Circle of Nine: Circle of Nine Trilogy 1 (24 page)

‘Nevertheless, Bwani found the Azephim a truly terrifying foe. It was difficult to gauge where their original power began and where the Eom charged them. The smell of death hung everywhere in this alien life-force. It was so pervasive that it was only spoken of in whispers in other worlds. Bwani knew that if he was to succeed in his mission with his chosen men he would have to move quickly. The Dark Queen had humoured him, but the Azephim would not allow them to live for very much longer and he could sense the stagnating fear beginning to moulder in his men. Smothering himself in oil, he waited for his council to advise him. Before entering the Web he had deliberately altered the brains of his Wizards so that Seleza would find them difficult to read accurately and thus be unable to deduce the Wizards were less advanced psychically than the Azephim. He chanted softly under his breath as he awaited his orders. ‘Lei! Oza! Lei! One! Ozone!’

‘The chant was swiftly picked up by the eight chosen Wizards who had entered the Web and they summoned the council as one. When the Wizards’ call was answered, it was not by the expected Masters but by Eom! Eom! The pressure in the Wizards’ heads intensified as the black crystal sent a direct communication. Their breath spun in spirals and an endless abyss of diamond stars began kissing death to their cells, resounding with the power of the forgotten heavens. The wind blew through the lifetimes that they had lived. Through the pinprick of their souls they witnessed the creation of the Great Shell.

‘The nine Wizards rose as one. Around them chanted a thousand voices of the Webx tribe. No more could they fear the Azephim power, for they were blessed by the black stone, they had drunk of Eom blood and eaten of Eom flesh and were made whole. To the inner chambers the Wizards strode. The few Azephim and Zegerists who attempted to stop their intrusion were turned to stone as soon as they looked upon the faces of the Wizards who were now the Eom made flesh. When they entered the inner chamber the death ray flashed, but the Wizards only laughed at the mild electric shock that they received. Inside the chamber the Eom was pulsating brightly. The Elders clung to the surfaces of the crystal, looking aghast at the scenes that the brilliant facets were revealing to them.

‘Bwani stood with his arms above his head and emitted a loud and terrible cry. The Elders fell to the floor where they stood, clasped in each other’s arms sobbing, for they had now been birthed into the world and could no longer be regarded as part of the Eom. Many angels now filled the inner chamber, but not fallen ones. They were of the Heztarra Galaxy, and they had wings of light which filled the chamber as they attempted to retrieve the Eom. But Bwani and his men were oblivious to all except the song of the Eom. The Rainbow Bird Wizards, holding the Elders to their bodies, touched the facets of the crystal and the Heztarra angels stood back and screamed their agony as the Eom disappeared into the Web.’

Khartyn’s milky eyes gleamed with an unfathomable hint of mockery.

‘The Wizards had not stolen the Eom,’ she said. ‘For in truth the Eom belongs to no race. The Eom decides itself where it wishes to be. Nay, not even the Webx Elders are aware of the Eom’s true source.’

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

They arrived in the new land, walking on the tips of waves. They entered the secret world. Flowers grew from their bodies, fruit grew from their hands. They knew all shapes, they were all things. They echoed the voices of the dead. They were dreamlike, they were deathlike. The serpent was consumed with flames, and no goddess followed.

— Condensed from the
Tremite Book of Life
, Column VIXCIII

I
glanced around uneasily as Khartyn continued her story. The sky had appeared to darken, and clouds had gathered, heavy as if with rain. A faint, rotting smell continued to waft to me on gelid winds. It sent a cold chill through us, and I had the fleeting thought that the air itself was displeased at this tale being told. Harsh croaks of distant, unseen birds added to the unwholesome atmosphere. Rosedark also appeared anxious; she kept glancing up into the sky. Her eyes avoided mine. But Khartyn was wholly relaxed as she spoke, with her legs stretched out in front of her, and her hands occasionally scratching at the insect bites that covered her arms and legs.

‘Gwyndion was still forming, a mere shootling, filled with sap, when the light suddenly went from his world. Although so tender and young — he had just been weaned from his Bowz Rozen and Tanzen — he, like the rest of his race, grieved for the absence of the light. Although still a shootling, he had taken the light for granted, as his divine right, just like the night stars and his own pine-scented breath. Gwyndion had believed the Eom would always be there, holding his family and his people within its embrace. Although the young Webx was barely sap-spawned, the Webx equivalent of being birthed, he could remember the angels that had entered his contented world of light. Angels who were like dark shadows against the sun. It bewildered Gwyndion to reflect how swiftly life had changed! His beloved Bowz Rozen and Tanzen had been stolen by the accursed stinking angels, yet even this loss — as devastating as it was — paled in comparison to the loss of the Eom. For that was when the darkness followed light and the plague crept slowly across their tropical paradise, breathing its soft-scented deadly breath onto Zeglanada.

‘The Webx Elders liked to claim that the first of their race were formed from the original Shell, from the salt water tipped from the Shell by the ancient lost Dreaming Ones. No Webx could now recall the original reason that the Webx had emigrated from the Heztarra Galaxy. Many legends had been woven to satisfy the curiosity of the Webx people, and these legends gradually became song, myth and truth. Over time, sections of Webx seeded other worlds, but in doing so they had to solidify their energy and become trees, shrubs, mountains and rocks. All sacred, and all Webx.

‘However, it was the early settlers of Zeglanada, who first crossed from the Heztarra Galaxy, who had found the conditions on the deserted island compatible to their life strain. The island, which they christened Zeglanada, an ancient Webx word meaning “new dawn”, was filled with abundant foliage, tropical rainforest where crystal-lake ferns flourished. Billions of brightly coloured wildflowers added dramatic contrast to the towering cliffs that stood in silent guard over the ocean, watching as they had done for eternity. The sky was a pale butter-yellow and orange glow which illuminated the new world.

‘Throughout the island were scattered numerous large pink conch shells that had once housed a prehistoric race of beings. Although the land was obviously deserted, there were signs that a battle had taken place and the unmistakable knot of fear was still audible in the ether. The rank smell of fear bled into the turquoise waters of the ocean, and the original Elders surmised that the Sea Hags, notorious in the Heztarra Galaxy for their envy of land dwellers, had dragged the previous inhabitants of the island into the waters.

‘Dolphins were plentiful in the turquoise ocean and leapt joyously, as if welcoming the Webx. But the only animal life in the lush terrain were the meerwogs, which snarled ferociously at the Webx, terrified by the sight of the 500-foot-high Elders. The meerwogs soon gave way to the intruders and vanished into the thick vegetation, ignored by the Webx who were now staring open-mouthed at a wondrous phenomenon on the sandy shore. They should have observed it as they walked on the waves toward the island, but somehow it had been missed. All rational thought left the Webx Elders as they gazed upon the sparkling black crystal which was silhouetted against the yellow sky and the corn sand. It reflected multiple images of the tropical paradise in its being. It was dominant, breathtakingly beautiful in its pristine, ebony simplicity and elegance . . . Eom.

‘As the Webx gazed upon its startling beauty, the Eom blew its sacred breath over them. Without a word of communication, the silence hinted to the Webx of the glories contained within the crystal. Eom could make them flesh, make them blood. Even as they looked on in stunned disbelief, the Eom formed veins along their rosewood-coloured arms. A spiral dance of silent communication now revealed to the awestruck Webx the unfulfilled power within themselves. The Eom was their light-filled seductress. The silence now promised the ability to channel thunder and lightning, to seed life from sand and raise the dead. In the Eom’s highly polished surfaces the Webx saw themselves mirrored, along with all their dreams and fears, their lusts and hopes. The silence whispered sensuously that they were accepted. There was no judgment from the crystal, only an aching, pure need for its energy to be channelled.

‘As time passed a race of insects magically appeared and a flower species died out. The hopes of the Mother Race, which waited for contact millions of miles away in the Heztarra Galaxy, were all in vain, for no communication was ever sent. With each successive seeding on Zeglanada the Webx race, although no longer growing as tall as their ancestors, increased greatly in power. They mastered the elements of earth, air and water magic. The original Elders had long passed on, seeding themselves deeply into the rich soil as was the Webx way, but their shootlings Tanzen and Rozen inherited the Elder titles and worked in secret close communion with the Eom. The Sea Hags left the new land dwellers alone. No Webx ever pondered overlong the mystery of the original indigenous race that had once enjoyed the same tropical bounty that had befallen them.

‘The meerwogs gradually accepted the Webx and became favoured pets, repaying the friendship of these giant-like gentle beings, whose bodies smelt of pine, vetiver, cedarwood and cypress. Life became a pleasurable and sensual routine, a daily worship of soil, sky and air. Growing complacent under the warmth of their adopted sun, the Webx believed their idyllic lives would continue in this fashion forever. Then Gwyndion was sap-spawned, and, in the early stages of his flowering, the Azephim came.

‘Eom was Gwyndion’s original memory. The soothing clicking that emanated from the crystal’s core lulled and comforted the new shoot with his feet firmly planted in the nutritious Zeglanada soil. Gwyndion watched with slanted green eyes the moon rise and set over his people. His existence began and ended with the clicking and soothing, clicking and soothing of the Eom. When his arms and legs began to sprout and his brain flowered and blossomed, Gwyndion began to fully realise the importance of the Eom to his people. Yet the seedling, still barely sap-spawned, regarded the Eom with a disturbing combination of spiritual reverence and a contradictory feeling of dread. When his Bowz would dig him gently up from his soil and take him to the nightly ritual in the Eom’s immediate presence for the moonrise worship, Gwyndion never failed to feel, despite the purification of the sandalwood rites, a feeling of great evil and despair. Miserably the young shoot would endure the rite under the penetrating omnipresence of the crystal, but he was always relieved to be placed gently back into the nourishing soil where he could stretch out his root legs and lose himself in blissful oblivion. But even in his dreaming, Gwyndion could not escape the shared vision that passed through the collective Webx when the tribe received a visual impression of the Eom floating in a steel-grey ocean, engulfed in ice. The white icebergs and petrified cliffs of the frozen world that embraced the crystal added dramatic emphasis to the Eom’s ebony beauty. It was generally agreed in an earnest series of root communications that the Eom’s origins lay in this pristine and sterile ice-world. The communication was greatly celebrated among the Webx and many libations were spilt upon the earth before the Eom to acknowledge and honour its gift. ‘Now, at last!’ the Webx Elders thundered in voices that cracked lightning against the corn-peach sky. ‘Now we are closer to understanding Eom power!’

‘It was Gwyndion and Gwyndion alone who shivered miserably and pushed his roots deeper into the soil to escape the full brunt of the celebrations. It was Gwyndion alone who reflected miserably that this vision the tribe had shared could have been interpreted differently.

‘As soon as Tanzen and Rozen had agreed it was time Gwyndion was soil-weaned the young Webx’s days began to be filled with lessons. Gone were the idyllic days of basking under the warm sun while his feet explored the sensual, delicious soil. Now his days were filled with lessons of rock-splitting, using telepathy, communicating via his golden root cap in the earth with the other Webx, and mastering the difficult language of the Tongue of All Worlds. There were shape-shifting lessons, where he learned to assume the form of a dragon, a Bluite or even a pebble in a blink of an eyelid. There were lessons of personal power, and how to hoard that power in the seat of his belly for use in times of need. Lessons of healing, of channelling the one source so his hands could seize fever and raise the dead.

‘Gwyndion was a diligent student and mastered his lessons quickly, impressing his Bowz with the speed that he completed his solar ray energy lessons. He proved to a proud Tanzen and Rozen that he could easily rearrange atoms of the solar rays and would be able to provide nutrients for himself under all conditions. But despite their pride in their apprentice, his Bowz harboured doubts regarding Gwyndion’s character. His singular detachment regarding the Eom had not gone unnoticed by the Webx Elders, and then there was the matter of his hair! The Webx people sported long, dark, brown-green hair; the colour of earth, of leaves, of the natural elements. In startling contrast, Gwyndion sported silver-white hair, which made them suspect he was a throwback to some ancient race, though neither Elder could trace which, despite extensive root-communication. They decided to monitor him closely, and thus Gwyndion was subjected to continuous and zealous tracking of his every movement.

‘His Bowz only became truly alarmed, however, the day Gwyndion announced to his disbelieving tribe that he wanted to study and master the element of fire. Whispers began to circulate from Webx to Webx of the foolhardy shootling, barely sap-spawned, who dared to attempt to master the dangerous fourth element! It was rumoured that the moment was recorded in the
Tremite Book of Life.
No Webx in known history had ever elected to study fire — it was considered unsafe for their race.

‘Surrounded by the awe and disbelief of his peers and betters, Gwyndion mastered the fire lessons as easily as he had grasped his previous lessons. His Bowz insisted he practise on the more secluded easterly beaches of the island so that the other Webx would not be overwhelmed by the sight of a shootling who could transmute his physical form into fire and back to Webx with only a slight singeing around his leafy silver-white hair as proof that the transmutation had occurred. Here on the beaches Gwyndion practised fire mastery for countless moonrises with only his devoted meerwog Samma and the mocking Sea Hags to witness his skill. Rumours flew in furtive root-communications that Gwyndion must bear other sap in his veins. Some went so far as to suggest that Gwyndion might have been seeded from some other tribe. At times the young shootling would sense Tanzen looking at him in fearful speculation, but, engrossed as he was in his daily chores of lessons, he shrugged off his Bowz’s worries.

‘Although sired to the privileged position of the Elders’ shootling, Gwyndion often longed for Webx friends. His silver-blond hair, his fire mastery and his proximity to the Elders Rozen and Tanzen set him apart from his peers. Over time, he grew content with his own company and would wander happily for hours exploring the forests and beaches of Zeglanada, his ever-present meerwog, Samma, at his side.’