Beneath the Hallowed Hill (44 page)

Once the groups seemed done, Ianara asked each pod what their destination was to be. Al Khem, Mayaland, Tibet, Sirius, the Pleiades. Each group seemed harmonious, ordered to one place, each one different…except for Megan. When she answered that she was to go to Avalon, to Megan’s surprise, Ianara turned to Thuya. “Is she to take the sentinels?”

“Three,” Thuya answered. “Each pod that stays on Earth is to take three sentinels. They are too powerful to keep together in the coming darkness.”

“Thuya is our most powerful seer,” Daphyll whispered. “She will return home with us.”

Ianara accepted Thuya’s word and turned back to the whole group. “Take as many of our tools as you can. Pack a few clothes and food. The elders will come with me to prepare the Fire Stone.”

After an hour of work, the pods going off planet were called to the Crystal Matrix Chamber. It took a double complement of workers to send them, but they got to their destinations safely. Two hours later, the Earth broke open. Lava flooded the volcanoes and flowed down the slopes toward the city. Buildings fell, floors shook. The Fire Stone could no longer be used. They would have to travel by ship.

Megan went back to her room to gather her personal belongings. She took a few seashells from her childhood collection, a few pillows, and her favorite dress, then ran back to the temple. The place felt empty and hollow. The Fire Stone was sung to sleep and sealed.

Ianara made her way across the rippling floor, walking like a sailor. “We’ve packed the sentinels. Are you ready?”

“Did you ever find out?” Megan asked. Another quake hit, and the two women grabbed each other to stay upright.

After it died down, Ianara said, “We only know he is still on Earth. May you find him again, Megan.”

Tears welled in her eyes, but she brushed them away, remembering what her guide said. Now she had to save herself and their child. “Thank you for everything. Good luck.”

Two men she did not know shouldered the three sentinels and walked with her to the harbor guarded by soldiers. People screamed at them as they made their way to the ship. “You’re leaving us to die.” “Fix the Fire Stone and stop the quakes.” “Take my child with you. Oh, have pity.”

Megan ducked her head. She didn’t see her family—her cousins, her mother’s sisters and brothers, her grandmothers. She had no idea what was happening to them. Somewhere deep inside she knew her parents would travel west and that she would never see them again. Tears ran down her cheeks, but she trudged ahead. Duty, that was all that was left.

Others were ordered to Avalon, and once the ship was loaded, they set sail. As they pulled away from Eden, the whole city came into view. It was ablaze. Rubble replaced buildings. The trees were black skeletons. Megan looked toward the high hill where the Queen’s palace stood, and the Temple of Poseidon where she first heard Govannan’s voice. It fell, all of it. The water seemed to be rushing out, and it took the ship with it.

“Raise sails,” the captain shouted. “Man the oars.”

The ship made it out to the open ocean. Megan watched from safety as a monster wave rose above her lost home and crashed over it, putting out fires and sweeping the remaining people of Atlantis into the sea. Did Ianara make it out? Herasto and Daphyll? She would never know.

* * * *

Govannan sat against the wall in this new cell where he had been locked for two days. He got a glimpse of the house when they first arrived in the predawn grey; it was a stone and glass mansion surrounded by gardens and an orchard. The lowing of some kind of animal came across the rolling hills. He looked forward to a room with a view, to sunlight and the flowers he smelled on the wind, but once again he was taken below ground and locked away in the dark, damp bowels of the house. One small, grated window looked out to a metal retaining wall, bringing in some air, if little light. The food the guard provided tasted faintly of some kind of metal—limp, lifeless vegetables, lumps of muscle meat, and a strong brown drink that set Govannan’s heart racing. He could imagine what Oria would have to say about that.

He explored the room for weaknesses in case he would need to escape, but if this man’s idea of hospitality reflected anything about how the people in this mysterious place thought, he could have difficulty with basic necessities. Making his way back to the portal could prove dangerous if not impossible, not to mention that the Matrix Stone on this side lay upturned at the bottom of the ocean. Even if he got to it, how would he activate it?

The thought brought him to another puzzle. Where were Cagliostro’s pod of workers? They emerged into the murky depths alone, with no backup. Maybe his team didn’t have time to gather. It was the only answer Govannan could think of. In Atlantis, Cagliostro acted on impulse and jumped without harmonizing with the more subtle dimensions, an act that a few days ago Govannan wouldn’t be able to imagine. The imbalance resulting from this manifested as quakes in Eden. He hoped his guild healed them by now.

His mind continued to function like flotsam caught by a strong current. Thoughts and emotions flooded him unbidden, and they were hard to dismiss. His focus waned when he got tired. His stamina just wasn’t what it used to be before the jump. Even his memory was spotty. He completely lost his awareness of the One. He knew it was there only because it always was, because it was the very fabric of all life. He yearned to reconnect to this cosmic ocean of consciousness that always supported him before, so he did the only thing he knew to do. He spent long hours meditating, trying to clear out the imbalance that the hasty jump caused, then exercised in his cell as best he could. Good food and pure water would have helped, but these his captor denied him. At times he doubted his decision to go with Cagliostro, but the madman would have returned, creating worse havoc. Govannan tried to reconcile himself to his task. He waited. He imagined that Cagliostro was still recovering from the transport, just as he was.

On the third day, the guard, whose name he now knew was Mueller, brought him upstairs into the dazzling sunlight to a room where Cagliostro sat at a desk. Behind him stood a golden icon. Govannan pushed down his complaints and pointed at the statue. “A striking piece of art.”

Cagliostro glanced behind him, as if he had forgotten about the glorious artifact. “Oh, yes. Amun, the Hidden One, but it isn’t this statue that concerns me.”

Govannan’s guess that his captor was ill proved true. The dark circles under Cagliostro’s eyes were gone. He sat straight as a young tree, his blue eyes intent, his silver hair hanging down his back in a ponytail. He was bright and full of vitality, but it was the vitality of a python—coldblooded and intent on its prey. He got up and walked around the desk. He took Govannan by the arm, then sniffed, frowning at him.

“I hope you’ll excuse me,” Govannan said in a flat voice, “but my room does not have a bath.”

Mueller, who stood stiff as the wood of the door, broke his pose and gave him a sharp glance.

“If you agree to help me,” Cagliostro said, “all the amenities shall be provided.” He stopped in front of a glass display table.

“This is why I came with you,” Govannan said. “To help you.”

Cagliostro turned with a snarl. “Let’s drop the pretense that you’re here voluntarily, shall we? I forced you to come with me because you kept interfering.”

“It was never my intention to hinder you.” Govannan spoke slowly, as if trying to quiet a rattlesnake.

“You did. You stopped me even when we entered the crystal again.” Cagliostro’s voice was mild, but his eyes blazed like diamonds in the sun.

“I don’t know what you mean,” Govannan said.

“I’ll give you one more chance.” Cagliostro turned to the image hanging on the wall. “Tell me how to get to this place.”

Govannan studied the painting, hoping to find something familiar in it. He saw elements of the image in several locations—tall crystal spires, glass domes—but not this exact combination. He turned to his captor. “Why do you think I know? It is your picture, after all.”

Cagliostro began to pace. “I remember this city in Atlantis, exactly as it’s depicted here, but the Tuaoi Stone won’t take me there.”

“How do you communicate your destination to the crystal?”

Cagliostro stopped, the look of hope in his eyes so vivid that Govannan felt a stab of pity. His face was flushed. “All I need from you is information.”

Govannan spread his hands. “Of course. This is why I asked.” He realized his hands were shaking. “May I sit down? I haven’t slept well.”

Cagliostro surveyed his dirty clothes with a look of distain. “If you must.”

Govannan sank into an armchair, grateful for a soft cushion that didn’t poke into his hipbones. He closed his eyes to gather his thoughts…and to scan Cagliostro, who caught him at it and put up an impenetrable shield. He opened his eyes and gave Cagliostro an appraising look.
Very well
, he thought.
The only way out of this situation is to heal this man
. He spoke as if to a student, “Tell me your procedure for transport.”

His captor raised an eyebrow at Govannan’s tone of voice. “Once I enter the stone—”

“How did you manage to get the stone to open?”

“By using the proper tones.” Cagliostro looked at Govannan as if he just began to doubt his intelligence.

“You did this alone?”

“Of course.”

“You’ll excuse the question, but on Atlantis we never risk a transport without a full compliment of Crystal Matrix singers. The work is too delicate.”

Cagliostro snorted. “I’m beginning to think that Atlantis does not live up to the legends.”

Govannan opened his mouth to continue his questioning, then the word ”legends” echoed in his mind. He remembered Cagliostro saying that most people didn’t believe in Atlantis. A revelation swept toward him, but he fought it off like a swimmer struggling to escape a strong wave. The ocean always wins. Implacable, the realization crested and spilled over into his mind. Cagliostro didn’t take him to a different place; he took him to a different time.

Govannan’s face drained of all color. He grabbed the arms of the chair, grateful for its support.

“What?” Cagliostro snapped.

Govannan moved his head around slowly, peeking at the room as if hesitant to confront it directly.

“What is wrong with you?”

“What year is this?” Govannan asked, his voice thin.

A cruel smile broke over Cagliostro’s face. “Your civilization disappeared 11,500 years ago.”

“How?” Govannan whispered.

“The volcanoes. The Earth opened up and your island sank beneath the waves.” Cagliostro sneered, as if this should be evident. “The island was geologically unstable. A stupid place to build.”

A dark pit opened up inside Govannan’s gut. Tears flooded his eyes and overflowed, making clean tracks through the smudges of dirt on his face. His body shook and he made no attempt to contain his weeping. Cagliostro made a sound of disgust, but Govannan only covered his face with his hands and continued to sob. His beautiful city, his friends…and Megan, the light of his heart—all gone. He was marooned in the time the Star Elders warned him of, but it was worse, much worse than he could ever imagine.

After a moment, he heard Cagliostro’s voice. “I can take you back. I can take you back before the end, but only if you help me.”

Govannan shook his head. “No.”

Cagliostro leaned across the space and hissed, “You dare refuse me?”

“You have destroyed it.”

“What are you talking about? It’s right there, on the other side of the Fire Stone.” Cagliostro stood up and shouted, “It’s the only place the damn thing will take me to.”

“We caused the earthquakes.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The Crystal Matrix Temple balanced the Earth’s energy. We used those volcanoes for energy, heat—” Govannan shook his head. He couldn’t tell this man those secrets. “We controlled the tension in the mantle through the Fire Stone.” He looked at Cagliostro and his heart filled with the fire of that sacred mountain. “You tore that balance to shreds when you went through time. Such an operation requires the most delicate attention. You’ve killed thousands of people.”

Cagliostro laughed. “You’re trying to tell me that I caused the fall of Atlantis? Don’t be ridiculous.” He turned to his guard. “Take him back to his cell. Let him think about his options.”

Mueller took Govannan by his arm and pulled him up. Govannan stumbled along next to him, blind to all but his grief. Mueller tossed him in his cell where he huddled in a corner and wept, wishing only that he could throw himself into the ocean and join his friends and family. When his eyes dried of their own accord, he built up the image of Megan as he last saw her, dressed in Pleiadean finery, her young face soft with joy and radiant with wonder. He said his goodbyes and told her how he would have made love to her on all the worlds he ever visited. He imagined their children, born one by one, nurtured, loved, instructed. He saw them grow up and go out to make their way in the world. He remembered his family, his friends, the other workers in the Crystal Matrix Chamber—and he said goodbye to all, one by one. When he was finished, he stretched out on the stone floor of his cell and offered his life to the Mother of All.

Chapter Twenty-Four