The Black Madonna (The Mystique Trilogy)

by Traci Harding

  ‘Sounds like something Mathu would say,’ Polaris commented to Albray, who nodded; it seemed they both liked this candidate for our missing team member more than Killian Labontè.

  Emmett gave up on the argument with me and walked straight past the bag I’d dropped without noticing it, back up to the site camp. The figure of Dr Rich emerged from the shadows to claim the bag, then transformed his appearance into that of his son to pursue me.

  ‘It appears Meridan’s hunch was correct,’ Denera commented as the telepathic control tube retracted. ‘Go and fetch Emmett Rich to safety, but remember, we are still not sure he is Mathu.’

  As she finished speaking, Levi entered the Hall of Records loaded with weaponry. ‘Heard about all the commotion,’ he said.

  ‘Now that one’s got my name on it,’ Castor commented, referring to a sub-machine-gun-sized liquid-light gun, like the smaller one Tamar carried.

  ‘I don’t think so.’ Polaris stepped forward to relieve Levi of the coveted weapon, but Levi steered clear of all the drooling men, my husband among them, and said, ‘This is for Meridan.’ He handed it to me, ignoring the protests of the menfolk. It was surprisingly light.

  ‘Not only will it take out our enemies ten times faster than the handgun, but it has a stream function.’ Levi turned the weapon on its side to show me the switch. ‘And that ought to dissolve that Orme coating on your porthole fairly efficiently.’

  ‘Oh my goddess, you are a genius!’ I said. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of being able to reverse the disaster, and I kissed Levi for being so brilliant.

  ‘There is nothing you can do that we cannot undo,’ Polaris said, reminding me of his earlier claim as he accepted a handgun from Levi. ‘Now all we have to do is arrive at Montségur at the precise time you opened the secret passage through to Meridan station…’

  ‘Twelve-fourteen in the afternoon on 29 March 2017.’ Denera relayed the numbers as recorded by the Hall of Records and the Signet Map.

  ‘…and take the station back,’ Polaris concluded. He holstered his new weapon on his belt alongside the many others he’d collected in his travels.

  ‘And save the prince,’ I added. ‘Both of them.’

  Albray and Polaris looked at me as if I was kidding.

  ‘Until we’re certain which of them our missing teammate is unconsciously residing within, we must protect both Emmett and Killian,’ I explained.

  They opened their mouths to argue the issue.

  ‘However,’ I cut in, ‘I must say it’s awfully nice to see you two agreeing on something for a change.’

  ‘Well, that alone ought to tell you something,’ Albray said, and Polaris backed him up with an ‘Indeed’.

  Castor lost patience with the three of us. ‘We are on a bit of a tight schedule, people, so if you wouldn’t mind?’ He motioned us towards the door.

  CHAPTER 10

  BLINDSIDED

  As the priority of the day was to ensure the safety of Emmett Rich, the Klieo, skippered by Levi for this mission, dropped our party off in the middle of the site camp.

  The site office proved deserted, so the next place we looked for Emmett was in the quarters he shared with his father, Dr Rich. Before we’d even entered we spied the thick red substance oozing from under the door. The smell of death made my blood run cold with apprehension of what lay beyond.

  ‘We’re too late,’ I feared.

  Albray pulled me aside and kicked the door wide open. The room’s walls, ceiling and furniture were splattered with blood and shredded human remains.

  ‘Dear goddess!’ Even Castor was straining his imagination to envisage what kind of killing technique had been used. ‘This is high-level carnage, even for the Dracon; it must be the Nefilim’s handiwork.’

  ‘Is it Emmett?’ Some warrior I was: I couldn’t bring myself to check.

  The men entered gingerly, wary that the killer might still be present and of how easily they could slip on the gooey remains coating the floor.

  My eyes glued to the ground at the doorway, I noted several faint bloody footprints heading away from the accommodation. ‘Tracks!’ I advised my company.

  Albray was happy to come outside to take a look. ‘It’s hard to tell, but I don’t think Emmett’s here,’ he said.

  ‘Then who was that?’ I motioned back to where I dared not look.

  ‘I’m afraid we’re down an anthropologist,’ Albray said gently.

  ‘Dr Rich!’ I was shocked, but it made sense: the being that had followed me into the caves with my bag earlier today had been wearing Dr Rich’s persona before it transformed into Emmett. ‘They killed an innocent, brilliant man to get to me,’ I realised and my heart sank.

  ‘Can we go back in time and prevent this?’ I called out to Polaris, who was still inside the room.

  ‘We’ve just about exhausted our windows of opportunity in these twenty-four hours,’ he replied. ‘We can’t run the risk of bumping into ourselves. That could cause a catastrophic quantum anomaly, the science of which is far too complicated to go into right now.’

  ‘Hey!’ A voice hailed us from the other side of the camp. André. ‘What’s going on?’ he yelled as he made his way towards us.

  ‘Oh crap!’ Albray said. We didn’t have time to explain this mess, nor our mysterious guests. Luckily, both Polaris and Castor were still inside the room and out of André’s line of vision.

  ‘Your modern English is getting better,’ I commented to Albray, hiding my huge weapon behind his back. ‘I’ll take care of this.’

  I was careful not to step on the footprint tracks as I met André halfway and steered him towards the canteen.

  ‘Why are you poking around in Dr Rich’s quarters?’ André demanded as we entered the empty eating area.

  ‘I was looking for Emmett actually. Have you seen him?’

  ‘I only just got back from town,’ he explained and then frowned. ‘Is something amiss?’

  I guessed he was wondering why I was seeking an office boy of no consequence. I vagued out a little as I considered what to do about André, and my third-eye vision kicked in, as it often did at such times, and I spied the fluid irregularity in the Frenchman’s aura. This was not André. How stupid of me not to have checked his light-body. How ridiculous that I’d left my weapon with my husband! One scream would bring my male company running, but by the time they got here, I would be dead.

  ‘Oh well, not to worry,’ I said and backed away towards the door. ‘I’m sure he’s around here somewhere. I’ll find him.’

  My companion knew that he’d been had and grinned at my feeble attempt to depart. ‘I don’t think so,’ he said, and transformed into a huge demon-like being, more human in appearance than the Dracon, but with leathery orange-hued skin, black almond-shaped eyes, pointed ears, and horns protruding from either side of his forehead.

  ‘You are Nefilim.’ I stated the obvious in the hope of getting some information out of him before he tried to kill me.

  ‘They call me the Smiter,’ he said, and a metal spike shot out of the metal band on his wrist. ‘I have an aptitude for war and plague.’ And he moved in on me.

  I sidestepped, my heart pumping twelve to the dozen. I am the greatest etheric architect in this universe, I told myself as the creature and I circled one another. Ether is the basis of all matter on every plane of existence, and thus I can manipulate it here as easily as I did on Aramatena.

  ‘I am a master of creation,’ I challenged him, instilling the fact into my own head in the process. ‘Let us see which force is greater.’

  The creature took a flying leap at me; my knee-jerk reaction was to will the cement floor to rise like a barricade between us. The Nefilim hit the obstacle with all the force one would imagine from an unexpected airborne collision with a cement wall, then fell to the floor, hard. The surface enfolded him and held him fast, as per my mental instruction, then hardened, leaving nothing but my adversary’s face exposed.

  ‘Good goddess,’ e
xclaimed Albray. He and my other male companions had arrived in the doorway in time to witness the end of the confrontation.

  I grinned, having rather amazed myself, and turned to my husband. ‘Honey, I’m home,’ I announced.

  ‘You certainly are!’ Polaris laughed, astonished. ‘And I still haven’t worked out what my superhuman talent is!’

  ‘Me either,’ Arcturus said with a frown.

  ‘But what about—’ Polaris cut himself short.

  ‘What about what?’ Arcturus prompted but Polaris waved it off as not important.

  ‘My Lady du Lac never ceases to amaze,’ Castor said.

  This was the first time in my living memory that anyone had referred to me as the Lady du Lac and I realised that the title didn’t refer to any single woman. Once a Grail princess stepped into her power, she was the Lady du Lac.

  Polaris squatted next to the demon and glared at it. ‘What have you done with Emmett Rich?’

  The creature grinned. ‘A bit precious, is he?’ And it gave a great heave.

  ‘Watch out!’ I cried, but too late to prevent the monster vomiting green bile into Polaris’s face. The fluid burned into his flesh like acid and he fell to the ground, gritting his teeth and kicking his feet in an attempt to control the pain whilst his heightened metabolism set about healing the wound.

  As I rushed to aid our fallen comrade, Albray took aim with my weapon and shot the demon full of cosmic light.

  I knelt beside Polaris. ‘What can I do?’ I asked, but he waved me back to our captive.

  As loving energy filled the creature, it began to purge the black residue of its Orme addiction. Before long, all trace of its demonic nature had vanished to be replaced by the glittering ethereal being he’d once been. I restored the floor to its former state, and all the paraphernalia the Nefilim warrior had been carrying was left sitting on its surface.

  ‘What have you done with Emmett Rich?’ Albray was in the spirit’s face before he had time to realise what had happened.

  I am free! He wasn’t interested in questions; he just wanted to celebrate his release from his worldly burdens.

  Albray spotted the wristband that housed the Orme spike lying on the ground and retrieved it to threaten the witness. ‘Answer the question or I’ll spray you with this stuff and send you right back to hell.’

  I am sure I haven’t done anything to him, the spirit replied, looking saddened by Albray’s aggressive stance. Who is Emmett Rich?

  ‘Great!’ My husband flung his arms in the air, knowing the being could no longer lie. Then he turned back to the spirit. ‘Which of your brethren are currently attempting to take Meridan station?’ He would know that much at least.

  Our lord sent Namtar and Erragal to take the station.

  ‘Erragal knows where the frequency fence’s control centre is,’ I advised. ‘He’s one of Tamar’s primary targets.’

  ‘Well, what are we waiting for?’

  We all turned to find Polaris on his feet, his face nearly restored. ‘Let’s go get them on side.’

  Before exiting the canteen, I looked at the discarded technology on the floor and spotted a small module. I retrieved it, guessing it to be the Nefilim’s new auric simulator. This ought to interest Levi, I thought, and tucked it into my pocket before following my teammates outside.

  We escorted our captive to the Klieo, which was hovering unseen high above Montségur. Levi flew her down and picked up the Anu stray for safekeeping until we got back.

  ‘This is going to be intense,’ Albray commented as we made our way towards the entrance to the caves, which was also where the bloody footprints led. ‘Be prepared.’ He tried not to sound like he was giving me a lecture as he handed my weapon back to me.

  ‘Erragal wasn’t made King of the Underworld and a major confidant of Ill’s without good reason,’ Castor warned. ‘And Namtar is better known as the fate cutter, as he too is a harbinger of disease and pestilence. He usually associates with Ishtar, so I’d say he’s probably the Nefilim who’s been posing as—’

  ‘Morell Labontè,’ Albray and I chorused.

  Which raised another concern.

  ‘So what if we do take him out?’ I said. ‘How are we going to explain all these dead bodies and mysterious disappearances?’

  ‘You don’t,’ Polaris said simply. ‘As it’s time for you to disappear along with everyone else.’

  I didn’t feel ready to face such a huge life change. ‘So that’s it? My career and my life here are over?’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Castor said. ‘You’re only just embarking on your true vocation now.’

  ‘But what about my publishing deal?’ I felt very disappointed about that. I’d been told by Lugh Lamhfada that it was my destiny to share the story of my bloodline with the general populace. ‘I still have book three to hand in.’

  ‘If the last manuscript shows up anonymously, do you think your publisher would hesitate to capitalise on that?’ asked Albray, who was used to operating outside the boundaries of time. ‘Especially considering that huge advance they paid you.’

  ‘True,’ I conceded, ‘but without proof it came from me, then—’

  ‘If it means so much to you, I’ll personally take you back in time and you can hand your publisher the last two manuscripts at once,’ Polaris offered.

  ‘Wow!’ My mind boggled, as this meant that in some future reality I’d already finished writing my trilogy. ‘I’d greatly appreciate that, Captain.’

  ‘Then consider it done.’

  Polaris took out his liquid-light gun as we descended the deep, dim stairway that led into the caves beneath Montségur. At the bottom, I took the lead and, each employing our third-eye vision, we proceeded in darkness. I followed the contours of the cave’s light-body, which were as plain to me as if I’d been wearing infra-red goggles.

  As we drew close to the tunnel entrance that led to the annexe containing the hidden gateway to Meridan station, I noticed some dark shadowy anomalies up ahead. When the shadows began to move towards us, my companions opened fire. As the liquid light spread through the shadows’ forms it was plain to see that they were Dracon. I needed no further prompting and opened fire myself, blazing a trail with my superior weapon to the annexe where the Nefilim who had posed as Albray earlier awaited us. Only now he was wearing his Nefilim persona and was no longer incapacitated as I had left him. He exhibited the same demon-like features as the Smiter, only he was far more sinister and much better dressed, in a stylish black suit, glittering gold cape and wide-brimmed hat.

  I didn’t stop to chat, I just opened fire.

  Namtar wrapped the cape around himself and bowed his head—his Orme-reinforced clothing formed a shield that my light-bullets bounced off. All four of us fired upon the target at once, but, unable to get a clear shot, we ceased wasting ammunition.

  Namtar chuckled at our attempts to take him down and raised his head slightly to view us. His focus came to rest on Albray. ‘Well, if it isn’t my wife’s toy boy. She just can’t wait to see you again.’

  Albray fired upon the beast, who resumed his protective stance and then vanished completely. ‘Shit!’

  ‘He’s not called a god of dis-ease for no reason,’ Polaris advised my husband. ‘Don’t let him bait you.’

  The captain gestured to me to open the gate. ‘We’ll get Namtar later,’ he said. ‘The priority is to get Erragal out of the Signet station.’

  I closed the gateway behind us and we followed the path through the crystal formations that led to Meridan station. When the station itself came into view, my company were completely in awe of the celestial structure, but there was no time to stand around and discuss the dynamics of my design.

  We were hurrying down the main hall to the control centre when a whistle brought us to a halt outside the historical reference room, located through an arched doorway to our left. There we found Erragal, still wearing Emmett’s form, comfortably sprawled on a lounge reading a book.

  ‘I
nteresting stuff, Meridan,’ he said, tilting the book to show us the cover. It was entitled The Black Madonna and I was shocked to see I was the author. ‘It’s the final book in your trilogy,’ he told me before shifting his gaze to Albray. ‘Haven’t you been a naughty boy,’ he grinned.

  Albray was riled by the comment, but before he, or any of us, could fire, a shadow moved past us, spraying all our torsos with a thick coating of gold. It hardened like stone, completely incapacitating our upper body and arms. The shadow was a jinn, a demon conjured through blood sacrifice from the lower etheric world. The Nefilim and the Dracon used these creatures for protection from higher ethereal forces and frequencies, as they acted like a low-grade etheric shield, too dense for higher frequencies to penetrate. They could also perform physical tasks for their masters—like coating us all with the dregs of Erragal’s spray paint.

  The jinn took a second pass at us, spraying the men’s feet to immobilise them completely.

  ‘Goddamn you!’ Albray cursed.

  ‘Yes, he has,’ Erragal said, getting up to remove our weapons. He was especially impressed with my gun. ‘Just what I need,’ he taunted me.

  ‘That is a creating weapon, what could you want with it?’ I spat back.

  Erragal didn’t know about my rediscovered talent of manipulating matter, so I wanted to pump him for information while he still felt he had the upper hand.

  ‘Before I became engrossed in your book, I was reading this.’ He motioned to an old scroll unfurled on one of the tables. ‘It’s the true story of King Arthur,’ he glanced to Castor, ‘as written by Magdalen.’ He turned back to me. ‘It tells me that Signet Station Eleven is where the Rod of Power has been hiding since the Dark Ages, and as you’ve now supplied me with this weapon, I can reactivate the porthole and use it to get to any damn Signet station I please.’

  Obviously he didn’t realise the station was being monitored from the Hall of Records. ‘Only I can use the porthole,’ I warned. I didn’t want a repeat of today’s emergency.

  ‘Not true,’ Erragal said, to my annoyance. ‘Only you can open the porthole, it’s true. But once you have…it’s free passage for all who manage to gain entry to your station.’