Council of Peacocks

Council of Peacocks

Book One: Activation Series

M
Joseph Murphy

Council of Peacocks

By M
Joseph Murphy

Published by M Joseph Murphy at Smashwords

Copyright 2014 Council of Peacocks Press

Smashwords Edition, License
Notes
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ISBN: 978-0-9919503-2-4

Cover design by M Joseph Murphy using photos
from Fotalia and Pixabay.

M Joseph Murphy's Official
Website

“The risks of too much knowledge are far
greater than the menace of too little. With knowledge comes
responsibility and power – two things for which the race is not yet
ready.”

Alice Bailey,
Initiation, Human and
Solar

“To Paradise, the Arabs say, Satan could
never find the way. Until the peacock led him in.”

Charles Godfrey Leland,
The
Peacock

Dedication

To Rob Welch.

Council of Peacocks would never have seen
the light of day without you.

Table of
Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Chapter Twenty-Six

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Chapter Twenty-Eight

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty-One

Chapter Thirty-Two

Chapter Thirty-Three

Chapter Thirty-Four

Chapter Thirty-Five

Chapter Thirty-Six

Chapter Thirty-Seven

Epilogue

Other Works by M Joseph Murphy

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Wisdom fell
fifty feet and landed face-first on concrete. His skull bounced off
the sidewalk twice. Then he lay still. He kept his eyes closed.
Each breath brought stabbing pain. At least three ribs were broken.
Probably more. Still, it was over: the Djinn was dead.

Nearby, a little girl screamed.

He blinked repeatedly, forcing his eyes to
focus. Misty shapes solidified and he realized he was no longer in
the underground fortress of the Council. Cold mist fell on his
face. The air rumbled with the sound of rushing water. He realized
where he was.

“Niagara Falls? How the hell…?”

He pushed himself up on weak arms and looked
around. Snow-covered ice blanketed everything. Spray from the
waterfall froze on the faces and jackets of the crowd of tourists
gathered around him. They stared at him, repulsed. Looking down, he
saw why. It was impossible to tell where tattered flesh ended and
tattered suit began: both were the same shade of red. Fortunately,
aside from the ribs, nothing seemed to be broken. It was small
consolation. Everything had gone so wrong.

Well, not everything.

“I won,” he said. The Djinn was dead and the
Council defeated. His back muscles spasmed as he forced himself to
his feet. “Any idea what the date is? Don’t worry, I won’t
bite.”

A woman with overly-bleached blond hair took
off running before he finished speaking. Two men in their early
twenties stared at him and took a collective step back.

“Jesus, I said I wouldn’t bite.” Wisdom
stretched his arms, groaning as tattered muscles and tendons
slipped back into place. “Now tell me what day it is before I
change my mind about the biting thing.”

“Is there a problem here?”

He turned to face a thick-armed police
officer with a graying crew cut.

“There won’t be a problem if someone tells me
what the bloody date is.” Wisdom spoke through clenched jaws. “Did
they outlaw common courtesy while I was away?”

“You’ve been away, eh?” The police officer
scratched his jaw and stared openly at Wisdom. Then he exhaled
slowly, an internal conversation flashing across his face. “You’re
in pretty rough shape there. Maybe it would be best if you come
with me.”

Wisdom clenched his fists; orange fire flared
in his eyes.

The police officer rose off the ground two
feet, clutching his throat as if being choked by invisible
hands.

“Maybe,” Wisdom said, “it would be best if
you just answered the damn question.”

“It’s January 15th!”

“Four months,” he said. “We fought for four
months? That definitely explains why I'm exhausted.” Wisdom smiled
down at the young girl who had shouted the date and relaxed his
fists. The police officer dropped, reaching for his gun even as he
struggled back to his feet.

“This is tiresome.” Wisdom waved his hand and
the man stopped moving.

Everyone within seven hundred feet stopped
moving.

A hush fell on Queen Victoria Park. The only
sound was the rush of the Niagara River racing over the escarpment
to slam against the rocks below. Some things even Wisdom's power
couldn't stop. He walked up wide stone steps toward the nearest
hotel.

Something moved at the edge of the temporal
distortion. He turned slowly toward it. Near the entrance to an
alleyway, behind a hot dog stand, a glint of gold flashed. Just a
speck of light. He tried to focus on whatever was moving in the
shadows, but the harder he concentrated, the more the image
blurred.

“I'm seeing things,” he said. “Must be more
drained than I thought.” He rubbed his eyes and walked away from
the mystery.

Each step was painful. Shoeless, his raw,
open flesh and exposed bones left a trail of bloody footprints
behind him. Snow crunched underfoot, the sound echoing back from
parked cars and storefronts. Past the edge of his displaced time,
children pulled at parents’ hands, urging them into arcades and
haunted houses.

“Hasn't changed much,” he said under his
breath. “Haven't been here in years. Still the same flashy lights
and gaudy tourist traps. Looks like I’m not the only thing keeping
this city stuck in time.”

He slipped through the revolving doors of a
hotel. People in winter coats scattered. Two heavily-muscled men in
crisp white security uniforms marched toward him, clubs in hand. A
balding man behind the front desk reached for the phone.

“Put that down.” The concierge went rigid and
did as he was told.

Then Wisdom turned to the security guards.
“And you two, go home. Consider this a spa day.” The stern
intimidation on each guard’s face was replaced by vacant numbness.
In unison, they nodded and walked out the front door.

Wisdom sighed and limped the rest of the way
to the front desk.

“Now. Please. Give me the best room you have.
And I don’t care if it’s occupied. Just give me the key. I’ll take
care of anyone in the room. Also, I want clothes.” Wisdom reached
over the counter for a pen and pad of paper. Blood dripped from his
forearms onto a pile of credit card receipts behind the counter.
“These are my measurements. Charge everything to my room. And send
up food, too. One of everything on the menu.”

The front desk clerk nodded slowly, the same
vacant look on his face. He programmed a keycard and handed it to
Wisdom.

“Thank you.” Wisdom bowed his head. Keycard
in hand, he went to the bank of elevators on the other side of the
lobby. People stared at him and talked amongst themselves, but no
one else approached him. At the elevators, he pushed the button and
waited. And waited. He grunted and pushed the button several more
times.

“I can kill a Djinn yet, despite all my
power, I’m stuck waiting on elevators. My life is brimful of
subtext.” While the car descended, he studied his reflection in the
mirrored walls, finally seeing the extent of his injuries. He was a
large man, nearly seven feet tall, with thick, well-developed
muscles. His skin was normally dark brown, the color of wet dirt.
It was impossible to tell in his current state. Large chunks of his
flesh were missing, revealing wet gristle and bone. His black eyes
glowed reddish-orange, adding an extra element of menace. “I look
like day-old road kill.”

Eventually, the elevator arrived. Mercifully,
the other guests let him ride up alone. He rode to the 16th floor
and found the room listed on the keycard. It was a two-story
presidential suite complete with whirlpool. Thankfully, it was
unoccupied.

He headed straight for the bathroom. He
pulled off the remnants of his clothes, careful not to pull away
flesh. They fell in wet piles on the tiled floor.

“I pity the bastard who has to clean this
up,” he said as he turned on the shower. “Speaking of poor
bastards, I wonder what happened to the Anomalies. Did Elaine get
them out? I should call Echo.” He shook the thought away. Whatever
had happened to the Anomalies, he was in no shape to deal with it
now. He'd been gone for four months. A few more days wouldn't
change anything. All that mattered was Echo, and he felt certain
she was fine. She was a survivor.

He stepped under the water, hissing in pain.
Loose pieces of flesh flapped under the spray. The shower quickly
filled with blood. He thought of biting his lip to brace against
screaming but decided against it. In his current state, it might
come off. He leaned against the shower wall and stayed under the
water until it ran cool. Then he turned the taps off and stood on
shaky knees.

Looking at the pools of blood covering the
floor, Wisdom grunted. To get back he would have step through the
mess he'd made. He waved his hand and the blood disappeared. Then,
so as not to make his actions futile, he cauterized his wounds by
will. The exertion was regrettable. He fell to his knees for a
moment until his strength returned.

“Guess I'd better not attempt to heal myself
just yet. It'll probably take at least a week before I'm back to my
old self. I can't risk heading to one of my offices either, not
before I know what I'm heading into. The Council may be defeated
but they have allies.”

Pushing himself back to his feet, he walked
to the king-sized bed and slipped beneath the covers. He turned on
the TV, flipping channels until he found an infomercial about a
complex food processor. Completely engrossed, he watched for
several minutes.

“What the hell am I doing?” Embarrassed, he
changed the channel. “I haven't cooked my own meals in decades.” He
surfed for a few more minutes. Then he landed on CNN. What he saw
made him feel much colder than the snow and ice outside.

Greece.

Wolf Blitzer sat on an overly-lit set
constructed atop the White Tower in Thessaloniki. The night sky
sporadically exploded in blasts of light and sound. But it was the
man in the chair next to Wolf that concerned Wisdom.

“I’m here with Propates,” Wolf said into the
camera. “He's the leader of the Council of Peacocks who, as we
speak, continues to challenge the Greek government for sovereignty
over the area. This is the twenty-third day of the occupation.
Casualties have been extremely one-sided. Hundreds confirmed dead.
Despite their best efforts, the Greeks have yet to win a single
skirmish. The U.N. remains uncommitted, with no other country
willing to commit. Earlier today, we were contacted by Propates. He
wants the Greeks to 'stop fighting a war they cannot win' – his
words. Propates, you claim your once-secret organization has found
a way to forcibly evolve humans. Some feel statements like this
prove you're a little, how shall I say…”