The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy) (55 page)

First on my list of people to thank for this book are my readers. Due to illness, the release of this book was delayed a year. I hope
The Dragon Queens
will prove worth the wait, and thanks so much for your patience.

My family, friends and work associates put in a lot of overtime to help me complete this book. I cannot thank everyone enough for their support and understanding—and that goes for all my message board posters and Trazling citizens too: I couldn’t have done this without you all.

A special thanks to Ann-Marie for helping me with the Amenti research, and to Chez for reading this manuscript so many times and giving me good, honest feedback every time.

My deepest gratitude to Sue for aiding me through the longest and most arduous edit I have ever undergone!

All my love and hugs to Sarah, John and David, who endured all alongside me and brought me back to health and happiness.

Turn the page
for a sneak preview of

THE BLACK MADONNA

BOOK THREE:
THE MYSTIQUE TRILOGY

the final chapter in this fabulous story.

Time has no meaning for me any more. I have been backwards and forwards through history so often that past and future have melded into an allconsuming
now
.

The timelines of the physical world are precarious and liable to change at the slightest provocation. We, the Staff of Amenti—designers of Earth’s evolutionary scheme—knew this before we agreed to take part in the Amenti Project. What we did not anticipate was this: that our antagonists here on Earth would devise their own means to move through time and alter history.

Hence, the Staff of Amenti have become humanity’s mercenaries in the resulting inter-time war. Ancient time zones, and those in the distant future, are no longer accessible to us or our adversaries, as time is collapsing from both the alpha and omega ends of its flimsy existence.

A crisis point will be reached at midnight on 21
^st
December of this year, 2017—the moment of judgment that psychics and prophets have been predicting for eons. For the majority of people
living on this planet, it will pass unnoticed. It will not be marked by fire and brimstone falling from the sky, or plagues, or the hand of God crushing us all from on high—all that
will come
, but later.

That moment is humanity’s last chance to open the gateway home to the multi-dimensional universe from which we originally came and were so unfairly torn. The fate of all rests upon the vibrational frequency of humanity’s combined consciousness at this time, and despite our ignorance, we will be judged.

Our earth is dying. It is being murdered by the hidden enemies of humanity who hope to enslave us. All they have to do is keep us preoccupied, greedy and self-obsessed, until the current Stellar Activation Cycle ends. This Stellar Activation Cycle (SAC), which began on 21
^st
December, 2012—the end of the Mayan calendar—is when Earth aligns with its higher planetary bodies in the harmonic universes and the Star Gates to these universes open. It is an ascension event that only happens for five years in every twenty-five thousand. If we do not succeed in opening the Halls of Amenti then our last chance to escape this dying planet will be lost. All life on Earth—including those of us who volunteered to beguardians of this project—shall perish.

With only eight months remaining, the Staff of Amenti have several concerns, but none so pressing as the full reactivation of all twelve stations in Earth’s Signet Grid. It is hoped that our combined energy and inspiration will be enough to raise planetary consciousness to a level where Earth might again host the Sphere of Amenti.

All but one of the fourteen soul-minds of
Amenti’s staff are now fully aware of their objectives here on Earth and have now taken up their positions on the Amenti project. Naturally our missing staff member is another grave concern. For without all fourteen members of our team, there shall be no going home for any of us.

The thirteen souls with whom I share my destiny have been my dearest friends, my family, my lovers and children throughout every major incarnation I have lived through in Earth’s evolutionary scheme. Since taking up my position on the Staff of Amenti I have been telepathically linked to the other six females on the Staff, who are known in legend as the Dragon Queens.

It is no accident that I am the sixth and last of the Dragon Queens to have been born, or that it has fallen to me to compile and record our secret history. For I am the key-holder to Signet Station Twelve, named Triogenes, which resonates with the frequency of ‘the storyteller’.

And so I set pen to paper again to record this final chapter in the history of the grail bloodline, with yet another cast of legends for future myth. Due to the constant time-hopping activities of my fellow Amenti members and myself, it shall be near impossible to form a straight timeline of events. But I will endeavour to do so with a little help from my daughter, Tamar, and my sisters, the Dragon Queens.

In cycles the legends come forth,
each with its own cast of characters,
incorporated into a work without beginning or end,
but forever perpetuating new stories.
In myth they are the keys to the creational process,
to the great mysteries of creation and humanity.

Imagination flows from the Triogenes,
not bound by space or time
to be entered as desired
by any soul-mind with the patience to listen
to the flow of creation.

For in truth,
all is myth,
myth is all.

Days later the call came from Montsègur and just as Denera had predicted, my mother and father were conscripted to join the excavation project taking place at the base of the mount. My father’s presence
was requested because of his expertise on the period that had seen the demise of the Cathars. Of course, the fact that my father had actually been there to witness the burning fields of Montsègur in the thirteenth century had a bit to do with his knowledge.

The excavation project had found a tunnel complex beneath the mountain. Its walls were covered in symbols associated with the Knights Templar, side by side with well-known emblems of the Cathars—much like those found nearby in the grottoes of the Sabarthez.

As my parents were to be living at the site, a third business-class ticket and site accommodation was provided for me—Andre Pierre had worked with my mother numerous times before and knew that I accompanied my parents everywhere. Due to Denera warning us in advance of the working engagement, our bags were already packed and twenty-four hours saw us touch down in France.

Andre Pierre met us at Toulouse airport in the project chopper.

Andre was the best excavation manager in the business, according to my mother. If he could not unearth an archeaological find intact, then no-one could.

My mother was a little troubled by the black mini-dress and heels I had decided to wear—Andre was a renowned womaniser, and the outfit made me look as if I’d just stepped off a catwalk in Milan.

‘All the easier for me to siphon information from him.’ I addressed my mother’s concerns as my parents and I made our way across the tarmac
towards the chopper. The majority of human males were easily manipulated by their desires and this was doubly true of Nefilim males.

My father pulled me up to have a quiet word. ‘This body is my daughter’s temple, so do try to be a little selective about who worships it. Please, Kali,’ he added, realising I was no longer bound to take his orders.

‘As there is only one being in this entire evolutionary scheme that I hold the slightest desire for, you need have no fear on that count.’ I gently removed his hand from my arm. ‘You must trust that I know what I am doing. No one knows the Nefilim like I do.’

I believe my father felt a little silly at having pulled me up at all. ‘In that case…go get them, sweetheart. Let me know if you need a hand at any time.’

‘I will,’ I promised, with a huge reassuring smile.

Andre removed his sunglasses when he saw me coming. ‘
Qui est?
’ He smiled, then recognised me. ‘Tamar?’ He burst out laughing. ‘Could it have been so long? I thought you were still a…’ he searched for the word, ‘
adolescent
. You look
fantastique
!’ He kissed both my cheeks and held me closer and tighter than usual.

‘Just celebrated her thirteenth birthday a couple of weeks ago,’ my father informed him, and the embrace abruptly ended.

‘How cruel life is.’ Andre turned down the charm a little, but desire was in his eyes. He greeted my father briefly before turning his affections to my mother. ‘Mia, my goddess, you look beyond
fantastique
.’ He clenched both her shoulders, kissed each of her cheeks in turn and then held her at
arm’s length to admire her. ‘I swear you look younger every time I see you.’

My parents were perpetually thirty since they had walked the Halls of Amenti thirteen years ago; thus they appeared barely older than me.

‘And you are more in need of a wife every time I see you,
mon ami
.’ Mother clenched Andre’s face between her hands, and shook it. ‘You look a mess.’ She referred to his unshaven, unkempt appearance.

My father and I had a quiet chuckle at how quickly Mother brought Andre’s amorous advances under control.

‘I’ve been down a hole for weeks,’ he said defensively, backing away to run one hand over his unpressed clothes, as he combed his shoulderlength, unwashed, mousey brown hair behind his ears.

‘You are not eating properly either.’ Mia’s mothering tone served to remind the Frenchman she was married with a child, whilst assuring him that she cared about his welfare.

‘I’ve been busy,’ he smiled. ‘You know how it is. I get distracted.’

‘It must be exciting for you to be working in France for a change?’ I began fishing for information as we waited for our baggage to be loaded on board the chopper by the ground crew. ‘Is the project funded by the French as well?’

‘This project was the brainchild of a man by the name of Labontè,’ Andre advised. ‘You may have heard of—’

‘The mining and media magnate, Morell Labontè?’ Mother queried, having never got wind of the wealthy tycoon’s interest in archaeology; goldmining was what he was known for.

‘No,’ Andre corrected, ‘his son, Killian—’

‘The thrill-seeking, socialite playboy?’ I’d read about his exploits in teen mags.

‘
En effet
,’ he confirmed. ‘He has a very keen interest in the occult and in the Holy Grail in particular.’

‘He’s chasing Otta Rahn’s theory that the Grail was hidden beneath Montsègur by the Cathars.’ Mother glanced at my father, who was amused, for he had been the knight who had helped in sneaking Montsègur’s sacred treasures from the mount.

‘The grail may not be hidden beneath the mount of Montsègur,’ Andre said, ‘but it is certainly an area where the grail legends converge and our employer is paying us to discover why.’

‘Hey, if there’s a good pay cheque in it…’ My father shrugged, playing up his scepticism.

‘Labontè’s hunches have proven excellent so far,’ Andre said, suggesting we not pass judgement until we had seen the find for ourselves.

The excavation site was rather larger than I had expected. Labontè’s team had unearthed the remains of a 13
^th
century village at the base of the mountain and re-opened a secret cave, the entrance of which had collapsed centuries ago.