Scenting Hallowed Blood (10 page)

She came up behind him.
‘Del!’

For a moment, he made no
movement and then turned his head slowly towards her, fixing her
with his wide, green eyes. ‘Hello, Tamara.’ Sometimes, it sounded
as if words of the human language came with difficulty to his
lips.

She squatted down beside him.
‘Will you come with me to the sacred cave?’ She knew there was no
point in trying to explain to Delmar what she wanted from him.
Neither did she have to ask for his silence. He spoke only when
spoken to, and would offer no information voluntarily to the other
Pelleth.

The boy looked at her steadily,
then said, ‘All right.’

They went there in silence, for
Delmar was not a person who could make light conversation. As the
tide was out, they walked across the sands, climbing over rocks
when necessary to reach the further coves. Tamara kept close to the
cliff as they approached the Penhaligon beach. Far across the bay,
miles distant, she could see the long chimneys of High Crag rearing
against the clear sky. Soon, she would creep to their private cove,
but first certain preparations had to be made.

Delmar ran into the cave ahead
of her, as if returning to a home he loved and had missed. He
jumped up onto the giant’s chair and squatted there, grinning.
Tamara smiled at him. The light was very dim, as no candles or
lanterns were lit. The stone chair gleamed dark and wet in the
gloom and the air was cold and damp against the skin. ‘Come,
Delmar.’ Tamara beckoned the boy towards the scrying pool, which
appeared like a puddle of black ink in the darkness beyond the
chair. Delmar hunkered down on the lip of the pool and reached down
with his thin hands to scoop up the water and throw it over his
face. He was like a mer-boy, yearning for the touch of the sea.

Tamara settled herself down
opposite him, and gestured at the pool. ‘Scry for me, Del. Look for
the Fallen One and the lady associated with him.’

Delmar scratched his head and
then leaned right out over the pool, extending his neck like a
snake or a cat. The ends of his hair dipped into the water, causing
delicate ripples to spiral out. Tamara could scry herself, but she
knew Delmar’s unfettered psyche could probably achieve far more in
a much shorter time. Also, she knew she needed more specific
information about Shemyaza’s woman. Being female, and too drawn to
Shemyaza, she could not get close to the female image at the
scrying pool.

As he stared at the water,
Delmar became still, his whole body concentrating on what might
come through to him. Tamara did not bother to focus on the pool;
she watched the boy.

‘He is very handsome,’ Delmar
said at last.

‘Yes,’ Tamara agreed. ‘What’s
he doing?’

‘He’s just sitting on a bed in
a horrible room. He’s not doing much at all. He’s sad. He’s very
sad.’ Delmar frowned in empathy.

‘Look into him, Del,’ Tamara
instructed. ‘Find the woman inside him. Tell me her name.’

Delmar concentrated for a full
two minutes without speaking, which seemed like an age to Tamara.
Eventually, he said, ‘Ishtahar.’

‘Good.’ Tamara was satisfied.
Barbelo had already mentioned this name and explained that Ishtahar
would be important in their plans, but Tamara had wanted to make
sure she was telling the truth. The name Ishtahar was not totally
unknown to her. The Pelleth called her Ishtara, or Isatar, but
basically, she was the original temptress, who had lured Shemyaza
away from his people, thereby instigating the Fall from grace.
However, she had never figured greatly in the lore of the Pelleth.
Had they made a mistake in under-estimating her significance now?
‘Can you see her face?’ Tamara asked.

Delmar turned his head from
side to side, inquisitively, like a monkey. ‘Yes. She’s pulled back
her veil to me. It’s made of gold disks. I can see a big eye
painted upon her belly.’

Tamara was pleased. This meant
Delmar could visualise Ishtahar with ease, and thereby expedite her
work. She reached out to touch his face. ‘Thank you, Del. Now, I
want you to do something more for me.’

He nodded. ‘OK.’

‘Meet me tonight, at seven
o’clock by the crossroads on the Hill Road. Will you remember that?
I’ll pick you up in my car.’

Delmar nodded again, although
Tamara could see he was slightly perplexed by her request.
Normally, the Pelleth would only bring him to the sacred cave.

‘There’s something I need you
to help me with. It’s very important, but you mustn’t tell anyone
about it. Not even Agatha. Do you understand?’

Again, a sombre and uncertain
nod.

Tamara ran her hand through his
hair. ‘Don’t worry, Del. I’m not asking you to do anything bad.
We’ll be helping Meggie and the others. It’s going to be a surprise
for them. That’s why it’s a secret.’

His face brightened a little.
‘All right. Seven o’clock.’

Tamara spent a full hour
preparing herself for the ritual to come. She bathed herself in
salt water, and daubed her body with protective oil. In her
bedroom, she picked up from her dressing table the talisman Barbelo
had given her and ran her fingers over the worn, carved contours of
the double snakes. At first, the lively vibrations emanating from
the talisman were almost unbearable to her, but she forced herself
to hold onto it. After a few minutes, the furious, writhing energy
that crawled like electricity up her arms abated to nothing more
than a slight tingling sensation in her fingers. Barbelo had told
her that the talisman was incredibly ancient, and had been
fashioned by a member of a priesthood known as the Magians, who had
been exiled from ancient Persia. The rites that the Magians had
developed to enable them to use the earth energy, or serpent power,
was now called magic; the word itself derived from their name. The
double snake was their symbol. They had called it the Shamir, and
it represented the duality of the serpent power: black magic, white
magic, good, evil, truth and lies. The potential for both existed
within the reach of humanity’s will and life force. Tamara knew
that Barbelo’s people had been utilising this natural life force
for millennia, and now a great source of that force lay slumbering
within the earth, ready to be reawakened. Tamara gazed at the
talisman, wondering whether it would make magic for her. She
breathed deeply and felt the stone in her hands respond, grow hot.
She began to visualise a white light seeping out of it, which rose
like a veil towards her face and around her body. She wanted to
create a caul of invisibility around herself, so that she wouldn’t
be observed about her work by those with the sight to see. The
misty breath of the talisman enveloped her body and aura with its
subtle vibration. She could feel its effect, almost as if her body
had become lighter and insubstantial. It was almost too easy. How
fortunate she was to have access to Grigori magic.

‘Now, great Shamir,’ she said
aloud, using the Grigori name for the serpent power that Barbelo
had taught her. ‘Tell me what I must do to chain a maiden.’

Images flowed into her mind.
She saw her Hopi shaman, at the time when he had taught her how to
create kachini spirits, which the Pelleth called thought-forms.

She saw the shaman’s dextrous
fingers creating totems, winding coloured thread around tiny wooden
stakes. Before him, on a mat upon the ground, lay a scattering of
feathers and brightly-coloured beads. Once these were added to the
totem, he would paint primitive features upon it. Then he would say
to the girl, Tamara, ‘Now child, breathe upon it, give it life. It
is easy for you. You are a woman, and women have the gift of
creating life. Come on, now. Create me a spirit.’ And she had done
as he’d instructed, yearning for the approval in his old eyes.

Snapped back to the present
moment, Tamara thought,
Yes, a totem, but of what?

The image of the tattooed eye
upon Ishtahar’s belly flashed strongly within her mind. As she
concentrated upon it, the eye gradually transformed into the shape
of a large cowry shell, with the thunder of the sea roaring
secretly within it. The cowry shell was an ancient symbol of the
Watchers’ eyes. It was perfect.

Tamara lifted the talisman up
before her face. ‘Shamir, I thank you for these images.’ She
smiled. ‘And did you know that I happen to have just such a shell
in my possession?’

Once she was ready to leave the
cottage, Tamara summoned the flame of her inner strength to glow
brightly within her, then, using the talisman, folded herself
within the caul of invisibility, as she’d practised earlier.

The clear day had been eclipsed
by a cold, rainy evening. Wind turned the lances of the rain to
blades. Tamara dressed herself in a dark robe, over which she threw
a heavy, winter coat with a hood. She did not want to use light or
incense, which might attract attention, but put handfuls of certain
herbs into a leather pouch. There was camomile, rosemary and agnus
castus, which were the plants associated with the female form, love
and gentle strength. Then, there was henbane and mandrake to create
the dusky, sexual power required to attract her golden prince;
blackberry for the dark sweetness of her essence; rowan to create
the illusion of a seeress and finally black ash, the plant of the
water serpent. These ingredients she secreted, along with the cowry
shell, into the deep pocket of her coat.

Just before she was about to
leave her cottage, the phone rang. Tamara stared at it for a
moment, wondering whether to leave it ringing. Then she picked it
up. Her flesh prickled with cold when she heard Meggie Penhaligon’s
voice at the other end of the line, although she forced her voice
to remain cheerful and friendly. Meggie had rung to arrange a
meeting of the Conclave for the following evening. It had to be
coincidence she had called at this time, although Tamara did not
underestimate the older woman’s abilities, which was why she’d
taken so many precautions in veiling her intentions.

Finally, she managed to end the
conversation and dash out through the rain to her car. She would be
a few minutes late for Delmar now, and hoped he hadn’t wandered
off, thinking she wasn’t coming.

Her headlights picked him up at
the cross-roads. He wasn’t wearing a coat and was already soaked to
the skin, but then cold and wet never seemed to bother Delmar.
Tamara leaned over and opened the passenger’s door. ‘Get in.’

Delmar slithered into the seat
like something that had crawled up off the beach. He shook his hair
and sprayed her with freezing droplets.

They drove along the coast
road, following the curve of several coves. The road ran close to
the cliff edge here, and occasionally, there were lay-bys where
tourists could pause to take in the sights or eat picnics. Tamara
swung her car onto one of these and turned off the engine. A few
hundred yards up the road, the imposing bulk of High Crag was
visible above the boundary walls of its grounds. Lights could be
seen in many of the upper windows. It looked almost as if a party
was going on. Tamara was fascinated by the house and its occupants.
Did Barbelo live there? The woman had not deigned to reveal that
information to her, but now Tamara wondered whether Barbelo was
standing at one of the lit windows, her sharp sight focused upon
them. Delmar stared at the house, as a rabbit, frozen in the road,
might stare at the headlights of an approaching lorry. Tamara
didn’t bother to comment on his obvious unease. If there were
problems to come, she would deal with them when they occurred. She
leaned across in front of the boy and removed a powerful torch from
the glove compartment. ‘Come on, Del. Let’s get going.’

She managed to coax him out of
the car, so she could lock its doors. The climb down to the beach
would be tortuous, but she trusted that Seference would help them
find a way. Delmar was sacrosanct: the elements and the land would
not harm him until the time came when, with due ceremony, he would
be given to them for eternity. The boy paused at the cliff edge,
and Tamara could see he was shivering.

‘We must not go here,’ he said.
‘It is forbidden.’

Tamara shone her torch along
the edge of the cliff. She knew there were a few narrow tracks that
led down to the beach around here. ‘Don’t worry about it, Del.
We’ll be safe. It’s important we do this.’ She took his arm, and
reluctantly he allowed her to lead him.

Once negotiating the cliff,
some of Delmar’s apprehension seemed to evaporate. He clambered
down and across, leaping and scrambling, reaching back to assist
Tamara over the trickiest areas. They came across dilapidated
wooden signs that read: ‘Private’ and ‘No Trespassing’. This was
Grigori land, and guardians had been placed around the cliff path
to deter sightseers and those who might deliberately seek access to
their domain. The guardians might toss any persistent interlopers
off the cliff, although Tamara had no fear they would alert their
Grigori masters. Barbelo had told her the serpent talisman would
easily control the guardians. They would believe that Tamara and
Delmar had a right to be at the cove. Thinking of this, and not
totally confident it would work, Tamara withdrew the talisman from
her pocket. She must be strong and have faith in her Grigori
friend. Almost at the same time, Delmar uttered a frightened yelp
and crouched down on the path ahead of her. Tamara shuddered; a
vague form was taking shape before her eyes. To untrained eyes, it
would be invisible, but to psychics and those who had learned how
to see beyond reality, its presence seemed very real indeed. As it
solidified, she could see it was a lizard creature, disturbingly
human in appearance. Its eyes glowed red and its black-clawed,
delicate hands gripped the slick serpentine of the cliff-face.
Tamara held out the talisman, and uttered an incantation. The
guardian hissed at her and made a sudden movement, as if about to
pounce forward. Tamara cringed, but held her ground. Delmar
scuttled back to her and hid his head in her robes, whining.
Firmly, Tamara repeated the incantation and took a few steps
forward, pushing Delmar ahead of her. The boy cried out in fear,
but she ignored him and even kicked him to get him to move. Another
lizard form dropped down from the cliff behind her. She could feel
the heat of its steaming breath on her back, through her robe and
coat. Only her faith in Barbelo’s magic could protect her now. The
guardian ahead of her put its head on one side inquisitively, one
eye trained on the talisman in her outstretched hand. Tamara felt
something tug at her robe and wheeled round, finding herself face
to face with a lizard-man who was over eight feel tall. It raised a
ruff of spines and scaly skin, hissed at her, and put out its long
black tongue to lick her wrist. But it did not attempt to attack
her. Tamara forced any feeling of terror back into the depths of
her mind. If these creatures sensed she was afraid, she and Delmar
were doomed. Gradually, she pressed forward until she was up
against the first guardian. It would not move aside. Mustering all
her strength, she reached out to touch it with the talisman and
with raised ruff the creature leapt nimbly upwards to perch on a
ledge above her head. Tamara bowed respectfully. ‘I thank you for
granting us passage.’ Then she grabbed Delmar by the scruff of the
neck and virtually threw him down the path ahead of her, onto the
beach.