The Light-Field

‘Why not?’ Taren frowned, assuming her mother was being old-fashioned and unreasonable.

  ‘Because I cannot open the way to that realm without the crown of Phemoria on my head,’ she admitted. ‘They are trapped unless I return that curse to my life.’

  When Taren discovered the problem, her heart went out in sympathy to her mother and she took a seat. ‘Can we not just go to the vault and wake them up?’

  Her mother shook her head slowly. ‘They would not wake, they would be cut off from their light-bodies.’ The queen used one of her daughter’s terms. ‘They would simply die.’

  ‘Well, we cannot just leave them all in limbo forevermore.’ Taren was annoyed with her mother for not saying anything about the spiritual hostages before now.

  ‘There is nothing we can do,’ the queen appealed. ‘As much as I love my people, I cannot, will not, wear that crown again.’

  There was a knock at the door and Salantea, the queen’s steward, entered. ‘Majesty, your female guests are in the throne room and are requesting your presence immediately. They said it is quite urgent.’

  The queen looked to Taren, who was as curious as she was, and they both rose to go investigate.

  Mythric and Zeven caught up to Lucian, who was rather glad to have their company. In the Phemorian palace there were Valoureans everywhere and although their queen did not mistrust every man she met anymore, the rest of her people were still a little hostile.

  Not that Zeven seemed to notice. He was turning circles, checking all the Valoureans out and singing to himself. ‘I’m a happily married man.’ Until at last, he burst with happiness. ‘Is this a dream come true or what?’

  Ahead lay a door to outside and Lucian could barely wait to reach it.

  ‘Hey, hold up,’ Anselm called ahead to them, and they stopped to wait for him.

  ‘I thought you were talking politics?’ Lucian wondered what Taren was doing now.

  ‘The conversation turned to Phemoria and the ladies kicked me out,’ he explained. ‘I think there is more going on beneath the surface of this planet than anyone realises.’

  ‘Marvellous.’ Lucian threw his hands up. ‘A few more skeletons in the family closet to sort out.’ He turned and headed outside into the fresh air.

  The still earth beneath his feet felt strange after he had been in space for years. The lawn in the garden was so lovely that Lucian felt compelled to lay down, his companions followed suit.

  ‘Lay down before we fall down, excellent idea.’ Anselm was the last to stretch out. Although being earth bound did not bother him so much, he seemed to appreciate the opportunity to relax in the shade of a tree in the late afternoon as much as his kinsmen. ‘I feel I owe you an apology, Lucian.’

  ‘Why is that, sir?’

  ‘Taren and I, we talk politics because that’s the level we relate best on,’ explained Anselm, sounding a little sorry about that. ‘This is the first real family gathering we’ve ever had, so don’t be too hard on her for not knowing the protocol.’

  ‘Actually, the protocol of a family gathering is usually that there is no protocol. I just see happy families everywhere and I … feel so ready,’ Lucian admitted.

  ‘I think she’ll come around,’ Mythric put in.

  ‘No, she won’t.’ Lucian was sure about that.

  ‘In five years,’ Zeven cut in, ‘when we see our celestial friend safely on his way, then —’

  ‘— then Taren has still got to figure out how to warn those on Kila.’ Lucian knew the responsibilities and missions would be never ending. ‘And you can guarantee she’ll want to see to it personally.’

  ‘What?’ Both Mythric and Anselm were concerned enough to sit upright, as did Zeven.

  ‘Shit, I hadn’t considered that.’ Zeven was anxious for completely different reasons. ‘I can see now why she doesn’t want children.’

  The comment really got on Lucian’s nerves. ‘Well, I am getting sick of having to fix every little thing wrong in the universe before we get to have a life!’

  ‘I guess you probably shouldn’t have married the daughter of two planetary leaders then?’ Anselm suggested, as he was the only one who could do so and receive a smile in return.

  ‘I sound selfish?’ Lucian wondered, as the band on his arm was making it ache. Taren had warned him that marriage to her was going to be less than idyllic, as was the calling of being psychic.

  ‘No, you sound human,’ Anselm said. ‘But you are no longer just human. You crave a normal life, one that is within your control, but you know if you had that … all you’d want is adventure and chaos!’

  ‘How true that is,’ Zeven agreed; they had always seen eye to eye.

  ‘You just need to enjoy what you have while you have it and leave the rest for another day,’ Anselm advised. ‘Order will always follow chaos, and the other way around.’

  ‘Not with your daughter,’ Lucian chided. ‘Life with her goes from chaos, to chaos, and then more chaos!’

  ‘But the sex is great,’ Zeven threw in in Taren’s defence, and neither Lucian nor Anselm appreciated the comment.

  ‘What was that you were saying about Kila?’ Anselm’s steely glare returned to his son-in-law.

  ‘Did I?’ Lucian felt he really shouldn’t have mentioned that. ‘Too much to drink at lunch.’ He shrugged.

  ‘Mr President! Sirs!’ The queen’s steward beckoned them back toward the house. ‘Your presence has been requested in the throne room.’

  All the men looked at each other, unsure if they liked the sound of that.

  ‘On our way,’ Anselm said to the steward, and looked to Lucian, who was quietly breathing a sigh of relief. ‘Saved by the steward.’

  ‘Damn, that means we have to get up.’ Zeven peeled himself off the ground and noted Valoureans laughing at their lack of vigour. ‘We’ve been in space, all right!’ he called out and the women actually found him amusing.

  ‘Maybe there’s hope for the women of this planet after all.’ Mythric noted the unusual occurrence.

  ‘Figures, they all get amorous after I’m married,’ Zeven grumbled, and all his companions groaned as one, as they moved off toward the house ahead of him.

  The tour of the palace had been going splendidly. Satomi had just got through explaining that much of the palace had been remodelled since the sexual revolution, but that the throne room still remained from ancient Phemorian times.

  When they entered the chamber in question, Thurayya at first seemed overawed by the grand circular room, but as she walked toward the thrones she became increasingly upset.

  ‘Horrible things,’ she said. ‘I mourned in this room.’

  ‘Ray, honey.’ Aurora saw her daughter’s tears. ‘Let me take you somewhere else?’

  ‘No!’ She pulled away and ran to sit on the queen’s throne. ‘It’s all my fault!’ she stated adamantly. ‘We have to free them!’

  ‘Who, sweetie?’ Aurora was trying to be patient and not become upset.

  Thurayya looked past her to Satomi. ‘Grandma knows.’

  Satomi’s gasp startled Aurora to turn about, and when she saw how shocked she appeared, Aurora was really worried.

  ‘Send for the Qusay,’ Satomi advised, too stunned to do so herself, and Aurora called for the steward who had been following them about.

  Taren and the queen entered the throne room to find the little girl seated on the queen’s throne. As soon as she saw them, Thurayya rushed to the queen and threw her arms around her skirt to beg. ‘We have to free them.’

  The queen looked to Taren, who must have had ‘I told you so’ written all over her face.

  ‘Dear child,’ the queen bent down to explain, ‘there is no safe way to free them.’

  ‘Yes, there is,’ Ray insisted, ‘I know how.’

  ‘How do you know?’ Taren frowned, wondering if the girl was putting on a performance.

  ‘I was the one who created the Phemoray.’ Her confident statement made everyone gasp.

  Taren figured this h
ad to be a past-life thing. ‘Have you been hanging out with Telmo?’

  ‘A little,’ she confessed. ‘He’s fun.’

  ‘How long does she usually hang onto the traits of other psychics?’ Taren asked Rory.

  ‘That depends on —’

  ‘Does it matter how I know?’ Ray interrupted, like an adult dealing with a bunch of distracted children. ‘I’m going to need the crown I cursed and we’re going to need to take it to the Pit of the Obstinate.’

  ‘I can arrange that,’ the queen answered the child’s call to arms, as Aurora sent the steward to find the menfolk.

  ‘We should get Telmo here pronto,’ Taren suggested.

  ‘That is a very good idea,’ Thurayya agreed.

  No member of the royal family of Phemoria had the need to arrange for transport to take them out to the Pit of the Obstinate. Just in this small family gathering there were five people with PK ability to provide transpersonal teleportation to the site, which had spawned a revolution and a curse on the Phemorian queens for over a thousand years.

  Like Dead Man Downs, this place had the vibe of an unpleasant death about it, although the last woman had been sacrificed at the Pit of the Obstinate over a thousand years ago. The last blood sacrifice here were not female, however — they were male, including the last King of Phemoria.

  ‘This place still gives me the creeps.’ Zeven shuddered, as he looked up at the dead remains of trees silhouetted against the night sky.

  ‘Not me,’ Taren disagreed, ‘I met the Grigori here.’

  ‘Really?’ The queen was most impressed to hear this.

  ‘Mm-hmm. They saved me from the Phemoray,’ Taren advised.

  ‘And from me,’ her mother guessed.

  ‘Ah, memories!’ Taren shrugged and made a joke of it.

  ‘Yes, thanks for the invite, Highness,’ Lucian had to say. ‘This is certainly the most interesting family gathering I’ve been to in a while.’

  ‘Why, thank you, captain.’ Qusay-Sabah Clarona was appeased.

  Mythric found Lucian’s comment amusing. ‘You really haven’t seen anything yet.’

  ‘I can’t see a damn thing it’s so dark,’ grumbled Zeven. ‘Where is this pit anyway?’

  ‘Further afield.’ The queen pointed ahead through the long dead Cathedral of Trees, where Telmo and Thurayya were leading them.

  ‘In that case.’ Zeven whipped a glow stick out of thin air and cracked it to shed light on the parched, barren clearing they were crossing.

  On the far side of the Cathedral of Trees there was a large marble staircase, which led up to a sacrificial platform; the pit was beyond.

  Thurayya was staring up at the platform with tears in her eyes. ‘What we did here … was horrible —’

  ‘Today is not about the past.’ Telmo dropped down beside the girl to advise her. ‘Today is about giving each and every soul in this pit a future.’

  Ray nodded and as her perspective shifted she calmed down.

  ‘So what is to be done, Ray?’ Taren asked, once they had all gathered around in support.

  She placed her hand on the metal case in her grandmother’s hands. ‘This crown was formed from jewellery found on the dead women in this pit. The Phemoray were drawn forth to it, by the bloodletting of a man.’ She paused to silently mourn that instance. ‘To reverse the curse, we reverse the spell, which is almost always harder to do than casting the spell in the first place.’

  ‘So what …’ Zeven theorised out loud. ‘We separate the crown into its original jewellery and offer it back to the pit?’

  ‘Yes,’ Ray confirmed. ‘But because the Phemoray were attached to the crown by way of a male sacrificed at the hands of women, they can only be cast out of the crown by a woman resurrected at the hands of a man.’

  Ray looked to Satomi, who smiled proudly at her granddaughter. ‘There is truly a reason for everything,’ she said, her eyes welling with tears. ‘You could not imagine how many times I dreamt of being able to return this spiteful energy back into history where it belongs.’

  Thurayya nodded, as if she had been aware. ‘It is a small recompense to amend for all the harm your foremothers have caused you and this family, but it is all I have to offer,’ said Thurayya, and everyone present knew it was not a child speaking with them anymore, but a very old soul. ‘Father.’ She looked to Zeven. ‘I’m going to need your assistance with the first part of the returning ritual.’

  Zeven came and crouched beside his daughter. ‘Anything you need, sweetness, just ask.’

  Thurayya smiled with delight at her father’s adoring gaze, and held a hand to his cheek affectionately. ‘How men have changed since my time.’ She shed a tear of relief. ‘So some good has come from all the horror.’

  Zeven was a little spooked, but nodded with a reassuring smile as Thurayya took hold of his hand.

  ‘Unite the people,’ she declared.

  ‘Unite the people,’ Zeven echoed, agreeing that sounded like a mighty fine idea.

  The crown of Phemoria’s metal containment box was placed on the altar on the sacrificial platform that overlooked the dark drop where the pit lay beyond.

  ‘No matter what happens,’ Telmo instructed, ‘no one is to pull a weapon or think a hostile thought, that applies double if you are male.’

  Everyone nodded.

  ‘Captain, you are going to have a better view of this than anyone,’ Telmo warned, ‘and it may not be very pretty at first, but the uglier it gets the more love you send them.’

  ‘We’ve been through this sort of thing before, Merlin.’ Lucian referred to him as he had during those dark times in another universe.

  Telmo grinned. ‘I didn’t realise you remembered.’

  ‘Oh, I remember a whole lot,’ Lucian teased the kid. ‘I remember Teo too.’

  ‘Oh.’ Telmo appeared a mite discomfited about that.

  ‘Don’t worry about me.’ Lucian prompted him to get on with the rite. ‘I can take care of myself.’

  ‘Yes, you can,’ Telmo agreed, happy to return his attention to Ray and Zeven. ‘Are you ready?’

  Zeven looked to Ray, who closed her eyes a moment. ‘I have to recall every item of jewellery I put into this crown and the order in which I added them.’

  Taren caught her breath. ‘That’s a high difficulty factor.’

  ‘You think?’ Lucian uttered quietly aside to her. ‘I bet you still have the specs of the Orion weapon, and the formula for the chemical compound to aid Kila against it in your head somewhere?’

  ‘Of course I do,’ Taren replied, as this was leading to another very touchy subject for them — what to do about Kila? She knew what had to be done and Lucian really didn’t want to go there again. Still, somewhere inside she also knew she could leap over into another universe and pop back to this morning and no one would ever know she’d been gone.

  ‘There you go,’ Lucian summed up. ‘When something is vitally important, you remember.’

  Taren looked to Lucian to find him smiling at her; perhaps she wouldn’t be forced to leave him behind after all. ‘But you have to be in the right time and right place to deliver that information,’ she pointed out.

  ‘Yes, we do,’ he agreed and looked back to the proceedings as Thurayya gave Telmo the nod to open the container. As soon as he did Lucian caught his breath, his eyes turned to the heavens above the opened case.

  ‘The Phemoray?’ Taren said.

  ‘They’re out.’ Lucian kept his voice to a whisper. ‘And they’re pissed off.’ His sights were darting all over the place, as the atmosphere surrounding the site was churned by sudden, erratic winds.

  With her father kneeling at her back, both arms around her middle, and Mythric and Satomi flanking them, Thurayya made a rising motion with both her hands and the crown rose up into the air and liquidised into hot molten metal. At the same time, what little remained of the Cathedral of Trees behind them ignited into flames.

  ‘Ignore it!’ Telmo implored everyone to maintain
their focus on protecting Thurayya.

  Taren looked across to see Aurora struggling to remain detached and strong. Having no part in the proceedings, Taren walked over and placed one arm around her shoulders.

  ‘I’m cool.’ Aurora forced a smile as she watched the fantastic scene unfolding with her daughter at its core. ‘I always suspected that her choice of name was no accident.’

  From the spinning ring of liquid fire, Thurayya snatched items of jewellery one by one and placed them back in the container. With every item she took the wind died a little more and so did the fire behind them. As the last item formed and was dropped into the container, all the commotion seemed to die down, but Thurayya continued to utter her incantation in Phemorian.

  Taren felt Aurora’s tension ease and, looking back to Lucian, he appeared more in need of a hug, so she obliged immediately. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘They’re devastated,’ he explained, ‘and very scared. They think we are here to destroy them.’

  Taren smiled up at Lucian to reassure him. ‘Not to fear, we’re here to free them.’ Taren felt very giddy suddenly and had Lucian not been holding her she would have dropped to the ground. ‘Hold me …’ she mumbled, as she blanked out and became a dead weight in his arms.

  ‘Oh dear.’ When Lucian saw his wife’s eyes roll back in her head, he knew some not so good news was on the way. ‘Taren?’ He gave her a little shake to be sure this was a precognitive fit and it startled him when she came round.

  ‘Oh shit!’ Taren was distressed.

  ‘You saw something?’ Lucian whispered, not wanting to disturb the ceremony still in progress. ‘You were only out for a micro-second!’

  ‘I have to go,’ Taren mumbled, ‘but I’ll be back.’

  ‘What did you —’

  She vanished.

  No one noticed Taren leave; all were focused on Thurayya as she fell silent and the atmosphere calmed completely.

  ‘Is that it?’ the queen asked. ‘The end of the Phemoray.’

  Thurayya turned back to the spectators. ‘No, they have only lost their influence in the physical world. What we do now will set all the souls in this pit truly free. Thank you Father, Grandfather.’ She gave them leave to step back.