Stealing Sacred Fire

by Constantine, Storm

  Now, Daniel looked a short time into the future, upon an isolated Greek peninsula, a place where no women ventured. He saw a crumbling monastery that nestled within the woods at the foot of a holy mountain. Within it, black-clad priests prayed incessantly. On the walls, murals of the Second Coming and Revelations shivered with eerie life in the light of candles. As Daniel watched, twelve of the bearded priests rose to their feet and silently left the sanctuary of the chapel. They carried with them a rare jewel of clearest crystal. They knew it as the key to one of the twelve gates of Heaven and it had been revealed to them within the tomb of their founder.

  The priests had read the signs and heeded the omens. Now, as they filed out into the darkness, the sky over the mountain was filled with the countenance of their lord. They averted their eyes, for they feared to look upon his radiance. They would journey to the foot of the mountain to witness his descent. Then a great voice filled their ears and said to them, ‘Behold, it is done. I am the alpha and omega, the beginning and the end. I am the root and the offspring of El, the bright morning star. To you who have guarded the seventh seal I shall give the waters of life. I shall wipe away every tear from your eyes and death shall be no more, neither shall there be mourning and pain. Go down to the lowlands and find yourselves wives, for the former things have passed away.’

  Now Daniel’s vision sped further into the future, to the slopes of a pointed mountain in Mexico. Many people had gathered there. Astronomers and Ufologists mingled with the surviving remnants of native tribes. Tiny earth-lights whizzed around the dark peak; cherry red, amber and blue. The gaze of a huge phantom in the star-encrusted firmament burned down upon the crowds. Some saw the black, slanted eyes of an alien visitor, while others beheld the burning green fire of the god Quetzalcoatl’s return.

  Daniel’s perception shifted to midnight in England. He saw a gathering of tribal youth who swarmed over the grassy sides of a sacred tor in Somerset. They had come to celebrate the new year, but the beat of drums and the warble of their voices had died away. A vision had appeared that filled the sky: the great earth goddess, her arms extended, her hair aflame. Nobody moved. The brightly-painted faces of the crowd were transfixed by the apparition. They heard a triad of sweet, female voices that belled out across the mist-girdled land. ‘All hail the return of the once and future Dragon King, who has supped from the crystal chalice of life.’

  Images flickered rapidly before Daniel’s perception. He saw glimpses of seven other points on the earth, where the spirit of an Elder had been evoked by the summons of a hidden crystal. In every location, all who encountered the vision beheld the harbinger of their hopes, dreams and beliefs. All the sacred deities of the world’s civilisation had manifested as the dreaming mind of the world and its peoples had always remembered them.

  When midnight struck in whatever part of the world, humanity had held, and would hold, its breath. Even those who had not been drawn to the sacred sites would feel that something momentous was happening. The celebrants of New Year’s parties across the globe would invoke the spirit of the new age. It would come as hope, as potential.

  Suddenly, Daniel’s perception was snatched back to England. He saw the chimneys of High Crag; stark against a clear, cold sky. The French windows that led out to the gardens at the back of the house were open, and sounds of merriment echoed out over the rolling lawns. Enniel Prussoe walked across the frosty grass, arm in arm with a human woman. Daniel recognised her: Emma Manden, his old friend, now mistress of the Pelleth witches. The Pelleth and the Grigori had ever been wary adversaries. Now, Emma threw back her head and stared up at the sky. She laughed. The air was like chilled sparkling wine, the stars fizzing overhead. Neither Enniel nor Emma spoke, but Daniel sensed a peace between them; an impression of coming home, of casting off the past. His heart ached to behold it. He thought of his own family, in the village of Little Moor. So long since he’d seen his father and sister. Thought was transport enough.

  There was Verity, his sister, sitting alone in the drawing room of Low Mede, his old home. Daniel felt as if he was sucked into the house. It had hardly changed. Verity sat before a roaring fire, yet rubbed her arms, as if a cold draught had passed over her. She looked older, but more serene.

  ‘Vez,’ Daniel murmured, but she could not hear him. She held a glass of red wine against her chest.

  Daniel didn’t want her to be alone, not on this night, but he sensed no other human presence in the house. He knew then that his father was dead. Poor, solitary Verity. He wanted to be with her, comfort her. Then, the door to the drawing-room opened and a tall, dark-haired man came into the room. He was not human, but not Grigori either. A spirit creature in some respects, but also a being of flesh. Verity smiled languorously, turned, and held out a hand to him. He curled up beside her on the sofa, enfolded in her arms. They did not speak, but gazed into the fire together, as if they dreamed of the future. Outside, the church bells rang, chiming in the new era.

  Now, Daniel’s perception swept up the Thames in London, where an icy wind fretted the surface of the water. He was a bird, skimming between the brightly lit buildings on either bank. His attention came to rest high above the Embankment, by Cleopatra’s Needle. He saw two figures standing together, muffled in thick coats and scarves, between the great lions. A man and a woman. It was Aninka Prussoe, who had once been a lover of Peverel Othman’s, and Lahash Murkaster, the assassin who’d been sent to Little Moor to kill him. Lahash and Aninka had been estranged the last time Daniel had seen them. He was glad to see they had re-established contact. But were they lovers now? Lahash put one hand inside his coat and withdrew a dark gleaming object. It was his gun, the symbol of his profession. He handed it to Aninka. She held it up towards the stars for a moment, then tossed it out into the dark, shifting waters of the ancient river. Simultaneously, Big Ben began to toll in the New Year and across the entire city, a great cheer went up. Fireworks exploded in light above the steeples and the towers. Aninka and Lahash held each other tight before the sacred waters. They too had cast off the past: his need to avenge and kill, her obsession with unrequited love.

  Daniel had witnessed glimpses of the lives of people who had been close to him over the last five years. It seemed the millennium had brought promise, hope and reconciliation for them. But there were others, whom Daniel had not yet seen. His mind shied away from touching the sore spots of his past.

  Relentlessly, his perception took to the air once more and he was snatched back to Cornwall, not to High Crag, but the cottage that Lily shared with her daughter and brother. Owen Winter. I do not want to see this, Daniel thought, sure that there could be no shining road of optimism opening up for Owen. Fighting the vision, Daniel saw the warm lights of the cottage spilling out into the winter countryside. In the distance, he heard the lash of the ocean against serpentine rocks. He was pulled into the kitchen of the cottage, where two people sat at the bare wooden table, a bottle standing open between them. One of them was Owen, Daniel saw that straight away, but the other... It took a moment for recognition to occur. Then he realised it was Taziel Levantine, another of Daniel’s past lovers, whom he had spurned to be with Shemyaza. Both Taziel and Owen had felt very bitter towards Daniel; perhaps together they could heal those past hurts. They drank together in silence, as if conversation had dwindled, but their postures were relaxed, their faces content in companionship.

  Daniel’s perception now swirled up into the heavens once more. It was all so neat, so tidy, he thought. All these endings and new beginnings. He knew that what he’d seen were only visualisations, and therefore perhaps mere approximations of what would happen as the New Year occurred in England. But he also realised that he had been shown something very important. The potential for change was sweeping across the world and, as the bells chimed at midnight, past bitterness and resentment would fade — even if only for a few moments. New alliances, ideas and loves could grow in that fertile soil. In the midst of battle, soldiers would drop their weapons and beho
ld with clear eyes the faces of those they had been ordered to destroy; murderers would pause, blades and guns in hand, above their victims; politicians would consider the hypocrisy of their policies and principles; criminals and delinquents in every country would feel a burden lift from their hearts, leaving in its wake an inexpressible hope, and in the highest cathedrals and churches, bishops and priests would kneel before their altars, pondering their dependency upon dogma and faith in the unseen. Ordinary people would feel as if invisible shackles had fallen from their bodies, minds and hearts. They might liken it to having been asleep all their lives. Now they were awake and could see the world with fresh, new eyes. They would be inspired to seek new destinies. Perhaps somewhere a young man or woman would suddenly have their own vision of the future and dream some life-changing invention or political theory. Coincidence might align to let wonderful things happen.

  What Daniel saw in his own life, and the lives of those he knew, was but a small reflection of the greater whole. The changes in the world would not be immediate or dramatic. Gods might have appeared in the sky this night, but the phenomenon was fleeting, like the brilliance of a fire-work. What really mattered was what lived and endured within the hearts of Grigori and humanity. In the moments of stillness, when anger lost its power, both races would be given a chance, a respite from cruel feeling, to really see the world and remember what once it had been. That was Shemyaza’s gift and the legacy of the Chambers of Light.

  Now, at Giza, the great pendulum of time swung above the earth and rolled the midnight hour over into the new millennium. Daniel looked down upon the plateau. He knew that soon the Elder would be leaving this plane forever and was granted knowledge of his passing.

  Deep within the blackest depths of the oceans, the kings of the earth sang out in booming, siren voices. Their cry echoed through every sea, lighting up the darkest caverns. The ultra-sonic tones of their song called to the spirit that burned brightly in the sky above Giza. The Elder’s form dispersed in ripples, and travelled like sparkling mist across the night sky. Faster now, it streamed over the land and the ocean boiled at its approach. An explosion of sound and spray succeeded the fusion of salt water and ether; the Elder had plunged into the waves to join with the wailing song, a song that shook the world.

  Daniel, his perception firmly back in his own body, knew he had beheld an event that had already taken place in some parts of the world and waited to take place in others. He could hardly breathe in the wake of his vision. His eyes were filled with tears of awe. Dimly, he was aware of the voices of his companions calling his name. He realised that Gadreel was shaking him, staring with concern into his face. ‘It’s all right,’ he murmured.

  ‘It has gone!’ Gadreel cried. ‘It just seemed to break up and vanish.’

  Daniel looked over her shoulder and saw that the apparition of the Elder had disappeared. The strange luminance had left the pyramids; they were just monuments of stone. The crowd on the plateau had regained the power of movement. Shrieks filled the air, whoops of joy, sobs of fear. People jumped up and down in frenzied excitement, or crouched on the ground in weeping huddles.

  Then, the ground began to shake once more.

  ‘What now?’ Lily cried. ‘Is it over? Daniel, what’s going to happen to us next?’

  Daniel had no answer for her. Surely, now that the power of the Chambers had been released into the world and the last fragments of the Elders had been set free, the phenomena should cease. His flesh went cold. What if the Chambers were collapsing? The entire Giza plateau might be destroyed in an earthquake. All those people! Daniel shuddered in horror and turned to Lily. ‘We’ve got to get out of here. All of us!’ The ground heaved beneath his feet and he stumbled. People were screaming now and stampeding in all directions. The avatars and their companions were pushed against the wall of the Sphinx enclosure as people tried to scrabble out. Tiy had come back to her senses and was blinking her blind eyes in fear. Melandra held onto her tightly, trying to murmur comfort. Her own face was distorted in a grimace of terror.

  An immense rumbling roar filled the air, accompanied by a the sound of splintering rock. The tremors increased and the remaining people in the enclosure fell to the ground. Daniel and his companions were engulfed in a bright, acidic radiance that dazzled their eyes. The great left paw of the Sphinx had begun to rise up, as if on a giant hinge. Slowly, slowly, it reared towards the sky. Dust and stone fell down from it in choking shower.

  ‘The Chambers!’ Daniel cried. ‘They have opened.!’

  The paw had come to rest now, rising vertically into the air in a parody of a salute. Sand sifted down from it in granular streams. Gradually, the tremors died away, until there was stillness.

  Daniel jumped to his feet and ran towards the opening that had appeared beneath the paw. His companions followed closely. Light poured out of the tunnel revealed below the monument. A great stone ramp disappeared downwards into its radiance.

  Other people around the Sphinx had staggered to their feet and now cautiously approached the opening. Crowds on the plateau had surged towards the lip of the enclosure to see what had happened. The avatars and their companions formed a line at the front of the crowds.

  ‘Shall we go down?’ Gadreel asked.

  Daniel shook his head. ‘Not yet.’ He felt at peace, his heart full of a joyous warmth. Why had he lacked faith? He had been wrong. He should have known.

  A shadow formed against the white radiance, the shape of a tall figure who was walking up the ramp towards the opening.

  ‘Who is it?’ Pharmaros asked.

  Daniel looked at her. ‘Do you have to ask?’ He could wait no longer and stepped into the radiance, holding out his arms. Presently, Shemyaza, reborn and naked, stepped into his embrace.

  An ululating wail broke the silence, the sound of women’s voices, but no longer singing a lament. All across Giza, women of every faith and creed were united in their beliefs. They sang an instinctive paean. ‘The king has risen! Long live the king!’

  ‘Shem,’ Daniel breathed. He could say no more.

  Shemyaza held his face in his hands and kissed him. For a moment, they looked into each other’s eyes. Daniel was unsure of what he saw in Shemyaza’s gaze. He had changed; it was inevitable, but the light of love still burned within him.

  ‘My vizier,’ Shemyaza said. ‘I am glad you are here.’

  His arm around Daniel’s shoulder, he walked out of the tunnel and stood before his waiting followers. Daniel stepped away from him. Shemyaza looked inhuman, filled with the Elders’ power. His nakedness seemed to enhance his strangeness. All was silent, and Shemyaza looked into the faces of his companions, one by one. Behind them, the crowd stared in uncanny silence, their eyes wide.

  Then, an Egyptian soldier pushed his way to the front of the crowd. Everybody tensed, but the man fell to his knees and held out to Shemyaza a rough, army blanket. ‘You must be cold, master,’ he said.

  Shemyaza thanked the soldier, wrapped himself in the blanket, and spoke. ‘Lament no more, my faithful company, for I have risen.’ Then, he smiled. ‘No more prophecies. The work is done. Come to me, sisters. I need you.’ As one, Lily, Tiy, Melandra and Gadreel ran towards him and threw their arms around him and one another. Shemyaza laughed and called out above their heads. ‘Come, Pharmaros, why aren’t you with us?’

  Pharmaros hesitated only a moment, then smiled to herself and went up to join the huddle. After a few moments, Shemyaza gently eased himself from the women’s hold and stepped forward, holding the blanket at his throat. Helen stood alone in front of him and he squatted down before her. For a while, he just stared at her face.

  Then Helen reached out and touched his cheek with small fingers. ‘I thought that you weren’t coming back,’ she said. ‘I thought I would be alive in the world, like you were, but alone.’

  Shemyaza ruffled her dark hair. ‘Ishtahar, little Ishtahar. Of course I came back. I couldn’t leave you here alone. Your love brought me back.’ He kissed
her forehead.

  Tiy nodded at them, smiling. ‘You have some growing to do, girl, but it will not be long before you are a woman and will become his bride. You will be the queen of heaven.’

  Helen smiled shyly and fought to suppress a shy giggle. She was still just a child.

  Shemyaza stood up once more and turned to Salamiel. ‘My brother, will you welcome me.’

  Salamiel uttered an agonised sound and turned his face away. ‘Why are you alive?’ he asked in an unsteady voice. ‘I murdered you.’ Then, he whirled round to face Shemyaza, his red hair flying, yet he spoke in a whisper. ‘”Love me, Salamiel,” you said. “Kill me,” you said. And I loved you so much, I did as you asked. Part of me died too in that church, Shem. Now, here you are. Good as new. You mock my pain!’

  Shemyaza shook his head and spoke softly. ‘No, Salamiel, no. What you did was an act of grace. It brought in the new epoch. I had the easier job.’ He kept his eyes fixed on Salamiel’s face and sank to his knees. ‘Please, Salamiel, don’t look on me as the person you destroyed. The world is different now, and so am I. I don’t want to play the martyr. You think you murdered me, violated me, but what you did was purify me. The scapegoat of the people is dead now, forever.’

  Tiy raised her arms and spoke, her cracked voice ringing out over the crowd. ‘It is accomplished! All your struggles are ended, Salamiel. Do not hold on to them! The salvation of your land and the glory of your people is at hand. If you must weep tears, then weep tears of joy.’

  Shemyaza suppressed a smile. Then, he lowered his head. ‘Give me your forgiveness, brother. That’s all I ask.’

  Salamiel looked down upon Shemyaza’s bent head. He glanced to the side and caught Daniel’s furious eye glaring directly at him. Then he sighed and knelt down before Shemyaza. ‘Then, I forgive you, brother.’ He laughed shakily. ‘Daniel will not forgive me if I don’t.’

  They embraced, and then Shemyaza rose to his feet. He held out his arms and his voice rang out across the sands of Giza. ‘Gather around me, my brethren. We shall return to the city of Babylon. There our paradise will be regained.’