Ghostwriting (32 page)

‘No wonder you wanted to drop me down a hole.' Preston was very sympathetic, suddenly. ‘I don't expect the brothers have really matured that much since your time, Tristan.' The entity inside Logan only grunted in response as Preston squatted down beside him, eager to see what the chest contained. ‘Did you open the chest when you first dug it up?' he wondered.

‘I did,' Tristan confirmed and then looked at Preston to grin broadly, ‘and I was amazed by what I found.' He turned the key and the padlock fell open. Once he removed this, Karita edged closer, eager to see what was inside. Still, she kept a little distance between her and the men, not wanting to disturb the male bonding session taking place.

‘Behold, the Philosopher's Stone.' Tristan opened the chest and the sharp burst of golden light blinded all present momentarily. He then took the tall glass pyramid in hand. The pyramid had a frame of gold that extended past the base of the pyramid to become legs, forming a tripod. The metalwork was beautifully engraved with the ancient motif of the Rose Cross.

‘But that doesn't look like a stone at all. Or a key,' Karita mumbled, her eyes mesmerised by the light and the tiny sparkling particles that danced about within the confines of the glass.

‘The Philosopher's Stone is what lays inside, lass,' Tristan enlightened her. ‘Those tiny particles of gold you see are pure divine light … “the fountain of eternal life”.'

‘This is far more remarkable than the ancient doctrine that spoke of it,' Preston said, completely overawed by the energies emanating from the piece. ‘You were right to keep this hidden.'

Actually, Tristan was surprised that Preston hadn't snatched it from him by now. ‘Time to return it to the Master then.'

Preston nodded to agree, whereupon he and Tristan both stood up. A loud crack was heard, and as the ground gave way beneath them, both men dropped into the earth.

Karita was close enough and fast enough to grab Preston around the upper arm and stop his
fall, but as he had hold of Tristan's wrist which clutched the glowing source of wonder, Karita found herself struggling to hold the weight of the two men. She managed to drag Preston's upper body out of the pit, and he got a foothold on a rotted piece of wood.

‘Karita, can you grab the the golden tripod from Logan?' Preston strained to keep hold of Logan's wrist, although his grip was slipping. The sound of the heavy chest hitting the bottom of the pit, made them all realise how deep the shaft was.

‘Not without letting you go, and if you lose your foothold …' Karita knew there was only one way. ‘Drop the damn treasure, Tristan, and pull yourself up or your great-grandson is going die!'

‘If I drop the treasure, then I am cursed for all time,' he protested. ‘I can't take another century in limbo!'

‘I'm losing you, buddy.' Preston couldn't believe he was actually going to allow the priceless treasure to be destroyed. Preston could have let Logan go and grabbed the golden tripod that was the key to the House of the Holy Spirits, but he just couldn't bring himself to put the acquisition of knowledge before a human life. ‘The first cause of the Masters is service, Tristan … no Master will commend you for murder.'

‘I have done my service,' Tristan cried out stubbornly.

Karita was feeling torn up herself, although it was probably more from strain than sentiment. ‘With a pure heart and pure intentions you are as powerful as I AM, that's what the Master said,' Karita yelled out in desperation. ‘Damn it, Tristan, let your bloody curse go!'

In a moment of pure abandon, Tristan tossed the glowing jewel into the void and gripped hold of Preston's hand. Karita aided Preston, who hauled Logan up behind him and all three adventurers collapsed on secure ground, puffing and moaning in the wake of the close call.

The key was heard smashing to smithereens at the bottom of the old shaft. Karita rolled over and propped her head on one hand to say reassuringly to the man who was occupying the body alongside her: ‘You did the right thing, Tristan … and even if the Master is not proud of you, I am.' A kiss was his reward.

‘Miss Torelle … I didn't know you cared,' he replied with a grin.

Karita sat bolt upright, as it was not Tristan she'd kissed, but Logan. She could tell by his accent. ‘Where's Tristan?' She stood up, concerned for him.

‘Tristan?' She called, as she turned in circles searching. ‘Tristan!'

 

The ghost tried to reassure her but his accomplice could no longer see him, or hear him, and Tristan
feared that the powers-that-be had abandoned him once more. Then he noted a light-filled mist rising from the hole that had nearly claimed the lives of his company. Karita, Logan and Preston didn't appear to be aware of the occurrence, so it had to be otherworldly.

Master?
Tristan mumbled, as the mist suddenly split into four lines. They spread out in separate directions from the pit and, after some distance, the misty lines shot upwards to form huge, transparent, light-filled walls.
The House of the Holy Spirits,
he decided, as elaborate and impossible architecture began to take form within the light mass. The outside world almost vanished, replaced by a dreamlike place of great celestial majesty. Tristan could vaguely make out the forms of his colleagues still occupying their space in the physical world.

‘Tristan … please answer me?' Karita begged. ‘I just need to know you're okay.'

Tristan's attention was drawn to the semi-circle of beings slowly manifesting before him. As with the Chapter of the Brotherhood to which he had once belonged, he saw twelve Masters, their identities concealed by the hoods of their robes. The central figure, whose face was open to view, Tristan recognised. ‘Master.' He bowed his head reverently, most relieved to see him.

‘You finally got yourself here.' The Master came
forward to greet Tristan. ‘Selflessness will do it every time.'

‘But the Philosopher's Stone was destroyed? I failed in my mission to return it to you for safekeeping?' Tristan wondered why the Master was so pleased with him.

‘Oh, I don't know,' the Master assured him, ‘I'd say our secret is safe enough now.'

‘So, I am to stay with you, my Master?' Tristan approached the being, who was more spirit than body, eager to know if he had broken his curse.

‘Yes, Tristan.' The Master was overjoyed to put Tristan's soul to rest on that count. ‘But, part of you will remain in the physical world with Preston Molay.'

‘Do you refer to Karita?' Tristan wondered if the Master was referring to the fact that he'd lost his heart to the woman.

The Lord shook his head, repressing his amusement at Tristan's assumption. ‘When you cut yourself off from us, Tristan, having suffered much for the cause, we decided to send an incarnation of yourself to you. He would motivate you to complete your quest and by so doing, you would return to us. Meanwhile your current incarnation could aid in exposing the ancient knowledge that you were destined to bring to light in your lifetime as Tristan de Scott.'

Tristan approached the vague impression of Preston Molay, who was attempting to calm Karita
in the wake of Tristan's disappearance. ‘But why Preston?' Tristan wondered. ‘Why not Logan, my great-grandson?'

‘Because Preston is the one who gets the girl,' the Master replied cheekily, to shock his student.

‘What?' Tristan felt a twinge of jealousy.

‘These things are planned very carefully … although even the best laid plans will go astray if wrong decisions are made by the individual,' the Master tactfully explained. ‘Logan still bears the family stigma that the Brotherhood placed on your line over a century ago. Even though Logan inherited your psychic adeptness, he is still ruled by his negative ego. He can only channel information from the lower planes of awareness and thus has been of little use to us. Therefore, it was decided that it would be best to allow you to incarnate into a powerful family far removed from your curse. With no memory of that past shame, a shame you never deserved, you have become the wise and just man you were always destined to become.'

‘But how could my soul have incarnated, when I have been trapped in that house for a century?' Tristan liked what he was hearing as it meant that all that time had not been wasted.

‘Only this small fragment of yourself has been trapped.' The Master turned and motioned to one of the hooded beings amongst the Brotherhood. ‘The true essence of you never left us.'

The figure to whom the Master gestured dropped his hood. The being in question didn't appear like Tristan or Preston, but had traces of both men in his form and face — as if he had fathered both men, which, of course, this soul had. Recognising himself in the Master before him, Tristan's form broke up into light matter which was sucked back into its source. As Tristan's soul-mind rejoined its higher self, the angelic being smiled serenely and with new and higher understanding, he stepped forward to speak with the Master further. ‘So Preston is to be your new channel, Master?'

‘Actually, I have recently taken a new apprentice who is working out rather nicely.' The Master looked at Karita and smiled.

This was a revelation for Tristan. ‘So it was not I who mused Karita into painting “The Lost Word” at all, it was you?'

‘Actually,' the Master corrected, ‘it was Karita herself.'

Another of the hooded figures in the circle of twelve revealed herself and Tristan smiled, recognising traces of the woman who had held his affection for the past few years in the Goddess-like woman who smiled serenely back at him.

‘Her future works will serve as a medium for many ancient memories and mysteries, and will trigger a higher awareness in those adepts ready to progress along the path of light.'

‘But who shall protect her from the Brotherhood if I am gone?' Tristan was concerned by the news he was receiving.

‘But you are still with her.' The Master motioned to Preston. ‘Our beloved brother shall see that her inspiring works are sold to those who will display them to the masses. And to assure her protection.' The Master motioned to Logan de Scott, who was still seated on the ground recovering from having been possessed.

‘But didn't you just say he's run by his negative ego?' Tristan knew that wasn't good.

‘Not for long,' the Master assured him. ‘Preston Molay has seen and heard enough to know that you were not a fraud and that the Brotherhood to which Logan belongs has known this all along. They have used the de Scott family stigma to keep him under their control, but once Logan discovers this, he will disassociate himself from them, reclaim his own personal power and become an excellent exponent of the righteous.'

Tristan's heart and mind were set at rest by this knowledge and he suddenly felt an amazing clarity. ‘So, the ineffable name of God — the secret word of creation — is actually this state of perfect happiness and peace that cannot be described.' He'd learnt all this before and was only now making sense of the doctrine that had been channelled to him over a century ago. ‘The triangular plate of gold on which
this word is written is the higher triad of force that is the source of creation and the heart of all cosmic doctrine, the triad that ancients called Father, Mother, God, or Will – Power, Love – Wisdom, Adaptability – Intelligence. For if one achieves these qualities in life then the Philosopher's Stone is theirs.'

The Master nodded surely. ‘So you see that you did not destroy the Philosopher's Stone after all, just a physical means to cheat the proper process. You carried the essence of this substance in your being all along. These three will eventually come to the same conclusion and sweep away the old misconceptions of legend and myth, just as you were intended to do all that time ago.'

Tristan gave the Master a sideways glance, knowing he must have been a disappointment.

‘Better late than never,' the Master smiled warmly to reassure him, ‘and you will aid me to aid them on this quest. Let it be thus.' The Master slapped his hands together and all trace of the physical world faded into the ether.

7. The Story's End?

How's that for a story?
the ghost asked her sleeping presence.

‘Hmmm …'
Karita groaned with delight.
‘It was the best yet.'

 

Karita woke to a knock on the door, feeling rather chipper after her well-needed rest. The knock on the door was repeated, and as she was still fully dressed, Karita moved to answer it. ‘Yeah … who is it?' She reached the door. ‘Hello.'

‘Are you Karita Torelle?'

‘Who wants to know?' She looked through the peephole, but couldn't see her caller's face.

‘I'm interested in a picture you've painted,' he explained. ‘The Lost Word.'

‘Oh, my God! You're the buyer?' Karita assumed.
What time is it? Have I missed the
meeting?
She inwardly panicked, as she opened the door to find a man who was not at all what she'd imagined, but familiar somehow.