The Colour of Death (27 page)

Leaving Portland early this morning, armed with the coordinates, a satellite GPS and a map downloaded from Google Earth, Fox had reassured Samantha it would take him only a couple of days to find the cult, alert Sorcha about the killer, and then return — hopefully with her.  Although he had briefed his aunt to tell Jordache to send out a search party if he wasn't back after the weekend, he had felt confident.  Even after Jordache had warned him against gong and Professor Fullelove had admonished him for being unprofessional and taking unplanned leave.  He didn’t feel confident now, though.  His phone had stopped working hours ago and he was stuck in a forest of giant sequoias, in the middle of the night with only the cry of owls for company.  He felt tired, lost and hungry.  And every muscle in his thighs and buttocks ached.

His car had got him as far as the tiny town of Road’s End, where the road had literally ended.  The townspeople had warned him to stay clear of the Indigo Family:  ‘People go missing round those parts.’  Taking his car as security, they had loaned him a horse, a black gelding, complete with a saddlebag of basic supplies and a hunting rifle, which fitted snugly in the saddle holster.  Fox soon discovered that his mount, unlike the calm horse he had ridden at Connor Delaney’s, was easily startled and as temperamental as a Ferrari.

Following the GPS on the roads was one thing but off-road was a different story.  Regardless of the GPS instructions, he could only go where the terrain — and the horse — let him, which was rarely in a straight line.  Gripping tightly, he had crossed rivers, traversed ravines and cut through forests to get here.  But
here
wasn’t  yet where he wanted to be.  And it was getting dark.

The skittish horse seemed even more jumpy in the forest and Fox shared his unease.  He unconsciously touched the butt of the hunting rifle, reassured by its presence.  In the fading light there was something prehistoric about the monumental ferns and massive trees that made him feel an unwanted interloper.  It also reminded Fox of the first time he had seen giant sequoias in Oregon, the day his parents and sister had been murdered.  His greatest unease, however derived from being lost.  The coordinates Connor Delaney had given him covered such a wide area, he began to fear that he would never find not only the settlement but also the way out of the damn forest.

“At least it isn’t raining,” he muttered as he reached a wide, circular clearing.  Ahead, hidden among the ferns, was a small wooden hut, which encouraged him to think he was getting close.  In this wilderness it could only belong to Delaney or his people.  Perhaps it was a hunting base.  Suddenly the horse reared up.  As Fox calmed the spooked animal he looked down.  The earth was softer and more churned up than elsewhere in the forest, and Fox assumed the horse had momentarily lost its footing.

Stiff and aching, he dismounted and tied the horse to a tree.  He tried the hut door but it was locked.  Looking up beyond the looming trees he saw the first stars appear in the evening sky.  It would be dark soon so he decided to pitch camp for the night.  He fed and watered the horse, heated some stew and beans on a small Primus stove, then rolled out his sleeping bag on the soft ground.  As he maneuvered his aching body into the bag the forest was surprisingly noisy and he feared he wouldn’t sleep.  He looked up at the moon.  Almost full, it seemed to hang in the night sky like an overripe fruit.

He wondered what reception he’d get tomorrow — assuming he found Sorcha.  He had no desire to visit Delaney and his cult tomorrow, let alone appear uninvited and without warning.  He did, however, find the prospect of shaking up the self-absorbed Delaney and his people by telling them they had a killer in their midst perversely satisfying.  Before he could ponder this more, his exhausted body overruled his racing mind and he fell fast asleep.

Chapter 40

That night, the Wives served Sorcha and her father a sumptuous supper in his private quarters.  As they poured purple-red wine into Sorcha’s glass and filled her plate with roast chicken, potatoes, zucchini and beans — all from the settlement, her father assured her — she sensed the Wives watching her.  Their constant scrutiny heightened her unease.  Was she among friends and family or supping with her enemies?  Eve had told her to trust no one but did that include her own father and his women?  The wine tasted richer and headier than the red she had drunk at Samantha’s.  As she sipped it she welcomed its calming effect.  “Tell me about my mother.”

Delaney looked up from his food.  Zara leaned toward him.  “Eve approached Sorcha and made a nuisance of herself.  She told Sorcha she was a friend of Aurora.”

“She didn’t make a nuisance of herself,” Sorcha said.  “She greeted me.”

“Xara, you’re being disrespectful,” Delaney scolded the blonde, who reddened.  “Eve has been with the family from the beginning.  She was one of the pioneers.”  He turned to Sorcha.  “Eve was indeed a good friend of your mother’s.  She and Aurora were with the Indigo Family back in the old days, in California.”

“Before you joined?”

He nodded.  “It was Aurora who introduced me to the family.  Your mother changed my life.  She revealed me to my potential and my destiny.  And when I brought the family to Oregon she was by my side.  My strongest ally.”

“What was she like?”

He smiled.  “Very like you.  Brave, gifted and beautiful.”  He looked suddenly wistful.  “And headstrong.”  He sipped his wine and gestured to her locket.  “She always kept you close to her heart, Sorcha.  Never left your side when you were a child.  Wouldn’t let any of the others care for you.  She was protective right up to the end.”

“How did she die?”

“An aneurism.  It was very sudden.”  He frowned, as if unaccustomed to questions, picked up the earthenware carafe and poured her more wine.  “What did you see today, Sorcha.?”

“Not much.  I wasn’t allowed to leave the settlement.”

He smiled.  “It’s for your own safety, Sorcha.  I lost you once.  I don’t want to lose you again.  Things will be different after Esbat.”

“What the hell is this Esbat everyone is talking about?”

‘You’ll experience it for yourself in two days’ time.  Did you see anything that jogged your memory today?”  He turned to Zara.  “You did show her around the settlement?”

“I tried,” Zara said defensively.  “Until she insisted on looking around by herself.”

“I seem to remember the tower,” Sorcha said, sipping more wine.  “I don’t know why but I feel it’s key to regaining my memory.  What happens inside?  What function does it serve for the Great Work?”  She sensed the women stiffen.

“The Great Work?” said Delaney, glancing at Zara.  “What have you told her of the Great Work?”

“She told me nothing,” said Sorcha.  “She said I had to ask the Seer.  You.”

Delaney nodded.  “It’s better I show you rather than tell you.”

“When?”

“When the time’s right, Sorcha,” chided Zara.

Sorcha ignored her.  “Will you at least tell me how it concerns me?”

Delaney smiled.  “It concerns us all.”

“You’re very inquisitive,” said Maria, the pregnant redhead, pointedly.

“You should know better than to question the Seer,” said Deva.  The brunette had made no mention of her baby since surrendering it that morning.

Delaney smiled at his Wives.  “It’s all right.  Sorcha has no memory.  She needs to ask her questions.”  He turned to her.  “Be patient, Sorcha.  I promise everything will become clearer on Esbat.  It’s only two days away.”

As the evening wore on, any further questions were parried with the same promise that all would be revealed on Esbat.  After supper, Sorcha excused herself and went to her room.  The wine had made her drowsy but she made herself stay awake by walking around the room, waiting for the others to retire.  When it was quiet she climbed out of her bedroom window and made her way to the Great Hall.  The moon was almost full and the clear night sky so luminous with stars that she kept to the shadows.  She reached the main doors of the hall twelve minutes before her midnight rendezvous with Eve.  She could see light in the gatehouse by the bridge but otherwise the deserted settlement appeared to be asleep.  She was anxious about what Eve might tell her but as she waited in the balmy air her drowsiness overcame her nerves.  Sitting on the soft grass, she leaned back against the wall and allowed her eyes to close.

She woke with a start, mouth dry, head aching.  Eve was standing over her, shaking her gently.  “Sorry I’m late,” she whispered, “but I wanted to be sure I wasn’t followed.  Come.”  She pulled Sorcha gently to her feet and led her to the edge of the forest at the back of the settlement.  When they were obscured by foliage she sat down on the grass.  “This will do.  The Seer has eyes everywhere but we should be hidden from your father and his Purple Powers here.”

“Purple Powers?”

“It’s what us old-timers call the Seer’s inner circle — his so-called Watchers.  The ones who wear the purple robes and tunics, the high-level pure indigos who are totally devoted to the Seer.”

“I thought everyone here was devoted to my father.”

“They are.  They
worship
him.  But the Purple Powers are his eyes and ears.”

Sorcha saw that Eve’s aura was pure indigo.  “Your aura’s high level and you’re a senior member of the family.  Why aren’t you a Watcher?”

She laughed without humor.  “Me a Purple Power?  I ask too many questions.”  She felt in her pocket and extracted a small color photograph.  “First of all, let me show you this.  It’s a picture of your mother and you.  Take it.  I have a copy.”  As Sorcha stared at the smiling woman in the picture, noting the eyes, cheekbones and hair, the oddly familiar face stirred a deep sadness within her.  “I took it a few days after the Indigo Family moved here.  She was very happy then.”

“What was she like?”

“What I remember about her was how full of life she was.  She always saw the best in people.”  Her voice hardened and she checked her watch.  “Sorcha, we haven’t much time and you need to understand what you’ve come back to.  In the past you’ve always been happy here but things changed recently and just before you left something happened that made you run away.”

“What?”

“I don’t know.  You couldn’t tell me.  You were too upset and there wasn’t time.”  She pointed to the tower.  “I’ve been concerned for some time about the darker aspects of the Seer’s Great Work and on the day you fled I saw you running out of there, very upset.  Something happened in there that made you run.  Something that frightened you.”

“What exactly is his Great Work?”

A sigh.  “It’s hard to define.  It’s been evolving over time, becoming ever more ambitious.  Before Aurora introduced your father to the Indigo Family, all we wanted was a place where Indigos could gather, explore their sensory gifts and use their third eye to get in touch with their spiritual side.  But after the Seer joined he took control and pushed the boundaries.  He wanted us to recapture the golden age of our ancestors, the Nephilim, the fallen angels.  From the beginning, he lay with  all the purest indigo women.  He once told Aurora that he loved her above all others but needed to breed a race of angels that could straddle this world and the next.  You may have noticed how many of the children resemble him.”

“What did my mother think of this?”

“Aurora fought him at first but after you were born she had complications and bore no more healthy children.  Aurora decided then it would be selfish not to allow the Seer to further his divine bloodline.  She worshiped your father.  She believed totally in his ability to leave his body and contact the other side.  She thought he was a throwback to the Grigori — the watcher angels who slept with human women and created the Nephilim.  So she accepted his other Wives and consoled herself that she was supporting him while he led us on a great journey.

“When he first moved us to Oregon, we were all excited to be in this beautiful and bountiful place.  He had led us to a promised land in this world and we believed he would soon lead us to one in the next.  He provided the funds that allowed us to build the settlement.  When he began building his tower, however, he brought everything in from outside:  craftsmen, stone and special materials.  He told no one what it was for.  Only that it would assist his Great Work, help him peer through the veil and observe the other side.  We discovered whatever we could by watching its construction.”

“What did you find out?”

“Not a lot.  It has several floors, no windows and a spiral staircase running up the center.  The walls are constructed of two layers.  The outer skin is basic stone, the inner wall inlaid with amethyst shipped in from Brazil.  And there’s a layer of what looks like black rubber between them.”

“Rubber?”

“I don’t know what it’s for.  Insulation?  Damp?  He called it his observatory and as it grew ever higher, so his own presence loomed larger over us.  He introduced stricter rules.  He began segregating sub-indigos from indigos, and adopting customs from other religions.  He forbade entry into the forest.  He introduced the Watchers, robes and a hierarchy.  He made everything more ritualized.  Esbat was once just a feast night for drawing down the moon, celebrated by Wiccans, but he made it into a formal ceremony, in which two white-robed assistants called Pathfinders were selected to accompany him to the tower and help him contact the other side.  He became obsessed with astral traveling — out-of-body experiences — and contacting the spiritual realm.”

“How did my mother feel about this, since she’d invited him into the Indigo Family?”

“At first, she had no problem with him reforming the family.  We needed leadership and he gave it.  But when the tower was complete, he became more autocratic and secretive and your mother grew increasingly concerned about what the tower was for.  She never doubted his powers but began to doubt his motives.  She researched the Grigori and the Nephilim and discovered that many sources regarded them as being not so much benign angels as fierce demons.  Your mother became worried about what the Seer was doing in there.  Especially when some of the Pathfinders summoned to the tower didn’t return.”