They passed a circle of women sitting in the shade of a large tree. Deva sat in the middle, cradling her baby. Sorcha watched as she kissed the infant then laid it down on the ground, stood and walked out of the circle. Immediately she left, the others closed the circle, took the baby in their arms and dabbed an indigo dot on its forehead. “What’s happening there?”
“All neonates are born pale indigo and remain so for the first month. Then they become the color they’re destined to be. The Seer’s Wives can only keep their babies for this crucial first month. Then, once the infant’s color becomes apparent, they must surrender their baby to the other mothers in the settlement, or surrender their position as one of his Wives.”
“Why?”
“The Seer’s Wives must be totally dedicated to him. Nothing can be allowed to distract them.”
Sorcha watched Deva walk away. She didn’t look back at her child. Her face was devoid of any expression. “It’s very cruel. She must be devastated.”
Zara frowned. “Why? Deva’s proud that her baby’s a true indigo and, although the others will look after the child, she’ll see it whenever she wants to. We’re all family here.”
“Was my mother one of the Seer’s Wives?”
“Yes.”
“Was I given away?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“You weren’t born an indigo.”
Sorcha frowned. “You said all children were born indigo.”
“Unless they’re beyond indigo.” She pointed to the dot on Sorcha’s forehead. “You were born a violet. Very rare.”
Passing the corral, Sorcha was drawn to the horses. A beautiful chestnut stallion came over and nuzzled her hand. Sorcha felt an immediate bond. “Can I ride?”
Zara laughed. “Of course you can. You’re an excellent rider. You love horses. You love everything about this place. I still can’t understand why you left. The Seer has such plans for you.” Her incredulous tone made it clear to Sorcha that the girl thought that by leaving she had been both ungrateful and unfathomably stupid. Zara strode on and beckoned her to follow. “Come, let me show you the Great Hall where everyone gathers for meditation and family meetings.”
Sorcha followed her to a vast barn in the center of the settlement. Painted on each of the large double doors were the same twin figures depicted on the tapestry in her father’s quarters, complete with the seven colored chakras running up their spines. The hall was abuzz with people preparing chairs and tables, and arranging flowers. She noticed children helping. Unlike the children in the school, who were all indigo, they were a selection of what her father had called ‘the lower colors’.
“Why aren’t they in school like the others?”
Zara frowned at the question, like the answer was obvious. “They’re more useful here.” Then she smiled, as if remembering that Sorcha no longer knew the most simple and obvious things. :Don’t feel sorry for sub-indigos. We treat them well, much better than their kind treat us outside the settlement. Out there sub-indigos are in the majority and because they fear us they try to destroy us.”
“Why do you say that?”
Zara sighed as if talking to a slow child. “Everyone knows it. The Seer told us. Why else would he create this retreat? So our kind can develop our gifts safely and get ready to take our place in the world.”
As Sorcha processed this she watched the activity around her. “What’s everyone doing?”
“Preparing for Esbat.” Zara sighed again. “I suppose you don’t remember that either? Esbat’s the monthly gathering that occurs every full moon when the veil between the sensory and the spiritual world is thinnest. First we fast, then we meditate, focusing our life energy on reaching beyond our physical senses to experience the spiritual. Finally, we feast and celebrate until our physical hunger is sated. Each Esbat the Seer selects two members to wear the white robe and assist his Great Work. It’s always been a sacred time but this Esbat will be even more special than usual.”
“Why?”
“Because you have returned.” In Zara’s eyes and tone Sorcha detected jealousy. “The Seer values you above all of us. He says that with you by his side he can now move closer to completing the Great Work.”
“The Great Work?”
“The Seer’s lifelong quest to reach beyond the physical world and discover the path to the spiritual realm. He’s already helped many to travel the astral plane and soon—” Zara stopped abruptly and looked down as if she’d already said too much. “Only the Seer can tell you about the Great Work. All will become clear on Esbat.” As Zara led her around the hall, everyone stopped what they were doing and turned to her. “Do you like it?” Zara asked, pointing to a ten-foot-tall floral display above the raised dais as the far end of the hall: two pillars of violet flowers met in an arch of white and yellow blooms.
“It’s beautiful,” said Sorcha. “Does it represent something?”
Before Zara could reply, the woman with the plaited graying hair and hoop earrings Sorcha had noticed at the welcoming feast the previous night stepped forward and embraced her. “Sorcha, I’m so glad to see you again.” She smelled of lavender and had an indigo spot on her forehead but didn’t wear one of the indigo tunics or robes that appeared to indicate a position of power and trust.
“Remember what the Seer told us, Eve,” Zara said curtly, trying to pull her away. “She’s lost her memory. She doesn’t know who you are.”
Ignoring Zara, the woman embraced Sorcha tighter and looked deep into her eyes. “My name’s Eve. I knew your mother from the old days, when the Indigo Family lived in California. We were friends.” She pressed her face so close that the steel of her hoop earrings felt cold against Sorcha’s cheek. Then, so quickly and quietly that Sorcha wasn’t even sure she had heard her, the woman whispered urgently in her ear: “Be careful. Trust no one.” Then the woman stepped back as if nothing had happened. “Welcome back.”
Before Sorcha could respond, Zara was pulling her away from the woman. “Come,” she said. “Let’s get some air.” As she led her out Zara turned to her. “You should steer clear of Eve. She likes to stir up trouble.”
Sorcha turned back to the woman. “Who is she?”
“Eve’s one of the original members of the Indigo Family. The old ones think they’re special because they were members before the Seer came,” Zara said. “They mutter how everything was better in the old days. But it wasn’t. They’re confused and forget their place.”
Eve didn’t look or sound confused, thought Sorcha, wondering what to make of the woman’s whispered warning. Why should she be careful? Who should she not trust? As she left the barn she saw men erecting an avenue of torches on each side of the path leading to the looming tower. She headed toward it.
“Where are you going?” Zara demanded.
Sorcha pointed upwards. “The tower’s one of the few things I can remember. Where’s the entrance?”
“There are two. One’s at the end of this path, the other’s in the enclosed walkway connecting the tower with the Seer’s quarters. Both are locked. You can only enter the Observatory by permission of the Seer and only a select few are summoned.” From the pride in Zara’s voice she had clearly been one of the few. Sorcha suspected that she too had been inside, at least once in the past.
“The Observatory?”
“It’s where the Seer labors on the Great Work.”
“How? What’s inside?”
Zara unconsciously stroked her belly and a secret smile creased her lips. “No one’s allowed to speak of what they experience in there.”
It was becoming evident to Sorcha that it wasn’t only her memories that were being withheld from her. She needed some time on her own to think through what to do — and to consider Eve’s warning. At that moment a bell rang. With Pavlovian immediacy everyone stopped what they were doing and moved toward a large barn behind the Great Hall. “Lunchtime,” said Zara. “Come, let’s go to the refectory.”
�
�It’s OK. I’m not hungry.”
Zara frowned. “But it’s the lunch bell. You have to have lunch when the bell rings.”
“You go, Zara. Thanks for all your help, but I think I’ll wander around by myself for a while.” Without waiting for a response, she veered off the path toward the looming trees covering the rise at the back of the settlement. She came to a large wooden shed, slightly removed from the rest of the buildings, and detected a cloying, oddly familiar smell. There was sawdust and blood on the stone path leading to the door and through one of the windows she glimpsed carcasses hanging on hooks. It was evidently a slaughterhouse and the buzzing of flies caused splashes of yellow and red to shimmer before her eyes. She put a hand over her mouth and walked quickly on until she passed a sign forbidding entry into the forest. She considered ignoring it but saw Zara coming after her and headed back toward the bridge. It would feel good to get out of the settlement for a while. Spying Zara out of the corner of her eye she walked faster. Before Sorcha could step on the bridge, however, one of the indigo-clad men from the guardhouse blocked her path.
“I’m sorry, but the Seer wants you to stay within the settlement until after Esbat.”
“Why?”
“For your own safety.”
“My safety? I don’t understand.”
“Come,” said Zara, breathlessly, gripping her arm and leading her back. “The Seer is not to be questioned.”
“I’m going to damn well question him,” Sorcha said. She pulled her arm out of Zara’s grip and headed off in the direction of his quarters. “I’m going to ask him what the hell’s going on.”
“But he’s the Seer.”
“He’s also my father.”
“He’s father to all of us.”
She shuddered when she thought of what Zara and the other two women had been doing with Delaney earlier. “Please, Zara, go and have lunch and leave me alone for a while.”
“But I’m supposed to stay with you all day.”
“Do you want me to tell the Seer that you’ve been unhelpful?”
A mix of fear and anger flickered in Zara’s blank eyes and Sorcha felt a cruel satisfaction. She was beginning to think that maybe there was no mystery about why she’d left the settlement. Maybe she’d just got sick of the stifling rules and everyone’s unquestioning obedience to her father. Maybe that was why Eve, her mother’s friend, had warned her to trust no one. As she entered Delaney’s cabin, she glanced back and saw Zara still standing by the bridge. Inside, she could find no sign of her father. She considered waiting in her room but was too restless. Beyond the bedrooms she found a long corridor with a single door at the far end. She walked toward it and tried the handle. The door was locked with an electronic keypad and she assumed she was in the enclosed walkway connecting her father’s cabin to the Observatory.
Going out the main door of the cabin, she saw that her assumption was correct and headed for the stone tower. Up close, looking up the windowless white walls was like looking up a sheer cliff face. With its staring eye the structure resembled an oversized lighthouse or a storage silo but there was no crane, or access, except the two doors on the ground floor. The Observatory, as Zara had called it, looked eerily familiar to Sorcha and she wondered what its real function could be.
Walking around the base she discovered the second door, also locked with an electronic keypad. Embedded in its dark wood was another mosaic. Unlike the eye at the top of the tower this was small, circular and fashioned from rough fragments of plaster, amethyst, brick and concrete. Intrigued, she brushed her fingers over the embedded pieces. Instantly, she pulled her hand away, as if needle-sharp splinters had impaled her fingers. Since arriving at the settlement she had sensed nothing unusual but touching those fragments of embedded rubble felt like she had been exposed to the splintered shards of numerous death echoes. Even as she wondered what the mosaic pieces could be, the experience strengthened her conviction that the tower was key to unlocking her own memories. She pressed a hand to the tower’s stone walls but detected nothing. Then she registered a sound. Someone was walking toward the door, toward her.
Panicked, she retreated around the curved of the wall, away from the footsteps. Even though she had done nothing wrong she was nervous of being discovered snooping around the forbidden tower. As she listened to her heart thumping in her chest, watching colors dance before her eyes, she realized she’d only been back a day and was already intimidated by the place and its rules. Pressing herself against the wall, she heard someone push four buttons on the keypad. Each pushed button made a unique tone, which flashed a distinctive color before her eyes. She heard the door open and was curious who could be missing lunch and entering the secret observatory. Thinking it might be her father she peered around the wall, ready to confront him. But the door was already closing, hiding whoever had stepped inside.
As she stepped away from the tower a hand grabbed her shoulder and pulled her back. Panicked, she turned and saw Eve pressed against the wall, holding a finger to her lips. Sssh. If we’re seen talking together it could put us both in danger. Be careful, Sorcha. Nothing is what it seems.”
“I don’t understand,” Sorcha hissed, heart pumping in her chest. “What do you mean?”
“We can’t talk here. Not now. The Seer has ears and eyes everywhere. Be outside the Great Hall at midnight and I’ll tell you everything I know. I must go to lunch now before I’m missed. Wait five minutes before you follow me.”
Then she was gone.
Sorcha stood frozen for some moments, glancing nervously around the deserted settlement, paranoid that she was being watched. Her mouth felt dry and her hands were shaking. She had returned here because she thought it was safe, her home, but now everything about this idyllic place had taken on a new, sinister cast. Unnerved, she hurried back to her room, closed the door and collapsed on the bed. As she lay there she looked out at the looming tower, then at the picture of her mother, and wished Nathan Fox was here to guide her. Suddenly, she was no longer scared of whether her memory would return but of what she might remember when it did.
Chapter 39
Where the hell is it? Nathan Fox cursed in the gloom as he checked the coordinates on his hand-held Global Positioning System. Although they matched the coordinates Connor Delaney had emailed him earlier, there was no sign of Regan Delaney’s settlement. In the gathering dusk there was no sign of anything much — except trees. Connor had warned him that his brother’s domain was extensive and the coordinates for the settlement might not be precise but Fox had assumed they would get him closer than this.
Leaving Portland early this morning, armed with the coordinates, a satellite GPS and a map downloaded from Google Earth, Fox had reassured Samantha it would take him only a couple of days to find the cult, alert Sorcha about the killer, and then return — hopefully with her. Although he had briefed his aunt to tell Jordache to send out a search party if he wasn't back after the weekend, he had felt confident. Even after Jordache had warned him against gong and Professor Fullelove had admonished him for being unprofessional and taking unplanned leave. He didn’t feel confident now, though. His phone had stopped working hours ago and he was stuck in a forest of giant sequoias, in the middle of the night with only the cry of owls for company. He felt tired, lost and hungry. And every muscle in his thighs and buttocks ached.
His car had got him as far as the tiny town of Road’s End, where the road had literally ended. The townspeople had warned him to stay clear of the Indigo Family: ‘People go missing round those parts.’ Taking his car as security, they had loaned him a horse, a black gelding, complete with a saddlebag of basic supplies and a hunting rifle, which fitted snugly in the saddle holster. Fox soon discovered that his mount, unlike the calm horse he had ridden at Connor Delaney’s, was easily startled and as temperamental as a Ferrari.
Following the GPS on the roads was one thing but off-road was a different story. Regardless of the GPS instructions, he could only go where the terrain — an
d the horse — let him, which was rarely in a straight line. Gripping tightly, he had crossed rivers, traversed ravines and cut through forests to get here. But here wasn’t yet where he wanted to be. And it was getting dark.
The skittish horse seemed even more jumpy in the forest and Fox shared his unease. He unconsciously touched the butt of the hunting rifle, reassured by its presence. In the fading light there was something prehistoric about the monumental ferns and massive trees that made him feel an unwanted interloper. It also reminded Fox of the first time he had seen giant sequoias in Oregon, the day his parents and sister had been murdered. His greatest unease, however derived from being lost. The coordinates Connor Delaney had given him covered such a wide area, he began to fear that he would never find not only the settlement but also the way out of the damn forest.
“At least it isn’t raining,” he muttered as he reached a wide, circular clearing. Ahead, hidden among the ferns, was a small wooden hut, which encouraged him to think he was getting close. In this wilderness it could only belong to Delaney or his people. Perhaps it was a hunting base. Suddenly the horse reared up. As Fox calmed the spooked animal he looked down. The earth was softer and more churned up than elsewhere in the forest, and Fox assumed the horse had momentarily lost its footing.
Stiff and aching, he dismounted and tied the horse to a tree. He tried the hut door but it was locked. Looking up beyond the looming trees he saw the first stars appear in the evening sky. It would be dark soon so he decided to pitch camp for the night. He fed and watered the horse, heated some stew and beans on a small Primus stove, then rolled out his sleeping bag on the soft ground. As he maneuvered his aching body into the bag the forest was surprisingly noisy and he feared he wouldn’t sleep. He looked up at the moon. Almost full, it seemed to hang in the night sky like an overripe fruit.
He wondered what reception he’d get tomorrow — assuming he found Sorcha. He had no desire to visit Delaney and his cult tomorrow, let alone appear uninvited and without warning. He did, however, find the prospect of shaking up the self-absorbed Delaney and his people by telling them they had a killer in their midst perversely satisfying. Before he could ponder this more, his exhausted body overruled his racing mind and he fell fast asleep.
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