Iona Portal (The Synaxis Chronicles)

by Robert David MacNeil

  Erin looked at him and their eyes met for a long moment. She suddenly realized that Araton was the only person in the world she really trusted. He was watching over her and seemed to genuinely care what happened to her. Though he wasn’t even human, she felt protected, and totally secure in his presence. That was something she had not felt for many years.

  It may have been the wine, be she couldn’t stop herself from asking the question that came to her mind. “Araton... We both know my marriage is a sham. I have no one. I’m totally alone. You’re the only person in the world I trust right now. Please forgive me for asking, but… is there any possibility of … a relationship between us?”

  “I’m sorry Erin,” he said firmly, “but that would violate our strictest rules. Many years ago, a group of renegade Irin who called themselves the Grigori, entered your world and took human wives, but the results were disastrous. I’ll tell you the story sometime, but for now, just know that it’s not possible for us to be together.

  “But I can tell you this.” He continued, looking intently into her eyes. “Your destiny does not lie with Rex Vanderberg. There will be another man in your life, a companion you’ll fully trust and deeply love. The two of you are destined to be together for many years. Be patient. It won’t be long before your paths cross.”

  Erin paused for what seemed like an eternity, looking at Araton and fighting back tears. Finally, in desperation she said, “Araton, you said I’d receive a phone call… that there’d be a group of people, others to help… When will that happen?”

  “Soon, Erin…” He said gently, “Very soon.”

  PART THREE: SYNAXIS

  Chapter Ten: Piper and Holmes

  THE LAKE HOUSE – IN THE PINEY WOODS OF EAST TEXAS

  Holmes guided his Mercedes CLS550 Coupe onto the Interstate 635 exit ramp. The Friday-afternoon Dallas rush hour had been a parking lot, but they were now clear of the congestion. Gently depressing the gas pedal, he accelerated smoothly onto Interstate 30, headed toward the Piney Woods of East Texas.

  Derek Holmes was a clinical psychologist in private practice with an office in the city of Frisco on the northern edge of the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. Tall and ruggedly handsome, Holmes had a perpetual five o’clock shadow and piercing green eyes with black hair tousled casually. He had always been athletic, and at 41, worked out an hour a day to stay in shape.

  Beside him in the passenger seat was Ginny Ann Piper. Called Piper by most of her friends, she was 36 and attractive with an infectious smile and sandy-blonde hair worn in a casual style.

  Piper was a psychologist also, with an office a few doors down from Holmes’. The two had been in a relationship for more than two years, and often weekended together at his house on Cedar Hills Lake.

  Their relationship had never really been about passion, although that was certainly part of the picture. The real focus was companionship. Piper and Holmes had both burned out on one-night-stands and shallow relationships in their twenties, and both had been several years without “someone special” in their lives. To put it frankly, they were lonely. Their relationship had begun slowly, meeting for lunch, or for happy hour at T.G.I. Friday’s after work… but over the course of several months it gradually deepened.

  They found they enjoyed being together. They could talk for hours and never run out of things to say, or sit contentedly side-by-side, never saying a word. Sometimes when they walked, they found themselves holding hands like love-struck teenagers. The relationship had surprised them both, and both wondered if marriage was in their future.

  Holmes had always looked forward to their weekends at the lake house, but he wasn’t looking forward to this one. In fact, he had dreaded this day for months. He knew he had to tell Piper what was happening and wasn’t sure how she’d respond.

  He wasn’t honestly sure what he thought about it himself. He’d dealt with unbalanced people most of his adult life, but now found himself wondering if he had become one.

  The trip to the lake house was uneventful, though much quieter than usual. Holmes had been acting strangely for months. Piper knew he was struggling with something and was determined this would be the weekend he opened up.

  The lake house was an ideal getaway for two busy professionals. Far enough from the city to feel truly isolated, it was a place they could leave their pressures and responsibilities behind and actually relax.

  The main feature of the house was a large “great room” with an eighteen-foot knotty-pine cathedral ceiling and a wall of windows offering a full 180-degree view of the lake. On pleasant evenings, they enjoyed reclining side-by-side on the broad wrap-around deck, watching the sun set across the peaceful waters of the lake. On cool evenings they’d snuggle up on the couch in front of a crackling fire. But this was not a weekend to relax. They both knew this was a time for honesty.

  Arriving at the house, they stowed their things in the bedroom and Holmes poured them each a glass of their favorite pinot noir. They took seats on the couch facing the large plate-glass windows where the last remnants of a spectacular sunset were still visible across the lake.

  They sat for a few moments in uncomfortable silence, sipping their wine and watching the sunset—unsure how to begin. Finally, Piper finished her wine, put down her glass and turned to Holmes. “It’s time we had a talk... ” She began, her voice tinged with both distress and determination.

  “You’ve been acting strangely the last few months, Holmes. Something’s up and I think I have a right to know what’s going on.”

  “You know me pretty well.” Holmes responded, meeting her gaze. “There is something I need to tell you tonight.”

  He glanced down nervously, as though checking his watch, then back to Piper. “I’m involved in something, Ginny…” Holmes used Ginny and Piper interchangeably, but tended toward Ginny when things were getting serious. “I’ve wanted to tell you about it for months, but it’s not easy to talk about. When I tell you, you’re going to think I’ve gone off the deep end. In all honesty, I sometimes wonder if I have also.”

  “What is it?” Piper asked, her tone softening.

  “A few months ago something very strange happened … and since then I’ve had a number of unusual encounters.”

  “You’re not having sex with a patient?”

  “No, it’s nothing like that,” he assured her. “It’s something…different… Something totally removed from what we normally think of as reality.”

  Piper smiled broadly, “Holmes, are you trying to tell me you’ve got religion?”

  “I wish it was that simple.” He answered uneasily. “No, this is … I’m trying to find the right words and I can’t think of any that don’t sound totally insane. So, I’ll just say it…”

  Holmes took a deep breath, looked directly into her eyes, and said, “Ginny… I’m in contact with aliens!”

  Piper stiffened and stared at him angrily. “Holmes, that’s NOT funny! If this is your idea of a joke…”

  “If there was any better way of saying it…” he interrupted, fumbling for words. “…but it’s real, and it’s important. And it affects you too. And dammit, you need to know. … and you do need to believe me.”

  “So, let me see if I’ve got this right…” she taunted, still assuming it was a joke. “You’re being abducted nightly by little green men … and you want me to run away with you to the planet Vulcan.”

  “No, they aren’t aliens from another planet,” he protested. “They’re aliens from a different dimension. And they’ve been visiting me almost every week.”

  “Holmes… do you realize how crazy this sounds?”

  “Yes… I know it sounds crazy, but either someone’s pulling the most elaborate practical joke in history or I’m involved in something straight out of the X-Files.”

  “You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “And you expect me to believe you?”

  “No, I don’t… not yet. But I think I
can convince you.”

  Piper looked indignant, “I’m listening.”

  Holmes glanced down, checking his watch again, then began. “Last December, while you were in Minnesota visiting your mom, I came to the lake house for the weekend to catch up on some reading. That’s when I met them.

  “They didn’t come to the door; they were just… here... two of them, a male and a female. Since then there have been several others.

  “I was sitting here, laptop open, about eight o’clock at night, when I heard a noise and looked up. The aliens were standing right there, in front of the window. They looked fairly human, but with some obvious differences.

  “After a brief exchange, they explained their reason for coming. They said our world is facing imminent disaster, and they need our help to mount a defense.”

  Piper’s patience was wearing thin. “Why don’t these aliens contact the government … or the military?”

  “That’s not how they operate,” Holmes shot back. “And the military doesn’t have anything that would be useful against the kind of force they’re dealing with. But we do.

  “The aliens have been watching us, Piper. They chose us—both of us—because we have special abilities they need. They said if we work with them, we can save the human race from terrible devastation.”

  As Holmes spoke, warning flares were exploding in Piper’s mind. His story sounded all too familiar. In her practice, Piper was accustomed to hearing patients tell bizarre tales… It’s a hazard of the profession for a clinical psychologist.

  Just last week a used-car salesman had confided—in all seriousness—that he was receiving coded messages from outer space on his car radio. Two weeks earlier there was an overweight, middle-aged schoolteacher, paralyzed by fear that the CIA was tapping her phone. Then there was the elderly man, distraught because he was certain his equally elderly wife was having an affair with Brad Pitt. Over the years Piper had trained herself to listen to these delusions calmly, without showing surprise.

  But she wasn’t prepared to hear it from Holmes. Holmes had always been rock-solid, dependable. Her relationship with Holmes had brought a sense of stability to her life she’d never known. The thought that he’d somehow gone off the deep end was almost more than she could bear.

  As he continued speaking, she felt panic rising within her. Every word he spoke was leading her closer to a diagnosis she couldn’t let herself admit. Finally it was too much…

  “That’s enough!” She snapped—almost in tears—cutting him off.

  “But Ginny…”

  “Not another word!” She blurted angrily, then studied him for a moment in obvious anguish, biting her lip.

  “Please.” she pleaded, her tone softening. “I can’t listen to any more of this.”

  Piper turned away, unable to face him. As she stared at the fading sunset reflecting on the peaceful waters of the lake, she remembered a phrase she’d learned in grad school: The neurotic builds dream castles in the air… the psychotic moves in. Everything Holmes had said told her that he had “moved in.” He had totally embraced his delusion.

  Her mind raced, frantically trying to think of another explanation, but she couldn’t escape the inevitable: Holmes has suffered some kind of psychotic break… he’s lost contact with reality. She was fighting back tears now. This can’t be happening.

  She turned and looked pleadingly into his eyes. “Please tell me this is all a joke.”

  “I wish I could, Ginny, but it’s not.” He answered. “This is real.”

  Tears were now trickling down her cheeks. “Holmes, you’re my closest friend, my soul-mate. I… love you,” she stammered. “Why are you doing this?”

  Holmes glanced at his watch one more time, then back to Piper. “I know that nothing I can say will convince you. But the aliens believe the time has come to meet you in person. In fact, one of them is coming here now.”

  “WHAT!” Piper almost screamed.

  Before Holmes could reply, a flash of brilliant light filled the room. There was a sound like distant thunder and a change in the atmosphere that made her ears pop. (Holmes had suggested a dramatic entrance might be most effective.)

  As the flash faded, Piper saw a beautiful young woman standing in front of her. She appeared to be in her early twenties, slender, with shoulder-length, dark brown hair and haunting silver-grey eyes. She was dressed in a flowing knee-length dress of an incredibly light material Piper couldn’t identify. But Piper barely noticed any of those details. What captured Piper’s attention were the wings. For arching gracefully above the young woman’s shoulders were two beautiful, living, white feathered wings.

  “Piper,” Holmes said calmly. “I’d like you to meet Eliel. She’s an alien.”

  At that moment, Piper did something she had never done in her life. She fainted.

  ***

  ISLE OF IONA, ARGYLL, SCOTLAND

  Why am I here? Patrick asked himself as he stretched out on the soft heather between the giant upright slabs of stone. At this point he was willing to admit, at least to himself, that angels, or whatever they were, had planted the dream in his mind. They wanted him to be here. The question was, why?

  In some ways Patrick felt like Roy Neary, Richard Dreyfuss’ character in the old Close Encounters movie. In the movie, Neary had responded to a picture the aliens planted in his mind and followed the vision all the way to Devil’s Tower, Wyoming, not knowing why he was going. But when he finally reached the Devil’s Tower, an alien “mother ship” landed and took him away.

  Only in Patrick’s case, he’d made it to his destination, but apart from gorgeous scenery, nothing was here. No aliens. No mother ship. Not even any angels.

  He had to admit the place was beautiful. He felt relaxed for the first time in recent memory. The turmoil and frustration of the divorce was finally beginning to fade. It was incredibly healing.

  But what was he supposed to do here? Where was he supposed to go next?

  In the days following his discovery of the Hill, Patrick explored every part of the island. He toured the museum and gift shops. He found the local pub and discovered to his delight that it carried Velvet also. He toured the medieval abbey and other historic sites but never felt a supernatural presence.

  In all of his exploration of the island, he didn’t see one angel. And apart from breakfast, he rarely saw Michael. Michael sat in his room before the open window, laptop on the desk, furiously pouring out the words of his latest book.

  As days passed, Patrick fell into a routine. In the mornings he would hike, revisiting his favorite parts of the Island. Near the southern tip of Iona he found an old marble quarry and the bay where Columba first set foot on Iona. On the western shore was a rock formation he dubbed the blowhole, where incoming waves churned through narrow channels until they exploded skyward in a dramatic imitation of “old faithful.” On a particularly clear morning he climbed Dun I, the highest point on the island. From that vantage point, he could see Ben More, the highest mountain on Mull, far to the east. In the shadow of Dun I, Patrick found a small ring of standing stones not mentioned on the tourist map.

  Following his morning explorations, Patrick would grab a light lunch at the pub and a brief nap at the Saint Columba Hotel.

  In the evenings he always retreated to the Hill. On clear nights he’d bring a blanket from the hotel and stretch out on the soft heather between the stone slabs, watching the stars wheel past in their slow, nightly pilgrimage.

  As days went by, he felt he was absorbing the island. It was penetrating his body with a sense of peace and contentment he had never known.

  But always in the background was the question… what next? Surely the angels had not lured him here for scenic hikes and relaxing naps. Sooner or later, Patrick reasoned, they would contact him.

  And Patrick was determined to stay on Iona until they did. In reality, he had no place else to go.

  Chapter Eleven: Revelations

  THE LAKE HOUSE – IN THE PINEY WOODS
OF EAST TEXAS

  After the initial shock, Piper seemed to adjust to the idea of aliens with incredible ease. When she “came to,” Holmes was seated by her side. Eliel had pulled up a chair and was seated opposite them about a foot away.

  Piper stared at Eliel for several minutes.

  Her first comment was, “Where are your… wings? Didn’t you just have wings?”

  Eliel smiled, a gentle smile that lit up the room. “Yes, they’re still here. But when we visit your world we usually fold them back into a dimension you can’t see. We find it’s less distracting for humans.” As if to demonstrate, two large shining wings appeared out of nowhere, and then folded back into an unseen realm.

  The sight of the wings made Piper feel woozy again. She leaned up against Holmes for security. “So you really are an alien? I mean, you’re … you’re NOT a human being?”

  Eliel shrugged and smiled playfully. “Do you want to see the wings again?”

  “Point taken. Okay… so you’re not a human… but at least you’ve got a sense of humor.”

  The exchange lightened the atmosphere a little, but it was clear neither was sure what to say next.

  “How about a drink?” Holmes offered.

  “Yes, I could use one.” Piper gasped. “Something strong. How about a scotch and soda, light on the soda.”

  “And for you?” Holmes nodded to Eliel.

  “Thanks, I’d love a beer… or better yet, do you have Guinness?” She glanced at Piper, “I developed a taste for Guinness a few years ago in Ireland.”

  “Guinness it is,” Holmes replied, “I knew it was your favorite, so I stocked up for the weekend.”

  Piper sat with her mouth open in amazement for a moment, then caught herself and tried to regain her composure. “I’m sorry, Eliel. I hope you realize this is a bit much for me. I just never thought I’d be sitting around drinking with an alien.”