Beneath the Hallowed Hill (11 page)

Glad she regained her composure in the bathhouse, Megan straightened her shoulders and knocked on the door. A young man her own age opened it and waved her in. He ushered her past a small reception room into a larger one, then closed the door behind her. A bank of windows commanded a view of the formal gardens of the complex. Columns of water from the tall fountain in the center spurted high into the air over the heads of circular beds of roses. An elegant desk with a slim communication screen atop it stood in one corner of the room. Shelves artfully arranged with scrolls, crystals, and statues covered the wall behind. Megan looked around for the Guild Mistress and found her sitting on a low divan at the other end of the room, a tall palm arching over her head like the cobra that protected one of the Indian deities. Her hair haloed her face, a translucent cloud like a dandelion gone to seed. She gestured for Megan to come closer. Green eyes looked deep into her, taking her full measure, and Megan took a step back, a cub surprised by the power of the lioness. A smile lifted the corners of the Guild Mistress’s delicate mouth, lighting up her face like the sun. Megan forgot all Thuya’s careful instructions and introduced herself, then sat down in a chair opposite the Guild Mistress’s divan. Remembering herself, she jumped back up. “I’m sorry.”

“I am Rhea.” A smile flitted across her lips. “Please sit and make yourself comfortable. I wanted to welcome you to your new home.”

Megan sat down and studied the rug.

“I understand you observed a transport today. Your arrival was well timed. Govannan will be here momentarily—”

Megan flushed a deep red that matched part of the rug’s pattern.

“—and you can tell us what you experienced. This will help us decide what you should study first.”

Before Megan could recover from this news, the door opened behind her and Govannan rushed into the room. “We have a problem. The New Knowledge Guild has already—”

Rhea cut him off with a gesture. He looked around, setting the shells in his braids jingling. “Megan,” he said in surprise.

Her face flushed again and Megan cursed her fair skin. “Sir.” She nodded at him, wishing she could disappear.

“Please have a seat.” Govannan sat and Megan moved back so a potted palm next to her chair hid her face. A trickle of water ran down her neck from her damp hair, and she wiped it off on the sleeve of her robe.

Rhea rang a small silver bell by her side and the young man came in. “Bring us some juice, please.” Govannan shifted in his chair, setting his shells off again. The assistant bowed slightly and left.

“The arrival of a new student in the Crystal Matrix Chamber is a momentous occasion, don’t you agree, Matrix Master?”

“Indeed, Guild Mistress.”

Megan wondered at their sudden formality.

Govannan looked at her. “Please tell us what you experienced during the transport.”

Megan looked at Rhea, who smiled encouragingly. “The people in the chamber formed a circle, but I felt energies running across the circle as well.”

“Yes,” Rhea said. “Were you able to figure out any of the formations?”

Megan shook her head. “It all happened so fast. When they started chanting, I saw colors and felt…” She groped for words.

“What colors did you see?” Rhea began to question her about specific parts of the ceremony, and Megan began to perceive a structure that she had missed before. Rhea asked about the patterns in the circle, the preliminary chant, the activation of the Sentinels.

The assistant arrived and handed out glasses of juice. Megan took a sip, and the combination of orange, mango and passion fruit soothed a thirst left from her soak in the hot waters that she hadn’t felt before. Refreshed, she relaxed under the Guild Mistress’s guidance. “When the huge crystal lit up, it was hard to keep track. It shook my bones. I got lost in the swirls of colors.”

Govannan nodded his head. “You’ll get used to it.”

“Did you hear any tones?” Rhea asked.

“I did.” Megan sat forward in her chair eagerly. “A note that seemed to be a part of the chant that matched—” She looked down, suddenly remembering the aching intimacy of that song.

Rhea came to her rescue. “We in the guild become accustomed to the ...” The Guild Mistress paused, searching for the right word.

“Rapport?” Govannan offered.

“Yes,” Rhea nodded at him, her eyes shining.

Megan looked from one to the other, briefly wondering about their relationship. Govannan rushed into the Guild Mistress’s office as if it were his own.

“The work we do brings our minds and hearts in close proximity,” Rhea said.

Megan’s heart sank. Of course they were lovers. Govannan was an accomplished man at the peak of his powers, the head of their division, Rhea beautiful and just as talented. Megan was an untried beginner with a hopeless schoolgirl crush.

The Guild Mistress continued. “It can be uncomfortable to feel such familiarity with people you’ve just met, but the Thirteen chose you because your energy signature completes the circle.”

“I heard it too, Megan.” Govannan’s husky voice reached into her and pebbled her flesh. She looked up at him and their eyes locked. “Welcome to the circle. We missed you.”

Megan could hardly breathe. What was he saying to her? Did she misunderstand his relationship with Rhea?

“Welcome home.” Rhea raised her juice, breaking the tension between them. Govannan reached for his drink and they all touched the rim of their glasses together.

“To the completion of the Crystal Matrix Circle,” Rhea exclaimed.

“To the Circle,” Govannan said.

“To the Circle,” Megan murmured, her eyes on him.

“Now, Govannan,” Rhea took command again, “we need to decide where she should begin her education. I have an idea, but I’d like to hear your thoughts.” Megan started to stand up, but Rhea stopped her. “This discussion is for your ears, too, my dear.”

Govannan kept his eyes on Rhea. “She is sensitive, quite perceptive. Her responses are lightening fast.”

“I agree,” the Guild Mistress said, much to Megan’s surprise.

“She needs to learn to hold her own in the midst of all the different energies. The power of the Crystal Matrix Chamber can overwhelm a new worker. She should start with less vital work…seasonal ceremonies, perhaps.” He glanced at Megan. “I think she needs to tour the power spots and do ceremony to experience a wide range of people and places. After, we can begin the special training of our own temple.”

“Exactly so. We usually see eye to eye, my friend.” Rhea turned to Megan. “It is close to Beltane, the change of seasons in the northern isles. I’m going to send you to your mother’s people first.” She reached for her bell and gave it a slight shake. Her assistant came in and stood at attention. “Megan will be leaving for Avalon tomorrow. Please prepare transport.”

“Yes, ma’am.” He turned and left.

“Thuya will help you prepare.” Govannan’s voice reached her in the midst of the swirl of her emotions. She was going to the northern isles. It was a long time dream. She would finally get to visit her mother’s homeland…for Beltane. She would be leaving the only man she wanted to explore those rites with. They said power spots, plural. Would she go elsewhere? When would she come back?

Rhea and Govannan sat beaming at her, looking as if they just gave her the best present possible. Megan looked down at her hands and tried to steady herself. How could he smile at sending her away? She arrived only yesterday. Didn’t he say—what did he say, really? She stood and looked at Rhea, avoiding Govannan’s eyes. “Thank you. I guess I’ll go get ready.”

“Your time will pass quickly, my dear.” Rhea’s face showed she felt Megan’s turmoil. “You will come home prepared for what awaits you here. You have a long life ahead of you.”

Chapter Seven

On Wednesday morning, Michael sat in a pool of gold-tinted sunlight that fell through the stained glass window on the south side of the church. Circles and squares of sky-blue, green, and scarlet decorated the pews and walls. He waited outside until the casket was sealed, not because he was squeamish, but because that was the tradition in his own family: better to remember the person as they were in life. The body was a shell, and Robert was gone…well, not exactly. He still hovered in the upper corner behind the choir, singing at the top of his…voice, Michael supposed, for he no longer possessed lungs in the strictest sense. How was it possible to properly mourn his beloved mentor when the man was having such a good time at his own funeral? Michael shifted irritably and scolded himself. Would he prefer Robert to be truly gone, to be simply a memory, as someone said at the wake?

In the family pew, Robert’s wife, Laura, dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief. His son sat stiff and proper in his black suit, his own wife clutching his hand. Robert’s daughter held her toddler on her lap. The child kept pointing to the corner that Robert hovered in and saying, “Ga Da,” probably the closest she could come to “granddaddy.” Michael hid a smile behind his hand, grateful for the confirmation.

“
Quite a bright light, isn’t she
?” Robert sent.

“
A chip off the old block
,” Michael answered, then half-joked, “
Now be quiet so I can hear the hymn
.”

Robert snorted, or at least it sounded like he did, and disappeared. He’d be back. He had been popping in and out over the last three days, his mood growing more cheerful and his light brighter with every visit.

Guy discussed it with Michael at the wake the night before. They sat in an outer room away from the family and business acquaintances. “He’s between worlds, tying up loose ends here, connecting with lost friends and family there, preparing for his life review.”

“How do you know?” Michael asked in a low tone.

Guy gave him a sharp glance. “All the books say so.”

“The books,” Michael repeated with mild distain. “I’d rather depend on direct experience.”

Guy continued unperturbed. “He’ll go after the funeral, to conduct his life review and move on to his next work.”

Michael pushed his feet back and forth on the carpet. “So why didn’t I see Thomas?” he asked.

Guy shrugged. “Maybe you didn’t know him well enough.”

He remembered Anne saw her brother shortly after his death, but she hadn’t said anything about it lately. Perhaps what Guy said was true.

Adeline bustled in and joined them. When Guy told her of Michael’s experience, she leaned forward, eager to hear more. “Does he seem disturbed or confused?”

“On the contrary. He seems…” Michael hesitated, “…happy.” He shrugged in apology, but Adeline nodded.

“That’s a relief. When someone’s life is cut off like that, it can cause problems. The person has to reorient themselves if there’s unfinished business.”

“You had experience with this?” Michael asked.

“Oh my, yes.” Adeline looked around to be sure they weren’t overheard. “I used to work with Frank, the man from the California lodge, exorcising houses.”

“Really?” Guy leaned forward.

“Many of those spirits met a violent end. We helped them reconcile and move on.”

“You haven’t felt Robert?” Guy asked.

“Not yet. I expect I will tonight or during the funeral.”

Other members arrived, and they began to reminisce. Michael joined in, savoring bittersweet memories and relishing new tales. They finished the evening late at The Mortlake, one of Robert’s favorite English pubs.

A sudden silence in the chapel brought Michael back to the present. The choir finished their hymn. At a gesture from the director, they sat, scraping chairs and shuffling music sheets. A lone sniff sounded through the church. Michael rubbed his temples, hoping to unseat the dull headache that had been with him since he woke up this morning. Too much Queen’s Blond Ale from last night, he supposed.

“It’s more than that,” Robert’s voice sounded in his ear. “Don’t worry. You’ll do just fine.”

“What do you mean?
”
Michael asked, but the minister introduced Robert’s wife, who walked to the front to deliver part of the eulogy, and Robert gave her his full attention. She talked about how she met Robert, how it was love at first sight. Michael thought it probably was a past life connection. Robert hovered in his corner, his light pulsing as she spoke.

One of Robert’s long time business associates talked next, then it was Michael’s turn.

He walked quickly to the pulpit, note cards in his moist hands. He gulped water from the glass sitting next to the thin microphone, and looked out at the sea of faces—family, friends, business associates. Sprinkled among them was Michael’s audience, the Lodge, a group most of the others had no idea existed. He only needed a few well chosen words, nothing more, to soothe the hearts of those who stood by Robert as he led their ceremonies and came to him with their questions. Robert recruited them, trained them, and finally conducted their initiations.

“I’m honored that the Rhodes family asked me to speak today,” he began. “Robert was my dearest friend. I am an Egyptologist. Robert and I shared an interest in the past. Some of the most productive and pleasurable moments of my life were spent in his company, delving into his extensive library. I want to thank Mrs. Rhodes for her indulgence in our pastime.”