Origin of the Body (15 page)

They sipped coffee and made small talk for a while, until Anita decided to put aside the niceties and jump straight in with the reason they were there.  ‘We found the cylinder,’ she said abruptly, cutting across some mundane comment Milly was making.

Helena turned her head sharply, boring into Anita’s eyes, ‘and?’ she asked, almost impatiently, ‘what was in it?’

‘We don’t yet know,’ Anita said, a warning edge in her tone.  ‘We tried to open it, but for some reason we can’t.  Also, it kicks Alexander out of the meditation whenever we try to.  We came because we wanted to see if any of you have any ideas we haven’t tried yet.’

They discussed all the things Alexander and Anita had tried to date and then quickly drew a blank.  ‘I’m not exactly an expert,’ said Helena, ‘but I’ve never heard of a cylinder resisting when someone tried to open it.’

‘Me neither,’ said Milly, intrigued.

‘Nor have I, I’m afraid,’ Draeus chipped in.  ‘It’s the kind of thing that wouldn’t be publically researched either; bit sensitive I’d say.  Maybe the kind of thing they would investigate on Cloud Mountain though.’

‘True,’ said Helena slowly, pushing aside a flashback to her last, objectionable, visit to the Spirit Leader’s mountain, ‘and Clarissa was at the Cloud Mountain when the cylinder was planted, so it would make sense that someone there may be able to help us.’  Milly nodded in agreement.

‘So what exactly goes on at this Cloud Mountain?’ asked Cleo, keenly.  Now she came to think about it, she had no idea who lived there or what they did.

‘The Cloud Mountain is home to the Spirit Leader and his or her followers,’ said Milly, matter of factly.  ‘Before the relic and prophecy were discovered, the Temples still existed, however they were run slightly differently.  Each Temple had a leader and each leader had followers, much like the Descendants and their Councillors today, however, the focus then was more on learning about the disciplines associated with each Temple, rather than the political focus that now dominates.’

‘So what happened to the Body and Mind Leaders?’ asked Cleo, enthusiastically, not waiting to see if Milly would go on by herself.

‘The Mind Leader became the Mind Descendant and the Body Leader died in a climbing accident around the same time the Descendants were named.  The Body Leader’s followers mostly became Councillors to the new Body Descendant, not seeing the point in having two separate groups of people representing Bodies.  The Spirit Leader on the other hand saw merit in maintaining a separate group, purely for the purposes of research and development.  They always kept a low profile and were so out of the way at the Cloud Mountain that this never became a large enough problem for the Descendants to be motivated to deal with it.’

‘So how exactly were the Descendants chosen?’ Cleo probed.

‘Nobody is entirely sure,’ Milly answered, ‘if it’s recorded anywhere, it’ll be in the Descandants’ private vaults.  What is public knowledge though is that around the time the relic was discovered, each of the new Descendants was separately visited by their relevant God, who told them of the prophecy and their duty to try and fulfil it.  There must have been compelling evidence to support their claims at the time, as otherwise they wouldn’t have been able to so easily and painlessly move from the old structure to the one we have today.’

‘But all of what is learned at the Cloud Mountain is never shared with anyone else?’ asked Anita, incredulous that this was a possibility.

‘There is some sharing,’ said Alexander, ‘as the Spirit Descendants have always been eager to hear about new findings from the Cloud Mountain, and a fair number of our Councillors have spent time studying there.  However, the Spirit Leader is forever wary of us, as there is always a danger we’ll try to put an end to their work, and indeed them, so there is a limit to the amount of sharing that really takes place; I’m sure the juicy stuff never makes it out of the Mountain gates.’

‘What about the work the Spirit academics do here and things we learn from the Observatory?  Do those findings get communicated back to the Cloud Mountain?’ asked Anita.

‘Yes, generally they do,’ said Draeus.  ‘Certainly the ones that become public knowledge anyway, because traders like me take knowledge of new findings into the Wild Lands and the Spirit Leader pays us for the information.  Anything kept from the public domain won’t necessarily make it out there, but they have academics on the inside, so a lot of that does too.’

‘But the academics here could have the key to something they’re working on at the Cloud Mountain, or vice versa, and they would never know,’ said Cleo.

‘Yep,’ said Alexander, but there’s too much distrust to share everything, especially at times like these.

‘And there are no Spirit academics in Empire or Kingdom who you think could help us open the cylinder?’ asked Anita, not directing the question at anyone in particular.

‘No,’ said Helena, ‘not that I know of, and even if there were Austin has spies everywhere, so the risk of him finding out what we’re doing is too great.’

‘So you think we should go to the Cloud Mountain and ask for their help?’ asked Anita, her voice flat, with no discernable emotion.

‘I would suggest as that’s where the cylinder was given to Clarissa, it’s the best option we have,’ Helena replied.

Anita read the energy of everyone round the table.  She read nothing other than affirmation, including from Alexander.  ‘Okay,’ she said, in a business like tone, ‘Alexander and I will go.  Do you think anyone else should come too?’

Helena pondered her response, surprised that Anita had agreed so easily to her suggestion, but before she could reply, Anderson jumped in.  ‘Yes, I think I should come too,’ he said, keenly.  ‘There may be something we can learn about energy transfer.’

‘And I’m happy to escort you,’ said Draeus, ‘which will also provide you with a cover story for your presence in the Wild Lands; trading trip to assess the current situation first hand.’

‘Fine,’ said Anita, ‘when do we leave?’

‘Give me a couple of days to organize everything,’ said Draeus, ‘and I’ll be in touch to let you know exactly when.  We’ll leave at night, always easiest, and you’ll need to pack clothes for both hot and cold climates.  The Cloud Mountain is about as far as you can get from civilization, so we’ll be travelling through a good number of different parts of the Wild Lands on the way.  Don’t worry about anything else, I’ll provide everything we need.’

‘Great,’ said Anita, despite herself quite excited at the prospect of an adventure into the Wild.

*****

Matthew woke in the middle of the night.  It was silent, as he’d expected, having meticulously checked the soldiers’ rota.  The majority of them would be asleep, only two guards on duty and both positioned near the house, more to keep an eye on him than for any other reason.  Matthew rolled over and shook his wife, Emily, awake, and she came to life quickly, instantly understanding that now was the time they’d been waiting for.  She quickly got dressed and without the aid of lights silently made her way to their son Henry’s room, to wake him and tell him to get dressed before making their way downstairs to meet Matthew.

They arrived downstairs to find Mathew had already retrieved the food parcel he’d hidden the previous evening, along with packs of clothes and other essential items.  He handed packs to Emily and Matthew and then headed for the back door, motioning for them to follow him.  Matthew gingerly pulled the door open a crack, praying the oil he’d applied to the hinges the previous day would prevent it from screaming out as he pulled it towards him.  His prayer was all but answered, the door making the smallest of protests before swinging willingly open.  They waited a few moments, listening intently to the noises of the night, heartbeats drumming in their ears, and when Mathew was sure there was nobody coming (thankfully the guards wore heavy boots, so their approach was always announced by weighty footsteps), they creep through the door before noiselessly closing and locking it behind them.  They slunk around the edge of the yard then passed through an open gate into a grass field, following the hedge all the way around to the far side, careful to keep in its shadow.  They entered the woods that backed onto the field, thankfully having only to cross a small ditch to do so, no hedge to hamper their escape here.  They moved quickly, the goal to get as far away from the farm before dawn as possible, taking less care to stay silent as they sped through the trees.  In fact, apart from the odd look back over their shoulders, they took no precautions to ensure they weren’t being followed at all, assuming because they hadn’t been challenged that they had got clean away.

But open challenge wasn’t always Amber’s style; tonight she’d chosen stealth instead and tracked the family through the woods along with four of her most trusted and skilled soldiers.  So Amber watched as Mathew, Emily and Henry made their way to the river.  She listened as they met up with two other families who came from two other farms Austin had commandeered.  Then she followed as they headed in the direction of the Wild Lands, filled with the most delicious sense of apprehension; where were they going and who might they lead her to?

Chapter 8

The following day Anita got up and acted as though everything was as it should be.  She started her day with yoga in the garden followed by a breakfast of homemade granola and orange juice with Cordelia, before heading to the Observatory to work.  Cordelia, never one for small talk, decided breakfast was an ideal time to probe Anita on her current relationship status, and when she heard that Marcus was no longer on the scene, for information about what exactly had happened.  Anita managed to just about dodge the questions, providing vague and flimsy responses, before deliberately diverting the conversation towards other topics, namely the weather and what Cordelia was going to make for the rapidly approaching winter festival at the Temples.

She finished her cereal and escaped the inquisition, thinking about the upcoming trip to the Wild Lands on her walk to the Observatory.  She realized that other than a few descriptions from people who had been there, she had no idea what to expect from each of the different Lands they would travel through; she didn’t even know which Land was where and what connected to what.  She decided she would hunt out a map and study it before they departed so as not to look ignorant on the trip.

She arrived at the Observatory, climbing the stairs to find Bas, Gwyn, and Patrick (Bas’ lab assistant) chatting about the winter festival and Gwyn’s role as a Descendant.  ‘I won’t be taking the main Body role this year, obviously,’ she said sweetly, lapping up the undivided attention she was receiving, ‘dad will be doing that, but I’ll still be in the procession, and I’ll be wearing a beautiful new white silk dress as well as a spectacular flower wreath I’m having made especially for my hair; it’s got loads of tiny, delicate, white flowers all round it…’

‘…morning,’ said Anita, loudly, purposefully cutting across Gwyn’s description.

‘Hi,’ said Bas and Patrick, clearly surprised to see her.

‘Haven’t seen you for a while,’ said Patrick, in his usual crass way.

Anita ignored his jibe and sat down in her normal spot before saying, ‘anything new with the energy?’

‘No,’ Bas said, shooting a sideways glance at Gwyn; he was usually careful not to discuss the energy in front of her.  ‘Nothing has changed, still on a downwards trajectory.’

‘No surprise there then,’ said Anita, turning her attention to the display in front of her.  ‘Descendants decided to do anything about the crisis yet?’ she asked, looking determinedly at the brass dials, so the question may not necessarily have been for Gwyn.

‘I…uh,’ Gwyn started.

‘That’s a no then,’ said Anita, taking no prisoners.  She didn’t know why she was being so unpleasant, it just seemed like the right thing to do seeing as Peter wouldn’t stand up to Austin and it was all because of Gwyn’s real identity.

‘Right,’ said Bas, awkwardly, feeling the need to try and ease the newly created tension.  ‘Well, I suppose we should get to work Patrick.’

Gwyn recognized this as her cue to leave, but having recovered her composure wasn’t going to let Anita get away with being so territorial.  Instead, she leaned over Bas, stroked his hair, and said in her most sickly voice, ‘will you show me what you’re working on?’  Bas looked up at her with wide eyes, like a rabbit caught in particularly bright headlights, but as Gwyn was now giving him puppy dog eyes with everything she had, it was no surprise he agreed.

‘We’re working on energy transfer,’ said Patrick, desperate for Gwyn to pay him some attention, ‘looking at how you can transfer energy from one object to another.’

‘Really?’ asked Gwyn, pretending to be fascinated as she followed Patrick to the other side of the room. 

Bas made to follow them, Anita shooting him a warning look as he went, ‘careful,’ she said under her breath, so he could barely hear her, ‘given who she is, it would be best if you were careful.’

*****

Three days later, the travelling party of Anita, Alexander, Anderson and Draeus were ready to leave.  They met at Cleo’s house before departing, Anita feeling harassed as a result of the argument she’d had with Cordelia just prior to her leaving.  Cordelia had questioned, for the hundredth time, where Anita was going and what she was doing, and Anita had, for the hundredth time, reassured her she was just going on a trading trip into the Wild Lands to see the state of the damage first hand.  She’d told her Draeus would be there to look after them and that the party was big enough to be quite safe, but Cordelia was paranoid about the reported riots and didn’t want her to go.  Anita had managed to catch herself just before blurting out that she wasn’t going to die like Jeffrey’s mother had, which would have been a tad difficult to explain.  She’d managed to extract herself eventually, reassuring her fearful grandmother that she would be very careful, wouldn’t take any risks, and would be back as soon as she could.

They departed Empire in a 4x4 energy vehicle just before midnight, having checked and rechecked all their supplies.  Draeus had brought tents, sleeping mats, stoves, pots, pans, cutlery, tin plates and mugs, torches, maps, a small amount of food (they would buy most of it out there), several rare items including spices and teas that he explained may be useful when trading along the way, and each of them had brought several changes of clothing.  They had been instructed to travel light, but equally to be prepared for all weather conditions, so they each had a range of garments suitable for conditions from the scorching deserts of Wild Sands, to the icy roads of Wild Ice, to pretty much everything in between.  Consequently they weren’t really travelling that light and Draeus had cursed at the fully packed vehicle as they’d all piled in for departure.

They drove for hours, Anita lost count of how many, stopping only when absolutely necessary, the sun high in the sky when they approached the edge of Wild Water.  It was breath-taking; enormous pools of water everywhere with streams and rivers connecting them.  There were magnificent waterfalls where spray flew up and covered them, with lush green grass everywhere the water didn’t dominate.  Draeus laughed at Anita’s reaction, ‘if you think this is good, one day you should go to the centre of Wild Water, then you’d be impressed.  This is only the very edge.’

After another few hours of driving, they approached a massive expanse of water that filled the horizon as far as the eye could see.  ‘Welcome to the Salt Sea,’ said Anderson, coming to a halt at its shore.  ‘We’re going to camp here tonight.’

‘Where are we?’ asked Anita, clearly the only one not to know.

‘We’re on the northern edge of Wild Water,’ said Alexander.  ‘The Salt Sea isn’t really a sea; it’s more of an enormous lake as it’s landlocked.  Nobody knows why it’s salty, but if you go in, you’ll float; it’s very surreal.’

‘Sounds like fun,’ said Anita, determined to have a swim before they left.

They put up the tents and lounged around for the remainder of the day, Anita and Alexander going for a swim whilst Anderson and Draeus went to a local food seller and bought fish, potatoes and some kind of green vegetable that looked a lot like cabbage.  Draeus had told them they would be avoiding trading posts on the trip, just in case someone recognized Alexander and word got back to Empire or Kingdom.  This wasn’t a problem however, Draeus had so many friends in the Wild, they could be confident they would be able to buy adequate supplies without ever having to step foot in a busy trading post.  Draeus cooked the fish over the fire with oil and lemon, boiled the potatoes in a large pot, and steamed the greens in a bamboo steamer over the top.  They ate greedily then retired to their tents before the sun had fully set; Draeus had informed them they would be leaving very early the following morning, and everyone was exhausted from the long drive.

*****

Cleo entered the archive as she had for the last ten days, descended to the second basement level and took up her usual seat near the back of the floor.  She’d chosen this spot as it was secluded, yet provided a great vantage point for seeing who was coming and going across the rest of the floor.  She was hidden for the most part by the racks of books and manuscripts that filled this section, so it looked a lot like a library and smelt like one too, however, could see out through a couple of helpfully positioned breaks in the shelves.  So far, the most excitement she’d witnessed was two young volunteers sneaking down here to make out a couple of rows over.  They’d almost been caught by the girl’s father, who, it turned out, was one of the senior categorizers, but thanks to Cleo, they’d managed to escape down a level, Cleo seizing the opportunity to aid a kindred spirit, waylaying the father by asking a pointless question.  They’d thanked her profusely later that night at The Island, trying to buy her drinks all evening, Cleo eventually pointing out this was pointless as she didn’t have to pay for her drinks there anyway.

As for the last ten days, today, Cleo was pouring over newspaper articles and any other material she could find that referenced the discovery of the relic; there was something about it that just didn’t add up and she was determined to find out what.  The bright, stark, cold lights of the archive floor were starting to get to her, not to mention the disappointing lack of discovery to date, but she persevered, today flicking through an account of the first public announcement of the prophecy.  The most interesting part was at the end where the author had recorded the questions the audience had asked afterwards; where exactly it had been discovered, why they should believe it was true, and why the Gods had chosen to hide both the relic and the prophecy for so long.  She was just coming to the end when a movement caught her eye.  Other than a brief appearance by a volunteer here and there, she was getting used to being the only person to frequent this level first thing in the morning, so was, as ever, curious to see who it was venturing in to share this soulless basement.

Cleo peered around the nearest bookcase to see a medium height man with a slight build and shoulder length, wavy, dark hair walk across the floor, heading for one of the locked doors in the back wall.  He moved in a seamless way; his stride light and graceful, limbs responding effortlessly to his every command and Cleo sat mesmerized by him, her energy more curious than anything else.  The man unlocked the door he’d stopped in front of, pausing as he turned the handle and inclining his head downwards but in her direction, smiling slightly as he pushed the door open and disappeared through it, purposefully not closing it behind him.  Cleo paused for a split second, snapping herself out of the trance he had somehow put her in, and was up on her feet and following him through the door before she’d had time to process that was what she was doing.  She stopped short as the man looked up from behind a workbench and gave her an encouraging yet questioning look, the shadow of a smile on his lips.  She said nothing, so he raised a promising eyebrow.

‘Hi,’ said Cleo, her usual confidence evading her in the face of a man with such self-assured poise.  ‘I’m Cleo,’ she paused, waiting for his answer, but he didn’t oblige, instead opting to hold her gaze with mesmerizing hazelnut eyes and waiting to see what she would do next.  ‘I’ve been working down here for days and have been dying to see what’s behind these doors,’ she said, quickly, hoping vehemently he wouldn’t throw her out.  ‘It’s all so mysterious, don’t you think?  Locked doors, secret artefacts, who knows what scandals are hidden down here, sheltered from prying eyes.’  The words came out in a rush and she half turned away, mouthing the words ‘get it together’ at the floor, before stepping forwards and turning back towards him.

The smile that had been threatening since she’d walked in finally fought its way to his lips, lighting up his face as he waited again for Cleo to make the next move.  Cleo was getting frustrated; there weren’t many people who were so comfortable with silence, or who could make her feel so awkward.  ‘So what are you working on?’ she asked, deciding to give the direct approach a go, after all, it would be rude for someone to ignore a direct question.  Unless of course he couldn’t speak, the unlikely and unhelpful thought popping uninvited into her head, making her pull a nervous expression, suddenly anxious.  She took a deep breath, clasped her hands together, banished the undesirable facial expression in favour of a neutral appearance, and forced herself not to fill in the silence.  She waited for a response, compelling herself to hold his gaze and telling herself she was both calm and composed, her body, she feared, giving her anyway none the less.

The silence was excruciating, the man taking his time to appraise her, determining who she was and what she was really doing here.  There were very few people with the privilege of being allowed to enter the room in which they were standing, indeed, there were those who would literally kill for the opportunity to stand where he had allowed her to stand.  However, he decided his initial impression had been correct; she posed no threat to him or the work he was here to do, so he decided to pursue the frivolous course, a path he had not trodden for some time.

‘These rooms are so bland, don’t you think?’ he started, taking her by surprise with both this tangent and the authority in his voice.  ‘You would have thought that a place such as this, of such importance, a place containing the secrets of our past, would have warranted some kind of design consideration.  But then, I suppose it’s safe to assume those drawn to the noble profession of categorizing and maintaining all this stuff aren’t in possession of the greatest artistic talents.’

‘Unlike yourself?’ asked Cleo, more drawn to this puzzling creature by the minute.

‘But then I suppose beauty is in the eye of the beholder, so maybe those who built this place think it is beautiful, in its own way.’