I must help him, Daniel thought, but how?

  ‘Think of the High Place,’ Daniel said to Lily. ‘Remember it.’

  ‘Why?’ Her face was buried against his shoulder.

  ‘The goddess. Ishtahar. Summon her, Lily. Be a channel for her.’

  Lily lifted her head and blinked at the sky. ‘There are shadows against the clouds,’ she said.

  ‘It’s Shem,’ Daniel told her. ‘Shem and Sofia. They are battling for his soul.’

  Lily swallowed with a shudder and pushed herself away from Daniel. Slowly, she got to her feet and for a few moments stood swaying before him. Then, she put her hand into the pocket of her dress and took out the cowry shell. She glanced at Daniel. ‘This is our tool.’ He blinked at her slowly to signify his confidence in her, his trust.

  Lily turned away from him and raised her arms to the sky, the shell held aloft in both hands. Her voice was unsteady to begin with, but gradually strengthened into a resonant, pure sound. ‘Ishtahar! Ishtar! Asharah! Astoroth! Enanna! Ereshkigal!’

  Daniel looked up at her, and saw that the cowry shell had begun to vibrate with a deep, blue light. As he stared at it, it turned into what looked like an unblinking eye, which gradually enlarged, its light eclipsing Lily from his sight. Now the eye hung in the air before him, a beautiful dark eye full of the mysteries of female allure, growing in size with every moment. It wept a shining vapour of peacock-blue mist, which swirled up and around it. Slowly, the mist began to take on form; a belly, a torso, breasts swathed in flowing fabric. The goddess formed herself against the sky, a goddess whose belly was adorned with the sacred eye. Ishtahar.

  For a brief moment, she smiled down upon Daniel and Lily and then slowly turned towards the creatures fighting behind her. They were dwarfed by her immense size. The elegant pillars of her legs carried her towards them. Her dark hair, strung with stars, streamed out behind her. Her voice was the clamour of bells. ‘Lilith, my sister whore! Hear me! Know me! See me!’

  The dragon-beast tore its head away from the golden serpent, shining flesh hanging from its red jaws. Its mouth dropped open and an evil hiss cataracted out. ‘Never! You are powerless, feeble goddess!’

  Ishtahar smiled and shook her head. With one gargantuan hand, she reached out and plucked the golden serpent from the dragon’s hold. This she curled around her left wrist, where it clung like a bracelet. Thoughtfully, she put this hand behind her back, as if to protect her precious jewellery.

  The Leviathan screamed its rage and with each horrific bellow increased in size. ‘Fight me! See if your power matches mine!’

  Again Ishtahar laughed. ‘Ah, but your power has already played its part, dark mother. Be gone! You have no purpose here now.’

  The voice of the Sofia-beast boomed out in rage. ‘Played its part? I have only just begun to play. Do not shelter the Shemyaza serpent from me. Release him to finish what is started!’

  Ishtahar shook her head. ‘It is already finished, demoness. You attempt to play out the eternal struggle here today, a struggle as old as time, but you can never win. The source created divine goodness within the Sun King, Shemyaza, and also created all that is evil. Our source is perfect, and to be perfect is to be free, to own the ability to choose between good and evil. Humankind has always had the choice of pursuing the path of light or darkness, for if they did not own this choice, they would be slaves, and the source does not traffic in slaves.’ Her voice lowered. ‘Shemyaza’s struggle to understand this has made him what he is. He can never be yours.’

  Such was the quiet confidence in Ishtahar’s voice, that the vast, twisted Leviathan seemed to shrink before her, its wrath diminish. Its voice was a hoarse croak. ‘You cannot banish me, Ishtahar, for I am part of you. Your dark sister. I am all that you are too weak to be!’

  ‘Indeed, but I have many parts, many sisters and many faces. Listen, do you not hear the siren song of the sea?’ Ishtahar raised her hand and gestured gracefully at the waves, her arm undulating on the air, her long fingers curling and uncurling. Her movement seemed to act as a summons. A high and haunting note, like that uttered by a pure, female voice, lapped off the foaming water, lifted up like mist to drift across the cliff top. The vision of Ishtahar turned and gestured at Lily and Emma. ‘Come, my daughters, call with me to our sister, Seference, who dwells within the light of the sea-foam.’

  As if in a trance, Lily and Emma were drawn to the very edge of the cliff, followed by the Pelleth. Led by Emma, they lifted their voices in a rhythmic chant, ‘Om Sefer, Tu Sefer, Sefer, Sefer, Sahar!’

  Beneath them, the sea began to roil and glow with a vibrant, blue-green radiance. It seemed as if a hundred other female voices rose up from the waves and joined in the chant. The weaving sounds created a harmony that both lulled and excited the senses of everyone assembled on the cliff top. The dragon beat its wings frantically, caught in an unexpected updraught of air. Below it, a wall of iridescent green water slowly rose up into the sky.

  Crouching down behind Lily and Emma, Daniel stared in horror at the smooth mountain of water, fearing that another tidal wave had come to engulf them. But then, within the sheer glassy surface, he saw the dripping and weed-swathed form of an immense woman shimmer into existence. Seference. Her eyes shone green with the dark light of the ocean depths. Her hair was a swirling purl of salty foam. Her body was draped with a shining cloak of black weed, threaded with the spars of long-sunk, forgotten ships. For a brief moment, Daniel thought that within the writhing fibres of Seference’s robe, he could see the faces of Meggie and Betsy Penhaligon peering out, along with a multitude of other female faces he did not recognise. Emotion choked him. He bowed his head.

  Seference’s voice, when she spoke, was the crashing of waves against the jagged coast. ‘Unholy sister, return to the lowest depths of the earth, where you chose to dwell after you cast yourself out from the High Place.’

  The dragon hissed down at her malevolently, its jaws dribbling strings of clotted blood. Its wings clawed against the air, but it was drawn down relentlessly before the wall of water.

  Seference turned her head towards Ishtahar. ‘Sister. Together.’ She extended her arms from the water wall.

  Ishtahar stretched out her own arms and waded towards the waiting embrace of her ocean-born sister. As their palms touched, they corralled the Leviathan between them. It uttered a howl of frustrated fury and lashed its spiny tail. It wings battered the air frantically in an attempt to fly away.

  Ishtahar uttered a command. ‘Look, unholy sister, into the eye of my belly, the cauldron of my power! You cannot escape us, for you look upon yourself. My eye is a mirror for all female power. You cannot escape yourself.’

  The dragon screamed in terror as the two shining goddesses drew nearer to each other.

  The voice of Seference boomed out. ‘Now we shall send you back to the depths, where you will not rule, nor scheme nor rage, but sleep in humility. Your time will come again, dark queen, but come, let us embrace as sisters at last.’

  Ishtahar stepped forward into the luminous wall of water, and as all three goddesses merged into one, a dazzling flare of turquoise light blazed out. Sofia’s last struggles were engulfed. For a second, the water spurted upwards, and then collapsed with a crash back into the ocean. Slowly seething, the sea gradually sank back to calm. Ishtahar was gone, and the golden serpent, Shemyaza, had gone with her, clasped to her sacred wrist.

  Lily lowered her arms and put the shell back into her pocket. She glanced round at Daniel, and beyond him to the unreadable faces of the Grigori who still stood in a line behind them. Emma stood rigid, as if in shock, her hands against her mouth, the Pelleth behind her, their faces pale. How much had they all seen? Daniel groaned and huddled against the ground, hugging himself. He felt sick, elated, immeasurably sad.

  Now it was over. The power of hate had been vanquished, but love had vanished with it.

  Then, below the cliff, the rocks shifted loosely. Lily gasped and took a step backwards, afra
id that more of the land was going to subside. Others were inspired to follow her move.

  Emma leaned down and put her hand on Daniel’s arm. ‘Come, Danny,’ she murmured. ‘There’s no point staying here.’

  ‘No!’ he hissed at her. ‘You go if you want to. I have to stay.’

  More rocks clattered against one another below them. Daniel froze. Emma tried to pull him away, but he shook her off roughly. He staggered to his feet and took a step towards the jagged edge of the cliff, where the piled, shattered rocks sloped down towards the shore.

  ‘Daniel, no!’ Emma cried.

  He did not hear her. He heard instead more rocks moving, then more and more. His heart began to beat wildly. For a moment, all was held in stasis, and then a pale, feebly-moving thing groped its way over the cliff top. Daniel plunged forward and grabbed hold of it. Long, agile fingers curled around his own. Deaf to the cries of concern behind him, he pulled with all his strength. He hauled a dusty, bloody body from the rubble, and then Shemyaza was in his arms, alive.

  Daniel could do nothing but shower Shemyaza’s face and hair with kisses, repeating a mantra of relief. ‘Forgive me, I lost faith. Forgive me.’

  Shem a weak hand and touched his face. ‘No, my Daniel, it was I who lost the faith. Forgive me.’

  Daniel uttered an anguished sound and pulled Shemyaza closer against him, prompting a groan of pain. Shemyaza felt so vulnerable in his arms, so human. ‘Where is Ishtahar?’ Daniel asked. ‘I know you were with her.’

  Shemyaza shook his head. ‘Gone. For now.’ He pulled away from Daniel a little. ‘Help me up. I will tell you everything later.’

  Enniel had kept everyone else at a distance while Daniel spoke with Shemyaza. Now, as Shemyaza rose uncertainly to his feet, Enniel stepped forward. He wanted to utter some ritual greeting, welcome the Sacred King as saviour and deliverer. All he could do was take Shemyaza in his arms, murmur, ‘Thank Shem, Thank Shem.’ There were no other words he could think of.

  Shemyaza returned the embrace, then drew away from Enniel. He called Daniel, Lily and Emma to him and pulled them against his body. Then, he released them and turned to Aninka, who stood at Enniel’s side.

  ‘I wronged you,’ he said.

  She nodded. ‘Yes, and I allowed it. Don’t ask for my forgiveness, Pev, because I can’t give it.’

  He smiled sadly. ‘It would help if you could believe I am no longer Peverel Othman.’

  ‘It’s too late. I could never forget that.’

  Shemyaza looked into her eyes, and Aninka saw that he understood she could never forgive him, simply because he was unable to love her in the way she desired. Even now, she wished this knowledge could change his feelings, but she knew it was impossible. He would waste no more words on pleading.

  Salamiel had climbed the rubble from the beach, and now came to stand beside the angel king. Shemyaza turned from Aninka and held out his arms to Salamiel. ‘You are the first,’ Shemyaza said. ‘There must be others.’

  Salamiel curled into his embrace. ‘Together we shall find them.’

  Enniel raised his arms. ‘This is a day of great joy! We shall celebrate at High Crag!’ He turned to Daniel. ‘Bring your friends from the village, boy. This feast is to be shared by human and Grigori alike.’

  ‘There is something first that needs to be done,’ Shemyaza said. He addressed Lily. ‘Where is your brother, my daughter?’

  ‘At the house,’ Lily said. ‘Shem, can you...’ She dared not ask the question.

  He reached out and touched her hair. ‘Long overdue,’ he replied. ‘Bring him down to Mermaid’s Cove.’

  The procession wound its way along the cliff-top to the grounds of High Crag, which were draped in swathes of deep-sea weeds, so that it looked like some drowned garden that had risen from the ocean. Daniel and Emma walked at Shemyaza’s side, holding onto his arms. Both sensed Shem’s overwhelming exhaustion, which he was trying hard to keep at bay. His body was battered and cut, his mind wearied.

  Later he would tell them of how he’d awoken on the beach, at the mouth of the rubble-filled cave that had been hidden behind the lion’s head. At the time he’d believed his encounter with Ainzu and the Shamir, his battle with Sofia, had been physical, but now he wondered whether only his spirit had travelled through the labyrinth of underground tunnels and risen into the sky to fight a dragon. His soul had fused with the serpent power, helped initiate the energising of the ancient sites, but perhaps his body had lain unconscious on the rocky floor beyond Azumi’s portal. He would never know for sure.

  Everyone gathered on the beach at Mermaid’s Cove, where the sea licked innocuously at the land with tiny wavelets. Lily and Aninka went to fetch Owen from the house.

  Shemyaza stood upon the beach, gazing down at the spot where he sensed Tamara had buried the cowry shell that had chained a fragment of Ishtahar’s soul. He instructed the women to strip Owen of his clothes and carry him to the water’s edge. Lily still carried the shell, and Shemyaza instructed her to fill it with sea water from the tide’s lip.

  Owen lay in the shallow water, his empty eyes fixed on the sky. Aninka and Emma supported his body in their arms. Lily filled the cowry as instructed, then held it up to Shem, who took it from her and held it close to his side, near his belly, where a wound dripped blood into the delicate shell.

  ‘Shem!’ Lily cried. ‘You’re hurt! We didn’t notice!’

  ‘It is an old wound that would not heal,’ Shem said.

  Lily knew then that the water within the shell was no longer simply brine.

  Shem knelt before Owen, the rags of his tattered robes swirling around him in the water. He placed the lip of the shell against Owen’s mouth. ‘Reawaken, my child, through this vessel, the womb of our mother, Ishtahar. Reawaken in light, for your blood and mine are one.’

  Owen’s throat worked convulsively as the liquid poured down it. He coughed and flailed his arms. Then he lay blinking and panting in the water, his expression that of astonishment. Lily splashed through the water to reach him. ‘O! It’s me! O! Are you with us? Are you?’

  Painfully, Owen sat up, using Aninka and Emma as support. ‘Lily,’ he said weakly. She wrapped him in her arms.

  Daniel, watching this reunion, wanted to turn away. He was dreading Owen’s eyes finding his own. Part of him, he realised, did not want Owen to reawaken. Shem came to his side.

  ‘Before you say anything, I’d rather not hear it,’ Daniel said, sensing a sanctimonious reprimand was imminent. He knew Shem could see right into his heart and folded his arms defensively.

  ‘I wasn’t going to say anything,’ Shem replied. ‘I haven’t turned into a pious bore, Daniel.’

  ‘Good.’

  ‘Take me to High Crag,’ Shem said. ‘I need your attentions and a long sleep.’

  Daniel smiled and put his arm round Shem’s waist. They began to walk towards the wooden stairway that led to the garden.

  Enniel caught up with them. ‘Of course you must be exhausted,’ he said, ‘but perhaps you could rest and show your face later. I think it would be appreciated. Many people have been with you in spirit, Shemyaza, and I want them all to partake of the celebratory feast.’

  Shem shrugged. ‘Whatever.’

  Enniel opened his mouth to speak, then hesitated. Finally, he said, ‘So, what do you intend to do now?’

  Shemyaza glanced behind him to where Salamiel was following at a polite distance. Later, they would talk. Then he looked down at the empty cowry shell, which he still held in his hand. ‘I’m going home,’ he said.

 


 

  Storm Constantine, Scenting Hallowed Blood

 


 

 
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