Beneath the Hallowed Hill (39 page)

“What is wrong with you? Don’t you remember? Here.”
He pictured the city.
“Take me here.”

Something was wrong. Cagliostro looked out and saw people running into the temple, a muscular man in the lead. They were shouting.

“Take me home,”
he demanded, and the crystal swooshed to life, irradiating him with light and dissolving his body. In the blink of an eye, the scene shifted. He was back, back at the bottom of the ocean, back to the impotent triangle he set up of three, only three sentinels…only three.

“No
,” he screamed in his mind, and something deep inside the Earth rumbled, matching his rage. The world tilted. He tried to take a breath, but choked. It was water. He kicked toward the shimmering surface as fast as he could, his lungs burning. His head cleared the surface and he gulped air. An arm reached out from nowhere and pulled him onto a flat surface. Hands began to push on his chest. He lost consciousness.

Chapter Twenty-One

Govannan ran toward the central crystal, but the form already began to fade and he bounced off the hardening surface of the stone. What in the name of the One was happening? How could only one being manage the energy of the Fire Stone? The floor tipped out from under him, and he knew the answer; no one could, not safely. He landed hard and tried to scramble up, but another quake sent him sprawling. His head ached and his stomach threatened to turn itself inside out. This crazy person unjointed the Earth’s balance, the delicate harmony of dimensions. Would they be able to repair it in time? More members of the pod arrived, racing to their stations.

Ianara ran to him. “Are you hurt?”

“No, I don’t think so,” he said, but his leg buckled with his first step. He grabbed her shoulder. “Help me to my place.” Already the chant was building around him, soothing but strong, like the voice of a mother separating squabbling children. With her help, he limped to his place, then looked around the circle to see who was missing.

“Herasto,” he and Ianara said in unison. She moved off to find him.

“Rhea, too. Call Rhea since we don’t have Megan,” he shouted to her retreating back. Another tremor shook the ground. The Fire Stone groaned alarmingly. Govannan looked around at the frightened faces of his pod. “If one person can do this much damage, nine of us can fix it,” he shouted above the creaking of the stone.

A few nodded, and they began again, singing the notes that always opened their circle, then moving into the calming chant again, the one used to lull the eddies of energy to sleep after a transport. It seemed paltry against the enormous currents rushing through the crystal like spikes of fever in a shivering patient. Herasto came running in, followed by Ianara. They took their places, and the psychic connection they all usually shared during a transport finally took hold. As leader of the pod, Govannan directed their awareness deep into the Fire Stone. A sharp pain stabbed through his head. Daphyll threw up then began to chant again, clutching her stomach. Rhea rushed in, took a look around, and went to Megan’s place. Finally the circle was complete.

They worked for hours it seemed, knitting the boundaries of the worlds back together. They ran their awareness through each temple on the huge spiral, restoring the frequencies, shunting off the excesses of energy, enlivening places that were fading because no energy flowed through them at all. They sang to the great Tuaoi Stone, wrestling with the huge surges of energy and the sudden bursts of almost-emotion. The images didn’t make sense—the bottom of the ocean, a being with white-blond hair. Such anger. Such loneliness. More than anyone should have to bear.

Once peace was restored to the towering crystal and their spiral, they switched to Gaia herself, feeling deep into the solid plates that made up her shell over the red heat of her heart. The enormity of power dwarfed them. Their efforts seemed futile. Govannan opened his eyes and the outer world swam into view. The observation room was packed with people, most in silent meditation, channeling their strength to the workers. Oria, the head of the Gaia Guild, stood on the outskirts of the circle with a group of her people, their green robes somehow comforting among all the white and ultraviolet. She waited for the Crystal Matrix workers to all open their eyes, then she held up her palms.

“Please don’t move.” She looked at Govannan. “The Earth’s mantle has been wounded. May we join you?”

Govannan glanced at Rhea, who nodded. The Gaia priests and priestesses took up places at even intervals between the Crystal Matrix workers. Once all were arranged, Oria guided them in meditation deep into the Earth. It was different from their usual quicksilver work with the crystals. The steadiness and careful plodding of the Gaia Guild that maddened Govannan in the past was now appreciated. It was the consciousness of granite and basalt, the pace of the earth itself, the patience of water winding through rock to eventually create a canyon. Govannan slowed to that vibration, barely breathing, and followed Oria into the mantle beneath his feet. He saw it in their collective mind, the crack, a long line showing red just like a cut on skin. It was not blood welling up; it was fire, a fire that would consume them all. The volcanoes of Atlantis, their source of power, of heat, the temples of attunement—they would welcome this fire. They might open too far, consuming all life.

The two groups worked well into the night, slowly mending, cajoling, chanting until their voices grew rough and their throats threatened to close. Someone brought them water. Govannan drank greedily. Water, wet and cool, to quench the fires, to quiet the eruptions. Slowly, the Earth settled. The aftershocks came to a halt. The cracks congealed, still showing red. A hush fell over everything. The healers came on silent feet, leading the workers off, some to the Healing Temple, others to their rooms in the villa. They were bathed, fed soup, and put to bed. Govannan fought to stay awake.

“We aren’t finished.” He moved his head back and forth on the pillow. “There’s still a crack.”

“Shh,” a voice said. “Hush. We are safe for now. Sleep.”

He did.

* * * *

Govannan woke with a start, but when he tried to get up, he found every limb ached. He lifted his head and laid it back down when the room started spinning. Ancient Thuya, of all people, came to him. “Pleione sent over this remedy.” She squeezed some drops in a glass of water, wrinkling her nose. “It smells vile. In Al Khem, we make our medicines tasty.” She held the glass for him.

Govannan lowered his mouth to the rim and made a face.

“Drink up,” came the order.

He gulped it down and laughed, remembering how Thuya was here when he first came, a young boy fresh from the Emergence Ceremony, already homesick. She made him a dish from his home city, humming while she watched him eat. His head cleared from the medicine. “What time is it?”

“Late. The sun has almost set.” He made a move to get up, but Thuya pushed him back. Indeed, he was weak as a newborn. “Pleione says all of you must stay in bed until morning.”

“But—”

“The Earth is quiet now. The Crystal Matrix Chamber is closed. You need your strength for the trial.”

Govannan got an elbow under himself and tried to push up. “I forgot about that. We need to find out what happened.”

Thuya pushed him back down, gentle but insistent. “You need to get well. Everyone is resting. It will keep until morning.”

Pleione must have slipped something into her concoction, because try as he might, Govannan couldn’t keep his eyes open. He drifted back to sleep.

The next morning he felt himself again, except the limp returned. He arrived at the villa’s dining hall to a flurry of speculation.

“It couldn’t be a human,” Herasto said. “No human has enough power.”

“What are you saying then?” Daphyll frowned at him over her cup. “That one of the Star Elders did it? That’s impossible.”

“It had to be one of the Elder Races,” he insisted. “They’re the only ones with that kind of ability.”

“He could have been helped by a group at another portal,” another pod member pointed out.

Govannan sat with Ianara, and they surveyed the room. It was their responsibility to keep balance here. “I’m afraid the predication of the Star Elders is coming to pass,” he said.

Ianara nodded. “That’s the only explanation. Evenor asked the Sirians to come help us straighten out the damage, but they said the portal is no longer safe.”

Govannan looked at her sharply. “We’re on our own, then?”

She started to speak, then hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Govannan said.

“That stone they gave you.”

“Yes?”

“Why didn’t you use it?”

“What?” Govannan pushed his bowl away. “I didn’t even think of it. Besides, you know as well as I do that I haven’t had time to study it yet.”

She put her hand over his. “Perhaps the time for such caution has passed. Try it, Govannan.”

He shook his head. “The Earth is stable now. The Fire Stone?”

“Stable,” she said. “For now.”

“There’s still time to study the crystal under controlled conditions, then.”

Ianara mumbled something about donkeys and stood up to go. She turned back. “I’m just worried.”

“We’re all frightened, Ianara, but that’s no reason to take extra risks. We’ll get through this together.” Govannan tried to sound confident.

She shrugged. “I’ve got to go check on things.”

“I’m going to the trial.”

“Yes, I suppose they’ll need to hear from you.”

After a small breakfast, Govannan walked to Rhea’s office. He stopped for a moment in his favorite alcove, listening to the patter of the fountain, watching the sparrows jump into the water and splash about. He didn’t have time to linger, not now.

Rhea looked tired. “Didn’t you rest?” he asked after her assistant closed the door.

“You mean did I drink Pleione’s medicine?” Rhea snorted. “I didn’t have time to sleep that long.”

He watched her for a moment. “Maybe you should have.”

She ran her hand through her hair, which sprang right back into its halo. “The city is going crazy. You heard about the rumors that animals are attacking, right?”

“What?”

“Apparently some citizens believe large animals in the mountains are harassing the city at night, taking revenge for what was done to them.”

“Revenge? Animals?” He stared at her. “How do people know about the experim—” He shook his head against the euphemism. “—torture?”

“Secrets always get out, Govannan, no matter what you do. It’s not that the information just comes to people, like it used to. It’s all distortions, exaggerations.” Rhea put her head in her hands. “They want us to mount an attack of our own.”

“Who?”

“Citizens. The guilds are flooded with demands. They want us to create a barrier to guard the city at night.”

“How?”

“With the Tuaoi Stone.”

“What? That’s…that would…that’s an abomination.”

“Yes, and that’s not all. Another rumor has it that the Star Elders were behind the attack on the Crystal Matrix Chamber.”

“Attack? It was a misuse of the crystal. It wasn’t malicious.”

“Are you sure of that?”

Govannan sat forward. “I’m certain the Star Elders would do nothing to harm us.”

She frowned.

“For the One’s sake, Rhea, the Sirians and Pleiadeans are ascended races. Their enlightenment is certain. They could never do such a thing, they never would.”

She studied him for a moment. “These stories they’re circulating about a fall…how can you be sure they’re not a cover?”

“Rhea.” He blinked as if she threw cold water in his face. “What’s come over you?”

“I don’t know. It’s just…it’s all happening so fast.”

“You should have taken Pleione’s medicine.” He stood up. “I’m calling her right now. We can’t have your judgment affected.”

Rhea looked at him with sad eyes. “Don’t you see, Govannan? It’s inevitable. Sooner or later, we will be affected. The leaders. Our wisest.” She waved her hand in the direction of the Poseidon Temple where the High House was located. “Sooner or later, we too will lose our way.”

Govannan straightened to his full height. “Not today.”

His voice finally reached her and her face cleared. After a moment, she smiled. “Thank you, old friend.”

“Of course.”

Rhea smoothed her robe. “I guess we are due at the trial.”

He nodded. “I wanted to go over with you.”

They threaded their way through a large crowd outside the Governor’s Guild. One man barred their access, accusing them of trying to hide the truth.

“Come hear for yourself,” Govannan said.

“They’re not letting us in,” the man said.

“What?”

“They say the room is full,” a woman answered.

Rhea took Govannan’s arm and whispered, “We’re late. Let Evenor deal with them.”

They pushed past the protestors and made their way through the crowded hallway into the large public hall usually reserved for celebrations and award ceremonies. The room was transformed for this unprecedented event. Three tiers of seats, filling with the heads of the guilds, were formed into a semi-circle. Surid sat on the floor facing them. Two guards stood on either side of him. He sat placidly, hands folded, looking as if he were there to accept congratulations. The tiers above him buzzed with people from the general public.