Emily's House (The Akasha Chronicles) (26 page)

“Okay little guy but just give me a minute to say goodbye to Madame Wong.”

She rose from her lotus position but still came only to my chin. I had to bend down to embrace her.

“Thank you,” I said as tears came to my eyes. “I’ll never forget you, Madame Wong.”

“Madame Wong will be ghost that haunts your memory,” she cackled.

“Yes,” I laughed. “You will haunt me for sure!”

“You will be my special little bird Miss Emily,” Madame Wong said then disappeared. Not only did Madame Wong disappear, but her little cottage and the giant maple tree –even the well and meadow and stream – all gone, swallowed by the insubstantial mist and fog of the Netherworld. It was like it had never been there at all.

“Hindergog, where did she go?”

“Hard to say.”

“But she was here, right? I’m not going loco am I? There was a little Chinese woman here, and a small house and a tree?”

“Yes, those things were here.”

Hindergog began walking in the silvery mist now engulfing us again.

“Hindergog, where are we going?”

“I must deliver you to your next Master.”

“Yes, but who is it? Who am I going to see? What will my next master be like?”

“You will see,” he said as he scurried along in front of me.

After a while, Hindergog stopped. He turned to me with a most serious look on his face.

“What is it Hindergog? Do you have something to tell me?”

“Something to give you,” he said as he pulled a small item out of pocket hidden on the inside of his tweed vest. The parcel was wrapped in a beautiful purple cloth.

“What’s this?” I asked as he handed it to me.

“This. . . this is something that will help you. Something I made many, many Earth rotations ago. Something I made for my first mistress. . .”

I gently opened the cloth and couldn’t believe my eyes. Inside was the most elegant dagger! It had a smooth, sharp silver blade, but the hilt was gold and encrusted with precious gems, some of a type that I had never seen before. The gem at the top was perfectly round and set in gold. At first it was milky white like an opal, but as I studied the jewel it began to change and flicker. The gem became perfectly clear and seemed lighted from within. Then I began to see pictures in my mind like a movie in my mind’s eye. Fanny and Jake were there – on a train. Fanny was leaning on a man that looked familiar.
Who is that?

Dad!
It was my dad, and he didn’t look like a zombie anymore. It was my own dad, back from the undead. And he was on a train with Fanny and Jake.
But going where?

The jewel then clouded over again and became milky white. “Hindergog, I just had a vision. Did the jewel at the top here – did it make my vision happen?”

“The Sight Stone. It’s exceptionally rare indeed. Probably the last one of its kind in all the universe. Yes, it enhances the sight.”

“But these visions I have – are they telling the future or showing the past?”

“Sometimes the sight shows us things as they are – the truth of a situation. Sometimes the possible future, sometimes past.”

“But how do I know – I mean how am I to know which is which? How can I be certain of what I’m seeing?”

“Ah, that is the trick now, isn’t it? With experience, Miss Emily, you will know what you see. Your vision – what did you see?”

“I saw Fanny and Jake on a train and the weird part was, they were with my dad!”

“Why strange for your friends to be with your dad?”

“Well, because my dad – he’s been sort of lost since my mom died.”

“Lost? I thought he lived with my young mistress.”

“Yes, well he lives with me but you know, it’s like he’s not quite there. He walks around and goes through the motions, but he’s not present. Do you understand?” I asked as I could see that his brow was furrowed.

“I think I understand your meaning. You did not expect to see your father in the crystal. What do you think they were doing?”

“I’m not sure. That’s why I’m asking you for help. They were on a train. But is that something they’re doing right now? Or something they already did? Or something they’re going to do?”

“The one who has the vision is in best place to answer that question. I did not see your vision. I do not know the meaning of it. Reach out with your feelings about it. What did you feel when you saw the vision?”

“Hope. Yes, I felt a surge of hope.”

“What think you then of the vision? Past, present or future?”

“I think it’s present. I think I was seeing what they’re doing now in our world.”

“Probably right then.”

“But it still doesn’t answer the question. Why would my dad be on a train with Jake and Fanny?”

“Only time will answer that riddle,” said Hindergog.

We walked along in silence for a while. But then I had to ask a question that had been burning in my mind.

“Hindergog, was this Saorla’s dagger?”

“Yes.”

“The one she took her own life with?” I asked as I held it gingerly.

“Yes.”

“But Hindergog, how did you get this? You were here and Saorla in my world.”

“It does not matter how it came to me, but it did. It found its way back to Hindergog,” he said as his eyes misted up.

“But Hindergog, I can’t take this. You loved Saorla very much, and this is the only thing of hers that you have. You keep it, little guy. I can’t take it.”

“You must have it Miss Emily. It belonged to Saorla, but it was forged by my hand for my first mistress and was held by every High Priestess since. You must have it now,” he said.

“This is an honor, Hindergog, truly. But I’m not a High Priestess yet. I don’t feel ready for such a valuable thing.”

“Miss Emily, you are next High Priestess. You must have the dagger. It will help you. Like the torc about your arm, the dagger has much magical energy. You will need it more than old Hindergog.”

“What magic does it have Hindergog?”

“You have experienced the Sight Stone. It is a sacred stone from my own world, the only one that still exists. It will help you with the sight – not that most of the High Priestesses of the Order of Brighid needed much help with that.”

“Well I do! Do I have to do anything special to use it?”

“Just by holding it, you will receive a boost to your own sight and inner guidance. But there is more. It is more than just a dagger. That object you hold – it can become any object that you need it to be.”

“What? It will change into whatever I want? Oh, is that just here – in the Netherworld?”

“No, mistress, even in your world its alchemic powers are the same. It will become whatever is needed by the person who holds it.”

“That’s amazing!” I said as I looked at it closely.

“But know this Youngling. If the holder of the dagger ever seeks to use it for their own selfish ends – instead of for the highest good of all – then it will cease to have any magical powers at all. It will become a useless hunk of metal.”

“So basically use it for good, not evil. Got it.”

“It’s more than use it for good, Miss Emily. Do not use if for your own selfish purpose. That is the key.”

“Don’t be selfish. Okay, I can do that. Thank you, Hindergog. This truly is a wonderful surprise,” I said as I bent down to hug the little guy.

Hindergog seemed a bit flustered and like he didn’t know what to do. Finally, he lightly patted my back with his furry hands.

I let him go and he smoothed his vest and walked again.

“Miss Emily is ready now to meet her master,” he said as more of a statement than a question.

“Yes, I’m ready,” I agreed.

For what I wasn’t sure.

48. Emily’s Second Master

“Miss Emily, I must leave you.”

“You can’t leave me,” I whined. “I’m stuck in this blasted mist again. I need you to help me find my way.”

“You must find your final master on your own,” he replied.

“But how, Hindergog? You gotta’ give me some kind of clue.”

“From your desire to learn all that you need to learn to fulfill your destiny. When you have that in your heart, your master will appear to you.”

“I should know by now that nothing here is easy.”

“’Tis quite easy if you concentrate. Just focus Miss Emily. I am away,” he said as he started to disappear into the mist.

“Hindergog, wait! Will I see you again?”

“You will see me again if the fates allow,” he said and then disappeared into the fog.

What now?
I stood there for a few minutes, not sure what to do next. Then I decided to focus on my task and began to walk again.

I soon found myself rambling along rolling hills and green meadows, with stands of large oak and ash. There were little medieval cottages with straw-thatched roofs, and I walked on a path made of stones. It was a majestic place.

As I walked I pondered my destiny. I had learned so much, but I still didn’t feel ready to face Dughall. I wasn’t sure what I needed to learn, but my time with Madame Wong had taught me that there was so much that I didn’t know – that I didn’t understand.

As I pondered these things, my surroundings began to change. My stone path changed to a modern sidewalk. The small, medieval cottages replaced with Midwestern homes made of brick or clad in white siding.

My pace quickened along with the beating of my heart. This sidewalk was all too familiar.
Could it be?

Up ahead a house. A house well known to me.

I began to run and before long found myself at the front of my own house. But this wasn’t the house I’d left. No, this house had beautiful red petunias and sweet William growing in the flowerbeds. And there was a smell wafting from the house – the smell of chocolate chip pancakes and coffee and bacon.

I practically leaped to the red door. Red, just as my mother had made it. My heart felt like a train rolling down a track in my chest. My throat was dry. I don’t think I could have spit if my life depended on it. My hand reached out to the doorknob. I hesitated a minute then slowly turned the knob and opened the door.

I stepped inside and my feelings were confirmed. Muriel wasn’t here – at least not yet. Wherever I was – whenever I was – this was a place and time before Muriel entered the scene. The house was filled with color – the golden walls and the vibrant hues of my mom’s Technicolor paintings.

I somehow found the voice to yell out, “Mom?” There was no answer.

I walked from the front hallway to my left into the formal living room. It was exactly as I remembered it from when my mom was alive. Nothing changed. But it was empty.

Back out to the hallway and straight across from the formal living room into the dining room. It too was exactly the same – frozen in a time past. The large, round antique oak dining table and worn Oriental rug over the wood floor juxtaposed with my mom's large, brightly covered canvases. But that room was empty too. There wasn’t a sound in the place.

But she had to be here! She just had to be. I followed the scent of the pancakes. The kitchen.

I didn’t slow my pace, but my feet felt like they were walking in quicksand. As I walked through the kitchen door, there she was. Her back was to me, but I’d recognize that hair anywhere.

“Mom!” I cried as I ran across the room to hug her.

She turned to me. My heart nearly stopped. The woman looking at me was - my mother! Same golden red mane of wavy hair cascading down her shoulders. Same emerald green eyes. She smiled the same warm, embracing smile I remembered from my childhood.

She wrapped her arms around me, and it should have been one of the most incredible moments ever but –

“Wait, this isn’t right,” I said. “You have the face of my mother, but you are not my mother, are you?”

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I think you’re like a shadow of her. . . but you’re not real.”

“You have been told that this is not the world of spirits.”

“I know. . . I know. It’s just that. . . I want so badly to see her again. Why do you appear to me with her face? Why torture me with the sight of her?” I asked at the point of tears.

“I torture you not, dear child. You see the face that you want to see. If it is torture, then it is you that torture yourself.”

“Who are you then?”

“I am the one your ancestors called Brighid.”

“You are the goddess?” I asked incredulously.

“I am a goddess to some,” she replied in a soft and melodic yet strong voice. It was strange. Even though her lips were moving, the voice seemed to come from someplace other than the body in front of me.

“I don’t think I’ve ever really believed in God,” I said.

“You are experiencing me here, now, with your senses. What do you believe now?”

“My world has been turned so upside down ever since I first saw Hindergog. I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“That’s a fine answer Emily. Yes, keep your mind open – observe – consider. Answers will come to you in time.”

“Goddess, I would like to see your true face. Can you show me who you truly are?”

In that moment, her whole body and demeanor changed. She seemed to grow larger and yet at the same time less substantial – more a shimmery vision. Instead of the common clothes of a human in my time, she wore a long gown that seemed to skim her body yet be a part of it as well.

But it was her face that caught my attention the most. Her face was my mother’s face, but then it was Saorla. As swiftly as it became Saorla, it changed yet again to another woman with auburn hair. Her face would stay one person for maybe a few minutes, no more, then swiftly morph to another woman’s face. There were women who looked much like Saorla and my mother, but there were others with dark hair and eyes. Some had dark skin, others had fair skin. At one point I even recognized the face of Madame Wong. I was glad to see the familiar visage that I had come so accustomed to. But as soon as I got excited, the face morphed yet again into another unknown woman. Each time this bizarre metamorphosis happened, the head of this being glowed a different color.

“What happened to your face? Who are all these women? I wanted to see your true face.”

“This is the true face of the goddess. Each woman from your world who has visited me here has envisioned me as she would. The goddess is created in the likeness of humans.”