The Divining (32 page)

U
LRIKA
," V
EEDA SAID, "MAY
I ask you a personal question?"

     They were preparing breakfast while Iskander was in the brushy foothills foraging for eggs. They had been a month at the City of Ghosts, had built a comfortable camp in the ruins, and had observed the first dusting of snow on the distant mountains. Winter was coming. Soon, no caravans would be able to cross the mountain passes and the threesome would be trapped in this ancient valley.

     They had fallen into a routine. Iskander went daily to his mountain pass to keep watch over his enemy, still camped on the other side. Veeda mended clothes or cooked with Ulrika, or went to the caravanserai where she was making friends among the girls who lived there.

     Ulrika had kept at her daily meditations with no success. She should have received visions by now, if this was indeed the place where her life began. She should have learned the nature of the Divining and when to start on her destined path.

     As she looked at the distant mountains dusted with snow, she knew
she must soon make a decision: to stay and continue what was turning out to be a futile exercise in seeking answers to her gift, or buy passage on the next caravan that came through and could take her south. She had, after all, only the word of a stranger that this place was indeed Shalamandar. Zeroun had even said, "Local legend says that was the name long ago." But legends had a way of growing distorted and even completely wrong over the years. Ulrika wondered if she should return to Babylon and find another way to determine the location of the true Shalamandar.

     "You may ask me anything you want," she said.

     "Have you ever been in love?"

     Ulrika looked at the girl's shy smile, pink blush. Setting aside her knife and the late autumn onions they had bought from Zeroun, she said, "I am in love right now, Veeda. With a wonderful man who is at this moment on his way to a far-off fabled land."

     "And does he love you?"

     "Yes." But, she thought, we have been apart now for a long time. Has he reached China? Does he find the women there exotic and beautiful? Perhaps irresistible ...

     She missed Sebastianus so much it was like a physical pain. Every day she read his letter, spoke out loud the words he had written, ending with "I love you." She ached for his warmth and strength, yearned to feel his powerful arms around her, needed to experience the solidness of his body and the security of his embrace.

     She touched the scallop shell that lay on her breast. "Sebastianus gave this to me. It connected him to his homeland, and now it connects me to him."

     "Does it connect you to his homeland as well?"

     Ulrika looked at the wide, questioning eyes, dark and filled with sorrow and hope. And it occurred to her that she had more in common with this tribal girl than she had realized. They both did not know were they belonged. "I suppose it does," Ulrika said. "I had never thought of it."

     Veeda looked down at her hands and said hesitantly, "How do you ... how does a woman get a man to notice her?"

     "Veeda," Ulrika said gently. "Iskander notices you."

     The blush deepened. And Ulrika thought: should I tell her I suspect he feels the same way? But he is holding back. What keeps Iskander from expressing his feelings for her? The enemy on the other side of the mountain, waiting for him to come down ...

     "When he goes up there," Veeda said, pointing to the mountain that loomed over the ruins. "I feel a hole here," and she tapped her chest. "When he returns, it is filled again. But Iskander will never love me."

     "Why do you say that?"

     "Because of Asmahan."

     "Who is Asmahan?"

     "She is Iskander's wife. He thinks she is still alive."

     Ulrika stared at Veeda. "I did not know he was married," she said. And then she knew the truth: Iskander was not searching for remnants of his tribe, but for one woman. And it was not out of an ancient rivalry that he sat here and plotted the deaths of the men who camped on the other side of the mountain pass, but a need to take revenge on men whom he believed had killed that woman.

     Ulrika was sad for Iskander. So much senseless killing. Iskander's tribe wiped out. Veeda's clan gone. And now Iskander wanting to erase his enemy from the face of the earth. When would it end?

     "Caravan!" Iskander shouted as he sprinted up the stone steps to the terrace. "A caravan is coming!"

     Ulrika turned to look back over the plain and saw, beneath the morning sun, an astonishing sight: hundreds of camels, horses, and donkeys, laden with packs and riders, slowly snaking their way across the flat plain. Lifting the spit from the fire—she was roasting a skinned hare, the fat dripping into the flames and causing delicious snapping sounds—she set it aside, rose to her feet, and shielded her eyes against the sun's glare.

     The familiar, and welcome, sound of jingling camels' bells rode on the breeze that wafted over the royal terrace. And Ulrika thought anxiously: will this be the last caravan? Should I go south with it?

     The three hurried from their camp, excited, wondering where the traders had come from, where they were going, what exotic goods and people they brought. The prior caravan to come through the valley had turned out
to be transporting the Grand Vizier's personal library, and Ulrika and her friends had learned that the Grand Vizier kept his 117,000-volume library organized while traveling with it by training his camels to walk in alphabetical order.

     As she neared the noisy gathering of camels and horses and men, Ulrika heard Zeroun the Armenian's booming voice fly up to the winter clouds. "I tell you, my friend, I understand your homesickness! It is something we all feel! I myself sometimes long for my homeland! Let me tell you, holding onto something precious and dear is the way to anchor oneself in a foreign land. It is the
key."

     She stopped and stared.

     His voice rolled across the compound like thunder, rising above the noise of braying camels and shouting men. "Especially a man like yourself, sir, who goes out into the unknown, seeking for he knows not what. Oh, you can be very focused, you can be very attentive and concentrate very hard on your exploration, but if you do not hold tightly to something that has meaning for you, then you do not put your whole heart into that exploration. Something holds you back, does it not? No matter how hard you try?"

     Ulrika watched him and realized that Zeroun was not looking at his guest, but over the man's shoulder, locking eyes with
her.

     And then he turned away and, putting his arm over his guest's shoulders, said, "That is the key to success in everything, my friend! I pray you have the courage to take what advice I offer here today! After all, it is free!" And his roaring laughter faded as the two stepped through the doorway of the inn.

     While Ulrika remained where she was, staring after them.

     And then she turned and hurried back to the ruins, leaving Iskander and Veeda to explore the caravan and the visitors.

     As she ran up the steps, she thought: Zeroun is right! She had not realized it until now, but in her meditations, she always held back, afraid that her wandering soul would journey too far and become lost. Would holding something solid indeed anchor her in the real world while her spirit ventured to the other side? Was that the key, and Zeroun the man offering it, as prophesied by the Egyptian fortune-teller? And Miriam, the rabbi's wife?

     She would put it to the test at once. Since they had been preparing breakfast when the caravan came, Ulrika had not eaten since the evening before—a long fast to be sure. And she knew exactly what the "anchor" would be—the scallop shell, for it was hard with sharp edges, and it was precious to her.

     This time, she did not choose a random spot upon which to sit and meditate. She wanted to be as near as possible to the place where the crystal pools might have once been. But she saw nothing that looked like it could have been a reflecting pond or a bath. There were no depressions in the limestone terrace. And then she realized that walking around and using her rational mind was not going to work. She needed to tap into the Divining and perhaps a vision would come to her.

     So she strolled among the columns, slowing her breathing, whispering her brief prayer to the All Mother, and clutching the scallop shell. She felt its roughness on one side, the smoothness on the other. She focused on the feel of the sharp, wavy edge as she ran her fingertips over it. The shell grew large and heavy in her hand. It weighed her down. It anchored her until she felt safe enough to send her spirit out into the unknown.

     As her fear dissolved, a new understanding made itself known to Ulrika: Besides fear, other emotions made the spirit hold back. Anger, jealousy, sorrow ... She realized that the heart must be divested of these shadows so that the spirit could walk in the light.

     Ulrika felt herself grow calm and serene until, soon, her feet carried her as if with a will of their own until she came to a standstill before a massive stone archway. Two mighty columns supported a square lintel. Through the archway, on the other side, the flat terrace continued, and was littered with more debris.

     She stopped and, clasping the scallop shell, closed her eyes again, controlled her breathing, and whispered, "I am here. I am anchored. I am safe. I send forth my soul into the cosmos. Holy All Mother, hear my prayer ..."

     And a reply, like a breeze, a sigh, sounded near and far at the same time.

     
Step through ...

     Ulrika opened her eyes and, with an invigorating intake of breath, slowly releasing it, she stepped through the archway.

     Suddenly she was standing on green grass beneath a vast blue sky, the wind on her face, the sound of bleating goats as they grazed nearby. Where was the stone arch? Ulrika looked around again and, recognizing the ring of mountains that embraced the plateau, realized that she must have gone back to a time before the city had been built.

     She squinted in the sunlight and saw, faintly, through the green trees and grassy plain, the dim shapes of columns and ruined walls. She was still in the City of Ghosts.

     She concentrated, held onto the shell, and repeated her prayer. Now she imagined her inner soul flame, focusing on its flickering light. And the details of the landscape slowly sharpened, colors brightened until they dazzled. And the scene changed again—she stood in a sylvan paradise, surrounded by trembling poplars and whispering fountains. Here, as she watched, beautiful shimmering pools appeared, in all shades of silver and blue, and Ulrika knew she had found the Crystal Pools of Shalamandar.

     A woman appeared before her, tall and beautiful, her long white robes shining in the sun.

     "I remember you," Ulrika said. "You are Gaia, the ancestress of Sebastianus Gallus. Why do you visit me? Is it because of the scallop shell? Do you dwell in this shell?"

     "I am your guardian spirit. You have done well, daughter, for you have learned your lessons. You are no longer arrogant but a true seeker. And so you have now come into your spiritual power. You possess the gift of the Divining, which is a conduit to the Divine. In each generation of your people, one person is born with this spiritual gift. He or she finds and identifies sacred people and places, even sacred objects, so that others might go there and draw solace and comfort from the gods."

     "Yes, I see now ..." Ulrika whispered. The shaman's cave in the Rhineland—she would have sensed it was sacred and thus was a safe place to hide. Iskander's unicorn horn filled with sacred ashes, giving Ulrika a glimpse of religious rituals long ago. And what of Jacob's grave by the Sea of Salt? Had Rachel buried her husband in hallowed ground?

     "This is my purpose? To find sacred places?"

     "It is your destiny, your purpose on earth, daughter, to find the Venerable
Ones and tell the world about them. This is why you were brought back to the place of your beginning."

     "The Venerable Ones! Who are they?"

     "You will know them when you find them. Remember, daughter, the gift of the Divining is a gift from the Goddess, which marks the beginning of your new life. In this gift, you will start again on your true path, and this time you must not stray."

     The pools faded away, Gaia was silenced, and Ulrika found herself standing on the stone terrace of the City of Ghosts. She took a moment to compose herself, to marvel at what she had just experienced, and as she did, realized that she felt profoundly refreshed and invigorated, as if she had slept for a long time, and drunk a cup of bracing tonic. Every muscle and sinew in her body was filled with energy. She had never known such clarity of thought. A side benefit, she realized, of focused meditation.

     When she turned to walk back through the stone arch, she saw Zeroun standing there. And when she saw the smile on his face, another understanding came to her. "You are the Magus," she said.

     "I am. I was a rug merchant when I first came to this valley many years ago. I was carrying carpets to the Indus Valley when my caravan stopped here to rest. But early snows trapped us in this place and we wintered here, my family and I. One cold day I was walking through these ruins when I was visited by an ancient spirit who told me I had been brought here for a special task. And so I have been giving counsel to all who seek truth."

     "Why did you tell us the Magus is a myth?"

     "Because I do not find lost spoons or tell fortunes. I had to be certain that you were a true spiritual seeker."

     She smiled. "Why did you not simply tell me what I must do? Why did you couch your instructions in dialogue with a stranger?"

     "Because the truth is within us all, and a person can only find the key within himself, it cannot be told to him. I am merely a signpost. It is up to you to find the road."

     "Then dare I ask where I can find the Venerable Ones?"