Council of Peacocks (19 page)

“This is not physical pain we’re talking
about,” he said. “It’s a spiritual pain. All rebirths start with a
death. Once you enter this chamber and the process begins, parts of
your soul will be ripped apart and replaced with something else. I
need you to comprehend what that means. We’re not talking about
alterations at the genetic level. That happens, but it’s just an
offshoot of the real magic. You are about to lose your mortality
and ascend to a level of divinity.”

Paeder took a last look at the chamber before
stepping inside. “I don’t need to know how it works. Just as long
as it gets the job done. I can’t stand by and let him get away with
it.”

Propates exerted his will and activated the
nerve centers in Paeder’s body. Paeder dropped quickly to his
knees. The pain came so quickly he was unable to stop the
screams.

“You are to take him alive, Paeder. If I even
suspect that you’re trying to kill him, I will send you to the
shadows the same why I did Lucius. The boy is too important. I
won’t let an insignificant twit like you get in the way of our
plans. Now, convince me I’m not making a mistake sending you.”

Propates relaxed and Paeder, regaining
control of his body, rose to his feet. Calmly, he wiped the sweat
from his forehead. Every ounce of his demeanor spoke of potency and
resolve.

“I will do as you command. Doesn’t mean I
can’t make him hurt a little.”

“No, you can hurt him. Just nothing
permanent. Now, you said you don’t need to know how this process
works. Unfortunately, ignorance is a luxury you can’t afford. We’ve
learned from our mistakes. If you enter this blindly, it will kill
you. Not might, will.” He handed two fist-sized emerald-colored
crystals to Paeder. “The first thing you’ll notice is the gas. It’s
a mixture of Earth chemicals and gases from the Axeinus, the Black
Sea. Breathe it in deeply. Saturate your lungs. You’ll also have to
chant the second invocation of the Black Peacock while channeling
your pain into these crystals. No matter what happens, maintain
focus on the crystals. They will keep your mind intact. As the gas
fills the chamber, Otto and I will start what we need to do on our
end. That’s when the pain will really kick in. Your mind will
expand as your body disintegrates. Then it will reconstitute. It’s
not pleasant but you need to work through it. The last thing that
will happen is a gift from our friend from away.”

Propates lowered a gold necklace over
Paeder’s head. It was a simple design with a small lapis lazuli
amulet engraved with magical sigils. “In the final stage, the
necklace will be broken down and fused to your spirit. You’ll feel
a different pain then, unlike anything you’ve ever felt. In that
moment you will cease to be human. You’ll become, for lack of a
better word, an angel of Argus.”

“How long will this take?”

Propates glanced over at Otto.

“That depends on you,” Otto responded. “No
matter how willing you are, your body is going to fight this. If it
doesn’t fight very much, you’ll probably be done in an hour. If it
fights a lot, we could be here for up to eight hours. Based on what
I know about you, you’re an animal. Which means your animal nature
is going to fight back. I hope you didn’t have plans for
dinner.”

“I’m ready.” Paeder sneered at Otto and
tightened his grip on the emeralds.

Propates closed the door to the chamber and
motioned for Otto to start the flow of gases. Filmy green vapors
twirled through the air, slowly sinking around Paeder.

To his credit, he lasted an entire five
minutes before the screams started.

***

Six hours later, Propates stepped into his
apartments and closed the door to the world. Personal time was
something of a commodity in his life. With each passing day, as the
Activation approached more and more quickly, preparations and
politics stole more of his time.

Even now, away from work, he was not alone.
Three acolytes were assigned to his quarters: a cook, a masseuse,
and a general assistant. It was humbling to admit he couldn’t do
everything himself but he was simply too busy trying to save the
world to eat properly.

“I can’t wait for this nonsense to be over,”
he mumbled to himself. He waved the acolytes away and bypassed the
food laid on the dining room table. Brushing off their protests, he
walked straight to the bathroom and locked the door. He leaned over
the bathroom counter and studied his reflection in the mirror. He
looked for signs of the young farmer he used to be. There was
nothing left of that boy. The parts Wisdom left undamaged were
destroyed by years living amongst the shadows of the Black Sea.

Something tingled at the back of his
consciousness. The faucets spun open, hot water flowing freely.
Steam flew up, fogging over the mirror.

“What do you want?”

From behind the shroud of steam, a voice
came. “We have much to discuss, Propates.” It was noticeably
inhuman with a grating, chalk-like undertone.

“If you have something to discuss, there are
proper channels. I don’t care what you do with the rest of humanity
but you will show me a proper respect if you wish to maintain our
allegiance. Now, say what you will and get out of my sight.”

The voice murmured something inaudible, as if
it was conferring with someone else. Then, it spoke again. “We show
you respect. We let you believe the lie that we never see you
naked, that we don’t watch you as you sleep. We allow you your
comfort because it benefits us. Perhaps it is you who need to show
us some proper respect. Why are you sending an agent after my
child?”

“You’re being ridiculous.” Propates exerted
his will and the mist covering the mirror dissipated. In its
absence was not a reflection of the room, but a blackness that
continued on with no apparent end, broken only by faintly luminous
bodies. Though he’d only heard one voice, dozens of glowing red
eyes stared back at him. “He is not your child, any more than he’s
Richard Wilkinson’s. Josh isn’t a person. He’s a tool. An important
cog in a complicated machine that has fallen out of place. We need
to put it back in place before the machine falls apart. My agent is
not going to kill him. He’s going to retrieve him. Now, if there’s
nothing else…”

The voice murmured something else. The
luminous bodies shifted, huddled together, but most of the eyes
remained on him. After a moment, the voice spoke again. “We are
glad our need for each other is coming to an end. We have never
forgiven you for stealing the Edimmu. There will come a time when
you must make restitution for your betrayal.”

“Your threats don’t frighten me, demon, no
more than they ever have. As long as you’re imprisoned in the
Axeinus, I have nothing to worry about. Now, our conversation is
done. Do not contact me this way again.”

With another exertion of will, Propates broke
the connection to the Axeinus. Once again the mirror reflected on
the bathroom. He closed his eyes, more exhausted than ever.

Chapter Fourteen

August
5
^th

Two days after the
attack in Toronto, Wisdom appeared in London. No one was exactly
sure of the time of his arrival. One of his London secretaries, a
middle-aged woman named Shirley, found him in the morning working
in his office.

“
Dear God, sir,”
she said. “You know everyone’s been looking for
you.”

Wisdom looked up
from a folder filled with black and white photos. “The search for
Wisdom continues, eh? The subtext is amusing. Be a doll and get
Elaine on the phone for me, would you? She should be in Hong
Kong.”

Shirley nodded and
left the room.

Wisdom turned back
to the photos. They’d been taken by Ms. Ryerson. She was tracking
men with ties to the Council. One was Otto Siegmar, a bioengineer
from Germany. The other was Lucius Vitalli. He was an Italian
businessman now living in New York. Lately, Lucius had fallen off
Ms. Ryerson’s radar, which made Wisdom nervous.

He’d been busy
himself spying on a third member of the Council. Paavo Rothschild
was the liaison between the Council and the Bilderberg Group.
Despite what the swarms of the paranoid believed, the Bilderberg
group was not involved in a diabolic plot to overthrow the world.
Having been a member of the group since its inception, he knew all
too well what their real purpose was.

Yesterday, Paavo
and Otto had met in Munich. The first time through these events,
Wisdom had learned about the meeting afterwards. This time he
wanted to be there when it happened. Somehow, events had changed
again. Security around the meeting was increased with extra
surveillance-blocking technology installed. It appeared they knew
their location was compromised.

Several minutes
later, the intercom beeped.

“
Yes?” Wisdom
slipped the photos into his desk.

“
Elaine is on line
four. I thought you should know, sir. There is a Mr. Icke in
reception. He says he has an appointment with
you.”

Wisdom
groaned.

“
Didn't I put a
contract out on that wackjob? Oh, never mind. Just tell him I'm in
the middle of something and I'll have to get back to him. Hmm,
better yet, escort him to Meeting Room Six and have Sylvester and
Kyle pay him a visit. Let's end that whole business once and for
all.”

“
Yes,
sir.”

“
Wisdom,” Elaine
said once Wisdom put the phone on intercom, “thank God you’re
alive.”

“
Don’t tell me
you’ve lost faith in me.”

Elaine sighed.
“After everything you’ve told me about traveling through time, I’m
not sure what I believe anymore. If even the past is subject to
change, absolutely nothing is absolute.”

“
You should be able
to relax for a few days. Are the children secure? Be careful what
you say on these lines. I can’t guarantee they’re
secure.”

“
Of course,” Elaine
said. She was in Hong Kong with a group of look-a-likes. They’d
been hired to make the Council believe all the Anomalies were
there. Energy emitters designed to mimic the use of EFHB were
activated at irregular intervals. “Everyone is secure
here.”

“
History tells me
it’s vitally important no one find the Anomalies at least until
next week. You'll know everything you need to by
then.”

“
Is that when it
happens?”

“
Yes,” he said.
“That’s when the Djinn shows up.”

***

Josh pressed the bandage firmly against the
inside of his elbow and stepped onto the elevator. After a fourth
day of tests and bloodletting he’d developed a new-found loathing
for doctors and needles. In the elevator with him were two Chinese
men speaking Mandarin in hushed tones. Both were dressed in nearly
identical dark suits. Only their ties were different.

There was no one in the lounge but the
television was on. On the screen, was a thin, black woman with a
thick accent. She walked down the aisle of a talk show studio
audience asking the crowd if it was possible to ever really know
someone. This led to a story about a woman who, after five years of
marriage, found out that her husband was actually her biological
father.

“Good to know trash TV isn’t confined to
North America.” Josh turned the TV off and headed toward the
cafeteria.

The lights flickered up and down the entire
length of the hallway. A feeling settled over him. He looked up and
down the corridor. It was empty. He clenched and unclenched his
fists repeatedly, searching the fitful shadows in each doorway.
Then, near the end of the corridor, something caught his eye.
Movement. He took a step forward and peered closer at a half-open
door. In the last few days he’d passed by it many times. A closet.
He’d seen the middle-aged janitor pull cleaning supplies and a mop
from there.

‘Something’s wrong.’ The door was open, just
a crack. Previously, it had always been locked. Worse, the light
that pulsated above from the rows of fluorescent bulbs did not
touch the darkness on the other side.

The door swung slightly more open.

In that second, rational or not, he decided
it was not his imagination. Someone was watching him. He charged
toward the unseen watcher, fists at the ready and jaw clenched.
Then he saw movement again. A flash of gold light, like sunlight
off a ring, hit him in the eyes. He slowed. He stopped, head
throbbing.

The door swung open even further and a voice,
at once familiar and alien, hit his ears.

“Remember,” it said.

And he did.

***

Four summers ago, life in the Wilkinson
house changed completely. After the death of Tommy Delonki and the
shooting in Lebanon, Josh found himself jumping at shadows. He
barricaded his closet door at night and consistently slept with his
weapons – a knife under the pillow and a baseball bat beside the
bed.

One day after school, he walked in on his
mother. She sat on his bed holding the baseball bat across her
lap.

“
What exactly do you think is going to
attack you?” She asked the question with barely concealed worry in
her voice.

Josh could only shrug in response.