The Perfect Sun Page 3

  “Yeah, it’s supposed to be lonely at the top. I find it quite lonely at the bottom.”

  “You are far from the bottom, my son, my prince. You have simply had a bad experience with love.”

  “Love? You mean Jasmine?” He asked. Jasmine had been the closest thing to true love.

  “Jasmine, Sophia, your sister.”

  “You didn’t need to mention her.” He disengaged his arm and took a few steps away, bending to examine a crystal outcrop on the cliff.

  “She loves you, Luke. Trust me, I know. She loved you even when she was Omar’s wife. Her love for you is pure. It was simply her misunderstanding of your relationship to her that was skewed. I envy her.” The queen remained standing, staring out across the trees at nothing.

  “You envy Nicole? That’s ridiculous!” He looked up at her in surprise. “Nicole is dangerous even to herself.”

  “Nicole is your other half, Luke, and she loves you. She wants to be with you, to join with you. Not sexually. That was a misunderstanding. She knew no other way to accomplish what her heart told her should have been. She knows now her mistake and you should forgive her. It is nothing new under the sun for our kind. Your father suffered an accident. He lost his memory, and he didn’t really want to regain it. He wanted his past to go away, and you and your sister were a result of that lapse. Had he known what he was doing, he wouldn’t have done it. You and Nicole would have never been. But that is really a contradiction, for everything that is, it is the will of God, the eternal Creator. In other words, if it had been left up to Mark Ramsay, you would not have existed, but it was not up to him. Have you never studied mythology? Do you never wonder where those stories came from? Incest is only something that applies to humans. Not angels, not gods. For with gods and angels, there is no separation of male and female for they are one, perfect and whole. This is what Nicole wants more than anything. Unity. This is why she gravitates toward anyone who remotely resembles you. Your Uncle Luke for instance.”

  “I don’t want to hear this. Nicole tried to tell me something like this. It is unnatural. I don’t want to be one with my sister. I want to be Luke Andrew, not some hermaphroditic freak.”

  “Now you see? You are falling for the same siren song your father hears. He wants to be human. He cannot be human. You cannot be human. You have to stop thinking like a human or you will never be a god. You will never even be an angel.”

  Luke stood slowly and looked into her clear blue eyes.

  “Then why are you not an angel? I thought you were a goddess or something.”

  “I have powers enabling me to be a goddess to the primitive peoples of this world, but I am ruined as long as I remain separate from my other half and that is why I am jealous of Nicole. I detest and despise my other half. Marduk! Such a vile and wicked creature. How can I join with him, Luke? Do you not think I enjoy my beauty? My world?”

  “I don’t know. Maybe you and I have a great deal more in common than you believe.”

  “I would gladly join with Mark Andrew, but not Marduk, and yet I see he has joined with Sophia, and the option no longer remains open. It was only right and fitting.”

  “I don’t understand,” Luke insisted. Sophia was in Scotland with the real Mark Andrew. The human Mark Andrew. “Wait. Do you mean to tell me that my father, the one in New Persia Major, is an angel now, and that is why the human Mark Andrew is released?”

  “Exactly. Your father no longer needs his human body. He is like Lucifer now. He has resumed his spiritual form. He is like Nanna and Meredith. They can come and go as either or both, Nanna, Meredith, John Paul… all the same.”

  “Great Scot! I don’t like to think that Nanna or John Paul is my mother. It’s inconceivable.”

  “No, actually, it was quite conceivable. You and your sister are living proof of that.”

  Luke pressed his fists against his temples and squeezed eyes shut. If only it could all be gone when he opened his eyes. If only this beautiful woman could be just a woman, and this island just an island and he could be the new Robinson Ramsay, things would be perfect. No Nicole. No Mark Andrew. No Omar.

  Omar! His eyes popped open. He hadn’t thought of Omar in what seemed ages.

  “What about your son, Adalune?” He asked way off the subject. “Have you heard from him?”

  “Not recently, no. Lucifer told us he swam away in search of Omar.”

  “In search of Omar? Is Omar lost, then? Again?” Luke’s brow furrowed. The guilt he had felt before assaulted him triple strength.

  “He went after the queen mother. He took the form of the dolphin. He has not returned.” Her eyes were full of sadness. “Adalune was greatly distressed, I am sure. If anyone can find him, Adalune can do it.”

  “But where is Jasmine? Where does Adalune live? I need to speak with him. Can you summon him?”

  “Can you not do it yourself? If you don’t try, Luke, you will never develop your potential.” She placed one hand on his cheek and smiled. “And you have a great deal of potential.”

  “Can you help me? Jasmine was teaching me and then… something happened.”

  “I can possibly teach you a few more tricks.” She took his hand and drew him away from the cliff’s edge, back to the path leading up to her magnificent palace overlooking the sea. He would have liked nothing more than to have stayed with her for the rest of eternity, but….

  Chapter Two of Sixteen

  Behold, I am against thee, saith the Lord of hosts

  “Omar?” The sound was sweet; the voice familiar; the breeze was warm on his face. “Omar? Can you hear me, son?”

  “I hear you, mother.” Omar’s eyes were closed. He was not awake. Jasmine sat down beside him and picked up his hand. The shivering had stopped and his skin had returned to hues of healthy pink and tan. The bizarre tattoos on his upper arms, chest, back and stomach appalled her. She vaguely remembered Omar as a small child through a haze or a veil. Those years had been a terrible time in her life when she had been possessed by the goddess she had once revered and trusted. Oshun had used and abused her form wickedly in those days and even after Lucio had rejoined her physical body with her spirit, she had witnessed the births of Omar and Dunya in her dreams and daydreams. She was not his mother… not really. Omar and Dunya were strictly alchemical creations brought about the Djinni’s magick.

  “Good,” she said and patted his hand. “Do you know where you are?”

  “I’m home,” he said and raised his eyebrows instead of opening his eyes. “I’m happy to be home, Mother. I’ve missed you.”

  “And we’ve all missed you as well.” She did not want to lie to him, nor did she want to disturb him unnecessarily. “Your father is here. Would you like to see him?”

  Lemarik was pacing the hallway outside the bedroom, impatiently waiting to speak to his son, but Omar had been calling for his mother ever since Bombarik’s sentries had found him unconscious on the trail leading up from the beach.

  “I miss him, Mother, but it has been so long since I have seen you…. so long,” his voice trailed off and he drew her hand to his lips, kissing it gently. “I love you, Mother. Didn’t you know that?”

  “Of course, I know it, Omar. Let me get your father for you.” She jerked her golden head at Seleurik, her eldest son by the Ifrit, Bombarik. Her dark-skinned son took the basin of water with which the servants had bathed the Prophet into the hall and left the door open for Lemarik.

  The Djinni swayed quickly into the bedroom and crossed the shining marble. His son lay on a velvet and satin couch, propped on gold and purple cushions, covered by soft white blankets made lamb’s wool. There were scrapes, cuts and bruises on his face, arms and neck. His journey home had been long and dangerous. It was no small wonder he had not been completely destroyed on the rocks during the night.

  Lemarik knelt beside the couch and placed one hand on his son’s cheek.

  “Omar?” He frowned at the peacefully sleeping Prophet.

  “He is still sle
eping, my love,” Jasmine told him quietly. “He speaks, but he will not wake.”

  “Omar? Did you miss me?” He leaned close and placed a kiss on Omar’s nose as if he were a small boy.

  “Of course, I missed you, Father. Did you study your scriptures?” Omar’s dreamy answer made the Djinni draw back.

  “I have studied long and hard, my son.” Lemarik scowled at Jasmine and she shrugged. Omar should have awakened fully alert. He should not be languishing. “Won’t you arise from your bed, and we can speak together about the scriptures as we did in the old days?”

  “That would be most pleasing, Father, for I have missed my sessions with you. I have learned much you should know,” Omar agreed, but did not make any effort to rise. His eyes rolled in his head, and Lemarik felt of his forehead. Cold and clammy. Not natural at all.

  “Tell me what I should know, my Son.” Lemarik leaned even closer to his son. “I am here for you.”

  “Ruth is dead, Father. I am grieved by her death,” Omar’s voice was barely a whisper. “I have seen her rotted corpse. I have seen her head departed from her body, and I have seen the abomination she has become.”

  “I know and I, too, am grieved deeply. We are saddened by her loss. She was a rose sent from Heaven, but the abomination was not Ruth, my son. Ruth has left us for the higher circles of the Greater Life.”

  “The curse is upon us. The seal is broken. We have sinned against God and we shall perish,” Omar’s voice rose in volume slightly and then his eyes snapped open. He gripped his father’s arm in a death grip. “Father, O my Father! I have seen the Gates of Heaven! I have plumbed the Depths of Chaos! In my dreams nothing came close to the Splendor of the Lord! And my nightmares… O my nightmares, they could not foretell the horror of the pits of oblivion. I looked, and I saw the souls of the dead and the souls of the undead and I saw the Uncreate and the face of Chaos! Lo, the gates of hell and the pits of perdition are opened, and the pathway to Heaven is stopped for the Perfect Ones. The Angel of the Lord is come to make known His message, and he wanders in the desert paths eating locusts and honey, and beside him is the evil one. This I have seen in my dream, Father.”

  “Please, please, my beautiful son.” Lemarik pushed him back onto the pillows and covered him with the blanket. “You must rest and regain your strength. You have suffered much and your thoughts are confused. Rest now. Sleep and afterwards we will drink and enjoy one another’s company.”

  Lemarik stood up and Omar collapsed back on the cushions. He was already asleep. In fact, he had never been fully awake.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Leo von Hetz searched hither and thither among the soldiers lounging as best they could in the shade of an overhanging bank cut thousands of years earlier by a long, lost river. The sun was rising over the distant mountains and the Master’s grandsons were going up and down the lines, passing out water in small plastic bottles and canteens. The grandson of the Knight of the Apocalypse was disobeying orders from his Master Christopher Stewart by breaking ranks. He was supposed to be making ready to bed down for the day with the rest of the Templar Apprentices at the end of the column, but he’d not seen his father and grandfather in hours and none he had questioned had seen them either.

  “Von Hetz!” A stern voice made him freeze in his tracks. He turned slowly and found himself face to face with the Grand Master.

  “Sir?!” The young son of Apolonio von Hetz snapped to attention and saluted with the wrong hand.

  “Why are you not with the others?” Edgard’s voice was not nearly as gruff as it had once been, but his demeanor was most disturbing to the younger members of the Order.

  “Your Grace, I’m sorry… I’m looking for my father,” he stammered and looked very uncomfortable in his dirty uniform. His face was streaked with dirt, his curly black hair was tied back in a ponytail and his face was covered with a layer of dark, curly fuzz. He blinked as the sun popped over the bank, striking him in the eyes with a golden glare.

  “If your father wants you, he will call you. Now get back where you belong!” The Grand Master hefted his load of water bottles to his shoulder and started off down the line.

  “But, Sir!” Leo’s desperation outweighed his fear of the Master. “They’ve been gone most of the night. Both of them.”

  Edgard turned again wearily and put down his canvas bag. “Who? Who’s been gone?”

  “My father and grandfather,” he gasped in the dry air. “One of the Baron’s soldiers told me he saw two riders split off from the column early on last night. No one has seen them.”

  Edgard’s shoulders sagged a bit and then he picked up the load again. “Get back with the others and don’t cause a stink, young man. I will check into it and let your father know you miss him.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Leonardo nodded, but his face showed a mixture of fear and disappointment.

  Edgard watched him as he hurried back toward the end of the column. Another problem. That was what he needed. With a sinking feeling, he knew all was not well. He had not seen Konrad or Apolonio when he had returned, and Konrad was usually one of the first of his Knights to find him and ask him what he had encountered on his scouting trips, but this morning only Simon and Christopher Stewart had rode out to meet the returning troops. He finished passing out the water bottles and canteens he carried in his bag and turned back toward the head of the column, where the Knights were gathered with de Goth’s officers for their daily consultations, gripes, commentaries and games of checkers or other slight diversions before turning in for the day under the shade of makeshift tents and lean-tos. Edgard liked to carry the water rations out himself in order to keep in touch with the soldiers personally. If anything were amiss with them, he wanted to know about it right away.

  If, indeed, Konrad and his son were not among the Knights there, he would be forced to mount a rescue operation to try to locate them. There would be no way around it. They had no working radios, no way to communicate with one another since Konrad von Hetz was the only one who might have done so with his mystery. The trek had taken its toll on all the electronic devices they carried. Solar cells would have worked, but they had none. Lemarik’s little mystic band had refused to allow such things into the ark. They’d had a very hard time convincing him to allow them to bring their weapons, but when the water had begun to rise up the mountainside, they had rearranged their priorities and dumped their radios and communication devices before climbing inside the floating barn. Now they were paying the price.

  Simon wandered back to meet him as he approached the tents at the forefront of the expedition.

  “Konrad and Apolonio are missing,” Simon told him almost nonchalantly. “We should ride out and look for them.”

  “You needn’t be so upset, my son.” Edgard dropped his empty bag in the dirt.

  “There is nothing to be upset about, Father,” Simon stuffed his hands in his dirty trouser pockets and looked up at the purpling sky of early morning. “It was only a matter of time before the curse set in.”

  “What curse?” Edgard grumped and sat down on a canvass and wood stool. He pulled off his boot and dumped sand and pebbles out of it. His toes were exposed through his worn socks.

  “The curse of Yahweh,” Simon answered softly and looked away from his father.

  “That is ridiculous. When did this happen? Have you been thinking too much again?” Edgard pulled his boot back on and dumped the other one. “Yahweh has not been seen in over six thousand years. In fact, he was never really seen even when his ‘people’ were professing to have ‘seen’ him. They prayed to the Creator and he intercepted their prayers. They asked God to bless them, and he cursed them instead. If they had only listened to their hearts…” Edgard’s voice trailed off.

  “Be that as it may, someone or something has radically affected our progress. Konrad figured it out yesterday evening. We were comparing notes, and it seems everyone has a different concept of the passage of time. Some say we have been traveli
ng for days, some say weeks. No one can agree on how long it has been since we left the ark. Konrad said it is the same curse Yahweh placed on the Israelites when they murmured against him and built the golden calf. He made them wander in the Sinai for forty years,” Simon explained patiently. “Moses was an adept, Father. You know that. There is no way possible that one such as Moses and his wife Zipporah could have wandered in the confines of the Sinai Peninsula for forty years if left to their own devices. They were cursed. They were not allowed to leave the desert because of the curse of Yahweh. We have come up against him on the Holy Mountain. We have awakened him from his slumber, and he has delivered this curse upon us. Raguel tried to warn us.”

  “Raguel? That blow hard? You heard the argument between du Morte and that over pompous ass. Even his own personal angel hasn’t seen Yahweh in thousands of years. When the children of Israel stopped paying homage to him and stopped obeying his commands, he left them for greener pastures. He was a jealous, vengeful, wrathful, bloodthirsty Demi-god worshipped by a primitive people who didn’t know any better. Why do you think they kept turning from him and worshipping other… how would you say… more carefree deities? He was too hard on them, and he knew it. How can you believe such a thing could be true? If we are cursed to wander for forty years, then how is it that the Golden Eagle could fly away and where, pray tell, is du Morte?”

  “How can you rule it out? If Yahweh is a Demi-god more powerful even than Mark Ramsay, more powerful even than Moses and Aaron and the daughters of Raguel put together, then what makes you think he could not have cursed us just as he cursed them?” Simon asked him quietly.

  Edgard made a disgusted noise and stood up.