“She’s—”
He walked in.
“Govannan.” Rhea’s voice scolded him from a world of sense of propriety and good sense, a world he lost.
The familiar halo of her hair fanning around her head like a dandelion gone to seed reassured him; not everything had changed. He realized another woman stood in the room. She was younger, a clear beacon of light, pure and untouched by the evil he saw and carried with him. “Megan,” he exclaimed, and tried to smile to show how pleased he was to see her.
“Govannan.” Rhea’s hand touched his shoulder, steadying him. She read the riot of emotion inside him.
Megan stood there. Her blue eyes were a haven of peace, but confusion and a touch of fear were already replacing it.
“I’m sorry,” he started to say, but Rhea interrupted.
“She passed her lessons with flying colors and the Lady of Avalon has sent her home for a celebration.” Rhea turned to Megan. “It would seem the Master of the Crystal Matrix Chamber has some news of import for me.”
The words seemed to realign the shattered pieces of Govannan’s mind and heart. He nodded. “I apologize—”
“He’ll want to hear your news later, and celebrate your return.” Rhea walked Megan to the door of her office where her assistant stood, his mouth agape. Megan stared over her shoulder at Govannan, her brow furrowed.
“Go and settle into your room, dear. I will tend to him,” Rhea whispered, then closed the door on Megan and the assistant both. “What has happened?” She ushered Govannan to a chair. She reached into her desk drawer and brought out a small glass vial. She squeezed out three drops into a glass of water and handed it to him. He drank it without thought. It steadied him more. “Tell me immediately.”
Govannan obeyed her command like a child reporting to his mother. Oh, for that innocence again. The sordid tale poured from his mouth, the words corroding his tongue like acid.
When he was finished, Rhea sat staring at him, her nostrils flaring like an animal testing the wind for a predator. She poured a glass of water, an action so normal it made Govannan question her sanity, then reached for the small vial of medicine she dosed him with and let three drops of the tincture fall into the water. She drank and sat for a moment, soothing the silk of her robe with her hands. She pushed a button on the desk and the door flew open. Her anxious attendant stood there, his eyes darting from her face to Govannan’s.
“Please, call Evenor and Pleione.” Rhea’s voice wavered slightly. “Tell them to drop whatever they are doing and come here immediately. Cancel all my appointments for the day.”
“Yes, ma’am,” the assistant murmured.
They sat in silence for a minute longer. “I can’t imagine the shock, Govannan.”
“Those creatures…we must stop their suffering.”
“Of course,” Rhea murmured. “We’ll set this right.”
Govannan only shook his head. How could anything be set right when the unimaginable happened?
She asked him simple questions. “Where is this room?”
“In the new building near the Guild of Gaia.”
“What hallway?”
He tried to remember. “Section Thirteen, I think.”
“Did anyone see you?”
He shook his head. “Only on my way in.”
“You were dressed like this?”
He looked down and remembered he put on clothing suitable for gardening. He nodded.
“I doubt they would have recognized you, then.”
The door opened and Pleione rushed in carrying her healing bag. She came to him. “Is it your leg?”
Govannan frowned. “Leg?”
She touched his thigh where the wound had been, then pulled back her hand as if from a fire. “Govannan, what has happened?”
Evenor, the Governor of all the guilds, walked into the room. “What is it, Rhea?” Behind him came the Sirian ambassador who stood in the doorway, his elongated head almost touching the lintel. Rhea saw him and took a step back.
“He insisted on coming,” Evenor explained.
“If you’ll pardon us, Ambassador, I’m afraid we have some internal business to attend to.”
“I can be of assistance,” he said.
Rhea studied him for a minute, then nodded. “Please, have a seat.” Once they were all settled, she looked at Govannan. “Should I tell them?”
He shook his head. How could such words come from her mouth? He sat up and told them the story, at first in a flat monotone. Eventually the revulsion returned, and anger. “We must stop this atrocity at once.”
Evenor stood and strode to Rhea’s desk. He sent a message through the com system then returned. “I’ve called for the head of our security forces.”
“Thank God.” Govannan leaned his head back against the cushions.
“You do not seem as surprised as we are,” Rhea said to the Governor.
Evenor shook his head, his eyes full of storm clouds and his brow promising thunder. He looked at the Sirian ambassador, who sat as a pillar of light and calm. He nodded, giving Evenor permission to continue. “I have just come from a briefing with the Sirians. They were warning me about a decline in consciousness.” He looked at Pleione. “They claim the illnesses are a part of this, that this loss of connection is…” He closed his eyes for a moment.
“What?” Pleione looked at the Sirian ambassador and back at Evenor.
“They say it’s a normal part of the cycle,” Evenor said.
The Sirian ambassador nodded.
“Normal?” Rhea exclaimed. “How could it be normal to lose one’s connection to the great source?” She appealed to Pleione and Govannan.
Before either could answer, a knock on the door had them all look up expectantly. Xandaros, the leader of the warriors, walked in. “You called, sir?”
“Thank you for coming so quickly,” Evenor said.
“It is my duty, sir.” With a quick look around the room, the soldier took in the distraught guild leaders and the calm ambassador.
“Govannan has discovered a crime which must be set right immediately.” In cold, colorless terms, Evenor explained the situation. The man concealed his reaction except for a growing tension in the hand that gripped his staff. When Evenor finished, Govannan described where the room was.
“I’ll take a platoon over immediately.”
“Stop the experiments,” Evenor ordered. “Put the place under quarantine. Allow no one to come or go.”
“Take healers with you. Tell them what to expect,” Pleione said. “They may be able to save a few, and they can bring peace in the end.” A silver tear ran down her cheek.
“I’m afraid we’ll need a few troops for the city,” Evenor said. “Who knows what will happen if word gets out.”
Pleione walked over to the computer and sent a message, then she looked up at Xandaros. “My people will be expecting you.”
With a clipped nod, the man marched out, Evenor on his heels.
Pleione came over to Govannan and held out a hand to him. “Come with me. I’ll take you to someone who will soothe your heart.”
“No, I have work to do.” He glanced at Rhea.
“You had a bad shock. We’ll need you at your best.”
“If I may?” The Sirian ambassador stood up, towering over them.
Pleione frowned at him. “I assure you we can take care of him.”
“Of course you can.” He smiled at her. “I am merely offering assistance. We would like to help our friends here in such a time.” Pleione stepped back and the ambassador knelt down in front of Govannan.
The sight of this beatific being kneeling before him made Govannan try to scramble to his feet, but the ambassador put out a hand to stop him. “Please, allow me this honor.” He
moved his hand to Govannan’s heart and placed the other on top of his head. He tilted back his elongated head, closed his eyes, and let out a sound that would have stopped the planets from rotating around the sun and turn to him as their source of life. That sound held the knowledge of loss and corruption but brought the comforting notion that the One encompassed even this and all would be reconciled. Govannan was flooded with peace and even a sort of acceptance of what he saw.
The ambassador opened his eyes and smiled at him. “Good.” He stood and addressed himself to Rhea. “I would ask your permission to take the Crystal Matrix Master to our home world so we might explain what is to come and fortify him. We would also ask for his beloved to accompany him.”
“Megan?” Pleione’s eyes widened.
“Your beautiful and talented daughter,” the ambassador confirmed. “She has a part to play.”
The three Guild Masters looked at each other. They all realized the healing sound of the ambassador restored them to a state of clarity they hadn’t felt in quite some time. “Even we have slipped into this…” Rhea groped for a word.
“Dullness?” Pleione offered. “We’ve accepted the growing army without remembering that conflict on this scale used to be…”
“Unheard of?” Govannan finished for her.
“Yes,” Rhea turned to the Sirian. “Ambassador, what can we do?”
“Allow me to take these two with me. We shall return them with knowledge and sound codes to aid in the turn of the cycle. Think of it as…what do you call it…a honeymoon.” He smiled rakishly at Govannan, a change of demeanor so swift it made them all burst out laughing.
“If Megan agrees,” Rhea said, pausing to get a nod from Pleione, “then we accept.”
The ambassador nodded, clearly satisfied.
“Thank you for your assistance, Honorable Elder.” Rhea used the old term for the Star Elders.
The ambassador inclined his head. “It is our pleasure to help our relations.”
* * * *
After completing the first six months of her training, Megan was sent home from Avalon to visit her family and friends. Her homework, for the Lady could not resist setting her a task even on vacation, was to test her new attunement skills with the other Crystal Matrix workers. Neither of them dreamed that she would be making a jump through the towering crystal, and with such illustrious company. That the Sirians wanted to meet with Govannan she could understand, but why did they invite her, a neophyte compared with all the others in her group?
When the Guild Mistress called her to a meeting and repeated the ambassador’s invitation, Megan was too shy to ask her for more information. The Lady of Avalon never answered her questions. She expected Megan to figure it all out on her own. Her mother came in at the end of the meeting with word from her father; the Prince wished her to know that he would be honored if she would undertake this journey for Earth.
So formal, Megan thought.
Afterwards, her mother suggested they eat dinner at the Crystal Guild complex. “We can catch up a bit.”
“I thought we’d go home,” Megan protested. “I want to see everyone.”
“It’s best to keep things simple tonight. You can see the rest of the family when you return,” Pleione said.
Megan chose one of the restaurants in the main Guild Hall rather than the more intimate setting of the Crystal Matrix living quarters—that place was intimate for everyone but her. She barely knew the people she was going to be working with. She was looking forward to spending a few days getting to know them and their routine, but here she was set to go off on yet another journey. At least this time she’d be traveling with Govannan. She tried to hide her thoughts from her mother, but it hardly seemed necessary.
After they picked a table, Megan answered her mother’s questions about Avalon and who still lived there, and described her training. Pleione listened distractedly. Once the food came, Megan changed the subject. “Why me? I’m just a beginner.”
Her mother blinked, then realized what Megan was talking about. “They’ve invited Govannan.”
“That doesn’t answer my question.” Megan looked up from her plate to find Pleione smiling. “What?”
“Aren’t you his complement in the circle? His polarity?” She raised an eyebrow, trying to look innocent but failing.
Megan blushed furiously, remembering the first transport she witnessed, how she felt the pull of Govannan’s baritone voice and practically swooned at his feet. Now that she had experienced group rituals so many times, she realized her feelings must be painfully obvious to everyone involved.
Her mother’s hand patted hers. “Never be embarrassed by such feelings, dear one. They are a gift.”
She looked up. “Does everybody know?”
“I’m your mother.”
Which doesn’t really answer the question, Megan thought. Aloud, she asked, “What happened today? Is Govannan all right?”
Pleione tucked a strand of her hair behind an ear before answering. “We had some disturbing news. Apparently we’re in for a…shift, you could say. The Sirians want to help prepare us for it.”
“How?”
“By giving you two some instruction and new sound codes. It’s an honor.” She smiled, but Megan still felt uneasy.
“I’m needed because I will eventually complement Govannan in the circle?”
Pleione nodded and pushed her plate away.
“When will I have the chance to talk with him? We’ll be constantly surrounded.” Even Megan realized she sounded like a child. She gave herself a little shake.
Pleione gave her an appraising look. “You’ve grown.”
“Only a little. All my clothes still fit.”
“No.” Pleione laughed. “You can handle your energy much better. You’re coming into your own.”
Megan squared her shoulders. Her mother wouldn’t say this if it weren’t true.
“Well,” Pleione stood up. “I have a good deal of work to do before I can sleep tonight.”
Megan grabbed her hand. “Come to the transport.”
“I would only distract you.”
“Please.” She allowed herself to be a child for one more minute.
Pleione ruffled her hair. “Oh, all right.”
After her mother left, Megan decided to walk off her restlessness. She discovered the alcove she found on her first day at the Crystal Matrix Chamber house and sat, looking up at the stars. A fountain splashed in the dark, keeping her company. The birds that bathed there that first day now slept in the thick branches of the wisteria or farther away in the orchard. Even though her fellow Atlanteans went about huddled in their woolen cloaks, Megan was enjoying the warmth. The scuff of a sandal in the dark made her draw deeper into the shadow. A man walked up to the fountain. He leaned down to the water, and the seashells braided into his hair clinked together.
Megan’s breath caught. She sat as quiet as the birds in their nests, taking in his broad back, his muscled arms, his long fingers as he filled his palm with water and let it drip into the pool again.
Govannan tensed. “Is someone there?”
Megan sat forward. “It’s me.”
He turned. “Megan?”
“I’m sorry. I should have told you I was here.”
“No, I’m glad to run into you. I hoped to speak with you before we left.”
“My mother tells me I’m traveling with you because I’ll sing opposite you in the Matrix Circle one day. She says the Sirians want to teach you something for the new times. I’m sorry I’m just a beginner.” She forced herself to stop talking.
He took a step toward her. “Is that what you think?”
“Isn’t it true?” She blushed, then stood and shook out her skirt. “I’m sorry to bother you, sir. I’m sure you need to gather your
thoughts before we leave tomorrow.” She turned to go.
“Please, stay.” His whisper was husky. His voice reverberated through her body, pulling her back to him. She stopped and turned back, but didn’t dare look up at him.
Govannan walked toward her and sat on the bench, then patted the seat next to him. His vitality radiated across the space and warmed her flesh. Megan perched on the opposite edge of the bench, far away from him.
“It’s just that…well…” Govannan paused for a long moment, time enough for her to catch her breath. He chuckled, but it was a sad laugh, ironic. “Let’s just say I had quite a day.”
Megan stirred. “Then you need your sleep.”
“No, I need—” He stopped himself from saying something. “I’d appreciate it if you’d stay and talk with me. Your company is soothing.”
“Oh,” she said. His company, on the other hand, disturbed her in deep and delightful ways.
He sighed. “How much did Rhea tell you?”
Megan schooled her voice to neutrality. The Lady would be proud. “Just what I said, that we’d be leaving tomorrow for Sirius to receive special training. Is there something more?”
He shook his head and the seashells shifted against each other, making their intimate music. “It would seem Atlantis is falling out of full consciousness and we are in for a time of—” He didn’t finish and sat silent, studying his hands. Lines were etched at the corners of his eyes.
“My mother said it was a shift.” Megan wanted him to talk so she could sit there in the dark and feel the sensations his voice arose in her.
He sighed. “Yes.”
Disturbed by his sadness, Megan said what she thought her father would say. “The Sirians are one of our father civilizations. Surely they’ll teach us what we need to know to restore people to health.”
Govannan didn’t answer immediately. “I’ve always liked this garden,” he finally said.
“Me, too. I found it the first day I was here.”
“Really?” He chuckled. “We are a matched set, you and I.”
Startled, she asked, “Why do you say that?”
He hesitated and she cursed herself for blurting things out without thinking.
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