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  The women glanced at one another fearfully, wondering if any of them would also prove to be weak links.

  Agatha’s high voice broke the silence. ‘But Gran, Del is my friend.’

  Meggie sighed. ‘Aye, I know, love. But sometimes we have hard burdens to bear. I’m sorry. You must forget about him.’

  Agatha swallowed, clearly close to tears. ‘I will!’ she said fiercely. ‘Oh, how could he have been so stupid!’

  The women looked with tenderness upon Agatha. Tamara had changed the girl’s future for her. Agatha’s destiny had been linked with Delmar’s. In a few years’ time, she was to have taken him as her lover for a few scant nights before he was sacrificed to the elements. Now this sacrament, this flowered path to womanhood, had been snatched away from her.

  ‘Come now,’ Meggie said. ‘We have work to do this night. Bolster’s Bed awaits our attentions! Put any thoughts of Delmar or Tamara from your minds. They are no longer our concern, although I shall do my best to keep a weather eye on the boy. Tamara’s own actions will give birth to her punishment.’ She picked up her mug of tea. ‘Drink up, now. It’s a cold night and we’ve a long walk ahead of us.’

  The Pelleth had been preparing the ancient sacred sites for some time, doing what they could to prime them for the solstice night, when they believed Shemyaza would awaken the serpent, and all the sites would be flooded with energy. They drove in two cars up to the edge of the moorland, and then proceeded on foot to Bolster’s Bed, a fogou, or underground artificial burial chamber, where the body of Bolster the Giant was reputed to lie. Each woman carried a bag containing their ritual equipment. They were all dressed in black cloaks, beneath which they wore their ritual robes. The night was dark, so several of the company carried electric torches, gliding silently past darkened farms and drowsing sheep. Meggie thought about how, in the old days, they would have walked by the wavering light of hurricane lamps, or candle jars, but even the ancient order of Cornish witches had to make concessions to the century. Now that the population of ‘outsiders’ had grown, and there were more tourists about, it was more practical to carry lights that could be switched on and off with speed and the minimum of fuss. The Pelleth were adept at melting away into the darkness, if necessary.

  The fogou was set into a hillside, its entrance flanked by listing stones, topped by a cracked lintel. A curving passageway led to the chamber itself, and the women had to walk in single file along it. The ceiling was so low, they had to stoop, and as they eased their way forward, they were surrounded by an intense perfume of earth. Meggie was depressed by the evidence of mindless humanity that littered the floor of the passage: crumpled sweet wrappers, an empty Coke can. She gestured for one of the company to pick up the offending items and place them in a carrier bag brought for that purpose.

  When they reached the chamber, Rachel set up a circle of candles and lit them. Lissie prepared the incense, lighting a charcoal and sprinkling a few fragrant grains upon its glowing core. Jessie unpacked the spirit bowl, while Betsy uncapped a wide glass jar of herbal unguent. With her bare fingers, she scooped out a large handful of the mixture and transferred it to a silver dish. Meggie took the dish from her and smeared the unguent at the four elemental quarters, representing air, fire, water and earth. When the site was finally empowered by the serpent, the unguent would help open the channels for the energy to flow.

  When all was ready, the women sat down in a circle. Lissie held the spirit bowl in her lap, and began to stroke its inner surface with the sounding stick, conjuring a ringing resonance in the low chamber. The rest of the women whispered a soft chant and concentrated on the image of their goddess, Seference: ‘Om Sefer, Tu Sefer, Sefer, Sefer, Sahar.’ Gradually, their voices rose in timbre and the song of the spirit bowl rang out, enhancing the inherent energies of the site. As their chant intensified, the Conclave felt the tired, latent dynamism around them start to hum and wake up. Soon it vibrated throughout their bodies. Their actions were not enough to awaken the serpent fully, but they could make it shift in its sleep.

  As the energy and sound swirled around them, Meggie addressed the ancient Giant king who was buried there. ‘You will soon awaken, Ancient One. Your time is near.’

  ‘Your time is near!’ echoed the company.

  The women didn’t stay long at the Penhaligons’ that night, and the cheerful banter that usually took place around the table after a night’s work was absent. Although the Conclave had succeeded in forgetting their dilemmas during their ritual, gloom descended upon them once the work was done. Meggie felt weary herself, and beyond chivvying the rest of them into lighter spirits.

  After the rest of the women had left, and Agatha had gone to bed, Meggie and Betsy sat alone at either end of the table. They drank strong, sweet tea in silence, each lost in her own thoughts. Then Betsy said, ‘Megs, we must see to the matter of the oracle.’

  Meggie nodded. ‘I know.’ She sighed. ‘We must find a replacement for Delmar very soon.’

  ‘Tonight,’ Betsy said.

  Meggie looked into her sister’s face. ‘The mirror?’

  Betsy nodded. ‘Aye.’

  That night, before retiring, Meggie and Betsy took out their velvet-wrapped scrying mirror. The two women had already put on their nightgowns and their long grey hair was braided down their backs. Meggie wore a heavy, fringed shawl of scarlet wool against the nip of the night-air, while Betsy was buttoned to the neck in a housecoat of thick pink velour. In a dark corner of Betsy’s bedroom, which smelled of old face powder, they sat down upon two stools with the mirror between them. Their bent heads were almost touching.

  ‘Seference, show us the face of he who comes after,’ Betsy said. ‘Show us the face of the oracle, he who must be ours.’

  The dark surface of the mirror seemed to be the portal to a bottomless void. The suggestion of faint, distant stars spun in its depths.

  ‘There,’ Betsy said. ‘I see a boy. Ah, he is beautiful, and he has the way of wyrd within him.’

  Meggie’s eyes were watering, and the image of the boy in the glass seemed to be in soft focus to her. ‘It is Shemyaza’s vizier,’ she breathed. ‘The one named Daniel.’ She glanced up at Betsy who was still concentrating on the image. ‘But how can we bring him to us?’

  ‘Through the woman, his protectress,’ Betsy answered. ‘She has been given extended life..’

  ‘Emilia!’ Meggie exclaimed.

  Betsy narrowed her eyes at the mirror. ‘She calls herself Emma now.’

  Meggie shook her head. ‘But they are both connected with the Grigori! I don’t like this.’

  ‘Don’t doubt Seference,’ Betsy said without rancour. ‘She would never speak false. The opportunity will come to us. I’ve a feeling, because of Miss Trewlynn mucking around, Daniel Cranton will want to work with us.’

  ‘Tamara won’t have that much influence,’ Meggie said. ‘She’s no threat to anyone.’

  Betsy shook her head. ‘She will cause tremors in the earth and the aether. Like a midge, she’ll buzz in our ears and be too quick for us to swat.’

  ‘Perhaps,’ Meggie murmured, shaking her head. ‘But if this Daniel is Shemyaza’s vizier, he will have great sight. He will know how the office of oracle must end. He won’t want to offer up his life for us.’

  ‘We must reach him through the woman,’ Betsy repeated. ‘When the serpent wakes, every man and woman in the land will become aware of their destiny, and if that is to be sacrifice, so be it. Everyone will accept their portion.’

  Meggie frowned, still staring into the mirror. ‘I don’t like the idea of attracting Grigori followers. We have always shunned the Grigori and their kind.’

  Betsy nodded. ‘True. But this is a changing time, Megs. We have to make good use of the tools that fall in our lap, no matter how sharp they seem to our clumsy fingers.’ She turned the mirror over and reached for its velvet wrap. ‘The time will come, you’ll see. We’ll need to expend no effort to bring the boy to us.’

  Chap
ter Twenty-One

  The Parzupheim

  The Parzupheim in the United Kingdom and Ireland consisted of representatives from twelve Grigori families. Enniel Prussoe administered the ancient kingdom of Cornwall, while his colleagues held sway in other parts of England, Ireland, Scotland and Wales. To the Grigori, all of the countries and islands around England were one, known as the empire of Albion

  They began arriving at High Crag around mid-day, when Austin came to wake Shemyaza with a tray of lunch. Having not gone to sleep until well past five in the morning, neither Daniel nor Shem felt like facing an interrogation from the Parzupheim. Shem insisted he wanted Daniel to accompany him to the meeting, although privately Daniel wondered whether Enniel would allow that. Even though he was now officially a dependant of the Grigori, having been bestowed longevity, he was still only human. Austin brought them clean clothes, presumably donated by Enniel. Daniel, wanting to make a good impression, dressed himself in a loose white shirt and black trousers, but Shem pointedly donned the clothes he had arrived in; ripped black jeans and a faded T-shirt. His hair hung in a matted, pale tangle nearly to his waist.

  ‘If the way I look bothers them, they don’t deserve my attention,’ he said in response to Daniel’s critical glances.

  At two o’clock, Enniel himself came up to Shem’s room. As Daniel had anticipated, he seemed reluctant to allow anyone but Shemyaza to attend the meeting, but Shem was adamant. ‘If Daniel doesn’t come, neither do I.’ Grudgingly, Enniel gave his consent, and led them to a meeting chamber on the first floor

  Daniel was afraid of running into Taziel, but they saw no-one as they walked along the hushed corridors, past many closed doors. Enniel halted before a pair of double-doors, carved with stylised representations of the peacock angel. He glanced back at Shem. ‘Are you ready?’

  Shem shrugged. ‘As I’ll ever be, I suppose.’

  Enniel flung the doors wide and they went into the room beyond. It was a high-ceilinged chamber, with long, stained-glass windows flanked by heavy drapes. Natural light came only dimly into the room.

  The Parzupheim were seated around a round table. Daniel counted twelve men and one woman.

  ‘That’s Sofia,’ Shem murmured. ‘The mother spider, but I don’t think they realise it.’

  Every head, but for Sofia’s, turned or looked up to regard Shem as he walked towards them. Sofia concentrated on lighting a cigarette. Daniel was immediately wary of her. He sensed her power, and the darkness of it.

  ‘Shemyaza has requested that his vizier attend this meeting,’ Enniel said, as he gestured for Shem and Daniel to take a seat facing the window.

  Daniel sat down nervously. His position made it difficult to see clearly the faces of those sitting opposite him.

  Sofia exhaled a curling serpent of smoke. ‘That is reasonable enough.’ She smiled at Daniel, but he couldn’t manage to return it.

  Once everyone was seated, Austin came round with small blue bottles of mineral water and glasses, which he placed before each attendee. A pen and a note-pad, embellished with the Prussoe seal, already lay before every place. The mundanity of it was unnerving. There was a hushed, expectant atmosphere in the room; people spoke in whispers. Daniel poured himself some water for his throat was dry. A residue of the effects of last night’s ritual still shimmered around him; he could taste the history of the water as he drank it. Over the rim of glass, he inspected the Grigori around the table. Beautiful men, like models or actors, but whose eyes burned with cold fire. They are angels, Daniel thought. This is a host of angels.

  Enniel took his seat last and cleared his throat. He made a small speech about welcoming Shemyaza to High Crag and introduced his colleagues. While he spoke, Daniel watched Sofia. When it was her turn to be introduced, she smiled at the table. It appeared she was based in India and had been allowed admittance as a ‘foreigner’ only because of her involvement with the case. ‘Also,’ she interrupted Enniel’s explanation, ‘because Shemyaza’s advent affects the whole world, not just the empire of Albion. I sit here as an agent of other Parzupheim.’

  And not just that, Daniel thought.

  She gestured languidly at the men. ‘Of course, we all appreciate Shemyaza’s work must be initiated here, in these isles.’

  ‘Really!’ Shem leaned back in his seat with his arms folded. ‘I’m most interested to hear how!’

  Sofia gave him an appreciative glance. Daniel realised that she thought Shem and herself were conspirators. ‘That, I suppose, is another reason why I am here.’ She glanced around the table. ‘May I tell Shemyaza of the suggestions that have been discussed?’

  All assented, although not without reluctance. Daniel guessed the Parzupheim were uncomfortable with an outsider taking a leading role in this business. But Sofia made it known, from her cool glances to her very body posture, that she had been sent by Grigori who outranked these men; it shone from her aura as amused defiance.

  Sofia smiled at Shem. ‘It is my opinion, and that of my colleagues abroad, that you must begin your work by reawakening the sacred sites, or holy omphali, of these lands.’

  Almost immediately, Enniel interrupted. ‘We are aware of that, Sofia. But surely, Shemyaza’s first task is to become familiar with...’ He glanced at Shem in faint apology. ‘Forgive me, but I feel you need to understand yourself before you can extend your powers out into the world.’

  Sofia uttered a small gust of a sigh. ‘I feel you under-estimate your guest.’

  All waited for Shem to respond, but he only lifted his shoulders in a shrug.

  Daniel felt as if the cloak of feathers had just dropped heavily onto his shoulders again. He realised then exactly why Shem had wanted him there. ‘We need to hear all that you have to say before decisions are made,’ he said.

  One of the Parzupheim expelled a cough of sarcastic laughter. ‘We?’ He looked at Enniel. ‘This boy is merely a dependant. I am not comfortable with this “we”. The involvement of humanity in Grigori affairs brings only confusion and greed.’

  Daniel fought a blush of embarrassment. He knew he had to hold his own in front of these people. Before Enniel could answer, he said, ‘I am Shemyaza’s vizier, his adviser. The age of this body has little to do with the maturity of my soul, or the fact that once I lived in Grigori flesh.’

  Still, Shem did not speak. Daniel would have appreciated at least some support, but knew it would not be forthcoming.

  Surprisingly, Sofia said, ‘I can vouch for Daniel’s presence here.’

  Daniel’s antagonist pulled a disapproving face, then shrugged resignedly. ‘I would not presume to argue with you, Sofia.’

  Not openly, anyway, Daniel thought.

  Sofia directed caustic smiles around the table. ‘So, may I continue?’ She waited for comments, but none came, then directed her attention back to Daniel. ‘For many centuries, the rituals of the Grigori have been stagnant, for the life force of the land is dormant. The same conditions prevail around the world, to greater or lesser degrees. We cannot call upon the power of the land with the same success as once we could. It is essential that the power is made available to us, so that we may guide the civilisations of earth into the new age. Eventually, we hope to regain access to the star-gate, and find our way back to the source.’ She laced her hands before her on the table and looked at Shem. ‘Shemyaza, many thousands of years ago, your actions caused the Anannage, our ancestors, to withdraw from this world. They closed the star-gate to us, effectively cut us off from the influence this world knows as god, or gods. It is your task to help us reclaim our heritage. And you can begin here. Beneath this land, a great force lies slumbering. Only you can reawaken it. Once you do, energy will course along the corridors of ancient sites from here to all corners of Albion.’

  ‘Just a moment.’ One of the Parzupheim interrupted her. He stood up, a pale man with a shock of thick black hair and dark green eyes. ‘Why should Shemyaza begin work here? It is surely more sensible for him to reawaken the power in the mid-shire
s, the very centre of the empire?’

  Another stood, whose long brown hair was held back at his neck. ‘No! The sacred soil of Eire is where his work should begin. The energy has stirred in its sleep more regularly there, and would require less effort to revive.’

  Suddenly, the whole company were on their feet, all arguing about where Shemyaza should begin, each championing his own area as the most likely location. Sofia remained seated, as did Daniel and Shem. Sofia shook her head in private amusement.

  Eventually, Enniel’s voice thundered louder than all the rest. ‘Be seated! Are we a mindless rabble to bicker this way? No. Listen to me. Where was it that our ancestors first made land-fall, when they arrived from Phoenicia? Where did they emplace the serpent?’ Everyone had quietened down and were resuming their seats with disgruntled mumbles.

  ‘Here!’ Enniel said, his eyes sparking. ‘Their first steps were upon Cornish soil. How can you argue about the location for Shemyaza’s work? It is here, it has to be! If all goes well in this place, Shemyaza need never set foot on any other part of this country. The alignments and the energy matrix itself will see to that.’

  ‘He is right,’ Sofia said softly into the silence that followed.

  Then tumult broke out again. Daniel glanced at Shem, who raised a single, scornful eyebrow. He reached out and touched Daniel’s face, as if they were alone in the room. Daniel could not help but derive a certain amount of satisfaction from the gesture.

  Shemyaza’s caress effectively stemmed the argument around them. All eyes turned towards Shem with indignant surprise. There were times and places for dalliance with human dependants, and a meeting of the Parzupheim was not one of them.