Isabella's Heiress (15 page)

Father Eamon closed his eyes and breathed in the fresh air that had been denied to him by the twilight plane he had just left. Laid out in front of his eyes was a vista of spotless marble colonnades, green fields and low hanging clouds. This was a place of stillness and contemplation. It was the domain of his masters, the Cordoban Council.

Father Eamon entered a covered walkway and headed towards the door at the far end. He had spent the last few hours thinking through the events that had taken place in Crispin Street, running through every scenario in his head as to how the streetlights had exploded. Maybe they hadn't been the only ones there. Perhaps, he thought, someone had been watching and had waited for Emma to lose her temper before breaking the lights. He knew this to be implausible and had dismissed it out of hand. Had anybody been in the area observing them? Impossible, he would have known about it a mile away. Perhaps there had been an electrical surge just at that moment. Possible he admitted to himself, but unlikely in the extreme. The only reason he could come up with was that Emma had somehow caused the bulbs to explode in her rage. It wasn't a thought that gave him a great deal of comfort.

Clouds drifted past, momentarily obscuring the royal
blue sky. They drifted through the columns that lined either side of the passage and hung lazily in the air, before evaporating as Father Eamon walked through them. The door opened and a fresh face appeared round the side.

“Father Eamon, please come in. He will be with you soon. May I get you anything whilst you wait?”

“Thank you, no.”

Walking through the door Father Eamon placed his coat on the rack immediately to his left before being ushered into a large circular room. Around him were bookcases which extended from the floor to the ceiling and a brass handled ladder which was attached to a runner at the top, its polished finish reflecting the light streaming through eight large windows, encased in gold and set into the thick outer wall. They stretched from one side of the room to the other and were it not for the steps leading to an upper floor on his right, would have reached both ends of the bookshelf.

“He will be along soon. My most sincere apologies, Father, it is most unlike him to be late for anything but your request was such short notice and the urgency in your voice unsettled him.

“I must say, it isn't often that he entertains people on a whim.”

Father Eamon looked over and the man-boy in front of him immediately lowered his eyes to the floor. He was barely out of his teens with olive skin, smooth black hair and dark green eyes.

“What is your name?”

“Giulio, father.” The voice was wavering and uncertain.

“Look at me Giulio, there is no reason to look at the floor.”

Giulio raised his head but his eyes flitted nervously around the room, unable to centre on Father Eamon.

“I can assure you, Giulio, I am not in the habit of calling meetings on a whim either, now let me have my peace so I can think whilst I wait for him.”

The boy left the room, closing the door behind him whilst Father Eamon walked to the window. He looked out onto an endless sky. This was where it all ended. This tower, the cliffs it sat on and the battlements running for miles on both sides were the final bastion. Beyond it laid an infinite nothingness. In a few hours, it would get dark and not even the brightest light would be able to penetrate it and then they would wait for the day to come.

As he contemplated this and the previous day's events, he heard a creak above him. Father Eamon turned to see a man slowly negotiating the steps by the bookcase. He got to the floor and turned, adjusting his brown robes to stop them dragging along the carpet. The man had white hair, which was thinning on top, and his skin was the texture of parchment but his eyes were alive and sharp.

“So, Eamon, to what do I owe this unexpected visit? It is not often we have the pleasure of your presence these days.”

Father Eamon broke into a smile and went over and hugged the old man. “Brother Ugo, it is good to see you. I have been away working for the council for some time now.”

“Yes, yes I heard. I heard all about the incident in Paris as well.” A disapproving look from the mystic showed he was less than impressed.

“Well, unfortunately I was left with no choice; under the circumstance I couldn't do anything else.”

“Hmm…that was the verdict of the council; still it would have been nice to see the relic though. There are so few of them left.” Brother Ugo sighed as he shuffled over to a pair of chairs that sat by a writing desk and turned
one around. He motioned to Father Eamon to sit in the second chair.

“Now tell me why you feel the need to wake an old man from his sleep in the early hours, Eamon.”

Father Eamon leant back in the seat and stared into space as he thought how best to start. The man in front of him may have been old but he was also a legend, famous for his insights and he knew that any deviation from the truth would be picked up in an instant. Not that he wanted to lie to him but he wasn't sure how much of what he had seen he wanted to divulge.

“I am currently guiding an initiate.”

Brother Ugo's eyes narrowed and he straightened in his seat. “It has been a while since you have done that.”

“Indeed. But this is no ordinary initiate. The council feel that she may be…special.”

“In what way?”

“Can't you guess?”

Brother Ugo groaned, “They think she is her?”

“Yes. I was sent to disprove it.”

“And you have seen something which makes you doubt your own scepticism?”

“Yes.”

“Before we go any further, I must know. You are guiding this girl honestly yes? You are not letting your other role get in the way?”

“I am guiding her to the best of my ability.”

“Then she is luckier than she could possibly know. Now tell me what happened that you felt the need to call on an old man?”

Father Eamon spent the next hour going through the events of the previous night. When he was done, he looked at Brother Ugo to see what his reaction would be.

Brother Ugo for his part listened impassively whilst Father Eamon relayed his story. When it was finished, he said nothing. Instead he sat quietly looking at the floor, his hands steepled in front of his nose.

“Interesting, most interesting. How long has she been in the sanctuary?”

“Nearly seven months.”

“And you haven't taught her how to transfer her energy between planes?”

“We were just starting that night but even if I had, what she did can barely be done by most guides let alone initiates.”

“Indeed, indeed.” Brother Ugo went quiet again before looking up at Father Eamon “What do we know of her family? Are there any clues in her background?”

“None that we can see. Her father is a lawyer, her mother a secretary. We have gone back ten generations in her family. There is nothing to indicate that she might be descended from anything other than normal stock.”

“What makes the council feel that she might be the one then?”

“She died at the equinox, at the exact time of the disappearance. Her resemblance, I have to admit is, uncanny and there were…portents.”

“Ah, the council and their portents.” The old man smiled “And what do you think? Do you believe the portents?”

“I believe that there are people in the council who take it very seriously and would act accordingly.”

Brother Ugo frowned, “That would be rash indeed. I see why you were sent. I needn't ask which members of the council are pushing this.”

Father Eamon nodded, “This is different, it is the usual members but they have managed to convince others that
they are right. Also, I believe that word has got to Newgate about what we think. The Cado Angelus are sending agents out abroad.”

Brother Ugo didn't react to this but Father Eamon knew that he was now listening more intently. “What makes you think this?”

“She was attacked almost immediately after she had passed over. Were it not for the fact that I got to her when I did, she would have been taken.”

Brother Ugo leant forward. “They were willing to take such a risk? In full knowledge of the repercussions? This is most interesting, and worrying. They must believe that this girl has something about her as well.”

Father Eamon nodded, “They read the books and know the stories as well as us. They have come to the same conclusion.”

“And what does the girl know of all this?”

Father Eamon let out a small sigh. “She is aware of the stories. I have tried to shield her from all this but, alas, in that I have failed. Her task is onerous enough and she does not need any more distractions.

“There is something else that concerns me; the trial was set months before it should have been. There seems to be an indecent haste in that.”

Brother Ugo nodded, “Indeed but it makes sense. The council know that the longer they leave this girl exposed, the more chance there is of her falling to the others. If she fails then that cannot be helped but they have shown that they are willing to break the rules for her. That has never happened before, at least not on this scale. I can only assume that the council have decided to take a calculated risk in doing this.”

Both the men turned as the door flew open and a very flustered Giulio ran in.

“Brother Ugo, I am sorry, I tried to stop him from entering but…”

Father Unwin was two steps behind Giulio. He stopped in the doorway and looked over to where Father Eamon and Brother Ugo sat.

Brother Ugo's eyes narrowed. “Leave us, Giulio.”

Giulio hurried out of the room, avoiding any eye contact with the priest behind him who for his part shot a look of disdain his way before turning his attention back to the two men sitting in the corner.

“Father Eamon, I had heard you were here. Your presence is required by the Cordoban Council immediately.”

Father Eamon turned to face the new entrant “Father Unwin, always a pleasure.”

Father Unwin sneered. He looked around the room before looking back.

“You may mock me all you want but do not keep the Council waiting.”

Father Eamon looked back to Brother Ugo, raising his eyebrows. “It seems my presence is required elsewhere.”

“Of course, dear boy, go, go but should you ever need my council, then my door is always open.” The words were delivered in a whisper and earned a nod in appreciation.

Father Eamon got up and headed towards the door. If Father Unwin had been expecting him to stop when he reached him then he was to be disappointed, Father Eamon brushed past him and headed out into the corridor.

“Well, Father Unwin, we should not keep the Council waiting, would you not agree?”

Father Eamon heard a quiet growl behind him and allowed himself a small smile before heading across the walkway.

The two men walked up a set of steps cut into the chalk cliff face and headed out over battlements that jutted out
over the drop.

“Disgusting old sodomite. I don't know why the council tolerates him.”

“The Council
tolerates
him because he is older, wiser and better read than any other mystic. He has seen things that you and I have only read about and understands more than we could possibly hope to comprehend. What he may or may not have been during life is nothing to do with either you or me.”

“That's as maybe but to give him that boy as an assistant.”

“That boy is neither here nor there. All that should concern you, Unwin, is that Brother Ugo is given all the help he needs, particularly now.”

Father Unwin grunted and carried on walking. They headed inland and entered the city, heading towards the centre where a green hill rose into the clouds. Around them, people went about their business, oblivious to the two priests as they walked by.

The city was a head-on collision of different styles, marble colonnades with Corinthian columns sitting alongside large landscaped gardens. Huge steps led up to massively outsize buildings, created in the Greco-roman style, their palisades and columns dwarfing all who entered, whilst through the middle ran a wide, smooth river.

In the centre of all this were two bridges. They were parallel to each other; one for walking north, one for walking south and in the middle of each was a drawbridge with a small tower on each corner. The bridges opened onto huge piazzas at either end, each of which had a giant obelisk in the centre and large stucco buildings on the outside providing a semi-circular border.

Father Eamon and Father Unwin crossed over, heading north.

“What is your opinion of this girl?”

“That is something for the council's ears only but I will say that this is more complicated than expected.”

Father Unwin perked up at this. “So you think that there is a chance that she is…”

“Father Unwin, you should know better than to discuss council business in the open. I have said too much already.”

They were surrounded by people on both sides and Father Eamon had no desire to talk about this until he could be sure that he was not going to be overheard. They headed off the bridge and onto the piazza.

The square was filled with people going about their business. From togas to T-shirts, they were dressed in clothes from all the ages.

Father Eamon slowed down as he walked, taking in the scene.

“Father Eamon, I must insist we do not keep the Council waiting any longer. They are most impatient to hear your report.”

“Of course, forgive me.”

He took one last look around before following Father Unwin into a side street that led up to a square. This one wasn't as opulent as the piazza but was still surrounded by covered walkways. There were wide avenues entering onto the square on each side and they turned into the one on the left. Tall gaslights stood in front of flat bricked regency houses. Beyond the lights narrow side streets ran off in to the darkness. Father Eamon and Father Ugo turned into one that was so narrow; they had to walk in single file.