Council of Peacocks (13 page)

“Why has a full flock been called?” he
asked.

“I called the flock because I have a concern
about the agent from away.” Propates believed this deep tenor voice
belonged to Lucius. It was difficult to distinguish individuals in
the Vulture Antechamber. The magics and the acoustics here turned
each voice into a stronger, stranger version of itself.

“This is not news,” Propates answered. “We
all have concerns, but the coming war means we must accept strange
allies. I’m much more concerned with the loyalty of the Orpheans
than this Defksquar. The demons are called demons for a
reason.”

“But they are
our
demons,” another
voice said. “They come from our planet’s evolutionary cycle, unlike
the other one. Defksquar is moving behind our backs.”

“Again, this is not news,” Propates felt the
heat of anger rise in him. “We’ve known for twenty years he wasn’t
going to give us the full story about why he was helping us. And
we’ve known for five months now he was outright lying about some
things. But he is not lying about what’s coming. Our oracles have
confirmed it. So have the demons. If we are to survive this
war…”

“Of course we’ll survive it,” a third voice
said. “It’s just a question of who we kneel to. Some of us have
concerns that the agent from away wants us to kneel to him.”

“We kneel to no one but Argus.” This came
from a truly familiar voice. This one was definitely Otto.

“Exactly,” Propates said with a smile. “And
if we stay on this path that is where we will continue to kneel. As
for Wisdom, I made it known long ago that he should have been
informed about the coming war. I was outvoted. You all believed
Wisdom’s father that doing so would be disastrous. Like an idiot, I
let you all keep him out of the loop. If we had his help, maybe we
wouldn’t need the agent from away.”

“The agent from away has given us
technologies and magics completely unlike anything on Earth.” This
voice, with its overriding tone of arrogance and assumption, was
the one who had called him earlier. “Without his help we would
never have perfected the process of Eyeness. Nor would we have the
knowhow to design the weapons the demons are building for the
coming war. What would Wisdom have given us?”

Propates fought the urge to rise and backhand
the man. “He could have given us an army of immortals, demigods
like me. Beings who could survive the yet imperfect process of
Eyeness. We wouldn’t need alien technologies. And we wouldn’t have
had to give over our children to the demons.”

“Our children, not yours.”

For a moment, the tension was nearly
strangling. Some of those chanting in the corners stumbled over
their incantations. Now Propates did rise. He moved to the center
of the dais and raised a hand. The darkness dissipated and, in an
instant, the underground chamber was filled with a bright, warm
light. Sunlight. He pushed his cowl away from his face and turned
toward the owner of the arrogant voice.

“Enough. Your petty power games have made you
forget yourself. You are not my equal. So you sold your firstborns
for a cause. So what? You all know what I went through. I lived in
the Black Sea! I dwelt with demonic forces you can’t even
comprehend. I was found, saved by the spirit of Argus himself. When
I returned to Earth hundreds of years ago, I was able to rebuild
his church. The reborn Argusites. The Council of Peacocks. Perhaps
you’re thinking that I’ve led too long?”

None answered him.

“Your silence speaks for itself.”

“Only some of us question,” Otto said. “I am
not one of them. My loyalty is to you.”

“Some of us do have questions.” This was
Lucius. The magic that masked voices was gone now, but the bravado
did not disappear with anonymity. “You’re part of the old régime.
Like Wisdom. The Djinnistani informed us the timeline has
changed.”

Propates moved quickly. He gathered the
shadows around him, solidified them and constructed a spear. He
slammed the butt of the weapon of darkness against Lucius' chest
and knocked him to the ground. “You’ve spoken with Wisdom’s father,
have you? And you believed him? You doubt an alien but you believe
a creature like that? By all my eyes, Lucius, you have just proven
to me that you are too stupid to live. I banish you.”

“No, Propates!” Otto stood and removed his
cowl. “This is forbidden. The laws…”

“The laws?” Propates clenched his fists and
the light of the room wavered. “I wrote the laws! And this
insignificant termite is trying to eat away at everything I’ve
built. Living in the shadows was good for my character. Maybe it
will be good for his.”

With a mental command, Propates called upon
the darkness, a crepuscular world of death populated not by the
demons or Edimmu, but by ghosts and fear. Long ago, this world had
reached out to him, captured him and perverted what was left of his
humanity. Ever since Argus had freed him from the land of the
shades, Propates had become their master. The things in the shadows
now obeyed him. The artificial sunlight quickly faded. In its place
was a sooty gloom beyond night. This was more than the absence of
light or the vacuum of space. It was the antithesis of life. Within
the darkness, unseen by any but Propates, the denizens that haunted
the netherworld moved. Little more than centers of gravity, they
circled around Lucius, not placated by his screams of raging. Then
rage gave way to pain as unseen hands tore at him and dragged him
away. In a matter of seconds, the shadows retreated and all trace
of Lucius was gone.

The Vulture Antechamber was silent. All
chanters, Edimmu and human, stared at Propates in awe. Terror.
‘
Good
,’ he thought. ‘
That reminded them
.’

From behind one of the vulture statues,
someone, something, cleared its voice and said: “Sorry to
interrupt, pets. We could come back later if you prefer.”

Propates ran a hand through his hair, took a
deep breath and relaxed his powers. He slipped the cowl back over
his head and, on cue, the incantations began again. This, in turn,
recalled the magic of the place.

The Vulture Antechamber had been used for
over a thousand years to contact other realms of reality. At first,
the Edimmu had used it as a form of telecommunication, talking with
encampments of their people in the underground cities of Kazakhstan
and the subterranean country of tunnels and cities beneath South
America. Then Propates, as head of the Council of Peacocks, used
its energies to commune with the peacock-god Argus and the undead
creatures of the gloom. Repeated dimensional warping here had
weakened the boundaries of normal space. It allowed the agent from
away to contact the Council. It also let these two beings,
outcasts, stand and breathe in a world that should have been closed
to them. These were the Orpheans, demons to most, partners to the
Council of Peacocks.

“Why are you here, Sanchez?” Propates spoke
to a hazy blur to the left of the statute. In this world, the
Orpheans had no solid form. They were ghosts. Phantoms. The one he
talked to was short and rotund. The figure beside the first one was
taller and much more slender. Her name was Carla and, unlike
Sanchez, she scared Propates just a little. There was a spark in
her eyes that spoke of a long, burning rage.

“Are we unwelcomed?” Carla’s voice was just
as thin and strained as Sanchez’s, as if they were shouting from
somewhere far away.

“Of course not,” Propates said with
conviction. “Our allies are always welcome here. Did you need
bodies to possess?”

“No,” Carla spoke quickly and looked down at
Sanchez with an expression that told him the subject was not up for
debate. “We cannot stay long. We will find bodies elsewhere soon
enough. We bring word from our Lord Ahriman. He confirms what the
Djinnistani told us. Wisdom has been traveling in time. The ripples
are faint, well-hidden, but, once Ahriman knew what to look for,
they were easy to see.”

“Has he changed anything?” Propates was glad
his face was covered. It allowed him to conceal the loss of blood
to his face.

Carla and Sanchez exchanged a slow,
meaningful look. Then Sanchez spoke. “He has changed much, but
nothing of consequence to our plans. He still does not know what is
coming and, in the end, his father will take him away. We must
focus instead on our own concerns. Our children must be gathered.
Initiated. The time of the Activation approaches.”

Then the Orpheans were gone. In a wink, the
hazy figures faded from view, leaving only natural darkness. For a
moment Propates kept his silence as everyone in the room reflected
on the warning.

“I suggest you all remember their words,” he
said. “Our world is in jeopardy. Everything we hold dear is in
danger of being ripped away from us. We do not have time for
in-fighting. I will waste no more time on it. I strongly suggest
you do the same. And as for the agent from away, we’ve been in bed
with him for too long to start wondering now if he’s diseased. Our
path is set, for good or bad. The Activation is coming.”

Chapter Ten

The classroom was larger than David expected.
It was the size of a small banquet hall and, for the most part,
empty. When he stepped through the door, the first thing he noticed
was a long oak desk at the head of the room. Three stacks of files
were piled neatly upon one corner while the rest of the desk
remained empty.

The second thing he noticed was the big-boned
woman by the windows. She looked out over the city as she ruminated
on her lower lip. Her left arm was in a cast and sling. Taking in
the rest of the room, David saw three rows of reclining chairs, all
black leather and surgical steel. Each chair was five feet away
from the others, spacing them out over the width of the classroom.
They faced a chalkboard that took up the majority of the wall
opposite the windows. There was nothing else in the room.

Amy, Barbie in hand, sauntered in with
Jessica. Jared gave up pounding his head against the wall long
enough to take a seat. Garnet did not show up. David assumed she
must be in another group. He waited until everyone else was seated
before selecting a chair. He chose the one furthest away from the
other students.

“How is your arm, Ms. Ryerson?” Jared asked.
When he spoke, there was a dangerous glint in his eye. To David, he
looked more like a boy with a magnifying glass over an anthill than
a student asking a teacher about her injury.

“It’s still broken,” she answered. She moved
away from the window and David inhaled sharply. The right side of
her head was covered with a large white bandage. Her neck and
cheeks were red and raw with visible burn marks. Her eyes ran over
Jared then settled on David.

“I am Ms. Amelia Ryerson,” she said. “As
you’ve probably been told, I teach a few things here you don’t
learn in a normal classroom. So let’s set some ground rules right
now.”

She took a deep breath and suddenly looked
back out the windows. Her expression, like looking back on a lover
she was forced to walk away from, made it very clear she wanted to
be somewhere else. Lips pursed, she looked at the ground and then
began to speak again.

“This is not high school, so there is no
acting like children. I have no time for it, and after yesterday it
seems like none of us do. I need to also point out that I am
nothing like you.” Her good arm fell free and she paced back and
forth in front of the chalkboard. “Jessica, will you please explain
to the verbose Mr. Ross what exactly you are?”

The young girl opened her mouth to respond,
stopped for a moment and then looked to Ms. Ryerson. They stared at
each other for a heartbeat before Ms. Ryerson responded.

“Oh, for God’s sake, child, give him the
simple version for now. I can’t believe you had to ask that. Now go
on.”

Jessica’s face went slightly red at the word
‘child’, but she turned in her seat to face David anyway. “All of
us were born with certain abilities that are anomalous in humans.
We call these abilities EFHB, which stands for Extraordinary
Functions of the Human Body. EFHB, a term first used by Chinese
scientists, is used here to distinguish what we can do from the
stigma attached to words like ‘paranormal’ and ‘psychic.’ Almost
everyone has some degree of psychic powers. They experience moments
of déjà vu or brief telepathic contact with their loved ones.
That’s normal. It differs from person to person, kind of like the
propensity toward sports and puzzle solving. Some people are
stronger than others. What we do is very different. That’s why we
are called Anomalies. We are outside the realm of normalcy.”

Jared squirmed in his seat. “Can we talk
about my re-test?” He focused on cleaning his fingernails as he
spoke. David realized that Jared barely looked at Ms. Ryerson and,
when he did, the look was one of contempt. He wondered just how Ms.
Ryerson had gotten that broken arm.

“No, Jared,” Ms. Ryerson answered. “At this
point in time I’m not sure there will be any re-tests. Wisdom wants
me to ensure you’re ready for more concrete scenarios, so I’m going
to have to skip fairly quickly through a few lessons. Now, each of
you lean back in your chairs. Go on, get comfortable. David, I
would appreciate it if you would stop clawing at the furniture. You
may be a freak of nature but, nerves aside, you are not a cat. The
first thing we learn is how you can access your abilities at will.
I am going to teach you some concentration exercises before we move
on to the big stuff. What is the first step in relaxation?
Anyone?”

Bethany opened her mouth to answer. Then her
face went lax.

She looked around her, as if searching the
corners of the room for something.

“Bethany, what …?”

“Hush, Toddie. Do you hear that?”