Seeker (40 page)

Charlie put the muesli away and poked Jake's stomach. “Yep, but it can be done.”

* * *

It was a familiar journey to Sam, more so than he had expected. But this time he didn't feel any sense of trepidation approaching the factory, he simply followed Frederick in. They passed through the great passageway that split the factory in two; all the while he could
feel
the upyr around him. The place was oozing with presence, and for a moment it felt like Sam had come home. Among his own people.

In almost thirty-five years he had never felt such a sense of belonging, and he didn't like it. This new life had been fostered on to him by Frederick; it was not one he had wanted.

He had been happy…okay, so not ecstatic, but content with his life. Sure, there were things in his life that irritated, but it was all part of who he was. But now, now he had no idea who he was. Or what.

Without knocking Frederick opened the door and entered the antechamber of the Three. Sam followed him in and stopped abruptly once his eyes came to rest on the tapestry. He had seen it before, of course, a week ago, but now he was really
seeing
it.

Frederick turned to speak to him, but Sam ignored him and walked straight over to the tapestry. He ran his hand along the surface.

“Sekhmet,” he whispered.

* * *

Frederick eyed Willem suspiciously. The man had been very quiet since they had found the severed hand, apart from when he asked his annoying questions about being an upyr. Frederick was never designed to be a teacher, and he had allowed his attraction to Willem to blind him, lose his focus. As a result the Book was missing.

He blamed no one but himself. Celeste had tried to warn him, but he hadn't listened.

The inner door opened and Nate stepped out. He bowed before Frederick. “Mr. Holtzrichter, the, erm, Three await you.”

“Fine,” Frederick said, “can you entertain Willem here?”

“Of course, sir, I can…”

Willem threw Frederick a look. “Right, after all this you think I'm taking a back seat and being fobbed off with Jeeves here again? Sorry, Fred, but don't think so.”

Frederick opened his mouth to explain the rules concerning the Three, but before he could say anything Willem walked on through the door. Frederick stormed in behind him. “Look, Willem, you can't just…”

Celeste held a hand up. “Everything is fine, Frederick, Willem is always welcome here.”

“He is?” Now Frederick was confused. Celeste never welcomed anyone into the meeting chamber so freely. He shrugged, and removed the holdall from his shoulder. “We have a problem,” he said, opening the bag and removing the box.

“You are quite correct,” Celeste agreed, walking over to Willem. “What are you?”

Willem narrowed his eyes. “I don't know. Thought you'd be able to tell me.”

“A few days ago Frederick and I tried to contact you, to open the connection that usually exists between a maker and his fledgling, but a barrier protected you. Knocked me unconscious,” Celeste added with a smile. “Unheard of, really. But last night I went back into the mindscape I had witnessed before, and I experienced twelve hours in the life of the Ancient.” She placed an ebony hand against Willem's pale face. “Events that you saw in your own mind, from preparing to meet Frederick in Tuzara, all the way up to the burning monastery at Cãpriana.”

The surprise on Willem's face must have matched Frederick's own expression. He still had one hand on the box, ready to open it, but Celeste's words had stopped him in his tracks. “How is that possible?” he asked.

Willem looked over at Frederick, and for a moment there was doubt in his eyes, but then he took a deep breath and spoke.

“Ever since I came to after Frederick “saved” me I have been seeing all kinds of strange things, events that I could not possibly remember. Including the events at that monastery. I think I'm some kind of oracle into the past.”

The room was silent for a moment, and all eyes remained on Willem. The new upyr was clearly uncomfortable with the attention, but he bore it well.

Celeste turned to Frederick. “Is it permissible?”

“Everything is permissible, but the Book says nothing of an oracle.”

“No, but much was lost in the monastery fire, much more than even you know, Frederick.” Celeste lowered her head. “I saw it, felt the Ancient's sadness at the loss.” She shook her head. “So much we do not know. Including, perhaps, tale of an oracle?”

Frederick thought about it for a moment. “If it is true, then Willem's help could be invaluable. He could see into the past, when Sekhmet made the promise to Onuris.” He walked over to Willem, and reached out for his hand. “That's why I was drawn to you; you're here to help me find the Seeker.”

Willem allowed Frederick to hold his hand. “I was thinking that, but…” He swallowed. “I thought you were drawn to me because…”

Frederick squeezed Willem's hand, sorry that he had got annoyed at Will earlier. “That, too. We were meant to be together, and together we can find the Seeker, and he will lead us to Sekhmet.”

“Sekhmet?”

“Yes.” Frederick nodded, and was about to explain further when he felt a mental tug. He turned to find Theodor looking into the box. “Ah, yes, as I was saying. We have a problem.” Frederick walked over to the chair and opened the box. “The Book has been stolen.”

Celeste let out a gasp, and Frederick nodded. Even Theodor seemed perturbed by this revelation. Frederick removed the severed arm. “This is all that's left of our thief.”

Theodor snatched the arm off Frederick and sniffed it. His face paled and he dropped the arm back into the box. Waves of confusion hit both Frederick and Celeste at the same time. Celeste moved forward, but Theodor stepped back.

“Theodor, what is it?”

Frederick had never seen Theodor pull away from Celeste before. He looked around, surprised that Erwyn had not stuck his oar in yet. That was when he noticed…“Erm, where is Erwyn?”

Celeste waved it aside. “Gone on one of his walka…” She stopped and looked at the box. Frederick knew that look in her eyes, and then he knew he had been right about Celeste suspecting Erwyn of something, but this…He knew Erwyn always had an issue with him, but surely even he would not…but then Theodor knew Erwyn's scent better than anyone, and he had taken a good sniff at the arm.

“Oh fuck,” Frederick said, at exactly the same moment as Celeste said; “
merde
!”

Theodor exited the chamber swiftly. If anyone could find Erwyn it was Theodor. Frederick wanted to go with him, but Celeste held him back.

“Frederick, we have other problems that need to be discussed.” She shook her head. “The timing of this is all wrong. To be offered an olive branch like Willem, and then all this…come with me.” She led Frederick out of the chamber, and looked back at Willem. “Please remain here, Nathan will be on hand should you need anything. We shall return shortly.”

* * *

“Erm, okay,” Sam said, putting that little bit of extra confusion in his voice. He watched the two of them cross the antechamber, and once they were gone he stepped out of the main chamber himself. He walked over to the tapestry.

“The Seeker will find Sekhmet,” he said, reaching out for the tapestry. “Is that so?”

* * *

Francis waited. From the moment DCI Rowe had entered the house he could tell she was someone who liked to command attention. She was a big woman, in all ways. She looked at them with her steely eyes; stretching the drama of the moment was her chosen method of extracting information. Prolonged silences, designed to make people sweat and feel obligated to fill them with words. Any words. But Francis wasn't going to be pulled in so easy. He cast a quick look at Sandra, and it was clear she was near breaking.

So far DCI Rowe had asked some odd questions about Willem's spirituality, his religious beliefs, if he was a follower or a leader…They were all very pointed questions, and Francis didn't like where they were heading. Not that he actually knew, but he had a nasty suspicion he wasn't going to like it.

“I have reason to believe that your son has become caught up in a cult,” Rowe finally said, once she realised neither Francis nor Sandra were going to break.

At this Sandra looked close to panic, so Francis offered her a hand of support. They had tried to get Lawrencia to attend, but she had told them that Curtis had playschool at half eight so she would never be able to make it. Francis was glad of that now, since he knew she'd react in a much more vocal, and completely unhelpful, way than Sandra.

“Will and religion?” Francis shook his head. “No, he doesn't follow his father in that way. But…a cult? And what reason is this?”

“Almost nine years ago, actually on October 28th 2002 to be exact,” Rowe said, not bothering to check any kind of notepad, Francis noticed, “a nineteen year old boy, Robin Turner, went missing in Ashington. He was on his way to see his girlfriend after work, and as usual he would pop in to see his mother on the way, even called his girlfriend to let her know he was ten minutes away, but never materialised.”

“As sad as that is, it's a long time to keep an investigation going.”

“Yes, and the official investigation was shut down several years ago once there were no further leads. Robin was reportedly seen in London early 2003, but after that nothing but unsubstantiated sightings. I have kept it open as my own personal project.” At this point Rowe leaned forward, and her voice became softer, no doubt affecting her maternal tact. Francis didn't buy it for a second. “I got to know the Turner family well, and I saw the devastation Robin's disappearance caused their lives. I'm sure you can understand,” she added, looking directly at Sandra.

“Yes,” Sandra said, her lower lip quivering. Francis squeezed her knee.

“My investigations led me to a vampire cult, and I have reason to believe one of their more esteemed members is now Robin Turner.”

“Vampires? That's ridiculous,” Francis blurted out. “What has this got to with my son?”

“Glad you asked. After painstakingly searching through the CCTV of Southend High Street to verify the story Charlie Connolly told officers in Southend, we discovered that your son has been seen, in quite intimate detail, with Robin Turner.”

“This is insane. Willem called his sister yesterday morning, and tried to call Jake, too…”

“Which means there may be hope for him.” Rowe offered them a sad smile. “Unfortunately Robin is so brainwashed that it's almost impossible to extract him now, and his family have to live with that, but you don't. With your help we may yet be able to rescue your son.”

* * *

Frederick looked out towards Kent, the sun bright against his eyes. Even so, a wind was wiping up along the marshes, which suited his mood just fine. During the walk from the factory Celeste had finally admitted her doubts about Erwyn; for a long while she had suspected he was up to something, but she did not know what. His stealing the Book confirmed her worst fears.

“He's a Sekhite,” Frederick repeated out loud again, hardly able to get his mind around it. But saying it made it seem real somehow. As much as he disliked Erwyn, and had suspected him of shady dealings, to think that he would betray the Three to the Brotherhood…“How long?”

“Have I suspected him?” Celeste asked, closing in on him, after allowing him to walk ahead in silence for a time. “For a few months, mostly in the lead up to our visit here. Ever since we started making arrangements he has been more…irritable than normal. If that's possible.”

For a second Frederick did not respond. “How long do you think he's been a Sekhite?”

“That I do not know.” Celeste shook her head. “We shall deal with that once we return, by then perhaps Theodor will have a lead on Erwyn's whereabouts. But for now we have another problem.”

“Like we need another problem,” Frederick said with a grim smile.

“Oh, you shall like this one. Alyson Rowe is visiting Willem's parents.”

The silence hung over them like a death shroud. “Robin Turner,” Frederick said.

“Yes. Both you and Willem were caught on CCTV in Southend.”

It had been a long time since Frederick had taken Robin Turner's body as the new vessel for his ka, and for a long while he had stayed away from England while the investigation had run its course. But the then-Detective Sergeant Rowe was tenacious, and had continued her own private investigation. For almost nine years she had not let up. He had hoped that while he spent a few years in France she would have given up the ghost.

“What are we going to do about her?” he asked.

“I do not know, but we shall have to take care of it once and for all. But carefully. In the meantime you need to return to France.”

Frederick turned on Celeste. “What? Now? No, I am needed here to find the Seeker. We are so close to the fulfilment of prophecy, the return of our creator. Rowe cannot stand in the way of that!”

Celeste took in his anger, and let it slide off her. “You are not thinking clearly, Frederick. Your presence here endangers everything. With Rowe so close on Willem's trail it is only a matter of time before she starts snooping around Southend. We cannot risk her seeing you.” She looked towards the general location of the factory. “Right now we shall have to put our new oracle to test.”

Frederick swallowed his anger, feeling pushed aside. “You're not serious?”

“Very much so. What you know of the prophecy only scratches the surface. Having experienced the Ancient's final moments I now know this to be true. But with Willem we can reach into Onuris's experiences directly…Then we shall find Sekhmet.”

Frederick folded his arms and turned away. “This is going to end badly,” he said.

19.

Her children were everywhere. Lily had spent much time walking around Southend, taking it all in now that she was seeing and feeling clearly once again. She had missed chunks of time in the past, sleeping until she was needed again, but her latest absence from the world had been the longest yet, and so much had changed since the time of Egypt and Memphis, well over four thousand years had passed and humanity had advanced very far. From her time as Lillian she knew plenty of the world, and the way humanity had tamed it, but she knew little of what her children had been up to in her absence. What she really needed was someone who could tell her everything.

She had passed many of her children, but none of them seemed to be aware of Lily's presence. The gifts her blood had imbued them with had faded from lack of use, and now they were much like the humans among whom they lived. Gone was the natural enmity.

Disgusted, she had returned to her home, the home Lillian had created. She was about to enter when she felt the one presence she wished to share. Crossing the road was Sam, and with him another of her children. The one called Frederick. Although his sense of presence was not as strong as Sam's, Lily could feel her blood in Frederick's veins, much more so than any other of her children.

She followed them all the way to Canvey, careful to shield her presence from Sam. He was still not ready. Just a gentle probing of his mind showed her that; he was barely aware of his true self. But soon he would be, and when the time came she intended to be nearby.

She watched them enter the converted factory, and for a while she remained outside, reaching out to feel her children within. Most of them were like those she had already seen around Southend, closed to their potential. But there was one, a female presence, who was more.

Content to leave Sam with the rest of her children, Lily left the factory to explore the island of Canvey. She found the residential area, and again many of her children mixing with humans. There was a small holiday camp on East Canvey, and she watched as families played. So much joy, thinking they knew love.

“Hey, you're in my light,” said a small voice from ground level.

Lily looked down at the small girl who was lying on a blanket spread out on the grass. In her hands she held a pink Nintendo DSI, one earphone in, the other dangling on its wire, and looked up with something like contempt in her eyes. Lily frowned at the affront. Her shadow swept across the girl, blocking the sun's rays from hitting the girl's skin.

“Am I?” Lily asked, not especially bothered by this.

“Yeah, think you can move?”

Lily gave this careful consideration, her eyes never leaving the girl, who couldn't have been much more than twelve. There was something about her, almost as if she was…Lily focused, seeing the blood that ran through the girl's veins. Only the child was not of her blood. Lily pulled back in disgust. The girl was nothing, some strange hybrid, the offspring of a union between one of hers and a human. The thought of such pollution sickened Lily. She made to move towards the girl, end the misery of her life, when she felt a tug of familiarity.

Lily looked up and narrowed her green eyes. Yes, she had heard right. Even now Sam's mind was on her, his thoughts consumed by her.

She glanced down at the girl, and turned away. “Today's your lucky day,” she said and walked off, heeding the silent call of her love.

* * *

Sam needed someone who knew. Frederick and Celeste had left him about half an hour ago, and in all that time he had done nothing but stand in the antechamber looking at the tapestry. It was typical of Egyptian hieroglyphs, very much the image of Sekhmet that could be found in any book or on any website about Egyptian gods, yet still it captivated him. It had nothing to do with the obvious care with which the tapestry had been woven, but rather the sense of knowing that Sam felt when he looked at it.

He was reminded of the woman who had appeared before Onuris on that first night in the temple. For a moment he had seen her with the head of a lion, but still her green eyes stood out. And then there was that moment when he'd made love to Lilly; when it felt like he was two people.

On the one hand he
had
been Willem making love to a woman for the first time, and on the other he
had
been Onuris, lover of the living goddess Sekhmet, pressing into her in the way that she liked.

Two sets of green eyes, their emerald sparkle enticing him, drawing him in.

The Seeker will find Sekhmet
.

No, he corrected himself. Not two sets of green eyes, but one set belonging to two women.

He
had
been drawn to Lilly's garden. Up until now so much of why they had connected made little sense. It seemed as if Frederick had been…

Someone was standing behind him.

He turned and found Nate watching him from the doorway. Again, the short upyr was dressed in an immaculate suit, and Sam wondered if he ever wore anything else.

“I see you are captivated by the work of our Lady Celeste.”

“Yes,” Sam said, turning back to the tapestry. “Celeste did this?”

“Yes, sir,” Nate said, sidling up to Sam. “Art is her way, always has been. Perhaps you are also captivated by the promise our goddess brings us?”

“Something of that ilk.” Sam thought for a moment. Nate had to know the story. If what Frederick said was true then it was linchpin of the upyr world. “Celeste wishes me to help her find the Seeker.”

“Yes, my Lady explained this to me before she left with Mr. Holtzrichter. You are an oracle into the past.”

“So it would seem.” Sam smiled. “But I know very little of the prophecy. What can you tell me?”

Nate was quiet, and looked up at Sam, probably deciding if he was allowed to explain. “Very well, sir, if it will help. The prophecy tells us that the Seeker, the reincarnation of the High Priest Onuris, will come to a small fishing settlement south of Prittlewell a decade plus one after the millennium has turned. The Book mentions the name of this settlement; Stratende.”

Willem remembered studying English history when he was in school, including the history of Essex. “Right, the twelfth century name for Southend, which is presumably when the Ancient deciphered that piece of prophecy from his dreams.” Sam swallowed. He did not remember seeing that in one of his visions, yet somehow he knew it precisely. “How will this Seeker know Sekhmet?” he asked quickly, before Nate could pick up on his little slip.

“We do not know, sir, we only know that he will find her. Be drawn to her. The Book says;
And the High Priest will seek her out, And he shall come unto her; He shall know her and she shall know her
.”

“
She
shall know her? What does that mean?”

Nate gave a small shrug. “It has never been clear, even Mr. Holtzrichter is uncertain as to the meaning of that.”

Right, because he's so clever
. He thought about what Nate had said, and smiled to himself. He certainly had come unto Lilly, in more ways than one. Sam turned from the tapestry, and walked towards the outer door. He needed to think.

“I have to walk for a bit, is that okay?”

“Of course, sir, please do explore the factory. If you need anything then by all means call on me.”

Sam nodded. “Thank you, I'll do just that.” With that he left the antechamber, his mind awash with dots linking together.

* * *

Erwyn leaned against the cabinet, one hand in his pocket, the useless arm just hanging—folding his arms simply did not work anymore—and waited as Professor Malory transcribed the pages Erwyn had pointed him to.

Erwyn had found Malory on the internet, an expert in dead languages, now retired from academic life. But he still offered his services for the right price. He had a healthy retirement fund, but Erwyn guessed that a man like Malory needed to feel useful too. Although, once Erwyn had arrived at Malory's home, the old professor confessed that he simply loved pouring over rare texts. He had heard rumour of the Book of Sekhmet, which proved how well connected the professor was, but he believed it to be little more than the rumblings of disenfranchised university professors looking for something to make their lives a bit more interesting.

When Erwyn handed him the Book, Malory held it with reverence. For sure he didn't truly understand the significance of it, but the historical importance is what interested him so much. This served Erwyn fine. As long as the professor was only engrossed in the Book for its place in history, then he would not ask any awkward questions.

Malory instantly dismissed the translations made by Melinda and Frederick, which were written on separate pages inserted into the relevant places of the Book. He wasn't interested in what others had to say about the text, he wanted to transcribe it himself.

“This is most unusual; I have never seen a book written in so many different languages before. Sumerian, Egyptian…there is some Greek in here also, and…Yes! I do believe this is Kassitic.” Malory looked up, removing his glasses, his old grey eyes filled with excitement. “Dead languages, extinct languages, this book is a cornucopia of language, a linguistic expert's wet dream, you might say. Quite fascinating. The author, or most likely authors, travelled far and wide.”

“That's great, prof, but can you tell me what this passage actually says, like?” Erwyn was as interested in languages as the next man, well, as long as the next man wasn't Professor Malory, but he wanted to get this over and done with. For certain Frederick would have alerted Celeste by now, which meant soon there would be upyr out looking for him. The influence of the Three stretched far and wide. Leaving the country was a priority.

“Yes, yes, of course. Let me see.” Malory replaced his glasses on the edge of his nose and peered closely at the Book. “Whoever translated this before did a good job, and got a general sense of the passage right. However from my understanding of Kassitic, it should read;
Onuris shall appear unto the Children of Sekhmet, shrouded in the shell of a mortal man, and with him shall return hope. But before he is known confusion will rage in him; he shall be rejected by his past and the fires of his truth will explode
after another's
hunger
is sated.”

“Wait.” Erwyn rushed to Malory's side and grabbed the translation made by Frederick and Melinda. “It says here,
he shall be rejected by his past and the fires of truth will explode
in
hunger
. There's nothing about
another's
hunger.”

“Yes, the previous translator clearly used Sumerian as a guide, but there is a marked difference between Sumerian and Kassitic. The second half of this passage is written in Kassitic, a very little known language, it died out in twelfth century BCE following the death of the last Kassite king of Babylon in Susa. I'm not surprised this passage was translated wrong, it is a difficult language to understand,” Malory said, irritation plain in his voice. He let out a sigh. “My understanding of Kassitic is limited, but the meaning is clear. The fires of truth will explode from one person, but only after someone else is consumed by hunger.”

Erwyn remembered Frederick's version of the events in the alley, how he had been consumed by the hunger and struck out at Willem.
Before
the oddness of the Rebirth that followed. Erwyn slammed his fist on the table. “I was right!”

Professor Malory jumped. “Oh, I say. You were?”

“Yes, Onuris awoke after dying as a man. It's Willem, his whole Rebirth…everything that has happened since is a result of Frederick's hunger.” Erwyn smiled grimly. “Which means Julius lied to me. All this time I've been…” He blinked. Malory was looking at him like he was mad, and for all Erwyn knew maybe he was. Mad to have believed Julius all these years. The gullible young upyr taken in by the wise upyr who spoke of such wonder, such promise.

He grabbed the book, and stole out of the old man's study before the professor could utter another word. Such was his haste that he failed to pick up the translated passages Malory had removed from the Book.

* * *

Celeste passed through the Canvey Wick nature reserve, but she did not pay any attention to the wildlife there, nor the wonderful foliage that brushed against her. She was lost in her own thoughts.

She had left Frederick out on the marsh, still smarting from her commands. He was adamant that he would remain, that he was the key in finding the Seeker. Celeste knew it was true, that he had been chosen by the Ancient to be the one to find Onuris, and his role was vital. But his being there was now a risk they could ill afford. Bringing him to England had been a risk in the first place, but with no other means of locating the Seeker they had had no choice.

Now there was another option. Willem would assist them, of that she felt sure. He was still out of his depth, she had seen that in his eyes, but he also showed a willingness to help in the way he had freely offered up the truth of his visions.

Frederick could smart all he liked, ultimately he would do as Celeste wanted. He always did.

And once he was gone the Three, well, Celeste remembered ruefully, the
Two
would find a way to deal with Alyson Rowe. Celeste wasn't sure how yet, but Rowe had been a thorn in their side for long enough now. Perhaps it was time to call Rochelle in from the side-lines, too. She had served them loyally, played an important part in recent events. It was time such loyalty was rewarded.

With Erwyn's defection there was a vacancy in the Three to be dealt with, too. But that would keep for her return to France. Alas, it would never be Frederick. Even after they'd found the Seeker, Frederick's focus would be on Willem. It was time to accept that Frederick's path no longer merged with hers.

* * *

Once again the weather was beginning to turn, the previously blue sky now invaded by greying clouds. Lily smiled, thinking of that ignorant half-breed child and how the weather would disrupt her sunbathing.