Crystal Warrior: Through All Eternity (Atlantean Crystal Saga Book 1) (65 page)

She began peeling an orange while fighting her mind into focus.

‘We did think of approaching the local boat clubs to see if we could hire someone to take us out but that seems unlikely. The attitude of the locals is interesting—bordering on hysteria or paranoia. They either don't want to talk to us or immediately start prattling about aliens and space visitations.’

‘The only other thing we thought of doing,’ Case added, ‘was going public, causing a stir on local television or something. It's big news at home yet here it hardly rates a mention—like it’s just another statistic. I guess they think if they don't talk about it they won't have to worry about what's causing the problem out there, or even have to admit there is one. I got the impression from Commander Aber-what'sit they just expect either the yacht will be found floating in the Triangle once the force field dissipates, if it dissipates, or she's simply another statistic, another mysterious disappearance in the Devil's Triangle. They arrogantly discount George's ‘knowing’ yet
they
know nothing!’

‘And the longer they hold us off the less likelihood we have of bringing them back sane or even alive,’ Georgina broke in. ‘I tuned into the energy this morning. I believe they're still there—but for how much longer? Do you have any idea how long someone can survive in that state?’

Torr put down his knife and fork and said gently, ‘Imagine you'd put that question to Dogon. How do you think he'd have answered?’

There was nothing he didn't remember!

Georgina stilled, her eyes on his large dark hands where they rested by his place mat. She didn't dare lift her gaze any higher. Those hands were distracting enough. It was all too easy to visualize them swinging a great iron broadsword, gentling a restive stallion—or bathing her body with the steaming crystalline water of a golden spa. He had those memories too.

‘If only I had you there now.’

‘Control your thoughts! Fran and Gould's lives may well depend on our clear thinking.’

‘As you command Golden One, but only until they're safe.’

Forcing her focus back to the plate in front of her, Georgina was astonished to find she'd peeled and segmented the orange. Dogon, she muttered to herself, arranging the segments in a star shape on her plate, what had Dogon taught about the state of dematerialization?

Trembling a little, she took several slow breaths to center herself in that place of ancient knowing that had been Gynevra's, a place that still filled her with a deep sense of wonder every time she connected with it. At last she fixed her eyes somewhere about the middle of the table.

‘The danger isn't to be found in the state of de-materialization but in the manner of coming and going to or from it. Handled incorrectly this can result in insanity or even death on re-materialization. While in the state of de-materialization a person floats in a condition of euphoria. It's very pleasant and given the choice at this point one would choose not to return. Thus it's wise to clearly certify the intention to return before entering this altered state of being. One should also be prepared for travelers rescued from such a state to be resentful, ungrateful and certainly disorientated. More especially if the state of de-materialization has been summarily visited upon an unenlightened soul without his desire or knowledge. Intense healing will be required using the color rays of indigo, gold, and deep rose pink.’

Lapsing into silence, Georgina dropped her eyes to her own hands now resting on her thighs. She didn't dare look at Torr. What was he thinking?

‘That we've both been given a gift of knowledge more precious than anything either of us could ever have imagined and now we have to find a way of using that gift.’

Breathing deeply, heart awash with emotion, Georgina could only nod. Precious indeed!

Then he said aloud, ‘We have to convince your Commander to take us out there with back-up medical personnel.’

‘But where exactly?’ Case asked.

‘I could pin-point the position of the crystal and where we need to be positioned to program it if the Coast Guard would give us access to a map showing the co-ordinates of the force field. I also believe I could be fairly accurate as to where the yacht would reappear,’ Georgina said. ‘The problem is in getting them to listen to me.’

‘Now that's something I can help with,’ Torr said, sitting back in his chair with a relieved smile of satisfaction. ‘My old Oxford pal's father is Commander in Chief to the US Navy. I've stayed in their home a couple of times. Let me make a phone call.’

Chapter 36

Torr knew they'd succeeded. Their connection and balance had been perfect. Once they'd attuned to the crystal the programming flowed as if they'd run the program many times together instead of briefly in Commander Abernathy's personal lounge while Coast Guard personnel organized the operation. More amazing was his sense of the crystal itself welcoming them. He was struggling with his 20th century beliefs that scoffed at the notion of inanimate objects giving off energy, but in that other lifetime he'd understood crystals were energy, were vibration, therefore able to communicate. Every man, woman and child of Atlantis had known that fact just as every present day citizen accepted electricity and nuclear power. Back then Gynevra had taught him to sense the different energy of happy and unhappy crystals and he'd discovered for himself that a programmed crystal was a ‘happy’ crystal.

His Atlantean self knew they'd left the ancient shard on the ocean bed very ‘happy’ even though his macho British self of 1998 AD was inclined to ridicule the notion. Which side of him was it then, that held this sense of heaviness—and why? Was it Torr or Taur who asked, ‘Were they too late? Were those aboard the `Astrid' already dead, or worse, simply disappeared without trace? Would the yacht be found abandoned as had so many before it?’

Damned if it mattered who asked the questions. He needed answers!

He forced himself to relax however, under the restorative energy flowing from the hands of the woman who called herself Harmony, a crystal healer found and contacted at Gina's request by someone on the Search and Rescue team. Small and dark with long hair greying at the temples, it was hard to define her age. Her black eyes shone with intelligence and something else Torr decided he could only call awareness. From the moment she'd been introduced to them at SAR headquarters that morning he'd had the feeling Harmony knew a lot more of what was going on about her than did ordinary folk. It had been a relief. Gina, with Case for back-up, had wanted the same for him and they'd had to trust that whoever was found would have the spiritual strength to help if necessary.

She'd certainly convinced them both when, after listening in silence to their story, she'd asked, ‘Why then did my angels guide me to bring only black obsidian and emeralds instead of all my healing crystals?’

There was black obsidian at his feet now and in his hands and it was amazing how much more grounded and together he felt once she'd handed him the stones. Gina was probably clutching the two small lumps of raw emerald Harmony had left with Case—Gina! Cursing abruptly, he sat up.

‘Something's wrong with Georgina,’ he said to Harmony. ‘Can you ask the Captain to find out what's happening on the ‘Cornwallis’?’

There was a murmur of voices behind him, then Captain Hogan, who was in charge of the ‘Lopez’, the forty-four foot motor lifeboat, which had powered them into place on the northern side of the force field, appeared at his side.

‘I've just been in communication with Commander Abernathy on the ‘Cornwallis’, Mr. Montgomery. He says Ms. Hackville has fainted. The medic is treating her for shock and Mr. Valois is doing—whatever it is he does.’

‘Spiritual healing is what he does,’ Torr growled, then remembered to add, ‘Thanks.’

His patience had been severely stretched by the attitude of the Coast Guard brass that morning. It had been plain they were only being humored because of his connections in high places. The reversal of the force field didn't seem to have changed anything. In his impatience and concern for Gina it was easy to brush aside the errant thought that his own understanding was very recent.

He felt as if heart and lungs had fused into a solid lump in his chest. Superimposed on the blackness threatening his consciousness was a vision of Gynevra curled in a lifeless huddle on the bunk in the cabin of the ‘Nyalda’ after psychically transporting ship and crew to the safety of Heceuda Harbor during a killer storm. Taur's heart had stopped beating then and swelled in his chest with this same terrible certainty she was dead. One day perhaps he would learn to instantly filter out the memories belonging to that other life but right now they were too new, too raw to be pushed aside.

‘Breathe, man,’ Harmony muttered above his head. ‘Your Georgina'll be all right. She's got the emeralds and she's got Case—and she's got us. Now you just tune in to her, lend her some of your strength. I'll send extra energy through you as well. She'll be all right. Case'll bring her round.’

Torr did as Harmony suggested and after a moment was relieved to sense a weak response to the energy link he made with Gina.

‘Where's Captain Hogan?’ he asked.

‘Right here, Mr. Montgomery. We're under way. We've started moving into the area of the force field. There's an occasional flutter of the instruments but basically the field seems to be clearing before us. The ‘Cornwallis’ is moving from her side also. The plan is to converge on the point where Ms. Hackville indicated the ‘Astrid’ could—appear.’

The Captain's voice was carefully neutral, reinforcing for Torr that outside of himself and Harmony everyone else aboard the lifeboat was working outside their comfort zone, probably deeply confused as to whether they should be happy or afraid at the rapid dispersal of the force field. Which would no doubt bear little resemblance to their state of mind if—when, he silently amended—the ‘Astrid’ reappeared where Gina had said it would.

Truth was he was close to borderline of the comfort zone himself. With his unusual height and brawn and what he'd been told was a slightly menacing air of arrogance and authority, he wasn't used to other men looking at him as if he was five foot tall and built like a weed. He swiped an arm across his forehead, annoyed to find he was starting to sweat. ‘Thanks. That's great. Is there any way Ms. Harmony and I can get aboard the ‘Cornwallis’?’

‘You ever winched in and out of a chopper?’ Captain Hogan asked.

The undercurrent of superiority in Hogan's voice slashed deeper at his male pride and there was a split second when he allowed himself to imagine the dapper Captain trying to swim in full uniform. Recognizing the thought for the pride-pricked temper spurt it was, he instantly suppressed it, rose lazily to his full height, which forced the man to look up at him, and allowed a small smile to curve his lips.

‘A couple of times. What about you, Ms. Harmony?’

The woman's black eyes were sparkling.

‘Never! Lord, am I glad I got out of bed this morning. This has been the most exciting day of my life!’

Suddenly totally relaxed, Torr chuckled.

‘And it ain't over yet!’

‘What's going on? Why have we stopped?’ Georgina asked from a huddle of blankets on the wide bunk in the cabin of the ‘Cornwallis’. A luxury cabin cruiser already close to the area they'd needed to be, the Coast Guard had commandeered her for the operation, flying her crew to temporary accommodation on nearby Andros Island.

‘It's just a chopper circling round,’ Case said from behind her where he stood channeling healing energy at her shoulders. ‘Relax. It's all going to work out, George. The force field's already dissipating and we're cruising towards the spot you reckoned the yacht would reappear. All eyes are peeled up there and the flying boats are searching. If they hadn't designated this a secret operation you'd be world news. You know that, don't you, little sister? I'll bet there are a few strained, silent faces up on that deck. They didn't believe you'd make any difference at all. Thought you were just another crank and if that yacht turns up you'll have them really worried. I doubt they'll want to change the secrecy status either. They don't want to believe what you've told them because it shakes too many of their comfortable foundations, opens up too many other possibilities—’

A clatter of heavy feet on the stairs interrupted Casey and a large, dark form filled the doorway.

‘Gina! Are you all right?’

‘Torr! How—You didn't appor—?’ she breathed.

He only had to enter a room and something within her flowered and it definitely wasn't her mind.

‘No, I didn't!’ he responded tersely, dropping to his haunches by the bunk, eyes anxiously searching her face. ‘Harmony and I came in by chopper.’

‘The most exciting day of my life and I can't tell anyone about it!’ Harmony sang as she danced in behind Torr and went straight to Georgina's feet. ‘You did it, sweetie, and the brass out there have gone very quiet. They're tip-toeing into the field as if they expect the devil himself to leap out of the water at them. Lord, your feet are cold!’

Georgina scarcely heard what Harmony said. Her eyes were fixed on Torr's hands clenched into fists against the floor as if to keep from touching her. Briefly she let her gaze mesh with his.

‘What happened?’ Torr demanded, eyes searing into her like ice burning. ‘At the point you communicated the program was complete, your energy felt strong. I felt good too. I completed the drawing back in the prescribed steps and came back into physical awareness feeling only slightly disorientated. The obsidian and Harmony soon put that right. What happened? Did I draw back too soon?’

Just like Taur, demanding answers. It was so easy in her weakened state to slip between the worlds, back to Castle Heceuda, to remember him demanding answers about her health, the crystals, Lord Reggo, her whereabouts when he needed her. It was but a tiny thought-step further to recalling his way of tossing her over his shoulder and storming off to a private place to extract the answer he wanted. There was the same dark intensity in his eyes, the same muscle clenching in his jaw, the same magnetic force that drew her to him.

Not yet. Holy Ist, not yet!

A gentle, calming warmth suffused her body and with a start of pure joy she recognized the energy of the Goddess and drew strength from it. Like a gift from that far-off time, she realized now as then, she only had to think the holy name and the strength and power of the Goddess was with her.

Drawing it round her like a protective mantle, she answered calmly, ‘It was nothing you did. In fact you did everything perfectly. I just had this terrible sense of panic as I came back and it—I can only explain it like a black hole. It just sucked my consciousness.’

‘Like when Gynevra saved the ‘Nyalda’ from the storm?’ Torr interrupted abruptly.

Vivid memories scrolled with his words; the violent tossing of the ship, the howl of the wind, the terrifying crash of mountainous water. The fear-filled shouts of men, and Taur promising he'd try and come for her. Georgina blinked the memories away.

‘I—yes, I guess. Only not as devastating. All I know is I couldn't fight it. The medic simply says I fainted. Whatever, I'm only just starting to warm up now. Case has been working overtime channeling energy into me.’

‘Sure have,’ agreed Case, ‘and working up a real sweat. That black hole was the inside of a freezing chamber. The energy's already flowing better with you at her feet, Harmony. Did you guys fly across the force field area?’

Torr blinked, making a visible effort to bring himself back from some deep place in his mind. ‘Yeah,’ he said, sharing a wry grin with Harmony. ‘The pilot insisted he only did so because he'd been ordered to and swore it was a matter of ‘pure luck’ we had no problem.’

‘I was just telling George she'd be world news if they weren't keeping it secret,’ Case said.

‘Let's hope they don't change their minds about that,’ Torr muttered. ‘It'd be a bloody circus.’

‘You could put your hands on her too,’ Harmony suggested. ‘The more energy we pump into her, the quicker she'll warm up.’

For an unguarded moment their minds brushed. More heat than words flowed between them. The emerald flare of his eyes touched her cheeks with color but the communion of their minds set them on fire.

‘You'll heat up all right when I get my hands on you but it won't be while we have an audience.’

Torr surged abruptly to his feet, his head brushing the low ceiling of the cabin.

‘You two are doing just great. I'll go check what's happening upstairs.’

Harmony's startled gaze followed him out of the cabin then swung back to Georgina. Her eyes were deeply penetrating and Georgina, cheeks blazing, offered a weak smile. Exhaling slowly, Harmony said, ‘It's not just ‘past life’ stuff going on between you two, is it?’

Georgina shook her head but before she could add anything to the older woman's perception, shouts were heard topside.

As abruptly as it had come the heat left Georgina's cheeks.

‘They've seen something. I want to go up. Let me up!’ she demanded with uncharacteristic force, struggling to sit up.

‘George, barely an hour ago you were in a dead swoon!’ Case remonstrated.

‘I don't care!’ Georgina cried. ‘Come on. It'll be the ‘Astrid’.’

A thudding of feet on the stairs heralded Torr's appearance in the doorway again.

‘They've sighted a yacht exactly where you said it would be. Are you coming up?’

His glance swept all three in the cabin but it was Georgina, struggling out of the cocoon of blankets, who answered. ‘Of course we're coming!’

‘Here, wrap this one around you,’ Case ordered, thrusting a blanket at her.

With Case following closely, Georgina climbed the stairs behind Torr, her fingers still tightly clenched around Harmony's emeralds.

A tense silence greeted them on deck. Steaming at full speed, the cruiser was momentarily closing on the yacht. The closer they came to the drifting vessel the more obvious it became that something was dreadfully wrong. The sails appeared intact but great tatters of a shiny ocherous substance hung from them, from the mast, the railings, the wheelhouse, like grotesque ropes of swamp moss drifting in the stillness.