‘So what will happen afterwards?’ he asked her.
She glanced at him, changed gear to take a sharp bend. ‘Whatever you like. We’ll be able to do anything. Stay here, leave here. I’d rather like to travel.’
He nodded. ‘I could show you some wondrous things, places that no human has ever seen.’ He relaxed in his seat. ‘I could take you to the farthest mountains where ancient citadels lie empty to the air. You could touch the sacred paintings on the walls. You could drink from the pools of holy water that are colder than the void. I could take you to the barren deserts where cities lie beneath the sand. When the right ceremonies are performed, the portals of sealing will open and you can go down to walk the deserted streets. You could take the diadem of a princess from an open tomb and wear it for me.’
Tamara wanted to believe all this was possible. She herself was unsure of what would happen once the serpent was awake. It was possible that the earthly aspect of Shemyaza, the Shem of him, would be burned away. ‘Here we are,’ she said and brought the car to a jolting halt.
They had to climb over a gate and walk across several fields to the site. On a bare hillside, a stone Celtic cross reared from the land. It stood upon a raised dais of three steps. Conveniently, the rain that day had kept all sightseers from the spot. As they trudged towards the cross, Tamara explained that it symbolised the grave of Constantine, an ancient Cornish king.
‘What do you want me to do?’ Shem asked. He seemed to be in good spirits, as if this was all a game.
‘Touch the cross,’ she answered. They halted before it. ‘Tell me what you feel.’
Shem grinned at her quizzically, then mounted the dais and extended a pale hand towards the stone. When his flesh made contact, Tamara felt a surge of power burst out from the monument. She staggered backwards under its force and her hat fell over her eyes. Gasping, she pushed it back and saw that two figures stood beside the cross. One was clearly Shem, but the other shimmered before her eyes. It was a man, clad in a long tabard of white and gold, his hair confined by a metal circlet. Tamara uttered a cry of surprise and concern. Shemyaza had invoked the ghost of Constantine. She could sense the old king’s overwhelming desire to acquire freedom and power. His hunger made him dangerous. Shemyaza seemed unconcerned, standing with his arms folded, staring curiously at the vision.
‘Send him back!’ Tamara yelled.
Shem turned his head to look at her. ‘Why? Isn’t this what you wanted?’
Tamara shook her head frantically. ‘No!’ She could feel her strength being sucked from her body by the thirsty spirit. ‘Shem, do it now! Lay him to rest! He’ll kill us!’
Shem shrugged and placed his hand against the stone cross once more. The spirit uttered a despairing wail, before its substance disintegrated and was absorbed back into the stone like smoke.
Tamara exhaled a sigh of relief, and concentrated on calming her hysterical heart. ‘We must be careful, Shem. These ancient energies are desperate for release.’
He came to her side and enfolded her in his arms. ‘It’s nothing I can’t handle. Remember, I’m capable of waking the serpent. Ghosts don’t frighten me.’ He kissed her briefly on the lips. ‘We are partners. Share my power.’
Just the feel of his arms around her woke Tamara’s desire. She felt the familiar writhing demand in her womb. Tenderly, Shem lifted her in his arms and carried her to the dais. He sat her down upon the top step and opened her duffel coat. Then he lifted her thick fisherman’s jumper and took her breasts in his hands. He leaned forward to suck the nipples. Tamara opened his trousers and freed his straining prick. She raised her skirts, which were drenched with rain. Beneath them, she wore no underwear. Then she wrapped her arms backward around the cross, raising her legs to grip Shem’s body. He found his way into her instantly and they drenched the site with their own, special power.
The next night Tamara took Shemyaza down to the sea. Giggling like children, they invaded the holy cave of the Pelleth, knowing they courted danger and discovery. Shem sat upon the giant’s throne, and she impaled herself on his lap, half wishing that Meggie and the others would appear at the mouth of cave, to witness her white, full body riding the staff of their god. He would leave his seed upon the sacred seat.
Afterwards, they walked hand in hand along the beach. The tide was low and they were able to stroll from cove to cove. At midnight, they reached St Michael’s Mount, or Carreg Luz en Kuz as it was known in the ancient tongue. Here, Tamara wanted them to enter the water. They undressed in the chill air and left their clothes folded upon a rock. Then they joined hands and ran into the water like holidaymakers, or children. Shemyaza strode into the waves and began to swim. Tamara clung to his back, riding his powerful body. He dove beneath the surface and Tamara could see that the water was lit up with glowing globes of light that flashed around them. She saw that the spectral shapes of the oanes began to take on a more physical form. Their whale-song cries filled her head. Shem dove deeper, and it seemed neither he nor Tamara needed air to breathe, for there was no discomfort in their lungs. The weedy spires of Lyonesse appeared before them through the gloom and Shem sped towards them, his body undulating like a fish. The water was filled with light, as if they swam beneath a Mediterranean sky. The wide streets of Lyonesse were empty, but glittering with the jewels of fishes and bubbles of air. Shem swam to the great temple, the omphalos of the city. Here, they found Delmar waiting for them. He sat upon the altar, where the holy drapes had been replaced by ribbons of weed. Shem spoke to Tamara through her mind. ‘Take him, my lady.’
Tamara glanced at him in shock. ‘No! He is virgin. He must remain so. Until the night before his death.’
Shem smiled and a stream of shining bubbles escaped his lips. ‘That is their way, not ours. Prepare him for me. The gift is mine, but I pass it to you.’
Tamara swam to the altar. Delmar fixed her with his dark eyes. Here, beneath the sea, they were full of intelligence and understanding. He rose up from the altar to hang before her, a blade of shining flesh. His hair billowed around his head, strung with pearls and shells. Tamara floated down to lie upon the altar. She landed weightlessly like a single strand of weed meeting the ocean bed, and her limbs drifted lazily, like the tendrils of an anemone. ‘Come to me, Del,’ she thought.
The boy spread out his arms and kicked with his legs, until he hung over her, inches away from her body. His skin looked silvery green, and when he reached for her breasts with his hands, she could see the fingers were webbed. His prick, when he entered her, was freezing cold. ‘Who was your father, Del? Not Patrick Tremayne, that’s for sure!’ She closed her eyes, enjoying his slow, cautious movements inside her. A vision came to her of Ellen Tremayne walking down to the ocean on mid-summer night, to meet the cold, fishtailed lover who waited on the farthest rock for her. Delmar. Not meant for the world of light and air. Tamara wound her fingers in his floating hair. Then she heard him utter a seal cry in his mind. Opening her eyes, she saw Shemyaza over his shoulder. Soon the three of them were moving to a single, oceanic rhythm, Delmar caught between Shemyaza and Tamara as a symbol of both male and female. Pumping like a jellyfish, trailing fronds of limbs, they rose up through the water. Seals and oanes and fishes tumbled around them in a maelstrom of flashing hide and scales. Tamara felt slick skin brush against her outflung legs. She felt fishes nibbling her fingers. Their orgasm was one orgasm, melding them into a single creature.
Tamara felt the last of the air squeeze from her lungs. She was breathing water.
With a final push, they burst free of the surface, and Tamara gulped air. Delmar was still inside her. He gave her a final kiss, before pulling himself free of her body and diving back beneath the waves. Shemyaza took her in his arms. ‘Another site sanctified,’ he murmured.
They awoke on the beach before dawn, and Tamara wondered how much of what she’d experienced had been vision or dream. It was the middle of winter, yet her naked body did not feel cold. The light was breaking in the eastern sky, and
the chapel on the mount was a dark sentinel looking down upon them. This was the test. The seat of Michael’s power in this land, an old adversary of Shemyaza’s.
They dressed themselves in silence and walked hand in hand towards the chapel. A tense atmosphere of expectation hung between them. ‘Are you ready for this?’ Tamara asked.
Shem squeezed her fingers. ‘I am.’
They went into the shadows of the building, where the dawn light had not yet reached. Tamara hung back by the door as Shem approached the altar. When he laid his hand upon it, the chapel filled with light. Outside the dawn sky had been shorn of clouds, and clear winter blue shone through. The sun came in through the stained glass windows and coloured Shemyaza crimson and gold. Before him, in the air, the dawn light condensed into a glowing column. Tamara saw a shining figure form within it, haloed in fire, his armour made of gold. A sword hung from his slim hips. Michael, a manifestation of the sun god.
‘Traitor! You dare to enter my citadel of the sun?’ His voice was like a clash of falling bells.
‘I dare,’ Shemyaza answered. ‘Go back whence you came. This is my kingdom now.’
Tamara had shrunk back against the chapel door, terrified that this powerful entity would blast Shemyaza’s fragile body of flesh and blood. But Shemyaza reached up and gripped the body of Michael round the waist. With apparently little effort he pushed the shining figure down through the stone of the altar. Michael writhed and screamed, but was unable to escape. His exhortations escaped his writhing lips in wisps of smoke. Finally, Shemyaza put his hand flat against the top of Michael’s head and forced the last of him into the stone. A haze of sparkling motes was all that was left behind, which presently popped out of existence.
Shemyaza stood alone, limned in coloured light, gazing down upon the altar, his hands hanging slackly by his sides.
Tamara stood with her hands against her mouth. She could hardly believe what she’d seen. If Shemyaza could defeat Michael, he could defeat anything. She hurried towards him and took his arms in her hands.
‘Now Shem. Now we can begin!’
Chapter Twenty-Six
Lament for Shemyaza
Emma had been surprised at how readily Daniel accepted the suggestion that he meet with the local witches. Perhaps it was because he was so desperate about Shem. As a psychic, Daniel took it for granted that information unavailable to others was easily accessible to him, but he had lost all sense of Shemyaza, and could not contact him.
Daniel and Emma walked the few miles to Meggie’s cottage through fine, dreary rain in the late afternoon. ‘It makes sense that these women should know about Shem,’ Daniel said. ‘What the old woman said is right; Shem’s power and light is not just for the Grigori. It makes me feel better to know that humans are also working with this frequency.’ He smiled. ‘And what better people than a coven of genuine Cornish witches? They will be part of this land, Emma, and therefore part of the serpent. If anyone can reach and help Shem in this hour of uncertainty, I’m sure they can.’
‘But what about the Parzupheim?’ Emma asked. ‘Surely, they are more powerful?’ Having known Peverel Othman so intimately, she was unconvinced any human was poky enough either to help Shemyaza or augment his power.
Daniel made a scornful sound. ‘Those old farts? Huh! They aren’t anywhere near understanding what Shem is all about. They’re far too greedy and narrow-minded.’
‘I don’t think you could call a conclave of angels “old farts”,’ Emma said dryly. ‘However, let’s just see what this Meggie has to offer. Like you, I’m worried about Shem. He needs all the help he can get.’
When they reached Meggie’s cottage, and were sitting in the kitchen with Meggie and her taciturn sister, Emma was alarmed at how freely Daniel spilled his thoughts to them. There was an edge of hysteria to his low voice. He kept brushing back his hair with a jerky, frantic gesture.
Don’t lose it, Emma thought. She wanted to take Daniel in her arms, take him back to High Crag, but sensed he’d be far from compliant.
‘If Shem has gone to the serpent, I need to be with him,’ Daniel said. ‘But for some reason, I can’t reach him. It’s as if there’s a dark wall around him, hiding him from my sight.’
Meggie nodded slowly. ‘Hmm. It might be a good idea if you go into trance while sitting in the giant’s chair. It is the seat of our oracle, and was placed in our sacred cave by the giants thousands of years ago. It was here that our oracle learned of your existence. If you call to Shemyaza from the chair, the Pelleth can combine their strength with yours to enhance your sight...’
‘Yes!’ Daniel interrupted. ‘With your help, I know I can reach him.’ He laughed shakily. ‘I can’t believe how lucky I am to find you. Some greater power must be helping me at this time.’
‘It’s the power of the serpent,’ Meggie answered, and smiled gently. ‘Of that you can be sure.’
Privately, Emma considered how it was more a case of the Pelleth finding Daniel rather than the other way around, but she kept her thoughts silent, content to observe.
‘I know how you must guard your secrets,’ Daniel said. ‘I can’t thank you enough for allowing me into your circle.’
Meggie shook her head. ‘Believe me, it is we who should be thanking you. This is a crucial time, and we have lost our oracle. We are debilitated without one. You are the Shining One’s vizier. It is of great benefit to the Pelleth that you are prepared to work with us.’
Emma, smoking a cigarette, watched Meggie through slitted eyes. She felt that the woman was leaving quite a lot unsaid. The Pelleth were too eager to have Daniel in their ranks, and although Meggie and Betsy cleverly disguised their fervour, Emma could sense it behind their words, boiling away like a kettle on the old black range. The heavy, ancient atmosphere of the cottage, with its sense of magic stretching back into the past, was clearly lulling Daniel into a sense of security. He was fixed on the grandmotherly aspects of the Pelleth women, blind to their aura of power, which Emma suspected could sometimes be cruel and passionless. Still, as long as she remained close to Daniel’s side, she could make sure no harm came to him. Unlike the Parzupheim, in their arrogance and pride, the Pelleth had respect for Daniel’s position and ability. Emma had to agree, grudgingly, that they might be able to help him, and as they so readily admitted, they’d long been preparing the land for Shemyaza’s arrival.
That evening, the rest of the Pelleth Conclave arrived at Meggie’s house. Jessie and Agatha, took Daniel away to a room upstairs and there prepared him for the ritual to come. Emma was asked to bathe, then dress herself in a simple green robe. It was the garment of a rank and file Pelleth. The rest of the women waited for her in the kitchen. When she returned to them, Meggie told her, ‘None but the Conclave have ever experienced the secrets of the sacred cave. I ask you to respect this privilege, that we allow your presence there tonight.’
‘Don’t worry, I’m not going to say anything to anyone,’ Emma said.
Lissie was more friendly. She placed a hand on Emma’s arm. ‘You will make up the numbers,’ she said. ‘Since we lost Tamara we’ve been incomplete, although you’re really a bit young to take her place, even for a single night.’
Emma laughed. ‘What? Don’t you know what I am?’
There was a silence in the kitchen. ‘What do you mean?’ Lissie asked.
‘I’m a Grigori dependant, over a hundred and fifty years old,’ Emma answered, taking pleasure from the shock that sprang to the Pelleth’s faces. ‘That’s right. Believe it. The Grigori extended my life. If I’m lucky, I have many hundreds of years of life left to me.’
‘They can do that?’ Rachel cried.
Emma smiled slowly. She knew that within each mind around her, the tantalising thought bloomed and shone: they could have this gift for themselves. Some of them banished the idea quickly, thinking it an abomination, but their denial was firmly rooted in horror at the sudden rush of desire and longing that had spired within them. ‘I thought that was what you�
�d want of Shem,’ Emma said lightly.
‘We want no dark Grigori magic,’ Betsy Penhaligon boomed. ‘The Goddess gives us a life and it is her privilege to take it back when she desires. We will not cheat her.’
Emma shrugged. ‘Oh well. It’s your choice. But surely working with Shemyaza in any respect is “dark Grigori magic”. Where do you draw the line?’
‘Shemyaza is pure,’ Betsy said. ‘He is the Son of the Sun, born in an age before the Grigori fell to corruption.’
‘You clearly haven’t met him,’ Emma said, enjoying herself immensely. ‘And, believe me, he is Grigori through and through. He’s no pure-born angel.’
‘He could not choose the flesh his souls inhabits,’ Meggie said.
‘True,’ Emma agreed, ‘and it is very fine flesh.’ She sensed her attitude offended Meggie and Betsy, although the two younger women found her intriguing, and would have liked to hear more about Shemyaza from someone who actually knew him, but before any questions could be asked, Jessie and Agatha brought Daniel back into the room. Emma uttered a sound of surprise and admiration. He was dressed only in a very short skirt of black and white feathers, and his head was crowned in coral. Clearly, the girls had already been working on inducing a trance state in his mind, for his dark eyes were dreamy, the pupils wide. His whole body seemed to shine from within. Emma realised then how beautiful Daniel had become. In Little Moor, she’d seen him as a gawky boy, but now, his svelte body was that of a very attractive young man. His hair, which had grown quickly since they’d left Little Moor was scooped up and confined inside the crown. His neck was as long and swan-like as the neck of an Egyptian king, and his head was a perfect shape, the skull swelling backwards from the neck in a graceful curve. Emma shook her head, and her voice was full of wonder. ‘Daniel, you look like an angel.’
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