Whenever West worked in his study, his falcon always sat loyally on his shoulder—alerting him with a squawk when anyone approached.
Lily was intrigued by Horus.
She was an absolutely stunning bird, proud in her bearing and laserlike in her intensity. She didn't play with Lily—despite Lily's continued efforts to coax her.
Bouncing balls, fake mice, nothing Lily used could draw the falcon out into play. No, whatever silly thing Lily did to get her attention, Horus would just stare back at her with total disdain.
Horus, it seemed, cared for only one person.
Jack West.
This was a fact Lily would confirm through experimentation. One day, when once again Horus would not be drawn from West's shoulder, Lily threw her rubber mouse
The falcon moved with striking speed.
She intercepted the tossed mouse easily—in mid-air halfway between Lily and West—her talons clutching the toy rodent in twin vice-like grips.
Dead mouse.
Lesson learned.
But research was not the only thing West did.
It didn't escape Lily's notice that while she was busy studying in her classroom, Huntsman would often disappear into the old abandoned mine in the hills beyond the western paddock, not far from the aeroplane hangar. Strangely, he would wear an odd uniform: a fireman's helmet and his canvas jacket. And Horus always went with him.
Lily was strictly forbidden from going into those caves.
Apparently, Wizard had built a series of traps in the mine
tunnels—traps based on those in the ancient books that he and West studied—and Huntsman would go in there to test himself against the traps.
Lily found Jack West Jr to be a bit of a mystery.
And she wondered at times, as children do, if he even liked her at all.
But one thing Lily
Her progress with languages was being carefully monitored.
'She continues to excel,' Wizard reported, just after she turned nine. 'Her transliteration skills are like nothing I have ever seen. And she doesn't even know how good she is. She plays with languages the way Serena Williams plays with spin on a tennis ball—she can do things with it, twist it this way and that, in ways you or I can't even begin to imagine.'
Big Ears reported, 'She's physically fit, good endurance. If it ever becomes necessary, she can run six miles without breaking a sweat.'
'And she knows every inch of my study,' West said. 'She sneaks in there once a week.'
Zoe said, 'I know it isn't mission-related, but she's actually becoming quite good at something else: ballet. Watches it on cable. Now I know lots of little girls
'Certainly.'
'Ballet, you say . . .' West said.
It came as a surprise to Lily when she arrived at breakfast one day—again ignoring the sheet on the fridge— and found West
waiting for her in the kitchen, alone, dressed and ready to go somewhere.
'Hey, kiddo. Want to go out for a surprise?'
'Sure.'
The surprise was a private plane trip to Cape Town and a visit to a performance of
Royal Ballet.
Lily sat through the entire performance with her mouth agape, her eyes wide with wonder, entranced.
West just looked at her the whole time—and maybe once, just once, he even smiled.
In 2001, she saw the first
lives.
And from those readings of
own callsign.
Sky Monster bestowed it on her, naming her after her favourite
character in the epic.
The feisty shieldmaiden from Rohan who kills the Witch-King of Angmar, the Ringwraith whom no
Lily loved her callsign.
And still, every day, she would enter the kitchen and get her juice— and see the sheet of paper with the strange writing on it stuck to the fridge door.
Then one morning, a few days before her tenth birthday, she looked at the uppermost box on it and said, 'Huh. I get it now. I know what that says.'
Everyone in the kitchen at the time—Doris, Wizard, Zoe and Pooh Bear—whirled around instantly.
'What does it say, Lily?' Wizard said, gulping, trying not to show his excitement.
'It's a funny language, uses letters and pictures to create sounds. It says,
The next day, the entire team left Victoria Station on board the
That same day the Sun rotated on its axis and the small sunspot that the Egyptians called Ra's Prophet appeared on its surface. In seven days, on March 20, the Tartarus Rotation would occur.
THE PHAROS
As a Wonder of the World, the Lighthouse at Alexandria has always been, terribly unfairly, the perennial runner-up.
It is second in height to the Great Pyramid at Giza—by a mere 29 metres.
It stood, intact and functioning, for 1,600 years, until it was hit by a pair of devastating earthquakes in 1300 AD. Only the Great Pyramid survived for longer.
But ultimately it would defeat the Pyramid on one important count: it was useful.
And because it survived for so long, we have many descriptions of it: Greek, Roman, Islamic.
By today's standards, it was a skyscraper.
Built on three colossal levels, it stood 117 metres high, the equivalent of a 40-storey building.
The first level was square—broad, solid and powerful. The foundation level.
The second level was octagonal and hollow.