The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy) (3 page)

‘The name Levi is derived from the Latin word meaning “light”, as are the words “levitate” and “levitation”. The name has a more ancient association with the Priests of Levi—the designated guardians of the Ark of the Covenant. According to written descriptions, the Ark weighed over a ton and, as it was reportedly lifted on two wooden shafts by only four men, it is suspected that levitational powers were employed.’

This was the insight that Lord Malory had awarded me some seventeen years ago, when my eldest son, barely three years of age at the time, had informed my husband and myself that his name was not Thomas—as he’d been named after my father. Our son insisted that his name was Levi.

The moment Lord Malory informed me of the history of my three-year-old son’s unusual choice of name for himself, I had immediately realised why it was so appropriate.

My journey to Sinai had been motivated by the dying wish of my dear Lord Hereford, the man I almost married. The day before his unexpected death, he entrusted me with a vial filled with a remarkable gravity-defying substance known to the ancients as
Thummim-Schethiya,
the Highward Fire-Stone, the Star. Hereford’s dying wish was that the vial be returned to its place of origin, a mount named Serabit in Sinai, where he had once led an archaeological dig in his younger days. During the journey I discovered that the smallest dose of the vial’s contents temporarily boosted my psychic powers considerably, enabling me to accomplish impossible feats. I’d taken several doses of the Star substance before I discovered that I was pregnant with Levi. The Star vial had also proven to be one of two keys that unlocked one of the two Arks that had been fashioned on Mount Serabit.

With so many subtle connections to the East and the Ark, it was plain to me that Levi’s choice of name was far more apt than he could possibly have realised as an infant.

Levi was on my mind during the carriage ride between Malory’s city abode in London’s West End and our own. I knew that the moment my eldest child found out that I was considering another epic voyage to the East, he would do all within his power to ensure that he accompanied me. And Levi
would
find out.

I suspected that my son was more psychically nimble than I, and I am considered to be the foremost psychic in the country by those in the know who value such insight as I can provide. However, I taught Levi from a young age not to divulge the extent of his talents to anyone, including his father and myself.

Levi had always had a strong fascination for the Holy Land and Egypt. Although a fellowship at Cambridge in ancient languages had postponed his dream of travelling there, our son was more familiar with the languages, history, myths and geography of the Holy Lands than he was with their English equivalent. I was fairly sure that although my husband would protest me taking up this quest, he would never forbid me to go. Whether my dear Lord Devere was going to allow our son to toss away his fellowship in order to go adventuring with me was quite another matter.

We were in London for the Easter holiday and I expected Levi’s arrival at our London residence in St James some time tomorrow afternoon. That gave me a day to broach the subject of my journey with my husband, before Levi began complicating the issue. Upon my arrival home I was gratified to find myself at liberty. Our butler, Tibbs, informed me that my two daughters were out visiting their cousins in Hyde Park, and that my youngest son had accompanied his father into town. I requested tea in the library and there I sat, holding Lord Malory’s gift in my hand. One half of me was excited by the prospect of reading something my mother had penned, as we had never been very close. The other half of me recoiled at the thought of revisiting that dark time in my life, for although I had dealt with many of the emotional aspects and horrid memories of that episode, it was still prone to upset me.

‘Well, better to be upset now, in private, than to waste my energy wondering about the contents of this envelope.’ I broke the seal and opened the document, which was a few pages in length.

The account began solemnly.

I am dying of anguish and guilt. History will applaud my crime against my family as an integral part of human evolution and thus I shall be blameless and deemed a saint. I feel that I can sympathise with how Our Lady Mary must have felt as she witnessed her child’s crucifixion, for her life and mine have many parallels.

My daughter has been committed to a mental asylum and there is naught I can do to save her, unless I confess my infidelity to my husband. In retrospect, I am so ashamed of my seduction at the hands of an angel on the night I wed my Lord Suffolk that I cannot bring myself to speak of it. Thus I shall confess all on this paper, that I might give it to my lord and convince him that our daughter is not to blame for her psychic attributes. I am to blame.

My certainty stems from knowing that ancient blood runs through my family line, which has flowed down from the Dragon Queens of the Ancient East and through the ages to me via my Pictish foremothers. The Dragon Queens are said to have been the consorts of angels, whose offspring ensured human bodies fit for an angel to inhabit. Even with the strictest intermarriage laws, the bloodline has become diluted through the aeons, and so every now and then a female of the Dragon bloodline mates, on a spiritual level, with one of these angelic beings. The issue from this union reintroduces the angelic genetic material into the human genetic code, whereby angels can continue to reincarnate into human form and instigate the ground work for the evolution of our species.

As Ashlee is the issue of such an event, she may well be an angel incarnate, as will be many who descend from her. This explains her superhuman abilities and her diverse interests.

I am not insane. I would prefer insanity, for the condition would mean that I had not lied to my husband for all these years and my daughter would be as carefree as other girls her age. My judgement was swayed by the extensive greatness of the plan for humanity…I felt small and insignificant and submitted to it. The older members of my family, whom I respected and trusted implicitly, were the masterminds of my indiscretion. What would have become of me had I rejected their design? Not that I had warning of the event, any more than my dear husband did; I learned what I know of our family secret during and after the rite.

My wedding began as most marriages of privilege do: with a church ceremony and a lavish breakfast with family and friends. This took place at the Granville estate in Suffolk. The match of Lord Suffolk and myself was greatly welcomed by our peers, and at the time I knew not the full reason why. I suspect now that my Lord Suffolk had been inducted into the secret knighthood to which my male relatives belong; in which case, my husband-to-be would have been offered some insight into the mysteries of the bloodline we share—his family line more distantly than my own.

After the celebrations, when most newlyweds would head off on their honeymoon, Lord Suffolk and I were encouraged to delay our departure until the morrow. Come evening, many of our more honoured guests were yet to depart and so my husband indulged his male associates with drinks, whilst I was led away to prepare for my wedding night, which my mother and her remaining female guests insisted on overseeing.

I had expected that my female companions would leave me to await my husband. Instead, I was
stripped naked, shrouded in a hooded robe of deep red and led out into the woodland to a clearing where a huge old oak tree stood. Here I was instructed to await my lord, and all but my mother returned to the house.

‘Mama?’ I asked her for an explanation, as it was coming on to nightfall and the strange choice of location for my first union with my husband made me feel exposed and anxious.

‘You are safe here,’ Mama assured me. ‘Your lord will join you presently.’

I watched her depart through the encroaching night shadows of the wood, and when I turned back to move further into the clearing I noticed a light coming from within the huge hollow of the oak tree—the entrance of which was high enough for a fullgrown man to enter standing upright. At first the source appeared to be a large ball of pure light, which, although brilliant, did not hurt my eyes. I stood paralysed in awe as the ball unfolded into the form of an extremely tall and beautiful man, whom I could see straight through. The figure was completely white, thus it was impossible to discern nationality or colouring.

A ghost! My conclusion struck terror into my heart, but before I had time to consider a retreat, the handsome apparition looked to me and I was immediately calmed and enchanted by his gaze.

‘Who are you?’ I asked, timidly taking a few steps nearer to get a closer look at him. His features were rather elongated, his eyes very large, his hair long, and his ears came to a point at the top—like a pixie’s.

The figure smiled and all my cares departed for a beautiful, fleeting second.

‘My Lady Suffolk?’

I heard my husband call to me from beyond the entrance into the large tree hollow. My panic returned and I ran to him.

‘My lady, praise God!’ my husband exclaimed when he saw me coming towards him in the moonlight. ‘I think I have been drugged!’ He stumbled as he spoke.

I put out my arms to support him.‘Why do you think so?’

‘All my senses are extremely acute.’ He frowned as he endeavoured to explain. ‘And I can see in the dark! There’s brilliant colour in everything!’ He waved an arm about, motioning to the woodland around us, and then looked back to me. ‘You…’ He staggered backwards, amazed by what he beheld. ‘You look like an
angel.’

I was amused and flattered by his observation, until I realised it was not me he was pointing at but the figure that now stood alongside us.

‘An angel…’ My lord’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and his body began to collapse towards the ground. As he fell, the spirit dispersed into lightmatter, which rushed into my husband’s body. Inches from the ground, his descent stopped and his body righted itself to a standing position.

My lord’s eyes remained closed, so I brushed a hand against his cheek to wake him. His lids raised to reveal eyes that glowed intensely. The shock of seeing the angel’s presence inside my husband caused me to withdraw, but he clutched my hands to gently delay me. His touch was magnetic and altogether calming. His lips gently enfolded my own and I allowed my lord to pull my body closer. It felt as if my entire self was being injected with wave after
wave of euphoria. At some level I knew the physical act of sexual intercourse was taking place, yet the subtle energy transfer was so overwhelming and intense that I remember little of losing my virginity. I recall my consciousness shooting through the universe in a blissfully hyper-aware state for a time, yet I was compelled to rejoin my body as I reached a point of sexual climax.

So now you see how guilty I am.

Ashlee, however, is a unique being who is too integral to humanity to spend her life imprisoned. There must be another solution to be found, where her talents may be nurtured, understood and put to good use. Why else is she here? On threat of banishment from my home and family, I pray that my lord can forgive my deceit long enough to consider this plea for mercy.

I was more shocked by the claims in this document than those I had read in the ancient translation in Malory’s library earlier that afternoon. I considered that if Malory had not read this account, then his gift to me was a startling coincidence when one considered the similarities between the two texts.

Obviously Mama had never given this letter to Papa, as he had been persuaded by my late mentor, Lady Charlotte, to release me from the asylum—which must have come as a great relief to Mama. Papa must have found this confession after Mama had passed away, and perhaps he had taken it to the Grand Master of the secret knighthood—which he’d abandoned shortly after his wedding night—to confront him with the contents. I could really only speculate as to how the document had ended up in the archives of the Sangreal Knighthood; of more
concern to me was the esoteric implication of Mama’s confession.

Father had complained of feeling drugged the night of his wedding, and I knew that for my father’s psychic senses to have been heightened enough to see my mother’s aura and an angelic being, he must have been fed Star-Fire. But where would the brotherhood have acquired the otherworldly substance? Legend had it that the otherworldly race the Nefilim were the master producers of Star-Fire, which seemed to imply that the Sangreal brotherhood was still acquainted with the Nefilim and was supplied by them. Or perhaps the knights had acquired the knowledge to produce their own Star-Fire. Of greater interest to me was my mother’s claim that I was of the bloodline of the Dragon Queens, about whom I knew nothing.

A knock on the library door startled me. I folded the document and hid it inside the nearest book. ‘Enter.’

Part of me was delighted when Levi joined me in the library, for my mother’s account was disturbing and I was pleased for the distraction. On the other hand, Levi’s early arrival was a nuisance in so far as my travel plans were concerned.

‘I thought I might find you in here,’ he said with a large smile on his face.

I suspected that my son already knew about my pending journey. Unlike me, Levi did not need to be in a person’s close vicinity to know their thoughts; he had a knack of plucking any information he desired from the stratosphere, as easily as others selected flowers from a garden. I wondered why his arrival had not been announced.

‘I did not expect you until tomorrow.’ I moved to greet my tall, handsome lad—as blond as his father
but with not even the hint of my waves or my Lord Devere’s curls.