by F. E. Arliss
The two Grizedale crones spoke in unison, “We represent Grizedale coven, Cumbria.” Both curtsied slightly - an odd gesture when clad in riding clothes and knee-high boots. “We are kin to the animals of the world.” Emery thought that was a nice way to describe their powers.
The three women from the Plateausol group, chorused, “Plateausol, Carcassonne. Long sight.” As though everyone in the entire world knew that Carcassonne was in France. Well, Emery thought, everyone present knew that - so she’d overlook their arrogance this once.
Finally, the women in floating pale gray robes rose and said, “We are Muju, Isle of Muju, Estonia. Rulers of the wind.”
Emery almost snorted. Wow, those folks all had some stones, she almost giggled at the thought since she could rustle up a bit of wind magic herself. Then she grinned at herself - that had been a bit arrogant too. She’d have to watch that.
“We thank you for coming to our aid,” the slightly taller bald woman of the White Desert coven said, putting one arm around her companion and nodding an appreciative bow. “As the invitation stated, we have an affinity for darkness and death. In recent centuries we have focused on calming the dying and helping the blind learn to use their other senses in what is now their new reality of darkness. In the old days, centuries ago, that was not necessarily the case.”
All the groups nodded.
“Today we have come to ask for your assistance with something that could affect the entire world of wicca everywhere across the globe,” the taller White Desert woman continued. “Millenia ago, our founder was called upon to help a pharaoh of ancient Egypt resurrect the corpse of a great general. This was done in hopes of rallying the flagging popularity of the current pharaoh and to show how powerful and godlike he was. If he could resurrect the dead - especially a general that the people had revered - it would show that there was nothing he couldn’t do.”
“The experiment, which called upon the power of many different types of people including clans that wielded magic, religious acolites of all types of faiths, earth sciences, great astrologers, medical experts and genius philosophers, was both a success, and then a terrible failure.”
The coven representatives were all listening attentatively. So far the story had the beginnings of a riveting tale.
“The corpse of the mummified general was brought back from the edge of the Black Sea where a colony of great warriors at Colchis had been established in what is now southern Georgia. Many rulers had fallen to this general as he surged across the world defeating kingdom after kingdom on a quest towards Europe.
He was slain before he could return to Egypt with his triumphs. His name was Saulaces. It took many months for his corpse to be returned to his birthplace. During that time, all the groups called upon to find a way to resurrect him worked in unison to find a method they thought would work.”
“Saulaces body was laid in a deep temple below the pharaoh’s palace in what was an incomplete tomb. A single hole was bored straight down above the heart of the corpse, which had been removed from its sarcoptic jar and returned to its original location in the mummy chest. The brain and other organs were also replaced.”
The plateau-like ruin was dead silent as the group listened intently.
“At the height of a full, blue, blood-moon - the moon that governs life, the group came together and performed a ritual over the mummy’s body. They had each made a talisman of great power into which they had channeled all of their spirit energy and arcane knowledge. During a separate ceremony the talismans had been fastened into a single collar and chest plate and then attached to the mummy’s torso.”
“When the full, blue, blood-moon hit the moth amulet that had been placed in the center of the mummy’s chest plate as it was channeled through the small hole drilled in the roof of the chamber, a never before enacted ritual commenced. At the apex of the moon's power, the priests, scientists, philosophers, and our ancestors began a chant. As each of them focused all their spirit knowledge and life force into the amulets they controlled, the high priest used an amethyst stone to gather each of their energies and deflect all of it into the moth chestplate. When the amethyst channeled the energy into the moth amulet like a laser, magnifying the power, the heart of the corpse began to beat and the mummy began to reanimate.”
The bald woman hung her head as the groups around her gasped.
“Quickly joy turned to horror, as within seconds of stepping off the dias and beginning to process its awareness, the mummy became violent. Within an hour it had killed each of the powerful beings that had brought him to life. He drank their blood and rampaged through the other guards and acolytes that remained in the chamber. At the unimaginable power, violence, blood lust and horror of the sight before him, the pharaoh ordered a retreat. The temple entrance guards raced out with the pharaoh - who had originally been jubilant at the success of his creation, but was now babbling in terror - and chained shut the doors to the temple behind them.”
“The strength of the door was immediately reinforced when the creature began battering itself against the fortifications in a desperate attempt to find escape. Not only did the Pharaoh lock his creation into the unfinished tomb, he also fled the city, moving his capital back to its original location along the Nile. After several decades had passed and a new pharaoh took the throne, the sands swallowed the original site of this monstrous occurrence and all was forgotten.”
The groups waited in silence for the rest of the story.
“Within another decade, windstorms ravaged the original location as the lands of Egypt became dryer and more arid. The single bore hole was cleared. It was later found torn open to the hidden chamber below, the carcass of a short-maned lion was found still impaled on the horn of a rhinoceros. It was speculated that the animals died in a fight together and their blood drained into the bore hole, reanimating once more the magical chest-plate wearing corpse.”
“Along with the carcasses, no other corpse was found except for the soldiers, priests and other wise ones, which were clearly identifiable by their dress. However, a few pieces of the chest plate were found and due to their terrifying abilities, were secretly given to different sects to hide and protect. No sect knew of the others' pieces or which of the original priest-makers it had come from. Nothing else was known about the rest of the remains of the chest plate until about seventy-five years ago when a British archeologist found one of the pieces in a remote dig in South America.”
Another round of gasps echoed in the ruin. “What it was doing in South American, no one knows,” the pale woman continued.
“Needless to say, the being created all those millenia ago was undoubtedly the first vampire,” The bald woman glanced around the group, fear etched on her face. “We can not let the rest of the collar and breastplate be found, or be reunited. Why I’m saying this is because that piece - found by the archeologist seventy-five years ago in a remote dig in South America - has been stolen from the British Museum.”
Looks of concern ghosted across the faces Emery saw as she glanced around at the different groups.
“This could have been just a random theft, but the rough condition and less than valuable materials that comprise the moth amulet, give the impression that the perpetrators knew what they were stealing.”
“To raise even more concern in our coven, a second piece of the chest-plate, a solid silver, full moon amulet that the moth’s tail rested on when the chest-plate was whole, was also stolen from the University of Cambridge here in the U.K., five days ago. It was being studied and tested and was locked in a highly secured vault. The theft was sophisticated and deadly. Two security guards were killed and the cameras caught nothing on tape.”
The pale woman’s face was now clearly etched with fear. “Our coven fears that someone is trying to remake the chest-plate and re-animate some type of being. Whether it is to create a new clan of vampires or to re-animate some other type of mystical being is unknown to us. We are hoping that other covens may have knowledge
that will help us organize our thoughts about what is happening. Any way our coven looks at this, it is dangerous. Each individual item is dangerous and contains great power if used correctly. Together, there is no knowing what can happen.”
One of the women in yellow jeans and the bright blue windbreakers of the Plateausol coven stepped forward. Looking back at the other woman with her, they nodded to each other and the woman announced dramatically, “We have seen it.”
This brought a round of concerned gasps and a series of questions all jumbled together from the other covens. Emery let the babble continue as the Plateausol women seemed to preen with importance. Then, having had enough of the drama, Emery simply said, “Enough! Explain!” The barked command silenced the others and the Plateausol women sighed with disappointment at the abrupt ending of their reign of importance.
Standing very straight, they began in alternating spurts, to piece together what they had seen as a collective in their coven. “Some of us see physical distances and some of us see the distance of time. Several of our sisters have had flashes of “the sight” where they do see a clan of vampires that are trying to reanimate their earliest ancestor. All they see at this point in time is the darkness of a chamber, and a tatty looking ceramic butterfly-shaped amulet - it’s good to know it is supposed to be a moth,” the woman said sarcastically, letting her eyes rove haughtily over the pale forms of the White Desert coven.
“Aside from that, they only hear chanting and can glimpse many sets of white teeth with pronounced fangs and long, claw-like nails. It was undoubtedly some clan from the vampire race. Another of our coven saw copious amounts of blood draining from a slender neck adorned with a thick, black and white diamond, choker-like necklace tipped with a pearl-cross and a black skull.” Having said that, the woman waited as though for applause and when none was forthcoming, stepped back with a jaw-snap of impatience.
“Does anyone else have any information that is pertinent?” asked the White Desert coven’s leading representative. No one stepped forth. “If not, please take this information back to your respective covens and ask for information from all of your extended covens and sources. It behooves us all to stop this attempt to gain a powerful edge in the vampire community,” she said, looking to each group to gain agreement.
When her eyes met Emery’s at the end of her round of agreement seeking, she said, “Please extend my greetings to your crones,” and bowed briefly to Emery.
This action seemed to perturb the women from both the Musu coven and the Plateausol coven. One of the women dressed in the flowing gray robes of the wind coven, snapped, “Who put her in charge?” Then she swirled as though to leave.
The Plateausol women nodded and strode off towards the opening to the trail leading below. Emery knew this wasn’t good, as it denoted an unwillingness to work together. Suddenly a surge of power simply shot out of her antlers and blocked the path to the trail with a series of spider-web filaments that glowed silver in the morning mist. Everyone froze.
“I am in charge, whether you like it or not,” Emery stated, trying to cover her own surprise. “The earth and ethers have spoken. I did not will that ward into place. The ethers simply activated my gifts to create it. Therefore, you will listen to what I have to say and obey.” Emery said this as though she’d commanded armies through the centuries. Her voice was strong and carried a firm undertone that brooked no refusal.
Most of the coven representatives simply nodded and turned back to her. The wind coven, being arrogant and condescending, sent a gail-force gust of wind towards Emery and Mur in an open act of rebellion.
Emery having seen this coming, simply stepped in front of Mur and muttered, “Hold on!” He’d instantly wrapped his arms around her midriff and clung for dear life. Having known what was coming as he’d seen Emery walk air many times, he relaxed and clung like a limpet to her waist.
The group below gasped as the two Thorneridge representatives vanished for a moment.
A tinkling laugh and a whoop of joy, alerted the women below that nothing negative was happening. Following the sound of laughter and joy, the groups raised their eyes upward and to their dismay found a swirl of tartan plaid simply hovering like a kite over the ruined tower.
Emery walked slowly down the crest of the breeze that buoyed her and Mur in the air and then dropped elegantly onto the ground in front of the Musu women. Coming down, she’d muttered, “Watch those Musu bitches.”
Mur’s eyes were riveted to the two astonished windbreaker-clad women from France and the now gaping Estonian clan. “I’m thinkin’ they didn’t see that coming,” he murmured back, taking in their open mouths. “So much for ‘the sight,’ he added, his voice so low only Emery or Ray would have been able to hear it.
A rolling wave of respect went through the rest of the group.
“I propose that we don’t take our leaves until it is agreed upon that we cooperate with the White Desert coven to investigate what is clearly a dire threat to the human population and perhaps a threat to our covens as well,” Emery said clearly, her eyes boring into the Musu women, whose mouths had finally snapped shut at Emery’s clearly proficient use of air and of a higher-power’s wards.
“Very well,” the caftan-clad women each bowed grudgingly after their statement of affinity, then stood to the side curiously examining the wards that had blocked the exit trail.
Emery turned to the Plateausol group and met their eyes. The women’s faces were red with fury and eyes narrowed in challenge. “Just because you can use a few wards and control a bit of air does not mean you can tell other covens what to do!” snapped the woman, practically stomping one sky-blue sneaker clad foot.
“Clearly I am not telling you what to do. You could easily depart at any time,” Emery grinned, waving an elegant hand at the sky. “I’m sure you have many other powers besides those of sight.” She smiled again, letting the women see that she had complete faith in their abilities.
“I’m saying that the ethers clearly want us to remain and come to some type of agreement,” Emery stated evenly, gesturing to the web-like wards that had been placed over the exit trail. Emery knew that the wards had been channeled through her own magic and the powerful gift of the antlers. Though it had been her spirit-muse, Deira the jumping spider, that had most likely activated the web-like ward.
“It is also clear to everyone present that this threat needs to be worked on in conjunction with all covens. It isn’t just the White Desert who is concerned. After hearing the details, is your clan not concerned as well?” she asked, raising her white eyebrows in questioning astonishment.
The shorter representative said in French, “Of course we are!”
“Good,” Emery replied in flawless French - Millicent hadn’t given her all those lessons for nothing. “We appreciate the Plateausol coven’s cooperation and powerful gifts. Your clan will have an immense ability to aid this investigation. We are all grateful for your agreement!” At Emery’s lead, all the other coven reps bowed respectfully in concert with her and Mur’s joint acknowledgement as they bent at the waist. This bow of respect and the lauded praise was the balm to the other coven’s wounded pride. Both women nodded and looks of accepting acknowledgement tinged with arrogance passed over their features.
“Really,” Emery thought to herself, “It was amazing what a little flattery could do in the diplomatic world.”
“Shall we agree to meet again in a moon’s cycle?” Emery asked aloud. All covens nodded agreement and the glowing wards guarding the entrance to the stone steps suddenly disappeared. “Safe journeys. So mote it be,” Emery intoned.
Then with another slight show of air power, cast her navel’s web of power into the wind, stepped back into Mur’s arms - her own feet standing lightly atop his own - and cast them both into the wind towards the bay and the Hunter. They were gone in a split-second, both of them walking the wind to the beach.
The other covens had taken up stances upon the crumbling stones in order to
see them depart. Ray had read his twin’s mind and already had drawn anchor, raised sail and the Hunter was already cutting a path out to sea when Emery stepped aboard a huge sea turtle and was borne across the waves to the Hunter as though a princess upon a royal barge. Mur’s broad shoulders almost blocked the sight of her silver antlers sparkling in the now clearing sunlight.
It had been an impressive show of only a fraction of her powers. Enough to gain the respect of the representative coven members, but only a small margin of her real talents. The other women chatted to each other a bit before departing, though the Plateausol coven and the Musu coven left immediately, their respect not driving them so far as to mingle with other lesser covens and chat with them - or so their mindsets went.
Emery was glad to be away and threw on her ragged shorts and snagged wool sweater as soon as possible, then flopped into the sun on the deck letting the cool wind blow away the stress of the convergence of covens. Her mind was racing over the various facets of the meeting trying to catalog them all quickly before her mind slept.
Chapter Thirteen
The Realization
