Gene of Isis (41 page)

‘For once I agree with you.’ Devere took hold of my free hand, as the other was tightly clutching a red velvet case. ‘Let us put some distance between this vessel and us…not that distance seems to matter any more.’

Molier cannot seek you in his spirit again. The command of the ladies of the Elohim will bind him to that.

‘But he is capable of other feats?’ I assumed.

As are the both of you,
Albray assured me, motioning Devere and myself in the direction of the exit.

Although there were only a few chapters left of Ashlee’s tale, the hour was late and my eyes begged for rest. I vowed that I would finish the journal first thing in the morning.

I switched off my light and lay my weary bones on my bed. My head was swirling with images of places and people I had read about today. Ashlee obviously admired Albray and trusted him implicitly; Lillet’s account of him was the complete reverse. Could death change a man so much? And what of Molier? Again the two accounts differed vastly. Who was I to believe? Or was neither account credible enough to warrant too much consideration? After meeting with Molier today, I found the notion that he could be the beastly apparition in Ashlee’s tale very hard to swallow.

The thought that Albray might visit me in my dreams tonight swept all other concerns aside. I remembered I had promised Albray I would keep the stone close.

Once I had retrieved the stone from my bag, I lay back holding it up by its leather band to watch it twirl back and forth.

I would have been prepared to give up this career-making assignment and any ancient secrets I might uncover here in the Sinai, if only Albray could be some guy I met back in Oz, who was alive, available and interested in a life with me. Was I actually admitting that my love for him had grown greater than my love of my work?

‘I hate doubting you, Albray, but you’re a hard character to work out,’ I whispered so quietly that I barely heard it.
If only you would tell me your version of events. A
tear escaped my eyes as I tucked my charm under my pillow.

I was so tired, so weary of thought and emotion that sleep came swiftly.

The vivid colours and the lush provincial landscape sparked my recollection of seeing Albray kneeling before a woman dressed in scarlet by a fountain.

Lillet!
I realised that I was going to see the priestess.

I feared for a moment that Albray, having been spurned by me, had turned to the past love of his life for comfort, but when I reached the ivy-covered stone walls where a gate granted entry to the priestess’ garden, I found Lillet alone.

‘Please.’ The dark-haired beauty invited me to sit on the side of the fountain with her.

‘Lillet du Lac?’ I sought confirmation.

‘Mia Montrose,’ she said, completing the introductions, letting me know she was well aware who I was. ‘I wish to tell you the rest of my story, if you will hear it.’

I sat myself down beside her, somewhat stunned by the concern that filled her voice and radiated from her being. Lillet felt like an old friend that I had not
seen in some time, and she seemed well disposed toward me also, even though we had never met.

‘I have long regretted ever putting ink to that parchment you read today,’ the priestess admitted, ‘for it is incomplete without the second scroll, and seriously misleading in many regards.’

‘You seem a very different person to the woman who penned that account. I had expected you to be more…’ I tried to think of a mild way of putting it so as not to offend my hostess’…forbidding.’

Lillet smiled to concede my intuition was fair. ‘During that time I was completely filled with my own self-importance. I believed that I had reached spiritual perfection, when in fact all I had achieved was a profound lack of tolerance for the rest of humanity. I lusted after the divine liberation of death, and failed to realise what it was to truly live and care and love.’

‘But the faith and holy order in which you were raised had a lot to do with that, surely?’ I tried to justify her actions.

‘My faith should have instilled a sense of unconditional compassion, love and, thus, wisdom in me, but none of these fine qualities did I display during my quest for our foremothers.’

‘But you see your failings now, so somewhere along the road you must have had an awakening?’ I said, as she was clearly repentant and wiser now.

‘I wish I could say I came to my senses through my own observations.’ She lowered her eyes, and had a moment to regain her composure and look at me once more. ‘It took a heart-wrenching lesson to make me realise my ignorance and lack of judgement, for in truth I had no right to be judgemental of anyone.’

‘But the incident in Antioch, when you found Albray—’

Lillet was shaking her head. There was no need for me to finish the sentence as she obviously knew where my accusation was leading. ‘He was only protecting me from myself and had already warned me that he would do so. Do you not recall his prediction after consuming the Highward Fire-Stone?’

I had read so much today that I had trouble recalling this part of her story. Lillet refreshed my memory.

‘Our love shall never be realised,’ he told me. He went on to say that he realised that if I submitted to my feelings for him, it would destroy everything I had worked my whole life to achieve. He also said that he would take steps to curtail his feelings. The way he sabotaged our relationship that night made it easy for me to shun him and any feelings I might have been entertaining regarding him. Albray knew that I would seek him that night and had I found him alone, I would have surely forsaken the sacred vows of my order.’

‘And would that have been such a bad thing?’ I asked her.

‘In retrospect,’ Lillet paused and smiled briefly, ‘I think not. However, at the time, I feel sure I would have regretted forsaking the ideals I held sacred for one night of passion. Such a moment of weakness would have caused me to question my worthiness to continue the sacred quest I had been assigned. Our feelings for each other were a threat to our goal and the clarity bestowed by the Highward Fire-Stone substance made Albray realise this.’

Her understanding stemmed from more than idle speculation; there was an authority in her statements that only came from true awareness. Did death award each soul complete knowledge of all the errors made in their life? That theory would certainly explain the difference between the knight I had come to know as Albray, and the knight that Lillet had known.

‘Albray has not changed so much,’ Lillet informed me, perceiving my inner thoughts as readily as the questions I verbalised. ‘It is only my perception of him that has changed. He was always as gallant and loyal as he is now, but because I distrusted him, most of his heroism went unrealised by myself until it was too late.’ Again Lillet turned away from me to restrain her feelings of regret and hurt.

‘You were the death of him?’ I had remembered another of Albray’s predictions, recorded in Lillet’s writings.

She nodded. ‘Had I been capable of caring for another human being more than myself, I might have seen the truth of my situation, but as it was I didn’t have any doubt that Molier was the true guide sent to me by Marie de Saint-Clair. It wasn’t until we finally reached the temple ruins in the Sinai that the penny finally dropped.’

Our caravan scaled the rocky mount of Serâbit el-Khâdim slowly. Camels may not have been as accommodating as horses, but they were the transport for the obscure route we had chosen. We had followed the King’s Road down the inland side of the Dead Sea, and turned at Kerak into the desert wilderness to cut across country to Nekhl at the top of the Sinai. From Nekhl, only the Bedouins knew the route to the ruined temple of Hathor on Mt
Serâbit, which was the reported place of origin of my treasure.

The story I’d been taught was that after Hugh de Payens discovered the Covenant, hidden in a vault complex beneath the Temple of Jerusalem during the first crusade, he also found documentation regarding a second Ark. This was hidden deep in the Sinai at the original mount where both Arks had been fashioned. The temple complex of Serâbit el-Khâdim was dedicated to the Egyptian goddess Hathor, who the secret orders would later refer to as ‘The Gold Beneath the Gods and the Electron beneath the Goddesses’—code for the protector of the temple of the Fire-Stone vial and the Highward Fire-Stone vial. A mission was launched by the knights under de Payens’ command to seek out this Star-Fire temple and secure the second Ark. The knights uncovered the secret passage, and even discovered the key to unlocking the Star-Fire complex in the ruined temple of Hathor above the passage. The men sustained heavy losses when many of them attempted to enter the underground complex without a woman to lead them in. Word was sent back to de Payens in Jerusalem of his knights’ failure to enter the temple. A high priestess of my order and bloodline, Lilith del Aquae, who had travelled to the Holy City to aid in decoding the ancient scrolls beneath the temple in Jerusalem, volunteered to make the journey to the Sinai. She led the knights into the complex. In her presence the knights were able to penetrate the lower complex without falling victim to an invisible sonic burst that emanated from deep within the temple and literally knocked the life out of any man who attempted to descend the entrance path without a female in his company. It was discovered that a lever,
just beyond the lower temple entrance, needed to be engaged to flood the pits in the outer chamber with a flammable liquid to stop the beetles from gaining access. Once the pits of the outer chamber of the temple were set ablaze, paths could be followed to the two side chambers. One of these housed the Star vial and the other contained the Fire vial, both of which could only be removed by the priestess. There was one other door that lay directly opposite the entrance of the outer temple chamber, and this was opened by placing the two vials in the carved spaces alongside the massive golden doors.

An inscription warned that no mortal man must enter the Ark chamber, but the knights of de Payens ignored the warning, instructing the priestess to open the doors. All the men who witnessed the opening of this chamber were said to have perished in a blaze of light. When the priestess emerged to confront the remaining members of the company of knights, she advised them that the second Ark had been discovered but would not be moved from its resting place—given that any man who tried to enter would die.

The door to the secret temple complex was again sealed and buried in dirt and sand. The knights left for Jerusalem with the keys to the Ark chamber in the safekeeping of Lilith del Aquae. Their party was ambushed by Arab assassins, who killed the priestess during the attack, along with most of the knights. But these Arab defenders of the Star-Fire Temple did not succeed in capturing the vials. One knight escaped and took the vials to de Payens in Jerusalem. It was decided that the keys should be transported back to Languedoc to my sacred order for safekeeping. The Order of Sion may not have
gained possession of the second Ark, but as long as my order held the keys, nobody else could utilise the Ark’s great destructive powers either.

As we neared our destination, I was sick with worry about how I would open the gateway to the complex we sought, given that Devere still had possession of the Star vial. Secretly, I was hoping that he was pursuing our party—the Star vial alone was useless to him, as the Fire vial alone was to us. Ideally, he would be captured before Molier’s knights had a chance to fully excavate the gateway. Failing this, I knew from the legend I had been taught that there was a supply of the sacred Star substance hidden somewhere in the ruined Temple of Hathor. Perhaps I could discover it before I was forced to confess that Devere had stolen the Star vial from me? Molier and his knights would not be at all amused if they discovered we’d travelled through harsh desert conditions only to be unable to enter the temple. Even if we did manage to open the complex, returning only one of the vials would not complete my quest. What the hell had I been thinking, to not tell Molier the truth back in Antioch?

It was mid-afternoon when we had finally ascended the mount and arrived at the ruins of Hathor, and the sun was at its blistering best. As was usual for the Sinai, there was barely a cloud in the sky. To our great surprise and trepidation the circular gateway to the Star-Fire Temple was not only exposed, but also open! I recognised the gateway from the descriptions in the legends of Lilith del Aquae. They had been told to me many times, so that I would always remember them.

Somebody had reached the site before us, but only I suspected who that somebody was—my
relief was as great as my foreboding. Yet, even if Devere had managed to open the gate he could not have entered without a woman in his company—unless, of course, he had found a Bedouin female to oblige him. When last I had seen him, he had certainly charmed at least one local female.

The notion made me incredibly angry, or was I just jealous that another woman had had the pleasure of assisting in the completion of his quest? Travelling with Molier had been very uneventful and I was grateful for the respect he and his men had shown me, but the truth was I did miss the thrill of Devere’s intoxicating company.

Molier was immediately on his guard. Of the forty knights in our company, he sent half further up the mount, where only a few remnants of the Temple of Hathor protruded out of the solid dirt terrain. It was allegedly a huge complex in ancient times. Behind the few partially exposed stone pillars bearing ancient hieroglyphs was a large rocky mound where a force might hide in ambush.

‘Word has it that the order of Melchi assassins who murdered Lilith del Aquae are as active and vigilant today as they ever were, so we can’t be too careful,’ Molier explained. ‘They, too, want what we have.’ He motioned me toward the open gateway. ‘So, if you will lead the way, I’ll have the rest of my men stay close to you in case any intruders have entered before us.’

Molier ordered our Bedouin guides to stay and watch over the camels and they appeared more than content to do so.

There was a steep path, glimmering red, which led down into the shrine. The path was part of a long round tunnel covered with hieroglyphs.

‘It’s solid gold!’ commented one of the knights, holding a torch up and illuminating the passageway as he trailed Molier and myself down the smooth red path.

‘I’d like to know what all these hieroglyphs say,’ stated another, who sounded more fearful than inspired.

‘They speak of the Council of Goddesses for whom this temple was built, over which Hathor—the goddess of the Desert Mountains of the Dead, goddess of Fertility and She Who Shines—resides,’ I informed them, glancing over the ancient language, the learning of which was part of the earliest teachings of my order. ‘It warns that this is an ancient feminine space and that the council will only meet in the field of
Mfkzt
with the daughters of Isis.’