Gene of Isis mt-1

by Traci Harding

‘We should just concentrate on getting our sister to safety.’ Devere warned me against pushing our luck.

  ‘Of course, you’re right,’ I agreed, my mind still mulling over how to get around Molier’s security measures. ‘I think we could do with some professional help. I need to consult with Cingar. Perhaps there is a way of gaining access without smashing any windows and raising the alarm. The more of a head start we can get on our journey eastwards the better. Albray,’ I turned to my knight, ‘I am guessing Molier is somewhere between here and Rome. Please find out how many days he is away.’ He vanished and we turned to seek out Cingar, only to find Lord Devere staring at us, undoubtedly concerned for our mental health.

  ‘Who on earth are you both talking to?’

  ‘You don’t want to know,’ Earnest advised.

  ‘The good news is that Susan is on board,’ I added on a positive note. ‘And I believe I have a plan.’

  ‘Grand.’ Lord Devere forced a smile. ‘That is so very reassuring.’

  With a bag full of gold francs supplied by Lord Devere, Cingar and his wife rowed ashore and were able to secure the aid we required.

  Albray returned that afternoon. He had discovered that Molier was indeed in Rome, negotiating with the Vatican over the collection of rare biblical texts, and it would take several days for him to rejoin his vessel.

  Come nightfall, the Devere brothers, Cingar and I rowed across to the wharves and waited in the rowboat. Cingar’s ‘aid’ was due to arrive soon. Our target was docked at the end of the longest wharf. To ensure a fast getaway, Captain Falco had moored offshore.

  ‘This may not work, you realise?’ my husband whispered to me. ‘These men could well be sworn to chastity by their order.’

  ‘Were you?’ My question was rhetorical. ‘Besides, they’re Frenchmen.’

  ‘Here they come.’ Cingar pointed to the small crowd of ladies making their way up the wharf, their arms loaded with supplies.

  ‘Ahoy there!’ the woman in front yelled, before ascending the gangway.

  When members of the crew spied the gathering of women, whistles and cries of approval sounded. ‘What can we do for you, ladies?’

  ‘It is more what we can do for you, gentlemen,’ the lady replied. ‘Lord Molier instructed us to feed his men in his absence. We have brought fresh food, wine and company. May we come aboard?’

  Molier had left one of his personal staff on board to keep an eye on the crew, and he was hesitant to give consent. However, he was eventually persuaded by the rest of the crew to allow the women on board—they knew as well as he did that their superiors would not be back for days, in any case.

  ‘I still don’t know about this.’ Lord Devere was very edgy.

  Albray motioned to the bow, where I spied Susan watching the commotion from a window.

  ‘My lord…’ I gestured to the window and upon sighting his love, Lord Devere leapt to his feet. ‘Susan!’

  ‘Shhh!’ All three of us yanked him down to a huddled position. Thankfully, our prey had not heard a thing over the din they made welcoming the whores.

  ‘My wife is here,’ James said in amazement.

  ‘You were in doubt?’ I teased, relieved that my brother-in-law would finally throw his all into our quest. Well sighted, I commended silently to Albray, thankful for the timely intervention.

  Anything to stop him whining, Albray commented, and both my husband and myself had to smother our amusement.

  ‘I take back every negative comment I’ve ever made about your methods.’ Lord Devere finally awarded us our due. ‘I shall never doubt you again.’

  Praise the Great Mother, a convert!

  ‘Best wait until this rescue is over before you start thanking us,’ Mr Devere suggested, settling back against the side of the boat to await the signal from our decoys that it was clear to board.

  An hour or so later the whistle came, and we crept from our rowboat onto the wharf and made our way swiftly up the gangplank.

  ‘All dead to the world,’ announced the woman in charge of the covert mission, and her associates chuckled.

  ‘I guess my great-grandmother’s sleeping potion really works,’ Cingar commented, amused, as we moved past the unconscious crew.

  ‘If it works nearly as well as her sleeping spell, they’ll be out for days,’ said Devere, a little spitefully, having been a victim of the spell.

  ‘It’s not quite as potent. Depending on how much they’ve consumed, it should keep them under for the better part of a day.’ I was delighted by the result, despite my husband’s feelings about my methods. ‘I am truly blessed to have a gypsy witch among my otherworldly associates.’

  ‘Don’t say any more,’ Lord Devere pleaded in a whisper. ‘That’s really a bit more information than I need to know.’

  My brother-in-law was a good Christian and I well knew that my connections and means were too unorthodox and unnerving for him. ‘I feel certain god will not send you to hell for using heathen means to save your wife.’ I couldn’t resist a dig at his staunch religion, in which I held no faith whatsoever.

  ‘Indeed.’ He didn’t agree. ‘I think I am most fortunate that we live in this century and not the fifteenth, or we’d all be burning for tonight’s deeds.’

  ‘Only if we get caught,’ I retorted boldly, and the lord ventured a smile.

  At the entrance to the galley level stairs we were met by one of the most attractive of the ladies, dangling a set of keys taken from her unconscious victim. “Twas as easy as taking sweets from a baby.’

  I graciously took the keys from her and cast my eyes back to Lord Devere, who bowed his head to concede his admiration and gratitude. Then we headed below.

  Albray led me to the room where Susan was being held captive and after a short guessing game with the keys, we finally found one that fitted the lock and the door swung open.

  ‘James!’ Susan exclaimed in disbelief, and rushed into his waiting arms. ‘I’ve been so worried.’ She shed tears of relief that he’d not perished at sea. ‘How did you escape?’

  James motioned back to Earnest and me, who waved from the doorway. ‘I knew that somehow you’d know.’ Our dear sister rushed to embrace us both. ‘You found my clue?’

  ‘We did.’ I squeezed her briefly, shedding a tear of relief myself. ‘We can discuss this later, as time is something we don’t have an abundance of.’

  ‘Too true,’ James agreed, grabbing Susan’s hand and leading her down the passageway, to where Cingar was waving at us to hurry up.

  ‘Cingar has booked passage for you both on a ship bound for France early tomorrow. He’ll lead you to your transport.’ I backed up in the opposite direction.

  ‘And where do you think you are going, Mrs Devere?’ My husband, who’d headed after the others, halted.

  ‘You know that there is something else I have to do,’ I said regretfully. ‘I am unsure of how long it might take and have no wish to endanger anyone further. I shall meet you back at the rowboat as soon as I can.’

  ‘I am not departing without you,’ Devere and Cingar insisted as one, which immediately made me furious.

  ‘When are you men going to learn that I can take care of myself!’ I had backed up to the corridor where Albray stood in wait for me.

  ‘We have to talk, Ashlee.’ Susan also implored me to leave with them. ‘Molier is more than he seems. He is dangerous beyond all imagination, even your imagination.’ Susan resisted her husband’s gentle tug toward the exit. ‘You must believe me. He is more powerful and dark than anything you have encountered in the past.’

  ‘I do believe you,’ I assured her, ‘but some events are fated, and we must rise to the challenge without thought for the cost.’ This is what Albray had done, and I glanced at him, proud that he was a kindred spirit. I didn’t have to know the details of his demise in service of the greater good; his whole being radiated the unmistakable aura of a hero, too decent to boast of his own miraculous deeds. ‘Take my kin to their transport, Cingar, or I sh
all never forgive you.’ I made a break for the corridor, following Albray—my husband was hot on my heels.

  ‘I should have known he’d be behind this,’ Devere commented when he saw Albray.

  Albray stopped in front of a door and I shuffled through the keys in search of one that might fit the lock. ‘Either you are going to help us or not. If the answer is not, then please just leave us to it. ’

  ‘Of course I’ll help.’ Devere stopped as he caught up with me. ‘I just wish you would confide in me every once in a while.’

  We accomplish things faster when we act on our own. Albray fuelled my husband’s anxiety.

  ‘Albray,’ I cautioned him. ‘Do I have to dismiss you?’

  ‘What a good idea.’ Devere seconded the motion and I rolled my eyes, frustrated with the argument and my lack of success with the keys.

  ‘I shall insist that you both leave in a minute!’ I said crossly and stamped my foot. I shuffled through the keys once more. ‘Where is the key to this wretched door?’

  Perhaps Molier has it? Albray was annoyed that he’d overlooked such a major detail.

  I nodded. ‘None of these fit.’ I leant my head against the door, defeated.

  ‘Then there is no point in loitering here any longer.’ Devere was not unhappy at our failure.

  You don’t seem to understand. Albray decided to enlighten our unwilling accomplice. If we can steal the Fire vial then Molier loses his power…he is entirely dependent on its subtance!

  ‘Well, how are we expected to steal it if we cannot unlock the door?’ Devere retorted. ‘You’re being unreasonable and placing my wife in unnecessary danger.’

  There is another way we might gain entry. Albray gave me a knowing look, implying I should recognise the means to which he referred. Remember your escape from the library? he hinted further, not wanting to give too much away before we were agreed.

  ‘How did you manage that?’ My husband’s curiosity made me uneasy.

  Albray was suggesting that I use the substance contained in the Star vial hidden on my person, in order to penetrate the wall. The only problem was that I had not yet disclosed to my husband that I had this treasure, and given the enmity between my knight and Mr Devere, producing the vial at this moment was bound to cause more trouble.

  I wouldn’t suggest it unless there was no other way. Albray attempted to assuage my suspicions that he might be trying to rile my husband.

  ‘Is it dangerous?’ Devere was immediately concerned for my welfare.

  ‘Not physically dangerous, no.’ I skirted around the question, knowing my husband was going to be very disappointed in me.

  Devere backed up a step, sensing that Albray and I were again keeping secrets from him. ‘What then?’ His voice had an underlying sense of betrayal.

  I figured the best way to break the news was to produce the item, so, putting my hand down the front of my garments, I drew out the vial.

  My husband may have been awed by the presence of the vial, but he was emotionally confused at the same time. ‘You’ve had it all along?’

  ‘Hereford entrusted it to me,’ I confirmed and Devere’s hurt was obvious.

  ‘You do realise I have the ability to read your mind?’ He directed the question at me and I nodded. I was aware that his psychic powers had strengthened. ‘At any time I could have read your mind and discovered your secret, but I did not! And do you know why?’

  ‘Because you trust me?’ I said timorously.

  ‘More the fool me!’ Devere barked, and turned away to contain his anger.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I had to be sure you no longer served your brotherhood, who would probably do anything to obtain possession of this substance.’ I referred to Hereford’s death.

  When Devere turned his eyes back on me, his expression was very dark indeed. ‘After what Chavi Choron told you, you still doubt my loyalty? Tell me, how long until you forgive me my one misstep?’

  And he wonders why we never tell him anything. Albray was fed up with the delay, but his comment made me fume.

  ‘Dismissed.’ I turned my ire on him.

  No, don’t, he appealed rather desperately.

  ‘Dismissed…’

  I’m sorry I spoke…but we are—

  ‘Dismissed.’ As Albray vanished, I looked at Devere.

  ‘Thank you.’ He seemed mildly pacified by the development.

  ‘If I didn’t trust you, I would not have produced the vial now,’ I informed him, removing the stopper and placing a few of the tiny sparkling particles on my tongue.

  ‘I don’t see that you had much choice in this case.’ Devere was unconvinced.

  ‘If I had desired you to be absent I could have arranged that, believe me.’ The substance caused my body to shiver with awareness. It was only then that I recalled my pregnancy and I was immediately concerned at the effect the Highward Fire-Stone might have on my developing baby. A bit late to consider the consequences now…I scolded myself for not considering the child first. I replaced the Star’s stopper and returned my treasure to its hiding place. When I looked up, Devere was smiling.

  ‘I have not proven easy to shake off in the past, if memory serves,’ he said, moving closer to become more intimate with me.

  ‘I have been lenient on you.’ I placed both my hands on the surface of the door.

  ‘Is that right?’ My challenge amused him.

  I nodded. ‘I shan’t be long.’ I focused my will on the object beyond my fingertips and, as I felt its solidity give way, I pushed myself on through to the other side.

  ‘That was amazing.’ My husband spoke through the door to commend me.

  ‘Trouble is, it’s pitch dark in here,’ making my next feat a wee bit difficult. Then it occurred to me: ‘The Star vial.’ Producing the item, I was surprised at the amount of light it awarded in a pitch dark room. Now where is this safe?

  It seemed I had dismissed Albray too soon, but rather than call him for help, I had another idea. I walked over to Molier’s desk, to probe it for its owner’s psychic imprints. Laying a palm upon it I perceived a cold, apprehensive premonition that compelled me to desist in my inquiry. I continued nonetheless and my attention was directed to a painting of the Black Madonna on the wall.

  The sound of scratching on glass startled me. It was coming from beyond the drawn blinds in the cabin.

  ‘Are you all right?’ Devere requested an update, as he must have heard my gasp.

  I approached the curtains and, swallowing back my fear, I drew the heavy fabric aside to discover a raven beyond the windows. It rasped at the thick glass with its claws, determined to penetrate it, and its angry squawks shot sharp waves of panic through my being, as if I was the cause of its senseless determination. ‘Yes, I’m fine,’ I answered Devere and breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Shoo.’ I urged the creature to give up its impossible quest.

  My attention returned to the painting despite the bird continuing to make its ruckus. I crossed the room to search for a latch around the inner back edge of the picture frame and upon triggering a mechanism, the picture swung open like a cupboard door. ‘I’ve located the safe.’

  Albray had been justified in saying that the lock that secured the iron door was rather ingenious. It was a long-barrelled padlock with no keyhole, just consecutive rings of numbers. I had heard of such devices, known as combination locks. They were an invention of the master craftsmen of the Orient. As lock picking had become an art in recent times, this type of lock was used to protect the holdings of the major banking establishments in Europe. Some of these had over a million combinations and to run through them all without interruption would take about two thousand years. It was fortunate for me that most of the world’s inhabitants were ignorant of the art of psychometry. There were six numbered dials on this particular lock and as I placed my finger on the first ring of numbers I was compelled to roll it around to the number five; then the next dial suggested the number two, and the next number six.

 
‘What do you think you are doing?’

  I heard a stranger’s voice echoing down the hallway beyond the room.

  ‘Someone is awake,’ my husband advised me through the door, and I heard him draw the gypsy sword that he still wore.

  ‘I’m almost there,’ I yelled back, hoping he could hold our foe for just a few more seconds. I locked the fourth and fifth numbers into place. Once the sixth number revealed itself, I expected the lock to somehow open, but instead the end of the cylindrical lock fell away to reveal a keyhole. ‘Damn it!’ I uttered under my breath, concerned for my husband as I heard swords clashing outside the door. I could not will the lock undone, but I could try to reach through the solid iron door.

  It’s no different to changing the composition of the parchment, I recalled Albray advising me in the library. You have the ability to do this, but if you need faith in yourself then call upon the strength of your foremothers.

  I closed my eyes to focus my intent on the thick cold iron at my fingertips.

  Women of my blood . ..

  If my intent will serve the greater welfare,

  lend to me your expertise,

  to turn this iron to air!

  My entire body began to tingle with an empowering force that was distinctly feminine: soft, graceful and intuitive. I rested my hand on one of the strongest materials known to man, and willed the Fire vial to me. I had expected to feel crystal making contact with my palm, but what was drawn into my possession was velvet. I quickly withdrew my acquisition into the light of the Star vial.

  Upon opening the red case I beheld the other half of the treasure I had been seeking—a vial, like that of the Star, that emitted a red light from a scarlet substance. I returned the Star to its usual resting-place in order to run my fingers over the glowing red treasure.

  I am watching you, Mrs Devere.

  I was startled by a malign whisper that registered in both my mind and my ears. The source was inside the room. It was only then that I realised the bird had ceased its protest. The temperature in the room had dropped. I swung around to confront the most horrific apparition I had ever encountered and could not prevent a squeal from escaping my lips.