The Jealous God Read online

  “But you say that you cursed him when you found him trapped in the Seventh Gate? How?” Merry Ramsay’s curiosity had gotten the better of her.

  “I should not have done that,” Semiramis admitted and her laughter died abruptly. “It was a bit harsh, but I thought that it would make him better understand my circumstances and clarify my point of view. I wanted him to suffer… suffer the pains of a broken heart as only a woman can suffer them. And yet, it did nothing to improve my relationship with him. Instead of feeling empathy, he reacted as only Adar could react… with anger! I should have known. It is one thing for him to go about rending us asunder, but to suffer the same thing did nothing to quell his violent nature. He was known as Uriel, he who presides over clamor and terror, and, later, as the King of Terrors and the Prince of the Grave. It is difficult to change one’s nature, I've come to realize.”

  “But I don’t understand,” Merry complained. “What exactly did you do to him?”

  “I merely allowed his feminine half to emerge. Adar has done exceptionally well for himself. Always maintaining only the one physical manifestation. Unlike his brothers, Marduk and Nergal. It was ages and ages before I realized what he had done. First to Nergal to create Ereshkigal, and then, to Shammash, and then, to Nebo. They were at his mercy while he maintained his status of Watcher of Watchers. While they slept, he was very busy. Our father has been most tolerant of his favorite son.”

  “Let me get this straight. Are you saying you made him into a woman?” Merry’s voice rose in timbre.

  Mark started forward and Luke gripped his arm.

  “Wot is she sayin’, brother?” Luke hissed at him.

  “Too much!!” He pushed open the door from the porch to the kitchen and the four women there stood up. Gregory and Nicholas also stood when he entered the kitchen and both he and Luke Matthew were shocked to see the young men’s mother, Aurora, standing silently between them. The only missing members of the ‘lost family’ were William von Hetz and Dunya.

  “Lord Adar!” Semiramis was the first to speak. “It is a great pleasure to see you again.” She inclined her head and smiled graciously.

  “Whattar ye doin’?” he asked her and looked about the room at the assembled group. “Why did ye come ’ere?!”

  “Lord Nanna summoned her, Mark Andrew,” Meredith answered. “And Diana as well.”

  “Lord Nanna?” Mark blinked at them.

  “Of course.” Diana nodded. “We would never have ventured from the Hesperides without his protection.”

  “And well ye shud not!” Mark was livid with rage.

  “But why would you be angry with us, Lord Adar?” Semiramis asked. “We have done nothing wrong. We were merely discussing a bit of history and getting to know each other. A visit such as this is long overdue. Your mother suggested I come and meet your wife and your brother. She said they were very pleasant creatures and so they are! And surprisingly beautiful. You still have a fondness for fair-haired maidens, I see.”

  “Luke!” Merry came around the table and took her husband by the arm. Her eyes were wide with excitement and her cheeks were flushed deep pink. She seemed totally unaware of the explosive situation around her. Her only thought was she was finally learning the answers to many questions she had always wanted to know. “This is soooo interesting! Do you realize your brother and Sister Meredith are actually members of the lost race of Atlantis? And Atlanteans, were often not male or female, but both. And Sister Meredith is not a carbon copy of me or me of her or whatever, but an altogether different creature."

  "And I was right! Mark Andrew really was Merlin, the Magician, just like I thought all along. And Carlisle Corrigan is not a faery at all, but an Atlantean. That is why we all thought he was so weird. And that means little Selwig is really very special. This is wonderful! And everyone is kin to everyone else. Just one big happy family! My only question is who built the Great Pyramid? I’ve always wondered about it. I just don’t believe those stories on television about the ramps and stuff. And oh, oh…” She literally jumped up and down slightly in front of him. “I would like to know if the monkey face on mars is real or just a natural rock formation like the astronomers say.”

  “Lord Adar built the Great Pyramid, my child.” Semiramis smiled at Mark Andrew and the Knight winced visibly. “He wanted to teach the children of Khem how to attain true enlightenment. And Lord Nergal constructed the temple on the Red Planet though it has lain long unused. He liked the little primates that populated this world then and even brought some to live on his planet, but, of course, it was a hopeless endeavor.”

  Luke stared at his wife for several seconds and then folded neatly into his brother’s arms.

  “Dunna just stand thair!” Mark Andrew shouted at his great-grandsons. “’elp me with ’im!”

  The two young men scurried around the table and helped him pick up the fainted Knight.

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Vanni stopped playing his drum and watched the three kilt-clad men walk rapidly through the patio and continue on into the meadow north of the house. He laid his drum on the table and stood in one of the chairs looking after them until they topped the first rise and then disappeared into the dell. He leaped lightly to the bricks and ran after them. By the time he reached the oak grove in front of the chapel, they had disappeared inside the structure.

  Vanni flitted from tree to tree, skirting the parking lot, approaching the building from the west. He scrabbled onto the wide window ledge and pressed his face against one of the clearer sections of green glass at the feet of St. Germaine. He could see them working feverishly on one of the tall columns on the left side of the altar. Luke Andrew reached inside the column and backed slowly away, holding a bundle wrapped in white cloth. The son of the Chevalier du Morte tripped over the raised portion of the floor and fell sitting down, banging his head and shoulder against the altar table.

  The oak altar table, holding a multitude of votive candles, rocked back and then set down again with a resounding boom, depositing several of the little glass holders on his head. Vanni could hear him shouting as the things bounced off his bare head and crashed on the stone floor. Michael ran toward him to help him and crashed into Galen who was doing the same. The two boys bounced off each other and landed in the broken glass, shrieking and groaning as the glass cut into their hands and bare legs. Galen reached for the edge of the altar table, caught hold of the linen cloth instead and dumped several more of the votive glasses down onto them as they tried to get up.

  “Great Scot!” Luke stood up, rubbing his head. He turned and started off, stepped on one of the glasses and almost fell again before Michael managed to catch him.

  Vanni slid off the window sill and made his way around to the front doors as the three injured thieves headed for the door leading down to the crypt. He opened the door cautiously and stepped inside, sliding along the wall around the sanctuary until he reached the heavy door under the bell tower. Just as he peeked into the bell tower, he heard another shriek and the sound of someone tumbling down the stairs.

  Vanni shook his head in wonder. There were many echoing grunts and muffled curses and then hurried footsteps from below. Vanni pressed himself against the cool stone wall and made his way down the steps to the sandy corridor below the apse. Two of the torches had been lighted and the flames cast deep shadows in the nooks and crannies. The son of the Golden Eagle peered cautiously both ways and then followed the sounds of more grumbling, a short shriek and scuffling noises as another of them was somehow injured.

  “Ow!” Galen stood up again and pulled a shard of glass from his knee and then licked his thumb where the glass cut his finger in the process. Luke was sitting in front of a smooth patch of plastered wall under a very low stone arch. He pressed his hands together and began to chant an incantation that would open the sealed tomb of some long-dead Templar. The wall cracked loudly and Michael jumped back as a chunk of the old ceiling fell on his head, showering him with dust and debri
s.

  “Good grief!” Michael looked about and Vanni drew his head back. “The whole place will come down on us.”

  “Hush!” Luke hissed at them. “I’m trying to concentrate here!” He began the incantation again and more cracks appeared in the plaster. Again, chunks of the ceiling rained down on the three of them, filling the passage with choking dust. They coughed and waved their bloodied hands in front of their faces.

  “Dammit!” Luke Andrew stood up and picked up the bundle from the floor. “You might be right. This is not working.” He looked up at the ceiling and got an eyeful of sand for his trouble.

  “We have to hurry,” Michael reminded him and tried to take the bundle from him while he rubbed his eye in vain. “We’re running out of time. The meeting.”

  “I know! I know!” Luke yanked on the cloth angrily and a glittering object slid from the tattered cloth and fell into the grit. “Now look what you’ve done!”

  Half-blinded, Luke stepped forward and inadvertently kicked the skull with one foot. An orange light erupted in the dark chamber briefly as the skull rolled over on its crown.

  “Owww!” He hopped about holding his the tip of his boot with one hand and his injured eye with the other.

  Galen bent to pick up the skull and banged heads with Michael.

  “Would you be careful?!” Galen rubbed his head and pressed his hand against the bandage on his face gingerly. The formerly white bandage was now gritty and brown and smeared with blood.

  “Me?!” Michael rubbed his own head, thoroughly mussing his long, black hair. “Watch what you’re doing.” He turned to take Luke’s arm. “Let me help you, Uncle.”

  “Where’s the skull?”

  “I have it.” Galen held it up.

  “Let’s just take it back upstairs and put it back in the pillar,” Michael suggested. “It was safe up there all this time. We can come back tonight or something… if we manage to get back upstairs without breaking our necks.”

  “Maybe you’re right,” Luke told him. “Let’s get out of here before the roof caves in.”

  Vanni turned about and rushed back up the corridor, up the stairs and hid in one of the mahogany confessional booths. He pulled back the curtain cautiously and watched the three unfortunate Scots as they exited the bell tower and tramped back to the pillar. Galen’s belt had become loose somehow and Michael stepped on it as it trailed behind him. The belt yanked at Galen abruptly, ripping his kilt pin from the cloth and his kilt from his waist.

  Galen spun around, shrieking again, and almost dropped the glittering skull before Michael caught it. Luke cursed under his breath and came back to help Galen with his clothes, stabbing himself in the gloom with the bent kilt pin. When Galen was properly dressed again, they proceeded with caution toward the pillar, taking each step as if walking in a mine field. Luke opened a portion of the ornately carved stone and Michael put the skull back inside without the wrapping. He closed the panel quickly and then leaned against the column, rubbing first his eye then his ankle and then his knee.

  “Jesus Christ, please save us,” Galen muttered as he looked at his filthy kilt.

  Michael punched his cousin’s arm. “Dammit, Galen! Don’t curse in church! We have enough freaking trouble already!”

  “I’m sorry!” Galen shook his head and looked up at the crucifix above the altar.

  “Come on! We'll have to have a better plan. There is more power here than I reckoned,” Luke said as he limped up the center aisle. “We’ll come back later.”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  “I don’t understand…” Constance tightened her grip on Joey’s hand. Joey shook her head slightly and pressed one finger against her lips. The two women stood near the door of Joel Isaac’s bedroom in the postern gate, watching as Reuben and one of the physicians from the Isle of Ramsay hovered in front of the inert figure.

  Bari sat on the rug at the foot of his bed, staring into space above the doctor’s head. The old medic leaned close to the young man and shined a small light into first one eye and then the other while Reuben knelt beside him, ready for almost anything.

  “The pupil does not dilate or contract.” The doctor shook his head. “It is almost as if he is dead, sir.”

  Reuben snorted and wiggled his nose. There was something in this room, something about this boy made his face itch and his nose run every time he came near him.

  “Do you recognize that language?” the eldest d’Ornan brother asked the old man.

  The doctor frowned and listened to the melodious sounds emanating from the patient’s barely moving lips. The sounds were most pleasant, soothing, hypnotic and just audible.

  “It sounds almost Italian, if you ask me, but I’m no linguist.” The doctor pushed himself up on creaking knees.

  Reuben gave him a hand up and picked up his bag before escorting him to the door. Joey and Constance stepped aside to let them into the hall.

  “I’ll be back.” Reuben kissed his wife gently on the forehead and turned to his sister-in-law. “Stay with her.” He frowned. “Perhaps you should just stay here in the hall. I’m going to find Father Crispin. The monks tell me he knows many languages. Perhaps he can help.”

  Constance nodded and Joey squeezed his arm.

  “Keep the door bolted!” He shook his head. He did not quite trust Joey with Bari. Her heart was too big and he was too dangerous. She simply didn’t understand.

  Joey sighed and nodded slightly. Reuben took the elderly doctor’s arm and led him toward the stairs. The old man was half-blind. They needed new blood on the island. Good doctors were becoming very hard to find amongst the Templar ranks.

  Joey watched until her husband disappeared and then turned to Constance.

  “Did you hear what he was saying?” she whispered.

  “He said ‘keep the door bolted’.” Constance picked up a soiled sheet from the floor and draped it over her arm. The room had been a mess when they had come up to bring Joel’s supper. The sheet smelled of frankincense oil or myrrh and something else made her eyes water.

  “No, no. Not Reuben. Joel!” Joey looked at the closed door. “Did you hear what he was saying?”

  “I didn’t understand a word of it.” Constance reached for the pillowcases. “Let’s go down and find something to drink, Joey. Some tea or hot chocolate? We can put these on to wash and come back up. He’ll be fine. I’ve seen trances before. That’s all it is. Simeon and his brothers used to do it all the time when they were his age. They used to scare us girls to death, speaking in tongues and acting weird. Boys will be boys.”

  “I don’t think so.” Joey placed one hand on the bolt and the other on the door knob. “I want to hear more. It was clear to me. He was talking about his baby.”

  “His baby?!” Constance covered her sister-in-law’s hand on the bolt. “No! Joey! Listen to me. Reuben said that he is dangerous. He did something very, very bad, Joey. Simeon wouldn’t tell me and Simeon tells me everything. He wouldn’t tell me about this. I don’t like it. It’s unnatural and whatever he’s doing in there is not right. He’s too young to have babies, Joey. You know better than any of these others. He is just a child no matter what he looks like.”

  Joey listened in silence and then drew back the bolt.

  Constance stepped back and shook her head in frustration. She had no idea what to do. She wanted to run after Reuben, but she didn’t want to leave Joey here alone.

  Joey pulled the door open just a crack and Bari’s voice drifted to them. Constance stepped closer.

  “Don’t go inside, please,” Constance whispered.

  “I won’t. Just listen.” Joey’s face lit up. “It’s so beautiful. How can he do that?”

  Constance turned her ear toward the sound. It was more like a song than a dialog. She could see him still sitting motionless on the floor.

  “He’s telling his son how much he loves him, and how he longs to be with him, and how much he looks forward to the day when they will walk together unde
r the blue skies, and he will teach him all the knowledge of the Universe,” Joey whispered to her sister-in-law.

  Constance’ jaw dropped, and she slammed the door closed in spite of Joey’s protests.

  “All the knowledge of the Universe?!” She backed away from Joey in terror. “Joey! I don’t want to hear this! I can’t listen! Leave me alone!” She clamped her hands over her ears, dropping the linens on the floor and then sat down on the floor.

  Joey bolted the door again and helped the fainting woman to her feet.

  “I’m sorry, Connie,” she said. “Truly. Let’s go down and get that tea. OK?”

  ((((((((((((()))))))))))))

  Vanni waited until he heard the doors close and then crept out of the confessional. He could not understand why these three would be trying to steal something belonged to the church. Greta had told him the church was where God lived and everything in the church belonged to God. It would not be wise to steal from God! Surely, God would punish him severely if he allowed this thing to happen. Greta had told him punishment from God was swift and sure. He looked about the gloomy interior of the sanctuary and the hair on the back of his neck prickled. He had never been in the building alone, and he did not like the feeling. His sensitive ears picked up furtive rustling noises and tiny clicks and creaks and squeaks; and there were many objects that glowed of their own accord. He hurried to the pillar and examined the area where he had seen Luke open the secret panel. If he had not seen it done, he would never have noticed the smooth seams blending perfectly into the decorations carved on the stone. He ran his fingers over the seam until he found a slight depression and pushed on it gently. The surface seemed to sink minutely and then the small door swung open on hidden hinges. He drew a sharp breath at the sight of the gleaming crystal skull that sat in the secret vault, two tiny points of orange, staring at him from hollow sockets.