Chapter 40
That night, the Wives served Sorcha and her father a sumptuous supper in his private quarters. As they poured purple-red wine into Sorcha’s glass and filled her plate with roast chicken, potatoes, zucchini and beans — all from the settlement, her father assured her — she sensed the Wives watching her. Their constant scrutiny heightened her unease. Was she among friends and family or supping with her enemies? Eve had told her to trust no one but did that include her own father and his women? The wine tasted richer and headier than the red she had drunk at Samantha’s. As she sipped it she welcomed its calming effect. “Tell me about my mother.”
Delaney looked up from his food. Zara leaned toward him. “Eve approached Sorcha and made a nuisance of herself. She told Sorcha she was a friend of Aurora.”
“She didn’t make a nuisance of herself,” Sorcha said. “She greeted me.”
“Xara, you’re being disrespectful,” Delaney scolded the blonde, who reddened. “Eve has been with the family from the beginning. She was one of the pioneers.” He turned to Sorcha. “Eve was indeed a good friend of your mother’s. She and Aurora were with the Indigo Family back in the old days, in California.”
“Before you joined?”
He nodded. “It was Aurora who introduced me to the family. Your mother changed my life. She revealed me to my potential and my destiny. And when I brought the family to Oregon she was by my side. My strongest ally.”
“What was she like?”
He smiled. “Very like you. Brave, gifted and beautiful.” He looked suddenly wistful. “And headstrong.” He sipped his wine and gestured to her locket. “She always kept you close to her heart, Sorcha. Never left your side when you were a child. Wouldn’t let any of the others care for you. She was protective right up to the end.”
“How did she die?”
“An aneurism. It was very sudden.” He frowned, as if unaccustomed to questions, picked up the earthenware carafe and poured her more wine. “What did you see today, Sorcha.?”
“Not much. I wasn’t allowed to leave the settlement.”
He smiled. “It’s for your own safety, Sorcha. I lost you once. I don’t want to lose you again. Things will be different after Esbat.”
“What the hell is this Esbat everyone is talking about?”
‘You’ll experience it for yourself in two days’ time. Did you see anything that jogged your memory today?” He turned to Zara. “You did show her around the settlement?”
“I tried,” Zara said defensively. “Until she insisted on looking around by herself.”
“I seem to remember the tower,” Sorcha said, sipping more wine. “I don’t know why but I feel it’s key to regaining my memory. What happens inside? What function does it serve for the Great Work?” She sensed the women stiffen.
“The Great Work?” said Delaney, glancing at Zara. “What have you told her of the Great Work?”
“She told me nothing,” said Sorcha. “She said I had to ask the Seer. You.”
Delaney nodded. “It’s better I show you rather than tell you.”
“When?”
“When the time’s right, Sorcha,” chided Zara.
Sorcha ignored her. “Will you at least tell me how it concerns me?”
Delaney smiled. “It concerns us all.”
“You’re very inquisitive,” said Maria, the pregnant redhead, pointedly.
“You should know better than to question the Seer,” said Deva. The brunette had made no mention of her baby since surrendering it that morning.
Delaney smiled at his Wives. “It’s all right. Sorcha has no memory. She needs to ask her questions.” He turned to her. “Be patient, Sorcha. I promise everything will become clearer on Esbat. It’s only two days away.”
As the evening wore on, any further questions were parried with the same promise that all would be revealed on Esbat. After supper, Sorcha excused herself and went to her room. The wine had made her drowsy but she made herself stay awake by walking around the room, waiting for the others to retire. When it was quiet she climbed out of her bedroom window and made her way to the Great Hall. The moon was almost full and the clear night sky so luminous with stars that she kept to the shadows. She reached the main doors of the hall twelve minutes before her midnight rendezvous with Eve. She could see light in the gatehouse by the bridge but otherwise the deserted settlement appeared to be asleep. She was anxious about what Eve might tell her but as she waited in the balmy air her drowsiness overcame her nerves. Sitting on the soft grass, she leaned back against the wall and allowed her eyes to close.
She woke with a start, mouth dry, head aching. Eve was standing over her, shaking her gently. “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered, “but I wanted to be sure I wasn’t followed. Come.” She pulled Sorcha gently to her feet and led her to the edge of the forest at the back of the settlement. When they were obscured by foliage she sat down on the grass. “This will do. The Seer has eyes everywhere but we should be hidden from your father and his Purple Powers here.”
“Purple Powers?”
“It’s what us old-timers call the Seer’s inner circle — his so-called Watchers. The ones who wear the purple robes and tunics, the high-level pure indigos who are totally devoted to the Seer.”
“I thought everyone here was devoted to my father.”
“They are. They worship him. But the Purple Powers are his eyes and ears.”
Sorcha saw that Eve’s aura was pure indigo. “Your aura’s high level and you’re a senior member of the family. Why aren’t you a Watcher?”
She laughed without humor. “Me a Purple Power? I ask too many questions.” She felt in her pocket and extracted a small color photograph. “First of all, let me show you this. It’s a picture of your mother and you. Take it. I have a copy.” As Sorcha stared at the smiling woman in the picture, noting the eyes, cheekbones and hair, the oddly familiar face stirred a deep sadness within her. “I took it a few days after the Indigo Family moved here. She was very happy then.”
“What was she like?”
“What I remember about her was how full of life she was. She always saw the best in people.” Her voice hardened and she checked her watch. “Sorcha, we haven’t much time and you need to understand what you’ve come back to. In the past you’ve always been happy here but things changed recently and just before you left something happened that made you run away.”
“What?”
“I don’t know. You couldn’t tell me. You were too upset and there wasn’t time.” She pointed to the tower. “I’ve been concerned for some time about the darker aspects of the Seer’s Great Work and on the day you fled I saw you running out of there, very upset. Something happened in there that made you run. Something that frightened you.”
“What exactly is his Great Work?”
A sigh. “It’s hard to define. It’s been evolving over time, becoming ever more ambitious. Before Aurora introduced your father to the Indigo Family, all we wanted was a place where Indigos could gather, explore their sensory gifts and use their third eye to get in touch with their spiritual side. But after the Seer joined he took control and pushed the boundaries. He wanted us to recapture the golden age of our ancestors, the Nephilim, the fallen angels. From the beginning, he lay with all the purest indigo women. He once told Aurora that he loved her above all others but needed to breed a race of angels that could straddle this world and the next. You may have noticed how many of the children resemble him.”
“What did my mother think of this?”
“Aurora fought him at first but after you were born she had complications and bore no more healthy children. Aurora decided then it would be selfish not to allow the Seer to further his divine bloodline. She worshiped your father. She believed totally in his ability to leave his body and contact the other side. She thought he was a throwback to the Grigori — the watcher angels who slept with human women and created the Nephilim. So she accepted his other Wives and consoled herself that she was supporti
ng him while he led us on a great journey.
“When he first moved us to Oregon, we were all excited to be in this beautiful and bountiful place. He had led us to a promised land in this world and we believed he would soon lead us to one in the next. He provided the funds that allowed us to build the settlement. When he began building his tower, however, he brought everything in from outside: craftsmen, stone and special materials. He told no one what it was for. Only that it would assist his Great Work, help him peer through the veil and observe the other side. We discovered whatever we could by watching its construction.”
“What did you find out?”
“Not a lot. It has several floors, no windows and a spiral staircase running up the center. The walls are constructed of two layers. The outer skin is basic stone, the inner wall inlaid with amethyst shipped in from Brazil. And there’s a layer of what looks like black rubber between them.”
“Rubber?”
“I don’t know what it’s for. Insulation? Damp? He called it his observatory and as it grew ever higher, so his own presence loomed larger over us. He introduced stricter rules. He began segregating sub-indigos from indigos, and adopting customs from other religions. He forbade entry into the forest. He introduced the Watchers, robes and a hierarchy. He made everything more ritualized. Esbat was once just a feast night for drawing down the moon, celebrated by Wiccans, but he made it into a formal ceremony, in which two white-robed assistants called Pathfinders were selected to accompany him to the tower and help him contact the other side. He became obsessed with astral traveling — out-of-body experiences — and contacting the spiritual realm.”
“How did my mother feel about this, since she’d invited him into the Indigo Family?”
“At first, she had no problem with him reforming the family. We needed leadership and he gave it. But when the tower was complete, he became more autocratic and secretive and your mother grew increasingly concerned about what the tower was for. She never doubted his powers but began to doubt his motives. She researched the Grigori and the Nephilim and discovered that many sources regarded them as being not so much benign angels as fierce demons. Your mother became worried about what the Seer was doing in there. Especially when some of the Pathfinders summoned to the tower didn’t return.”
“What happened to them?”
A shrug. “He says some left the commune on a mission for the Great Work. He claims to have guided others to the spiritual realm where they chose to remain.”
Sorcha remembered Zara saying something similar. “What do you mean, guided them to the spiritual realm?”
“The Seer believes his astral body — what some call the soul — can leave its physical shell. Anchored to his physical body by the silver cord attached to his crown chakra, he can travel the astral plane in search of the spiritual realm. He claims to be able to take those less gifted with him. And if they choose to sever the silver cord and stay in the astral plane, then so be it. It’s a great honor and privilege to be chosen. Each Esbat everyone desperately wants to be summoned to the tower. Those that are selected and return are forbidden to talk of what they experience there.” Eve sighed. “Sadly, just after you mother expressed her concerns to me, she got ill.”
“My father said she had an aneurism.”
“He told me that, too. He said she got ill so he took her to the tower to guide her to the other side. I never saw her again. Her death worried me, for many reasons, but I really began to worry when your father started involving you in his Great Work. Until recently you were left alone but your mother always worried that your father would involve you sooner or later.”
“Why?”
Eve smiled and stroked Sorcha’s hair. “Because you’re special — really special. I have your mother’s gift for seeing auras but you have all the gifts of the third eye. Your father’s aura is violet with an indigo tinge — almost unique — but yours is purer still: violet with a white border.”
“White?”
“If you combine the major colors you get white light. A pure white aura is the purest of all. Some call it the divine aura — a halo. Although the Seer sired a number of children with other pure indigos, Aurora was the only woman who produced a violet for him and survived the birth. He tried many more times with her but after her first pregnancy — which produced you — all her other babies were stillborn. In the past his focus on the Great Work has been elsewhere but recently he’s become convinced you’re the key to completing it.”
“Why?”
Eve shook her head. “All I know is that something about your father’s work, and your role in it, made you leave — made you run for your life. You may have lost your memory but whatever frightened you then hasn’t gone away. In fact I think it’s going to happen at Esbat, the day after tomorrow.”
“So what do I do?”
“You have two choices. One, you confront your father. Make him tell you what he’s doing. His whole authority and status as the Seer is based on his aura. Yours is purer than his. You have the power to challenge him.” She paused. “Two, you can leave again. Get away from here, as far as you can, and never come back. Whatever you choose, I’ll support and help you.” Sorcha heard a noise, which made Eve start like a panicked deer and stand up. “It’ll be dawn soon. I must get back.” She bent and kissed Sorcha on the cheek. “If you do confront your father, ask him about Kaidan.”
“Who?”
“His mother died in childbirth but he’s the only other violet your father sired. Aurora said the Seer always saw Kaidan as the key to creating his brave new world. Ask your father why he’s suddenly shifted his attention from Kaidan to you. What’s changed? I must go.” Eve patted her shoulder then hurried into the night.
“Wait,” Sorcha hissed. As she watched Eve disappear, her mind raced with questions. Why had she run away before? Should she run away again? Or should she stay and confront her father? And who the hell was Kaidan? God, she wished Nathan Fox was here now to help her decide the best thing to do.
Chapter 41
Eve hurried back to her cabin, anxious not to be seen. The Seer and his Watchers had already marked her out as a troublemaker and she didn’t know who they would react if they knew she had been talking with Sorcha. Seeing Aurora’s daughter again had filled her with both fear and hope: fear that Sorcha might be in danger, and hope that in coming back here with no preconceptions, free of her father’s brainwashing, she would see the Indigo Family for what it was. As Eve reached for the door of her cabin she allowed herself to feel optimistic. If Sorcha stayed and confronted her father, then her gifts and courage could change things, help restore the family to its original, simpler values.
Suddenly, a figure appeared out of the shadows and stepped in front of her. When the moonlight revealed his face Eve froze. She started to speak: “What are you—?” Before she could say more he clamped a hand over her mouth and she felt a needle prick her arm. Her legs buckled beneath her and as she fell, he threw her over his shoulder. She tried to struggle and cry for help but the only muscle in her body that appeared to be working was the heart beating frantically in her breast. As he carried her away from the cabin into the shadows, she tried to regain her bearings, wondering where he was taking her. Her panic swelled as he changed direction and carried her toward the looming tower, its conical helm silhouetted against the moon like a black spearhead aimed at heaven.
Making her way back to her cabin, Sorcha had got as far as the Great Hall when two Watchers appeared from the gatehouse by the bridge and began walking toward her. She stopped in the shadows, holding her breath, aware that dawn was coming and it was getting lighter. When they turned and walked back to the bridge, she waited for them to re-enter the gatehouse. Just as she was about to break cover and run across the moonlit ground she heard someone coming from the cabins to her left. Holding her breath, she pressed herself flat against the timber walls and peered around the corner of the Great Hall. A man passed within yards of her. He was carrying something large over
his right shoulder. At first she thought it was a sack or a rug. Then he stepped into the moonlight and she realized it was a body.
As she released her breath, she detected a faint malodor in the night air, then it was gone. Blood pounding in her temples, Sorcha peered closer. A woman was slung over his shoulder, two limp arms hanging down. Even before she saw the face and hoop earrings she knew it was Eve. Her eyes stared blankly at Sorcha. Dismissing all previous thoughts of returning to her cabin, Sorcha followed the man around the wall of the Great Hall, careful to stay concealed. When he turned out of sight, she ran and peered around the corner, almost tripping over the steps to the main doors. Ahead she could see the meandering path and knew instinctively where he was heading. Moving as quietly and inconspicuously as possible, she followed. When he reached the tower he stopped and laid Eve on the ground. Pausing by the door, he turned his head to look behind him and she saw his face in the moonlight. The shock was so great she had to press a hand over her mouth to stop herself crying out. She had to be mistaken. It couldn’t be him.
How could the intruder who had tried to abduct her in Portland be here? Why was the killer she had glimpsed in the death echoes of the three crime scenes taking Eve to the locked Observatory? She remembered back to the night at Tranquil Waters when he had slung her over his shoulder, as drugged and helpless as Eve. Fox had saved her then. But he wasn’t here to help her now.
Sorcha considered running to her father for help. He controlled this place. He could stop this happening. But there wasn’t time. She searched the ground beneath the trees and picked up a sturdy branch, then broke cover and ran to the tower. As the man concentrated on the keypad she raised the branch and struck him as hard as he could over the head. “Leave her alone,” she shouted. The wood snapped like tinder on his skull and the man turned to her, surprised but unhurt. He rubbed his head and frowned. Then he pushed her to the ground and jumped on her, winding her. His smell filled her nostrils. She punched and kicked him but he was too strong. “Help,” she cried. “Help.”
Colour of Death, The Page 21
