Stealing Sacred Fire

by Constantine, Storm

New Epoch

  Helen felt very calm, although she could tell her mother was unnerved by the masses. They had fought their way onto the Giza plateau and had found that once the crowd absorbed them, it was impossible to get out again. The difficulties with the sound system had added tension to an already explosive atmosphere. People seemed excited and full of expectation, but there was a sense that violence might break out at any moment. Egyptian soldiers looked nervous, huddling together in tight knots around their armoured cars, clutching their guns. There was little they could do to control the crowds: there were too many people.

  ‘The authorities shouldn’t have allowed this!’ Lily said. She lifted Helen in her arms, because no-one seemed to care about trampling over a defenceless child. ‘Look at them! Mindless, milling around. It’s a desecration.’ She shifted her daughter’s weight in her arms. ‘Thank heavens you’re a slight child!’ She paused. ‘Just why are we here, Helen?’

  Helen smiled at her mother. ‘We have to find the others.’

  ‘Daniel? Is Daniel here?’ Lily could not keep the sudden surge of hope from her voice.

  Helen did not answer. She looked up at the shining expanse of the Great Pyramid of Cheops. Its sheer white face looked like a gleaming road leading right up to the stars. Overhead, the constellation of Orion burned brightly in the sky. Helen listened to the haunting tones that whispered softly in her mind: one, two, three.

  Lily finally managed to shove her way to the lip of the enclosure and went down towards the great Sphinx. ‘How will we find anyone here?’ she complained. The child was beginning to weigh heavily in her arms.

  ‘There, Mum.’ Helen pointed towards the left paw of the monument.

  By this point, weariness and muscular pain had made Lily quite aggressive. She clasped Helen to her with one hand and roughly pushed people aside with the other. This was Bedlam. ‘I can’t see anyone we know, Hel. Are you sure?’

  ‘Yes Mum. There.’ Helen shook her hand in agitation. ‘Those people.’

  Lily saw two women pressed up against the paw of the Sphinx, although strangely enough, the milling crowd seemed to be giving them a wide berth. Lily walked up to them and gratefully lowered Helen to the ground.

  ‘Hi,’ she said. ‘Hope you don’t mind us invading your space. My arms were dropping off.’

  A rather sinister-looking young woman with dark, severely-cut hair sat with an aged crone lolling in her lap. The dark-haired woman did not speak, but glared up at Lily. The older woman looked as if she might be dead. Lily was morbidly intrigued, but didn’t like to stare, then noticed the ancient fingers twitching and slivers of white between the fluttering eyelids. ‘Is she all right? Can we do anything to help?’

  The younger woman shook her head belligerently; a gesture which warned, leave us alone.

  Helen went up to the old woman and put her small hands on the lined face.

  ‘Hel, don’t be rude,’ Lily began, but Helen ignored her and spoke to the dark-haired woman.

  ‘He’s sent us to you,’ she said earnestly. ‘We had to come.’

  The young woman tore her eyes away from Lily and looked at the child in surprise. Her mouth dropped open. She said, ‘Shemyaza?’

  Helen grinned. ‘Yes!’

  Lily noticed then that the young woman’s face was wet with tears; her eyes were reddened. The sight made her stomach turned to ice. She anticipated what came next.

  ‘He’s dead,’ the woman said.

  ‘No!’ Helen squealed. ‘Met-Met told me he was mine!’

  Before Lily could take in this information, a squealing, humming sound pealed out over the plateau. Lily winced involuntarily. ‘What the hell is that?’

  ‘It’s all right,’ Helen told her. ‘It’s the tones. Everyone can hear them now.’ She turned back to the young woman. ‘He can’t be dead. He isn’t!’

  Lily did not know what Helen meant about ‘tones’. She could not take in the fact that Shem might be dead. Who were these two women? What could they know?

  Around her, people were looking at one another in alarm. It was clear that, at first, everyone believed they’d heard a shriek of feed-back from the stage, for many of them pantomimed grimaces and stuck their fingers in their ears. Faces broke into smiles for it seemed the music was about to be reinstated. But it quickly became obvious that the unearthly noise was nothing to do with the P.A. It enveloped the entire plateau, becoming louder all the time; a high-pitched, insistent screech. Then, the ground began to shake.

  Lily stumbled against her daughter. ‘It’s a bomb! It must be. Oh my god!’

  People were becoming hysterical, perhaps sharing Lily’s belief in a terrorist attack. The humming was ear-splitting now. Some were affected more greatly than others, and fell to the ground, writhing, desperately trying to cover their ears.

  Helen, her face solemn, slowly lifted one hand and pointed towards the pyramids. She did not attempt to speak. A hot wind had arisen, blowing the girl’s hair back from her face.

  Lily turned. Auroras of blue and gold light hung above the soaring monuments, dancing and wafting like enormous veils in the sky. The pyramids themselves glowed utterly white, capped by brilliant gold.

  Deep below, in the Chambers of Light, the crystal gate had ceased its revolutions, having discharged all of its life-force to the land above. Inside the crystal, its substance had transmuted into liquid, which gently bubbled. Within this new, amniotic energy, a foetus hung, tiny as a grain of wheat. Yet its growth was rapid. Now a boy-child was suspended within the stone. His eyes were eyes closed, his beautiful face at peace, dreaming of the world to come. A son of gods was growing there, from seed to man.

  Daniel and his companions had left the crypt of St Menas and, following Shemyaza’s final instructions, had made their way to the Giza complex. Daniel had not wanted to come, and Gadreel had been forced to drag him physically from the church. He’d wanted to stay there, unsure himself as to why. Perhaps he harboured a spark of hope that Shemyaza might rise up out of the well, as he had clawed his way from the land-slide in Cornwall, five years before. Daniel could not hate Salamiel for what he’d done, aware that he’d had no choice, but neither did he want, at this moment, to be close to Shem’s killer. Gadreel, however, had been persistent, and eventually Daniel had given in to her demands.

  A hired mini-bus had brought them out of the city, but they’d had to walk for quite a way, owing to the congestion on the roads. Chaos reigned on the Giza plateau. It seemed as if the end of the world had come. Many people were running around and shouting, while others looked paralysed by shock and fear. The avatars were forced to push through hysterical crowds. Around them, a multitude of hands pointed up at the sky. Daniel stared blearily at the aurora of light dancing above the pyramids. He could tell that most of the crowd believed it be a special effect, created purposefully for the party. Those who perhaps guessed the truth stood quietly, gazing at the sky. The pyramids were dazzling beacons of raw, white light, each crowned with a golden sun that illuminated the night. It was a strange and electrifying sight, but none of the avatars felt capable of commenting on it. All were wrapped in cauls of isolated grief, and words did not exist that could express it. Not one of them doubted that Shemyaza’s journey into the Chambers was somehow responsible for the phenomena around them. A great change was about to happen, but for them the greatest and most shattering change had already taken place. Shemyaza was dead. It was duty that led them here now. They no longer cared what happened, but there was an urge within them to join the others who, like them, had been Shemyaza’s companions: Tiy and Melandra. They all needed to be together at this time.

  Daniel concentrated on locating the women, extending his psychic perception over the heads of the frantic crowd. Faintly, he picked up the sound of weeping; sibilant sobs that echoed in his mind. It came directly from the Sphinx enclosure. It was Melandra and Tiy. Strangely, he sensed they were not alone, but accompanied by two other females. These others felt familiar to Daniel’s senses, but he co
uld not quite recognise them. There was too much going on around him, and his misery interfered with the clarity of his sight.

  ‘The enclosure,’ he said to the others. ‘The women are by the paws of the Sphinx.’

  A mob of people covered in body paint suddenly surged around them, and the avatars were pushed into one another.

  ‘I can’t stand much more of this,’ Pharmaros said. ‘It’s so claustrophobic. Great Anu, if only we could fly over their heads!’

  Although Penemue could not understand her words, he clearly read her distress, for he eased himself to the front of their group and with firm but gentle strength, began to push people aside, so that the group could pass through. Silently, he cleared a path for them to the Sphinx enclosure.

  Because of his height, Penemue noticed the women first and began to gesture urgently at his companions. Daniel shouldered his way to the front, saw Melandra squatting beside an old woman who was slumped on the ground, then noticed a tall younger woman with auburn hair standing beside them. He cried her name in surprise. ‘Lily!’

  Lily turned, paused for moment, then came loping towards him. She wrapped him in a tight embrace. ‘Daniel, oh Daniel!’ After a few moments, she pulled away from him a little and took his face in her hands. ‘Is it true, Dan? About Shem?’

  Daniel swallowed thickly and nodded. He could not stem the tears that came to his eyes. Lily held him to her fiercely, whispering endearments into his hair; endearments to which, ultimately, he could never respond. ‘I am here for you, my love, always here.’

  He could not offer up deep, wrenching sobs of grief, but just an endless river of silent tears.

  Penemue, Pharmaros and Gadreel went to kneel beside Tiy and Melandra. They seemed numb, shocked. Helen trotted away from them and joined her mother, clinging to Daniel’s knees, her face set in a tight expression.

  It seemed that none of them could see, or even sense, the activity around them. They were alone in their bewilderment, abandoned by light, their parts played.

  Salamiel and Kashday stood a short distance away, observing the others. Kashday felt that their companions were being hard on Salamiel. They could not speak to him. Kashday himself was at a loss for words, but felt that someone should at least stand at Salamiel’s side. He had had the hardest task of all.

  Salamiel put a hand on Kashday’s shoulder. ‘There is grief and there is sorrow,’ he said in a weak approximation of his usual cynical tone, ‘but there is also reunion.’

  Kashday reached up and took Salamiel’s hand. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘There is that.’

  Salamiel shook his head. ‘No, you don’t understand. That young woman crushing Daniel is your daughter. It is Lily.’

  Kashday stiffened. ‘Lily…?’

  ‘Yes.’ Salamiel pushed him forward. ‘She has her daughter with her. I don’t know why or how they’re here, but it must be for a reason. For Anu’s sake, go to them.’

  Kashday hesitated for a moment. He could only think that this stranger was Helen Winter’s daughter more than his. He had never seen her in the flesh and now, so solid and alive before him, she did not match the child of his imagination. She was a woman, not a girl.

  ‘Kashday,’ Salamiel said softly, ‘you must. Let something be salvaged from what we have lost.’

  Kashday glanced back at his companion, then approached his daughter. He was afraid of her. Would she condemn him for his long absence from her life? Perhaps she did not want a father. Her mother might have said anything to her.

  Even though Lily’s face was buried in Daniel’s hair, she seemed to sense Kashday’s presence, for she raised her head as he drew close. Their eyes met. Lily frowned, her expression puzzled, as if she struggled to recapture a memory.

  Daniel appeared to become aware of her anxiety, for he pulled away from her. He rubbed his hands wearily over his face, managed a weak smile. ‘Lily… this is someone you must meet. It is your father, Kashday.’

  Lily uttered a small sound of shock. ‘Father?’ she said, as if experimenting with the word.

  ‘Yes,’ Daniel said. ‘He has been with us, Lil, through everything that happened tonight.’

  Lily took a few steps towards Kashday, shaking her head. ‘You have come back,’ she said. ‘We thought you were lost.’

  Kashday nodded. ‘For a long time. Yes.’ He paused. ‘I had not hoped for this.’

  Lily studied his face for a moment, then closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around him. He could feel her shaking. More tears. She was not like Helen, his lost love, for in his arms she was tall and felt strong. Helen had always seemed physically delicate, a creature to be enwrapped and cherished. He could sense the complexities of Lily’s emotions and character; there would be much to learn about her.

  ‘You will come home with us, won’t you?’ Lily murmured.

  And now, at last, Kashday could say, ‘Yes.’ In that moment, he knew that the past had released him and that his true life had been given back.

  He did not see Lily’s daughter come to stand beside them, and only became aware of her when her small but firm voice interrupted their reunion. ‘Hello, Grandfather.’

  Kashday glanced down and saw her looking up at him gravely. For a moment, he did not see the face of a child, but the features of an adult woman. It was a face known instinctively by all Grigori: Ishtahar, Shemyaza’s lover, priestess of Kharsag. Kashday uttered a sound of surprise and took a step back, but then the image fled and only a dark-haired, pretty little girl stood before him.

  ‘This is Helen,’ Lily said. ‘I named her after Mum.’

  Kashday nodded. There was very little of the grandmother in Helen. She was a Grigori child through and through, knowing in the ways a human woman could never be. He scooped the child up into his arms and pressed her against him. She clung to him like a kitten, smelling faintly of musky earth and cedar wood.

  The reunion of Lily and her father had held everyone’s attention in the near vicinity. Even strangers had paused to watch. Nobody noticed that, by paw of the Sphinx, Melandra lowered Tiy gently to the ground and then got to her feet. Her hoarse shout made everyone jump. ‘Our lord is dead, yet you forget this and smile! How dare you! He’s dead! He’s dead!’

  Eyes turned to look at her, but no-one spoke. Her face looked wild, demented, then her eyes narrowed. ‘You are all free now, aren’t you? He paid the price, gave up his life. All you feel is relief.’

  For a moment, there was silence, then Salamiel’s voice cut like a blade into the stillness. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about. No-one feels relieved, least of all me. It was I who had to kill him.’

  Melandra stared at him with wide, fierce eyes, then said in a bewildered voice, ‘You killed him? You?’

  Salamiel was still spattered with dried blood across his face and neck. It was evidence enough.

  ‘He had no choice,’ Gadreel said coldly. ‘Shemyaza ordered him to do it.’

  Melandra uttered a snarl and spat in Salamiel’s face. ‘Betrayer! Judas! You’re not fit to wear his blood’

  Salamiel did not flinch, but stood erect, his expression hard. Melandra’s spittle gleamed upon his face. ‘I’ll kill you for this!’ Melandra growled. ‘You’re dead meat!’

  ‘Quite the little zealot, aren’t you?’ Salamiel said shakily.

  Melandra did not reply to this. She bunched her fists and punched Salamiel hard in the chest. He groaned and staggered backwards.

  Daniel pushed himself between them and placed his hands on Melandra’s arms. ‘Stop it!’ he said in a calm voice. ‘We’ve all been through enough.’

  Melandra turned on him, apparently ready to attack Daniel as well, but before she could take any further action, a baying ululation swept through the crowd on the plateau above.

  Instinctively, everyone turned their heads towards the pyramids. The aurora had expanded and now filled the sky with a ghostly image. It seemed to be smoking directly out of the apex of the pyramid of Cheops, drawing substance from the golden light th
at blazed there. A willow forest of long hair snaked wildly around the apparition’s head, netting stars. Its face was as big as the pyramid itself, its features elongated, its eyes burning cauldrons of turquoise fire. It was a star giant, imprinted against the black night sky.

  Silence fell upon the gathering on the plateau like the aftermath of a slap on flesh. The gaze of the smouldering eyes above them was hypnotic. They were frozen where they stood, like tiny prey in the shadow of a swaying cobra.

  Daniel stared at the image in the sky. He did not feel afraid, nor sensed any malevolent intent. He had seen this face before, or one like it. An Elder. ‘Shem has succeeded,’ he murmured. ‘He must have succeeded.’

  Lily curled her hand through his elbow, shaking her head. ‘But it’s so beautiful,’ she breathed. ‘So strange.’

  Daniel could not tear his eyes away from the Elder’s smoking eyes. He felt as if his consciousness was being drawn upwards, right into them. The crowd around him melted away. He was alone. All that existed was the silence of the night and the presence of the Elder.

  Daniel’s spirit hung before the alien countenance. Its elliptical eyes were a window onto the corners of the world. The apocalypse had come. Daniel saw images of the twelve sites of the sacred crystals around the globe. He witnessed what had happened as midnight had passed across the planet, and what would happen as the hour swept further west.

  First, the past. His inner eye looked upon a snow-capped mountain, where a lofty temple hugged the sheer crags. Saffron-robed figures sat cross-legged within it, chanting three repetitive notes. Some of them conjured a ringing chime from bowls of bronze and gold. They were Nying-ma-pa Buddhist monks. Above the pagoda roofs of their temple, the image of an Elder god reared up to fill the sky behind their sacred mountain. Watching, Daniel knew that the mountain had housed a crystal, which had been buried millennia before and had lain dormant since that time. Now, its energy had awoken, and the high lamas prepared for a new cycle of karma. To them, it was the eyes of Pahdma-sam-bava, the oldest lama, that blazed down from the sky. Samsara had ended.