Beneath the Hallowed Hill (42 page)

“I…I didn’t even know…” Megan gestured to the cave around her, noticing small sentinels set at intervals around the wall. As her senses returned, she became aware of an underlying tension in the women, even fear. She tried to catch The Lady’s eyes, but she looked away. “What’s wrong?”

The Lady only shook her head. She turned and the priestesses filed out of the cave on silent feet. There was no energetic residue to soothe after this transport, no Fire Stone to sing back to sleep. The Earth simply swallowed the waves of energy, returning to balance. Megan gave the chamber one last glance. A rounded black stone stood in the darkness, pulsing with a deep note. It pulled at her to come back, but a hand slipped into hers, and she found Thalana by her side.

“It’s good to have you back,” her friend whispered.

“What’s happened?” Megan kept her voice low, but the Lady shushed them. Ever obedient, Thalana fell back and they walked single file through a dark tunnel. The sound of water soon reached Megan’s ears, and they came to a fork, the same one she found on Samhain, except from the direction she did not explore that night. Now she knew where it led—into the heart of the Tor and to the black omphalos stone. The Lady took the path toward the outside, still leading the priestesses in single file. The tension seemed laced with grief.

Megan shivered in the damp night air. She wished the Lady brought a wool cloak, but she would find something once she returned to the dormitory. The Lady dismissed them and turned toward the vigil hut, and the rest broke into conversation as soon as her back was turned. Thalana told Megan all the news as they walked through the night. Inside the dormitory, the other apprentices joined in, but Megan kept nodding off. “I’m going to bed,” she announced.

“You haven’t told us what happened in Atlantis,” Thalana complained.

Megan smiled like a Sphinx. “Tomorrow.”

The next morning at breakfast, she held everyone in awe as she narrated her trip to the Star Elders’ worlds. She spoke about swimming as a dolphin, about the tall Crystal People, about meeting her distant relatives on the home world of the Seven Sisters. They seemed distant relatives to her, although they said otherwise. She thought it was the difference in their life spans. She held back the news of her pregnancy; she wanted Govannan to be the first to know.

It surprised her how easily she fell back into the routine of classes and chores. No rituals were scheduled for a time. She had been back a few days when the Lady of Avalon asked to see her after the evening meal. Megan made her way up the meadow through the fence to the stand of yew trees where the Lady waited.

Without another word of explanation, the Lady of Avalon led her once again to the small vigil hut near Red Spring. They paused at the oak door and the Lady knocked softly before pushing it open. Megan walked into the stifling hut. Her eyes, used to the growing darkness outside, found the low table, but not the Morgen sitting behind it. At the side of the room, the lead healer bent over a smoking fire, stirring something in the three-legged cauldron. A bundle in the corner stirred. “Anne?”

The healer and the Lady exchanged a glance. “No, it’s Megan,” the Lady said.

The Morgen rose from her nest of blankets, her wrinkled face grim with pain. Her blue eyes looked on this world tonight, and she stretched her withered hand out. “Come closer, child.”

“It’s not catching,” the healer whispered. Nodding, Megan stepped up to the bed.

“Sit,” the old woman said, then turned to the Lady. “Can’t you make it warmer?”

The healer poured some liquid into a mug and brought it to the old woman. “This will warm you.” She held it for her as she drank.

She is human after all
, Megan thought,
not fae
.

After she took her medicine, the Morgen caught her ragged breath and watched Megan for a long moment. Finally, she spoke. “I will be leaving this world soon. My era is passing.”

Megan began to protest and a tiny sob escaped the Lady.

The Morgen ignored them both. “It has come upon me suddenly, although I’ve felt the changes creeping up on us these last years.” She stopped a moment to catch her breath, then pointed her bony finger at Megan’s abdomen. “The child you’ve carried to us from the Pleiades, she will take my place. I have waited for her a long time.”

Megan’s hand moved to cover her stomach unbidden.

“Not before another, however.” She gestured toward the Lady, meaning she would be the next Morgen. “You are not fated for this world.” She inclined her head toward Megan, then closed her eyes again and stayed silent so long, Megan thought she fell asleep…or left them. What did she mean, ”not fated for this world?” Would she die giving birth? Return to the stars with Govannan? Live hundreds of years by his side enjoying the glories of the Seven Sisters? She could never leave her child behind.

The healer crept up and passed her open palm over the front of the Morgen’s body then moved back, satisfied she still lived. At long last, the crone opened her eyes again and said in an eerily conversational tone, “How is our family in the stars? Do they still live in glorious homes? Dress in the softest silks? Eat the most delicious foods? Have I embellished my memories, embroidered imaginings while I sat here guarding this crossroad?”

Megan leaned forward and touched the Morgen’s hand. “It is as beautiful as you remember.” It frightened her to see this legend’s frailty.

The Morgen chuckled, which led to a cough. Once she caught her breath, she said, “I am truly flesh and blood, my dear. It is but the mantle of the office you saw before.” As if the mere mention of this power were enough to summon it, the old woman suddenly straightened, her eyes clouded in a blink, and her strong voice filled the room. “Go to Eden and save the sentinels. Shut down the Tuaoi Stone so it may pass the coming darkness in safety.” Her voice rose almost to a shout. “Hurry before it is too late.” She sank back into the nest of blankets.

The Lady took Megan by the arm and pulled her up. They moved toward the door, but Megan hung back. “I’ve only just returned.”

The Lady hurried down from the vigil hut toward the yews, Megan in tow. A figure separated itself from the shadows and approached them. The Lady whispered something in her ear and she took off at a run. “The priestesses will be here soon,” the lady told Megan. “Sit by the well. It will give you peace.”

Megan thought she should say goodbye and pack something for the trip, but the notion was ridiculous, of course. She sat by the well, trying to quiet the tumult in her heart.

Once the priestesses assembled, they formed a line and began to chant as they walked through the mist to the opening of the cave. As the line wound into the Tor, their lovely voices seemed to light the night and soothe Megan’s fear.

When they entered the chamber, the Lady took Megan forward. No hint of grief or weariness hung about her now. “Do not fear. Your child will be safe.”

“Thank you.” Tears welled in Megan’s eyes. She only learned of the baby a few days before and already she felt the protectiveness of a mother.

“Now, take your place in the center of the chamber. The transport will be just as it is in any Crystal Matrix Temple. After all, this is the Crystal Cave.”

Megan glanced around, but saw only dark stone and no trace of the magnificent display of radiance and color in the ceiling over the lake. The glint from the sentinels was the only light in this chamber. Here she was tucked in the womb of the Dark Mother, just as her new child was tucked into hers.

The Lady took her robe and squeezed her hand, then stepped back to her place on the wall. The chant deepened and built in layers of intricate harmony. The energy grew intense, as if it was too large to contain, but the final surge did not come. Megan remained standing, naked and confused, in the middle of the cave. The chant quieted and finally stopped.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

The priestesses looked to their leader, waiting for her to speak. The Lady lifted her head. Silver tears reflected in the dim light. “The Tuaoi Stone is no longer safe. They cannot receive you.”

Megan stepped forward, but the priestesses still stood silent, waiting.

The Lady took a long, shuddering breath, then proclaimed, “The Morgen is dead.”

Chapter Twenty-Three

The old Megan stared into the fire, wondering what the Morgen meant those many years ago. Not fated for this world? She was wrong about that. Megan spent long years in Avalon tending the crossroads, so long that she too wondered if she had imagined the glories of the worlds of the Star Elders or even the wonders of Atlantis. She drew a breath to continue her story, but it triggered another bout of coughing that shook her body like a tree in a windstorm. Old. She was the same age Govannan was when they made their child, Caitir, who sat before her now on the verge of replacing her, trying to be brave. The cough died down and Megan waited for enough breath to finish the story. Not only did she share the old Morgen’s fate, she was dying of the same disease. The damp took its toll.

She took a breath and pressed on. “The Lady sent word that we needed a ship, but my cousin Demos came walking over the crest of the hill a day later saying that he needed to go home, too. We flew back in his silver craft, the work of only a few hours in those days, and he told me what he knew.”

* * * *

“Earthquakes. Someone misused the Crystal Matrix Chamber and set off a series of earthquakes.”

“Misused? What do you mean? Who would do a thing like that?”

“They don’t know.”

“Can’t they stop the quakes?” Megan asked.

“They’ve sent to Al Khem for help. The Great Pyramid is even more powerful than the Fire Stone. It should be able to stabilize the crust.”

Megan pulled her wool cloak tight around her shoulders, even though the sun grew stronger as they flew south.

“There’s more. The New Knowledge Guild is on trial.”

“Trial?”

“They’re being questioned by the Prince himself. I heard Merope sat in.”

“Questioned about what?”

Demos stared out at the empty sky.

“Tell me. I’m not a child anymore.”

“No one can believe it.” His voice lowered to a whisper. “Apparently they’ve experimented on some animals. It was torture, really.”

“What?” Megan’s heart gave a lurch. “That’s—”

“Impossible,” he finished for her. “Seems this will be the age of the impossible.”

Megan hugged herself, trying to push away the images that came unbidden to her mind. She watched Demos for a while. “You’ve heard about that, too?”

“What?” He glanced at her and then back at his gauges.

“We’re entering a new time.”

He nodded. “That’s why I’m going home, to be with my family.”

Megan stared through the window down at the water below. Her hand moved to cover her abdomen. “What will become of us?”

“Oh, now,” Demos put strength in his voice. “The world is still a beautiful place.”

Megan gave him a weak smile.

This did not seem to satisfy him. Demos pointed the craft down, a touch of the scamp he was returning, and they plummeted toward the water. Megan screamed when they sliced through the surface, and let go of the armrest when he straightened out.

“Honestly,” she said, but didn’t have the heart to scold him. They moved through the turquoise ocean lit with filtered sunlight. Soon their presence attracted a pod of curious dolphins that swam along beside them. Megan watched their grey, sleek bodies and remembered the sensation of gliding through the water, of rocketing upward, breeching the surface and leaping through the air. She pressed her palm against the glass and smiled. “You’re right. The world is still a beautiful place.”

Demos dropped her off at the Crystal Guild Headquarters. “You’re sure you don’t want me to take you home?” he asked.

“No, but thank you for the ride.” She picked up her bag from the back and stepped away. “Let me know what you hear,” she called. Demos waved goodbye and lifted into the air.

That’s when the next quake hit. The ground lurched and Megan fell, luckily landing on her bag full of clothes rather than the hard pavement stones. People came running from the garage and the guild headquarters, making toward the Crystal Matrix Chamber. She grabbed her bag and followed, but the Earth did not cooperate. It bucked again. People fell, then picked themselves up and staggered across the shifting ground.

The temple was filled with knots of people milling around. Megan made her way through the crowd to the first circle of stones in the Matrix Chamber. Above the din of raised voices, the Tuaoi Stone screeched. Megan stopped dead. All along the base of the crystal, new cracks appeared. Light bounced around at odd angles. The stone still resonated from a transport, but its song made Megan’s head ache and her stomach threaten to turn over. She searched the throng for the Matrix pod workers and finally spotted Ianara, who stood on one side of the inner circle trying to get the crowd’s attention. No one was listening. The buzz of the towering crystal grew more dissonant, which seemed to fuel the chaos.

Daphyll ran in, her hair flying behind her, her eyes wide. Herasto arrived on her heels. The floor shook, knocking many people down, but the two pod members made their way to Ianara, who pointed for them to take their places in the circle. She spotted Megan and elbowed her way through the crowd. “Take your station,” she shouted above the din. “We have to calm the Fire Stone or it may break apart.”