Gene of Isis mt-1

by Traci Harding

  The mist rose high above my grasp and, gathering its sparse substance to itself, it increased in density and transformed into a black bird which flew away over the ruins.

  ‘Molier.’ I recognised this bird from Ashlee’s safebreaking incident. ‘Goddamn it!’ I ran up the road that led to the ruins. I wasn’t going to let anyone take Albray away, not even a shape-shifting, death-defying abomination! I did not consider the danger to my own person, or how ludicrous it was that I would risk my neck for a ghost!

  The black bird flew past the ruins and over the embankment on the other side, and across another plateau.

  The sharp rocks were cutting my feet to pieces, but I couldn’t feel the pain of my flesh for the pain in my heart, nor could I see where the hell I was going. The moon hung low on the horizon, shedding light on the bird, but casting shadows over the mountainous landscape.

  Then my perception of events slipped into slow motion. The bird let go of the charm. I raced toward the dark, shadowy area where my treasure was sure to land, and as I entered the shadows I felt the ground drop out from beneath me.

  Have you seen the cliffs on the far side of this mountain? I recalled Akbar asking. There is no recovering a body that has fallen down there.

  My heart was gripped by fear. I looked down into the great, vast depths of a chasm and then my body jerked to a halt as my shirt was caught up behind me and my body crashed against the jagged rock wall.

  ‘I have you, Dr Montrose.’

  I knew that voice. ‘Akbar?’ I could feel the stitching of my shirt giving way. ‘I’m slip—’

  I was abruptly jerked upwards, where a strong arm gripped my waist and I was swung back around to stand on solid ground.

  ‘Oh, my god!’ I gaped at the abyss I’d nearly fallen into and hugged tight my saviour to thank him and reassure myself that I was now safe.

  ‘What possessed you, lady?’ Akbar pried me off to look me in the eye.

  I looked back into the chasm, realising that there would be no retrieving Albray’s stone and just burst into tears.

  ‘You are traumatised.’ Akbar excused my emotional outburst and without further ado he carried me all the way back to camp.

  In my tent I sat on the side of my bed and cried uncontrollably, not entirely sure if it was the loss of my guide or the near loss of my own life that scared me more. At least if I had died I would finally have joined my knight. I should have been wearing the stone, I scolded myself. Had I not doubted Albray, I would have had no cause not to wear it. He had warned me that Molier was trying to undermine my trust in my guardian, and it seemed that Molier’s tactic had worked. I couldn’t even confront Molier over what had taken place; I would look and sound like a complete lunatic, for I had no proof of his treachery. Now I had lost an irreplaceable family heirloom…but was it irreplaceable? My tears finally ebbed, for I realised that I knew the summons that Ashlee had used. All I need do was find the same kind of ringed stone required for the summons.

  Akbar returned to my tent after a short absence, with a bucket of water and a cloth.

  ‘What is that for?’ I asked, as my sensibilities were still somewhat scattered.

  The Arab placed the bucket beside me and knelt down. ‘Your feet, lady.’ I realised what a bloody toll my misadventure had had on my person when he took up my left foot.

  I suppressed a groan as my injuries were washed clean of blood, dirt and gravel; I really hadn’t felt the pain of my injuries until now. To take my mind off my woes, I focused my consciousness into my third eye in the hope of glimpsing Akbar’s aura. I had to suppress a gasp when I perceived a goldenred hue emanating from his subtle body with its light centres whirling with bright light—he was definitely one of the good guys.

  ‘You are most fortunate to have escaped so lightly.’ Akbar tried not to sound as if he was lecturing. ‘These few scratches and bruises will heal.’ He was gentle with his first aid, but I felt awkward and not a little honoured that this man would bathe my feet.

  ‘I praise the goddess for your vigilance, Akbar,’ I placed a hand on his shoulder to distract him from his task, ‘but is it not against your customs to bathe the feet of a woman?’

  ‘You are not just any woman.’ He continued his service, but said no more due to his suspicions about surveillance in Molier’s camp.

  His words made me rather curious about something. ‘Have you ever heard of Lilith del Aquae, who was reportedly murdered by a group of assassins known as the Melchi during the time of the first crusade?’

  ‘Never.’ He stopped what he was doing to place a finger to his lips, reminding me it was not safe to speak openly. ‘Can you walk? You might fancy something to eat, perhaps?’

  ‘Ah…sure.’ I slipped my feet into my scuffs and, treading timidly at first, I accompanied Akbar outside.

  The man would not say anything until we were well clear of Molier’s dwelling in particular, which he eyed with mistrust. We strolled down the centre of the dirt road that ran through our camp.

  ‘My order has the greatest respect for the daughters of the blood,’ Akbar said in a whisper. ‘I assure you that Lilith del Aquae was not murdered by my people.’

  ‘Your people?’ I queried as if I was surprised to learn this. ‘Do you mean to say that you belong to the same order of assassins as are mentioned in the legend?’

  He gave a slight nod in confession. ‘It is true that the Melchi tried to stop Lilith del Aquae’s party from leaving the Sinai. My predecessors appealed to the priestess to return the keys to safekeeping within the mountain, where they had been since the time of the Exodus when this site was abandoned for greener pastures. When it became obvious that the Lady del Aquae was inclined to honour our request, she was killed by the knights in her company as a traitor, and although my order fought to avenge her murder and obtain the stolen keys, one knight escaped our grasp. After that, my brotherhood had some of our highest initiates penetrate the ranks of the knights of Sion to protect the daughters of Isis who lived on the Continent.’

  I had forgotten that lower France and Spain were once in the possession of the Moorish peoples, and this might have been why they had fought so hard to retain the kingdoms where the descendants of their royal bloodlines now lived. Albray could have been one such knight and the Grand Master of the Order of Sion probably would have been aware of this. Which would explain why Marie de Saint-Clair sent Albray to lead Lillet to the site in the Sinai, and why he could claim to know the way to their obscure destination!

  Albray couldn’t pditossibly have been part of Sion’s first expeion to the site. He hadn’t even been born at the time. What’s more, there was no evidence to suggest that the Order of Sion had revisited the site between that time and Molier’s expedition. While Lillet’s order had possession of the keys, Sion would have no cause to revisit the remote Mt Serâbit. So, how had Albray known the way to the Star-Fire Temple of the Elohim goddesses? Why had he been so influential with the Melchi assassins during Lillet’s debacle? He had been able to persuade them to assist his quest. Was it just the promise that he could deliver the keys back to their rightful resting place? ‘So your order has kept a history of all the comings and goings to this site in the past?’ I raised this topic with Akbar, to see what he could tell me of Albray.

  ‘I assure you that if we had murdered the priestess, the Melchi would have secured possession of the keys.’ He avoided my question, or perhaps he thought I was inquiring about the accuracy of his version of events.

  ‘But you have had limited success in keeping the keys secure within the mountain.’ I hinted at the other occasions the vials had passed in and out of the site.

  ‘It is true that the keys have slipped through our defences more than once,’ he confessed.

  ‘Lord Hereford, for example?’ I wondered how the explorer had managed to avoid being confronted by the Melchi.

  Akbar seemed embarrassed by my question. ‘After arranging for his excavation permit to be revoked, we believed he had no chance of
opening the gateway. By the time word got back to us that he had, at the last minute, succeeded, it was too late. My people did manage to track him down. He swore he had not taken anything from the temple. He claimed a strange entity had scared both he and his wife from the mount.’

  ‘But why did he lie? Because it relieved him of the burden of hiding the treasure from all who were pursuing it?’ This seemed odd to me. ‘I suppose, by that time, and with Molier on the loose, the lord could trust no one with his secret.’

  ‘But my order will not repeat the mistakes of the past,’ Akbar stated in a determined fashion. ‘When you open the mount this time, my assignment is to remove the vials and take them to a safer hiding place away from the Ark.’

  I nearly had a heart attack.

  ‘Wait a second! You want me to open the gateway?’ I stopped dead in my tracks. ‘I assumed you were here to dissuade me from such a course of action.’

  ‘I have never tried to discourage you, not since you showed me the mark of Isis,’ he replied, rather stunned that I assumed he would thwart my efforts.

  He was right. It was Albray who had been discouraging me. All Akbar had done was express a desire for Molier’s demise.

  ‘You must open the gateway. The Ark is your best hope of destroying the beast that is the curse of this place.’

  ‘Molier.’ I was less confident than ever about my capacity to fight such a formidable foe, but I didn’t wish to alarm Akbar by saying so, or ask him how he expected me to destroy such a beast. ‘Does your order recall the first time Molier visited this site?’ I resumed my slow steps toward the mess tent.

  Akbar nodded and then warned me: ‘He has prolonged his life at great cost—he has become a nocturnal creature. He has not seen dawn, dusk, or the light of day in a little under eight hundred years.’ He looked me in the eye, probably expecting me to laugh in his face—which I did not.

  ‘Molier was entombed in the mount by one of the Melchi agents who infiltrated the Order of Sion…’ I raised both eyebrows to fish for confirmation of what I already suspected.

  ‘His father was a knight of the crusades belonging to the Scottish order of the—’

  ‘Sangrèal knighthood,’ I concluded, which explained Albray’s claim to be a Scot, despite his dark colouring and lack of an accent. ‘But his mother?’

  ‘She was a priestess of our sister order and a princess of Isis, who was given to the visiting Lord de Vere for a short time in order to produce a prince of the blood.’ Akbar did not hesitate to give me an answer, though he was obviously stunned by how much I knew.

  I recalled reading that some of the secret knighthoods in the Holy Land had had secret dealings with the local assassins—even been trained by them—despite disagreements over who should protect valuable ancient relics. Perhaps breeding super-beings had been part of the equation?

  ‘This prince was known among the Sion order as Albray Devere,’ Akbar continued. ‘To we Melchi, he was Albe-Ra, the Shining One. He died trapping the beast, Molier, in the mountain. He was defending a daughter of the blood with whom he had fallen in love—’

  ‘Lillet du Lac.’ I smiled as I beat Akbar to the punchline. I was deeply moved to finally discover something of my dream lover’s illustrious history. No wonder Albray had not wished to speak about his past—how could he without sounding like he was blowing his own trumpet…or lying through his teeth.

  ‘You are well informed for a woman of the west.’ Akbar probably didn’t mean to sound condescending.

  ‘I study.’ I shrugged, not wishing to stray from my pursuit of answers. ‘During the incident of which you speak, involving Lillet, Molier reportedly claimed he alone possessed knowledge regarding activation of the Ark. He alleged he would not perish as had other men before him. Do you know what knowledge he referred to?’

  ‘Maybe he knows about the breastplate,’ Akbar mused.

  ‘Breastplate?’ I pushed for more information.

  ‘Of the daughters of Isis,’ my Arab friend prompted, but when I indicated my ignorance, he enlightened me. ‘The story of the Lady del Aquae tells that when the two vials were positioned in the door to the Ark chamber, they produced a breastplate of gold, along with an inscription which stated that the golden plate must be worn when approaching the Ark. The wearer of the breastplate was also warned that shoes must be removed, and feet washed, when the wearer entered the presence of the Ark, “that they die not”.’

  ‘Good to know,’ I commented with a gulp and Akbar nodded in agreement. ‘There always seems to be a loophole for the villain to negotiate when it comes to this saving-the-world business.’

  ‘The gods know that human beings must be granted freedom of choice,’ Akbar explained. ‘The whole process of evolution is redundant if there is no choice, no cause and effect, no lessons to be learned.’

  I forced a smile to concede his point. ‘So what would happen if Molier got his hands on this breastplate?’

  ‘It is written that the power of the Ark is deadly…the men who accompanied the Lady del Aquae into its presence—ignoring the Priestess’ express warning—were reportedly killed by the fire that leapt from the Ark in bolts as thin as threads.’

  ‘Nice.’

  ‘It is also written that if the breastplate is worn by someone of evil intent, or not of the blood,’ Akbar continued, ‘it will give them protection. He, or she, could direct the fury of the gods to be unleashed upon the world. But this is speculation only, as such a circumstance has never come to pass.’

  ‘But do we really know that Molier is evil?’ I asked. ‘True, he stole the Fire vial from the mount and used the sacred substance to sustain himself indefinitely, but that could have been due to normal human survival instincts. He did kill Albray, but in those times any warrior would not have hesitated to do the same to achieve his goals. Has Molier actually done anything that could be considered truly evil?’ On the quiet I reflected that he had also kidnapped the Lady Susan, but he had not harmed her. Most recently, he had stolen my charm, nearly leading me over a cliff in the process. And yet here I was? Did Molier know Akbar was watching out for me? He must have, as he needed me to open the gate and would surely not want me dead at this stage.

  ‘My brotherhood understands that “evil” refers to any displaced or disorganised energy that has come adrift from its normal time zone,’ Akbar informed me. ‘There are cosmic laws which function here on earth in any given period of history. Undesirable and unharmonious force fields are built up by the stressed energies of those who operate outside the wavebands of cosmic law. The soul-mind who attempts to sidestep their own time-zone frequency without divine blessing is electing to run counter to the cosmic order, and abandons temporarily the ways of light and love to pursue the path of chaos. When such an imbalance occurs, the gods send forth a counterbalance of extreme good to combat the misplaced energy or entity and send them back to the matrix. In some instances this counterbalance might be a person with particular skills and knowledge.’ Akbar smiled as he said this, and indicated me. ‘In other instances the counterbalance could assume the form of a tragic event that will trigger a great outpouring of human compassion, or a miraculous occurrence to stimulate inspired thought in the masses.’

  I had to refrain from gulping in fright and longed for Albray to be by my side; I felt stripped of my greatest weapon without Albray. I needed to find myself a ringed stone and fast! Andre would return with the shipment of white powder today, but with any luck he might arrive late in the day so that the grand opening of the temple would have to wait until the sun was at its zenith tomorrow. That would give me one more day to finish Ashlee’s account, and to find myself a new treasure stone and complete the summons to get my dearest ally to return.

  ‘Molier’s consumption of the Fire-Stone, when he lacks the Gene of Isis to transmute its divine benediction, has driven him quite mad, I believe,’ Akbar said. ‘I can’t claim to know his reasoning or true purpose for wanting to gain access to the Ark. Perhaps he aspires to true
godhood, who knows?’

  According to Lillet’s account, the moment Molier had swallowed the Fire-Stone he had felt himself to be a god, so why should he need to pursue it any further? Unless he now fancied keeping the company of the gods in their realm? I was still theorising when we finally reached the mess tent. Even though the sun barely tainted the darkness with the first signs of dawn, our camp chef was up and preparing food.

  ‘In any case, Molier’s intentions are of no concern. We must thwart him,’ Akbar insisted, and again it was a struggle not to appear daunted.

  ‘Then I had better eat up, stock up and get back to my tent,’ I replied, forcing myself to sound enthusiastic. ‘I still have much work to do.’

  I had to admit that I did feel better for having food in my belly; my nerves had settled down. My date with destiny was fast approaching and being afraid was not going to make it go away.

  Apart from reading the rest of Ashlee’s journal and seeking a new charm, I had also vowed to Lillet to try and find a way to release Albray from his vow to the Elohim Council of Hathor.

  ‘Now don’t stress out,’ I cautioned myself, despite the workload that had suddenly piled up. ‘I can do this. I just need to tackle one challenge at a time. Ashlee…’ I decided to get the journal out of the way—with a little luck, that would leave me the rest of the day to complete my other objectives.

  I pulled the large journal from my bag and placed it on the desk before me. I found my place and began to read. FROM THE HONEYMOON JOURNAL OF LADY SUSAN DEVERE

  I insisted on waiting for Ashlee on the dock at Ostia—I would not go anywhere without first warning her of my concerns about Molier. I suspected that he, too, was a powerful psychic, and that when he had abducted and imprisoned me he had probed my mind for information about my dear sister-in-law. I personally had found his presence very unnerving and, whatever his intention toward Ashlee, I knew deep in my gut that his purpose was malign.