Scenting Hallowed Blood

by Storm Constantine

  After Emma left High Crag, Aninka went straight to Enniel and informed him of what Daniel was doing. To her intense gratification, Enniel was furious. ‘That boy is a liability!’ he raged. ‘What in Hell is he playing at? Tonight, Shemyaza will return, and his vizier is grubbing around with a coven of old hags! No doubt he’s betraying Grigori secrets too. Wait till I get my hands on him!’

  Aninka watched from the front porch as Enniel stormed from the house, jumped into his Range Rover and smoked off towards the village. She considered following, then decided against it. She had a feeling she’d be seeing Emma again soon.

  Emma was still walking back to the village when Enniel’s Range Rover careered past her. She recognised the vehicle and guessed immediately what had happened. ‘Damn!’ she said aloud and began to run down the hill.

  By the time Enniel reached Meggie’s cottage, the whole village was aware that trouble was afoot. Not everyone who lived there knew what the owners of High Crag were, but those who did soon found out that Enniel Prussoe had come tearing through, in an obviously enraged emotional state, demanding where Meggie Penhaligon’s house was. No-one, not even the ignorant, would have dared to respond to his questions with surly silence and dark looks. Enniel, in his fury, was a terrifying sight; an avenging angel who might have stepped from the frame of an apocalyptic painting.

  ‘I don’t think he’s going to Meggie’s to buy a corn dolly,’ remarked a woman to her friend as Enniel’s Range Rover roared away from them.

  Tom Penhaligon answered Enniel’s wild hammering on the front door. Enniel appraised him coldly and demanded to speak with the ‘old woman’.

  Tom was unnerved by the tall stranger and felt he should get rid of him quickly. ‘There’s no-one here,’ he said.

  ‘Don’t waste my time!’ Enniel spat. ‘Fetch the old witch now or suffer the consequences.’

  Meggie, who was in the kitchen, heard raised voices and ventured into the hall. She recognised Enniel as Grigori immediately, and for a moment, leaned back in shock against the kitchen doorframe. Then, she mustered her courage and surged forward. ‘What is it, Tom?’

  Tom glanced round at her with a mixture of relief and alarm. ‘Someone to see you, Mam’ he said. ‘Someone with no manners.’

  Meggie came to the door, purpose emanating from her large frame, and Enniel took a step back. She was not going to let this creature step over her threshold. ‘What do you want?’ she asked.

  ‘I want the boy,’ Enniel said. ‘Don’t bother denying you have him.’

  Meggie folded her arms, although she was not as calm as she appeared. ‘If you mean Daniel, he’s happy enough here. Leave us be.’

  Enniel uttered a snort of contemptuous laughter. ‘Look, old woman. I don’t know what you think you’re doing, but you’re dabbling in matters that are far beyond you. If you’ve any sense you’ll back off.’

  ‘I don’t like threats,’ said Meggie bluntly.

  ‘You really have no idea, do you! You dare to speak to me like that? Don’t you realise what I could do to you?’ Enniel’s lips peeled back into a sneer. ‘You’re just a grubby beach witch! What is it you’re after? Youth for your decaying body?’

  Meggie, who was used to being treated with respect by all around her, objected strongly to Enniel’s manner. Once her anger was roused, he became simply an obnoxious male, who must be put in his place. ‘Your kind will be destroyed!’ she shouted, pointing an omenic finger at him. ‘You are filth and corruption! The Shining One is not for your greedy hands! Get from my garden! Crawl back to your stinking nest of dung-eating serpents!’

  Enniel was clearly astounded by her belligerence, for he was silenced for a moment. Then he smiled. ‘So, you want to take me on, do you, hag? Very well. Step out here, match my power if you can.’

  How this confrontation would have ended, Meggie dared not imagine. She did not want to lock horns with a Grigori patriarch, but once challenged, she could not back down. Her heart was heavy in her breast as she took a step into the front garden. But before any more exchanges could follow, Daniel came running through the house and positioned himself between them. ‘What the hell’s going on?’ he demanded.

  Meggie and Enniel began shouting at once. Daniel raised his arms, and yelled. ‘Enough!’ Light sparked from his eyes. He looked like what he was, a part of Shemyaza.

  Both Enniel and Meggie fell quiet.

  Daniel turned from one to the other. ‘Look at the pair of you! You both want the same thing, yet you fight like selfish children!’ He pointed at Enniel. ‘You! The serpent power is not just for Grigori, but for humans too.’ He turned on Meggie. ‘And you! You despise the Grigori, yet you should appreciate they are the descendants of Shemyaza.’ He shook his head in exasperation. ‘If anything, the Parzupheim and the Pelleth should be working together. You all want to control the serpent when it wakes, but none of you will. Don’t you understand that only Shem will control it? Why are you screaming at one another? What good will that do? Shem is alone in the underworld, perhaps fighting for his soul and his life. We should be thinking of him now, not ourselves and our greed! Have you no shame?’

  Daniel’s passion subdued both Enniel and Meggie. Enniel sighed and rubbed the back of his neck. ‘Daniel, I was concerned for you. I don’t want you to be used.’

  Daniel uttered a choked laugh. ‘Don’t say that to me. You were happy to use me yourself when you believed I had some use.’

  ‘That devil...’ Meggie began, sensing victory, but Daniel interrupted her.

  ‘Don’t say anything, Megs. I know what you think of me, too. The Parzupheim believe I’m Shemyaza’s toy, and your opinion hardly differs. You think I’m perverted.’

  ‘Daniel, that’s not true!’ Meggie said. ‘Your ways are different but...’

  ‘I don’t want to hear it,’ Daniel said. ‘All I want to hear is for you two to make your peace. You both have work to do tonight, and in my view, both methods are valid and necessary. The Grigori will do what they see fit, as will the Pelleth.’ He glanced at Enniel. ‘You can’t stop humans being drawn to Shemyaza, or wanting to tap his power to work magic. It will always happen. He doesn’t belong to you alone. So you might as well accept it. And the Pelleth must accept that the Grigori have a right to share in the serpent power.’

  ‘And who will you be working with?’ Enniel asked coldly.

  Daniel looked into his eyes. ‘Do you have a place for me in your temple?’

  ‘If you want to...’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘Oh no, don’t even say it! You’re not aware of what I am, are you?’ He thumped his chest with a closed fist. ‘I served King Darius as his vizier at Taketi el Sulamain in Persia, the founder of Masonry and Grigori hierarchy. And before that, I served Shemyaza in Kharsag, and was murdered beside him. I was Grigori once, and I shall be so again. No-one is closer to Shemyaza than I am. I was with him in the beginning and I am with him now, which might be the end. Yet you scorn me and view me with contempt. Your people are no better than humanity, Enniel. It would do you good to live a human life and appreciate that. You’re stuck in the past, all of you! To you, the blood spilled in Eden is still fresh.’ He sighed. ‘Oh, what’s the point? You can’t hear me, can you?’

  Enniel’s voice was soothing. ‘Come back to High Crag, Daniel. Let us make amends.’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘No, it’s too late. I’m not wholly human, but my place tonight is with the people among whom I was born. None of us really know what’s going to happen. We shall just have to live it.’

  Enniel looked at him steadily for a few moments, then said, ‘Very well. But we do need to talk at some stage. Come to High Crag tomorrow. By that time, we should know how the land lies.’

  Daniel nodded wearily. ‘I’ll come.’

  Enniel turned to Meggie. ‘I’m afraid I can’t apologise to you. Daniel might be wiser and more tolerant than I am, but it will take some time for me to accept what he suggests. Still, I realise he spoke the truth in some meas
ure. I can’t stop you performing your own rituals.’

  Meggie slowly shook her head. ‘No, you can’t. But like you, I stand humbled by Daniel’s words. Perhaps in the future, we may speak on this matter again.’

  Enniel nodded curtly, and marched back to his Range Rover. Daniel stood beside Meggie as they watched him drive away. Meggie put her arm around him. ‘Daniel, you shamed me.’

  ‘I didn’t mean to, Megs, but I had to say what I felt.’

  ‘No, you were right to.’ She sighed. ‘Agh! It’ll be hard living in the new world, and will take a lot of compromise. Hope I’m up to it!’

  Daniel smiled at her, his faced slightly puzzled. ‘Of course you are.’

  They went back into the house.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Solstice Night

  In Tamara’s cottage, Shemyaza, Tamara and Delmar prepared themselves for the night to come. The sun had been shining relentlessly all day, making a cauldron of the sea, a cinder of the land, but at dusk, thick clouds rolled across the sky, trapping the heat below. A warm wind chivvied the leafless trees, and the sound of distant thunder could be heard. Whether this deep elemental growling emanated from the sky or beneath the earth was difficult to discern.

  The previous night, Tamara had hauled her sewing machine out of storage from beneath her bed, and had hastily fashioned three simple robes. Obeying instructions from Barbelo, Tamara would be dressed in red for the ceremony to come, Delmar in oceanic green, while Shemyaza would be swathed in white, girdled with rope of golden cord. Now the three of them stood naked in the parlour, with the robes spread out on the sofa. Before they dressed, Tamara anointed Delmar and Shemyaza with a herbal unguent, then applied it to her own skin. She was anxious about the work to come, and was still awaiting a phone call from Barbelo to give her final directions.

  Once dressed, the three of them sat by candlelight in a circle and meditated in silence. Conversation had been stilted between them all day, and now the air vibrated with tension. When the phone rang, Tamara started so violently, she felt as if her bones jumped free of her body. Making sure the parlour door was closed firmly behind her, she hurried into the kitchen to answer the phone.

  As Tamara had anticipated, the caller was Barbelo, although her voice sounded faint, as if she was calling from a long way away. ‘Listen to me, Tamara, for I will give you a song.’

  Tamara pressed the phone against her ear. ‘Yes?’

  A shrill whistle shuddered down the line and pierced Tamara’s ear. She uttered a short scream, and jerked her head away. For a moment, her head rang with the sound. Then it faded away. Gingerly, she replaced the phone to her ear. ‘What was that? It nearly deafened me.’

  ‘But it was your song, my darling!’

  ‘Song? I didn’t hear it!’

  ‘You did, and you will remember it when the time comes. It is the lament for Serapis. This evening, you will sing it to the Lion Guardian.’ The phone clicked, then the dialling tone sounded. Tamara stared at the instrument in astonishment for a few moments. Was that all Barbelo was going to say? Had she been cut off? Puzzled, she went back into the parlour.

  ‘Who was it?’ Shemyaza asked. ‘Is your coven on to us?’

  Tamara shook her head. ‘No. It was my father. I told him I was busy.’ She rubbed her hands together. ‘It is time now. We must leave. Put your coats on.’

  At the threshold to the cottage, Tamara took Shemyaza’s hand in her own. ‘Are you afraid?’ she asked him.

  He shrugged. His expression was that of a beautiful, bewildered boy. ‘I don’t know. I feel numb, as if this isn’t real. Perhaps nothing will happen.’

  Tamara’s heart turned over at the sight of him, but she suppressed her gentler emotions and shook her head. Her voice, when she spoke, was firm. ‘Remember what happened with Michael at the Mount yesterday! You really think nothing will happen?’

  Shemyaza stared at her. ‘I’m still not sure I want to go through with this. The results...’

  Tamara interrupted him. You must do this for me, my love.’

  Shemyaza smiled bleakly and walked past her towards the car.

  Tamara knew that the Pelleth would be safely gathered at the Penhaligon house, and unlikely to be wandering about. She drove with confidence to the cliff top above the Lion’s Head. Delmar had still been having trouble with his parents, and had to continue sneaking out of the house to be with Tamara. Ellen Tremayne was obviously aware her son had been working with Tamara, and was no doubt obeying the injunctions of the Pelleth in trying to prevent him doing so. However, Delmar was a law unto himself, and a slippery creature. It was virtually impossible to imprison him. Now he sat in the back of the car, his strange eyes shifting with mer-light. This was the night when the sea would come to the land, and in the advent of the serpent, the elements would fuse in primal hunger.

  Tamara did not park in one of the coastal lay-bys, but turned up a narrow track, where she could secrete her vehicle beneath a grove of ancient oaks. Tamara watched Shemyaza ease himself gingerly out of the car as if his joints were aching. He looked slightly ridiculous with her father’s old coat slung over his robe. She opened the back door for Delmar.

  ‘We’ll leave the coats here,’ she said. ‘It’s only a short walk to the cliff-top, and it’s not exactly cold tonight, is it.’

  Tamara led the way to the path that led down to the beach. Soon, she thought, the power of the serpent would be hers. Shemyaza, she felt she already owned. Let the Pelleth and the Grigori perform their feeble rituals. She knew, because Barbelo had told her, that everyone believed Shemyaza was already in the underworld. So much for their psychics and scrying pools.

  They walked along the beach in silence. The light around them was green; neither day nor night. Above them, the edges of the clouds seemed tinged with phosphorescence. The sea was restless, churning with flickering lights and quick, dark shapes. Warm, damp breezes blew against their faces; a perfume spray of brine and earth.

  Although Tamara had received no precise instructions for the ritual to come, she trusted that she’d know what to say and do at the right time. They rounded the cove and there was the majestic countenance of the guardian ahead of them, staring out to sea as it had done for millennia. Shemyaza seemed to be in a daze. He stumbled ahead of his companions and halted before the lion. Tamara watched in a kind of ghoulish fascination and anticipation. Shemyaza threw back his head, so that his hair poured down the back of his robe. He seemed to want to look the guardian in the eye, but at that moment the eyes were closed, just suggestions of shapes within the rock.

  Tamara caught up with him, Delmar at her heels. ‘Speak to the guardian, Shem,’ she murmured through the wind.

  ‘I don’t know its name,’ he answered, his voice vague.

  ‘It is Azumi,’ Delmar said.

  Tamara glanced at the boy, knew immediately that the information was correct. ‘Azumi,’ she echoed and positioned herself behind Shemyaza, with Delmar at her left side.

  Shemyaza sighed, then raised his arms. Although she could not see his face, Tamara guessed his eyes were closed. ‘Azumi! Hear me! It is I, Shemyaza. I seek entrance to the lair of the serpent.’

  For a moment, all was still, then came a small tumble of stones. Tamara felt the rock beneath her feet tremble slightly. Before them, the face of the lion became more distinct in the stone. The rock seemed to shift and seethe, until what appeared to be the perfect statue of a gigantic sphinx reared before them. Azumi. The guardian’s eyes opened slowly, and twin fans of red light gouted out. Its jaw cracked ajar, with a sound like an avalanche of gravel. Its voice was the voice of the earth, a thunderous sound of rocks grinding together. Tamara fought an urge to put her hands over her ears, or press her fingers to her temples. The voice reverberated painfully inside her mind.

  ‘Have you come to sing the Lament for Serapis?’

  Shemyaza glanced round at Tamara. ‘Have I?’ he asked.

  Tamara collected herself, nodded and stepped up besi
de him, taking his hand in her own. ‘Say yes, Tell it your priestess will sing the Lament.’

  Shemyaza turned back to the lion. ‘The Lament will be sung. My priestess will sing it.’

  Tamara took a step back and withdrew the serpent talisman from a pocket in her robe. Holding it up before her face, she closed her eyes and focused her whole being upon the carved image and the power that Barbelo had instilled into it. In her mind, she saw a fine glowing haze begin to seep from the distended mouth of each snake, twin coils that twisted together into a single, writhing plume above the talisman. A newly born serpent of moist aether. Slowly, undulating on the air, it drifted like a questing viper towards her parted lips. Unconsciously, she gritted her teeth. When it touched her, the cold vapour prised her jaws apart, and began to probe the soft tissues of her mouth. creeping over her tongue and down her throat. Tamara had to fight the urge to retch, reminding herself this was merely a visualisation. The serpent breath filled her chest with a numbing cold; it felt as if a great reptile had curled itself around her lungs. And something moved there. A life of sorts.

  Her jaw dropped open.

  A tiny sound was building up within her throat, forcing its way upwards, out of her mouth. Gradually it rose in pitch, until the air around her seemed to vibrate. Then, the note changed key of its own volition; Tamara had no physical control over it. The keening flirted briefly with a lower tone, before soaring upward once more into an unbearable crescendo. The sound was beyond beauty, a formless language of raw music. Tamara sensed it did not originate from either Grigori or human tongues. Its message was a lament, like the cry hidden beneath the crashing of the waves, as the sea lunges in hungry desperation at the unyielding land. The caress of the Lament would eventually claim and reshape anything that it touched.