Council of Peacocks

by M Joseph Murphy

  He stared up into her eyes as her face grew redder and redder. She was choking. The look in her eyes was definitely not fear for her life. Now there was only rage in her expression.

  “Josh, let her down!” Todd was in the doorway behind him. “You’re killing her.”

  Josh did not take his eyes away from her to acknowledge Todd. “I can still hear her screaming. The bullet nearly tore her arm off. And the way my father howled. We thought she was going to die.”

  “Josh, I won’t warn you again!”

  Josh flexed his shoulder muscles, his fingers digging a little deeper into Elaine’s neck. Then there was a sharp pain in his chest followed by a blow to his nose. He dropped Elaine, his head swimming in bursts of heat. Before he could shake the pain away, something slammed into his head and he fell into a dark place.

  ***

  “What the hell was that about?” Elaine rubbed at her neck. “Give me a reason why I’m not putting a bullet in his head.”

  If he were anyone except one of Wisdom’s prized Anomalies, she would have. She was also furious with herself. She should have moved faster. No matter that the kid had somehow prevented her gun from working; it was no excuse for almost getting herself killed. Breaking out of a hold like that should have been second nature to her. What had stopped her from acting? Maybe this Josh was able to affect humans the same way he did the gun.

  “You shot his mother.” Jessica stepped past Todd and came into the room. She knelt down beside Josh’s unconscious body and put a hand to the wound. Elaine had rammed the butt of her submachine gun into his skull. If she was lucky, the kid would have permanent brain damage; but she doubted it. Anomalies were pretty quick healers.

  “What are you talking about? I don’t even know the kid’s mother.”

  Jessica brought her hands back. The fingertips were covered with blood. “I saw it. It was in Lebanon a few years ago. You were on the roof of this building. Your hair was a bit longer and a little blonder but it was you. I’m sure of it. You shot a rifle of some sort through a window into a hotel room.”

  “Oh.” Elaine swallowed and kept rubbing her throat. She would have trouble eating for weeks now. “That’s unexpected. It’s also need-to-know.”

  “Enough with the X-Files cloak and dagger crap.” Todd grabbed Elaine’s arm and spun her around. “We’ve all had enough of this ‘it’s classified’ crap. What do you know about this guy? Why did you try to kill his mother?”

  Elaine pulled her arm free. “You don’t get to tell me when things are no longer classified. Only Wisdom can do that. I can tell you it was about five years ago, just before Wisdom started gathering most of you.”

  “I remember that trip to Lebanon,” Garnet said from the doorway. “I’d been with Wisdom for about six months. You were supposed to kill the father, right?”

  “Zip it, Garnet.” Elaine’s hand slipped to her gun.

  “I don’t think so,” Garnet replied. “Todd, help me bring Josh back into the living room. Maybe you and Jessica can do your little healing trick on him and bring him around. I think it’s time to put together some of the pieces of this puzzle.”

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Technically, Wisdom was dead. He was just too pissed off to let his body realize it. Rage was his life-support machine; it forced his lungs to breathe, his heart to beat and his organs to heal. Like a sentient hologram, each particle of his body held the blueprint for the whole of his being. His willpower crafted tendons and tissue seemingly out of nothing. A mortal would have bled to death. Wisdom simply grew new blood from the heat and subtle, elemental fire that hung in the air around him. As his body fought to regenerate, his mind traveled back through his history and remembered.

  ***

  “Don’t fidget, dear,” his mother said. “Little gentleman do not fidget.”

  “Who says I want to be a gentleman? I’m just a boy.” He was six years old, walking through the candlelit corridors of a pyramid in Egypt. His dad, an Atlantean statesman, was part of a global initiative to construct a weather machine. They hoped to install crystalline devices in various structures around the world which would communicate through the magnetic fields of the planet. It would allow them to temper the massive hurricanes and tidal waves that had buffeted coastal regions of the world for the last ten years. Eventually, it would be controlled by a station in the foothills outside of Poseidus. Egypt was one of the primary focal points of the magnetic sub-web. According to the experts, one of the devices needed to be installed here. His father was solidifying the deal.

  “All the same, stop fidgeting.” His mother ruffled his hair and smiled. Her face was blurred by the spanning eons but her warmth rushed back to him easily. Her skin was a dark, rich blue, the color of the ocean at night. She was dressed in the style currently popular in the cities of Atlantis: a one-piece pleated dress that hung below the ankles with a plunging neckline barely concealing her breasts. The only jewelry she wore was a commitment necklace: a living crystal choker that pulsed with energy. Because she loved his father, it glowed a healthy green with freckles of comforting red.

  Just outside the door to council chamber, his dad talked with three Egyptians. A native of the north of Atlantis, his father had pale skin with a slightly yellow tinge reminiscent of the surface of the moon. He was dressed, like the Egyptians, in a simple robe that covered his torso and legs but left his arms bare. With a cursory movement over his shoulder, his father waved goodbye and walked into a brightly lit chamber filled with priests. Wisdom would never see him again.

  “Is this going to take long?” He pouted and stared at the floor. “This place is boring.”

  His mother smiled. “It won’t take too long. I promise.”

  “Yeah. You said that last time.”

  “Such a cute little gentleman you are.” She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “Why don’t you wait over there in that little room? As soon as we’re finished here I’ll fly you home for supper. Anything you want. Okay?”

  Begrudgingly, he smiled and watched her walk into the priests’ chamber.

  He waited.

  His mother didn’t return for hours but that wasn’t unusual. The project was important and she believed he was safe. Egypt was nearly as civilized as Atlantis and he was surrounded by the priests and acolytes that ruled the country. But he got bored, as children will. At first, it was only his eyes that wandered. Then it was his feet.

  He left the cul-de-sac and walked toward the chamber where his parents conducted their meeting. There were at least fifty people in the room. Judging by skin color alone, most were Egyptians but there were several other Atlanteans. In one corner sat three Edimmu in thick cloaks made of vulture feathers. One of them looked over and saw him standing in the doorway. She smiled; an old female with graying scales and deep eyes. Wisdom waved and smiled back. Back home in Poseidus, many of his teachers were Edimmu.

  He listened to the speeches for a moment but they made him sleepy. All that talk about Ice Ages and solar storms. Adults can be so boring. Not far from the chamber was a thin hallway. The walls rose high above him giving the impression of a chasm between two cliffs. No child could resist investigating it.

  The hallway ended in a small octagonal room. The ceiling was far above him, hidden in darkness. The only light came from small luminescent globes similar to the technology back home. A palpable hush hung over the area. Golden statues ringed the perimeter, some holding light globes, others holding weapons. One held what looked like a still-beating baboon heart. At the time, Wisdom did not recognize what the monstrosity was; he only recognized the fear it instilled in him. Against the eastern wall was an altar crafted from cold, bleak stone gilded with sections of gold and emeralds. But the thing that held him, the thing that he could not look away from was the diamond suspended in midair.

  As a child of Atlantis, he’d seen the marvels of technology: the fences of solid light that protected cities from rampaging dinosaurs, silver disks mounted on walls that relay
ed pictures from around the world, airships called Pharocai in which they’d flown from Poseidus to the pyramids. Yet looking at the jewel suspended in space, he knew it wasn’t science that held it in place. Even then he could feel the dark mystery of different forces and he knew it by name.

  Magic.

  “What are you doing down here?” He felt a hand on his shoulder. His mother’s warmth and scent flowed over him but he could not turn away. “Little gentlemen don’t snoop. Come away.”

  But he could not move. He had to touch the gem – this thing suspended by forces he could not yet understand but which sang in his bones. His mother’s hands pulled him out of the room but he slid from her grasp and ran for the diamond. She cried out in warning but it was too late. He reached out and clutched the diamond in his hands.

  Initially, he only felt the weight of it. It was twice the size of his childhood fist but seemed to have the weight of an entire planet within it. He marveled at how he could keep something so heavy in his hands. Then he noticed a sound. A hum. At first a hum, then a beating, like a slow heart. He turned to share the joy he’d discovered with his mother.

  Then he saw the Djinn.

  ***

  The diamond was a Calling Stone, similar to the one King Solomon would use centuries later to command an army of Djinn. This one only summoned one being: the creature he would learn to call father. His mother screamed for hours as the Djinn raped her. He set her body on fire but she did not die. The Djinn regenerated the parts of her body consumed by flame. Broken and paralyzed, she watched as her child was stolen and taken back through the diamond. They travelled through the jewel to the Kaz, the city at the edge of an emerald mountain range in the world of Djinnistan.

  For four thousand years (give or take a decade), he lived in the Kaz. He grew to maturity a slave of the creature who had abducted him. The Djinn taught him just enough magic to survive the fiery environment of the elemental plane. On Earth, all matter is a combination of five basic elements – earth, air, fire, water and divine spirit – but in the Kaz everything solid was fire and spirit. As he learned to filter out oxygen from the toxic air, his body evolved into something that was no longer flesh and blood. His skin turned from blue to black. Once he reached 30, the Djinn stopped his body from aging. Although he would never be a true Djinn, he was something close.

  As a slave, he wasn’t allowed friends, nor could he find a mate and raise a family. The only relationship he had was with his father. Then, twenty years or so before he finally escaped, he stumbled upon another room he was not supposed to see. Unlike the chamber in Egypt, this room was not one of ceremony. It was a vault.

  While scrubbing the floor in the foyer of his father’s villa, his eyes strayed to the cascading molten stream that fell from the ceiling down a carefully crafted path to a lava pond. Sulfurous fumes rose from the sizable pond and small fish-like creatures swam through the lava. It was a pretty thing - a conversation piece for the Djinn’s many visitors. It was the sort of thing you only really saw the first time; after that it blended into the background like a painting or plush carpet. Something on this day made him look at it with fresh eyes. His jaw dropped.

  After thousands of years submersed in subtle fiery air, eating the flesh of animals suffused with magic and the taste of flame, he saw a new level to it. On the other side of the molten stream was a door. He stood up from where he knelt on the floor, dropped his scrub brush and moved to the edge of the pool. Yes, there was definitely a doorway there. The more he stared at it, the clearer it became. His eyes could see the tendrils of magic wrapped around the edge of the door, effectively locking it. The weave was complicated, far from anything his limited skills could open.

  At least at first.

  For months he studied the door while going through the motions of cleaning. Then, when he knew he had the skill to open the door, he waited until the Djinn had left for the Senate to conduct his affairs. Then he made his move. He waded through the lava pool, a feat that would have disintegrated a human in seconds. Bit by bit, he unfurled the magic tendrils from the door.

  The room was filled with treasures from Earth: piles of gold coins and chalices, tubs and bowls of gems and bits of technology from Atlantis. There were a dozen swords, a few shields and suit of armor built of a material that he couldn’t identify. The air was different in the vault, too. He breathed it in deeply and realized there was more to it than fire. There was water and earth in this air: the same atmosphere as on Earth. Breathing it in, he felt a strength return to him. Strength and anger.

  He did not spend long in the room that first time, but he returned at every available moment. He never thought of stealing anything. What would he do with gold? It was worthless amongst the Djinn and, if he was caught with it, there would be no doubt of its source. He did not go to take. He went to look.

  After a year or so of looking, he started to see something else in the room. In the presence of other elements, his mind saw more than one layer of reality. Thus, he slowly began to see the Akashic Realm. Engraved in this higher level of reality was every moment of history, every thought, and every experience in creation. Mystics call this engraving the Akashic Records. He saw what happened to his mother, where he really was now, and what had happened to his home world since he had left it. He saw the destruction of Atlantis and the second Stone Age of Earth. He watched the enslavement of the Edimmu and the rise of the Orpheans.

  Over twenty years, he learned what it meant to be human. The more of it he saw, the more determined he was to be free again. Wisdom decided to do more than watch. The Akashic Records revealed that escape from Djinnistan was only possible through refractory surfaces – like gems. He studied and practiced for months until, one day, he succeeded.

  ***

  The Djinn was at the Senate, brokering a trade treaty with the Marid, creatures from a water elemental plane, when Wisdom made his move. Inside the vault was an emerald brooch in the shape of a scarab. It was small enough to fit easily in his palm, but it was large enough to create a portal. He could not escape alone. He needed someone from Earth to ground him. So he focused his desire through the gem and found his benefactor in a young princess from China.

  She lived in a walled city surrounded by guards and servants. Her father was away fighting some battle on the outskirts of his territory. She was a lonely child admiring a bevy of gifts from men who wanted her hand in marriage. One of those gifts was an emerald brooch – not the same style as the one Wisdom held in his hands, but close enough. He poured out lust through the gem and the princess responded. She lusted back. All it took then was a brief touch, her hand grazing the emerald, and Wisdom was free.

  His body fell through cracks between dimensions. His flesh was ripped apart and reconstructed repeatedly. He landed on carpet as the princess screamed in shock.

  “Nothing to fear from me.” He smiled up at her. Though he did not speak Chinese, it was evident in her eyes that she understood what he had said. It was an element of his magic he would use for the rest of his life. Wisdom knew how to speak to everyone. He pushed himself to his feet. Then it was his turn to scream.

  Rich oxygen hit his body, mingled with the elemental fire in his body. He burst into flame. A true Djinn could control the combustion, but he’d never learned how to temper the burn. The fire spread over his body but did not consume his flesh. Carpet and ceiling burst into flames. The princess tried to run, but the inferno snatched her. The fatty parts of her body melted like butter, muscles and bones charred beyond recognition. Two servants rushed into the room, drawn by the screams. When they saw the flames, they ran away just as quickly.

  As the princess’s room burned around him, pain overwhelmed all other sensations. Time hung still as he burned for three hours. Then, fear grew more powerful than pain. He felt a shimmering on the Akashic plane.

  His father was near.

  “Have to make a move,” he whispered. If he did not gain control of the fire, his father would drag him back to the Kaz
. He focused on the elemental water in the air and, slowly at first, stopped his skin from burning. He opened his eyes to the blackened destruction and flames around him. The scarab had not made the journey with him. It was, presumably, still back in his father’s vault.

  Something glistened in the light of an unseen sun, a sparkle of green. Wisdom walked past the burnt corpse of the princess and bent down. He picked up her emerald broach and held it up to his eye. Looking through the emerald he saw a set of eyes – not his own, but those of the Djinn.

  “Run all you want,” his father said. “When I want you, I’ll find you.”

  He threw the emerald into the flames and ran as quickly as he could. On the outskirts of the walled city he saw it again: the emerald broach lay at his feet. Once again, he picked it up and threw it as far as he could. For two days, he walked toward a nearby mountain range. Everywhere he looked, there was the emerald broach. On the other side of the mountain range was a city. He slipped into an empty room at a local inn. There, waiting for him on the bed, was the emerald. No matter where he went for the next year, the emerald was there before him.

  Eventually he stopped running from it. He picked it up and kept it with his possessions. There was no escaping his father.

  At least not at the time.

  ***

  Sometimes the Djinn tried to talk to him through the emerald but Wisdom never spoke back. He could think of no rational reason why he wasn’t coming after him. If the Djinn knew where he was, why had he not come to reclaim his slave? After a century, he decided there was no rational reason because his father was not rational. He was an elemental creature, a force of will and fire that no human could ever understand.

  After meeting Echo, Wisdom changed. There was something about her. Something remarkably human. She refused to submit to him, no matter what he did to her. Her obstinace reawakened his own desire to be free of the Calling Stone. He spent several centuries traveling the world to meet with magicians and shamans, anyone who claimed to know anything about magic. From some he learned little tricks. From most, he learned nothing at all. Most of the magic he knew now he had learned in the Kaz. It wasn’t until the trip to Africa with Echo and Propates that he made any real progress.