‘So why is Enniel calling this person in now?’ Aninka thought she knew. Another wronged lover seeking revenge. It was likely this Levantine had got wind of what had happened and had approached Enniel himself.
‘Well, it’s all very interesting!’ Leonie declared gleefully. ‘While Levantine was being kept in an institution, he believed he still had psychic contact with Othman. Apparently, the Parzupheim wanted to use Levantine to keep tabs on the Anakim, and I believe he must have done, at first. Then, he decided he was ‘healed’, whatever that means, and the contact was lost. It’s clear from the file that the Parzupheim were sceptical about this claim, but they respected Levantine’s desire to put the whole distressing episode behind him. Now, it appears Levantine has been more or less forced to become involved again. I gather he’s not pleased about it.’
Aninka shook her head. ‘None of this makes much sense to me. The Parzupheim are aware of what Othman gets up to, but they simply move him on when he gets too audacious, otherwise letting him have free rein. He’s a special case, obviously!’
‘I agree, it’s strange. Perhaps Taz Levantine will be able to enlighten you.’
Aninka raised a sardonic eyebrow. She wondered how Levantine would view her, given her recent closeness to Othman. ‘We’ll have to see. Who is Lahash?’
‘A carnifex, they say.’
‘An executioner.’ Aninka nodded slowly. ‘So. They will kill him, this time.’
‘Oh, I don’t know about that. Perhaps just clip his wings?’
‘What did you overhear just now then?’
‘Only Enniel telling someone that Levantine had been persuaded to get involved. He’s pretty sure they can track Othman down now. You were mentioned.’
‘Oh?’
‘It seems they want to use you and Levantine to draw Othman out. We can only presume Lahash will do the rest. Perhaps he’s there to keep an eye on you both.’
‘If Enniel has fears I’ll fall into Peverel Othman’s arms once I see him again, he’s mistaken,’ Aninka said. Her heart had begun to beat a little faster. She realised she wanted to see Othman again desperately, and hoped it was only to tell him what she thought of him. Anything else was, of course, unthinkable.
‘This is something big,’ Leonie said. ‘They’re playing it down. I thought you should know.’
‘Thank you,’ Aninka said stiffly. She left the room.
Upstairs, in the bedroom that had been allotted to her, she packed the few belongings she had brought with her. Mundane objects like hairbrushes and lipsticks seemed absurd, removed from her existence. She made up her face, poured herself a glass of whisky from the bottle she had hidden in her suitcase. Then she sat on the bed to drink it. She felt nervous, filled with anticipation and dread. The rain beat down, bringing with it an early darkness. The room felt warm but damp. This house is like a honeycomb, Aninka thought. Each room a separate cell containing an entity, a thought, a possibility. She did not know how many of the family, servants, friends and dependants were in residence at the time. Everyone kept to their own timetable, interacting only as it suited them. No-one had shown any interest in Aninka. She had dined alone with Enniel nearly every evening since the first day.
After drinking two glasses of whisky, Aninka fell into a shallow sleep, drifting on the edge of dreams, believing herself to be fully awake. A knock on her door brought her back to complete awareness. She called out unclearly, ‘Yes?’
A woman came into the room, who looked like a secretary and probably was. Aninka had never seen her before. ‘Enniel has sent me to bring you down.’
Aninka stood up unsteadily, quickly arranged her hair in the mirror of the dressing-table, slipped her feet into her shoes. ‘OK, I’m ready.’
The woman smiled sweetly, as a dental receptionist might do to a child about to undergo painful experiences in the room with the chair.
Three Grigori were present in Enniel’s study. Enniel sat behind his desk, looking relaxed. A black-haired man in a neat, dark suit stood in front of him, while a dishevelled individual with long unkempt hair was slumped on the sofa. Aninka made her own assumptions: the dapper one was the carnifex, the scruffy one Levantine. The carnifex was tall, even for a Grigori.
‘Ah, my dear, come in.’ Enniel summoned her from the desk. ‘Your transport has arrived.’
Aninka stalked forward, shoulders back. ‘I wasn’t told I’d be travelling in company.’
‘Do sit down,’ Enniel said. ‘Let me introduce you.’
Aninka sat on a high-backed chair against the wall, so that everyone would have to turn round to look at her. She noticed Taziel Levantine appraising her with cold, speculative eyes. The carnifex, Lahash, appeared faintly amused, as if she and Levantine were children he had to govern for a while.
Enniel indicated the dark-suited man. ‘This is Lahash, your driver. He is a very capable person and has received instructions as to how to proceed once Othman is located. Please do not interfere at that time.’
Aninka objected to Enniel’s tone. ‘I only want to see the bastard brought in,’ she said. She was craving a cigarette badly, but she could not bring herself to traverse the space between her chair and Enniel’s desk, where a tempting wooden box full of king sizes lay. Her hands were clenched rigidly in her lap. The cigarettes burned white like candle flames.
As if sensing her need, Enniel gestured to Lahash, who came swiftly, but languidly, towards the desk. Enniel made a further signal, and Lahash picked up the cigarette box, sauntered over to Aninka and offered it to her. She managed to unclasp her frozen fingers and help herself to a cigarette. Lahash lit it for her with a petrol lighter he took from his jacket. He could not be much more than a servant, then, to obey Enniel’s request in that manner. ‘Thank you,’ she said, and crossed her legs. The cigarette gave her confidence, its smoke was a protective screen between herself and the others in the room.
‘This,’ Enniel gestured towards the sofa, ‘is Taziel Levantine. Like you, he has had past connections with Peverel Othman. Unlike you, he still maintains a certain link. However, we are confident that between you, it will be possible to locate our Anakim friend. I hope you have no objection, my dear, to working with Taziel in this way?’
Aninka shrugged, took a lungful of smoke. ‘Whatever’s needed...’
She noticed Levantine roll his eyes. In fact, she felt she would not be able to work with him at all.
Levantine stood up. ‘I just want to get this over with. When do we start?’
Enniel rose, more slowly and with greater grace. ‘Well, first we need to establish contact, however tenuous. Perhaps we should move to the family meditation room. The atmosphere there is more conducive to what we need to do.’
Aninka had not been in this room for many years. They called it a meditation room, but really it was a temple. Even before Enniel opened its doors, she could smell the pervasive incense smoke that was soaked into its walls and curtains. The room was large, to accommodate up to fifty people who might need the space to move around. Some rituals incorporated dancing and drama. The walls were painted with depictions of the Garden in Eden, rituals being conducted there by individuals wearing feathered cloaks.
Someone had prepared the room. It was already lit with tall candles, and a burner exuded a coiling steam of silvery smoke. Everyone removed their shoes at the threshold. The windows in this room were all of stained glass. Some bore representations of the peacock angel, others stylised depictions of the Shining Ones and the Fallen Ones, Azazel and Shemyaza. The largest window, which was circular, represented seven sages standing around a blue flame, their arms raised. The colours of this window were crimson, dark blue and purple, with hints of gold. Aninka had always loved it and, as a child, had spent more time staring at it than concentrating on family rituals.
The floor of the room was dark wood, buffed to a satiny sheen. A huge golden circle was inlaid into it, marked with sigils and names of power.
Taziel Levantine went directly to the circle and
sat down, cross-legged. He seemed intractable and sulky. Lahash, more urbane, waited for Enniel to precede him into the room.
Aninka was last to join the circle. She felt slightly uneasy.
Once everyone was seated, Enniel closed his eyes and threw back his head. ‘We call upon thee, Oh Shining Ones, in the names of Ninlil and Enlil, our forbears, and the High Lord Anu. Bestow upon our sister, Aninka, and our brother, Taziel, the fruit of knowledge. Give to them the inner sight, to look upon the one named Peverel Othman.’
He bowed his head. Aninka automatically attuned to the invocation, and assumed Levantine must have done the same. She heard him exhale slowly through his nose beside her. Opening her eyes, she saw his head was slumped onto his chest.
‘Hear us, Oh Lord of the Grigori,’ Enniel said. ‘We call upon thy spirit, Shemyaza, to aid us in our search for Peverel Othman. Reveal thyself to Aninka and Taziel, guide their sight. Give them a sign of the whereabouts of Peverel Othman.’
Aninka wondered why Enniel had called upon Shemyaza in this instance. There were other figures, surely, who were more suited to the purpose of hunting?
Enniel’s voice was low and soothing, as he led them into a visualisation. Aninka found it easy to see once more her old home in Cresterfield, but from above. Enniel told her she could see the direction Othman had taken in his flight. It would be revealed as a trail of dirty light. Aninka immediately saw about a dozen trails in her mind’s eye. Which one? She felt it was her imagination at work rather than any attempt at clear sight. Beside her, Taziel Levantine suddenly said, ‘Southeast.’
‘Is he in London?’ Enniel asked.
‘No, further north. Huge area. Can’t tell.’ Levantine gasped and suddenly jumped to his feet. ‘That’s all. The trail’s too cold.’
Aninka felt mildly irritated by his behaviour. She was sure he was merely seeking attention.
‘Well, that’s a start,’ Enniel said mildly. ‘I suggest you head for London, then try again.’
‘There’s no point!’ Levantine said. ‘Why should I contaminate myself by even thinking about that shit, just so you can watch from afar. You won’t stop him. You know you won’t. You’re just using us.’
Aninka was aghast at this outburst, and also slightly impressed, much to her chagrin. She herself would never have dared to speak to Enniel that way.
Enniel ignored the eruption. He rose to his feet, smiling. ‘Well, I think you have time for dinner before you begin travelling. I’ll have my secretary book you into a suitable hotel in the city. It won’t matter how late it is when you arrive there.’
Lahash rose silently to his feet. Levantine was standing moodily, arms folded, with his back to everyone else.
‘Did you pick anything up, Aninka?’ Enniel asked.
‘She shook her head. ‘No.’ She wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
At dinner, Levantine picked moodily at his food, crushingly silent, while Lahash and Enniel attempted to conduct a civilised conversation. Aninka felt dazed, hungry but sick, and barely able to concentrate on the small-talk. She was conscious of the occasional covert glances cast in her direction by Taziel, his hostility. It seemed hard to believe that this was the ex-lover who’d caused Pev pain, the legacy of which she’d felt she’d had to suffer. He was like a spoiled child, sulky and rude. Since talking to Leonie, she had imagined someone very different, confident and charismatic, a match for Othman’s own splendour. In reality, Taziel Levantine was a mess. Perhaps she was lucky not to be in the same condition.
After the main course, Levantine suddenly announced, ‘So are you going to tell us exactly what Othman is, Enniel?’
Enniel laid down his fork, paused to wipe his mouth with the corner of a napkin. He laughed politely. ‘I think you know that already, Taziel. He is a trouble-maker.’
Taziel rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah? Is that all? Then why haven’t you done anything about him before?’
‘The only thing you need to know is that we are doing something about it now.’ He smiled at Lahash and Aninka. ‘Would you like dessert, or shall we go straight to the brandy?’
Taziel pushed his plate away, spilling food onto the pristine tablecloth. ‘Oh, for fuck’s sake! I’m sick of this!’
Aninka froze. Taziel’s aggressive behaviour was the last thing she wanted to witness at the moment. ‘You are disgusting!’ she said. ‘At least behave like an adult, even if you do have the mentality of a child!’
Taziel’s dark eyes whipped towards her own, his face creased into a sneer. ‘Oh, excuse me! Keep your mouth shut, lady. If you had any sense, you’d realise we’re being duped.’
‘Duped?’ Enniel enquired delicately. ‘In what way?’
Taziel leaned forward over the table. ‘What was all that Shemyaza shit in the temple? Why call on him? What’s the connection?’
Aninka was surprised by Enniel’s subsequent silence. She realised he was lost for an answer.
Eventually, he cleared his throat and said, ‘It’s documented that the image of Shemyaza cropped up frequently in your delirium during your hospitalisation, Taz. Clearly, you have made your own connection, and it seems only logical to utilise it now.’
Even to Aninka, who knew little of Taziel’s history, that felt like too convenient an answer.
Taziel shook his head. ‘It’s not just that, I know it. The Shemyaza frequency is dangerous, unstable. No sensible Grigori — and, Enniel, I just know you are too sensible for words — would call upon it. Not unless it had specific bearing on the work in hand.’
Enniel raised his hands. ‘All right, all right. We’re driven to desperate means.’
Taziel shook his head again. ‘Too glib. You can’t use an archetype who’s bound up in stasis as a hunter, Enniel, even if the constellation he’s held in is Orion.’
Aninka realised that for all Taziel’s dissipated appearance, his mind was sharp. She waited to see how Enniel would respond.
Her guardian leaned back in his chair, apparently totally at ease. ‘All right, I’ll be straight with you. From information that my ward, Aninka, has given me, it transpires that Peverel Othman has been using ritualistic means to “open the gate”. It is well known that the stargate Orion would be, should it ever be unsealed, a great source of power. It is clear to me that Othman is calling upon the archetypal form of Shemyaza to aid him, perhaps even without realising it.’
Aninka frowned. ‘He never mentioned Shemyaza’s name though.’ She wondered why Enniel had not mentioned this aspect to her before.
Enniel shrugged. ‘Perhaps Othman is acting instinctively.’
Taziel’s eyes were like glittering flint. ‘It’s dangerous, Enniel. Shemyaza represents all that’s dark in our culture. You want us to expose ourselves to that frequency?’ He laughed coldly. ‘Get real!’
‘You will be protected,’ Enniel answered smoothly. ‘There is no risk.’ He indicated Lahash, who had remained silent throughout the exchanges. ‘You can put your lives into Lahash’s hands without fear. He knows what to expect.’
‘I wish I did!’ Aninka said. ‘This is a new aspect, Enniel. Why didn’t you tell me about it?’
‘Because it is only conjecture, my dear. I didn’t want to alarm you, nor put dangerous ideas into your head. I thought it best to keep Shemyaza in his place, as it were, in bondage.’
‘Which is why you called upon him in the temple, of course!’ Taziel sneered. He stood up. ‘You people are full of shit! I need some air!’ He barged out of the room, pushing chairs from his path, leaving the door open in his wake.
‘Phew!’ Aninka said.
Enniel was watching the door. ‘Be careful with that one, won’t you, Lahash,’ he said.
Lahash inclined his head. ‘My thoughts entirely,’ he answered.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Monday 26th October: Little Moor
Owen stayed out all night again. On Monday morning, Lily rose early, feeling surprisingly refreshed, and did not mind that the house was empty. Emma had left,
although she had obviously cleaned up the kitchen. Sunlight streamed into the room, promising another day of Indian summer. Lily opened the back door, then fed the cats. She prepared herself a bowl of cereal and went out into the garden to eat it. There was no hint of strangeness in the air, no alien scents, no hurrying breeze. All was tranquil, if still unnaturally hot. Lily felt comfortable in her body; all residue of soreness had gone. The happenings on the High Place might never have been, but for her memory. If she had dreamed of Peverel Othman while she’d slept, she could not remember it. Neither had she dreamed of the garden again. Today, if Owen deigned to return to her, she would tell him some of what she knew. The sky above her was the blue of honesty.
In her mind she laid out the facts, as if they were coloured cards: her father, the Grigori, Emma/Emilia, Peverel Othman. Should she discard any of these as being harbingers of lies? Emma, for all her eccentricities, was convincing, and she was the first card. If she really was an ancient crone made youthful once more, then surely the rest must be truth as well. All that had happened at the High Place, and Lily’s oddly vivid dreams, seemed only to confirm Emma’s fantastic claims. Lily felt that in order to move forward from this glittering point in time, she only had to decide whether something exciting and wonderful was happening, or something terrifying and potentially destructive. Yet, how could she make this decision without living what must come with all its dreadful, fearful and exciting possibilities?