Chapter Eleven – The Senior Council

“Sister Goodman, why have you pulled me from my Dispersal?”

D’Scover stood in the middle of his office, unnaturally summoned from his rest and visibly shaken by the event. Daylight had fled and the sister was barely visible in the gloom as she stood before the painting of the Madonna.

“Sorry, Toby, it was unavoidable. The Senior Council have called an extraordinary gathering to discuss the boy and his future.” She spoke flatly and without expression. “You are summoned.”

D’Scover ran his long fingers through his hair to smooth it into place as he spoke. “You told them?” He was stunned. “Why?”

“As an Attendant, it was my duty,” she explained. “But there was more to it than that. The Council members have been aware of a problem, a disturbance in the spirit activity around the world; they have received information they wish to have confirmed. They wish to talk about the boy, and this girl you have seen.”

“I have seen an increase in reports lately,” D’Scover said, “and yes, each day at least one new report from the living agents, but, as I have said before, it is probably a transient phase and may still settle down.”

“Is that what you truly believe?”

“No.” He sighed. “In all honesty, I believe it is the opening phase of the Vision. The rested spirits are disturbed by sensing the arrival of the Sentinel.”

“The Senior Council do not share your thoughts on this matter,” she said. “They do not feel that the time is right.”

“When is the convergence of the Council to be?” D’Scover asked.

Without warning, a jagged silver bolt of lightning cut through the clear sky outside and illuminated the room with a cold white light that did not fade and, despite its luminescence, cast no shadow. A thick broil of clouds burst into the sky and enveloped the building.

“They are here.”

The walls seemed to flux and grow less solid as the clouds thickened around the building until the upper floors were entirely concealed by the thick mass. Inside the office the air prickled with static electricity that bounced from all surfaces, and a slow haze of it trickled over the two occupants. Slowly twelve shapes began to form round D’Scover in a circle: dark outlines seething with the various colours that represented the memory of the life force of their host. Deep purples and blues that were so dark as to be barely visible forced the dark shapes to take on the forms of people robed in black and heavily hooded.

D’Scover felt the weight of a sword at his side and was clothed once more in the simple, rough hessian outfit he had died in. He was a child and his cloak felt heavy with rain just as it had when he died. He flinched in pain as he took a step forward and, glancing down at his leg, could see the dark stain of fresh blood. Drawing his sword from his belt and flicking his heavy cloak behind him, he dropped to his one good knee, resting his forehead on the weapon’s icy hilt as the sharp point dug into the floor.

“My lords,” he offered without raising his gaze, as the Council members took solid form around him.

“STAND, KEEPER OF THE TEXTS.” A deep and sombre voice echoed in D’Scover’s head. As the Council addressed him, the sound seemed to come from within all of the members, as though they spoke with one and many voices at the same time. Each word was rich with a layer of voices twelve deep, a dark, resonating harmony. “AND YOU, HOLY SISTER, MAY LEAVE US.”

“But my lords,” she protested, “I may be able to offer some insight. If I could . . .”

“BEGONE!” The chilling order of the Senior Council boomed through the room.

Sister Goodman, clad in the simple black habit of the holy order she had served in life, bowed to the Senior Council and Dispersed with a crackle of bright violet sparks.

D’Scover stood and slid his sword into his belt, but kept his eyes lowered in deference.

“WHAT OF THE BOY?”

“He is not yet fully integrated into the Brotherhood, but he will make a most excellent agent.” D’Scover still kept his gaze to the floor.

“DO YOU BELIEVE THAT HE IS THE CHILD OF THE VISION?”

“I am not yet sure; he meets many of the requirements, but it is too early to say.”

“WE HAVE DECIDED HE IS TO TAKE A TRIAL.”

“No, he is not ready; you cannot . . .” D’Scover looked up at the assembled Council.

“KEEPER.” The voice cut through his thoughts and D’Scover flinched from the intense pressure of it inside his head and dropped at once to his knees.

“WE HAVE AFFORDED YOU MANY PRIVILEGES BY VIRTUE OF YOUR SKILLS AND YOUR DEVOTION TO THE BROTHERHOOD, BUT THIS IS NOT YOUR CHOICE TO MAKE. THE COUNCIL FEEL A GREAT CHANGE IS COMING AND WHILST OUR TIME IS ENDLESS, WE CANNOT RISK HUMANITY BY WAITING UNNECESSARILY. IF THIS BOY IS THE SENTINEL, HE WILL PROVE TRIUMPHANT IN A TRIAL. IF NOT, HE WILL PERISH AND THE SEARCH WILL CONTINUE. SUCH IS OUR JUDGEMENT.”

“Bound by our rules, I will, as always, obey, my lords,” D’Scover said in a voice loaded with resentment. “How much time do I have?”

“THE TRIAL IS TO BE HELD WITHIN ONE CYCLE OF THE MOON.”

“One month! It is too soon,” D’Scover protested. “He will not be ready for any kind of fight, and how will he know what to prepare for? What form is the Trial to take?”

“THE VISION CALLS FOR COMBAT, BUT THE FULL FORM IS AS YET UNDECIDED. THAT ISSUE MAY NOT EVEN BE IN OUR CONTROL AS THE VISION MAY CALL HIM TO THE TEST WITHOUT OUR INVOLVEMENT.”

“What does that mean?” D’Scover asked.

“WHAT OF THIS GIRL?” the Senior Council asked, ignoring D’Scover’s question.

In the centre of the circle a dark ball of cloud formed and parted with a sliver of white light. Within the cloud stood a frozen image of the girl D’Scover had seen in the Text and Adam had seen in his Hypnagogia.

“IS SHE LINKED TO THE BROTHERHOOD?”

“It is possible, yes,” D’Scover answered. “Finding her present form may be difficult and it may take time, more time than I . . .”

“IF IT IS THE RIGHT TIME, YOU WILL FIND HER,” the booming chorus interrupted.

The image of the girl suddenly vanished.

“WE ARE AWARE OF YOUR PRESENCE, SISTER. WE ORDER YOU TO APPEAR.”

A violet spiral whirled in the corner of the room and Sister Goodman walked out of the shadows.

“My lords, forgive me,” she grovelled, bowing low to the assembled Council. “I feel somewhat responsible for these events, as it was I who alerted Toby to the presence of the boy.”

“WE ARE AWARE OF THE BACKGROUND OF THIS CASE,” the Council boomed. “WE CONSIDER YOUR INVOLVEMENT TO NOW BE AT AN END.”

She stepped backwards into the darkness, avoiding eye contact with D’Scover.

“WE ARE FINISHED HERE, KEEPER,” the Council said. “BE READY WITHIN ONE LUNAR CYCLE.”

The room heaved again with a silent pulse of energy and the static sparkle of muted colours began to darken to a light-absorbing blackness rising up through the ceiling. The fading outlines of the Council members joined to form one vast mass of black particles that became a maelstrom and, just as suddenly as they came, they dissipated in a crack of thunder that shook the building. The clouds parted to reveal a sky studded with the cold decoration of stars.

“You know I like you with a sword, but I am not sure about the tights, although I suppose they are hose, not tights, really.”

D’Scover stood and realised that he was still wearing the changed clothes and Sister Goodman was still there. He smoothed his hands through the air just over the surface of his body and his clothes became the perfectly fitted charcoal-grey suit he had previously worn and his body stretched to adulthood again. Walking to the window, he looked down upon the acrid yellow lights of the city below.

“As an Attendant, you had the ears of the Council, sister. What is it that they mean when they say the issue may not be within their control?” he asked.

“Toby, I do not know what they think, only what they wish me to know.” She moved to his side and looked up at him. “I do know they feel something is coming, something that may change the Brotherhood for the remains of time, but I do not know what that is. There has been talk of disturbances in other countries – tales of malevolent spirits and once quiet souls suddenly taken to violent acts. The Senior Council are unsure why this is, but it may have something to do with the Vision.”

“You were with me when I died, sister; you nursed me in my fever and helped me into my Ritual long before you followed me yourself. You are all I can think of as a friend and I must trust you and your opinions accordingly.” He looked into her round face. “Do you think this boy is the Sentinel?”

She sighed and raised her gaze upwards. He watched the stars reflected in the dark pupils of her eyes. Silence filled the empty spaces in the room and she did not reply for the longest time. When she finally spoke, her words hung like weights around him.

“I just do not know, Toby. But I do know that, Sentinel or not, you must prepare the boy for his Trial.”

“Your training must begin in earnest,” D’Scover told Adam when he had pulled him back from his Dispersal. “And the first thing that you must learn is to control your own Dispersal and to perform your own Ritual of Sustainment. This is most important as it will enable you to maintain your substance and pass amongst the living.”

“Hang on, I’ve only just decided to join. Can’t we have some fun before the work starts?” Adam pleaded.

“Sadly we no longer have time; we have wasted enough already. Your first task is the Ritual and for that we need to consult the Texts.”

D’Scover moved back to the Madonna key painting and raised his palms in offering to her – murmuring the low chant as he did so. Tearing the air through the silver accumulation, he pulled out the crescent key and laid it in his palm. Turning back to the balcony doors, he waved them open and turned back to Adam.

“Follow me,” he snapped.

“Where are we going?” Adam trotted after him and out on to the balcony.

“To the library,” D’Scover replied.

“I thought no one knew where your library was?”

“That situation is about to change. Follow me.”

Adam caught up. “Should I close the windows?”

“No,” D’Scover said, “leave them; the office could do with some fresh air and these windows are well protected from infiltration.”

“By height, I imagine,” Adam said, peering over the balcony’s edge.

Morning had found the city sleeping fitfully under a thick, frosty mist that pushed an unnatural silence through the streets. This now crept up the building and wound its way round them as they walked the length of the balcony. Through gaps in the mist Adam could just make out the grey-green slick of the Thames worming its way past the base of the building. D’Scover reached the end first and pressed his palm against the brickwork allowing the sinuous trickle of silver to seep out across the bricks. The door slowly took its black shape and the hollow scrape allowed Adam to eventually see that it was an entrance.

“Sweet,” he said. “You’ve got a real flair for the dramatic, don’t you? Why can’t you just have a normal door?”

“The Texts must be protected at all costs; remember what I said before about the power they contain? There are other texts in here that could bring about the ruin of the living world,” he replied as he gestured for the slab of a door to open.

D’Scover signalled for Adam to follow him into the darkness and the tall wooden steps trundled towards them while the light on the table rolled out its thin illumination. Climbing the shelves, he began to search for a manuscript among the many in the upper levels. As he did, Adam kept himself busy by wandering along the crammed shelves, tipping his head this way and that to read the gold blocked words on the spines.

“Is this it?” He pulled out a massive ox-blood-coloured tome heavily decorated with gold leaf. “It looks impressive.”

“No,” D’Scover replied, looking down from his perch. “That one refers to methods of dealing with animal deaths.”

“Animals, you’re kidding, right?”

“In your admittedly limited experience of me, do you think that I joke much?”

“Ha!” Adam scoffed. “Good point. But animals? Don’t tell me places get haunted by animals?”

“Not for long thanks to that book,” D’Scover muttered over his shoulder, returning to his search.

“How do you find stuff in here?” Adam gestured up to the rising shelves. “I mean, do you have a catalogue or something?”

“No, disorder is protection,” D’Scover replied. “If, by some extraordinary chance, someone did get in here, they would not have long before the room’s defences came into operation. I hope that they would not have enough time to find the correct book. I am also hopeful that the correct book will find me today if it is meant to be, and I believe it is.”

“Defences, you said defences, you mean like booby traps?” Adam asked.

“In a manner of speaking. The Texts will defend themselves if threatened or if they feel concerned about their well-being.”

“You expect me to believe they have feelings?” Adam laughed.

“Not exactly, they only have those which their author has given them. The feelings a book holds are passed on to the original text only if the author has been very passionate in his or her beliefs.” D’Scover looked down at Adam. “And I think the one that you hold is passionate about being returned to its shelf.”

Adam looked down at the book that he had forgotten he still cradled and gasped as an angry green cat’s eye stared back at him from the cover. Jumping back, he dropped the book which fell a short distance from his hands before stopping in mid-air as though it had fallen on to an invisible cushion. Resting for the briefest moment, it rose in front of the boy, its eye keeping a close watch on him. It drifted to head height and slotted itself neatly back on the shelves.

“WHOA!” Adam was stunned. “All this stuff you do, is it like magic or something?”

“How many people believe in magic?” D’Scover said from his perch high up among the shelves.

“Loads, millions, I suppose. I mean, there are people in places like Haiti with the whole voodoo thing, and the Native Americans with shamans and stuff,” Adam answered. “Ah, I get it, it’s a belief thing again. That means that magic actually works?”

“On occasion some magic does, yes,” D’Scover confirmed. “But it is not as simple as conjuring things up with a snap of the fingers; it takes practice and the right words.”

“Can anyone do it?”

“No.” D’Scover’s tone showed he was not keen on continuing this line of conversation. “Now, if you have quite finished badgering me, I do have some work to do.”

“I think I’ll just have a quiet sit-down over here for a bit.” Adam pulled a chair out. “This is making my head ache.”

“I shall be with you shortly.” D’Scover continued his search.

Adam leaned back and looked up at the glass above his head, watching the sky clear and the morning sun make a weak effort to burn through the cold atmosphere. Dust motes caught the last fragments of light and revolved gently around the room as D’Scover lifted book after book from the shelves in his search, creating curling eddies in the still room. Time trickled slowly past and Adam allowed his eyes to drift closed as he breathed in the dusty smell. He relaxed into the warm and secure atmosphere of this most exclusive of libraries.

“Ah, here it is,” D’Scover called out at last, and he descended from the shelves.

Adam opened his eyes and was surprised to see that D’Scover held only a small book, no bigger than a modern paperback, bound in a dirty grey cloth.

“What’s that manky-looking thing?” Adam asked.

“This is the Addendum,” D’Scover replied as he placed it reverentially on the table.

“Isn’t that one of the books I saw you with in the Hypnagogia, in the monastery?”

“It is. This book contains all of the additional notes that Father Dominic made after the Master Text was written. It allows us to adjust the Ritual to suit individual needs. It is not often needed as the basic Ritual suits everyone, but we need something different in your case.”

“Oh yeah, because I’m the Sentinel, right?” Adam said in mock deference.

D’Scover cast him a look that chilled him as completely as if a bullet of ice had run clear through his body.

“This is no time for humour,” he said. “If you are not willing to enter into this fully, you must say so now.”

“Sorry,” Adam smiled. “I’m serious really, but it’s difficult to get my head round.”

“You will need to be able to do that before this is finished.” D’Scover picked up the book and walked to the door. “Come, you must perform your own Ritual.”

He strode from the room with Adam in brisk pursuit once more. Back in the office he lifted the Master Text from where it still rested on the small table and carried it back to the couch. It opened in his lap as if obediently trained and lay showing a page bordered by silver instead of the usual gold. This page looked cold among the heat of the other pages and even the paper seemed to shiver with the ice of it.

“Here is the Ritual of Sustainment. You must say this, with all your heart and with true commitment, or it will not work,” D’Scover said and offered the book to Adam.

“I can’t read that out. I haven’t got a clue what it says.” Adam looked down at the pages as he took the book from D’Scover.

The words on the pages were a jumble of Latin and code that seemed to defy translation. Adam felt the cold breath of the book in his face and shivered.

“It blew at me!”

“Indeed,” D’Scover replied, unimpressed. “You must extend your arms with your palms upwards during the first section and when you reach here,” he pointed at the second section, “you move them out to the side, then up into the air. Clap your hands hard together on the final words, like this . . .”

He showed Adam how to perform the final movements before Dispersal.

“Where do I put the book while I do all this hand-waving?” Adam asked.

“Eventually you will know the Ritual as well as you once knew how to breathe and it will become as natural to you too; you will not need the book then,” D’Scover explained. “But for now it can remain in front of you. Let it go and it will stay wherever you place it.”

Adam laid the book open in the air and it loyally remained where he could clearly see the pages.

“I still can’t read it – this is crazy,” he complained.

“Look at the words, Adam, really look at them,” D’Scover insisted. “You know these words; you can see past the language and into the meaning. It is all there inside your mind. Trust yourself and look deep into the pages.”

Adam shook his head in disbelief, but looked back at the pages once more and took a deep breath. He stared hard at the text for what felt like a lifetime and his eyes began to prick with exhaustion. He kept staring as his frustration and anger grew. Gradually the words moved about the page, sliding into each other in a slow-flowing silver mass that shifted around the creamy paper. As he watched, the ink began to separate from the liquid silver and form words he could now recognise. Soon the page began to fill with a legible script in a smooth and clear hand that Adam had no trouble reading. He took a deep breath and spoke the words out loud.

“Though I may be caught in this time and place I shall not lament and shall choose instead to give myself to the Brotherhood. I will allow myself to remain in the place of neither death nor life to do the bidding of the Brotherhood. I shall do my utmost to ensure the safety and protection of the living world. I have given up the trappings of the material world and instead I offer myself to this new purpose. I shall aid those trapped where they do not belong and provide assistance to those that require it. The Brotherhood shall be my master and I shall look to it for guidance until my Final Dispersal. By the powers of my belief and the belief of those about me I shall prevail over all adversity. These are my words alone and in performing this rite I shall be strengthened by the Dispersal and prove my commitment to the Brotherhood.”

The words moved again and a new section appeared below the first. Adam moved his hands slowly out to the side as D’Scover had shown him while he spoke this final section. “In this place I now belong and I shall move amongst the living and the dead with equal fluidity and control. I am the master of the Texts and I alone have access to the gateway that links all that their creators have known and will know. This much I accept to be true and this always shall be mine own destiny.”

The room was gone, and with it D’Scover and the book. Adam realised he was in Dispersal around the room and the familiar feeling of comfort and relaxation filled him. Without the restriction of the walls around him, he spread out his essence and gushed out over the waking city. He recognised the feeling of Dispersal, but this time it was different. He felt as though he was the strongest he had ever been and yet he had no body or even a distinguishable shape. This was not like the Dispersals he had felt before; this time he felt as if he could tear the fading stars from the sky and cast them down to the earth. All seemed insignificant beneath him, tiny and fragile people moving pathetically through their short lives.

This was like nothing he had ever felt before. Here there was a level of control that filled him with the desire to influence the living Earth. He felt he could go anywhere, at any time, and make things the way he wanted. It was as if the world had been spread out beneath his feet. Suddenly he understood the terrible allure of power and it filled him with a cold sense of dread. Gathering his thoughts, he turned his scattered substance back to the building and soared towards it, stopping dead at the faint illusion of the balcony and forcing himself back into human shape once more. He walked into the office to find D’Scover sitting at his desk, waiting for him.

“True Dispersal is quite a different sensation to the one that you have previously experienced, is it not?” he asked Adam.

“You’re telling me!” Adam gasped. “I could get really carried away with a feeling like that.”

“That is why it is a gift that is not given lightly,” D’Scover said. “It could be easily abused by the wrong spirit. The Brotherhood is here to carefully monitor any abuse.”

“I felt as if I could’ve torn the world apart,” enthused Adam. “I could’ve done anything, anything at all.”

“I performed the Addendum so that your Ritual would be specific to you and it may have been stronger than the one you usually experience, but you will get used to it. The first time is always the strongest.”

“It was amazing!” Adam gasped. “I could’ve taken on the world and won. I felt like I could have kicked some serious butt. I can’t really explain. It was like a blade in my mind cutting through all the mess in my life and setting me free. My head feels totally clear. I feel . . . freed.”

“I cannot explain your feelings. I did not grasp your words as you performed the final section. To you it may have seemed as if you read and spoke them in English, but you actually spoke the code of Father Dominic.” D’Scover sounded confused. “I did not understand your words, as they were not for me to hear in their base form, but that is the section influenced by the Addendum. Possibly something you said then caused the strength that you speak of.”

“I can’t remember exactly; there was something about destiny and the Texts and a gateway and moving amongst the living and the dead,” Adam babbled. “It’s like I knew the words and they were a part of me, more than just something I’d read. It all rushed away from me, like it just poured out. But now I can’t remember the exact words. I think I could probably say them again, but that’s crazy if I don’t actually know what they are. I do know I was so strong and had so much control over, well, everything.”

D’Scover looked down at his hands and laced his fingers together, all the while avoiding eye contact with Adam.

“What?” Adam asked. “You’re acting weird now – what’s wrong?”

“Your success in the Dispersal Ritual has confirmed a few things for me. I think that the time has come,” D’Scover said quietly without looking up, “for me to tell you of the plans the Senior Council have for you.”