Chapter 8: Close the Wall Up with Our English Dead
I was about ninety-nine percent sure I was dreaming now. Any minute and I would wake up back in my bed in the flat and it would be time to start researching again and I would stare at the picture of Edward Kennish in one of the occult books and he would just be some guy who died centuries ago… not someone very alive and standing across the table from me.
"Poor dear, I think she's in shock," Sadie noted, coming to sit beside me at the table. I wasn't entirely sure when I'd sat down, but at some point, my legs had refused to hold me upright any longer.
"I take it you know who I am," the nearly-400-year-old-man noted, staring down at me with a look of interest.
"I… I saw your paintings… and your book. But you can't be… that can't be you," I stuttered.
"Oh, I assure you, I am that man."
"But you're… you…"
"You'll be wanting an explanation. Perfectly understandable. Sidney, would you be so kind as to start? I think it would be easier for her to hear your story first."
"Would be my pleasure," Sid responded, coming to sit across from me. I could feel the nausea raising in my stomach, but I swallowed against it.
"I suppose the story begins with the love of myths," Sid began, his face alight. "You see, my sister and I have always been special. When we were four, I had this dream. I'd dreamt that our parents had brought home a dog for Christmas. A black lab with a solid white spot on his back. The next morning I ran to tell my dear sister all about it. We shared everything, didn't we Sadie?"
"Oh yes. Everything," she smiled, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back.
"But before I could start, she launched into a description of her own dream. You can imagine my amazement when I realized it was the same dream. Exactly the same dream. Since then, we'd been focused on our abilities not only to share dreams, but to glean the emotions of others. Although we did not yet possess the sight, we could feel that other world. Sense the presence of the dead when they were near. We've been researching magic and the occult from the time we were little. And then the accident happened."
Sadie's face fell at his words, but there seemed to be no real sadness there. It was as if she were playing a part. Pretending to be sad because she knew people would expect her to be upset over the death of her parents.
"Okay, so maybe accident isn't the right word," Sid allowed, a wicked smile alighting his face. "My father was teaching me to drive, you see. It was only supposed to be a simple trip down the street. But our annoyingly observant parents had become a little too concerned by our interests. They were planning to separate us, and we couldn't just let that happen. Also, we needed to come close to death in order to gain the sight. That was what everything we had read had said. It was amazingly simple, driving that car off the bridge, into the river. It was also simple to trap our parents in the car while we escaped out the open windows."
"You killed your own parents," I rasped out, the horror stealing my voice. I felt tears well in the corners of my eyes. How could anyone be so cruel?
"It had to happen," Sadie chided, reaching across the table to take her brother's hand.
"Yes it did," Sid confirmed, but his eyes, his disturbing eyes seemed to dance with excitement at the confession. Sadie may not have felt remorse or sadness or anything really, but it was clear Sid enjoyed the pain he had inflicted. "It solved a lot of problems. We took our research to new and exciting places. Greece, Rome, Saudi Arabia, even the oldest parts of China. We learned so much. And eventually, we came across the paintings of Edward Kennish."
At the mention of his name, Edward – or Elias, or whatever – gave me a small smile as he poured himself a drink from a table by the window.
"Of course, Edward Kennish was not his real name, and we soon came across a set of books he'd written under his true name, Elias Townsend. We'd read the ancient texts on gaining immortality and untold abilities, but the most detailed works had been lost. Elias' books went into just enough detail to peak our interests. We searched for more, and eventually, more found us."
"He is a great mentor," Sadie inserted, smiling over at Elias. "He walked us through the Rites of Demeter. Explained their importance. We never could have achieved this without him."
"He's obviously done it himself, you see," Sid explained. "There was all the proof we needed that all we wanted could be gained."
"But we had to prove ourselves worthy."
At this admission, both Sid and Sadie turned to Elias who now stood at the head of the table.
"I received the sight when I was thirteen years old," Elias began. "My older brother, Tobias, was convinced that I'd been possessed. Back then, they took possession quite seriously. I was tied to a stake and the townspeople prepared to burn me alive as a witch. But I'd thankfully made a friend. Her name was Diedre, a lovely young lady who had perished of influenza twenty years before. She rushed into the flames and untied me. All the people saw was my ropes falling to the ground seemingly on their own and while they were in shock, I fled. In 1631, a book had been recovered. An ancient text of the Greeks. It told the story of Demeter and Persephone, but more importantly, it told of the group of people who worshipped her, and the ritual they performed. You see, it was their dream to remain always to protect her sacred temple, and they found a way to do it."
Here, he stopped, becoming somewhat fixated by the view outside the window. This had to be a dream! I had to wake up. Mentally, I returned to Stephen and his bed and the way his lips had felt against mine. I wanted to be back in that bed more than I'd ever wanted anything. No, I just wanted Stephen. Stephen to come barging in with MI5 at his back.
"I must admit, it worked far better than I expected," Elias continued. "I never planned to live this long. To see all I have seen. It becomes maddening after a while. The loneliness."
"You never have to be lonely again," Sadie chided, moving to stand by him. Hesitantly, she placed her hand on his shoulder, but he merely shook it off.
"No. And certainly not now that Rory is here. Do you realize just how special you are, my dear?"
He came closer, until he was right in front of me, his fingers trailing down my temple. I was completely frozen.
"There was a boy back when I performed the Rites. An Enlightened, as they were called then. He was part of a tribe of traveling mystics that lived in France. He was like you, Rory, but where you never meant to have this power, it was thrust upon him on purpose. His people worshipped Demeter. They performed the mysteries and had proven themselves worthy. Hierophants was the appropriate term. It was their desire to perform the greatest mysteries, to imbue themselves with the power Demeter could give. To make them immortal and powerful. Of course, this ritual had not been done for thousands of years and many were afraid of what would happen. So I, ever eager, volunteered to go first."
Something in Elias' eyes was terrifying. They were a little too wide, a little too nervous as they roamed over the room. I had the feeling that something had come unhinged there long ago and I simply couldn't look straight at him or I'd start screaming. Instead, I watched Sid, Sadie, and Jack as this story unfolded. Jack's expression was hungry, as though he wanted exactly what Elias described, while Sadie was watching her mentor with fondness.
But Sid, he no longer smiled and his eyes seemed to be calculating. It was an expression I'd seen in my dreams over and over, as though there was a puzzle he was trying to sort out.
"It was a success, obviously, and the majority of the tribe followed after me. But the one thing I hadn't considered in all my planning was my brother," Elias continued, his lips turning up in a sneer.
A tidbit of research came back to me. According to history, Elias' brother had killed him for practicing witchcraft. Obviously, history had missed out on a big part of the story.
"Tobias had followed me," he explained. "He'd watched the ritual as I'd performed it and believed me to be practicing the darkest forms of magic. As the tribe fell into their own deep rest, waiting to be awakened by the Enlightened boy, my brother charged in and put a sword through my chest. The remaining tribe made attempts to fight him off, but my brother had been well trained. They did succeed in running him off, but not before the Enlightened was killed, leaving no way for the sleepers to be returned and transformed. At least, not until now."
Slowly, the words he spoke began to make their way into my brain, flooding my senses until their horrifying meaning became clear. "You're saying," I began, my voice trembling, "that the people you're talking about… their still… not really dead?"
"Exactly. They've been waiting for you for centuries. You see, the great stone – the Eye of Isis, as you know it – had been in their possession, but it was my brother who stole it when he thought me dead, and took it with him to England. It was he that first smuggled it in with crown jewels, knowing it would be well protected. And then the stone was stolen, chopped into pieces and hidden away by the Protectors. Or as they call themselves now, the Shadow Cabinet."
I froze at these words. The Shadow Cabinet again. The grassy park sprung up in my vision again, with Stephen sitting at my side.
"You see, I knew the chances of my finding a true Enlightened by myself were slim, but if there were others looking for such a being… well, the odds were far greater. I found people, curious people, who had been researching myths and had stumbled across the Rites of Demeter. I instructed them on being true followers, on performing the mysteries. But each time I left out one tiny detail. I never told them how to wake up. I knew eventually, someone would want their loved one back bad enough. Someone would search hard enough, and eventually, they would find someone with the power."
At this, his gaze turned to Sid and Sadie with a look of rapt appreciation. Though I truly hated her, part of me wanted to remind him that it wasn't Sid and Sadie that had put in all the hard work to make this happen. Jane had, and they'd killed her for it.
"Aurora, come," Elias commanded suddenly, and Jack was there, lifting me out of my chair. His arm fell across my shoulders and we followed Elias out of the room and into the kitchen. It was a gorgeous kitchen, fully furnished with everything a cook could ever want. If I hadn't been so terrified, I may have actually been envious. A woman, the cook obviously, stood by a large oven, watching us curiously. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I registered the alluring smell of food, but my nervous stomach turned it into nausea.
There was a door leading down to the basement, which Elias opened, proceeding down the steps. It was dark, and Jack had to hold onto me to keep me from stumbling. I was aware of Sid and Sadie behind us, whispering to each other. It may have just been the fear throwing my brain into hyper drive, but it seemed like Sid was angry and that Sadie was trying to placate him, though they spoke too low for me to hear the actual words.
"Be careful of that last step," Elias ordered as Jack navigated me over the broken board.
And then Elias switched on the lights.
There, laid out on the dirty floor of the surprisingly large basement, were at least a hundred people. All were completely motionless, their eyes closed, their chests still. None of them shivered in the cold or twitched in their sleep. But, like Stephen and Sid and Sadie, none of them appeared dead. There was no chalky pallor or stiffness to the limbs. They were simply waiting.
Waiting for me.
White floor, dark room, candles stacked on every conceivable surface, though none of them were lit. It brought back something, a memory I'd nearly forgotten. This terrible tangle of bodies on something white. A dark room flooded with candles. I'd seen this before… in the sewers.
"I've kept them safe, and as you can see, I've added to their numbers over the years."
And now that he'd mentioned it, I noticed their clothes. Though some wore heavy dresses and sturdy suits of another era, others were dressed in clothing I actually recognized, some even from this decade.
"You want me to do it again. The mysteries," I asked, my voice barely above a whisper. Fear tore through me, making my stomach quiver. Last time, Stephen's life was on the line and I had refused to let the fear in, at least not fully. But now… fear was all there was.
"Soon. But first, there are a few more puzzle pieces to line up."
And then another image flashed through my head. The Oswulf stone. The powerful stone that had been so instrumental when we'd done the ritual before. I could still smell the moist air of the sewer, still feel the exhaustion that had been tearing at my limbs. I was certain – mostly certain – that they had no idea where we'd put it and no matter what, I would not be telling them this time. My friends weren't here now for them to threaten and I wouldn't endanger lives again.
We stood there, silent, waiting for him to finish his story, but Elias was ignoring us completely now. He walked among the rows of his sleeping friends, muttering in various languages. I recognized French and even Spanish, but others I had no clue. His eyes resumed that crazed glow and he grew more and more animated at each body.
"Well," Sid began, gripping my hand and pulling me back towards the stairs. "Maybe now would be a good time to leave our esteemed mentor to his own people and have a spot of breakfast."
Sid pulled me up after him, with Jack following along behind, looking slightly nervous. Maybe he'd just realized that being immortal might make you crazy. Crazy enough to talk to mostly dead people that couldn't hear you.
Sadie was the only one that lingered, watching Elias with a rapt expression, before finally trailing after us.
The smell hit me as soon as we reentered the dining room. I'd never seen a breakfast spread so grand, and I come from the south where people really know how to cook. Where hearty food is practically our pastime.
"Go ahead, Rory. Try anything," Sid encouraged, his smile exuberant now. "Martha is a fab cook. I promise you've never tasted eggs this grand!"
Holding out a chair for me, Sid motioned for me to sit while Sadie and Jack found seats of their own, already digging in, but Jane's face flashed up before me, along with a full set of sirens blazing inside my head.
"I'm not hungry," I muttered, backing away.
Jack's lips turned up into a smile. "Don't trust us? That's insulting."
"It is actually," Sadie agreed, her eyes narrowing.
"You should build your strength, love," Sid insisted, motioning again to the chair. "We have quite a big day for you and if you're weak, it won't be nearly as fun."
I wanted to protest, but my stomach was practically snarling. Sid may have a point.
And then, a wave of worry and fear so strong took me, and I wobbled on my feet. The strength of the emotions – emotions that I was sure hadn't come from me – were so intense, I felt as though someone was standing right behind me, calling out to me.
"Easy there, little diamond. I told you. We have to keep up your strength," Sid chastised, helping me into a chair. And just as fast as the feelings had come on, they were gone.
~SoL~
I was surrounded by angels. Though I guess this should have frightened me – since usually people who are surrounded by angels are dead – I was comforted by this fact. I knew all of these angels, every one of their ceramic faces. Somewhere in the house, I could hear my Cousin Diane humming to herself. I'd been here so many times, I knew every rough spot in the carpet, every scratch on the wall. I knew that the angel with the blue gown that rested on the mantel had a chip in her wing from where Uncle Bick had accidently knocked it over at a Christmas party. But despite how familiar this all was, I wasn't happy here. In fact, I'd never wanted to leave anywhere so much in my life. It wasn't that I didn't want to visit with Cousin Diane, but the fact that there was somewhere so much more important I had to be.
"Please, Rory, where are you," a voice called out, and I flung myself off the couch, determined to find the speaker. "Rory."
"Stephen," I shouted back as I stepped through the doorway to the kitchen… or at least the doorway that usually led to Cousin Diane's kitchen.
Instead, I found myself in Thorpe's flat, surrounded by the people I wanted to see more than anything in the world.
"There has to be somewhere we haven't thought of yet. Some house they purchased in someone else's name," Boo argued while she paced the living room.
Looking down, Stephen was seated on the couch right beside where I was standing, so close I was surprised I couldn't feel his hair brush my arm.
"We've been looking for Sid and Sadie for months, Boo! If we couldn't find them then, how are we supposed to find them now," Stephen shouted, his voice breaking slightly. He held his head in his hands and I could see them shaking.
"Stephen, mate, don't give up. We'll find her," Callum assured him, taking the seat beside him and throwing an arm over Stephen's shoulders. "Rory has a real knack for trouble. She'll likely burn down the house and catch the attention of all the media in London."
"But I'm right here," I called out, reaching to place my hand on Stephen's shoulder, but... I couldn't feel him. Looking down, my hand was certainly resting on his shoulder, but it was as though I were holding air. "Stephen," I called again.
His head turned. Jerked in my direction so suddenly that I was sure he could finally see me.
"Did you hear that," he asked, leaping up from the couch.
Thorpe moved closer, his eyes darting around the apartment. "Hear what?"
"Rory. I swear I heard her!"
"Stephen," I called out. "I'm here!"
But it was obvious they couldn't see me. I was a ghost. Had I died in my sleep? No. If I were truly a ghost, Stephen, Boo, and Callum should all be able see me. Unless… unless the power of the terminus in me made me a special kind of ghost. One that was invisible even to them. The panic was welling up fast now and I tried to call out again, but–
"Wakey, wakey, love." Sid's voice, beside my ear.
I shot out of bed, despair crushing me as I realized I was not in Thorpe's apartment, but still in Sid and Sadie's fun house.
"You were calling out for your protector again. Just how close are you and Stephen," Sid inquired. He'd pulled a chair right up to my bed and was straddling it backwards while staring at me with rapt attention, as though I were the most exciting thing he'd seen all day.
"What… what time is it? What's going on now?"
"Oh, it's only five in the afternoon. We had to drug you quite heavily when we brought you to the house. I'm guessing they're still in there, making you a little groggy. But don't worry. I have plenty of games to keep you awake."
At this, I scooted as close to the wall as I could get, pulling my legs up to my chest. "What games?"
"All in good time. But to understand the necessity of the games, you'll need a little background. I know Jane had you perform the mysteries, but I take it you had no idea what you were doing."
At this, I merely stared at him, waiting for him to continue. The longer I let him talk, the longer I held off the "games" – which, coming from Sid's mouth, sounded terrifying.
"You know, I've often wondered if Demeter is truly to be credited for all this… or if she's even real at all. You see this," he asked, pulling a heavy-looking black stone from his pocket. A black stone that exactly fits the ones Stephen described from Clover's road trips. "Mystical stones. They're all over if you know where to look. Each holds power. Power over the human body, over the elements of this world. So, maybe there is no Demeter that empowers us. Maybe it's all science and knowing how to manipulate the stones."
He slid the black rock back into his pocket, his eyes dancing now. "Do you know why we have to go to sleep for the ritual? Why we must bring our bodies to the brink of death? Metamorphosis. Like how a caterpillar must crawl inside his cocoon to become a butterfly. The kiste, the kykeon, even the alabaster chalices, all are ingredients necessary to prepare our bodies for the transformation. And as we fall into our deep slumber, our souls are protected in the stones. In my case, the piece of the Eye of Isis I wore around my neck. Our souls are preserved while our bodies grow stronger, flooding with magic. We awaken when the Enlightened guides our souls back to our bodies."
Despite the fear coursing through my system, I found myself watching him with wide-eyed interest. Likely a result of the remaining drugs still swirling in my system.
"Do you know why you were able to bring Stephen back," he inquired, and I had to admit that I was stumped.
"I'm a terminus," I responded lamely.
"Exactly. You were the magical stone that protected Stephen's soul. Where my soul went into the bit of the Eye of Isis that was around my neck, Stephen's soul went into you. You protected him while the magic in you healed his body on the inside."
"I… I what? What do you mean…? Stephen was inside me?" My voice was trembling.
"Think. During that time when he was dead, did you ever feel as though he were right there with you? Like you could feel his presence even though you couldn't see him?"
I hated thinking about that time, those days without him, not sure if I'd ever see him again and fearing that if I did, I could never touch him. But now that he mentioned it, I did have that feeling. In the hospital, after… after his heart had stopped… I kept feeling as though at any moment I'd look into a room and he'd be standing there. In the flat, going through his things, I'd turned around, half-expecting to see him standing there watching me. All the places we'd searched for him, they'd never felt right… because he was with me all along.
"You did," Sid answered for me. "Of course, his body wasn't prepared the way ours were. He's been restored, of course, but he's exactly like he was before. He'll live, grow old, and die. But our path is a little more exciting."
As he spoke, the door behind him opened and two men entered. They wore near identical black suits, though they were completely different. The first man was short with white hair and large beady eyes. The second was tall and broad with a beard as dark as his hair. The short one smiled at me – a chilly smile that had me shaking.
"Ah, gentlemen, I had hoped for more time," Sid complained, but stood from the chair. "Allow me to introduce Hobbs and Winchester," Sid introduced, pointing to the short one first, then the tall one. "Members of the esteemed Shadow Cabinet."
"The Shadow Cabinet?!"
Hobbs continued smiling at my clear dilemma, but Winchester remained motionless.
"We'll all be working together now," Sid exclaimed with a tint of a sour note to his voice. "Isn't it wonderful?"
This was all too much to take in. I knew the Shadow Cabinet was important; I'd been trying to gather information about it for days, and now the entire organization was working with Sid and Sadie?
"There's still one piece to this puzzle you're missing, little diamond," Sid explained, sitting next to me on the bed and throwing his arm over my shoulders. He pulled me close, until our noses were nearly touching. "It's time for you to get your memories back."
