Seth watched in horror as his mother was dragged away by the guards. She clung to Saini but did not spare a glance for her second son. He could not understand why she would choose Saini. Seth was the one who worked with her to document and draw the flowers and herbs which she used in her work. Of course Saini knew how to grow and work with the herbs, but Seth could tell what each one looked like. He could not only interpret their use but he could also document the information in a way unique to himself.

As he turned to leave with his father, tears filled his eyes. He was alternately angry and fearful. What would he do without his mother for even a day? His father was an old man and didn't understand him. Lost in his emotions, Seth felt himself grow inwards every day. He retreated to his paperwork and spent all his time drawing pictures and writing on the papyri which his father made available. He was inconsolable.

His father worried about him and tried to encourage him to work with the chief wife who had no children. Seth refused all overtures. Ashai often attempted to reach his son through coaxing or counselling.

'You are my only son now Seth. I am an old man. You must learn to watch over and care for all the family when I cannot.'

'You let my mother go,' was his only, continuous response.

Eventually Ashai gave up and coached his eldest daughter in the ways of the business. It was clear that Mié would never return.

When Seth came of age for marriage, he immediately refused to take a wife. Ashai, now close to death insisted that he must follow the ways of his people. Seth unwillingly consented. Of all the women who were offered, he finally accepted a wife from the people of his mother. She was young, tall, slim and golden, a worshipper of Sekhmet. She reminded him of his mother. While he should have loved her, Seth felt conflicted by the desire to be with her and yet the fear of losing her. He quickly realized that when she was pregnant, she left him alone. He saw this as his way out. He could continue to pour over his drawings and scribbles, ignoring the rest of the world. His wife, Leah, was always pregnant or caring for the babies. They came one after the other, all girls.

Over the years, Seth and his wife made eight healthy children. Two were dark like the people of Ashai. All the others were golden coloured. Seth's wife Leah was so disgusted with the emotional absence of her husband, that she called their last child Kesi, meaning born of a troubled father. Only one of his daughters appealed to him. It was Meribah. She inherited the dark colour of her grandfather Ashai and Seth's own ability to recreate drawings and scribbles. As she grew, Meribah often sat quietly and watched him at work. If she moved, she would be chased away. Meribah learned to be still and wait.

As Seth aged Meribah helped design and recreate more and more of his work because his left hand had become shaky. He refused to take any herbs. It was clear that death was preferable to the life he was living. Meribah seemed to understand her father well. She knew that the 'book' he was creating would be his legacy. Her faster hand, and delicate skill could work twice as fast as Seth. In no time she had reproduced what had taken him years. Meribah kept her copy hidden. For some reason she sensed that this work would be important. Sure enough, at Seth's death, the struggle over his 'book' tore the family apart.

Most of the girls had already been married for some time when their father passed away. None of the children or grandchildren from Ashai's wives really inherited the range of knowledge to make the most of the fertile land. Some had skill to grow, and others to harvest but few could utilize the herbs. None were willing to make the business prosper as a family enterprise. In-fighting began soon after Seth's demise. It wasn't long before the family was spread far and wide, expressing anger and mistrust as the overriding emotions. The cornerstone of contention was the 'book'. On his death it took on epic proportions. No one knew what happened to the original of Seth's lifelong work. His ability to read and write conferred special magic on him even more in death than life. In the New Kingdom, all papyri were held in high esteem. Seth's work was believed to contain all the mysteries of life. Since Meribah said little, her mother and sisters believed that she knew something important. When she refused to talk she was ostracized from the family.

Meribah disguised herself and travelled away from the north of Egypt, across the Nile, to the east. The loss of income and lack of male leadership decimated the clan of Ashai.

Jacob, astral travelling in a way that felt comfortable, discerned a change in his visioning. He no longer saw people moving as individuals, but lines of people then, just lines. What he noted was that the lines then began to criss- cross like the figure eight, dotted together, one after another before spiraling up and out. He frowned and shifted in bed, asking his spirit guide about the change. There was no response, but Jacob recognized the pattern and tried to place it in context of his astral observations. It took awhile but he realized with a start, which brought him back to his body, that he was seeing strands of his DNA. Willing himself to return to the criss-cross lines, he waited and watched. At a particular criss-cross in the strands, he saw what appeared to be a bright light. Honing in on this illuminated crossover, he was shocked to see two people he recognized. It was Pater and Coralee, his grandparents!

Jacob woke up then, unable to sustain his travel. No wonder I couldn't trace the line of people, he thought. I believed the descendants of Saini led to my father but it was Seth's decimated family. He knew intuitively that the men at Edgar Raeburn's house were also descendants of Seth and in a moment of clarity, understood that it was his mother who descended from Saini. That means, he considered thoughtfully, that when my parents found each other, the energies of Seth and Saini were once again united in me. Mié!

Half awake and half asleep, Jacob embraced the woman who drew him from his earthly life and introduced him to the astral world. He heard that disembodied voice again and recognized in it something powerful.. 'Rest now my child. I will visit again.' Jacob felt a caress over his body. He was sure that a hand touched his head. The source of energy was unmistakable. Saini had received the blessing of his mother before her death. Seth had not.

Cathy woke up knowing that Jacob had reached a profound moment in his visioning. His body was damp as it often was in the morning. His breath was even and without distress but she could almost see his heart beat in his chest. She loved his profile in repose. It was rare for him to be asleep which she watched. Love filled her heart for the boy/man she agreed to marry.

She waited, watching his eyes shift beneath the long lashed lids and knew he would wake soon. She refused to touch him or disturb him in any way. His travels were intense. Cathy had felt him return from those places before and knew that he could be startled into frightening tremors. She let him breathe and reabsorb his energy into awareness.

His beautiful eyes fluttered open staring at her with loving warmth. He reached for her, holding her close. He could feel his passion mounting. Nothing was said. There would be time to talk. The seductiveness of her stance flooded his being. Without words they allowed their passion to be fulfilled.

A little later the pair hurried to get ready for work. Neither regretted their early morning coupling. They were both buoyed by the love they shared.

'Matriarchal Mitochondria Cathy. That is what it's all about,' he announced acknowledging her contribution to his learning.

Over a hasty breakfast, he continued to share bits and pieces of his astral adventure with Cathy. She was amazed at her own grasp of the information.

'Jacob that is even more fantastic. What an incredible story! It also explains the books that Pater protected. It was an inherited practice to preserve the work of someone special. You don't think the information in them is all the way from Seth do you?'

'The papers are not as old as that, but they are old. I hadn't even thought so far ahead. I am still trying to accept the role of vessel for the energies of the twins.'

'Jacob this stuff is better than TV. I wish we had more time to talk about this now but we have to go,' she said, awareness of time dampening her enthusiasm.

'I am going to check on Marcus Pinter then head into the office. If all is well, let's have lunch?'

Jacob would have been happier to sit and analyze this new found knowledge but he was in the mundane world now and clients waited.

Catherine was up early. Little Mea had been very quiet throughout the night, waking only once for a good feed before settling down. How lucky she was to have this little baby to fill an aching void in her heart but Catherine realized it was really a substitute for something that was once real and tangible. She felt a melding of two energies, swirling inside of her, willing to join together but not yet connected. She had dreamt of walking out of a deep ocean, much like Venus rising but not quite so fanciful.

The sleeping child lay as peaceful and quiet as her sleeping husband. He had been up in the night, helping. What a kind and loving man she had for a husband. Little Mea began to stir. Catherine thought she might go to the nursery herself for the milk. The women were always busy. Her strength was returning. Picking up the little bundle, she had a moment when questions arose in her but she gathered an inner strength and moved towards the chamber aperture. Vincent, sensitive to each nuance of his wife, watched through narrowed eyes, forcing himself to remain calm, giving Catherine a chance to reclaim her life.

It was an easy walk to the nursery. Celeste had been about to bring the bottle.

'Catherine, Mrs Vinceent Wells! You are up already.'

'Celeste, everyone can't help me forever. I have to get moving. My strength is returning.'

Despite her strong words, she sat heavily in the comfort chair, holding firmly to Mea. Celeste brought a bottle of fresh milk which was immediately accepted by Mea. The little one was almost done when Catherine felt another presence by her side. A small face with big eyes, stared at her.

'What's your name?'

There was no immediate response. A little finger pointed instead at Mea and declared 'Baby!'

Catherine could see from the sunken eyes, matted hair and frail arms and legs that she had received little care.

'What happened to this child Celeste?'

'She was abandoned in the park by her mother, Catherine, Mrs Vincent Wells.'

'Just left alone?'

'Yes, no good clothes and no shelter.' Celeste longed to say that the baby was also found at the same place but wisely held her tongue. 'I watched for 24 hours but the mother never came back. I brought her here because she was cold and scared.'

Catherine finished feeding and asked Celeste to hold the baby. She lifted the little child on to her lap and whispered softly to her, much as she had done to the baby.

'What's your name?'

'Cilla'

'I have been asking her for days. She talks to you Catherine, Mrs. Vincent Wells.'

Catherine nodded. She held the little head against her breast and continued to whisper softly. Love overflowed from her heart. She raised tear filled eyes to Celeste holding little Mea.

'I have a child Celeste. I left him. I didn't want to. They took him away.'

Words tumbled out of her mouth. Tears flowed out of her eyes. The other women watched and waited, knowing this was a time of healing.

Vincent, who had made his way slowly behind his wife, watched from the aperture of the nursery, his own tears a mirror image. He gave no indication to anyone that he was a spectator. Only when he heard the whisper of his name, in a voice and tenor he knew so well, did he come forward and kneel at the feet of his beloved.

'Does our son hate me Vincent?'

'Never my love! He waits for you, just as I did, to return from those dark places which continue to haunt you.'

'Why was I there Vincent?'

'You stayed there for your own health and safety. Only you knew when the time was right and safe to return. You are here now with us. Your journey has been long, but we all welcome you with love in our hearts.'

'I don't want to go there again. I heard a child cry. In that instant, I knew that I could not lose my son again.'

'You must try to span the bridge of years and imagine our son growing. It is not part of your memory but I have told you so often that nothing was ever done without the blessing of your energy. I knew you were with me in spirit, as did Jacob.'

'Will he forgive me?'

'There is nothing to forgive. Your past and present are now one.'

'Celeste, prepare these children to come above. I must return to our home. If their mother is alive, I will find her and if not we will help these girls.'

Vincent wrapped his broad arms around the woman and child seated in the chair. To little Cilla who had never known a day of comfort in her life, the warmth of these two people felt like the best day ever!