Beneath the Hallowed Hill (40 page)

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Authors: Theresa Crater

Tags: #mystery, #Eternal Press, #Atlantis, #fantasy, #paranormal, #Theresa Crater, #science fiction, #supernatural, #crystal skull

BOOK: Beneath the Hallowed Hill
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Govannan was surprised to see Diaprepes, Megan’s father. He thought Evenor would preside, but perhaps the High Prince would conduct the proceedings instead. He glanced up to the next row and saw Diaprepes’ mother, Merope, the Grand Matriarch of all Atlantis, her purple robes lapping around her feet, which were clad in golden sandals. She tilted her head to Evenor, who was whispering in her ear. Govannan and Rhea slipped into the seats reserved for the Crystal Guild. The other guild heads watched, resplendent in their colorful robes. Their calm faces belied the taut atmosphere. The room felt like an overfilled balloon just about to burst.

Evenor finished his conversation with Grand Matriarch Merope and took his seat beside Diaprepes. The Prince cleared his throat and all conversation instantly ceased. He looked up to the top tier at Merope, who nodded to him. He looked around at the guild heads and the public, and said, “We are all gathered together for a most unusual event.”

Murmurs of agreement came for around the room.

“Just a few days ago, the Master of the Crystal Matrix Chamber, our good friend Govannan, made a most grisly discovery.”

Surid opened his mouth to object, but thought better of it.

“He found that our friends in the New Knowledge Guild were conducting unauthorized experiments on our fellow creatures. I myself have seen some of the results—” He paused, seeming to gather himself. “I must say I was shocked that any member of Atlantis would treat any living being in such a manner.” His eyes flashed and Surid paled. The crowd stirred, but the Prince forestalled them. He turned to Govannan. “Would the Master of the Crystal Matrix Chamber please tell us what he found when he visited the facilities of the New Knowledge Guild?” Diaprepes took his seat again and sat with a slight frown on his face. The Matriarch’s face remained serene.

Govannan shifted uncomfortably. After yesterday’s events, he wished Diaprepes wouldn’t draw attention to his work. He stood up, leaning most of his weight on his right leg. He narrated the story of his discovery—of the tapir with tubes in his belly, the monkey with the metal cap and wires stuck in her brain. As he talked, the room became more and more agitated. “Afterwards, I found the most horrible torture of all.” The room quieted once more. He pointed at Surid, whose jaw was clenched. “They cut a mountain lion in half and tried to sew on the hindquarters of a wolf.”

The room exploded. “What?” “Who in their right minds—” “How horrible.” “The poor creatures.” People turned to each other, shaking their heads.

Diaprepes stood and held his arms up for silence. The room slowly returned to order. “Thank you for your information, Govannan.” He then turned to Xandaros. “I believe the Governor sent you to investigate this report, Captain?”

The warrior stood, his muscled physique dwarfing even Govannan. “Yes sir. I took a group of my people to the location.”

“What did you find there?” Diaprepes prompted. “Please, tell us the whole story.”

“We found several of their guild workers cleaning out the cages Govannan told us about. There were a few animals there, but we did not find the ones the Matrix Master spoke of, only a few who awaiting some kind of…torture.” He glanced briefly over at Govannan. “The smell and the mess confirmed that the cages were once occupied. We found some very odd equipment—tubing, an assortment of knives, and saws.”

A few people broke down. A woman sobbed loudly and was ushered outside.

“The workers seemed agitated and refused to answer our questions.”

“Did you search any further?” Diaprepes asked.

“Yes, sir. We went through the whole facility, but we couldn’t find what was reported.” He hesitated.

“Is there more?”

“Some suggested we search the homes of the New Knowledge Guild members, but this was not allowed.” He glanced briefly at Evenor.

“Thank you, Captain Xandaros.” The Prince looked over at Surid. “What do you have to say?” He did not use Surid’s title.

Surid shook his head and stood up. He smiled, but his attempt at normalcy was undercut by his flushed face and crazed laugh. Several people recoiled from him. “I have a question of my own, my Prince.”

Diaprepes looked at him with distaste. “Ask your question, then.”

Surid turned on Govannan. “You accuse my guild of improper conduct, but then you yourself go off with foreigners.”

Govannan’s head lifted sharply. He never heard the Star Elders referred to in such a derogatory fashion. The word ‘foreigner’ never meant something negative before.

“On the heels of your return, these same extra terrestrials attack our city through your portal.” Surid pointed his finger at Govannan.

The room erupted into shouts, and once more the Prince called for order. “We are not here to discuss the incident with the Tuaoi Stone.”

“Why not?” another member of the New Knowledge Guild shouted from behind Surid. “They have put us more at risk than our experiments—”

Surid cut her off with words that made her shake her head angrily, but no one else could hear the exchange over the general din in the room. Surid turned back to face Diaprepes. “We have only been trying to cure these illnesses that the Healers Guild is incapable of dealing with.”

“We already know the nature of these illnesses.” Grand Matriarch Merope’s calm voice cut through the mayhem. The room lulled to quiet. “Our friends from Sirius explained it to us on their last visit.” She looked at Surid with the compassionate concern of a mother baffled by the bad behavior of one of her children. “Can you please explain to me, Guild Master, how cutting an animal in two could teach you something about these illnesses?”

Surid visibly pulled himself together before answering. “It is difficult to explain, madam. You would have needed to follow our theories.” At her withering look, he stumbled on. “We were trying to understand the basic nature of the species. What exactly makes our structures incompatible? After all, we are made up of the same building blocks.” He was warming to his subject.

“You admit to this abomination?” Merope’s quiet voice filled the chamber, reaching into the hearts of everyone there. Surid reached for his theories again, but they failed him. He could no longer meet her gaze. She turned to Govannan. “Master of the Chamber.”

“Yes, madam?”

“Do you know what occurred in your temple yesterday?”

“We do not have the full story yet.”

“Is the Earth’s mantle stable, Guild Mistress Oria?”

“For the present.” Oria’s voice shook.

“We will hear your reports as soon as possible.” Merope turned back to Surid. “Sir, I hereby order your guild to cease all activities.”

“What about the animal attacks?” someone shouted from the balcony. “Aren’t you going to protect us from them?”

“What about those creatures from space who’re trying to tear the Earth apart?” another voice yelled.

The balconies exploded. People shouted, some demanding protection, others wanting more experiments. “The Healers want to keep us sick,” came another voice.

Pleione, who was chanting to calm everyone, fell back into her seat as if she was punched in the stomach. Such thoughts were never had before in Atlantis— that a healer could deliberately harm, that hurt and torture would lead to knowledge, that the Elder Races would attack their own children. The guild leaders fumed. Some wept openly, others argued with their neighbors. Diaprepes shouted for the warriors to arrest whoever accused the Healers Guild. Merope sat in her royal robes and shook her head.

“Come with me.” Rhea spoke into Govannan’s ear, her warm breath somehow waking him from his stupor. “We need to figure out what happened yesterday. Clear answers will calm people. There’s nothing we can do here.”

They made their way out of the chaotic chamber, somehow escaped the shouting crowds outside, and ran to their guild, Govannan moving as fast as his limp allowed. Once they ran into the main building, Rhea sent for the senior members who were still present. It took only moments for them to assemble in her office.

“We’re shutting down the buildings to the general public. Lock the doors,” she ordered. “Set a guard on the Crystal Matrix Chamber.”

The Crystal Guild members stared at her in disbelief.

“Now!” she shouted. “Before any more damage is done.”

They scrambled to obey her.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Cagliostro only allowed himself a day to heal. The doctor told him that he was lucky he didn’t drown and gave him antibiotics to stop any infection in his lungs. He also said that if he dove within forty-eight hours, he would be risking his life. Cagliostro didn’t have time for corporeal weakness now, not when he had the tool he needed to get back home. He no longer searched for artifacts or power; he was certain the crystal would take him to his city. He somehow went to the wrong place. The first time the Fire Stone was used in five thousand years, it naturally took him back to its own point of origin. His second attempt was stopped by that man running into the temple, shouting. It distracted him. If he had time, he could have visualized his destination clearly and the portal would have taken him there. He was certain of it.

A sharp wind gave the sea some chop today, and the boat bounced with each swell, but he stood in the prow watching the GPS closely. He knew he was being watched and wondered if the Le Clairs brought a boat out yesterday. Mueller’s men said no one bothered the site, that Michael went from India straight back to Glastonbury.
Couldn’t get enough of that Anne,
Cagliostro thought.
Presumptuous neophyte. I’d never let a woman deter me like that
.

The GPS clicked to the right coordinates. “This is it,” he called over his shoulder. “Look for the buoy.”

Mueller stopped the boat and took out his binoculars, searching the surface of the water. After a few minutes, he shouted that he found it and maneuvered the yacht over to the spot.

“Drop anchor,” Cagliostro ordered. Mueller did as he was told, but kept glancing at him when he thought Cagliostro couldn’t see. It was clear his bodyguard thought he was taking unnecessary risks but wisely kept his mouth shut.

Mueller held the oxygen tanks while Cagliostro pulled on his gear, then helped lower him over the side. Cagliostro followed the line down, forcing himself to pause at intervals, making that one concession to the doctor. About halfway down, a manta ray swam by, majestic in the ocean as an eagle would be in the sky. He watched it until it disappeared, then began his descent again. At long last, he reached the sandy bottom.

To his relief, nothing was disturbed. He went right to work, repeating his ritual exactly as he did before. Soon the sentinels purred to life, glowing in the dark water, but today it seemed to take longer to wake Sleeping Beauty, as he came to think of the Fire Stone. His lungs burned, but he ignored the pain; soon he would be transmuted into light, and they would heal in a flash. The Tuoai Stone woke reluctantly under his persistent pressure, finally stirring to life. Cagliostro floated down to sit on the surface of the stone. When it softened, he took one last deep breath and stripped off his tank and mask, laying them carefully within reach—just in case he ever decided to come back. He pushed his way inside the crystal.

During the ritual, he built the picture—those airy domes, those spires of fire reaching into the sky—and as soon as he felt the gelatinous body of the stone close around him, he sent the image into its heart, his passion fueling the command. He held his hand before his face and watched it become transparent. His body turned a reddish light, like fire, then seemed to merge with all the red light in the rainbows, all the fire in the universe. He could go anywhere, he realized with a rush, but pushed the thought away and pictured his city again. The crystal seemed to hesitate, but then he dissolved in light and felt a whoosh, just like in a fast elevator.

When vision returned, he saw the same room he was in before, twelve sentinels brightly shining and blue tiled floor. Maybe all the temples were set up exactly this way. They must be; it was the geometry that made the transport possible. Cagliostro pushed his way through the stone before it hardened, feeling confident…and then he saw him. The man with the muscled shoulders, his hair a mass of braids, his face white with shock, his eyes staring. The man pointed at him, turned around and shouted.

“Where is it?” Cagliostro screamed. “Where’s my city?”

The man frowned, trying to make sense of what he was hearing.

This man prevented him from going home once again. Cagliostro launched himself at the culprit, grabbed his throat, and squeezed. The man’s eyes bulged, then his huge hands seized Cagliostro’s forearms and pulled.

Cagliostro lost his grip on the man’s throat. “Where is it?” he demanded.

“What do you want?” Cagliostro flinched when he realized he could suddenly understand.

“I want to go home,” he spit out. “Why do you keep stopping me?”

The man’s eyes filled with sympathy. “Where is your home?”

Cagliostro bellowed his rage. He heard pounding feet, many feet, and the doors of the temple being thrown open. Before anyone even entered the chamber, he threw up a shield at the doorway, then put his opponent in a neck lock and dragged him to the Fire Stone.

“Are you crazy?” the man managed to choke out. “You’ll kill us. You’re going to bring down the whole city.” A tremor snaked through the floor, confirming his words.

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