The magnificent mists of colour form a hallway with no walls and no ceiling, only a glimmering celestial path with six giant sets of obelisks running down either side. I proceed along the heavenly passage, unable to see to the end as it is shrouded by the light-filled mists. The mists part to reveal a hooded figure holding a book, who awaits me beneath a celestial archway that leads to a room without walls and yet the interior is concealed from my sight. I approach the figure without fear, for although I have no conscious memory of this place, my intuition tells me that I have been here many times before and that the soul-mind who awaits me is an old, old friend.
‘Welcome, Meridon.’ He calls me by my soul name and the sonic excites my being with its harmonious resonance. He retracts the hood from his head to expose his familiar face to me.
‘Akbar,’ I gasp.
‘In my capacity as record keeper of the Lesser Akasha, I am known as Zalman,’ he corrects politely.
‘Zalman?’ I recognise the name from Ashlee’s Persian adventure but am confused. ‘Does that mean you are a past or future incarnate of Akbar?’
‘Neither and both,’ he concedes, amused that his answer confuses me further. ‘I am the sum total of his soul-mind’s consciousness before he ever ventured into the Earth scheme. I am his dweller on the threshold between this universe and the next.’
‘And Meridon is my dweller?’
‘Only until you walk the Halls of Amenti,’ he informs me, ‘then Meridon will be consciously joined unto you for the time of reckoning. For the Staff of Amenti are capable of remembering all talents and knowledge acquired during earthly incarnations, and the skills that saw you appointed to the Amenti Project are realised and reactivated.’ Seeing my bewilderment, he expands his explanation. ‘For example, my partner and I were brought onto the Amenti Council to adapt the Akashic recordkeeping system to this lower harmonic universe. I see to the Lesser Akashic, filtering out all that is detrimental to human development, and my partner presides over the Greater Akashic Record, which she assimilates and files away to be of inspiration to the worthy.’
The mention of the Hall of Records reminded me of my concern for Jamila. ‘You must know why I am here?’ I ask.
Zalman nods, his expression grave now. ‘I am sorry to say that your contact has become a victim of the war that lies at the root of all wars fought on this Earth.’
Panic grips my heart. ‘Jamila has been killed? Why? By whom?’
‘You already know the answers to both those questions,’ he says. ‘You are a prophetess of old, Meridon; in Ancient Egypt you were the best trance medium and dream decoder in existence.’
Last night’s nightmare takes me captive once more, only this time I am an observer, not personally involved, and it is not my baby being torn apart by the Dracon, it is Jamila.
‘No!’ I protest; the horror too great for me to accept as reality.
‘I am truly sorry,’ Zalman says, but remains insistent that I acknowledge my own precognition. ‘Many people die such horrible deaths every day. Impoverished countries, plagued by war, disease and famine, are the perfect feeding grounds for the Dracon and the Nefilim. Millions can go missing there and nobody cares.’
‘Are you implying that Jamila was a random victim?’
‘Oh no, Jamila was the product of a holy order of women who evolved from the teaching Miss Koriche left with her order. The purpose of this order was to assist our father to awaken the Staff of Amenti. Jamila was targeted for the specific purpose of delaying your mission in Giza.’
‘Then why not target me directly, if I’m the one they want?’
‘Even though you have not yet been activated, you are a Dragon Queen and therefore you have powerful protectors—some you are aware of and some you are not. The important thing is that your mission in Giza is not delayed.’
‘But I know very little of what is required of me. Jamila did not finish—’
‘Akbar is on his way to you,’ Zalman assures me.
‘Does he know about Jamila?’
Zalman nods regretfully. ‘Akbar found what was left of her.’
Even though I did not know Jamila very well, her horrendous murder pains me to the core.
‘It is very important that you follow Akbar’s instructions without delay,’ Zalman warns. ‘Your enemies are coming for you.’
In the distance I hear my name being called. I reach out a hand to Zalman in a vain attempt to prevent my departure.
‘A gift for you.’ Zalman puts the book he has been holding all this time into my hands, and I clutch it tight against my body as Zalman and his library rush away from me.
REVELATION 27
TIME PIRATES
‘Mia…Mia!’ Albray was shaking me, even though he knew that to pull a person out of an astral experience prematurely added to the already physically draining effects of the exercise. There had to be trouble afoot. Had our enemies sought me out as Zalman had predicted? My consciousness was propelled back into my form at great speed, making me feel dizzy and disorientated.
‘The book?’ I mumbled. I felt for the gift Zalman had given me, and in that instant the object seemed to meld into my person and vanish.
Albray grabbed me up in his arms. ‘Apologies for bringing you out of a trance so quickly, but we have to go.’ He carried me into the lounge area, where Akbar was tossing a few of our essential possessions into a bag.
‘Where are we going?’ I asked, feeling as though I had taken a sleeping potion.
‘Amenti,’ Akbar replied. ‘It is time—’ He stopped himself from saying more, closed the bag and rose. ‘Time to leave.’
I passed in and out of consciousness as Albray carried me down the fire escape, through the kitchen and out through the hotel’s staff entrance, where I was piled into the back seat of a vehicle. As the motor roared to life and the car moved off, I slipped into a fitful sleep.
‘I have a wife and child to consider now.’
It was Albray who spoke and he was quite close by. I roused myself to peer out through the car window. We were in the middle of a vast, flat plain and it was nearly sunset; my guess was we’d come to the place where Rocky McCollum’s Fibonacci spiral ended. My husband and my friend were standing near the car, arguing.
Akbar fixed Albray with a glare of caution. ‘If you do not unlock the hall this day, you will not have a family to consider much longer.’
‘Are you threatening me?’ Albray grabbed hold of Akbar by his robes.
Akbar did not retaliate. ‘I am not the threat, I assure you.’
I grappled for the door handle and stumbled out of the car before my husband could draw the sword that was now strapped to his hip. ‘We must listen to him, Albray.’
‘Why must we?’
‘Because I located the Akashic library during my astral projection and was advised there to heed Akbar’s advice.’
Albray was not convinced.
‘I can tell you what became of Jamila,’ I offered as further proof.
Albray released Akbar and folded his arms, eager to hear my version of the events that had already been relayed to him by Akbar. My knight was very surprised when both accounts came to the same horrendous conclusion.
‘Akbar is more than he appears to be and knows far more than he can reveal to us in our present state of conscious awareness,’ I assured Albray. ‘But he is a staff member of Amenti, just as you suspected, and it is imperative that we trust him.’
Albray was amazed by my conviction. ‘This is quite a change of tune for you—trusting in your own psychic perceptions.’
‘Actually I used to do it all the time in Ancient Egypt,’ I replied, and glanced at Akbar, who knew all Zalman did about my fortune-telling days.
Akbar grinned to confirm my statement and my husband was discomfited to note the communication between us. ‘Is there something going on between you two that I should know about?’ he demanded.
Akbar looked floored by my husband’s jealous assumption. ‘No, nothing l
ike that.’
‘The librarian of the Lesser Akasha is Zalman,’ I blurted out to defuse the situation. Albray’s attention shifted back to Akbar, but now he was viewing him in an entirely different light. ‘If anyone can predict what will come to pass, it is this man,’ I finished.
‘You have walked the Halls of Amenti?’ Albray asked, stunned.
‘Not six months ago,’ Akbar confirmed, pleased that the misunderstanding had been corrected. ‘That was when I first met Jamila and she enlightened me to my true identity.’
‘But doesn’t your body have to reside beneath the blue flame for at least one hundred years after the journey through Amenti before it is resilient enough to accommodate the connection to your higher self?’ Albray asked.
Akbar nodded. ‘That is true, but one among Amenti’s staff is a time traveller—’
‘Sinclair,’ Albray and I interjected at the same time.
‘—and it was he who aided me to cheat time to be here with you today,’ Akbar concluded.
‘So yours was only a recent enlightenment?’ I asked.
Akbar grinned. ‘It would seem so,’ he said, ‘and yet during the time I spent under the blue flame, my consciousness at one with my silent watcher in that cosmic moment that spanned one hundred years, I recalled what it had taken me thousands of lifetimes to learn.’
I realised this was why Akbar appeared so different to me now. In the Sinai he had been just like me, a human stumbling through a web of ignorance in search of some meaning to existence. Now he was at peace, for he knew his reason for being. And soon I too would know the truth behind the extraordinary life I had been given.
Hesitant though I was to risk the life of my unborn child, it seemed that not attempting this quest would be as dangerous as attempting it. After my husband and I had shared a quiet word, we agreed to tackle the task fate had landed in our lap.
When we turned to inform Akbar of our decision, the sun was very low in the sky. It was then we noticed an approaching dust storm, kicked up by the many horses’ hooves of the oncoming party.
‘Melchi,’ Akbar advised, so that we would not be alarmed. ‘They will form a guard.’
Albray was reluctant to have an audience. ‘The fewer people who know of this, the better,’ he said.
‘Jamila’s death means that somebody already knows of our intent here in Giza,’ Akbar countered, ‘and that same someone is sure to try to thwart our intent again.’
At that moment I sensed the presence of something malign, close by and yet unseen. I indicated as much to Albray, who drew his sword, uttering the name ‘Pintar’ under his breath. He recognised the presence of the low-grade entity, as he’d encountered it once before.
I remembered the name from Ashlee’s account: this was the leader of the Dracon. The thought of his presence close by sent shockwaves through my being. I turned circles, focusing my third-eye vision to see beyond my physical reality, but my ability in this field was undeveloped and I was only able to catch a glimpse of a dark shadow with no definition.
‘Do not be alarmed.’ Akbar moved closer to us and drew his long curved sword, taking a defensive stance. ‘The dark lord does not wish you harm at this time.’
‘Drawing your sword does not invoke my confidence,’ Albray muttered. ‘Why wouldn’t we expect anything but trouble from Pintar?’
Akbar glared at Albray, clearly feeling he should know the answer and that it was improper to be discussing it in front of me. ‘Have you forgotten?’ he said sharply, then lowered his voice and whispered the reason to Albray.
Though I could not see my husband’s expression, I could tell from his body language that whatever Akbar had said weighed heavily on him.
‘Tell me!’ I demanded, and rested both hands over my womb, as if to protect the tiny being within. It was then I remembered Pintar’s obsession with the soul-mind that was Ashlee’s daughter, the same soul-mind that was now reincarnating in my belly. ‘That abomination wants its mistress back,’ I realised, horrified.
Albray embraced me, wanting to allay my sudden rush of fear and anger. ‘We won’t let that happen,’ he said with certainty.
‘Damn straight it won’t happen!’ I said and tore myself away from Albray to yell at our invisible stalker: ‘You stay away from her!’
Akbar grabbed my arm to caution me against provoking one of the darkest entities ever to crawl out of the primordial ether. ‘I want a weapon to defend myself!’ I demanded, agitated by his restraint.
‘Amenti,’ he whispered and gave me a nod of assurance. ‘You have thirteen years to prepare your defence, for only when your daughter reaches adolescence will she be of any interest to Pintar.’
‘So why show up now?’ Albray queried.
‘To make sure no one else harms the object of his interest, I suspect.’ Akbar looked around; it seemed to me he was straining to hear something we could not, but I was too worried about my daughter to take note.
‘Who else might be—’
‘Shh!’ Akbar implored and I fell silent.
The sun’s rays vanished completely and all of us could now hear the ominous sound of wings beating in unison. They seemed to be approaching at a faster rate than the horsemen.
‘What is that?’ My heart jumped into my throat and choked me with foreboding. I had read about the Dracon, I had seen them in my nightmares, but no amount of imagining could compare to the heart-pounding, cold sweat-invoking shockwaves of fear that I felt at the prospect of actually seeing one. ‘It sounds huge.’
‘They are huge,’ Albray corrected, gazing towards the approaching threat.
I caught sight of the skyward intruders myself—three of them.
‘I thought you said Pintar was here to protect us,’ Albray complained to Akbar.
‘Not all the Dracon are loyal to Pintar,’ Akbar pointed out. ‘Since the destruction of their leader’s physical form, some serve Nefilim masters.’
The winged half-human, half-lizard creatures circled above like dragons from a medieval movie; the sight was surreal. The horsemen were approaching at full gallop but were still minutes away from our defence. I looked to Akbar, who smiled.
‘I told you your enemies were coming,’ he said.
‘No,’ I corrected, ‘Zalman warned—’
I stopped as I fully recalled Zalman’s words and his parting gift. In my mind’s eye I opened the book he had given me and, in a blinding flash, a vision shot out from between the covers: I saw myself at this precise moment in time, and suddenly I knew what I must do.
‘Come!’ I grabbed Albray’s hand and urged him to run with me away from the cover of our vehicle.
‘That is suicide,’ he said and pulled me back.
‘We need to be out in the open.’ I tugged him once in my direction and then let go and ran.
‘Listen to her, my friend,’ Akbar advised, ‘she is your intuition.’
Albray, having spotted one of our airborne enemies about to target me, was up and after me in a heartbeat. Akbar did not follow us, for he knew as well as I what would unfold this night.
‘Could you not wait for our defence to arrive?’ my husband pleaded.
‘Our best defence is not to be here,’ I said, and stopped on the very spot seen in my vision.
‘But only our subtle bodies will venture forth into the hall,’ he began.
‘Not the way I see it.’ I turned to argue and was forced to dive to the ground to avoid being snatched up by the flying Dracon.
‘Are you all right?’ Albray squatted alongside me, and I hauled myself up to my knees and hugged him as I looked to the dark, cloudless sky for aid.
For a second I doubted what my vision had predicted, but then the Dracon, who were readying themselves to strike, seemed to run into a large unseen object and fell from the sky unconscious.
‘Captain Sinclair,’ I said, relieved to have my premonition vindicated.
A round, downward-facing porthole of white liquid-light opened above us and a light-stream
spiralled down to engulf my husband and myself. Fast as lightning, it withdrew into the belly of the Kleio, taking us with it.
Inside the Kleio, Albray and I were deposited atop a pool of liquid-light, which hardened into crystal beneath us and continued to emit a dim glow.
Albray brushed himself over with his free hand, checking all his body parts had been safely transported. ‘You could have warned me!’
‘We only had a small window of opportunity before the situation would have become very messy and hindered our pick-up,’ I said. I looked around the chamber, admiring the polished timber and modern brass fixtures and trim. ‘This room has a very stylish, nautical feel, doesn’t it?’
‘Very tasteful, I’m sure,’ Albray said coolly.
‘That’s right,’ I said, realising the reason for this. ‘You and the soul-mind that is the dear captain have a history of not getting along, thanks to your rivalry for the attentions of Ashlee Granville.’
Albray looked insulted, but after a little consideration found himself guilty as charged. He sheathed his sword and moved towards me. ‘Well, that is hardly going to be an issue now…I am a happily married man.’
I was charmed by his reassurance. ‘And father,’ I reminded him as his lips neared mine.
The door to the chamber retracted into the wall, admitting the captain himself. ‘Greetings!’ he called out.
‘You have wonderful timing,’ Albray complained.
‘Payback,’ the captain replied cheerfully. ‘Karma is a wonderful thing.’
In his well-worn brown leather attire, Captain Sinclair was rather more modern-looking than I’d expected—but then he was a time lord. He was just as Ashlee had described in her journals: long blond locks and bright blue eyes that sparkled with mischief. It was easy to see why Ashlee loved him; he was a very attractive man indeed.