Tory could have stood and stared at the statue all day, but DK reminded her of the quest at hand.
‘Come.’ The master headed towards the ethereal staircase. ‘Rest your bones and let your mind do your bidding for a time.’
Upstairs and down a corridor, which featured ornate, fanned ceiling buttresses awash with undulating pastel colours, DK guided Tory to a chamber that was more dimly lit than the corridor or the foyer. The walls, ceiling and floor in the room were a mottled indigo and violet which exuded its own light. However, due to the dark colour scheme, it appeared to be night and it took Tory’s eyes a few moments to adjust.
The only furnishings she could readily discern were two crystal beds situated in the centre of the round chamber. These were much like the healing cubicles of ancient Atlantis, only the composition of these beds was an etheric crystalline substance.
‘Who is the other bed for?’ Tory turned to ask DK and spotted the Count and Maelgwn entering the chamber behind them. This was the first time Tory had ever perceived her husband’s aura and it glistened with light and vibrant rushes of colour. ‘You look amazing.’ Tory voiced her awe.
‘You took the words right out of my mouth.’ Maelgwn smiled and embraced her fondly for a time. ‘You’ll never guess who the Count was once.’ Maelgwn left one arm about his wife and motioned to the master in question.
‘You’ll never guess who DK was,’ Tory exclaimed, just as excited.
‘Taliesin,’ they both replied at once.
‘How did you know?’ Tory was surprised that Maelgwn had blown her punchline.
‘Your father told me.’ Maelgwn motioned to the Count again.
Tory looked at the Count, rather amazed by the news. ‘Dad?’
‘Oh, yes,’ said the Count, winningly. ‘In that reincarnation his soul-mind was primarily under my influence. The primary preoccupations of my Ray at that time were incantation, magic and ritual, and Myrddin was one of the greatest ritualists ever known. But enough of the past,’ he decreed, as they were getting sidetracked. ‘Let us get cracking on the future.’ He gestured Tory and Maelgwn towards the etheric cubicles.
‘Your bodies will remain here, but you can return to them at any time should you feel the need to consult one another, or should you find you need a break from subjective world experience,’ the Count explained, as Tory and Maelgwn took a seat on separate beds.
The etheric crystal did not feel entirely solid beneath them. It felt very buoyant, like the water in a float tank but more solid in mass and dry.
‘Should you need to consult with us, your advisors,’ the Count continued, motioning to DK and himself, ‘it is not necessary to return here and fetch your physical forms as we can see your etheric forms just as readily. As always, you can find us with a thought.’
Tory looked across to Maelgwn seated opposite her and he raised both brows to query: ‘How about a kiss for good luck?’
‘Luck is not a factor,’ she grinned as she leaned across the void between the beds to meet his lips halfway.
‘That is one physical world pleasure I will miss,’ Maelgwn admitted as they parted.
‘It is one all feel they shall miss,’ DK advised, ‘for any physical union between soul-mates is like sampling the divine nirvana of being a whole soul. However, there is no wantonness, desire or personal satisfaction attached to the ultimate union.’
‘You certainly know how to motivate people,’ Maelgwn warranted, sporting a huge smile as sat back onto his healing platform, and Tory did likewise.
‘You are both now aware of your subjects and to join your charge you need only to wish it,’ the Count explained as Tory and Maelgwn lay down, their eyes never leaving each other. ‘The Logos will guide you forth to the appropriate time for contact, just as it was upon your initial contact. This time, however, your subtle bodies will accompany your consciousness, so that you have definition for the other guides influencing your subject.’
‘My subject has other guides?’ Tory was concerned by the news.
‘Oh, yes indeed,’ DK emphasised. ‘Governing many different aspects of her life, health, marriage, career, friendships, not to mention the low-grade elemental beings that latch on.’
‘Low-grade elementals?’ Tory repeated the part that was of particular interest to her, although the Count saved DK a lengthy explanation.
‘There will be an Oversoul, who will fill you in on all of this,’ the Count advised as he and DK distanced themselves from their charges.
Maelgwn held a hand out to his wife and as she returned the gesture, the crystal cubicles on which they lay slid together to form one and the couple joined hands.
‘Have you ever known two initiates to be as homesick for oneness as these two?’ the Count commented to DK as they exited the chamber and sealed the door, leaving the room in complete silence.
‘What an amazing day I’ve been having,’ Maelgwn announced lightheartedly.
‘You’ve made contact with our boys, haven’t you?’ Tory thought to inquire after their wellbeing. ‘Are they in trouble?’
He squeezed her hand to reassure her. ‘Nothing I can’t muse them through. You just concentrate on your own subject, and let me know if you need my advice on anything.’
‘I’m beside you all the way, if you should need me.’
‘I will always need you.’ With one more squeeze of her hand, Maelgwn let it go and rolled on his back to close his eyes and concentrate.
She knew he meant that he needed her in a spiritual sense, thanks to the duality of the male-female principle of their soul-mind. ‘I wonder who we really are?’ She knew Maelgwn was trying to concentrate but she couldn’t resist musing the notion aloud. ‘What master soul-mind will awake in the causal world once we are one again?’
Maelgwn smiled, having wondered the same thing himself. ‘There is only one way we shall ever know.’
‘I’m going,’ Tory took the hint, and closing her eyes, she pictured her subject.
Tory found herself in a small but comfortable first floor apartment that appeared to be of the same period in the late twentieth century that Tory had originally left — it felt decidedly strange to be back to where she’d started.
Her subject was seated on the lounge watching television. In the physical world the writer would have believed herself alone in the room, but from where Tory stood there were quite a few entities floating about the woman she was to muse.
There was an old woman knitting, wearing nineteenth century clothing, who sat next to the writer on the modular lounge. A cat spirit was curled up on the subject’s lap. A rather dubious looking entity of a dark, vaporous elemental nature, was hovering around the subject, changing forms as it babbled away to itself. ‘Go on, have another cigarette, you know you want one. Or how about a drink? You haven’t had a drink in ages!’
A kindly looking monk, who was sitting on the lounge on the far side of the subject, was making his own appeal. ‘What you need is to have some dinner. You haven’t had anything decent to eat all day.’
Above the subject’s head a tiny ball of light was flitting about, but the most spectacular being in the room was a breathtakingly beautiful female spirit, with long flowing hair that was so white it sparkled silver. Her vaporous form was attired in long flowing robes of mauve and violet. She was lying high above the subject’s head overseeing all that took place below.
It was this entity, which Tory assumed to be the Oversoul, who spotted the new arrival first.
‘Ah, you must be the new muse … thank heavens.’ The beautiful being floated over and stood in front of Tory to greet her. ‘The Master DK has been promising to deliver you to us for ages.’ All the spirits present, bar the dubious elemental, looked Tory’s way — the ball of light, floating above the subject’s head, ceased all motion.
‘So, you’re the one who threw the big fairy light show.’ The cat spirit jumped off the writer’s lap and strolled over to join the conversation. ‘What an inspiration that was! It intimida
ted the last muse so much that he went and found himself another subject to make feature films with. I’ve been tossing around an idea for a story myself, but the judge here,’ he ticked his head towards the Oversoul, ‘has ruled that it’s not my department.’
Tory was a little taken aback to hear the unusual looking cat speak. She thought him unusual because of his ears, which folded forward, and his tail was shorter than most cats. ‘What is your department?’
‘To make our subject and her husband maternal,’ the cat explained, ‘for the benefit of the kid.’ He nodded his head towards the tiny ball of light suspended in midair.
‘Is that what it is?’ Tory was delighted by the information.
‘Arthur, a little silence please,’ instructed the beauteous Oversoul. ‘His last human incarnation didn’t turn out very well,’ the Oversoul explained.
‘I was a stockbroker,’ the cat butted in again. ‘The stress killed me by the age of twenty-six.’
‘So Arthur has been granted leave to pursue a cat’s life for a while, in the company of a couple of human beings who will make him understand that life as a human is not always as stressful as his last incarnation was.’
‘I’m not to be just any old tomcat mind … I’m to be a pedigree Scottish Fold.’ Arthur strutted around looking impressed with himself.
‘You haven’t been born as a cat yet, I take it?’ Tory clarified.
‘No, no.’ The cat sat himself down. ‘My soon-to-be owners will be moving house within the year, to the upstairs unit of an old federation house I’ve picked out. So, I’m waiting until after the move before I inspire them to come and get me. It’s a good thing you’ve turned up now to muse my owner out of the rut she’s in, as she isn’t doing a whole lot to inspire me to go back to being a human so far.’
‘I’m Astarleia.’ The Oversoul recaptured Tory’s attention and smiled warmly. ‘I act as a kind of coordinator for all the guardians and advisors of this subject.’
‘I’m Tory Alexander.’ Tory returned the polite introduction before jumping back to a point of interest that the cat had raised. ‘Our subject is in a rut?’
‘I’m afraid so.’ Astarleia looked back at their despondent charge. ‘Since her last muse left, it’s been very hard to keep her motivated about life in general. She tends to thrive when her imagination does.’
‘It can’t have been very long since I made first contact.’ Tory strode over to take a seat on the coffee table, facing the subject.
‘Four years.’ Arthur jumped up on the table beside Tory.
‘She’s been uninspired for four years?!’ Tory was most concerned by the news.
‘I’ve been feeding her an outline of your story and dropping hints about what to research to prime her for your coming,’ Astarleia added. ‘But with working full-time in retail to earn a living, she’s too exhausted to be interested in researching early British history, Celtic mythology and earth light phenomena.’
‘Hello, dear, I’m Hazel,’ said the old woman looking up from her knitting.
‘Hazel is a good part of the reason that our subject has been happily married for nine years now,’ Astarleia boasted on the old woman’s behalf.
The old woman waved off the credit. ‘I was married for close on sixty years myself.’ She gave her credentials.
‘My marriage was a very happy one too.’ Tory thought she’d best not mention how long she’d been married for, which was somewhere in the vicinity of ninety years.
‘Oh, my marriage was hell,’ Hazel corrected. ‘My husband wasn’t anything like our subject’s fellow. He’s a real sweetie.’ Hazel went back to her knitting.
‘And this is Frances.’ Astarleia introduced Tory to the monk, who nodded his head in greeting. ‘He’s been taking care of our subject’s health.’
‘I’ve arranged for her to start yoga soon.’ Frances outlined the latest scheme he’d been working on.
‘That’s terrific,’ Tory encouraged. ‘So, her health is good.’
‘Not lately,’ Frances was sorry to say. ‘But I am confident that it will improve greatly now that you are here.’
Tory frowned and looked to the dark annoying entity darting around their subject, blabbering over the top of their conversation. ‘What is that thing?’ Tory asked, as it seemed to be completely ignoring them.
‘Nictar is a low-grade elemental who latched on to our subject when she took up smoking,’ Astarleia advised Tory regretfully.
‘And it just ignores you all?’ Tory commented regarding his behaviour.
‘It does not perceive us,’ the Oversoul advised, ‘as it is functioning on a lower etheric level than we are.’
‘So our influence is more powerful,’ Tory assumed.
‘That entirely depends on the state of mind of our subject,’ Astarleia concluded, whereupon all eyes turned back to their charge.
‘Come on,’ Nictar appealed. ‘It must be ten minutes since you last had a smoke. You can probably fit several in before you get so hungry that you’ll have to raise that lazy carcass off the lounge and fix yourself some food. With hubby away, why even bother? Just smoke away that hunger.’
The subject looked to the packet of cigarettes sitting on the coffee table in front of her.
‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ Tory focused all her will on the subject. ‘Now you listen to me, Traci Harding. You have to eat now, because after dinner we have some serious creating to do.’
‘Yeah, good luck,’ Arthur scoffed. ‘The X-files is on next, she won’t forego watching that.’
The subject placed a hand on her empty, rumbling belly and reluctantly decided to go feed herself.
Tory looked to the cat and grinned triumphantly.
‘I’ll believe in miracles when I see her start writing.’ The cat spirit followed the subject to the kitchen.
‘What are you doing?’ The smoke-filled entity protested at being ignored and rushed through Arthur in pursuit of the subject. ‘How about a smoke whilst you cook then?’
‘Watch it, buddy.’ The cat shook off the negative vibration that had moved through him and jumped up on the kitchen bench, out of the way.
‘So …’ Tory turned to Astarleia, ‘where do we write?’
‘The office is up the hall,’ the Oversoul advised, floating ahead to lead the way.
In the office was a computer, printer, telephone and fax, along with a couple of bookcases. One was full of reference books, the other with fiction novels, photo albums and files. There was also a large metal filing cabinet.
‘What’s in there?’ Tory motioned sideways at it, as she began to peruse the reference books.
‘Top drawer — electrical leads. Second draw — David’s tour itineraries. Third draw —’
‘Tour itineraries?’ Tory queried with interest. ‘Who is David?’
‘Our subject’s husband. He’s a concert lighting director and has toured with just about every rock band known to man.’ Astarleia sounded in awe of his achievements. ‘He’s somewhat of a technical whiz. Modern technology just astounds me,’ she confessed. ‘Let alone understanding how it works. He’s destined for great things and is bound to be helpful to our cause.’
‘I’d say so.’ Tory smiled at the wonderstruck Oversoul and looked back to the books. ‘He’s going to design the jackets of our books.’
Astarleia was pleased by the news and surprised that Tory would be aware of such an event before she was. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Oh, an angel told me.’ Tory’s smile turned to a cheeky grin.
‘The other two drawers are filled with files of paperwork, information and redrafts of Traci’s film projects.’ Astarleia got back to Tory’s original query about the filing cabinet. ‘I think that’s why she avoids this room, as it reminds her of past failures.’
‘Well, we’ll not fail this time,’ Tory assured the Oversoul. ‘She’s got a mighty fine collection of reference books here, some truly cosmic reading.’ Tory looked to Astarleia, knowing this must be due to
her influence.
‘We do our best.’ The Oversoul accepted the intended compliment graciously.
‘Do any of these books make mention of Maelgwn of Gwynedd?’
‘A couple of the Arthurian books do, but they are very obscure references,’ Astarleia was sorry to say.
‘Not to worry,’ Tory stated confidently. ‘We have a whole chapter to write before we need to make reference to Maelgwn and his knights. She’s already got a book on earth light phenomena, and that ought to serve as inspiration enough for the first big scene.’
‘Do you really think you can get her writing tonight?’ Astarleia wanted to believe it, but after the last four years of inaction she feared Tory was being a little ambitious.
‘Yes, I do,’ Tory said surely, as she schemed away in her head. ‘And tomorrow she will be so inspired and eager to pursue the tale that she will go to the library and find the texts she needs to learn about Maelgwn.’
‘But she has to work tomorrow?’ Astarleia informed, not wanting to be a nuisance.
‘Then we’ll go to the library at lunchtime.’ Tory shrugged off the problem and Astarleia burst into a huge smile.
‘I’m so glad you’ve come, Tory,’ said the Oversoul sincerely. ‘I have a feeling you’re going to be a very good muse and I am extremely thankful for your aid.’
Tory dragged herself away from her plotting to assure her new associate, ‘It is I who am thankful to you, for giving me the means to work out my karmic debt to this dimension.’
The subject entered the office, crunching on a piece of grilled cheese on toast and began to peruse her non-fiction books.
‘She’s quite psychic this one,’ Tory commented aside to Astarleia, who nodded.
‘Thus the ease with which she perceives our suggestion. Still, she hasn’t been this receptive in a while.’ When their charge selected the earth light book from the shelf and sat down at the desk with it, Astarleia kissed Tory’s cheek.
Tory was trying not to appear too stunned herself. ‘Why not switch on the computer and bring up a blank file?’ She moved in closer to egg their subject on. ‘Just in case you want to take some notes.’ Tory winked at Astarleia as the writer reached for the ‘on’ switch.
The Cosmic Logos Page 20
