Iona Portal (31 page)

Erin spoke up.  “Holmes, if you and the Irin would approve, I’d like a part in that.  I have nothing in Dallas to return to.  I’d like to build a home on Iona and help to establish a synaxis here.”

Holmes studied her for a long moment.  “That’s truly interesting,” he said with a subtle smile, glancing briefly at Araton.  “You don’t know this, Erin, but Araton has already recommended you to head up the synaxis on Iona.  He said to tell you it
is
your
destiny.
 

“Of course,” he continued, “you must realize it won’t be easy.  Iona is a major historical site, owned and supervised by the National Trust for Scotland.  It won’t be easy for an outsider to obtain property there.”

“You forget, Holmes,” Erin grinned, brushing back a soft lock of chestnut-brown hair, “I’m now Rex Vanderberg’s
widow
.  I checked with my lawyers yesterday.  Rex was so confident of my imminent demise, he never even bothered to file for divorce.  So, since my husband’s tragic ‘hunting accident’ a few weeks ago, his grieving widow is now a
billionaire
.” 

…And as they say in Dallas,
she thought to herself, smiling,
Erin Vanderberg can do anything!
   

Taking a sip of her Velvet, she looked up at Holmes and continued, “I’ll call my lawyers in the morning and get them working on it.  I’m sure we’ll get exactly what we need on Iona.”

“I wouldn’t doubt it for a moment,” Holmes laughed. “The Iona synaxis appears to be in very capable hands.

 “And…” he added.  “I think our friends from Mull could well form the beginnings of that new synaxis.”  The members of the Fionnphort Gun Club, hardly recognizable in their recently trimmed locks and newly acquired finery, raised their glasses in hearty agreement.

Erin hesitated and, glancing at Michael, continued, “If Michael would agree, I’d like to ask him to stay on Iona and help us build the synaxis here.”

“I’d love to!” Michael said.  Leaning close to Piper, he confided, “Since that night in Craignure, I believe Erin has come to view me as something of a father figure.”

Piper gave Michael a curious smile and, leaning near, whispered in his ear, “Michael, I’ve noticed how Erin has looked at you the last few weeks.  Believe me, a father-daughter relationship is
not
what she has in mind!”

For the second time since meeting the Irin, Michael Fletcher was speechless.

After more conversation, Eliel and Araton excused themselves and left the pub.  The remaining wedding guests continued in conversation, but Piper got the distinct impression that they were all waiting for a big surprise to break, though she had no idea what it was.

Holmes had kept the honeymoon plans top secret, saying only that things were “in the works.”   As the evening drew to a close, Holmes was deep in conversation with Michael and Erin, seemingly in no hurry to leave.

Finally, Piper could take the suspense no longer.  She leaned over to Holmes and whispered, “Okay, Holmes, you proposed to me in a volcanic eruption surrounded by flying bat-winged demons.  We married in a Roman Coliseum on a cliff overlooking the islands of the Hebrides—with angels for our best man and maid of honor, no less.  And now we’ve had our wedding reception in a Scottish pub.  I can’t wait to find out where you’re taking me on our honeymoon!”

Holmes smiled at her, “Are you ready to find out?”   His smile broadened to a mischievous grin.

“It’s about time, Holmes!  I’ve never seen you so secretive about anything.  I’ve hardly seen you the last two weeks.  So tell me, where are we going?”

“It’s a place Eliel found for us, and I guarantee you’ll love it.”

Then Holmes stood up in the middle of the pub and held out his hand to Piper. He asked again… “Are you ready to see it?”

“Holmes, I don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to understand, Ginny, just come.” 

“But… we need to go back to the hotel and pick up our luggage,” Piper objected.

“Eliel already took care of that for us.  It’s all been arranged.”

Piper stood up and looked around in confusion.  From the looks on the faces of everyone in the wedding party, it was obvious that the big secret was about to be revealed.  She turned back to Holmes, looked up into his eyes, and gently slipped her hand into his.

Holmes enfolded her softly in his arms, and they enjoyed a long, lingering, passionate kiss, to the delight of everyone in the pub.  And then, in the middle of the cheering crowd… in a move that is sure to be pondered over many a pint at Aidan’s for years to come… Piper and Holmes simply disappeared.

EPILOGUE

VOLCANO HOUSE HOTEL, HAWAII, 8 MONTHS LATER

Erin gazed out the plate glass window at the barren expanse of the Kilauea caldera.  It was one year to the day since she’d last been here. 

The massive clouds of steam and sulphurous gas had finally stopped pouring from the
Halema’uma’u
crater.  The floor of the pit had hardened and cooled.

The longest-running volcanic eruption in recorded history was finally over.   Pele, the goddess of the volcano, had been among the Archons summoned to Mull to reopen the fires of Ben More.  In the melee that took place when the Iona Portal opened, Pele was one of the many Archons destroyed.

Erin took a deep breath and let it out slowly.  Like the crater before her, she was at peace—for the first time in many years.  Ghosts of the past still occasionally haunted her dreams, but in waking hours the unbearable burden of stress was gone.

Gazing across the Caldera to the darkened pit of
Halema’uma’u,
she fought back tears.  
One year ago today I sat at this same table after almost ending my life.  
 

She remembered standing before
Halema’uma’u’s
hellish pit, carefully measuring out the steps that would lead to her destruction.  She’d come so close… if Araton had not been there… a shudder went through her body.

Sensing her distress, Michael reached out and gently took her hand.  She looked into his eyes and the distress faded.

Their whirlwind romance had surprised them both.  Wanting to avoid a Dallas society media circus, they’d kept the wedding small, secret, and informal, exchanging vows on the broad deck of Piper and Holmes’ lake house, overlooking the peaceful waters of Cedar Hills Lake.  They’d invited only the members of the synaxis and a few close friends.

The first three nights of the honeymoon had been spent at their beach house on Hawaii’s big Island.  The place had been thoroughly renovated in the past six months, erasing every memory of Rex. 

But Erin knew they needed to be at Volcano House this morning.  They’d checked into the hotel the evening before, then driven out at 5 AM to watch the sun rise over the darkened pit of
Halema’uma’u
.  Returning to the hotel, they’d warmed themselves with steaming mugs of coffee before the old stone fireplace.  It somehow brought a sense of closure.

Erin’s mind thought back over the last eight months.  So much had happened.

The Iona synaxis was coming together quickly.  In addition to their friends from Fionphort, the Irin had been in contact with a woman on Iona and a married couple from Mull.  As an added bonus, Lys and Patrick both recently announced plans to relocate to Iona.  Their arrival would bring the Iona synaxis up to the minimum number of ten.  A
minyan,
as Marty Shapiro fondly called it.

Erin had leased a small cottage on the island until her new home, already christened
Iona House,
could be built, though Michael had steadfastly insisted on staying at the hotel until the wedding.

Erin looked up at Michael… “I can hardly believe this is real, Michael.” 

“I can’t either,” Michael smiled warmly, giving her hand a squeeze.  “I mean… how a beautiful woman like you could
ever
fall for an old fart like me.”  It was a phrase he’d repeated several times a day for the past week, and he meant it every time.

“Michael!  You’ve
got
to stop saying that!”  Erin scolded gently.  “You’re eleven years older than I am... Rex was nine years older, and I was married to him for 20 years.  I guess I just have this thing for older men.”

Then, looking tenderly into his eyes, she continued.  “And Michael… I’ve been around a lot of men… rich men, famous men, powerful men and cruel men.  But you’re the first
kind
man I’ve ever known.  I wasn’t about to let you get away.   Besides, Araton assures me that you
are
my destiny.”

They ate in silence for a few moments, then Michael looked up.  “I got an email from Holmes last night.  He and Piper just returned from Alaska.  They’ve officially begun synaxis number 28… Believe it or not, it’s a group of Eskimos in a little Inuit village called Kotzebue… above the Arctic Circle in Northwest Alaska.” 

“That’s amazing,” Erin said.  “I can’t believe how quickly these new groups are springing up.  It’s like the Irin have been in contact with people all over the world, just waiting for the right time to begin.”

“By the way,” Michael continued.  “Have you noticed the pattern developing in these new groups?”

Erin tilted her head to the left… her body language for
I don’t understand what you’re talking about.

“Think about it,” Michael said.  “Before the Alaskans there was the group of native Hawaiians at Kailua-Kona…  There were Mongolians living in primitive
gers
on the steppes outside Ulaanbaatar.  Last month Holmes and Piper established synaxis groups among the Ashanti tribesmen in Ghana, the Ethiopian Jews in Jeruselem’s old city, and a group of Maoris in southern New Zealand…”

Erin’s face lit up in recognition… “I hadn’t noticed that before.  Most of the new groups are forming among
native
peoples.  How interesting.”

“I’m developing a theory about it.  Our western culture has a rationalistic mentality—we think it’s necessary to
understand
something before we accept its reality.  That makes us tend to discount anything supranormal.  We don’t want to admit the possibility of angels… and we find it hard to accept and operate in our special abilities.

“But native peoples don’t have that problem.  They’re much more open to accept what they don’t yet understand.”

At that moment, Erin was distracted by a sudden motion in her peripheral vision.  Someone was approaching their table.  Looking up, Erin saw a powerfully built man with shaved head and rich dark skin.

“I’m sorry to disturb the honeymooners…”  A deep resonant voice spoke.

“Araton!” Erin smiled broadly, jumping up to gave him a quick hug.  “I’d hoped you’d be here this morning.  Come and sit with us.”

Araton pulled up a chair at the end of the table and eased himself into it.  “I can only stay for a moment,” he said, a tone of urgency in his voice.  “There’s something I need to tell you.”

“The Archons are on the move again.  They’re using their mental powers to cloud our view of the future, but we sense they’re very close to their goal.

“I’ve come to bring you a warning.  The Archons know the threat you pose, Erin.  For your protection, we believe it’s time to activate the next level of your gifting.  It will provide you both a way of escape when the enemy tries to destroy you.”

“You believe the Archons will still try to kill me?”

“Erin, the Archons know your potential… as do I.  In the end, you’re the only one who can thwart their plans to annihilate the human race.”

He grew more serious.  “In fact… we believe they’ve a plan to kill you both
today
.”

Araton glanced around, eyes darting nervously, then seemed to focus on something beyond their range of vision.  “I’m afraid I must ask you to cut your honeymoon short,” he said, standing to his feet.  “There are Archon sympathizers approaching this mountain, even as we speak.  I need both of you to come with me…
now.”

Responding to the urgency in his voice, both Michael and Erin immediately rose to their feet.

Araton led them from the restaurant, walking purposefully, though trying to appear calm and unhurried.  As they headed down a narrow hallway and out a door at the back of the hotel, his speed steadily increased.  Michael and Erin both soon found themselves running to keep up.  They followed the path beside the edge of the caldera, walking north along the rear of the hotel. Passing through a cluster of Ohia trees, they entered a secluded area behind a thicket of giant Hapu'u ferns, where Araton stopped and glanced around again.

Trying to catch his breath, Michael gasped, “
Araton…
where are we going?” 

Araton reached out quickly and took them both by the hands.  He looked at Erin, and then to Michael, and said simply…

“To
Basilea!”

Watch for Part Two of the Synaxis Chronicles:

IONA STRONGHOLD

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Robert David MacNeil is a teacher, author, wine-lover, and investigator of things supernatural.  Over the last twenty years he’s traveled to 31 nations researching, writing, and teaching on angels, demons, and supernatural encounters.   His travels have taken him from the steppes of Mongolia to the jungles of Thailand, and from the Eskimo villages of Northwest Alaska to
le fin del mundo,
the “end of the world,” at the tip of South America.  He’s encountered a few angels (and cast out a few demons) along the way.

Long addicted to sci-fi and suspense thrillers, Robert also has a love for history–especially ancient Greece, Rome and medieval Europe.  He’s particularly fascinated with Patrick, Columba, and the ancient Celts of Ireland and Scotland.  The Celtic monks had a special relationship with the angels.  They also loved beer and invented whiskey.  The Irish really did save civilization.