And on a pedestal next to the “inclinometer,” raised for everyone in the village to see, were two very sacred objects:
A smoked-glass Pillar and a beautiful crystal orb.
Wizard saw them, too, and he inhaled sharply. “The Second Pillar and the Seeing Stone.”
They weren’t able to stare at the little sacred island for long, however, for just then their guards brought them to a deep semicircular pit off the main square: in it were two square granite platforms that rose twenty feet above the pit’s muddy base.
Down in the mud, looking up at Lily and Alby with unblinking eyes, prowled two large crocodiles.
Two drawbridges thunked into place and the group was shoved at sword point onto the granite slabs: the two girls on one, the two men and Alby on the other. Each towerlike platform was about ten feet from the edge and seven feet from each other, so escape was impossible. Both bore frightening axe marks and bloody scratches on their surfaces.
The drawbridges were removed.
A crowd had gathered around the platforms—curious Neetha townsfolk, all of them possessing bony growths on their faces, and all staring at the captives, murmuring animatedly among themselves.
But then the whispering ceased, and the crowd split as a series of flaming torches cut through their ranks, and an official party emerged.
Twelve men, led by a great obese fellow whose animal-skin outfit was covered in weapons, skulls, and ornaments. His fleshy face was disgusting, covered in growths. Among the weapons on his belt, Wizard saw a nineteenth-century Winchester rifle.
The chief of the tribe. Bearing the weapons and skulls of those his line had vanquished over the centuries. Good Lord…
Seven younger men, all standing tall and proud, escorted the chief.
Probably his sons,Wizard thought.
The other four men in the leadership group were different:three were clearly warriors; lean and muscled, with fierce eyes and warpainted faces.
The fourth and last man, however, was just bizarre.
He was old and gnarled, hunched, with the worst facial growths of any of them. He too had a warpainted face and he possessed the most terrifying eyes Wizard had ever seen in his life—this hunched old man had diseased yellow irises that stared crazily at both everything and nothing.
He was the warlock of the Neetha.
Their belongings were emptied in front of the warlock.
Watched by the chief, the warlock rummaged through their stuff, before with a cry he held aloft the clear First Pillar.
“Neehaka!”he yelled.
“Neehaka…ooh, neehaka…”the crowd murmured.
“Neehaka bomwacha Nepthys! Hurrah!”
Wizard didn’t have a clue what was being said.
But then, from the other slab, he heard Lily say: “He’s speaking the language of Thoth. Speaking it. ‘Neehaka’ is‘nee,’ ‘The First,’ and‘haka,’ ‘Great Pillar.’ The first Great Pillar.‘Bonwacha’ means infused or impregnated. ‘The First Great Pillar has been infused by Nepthys.’”
“Nepthys is another name for the Dark Star,” Wizard whispered. “Its Greek name.”
Then the warlock extracted the Philosopher’s Stone and the Firestone from Lily’s pack and his eyes went even wider.
He shot a look at Wizard and barked a flurry of phrases.
Lily translated timidly. “He wants to know how you came upon the great tools of cleansing.”
“Tell him, ‘After much study and many years of searching.’” Wizard said.
In a frightened voice, Lily conveyed this.
The warlock inhaled sharply and muttered something, his eyes remaining wide.
Lily said to Wizard, “He’s surprised that I can speak Thoth. He finds this prophetic. He is a warlock, and he thinks that you must be one also—”
A shout from the warlock silenced her.
Then the warlock turned suddenly and called for someone. Again the crowd parted, and now a woman stepped forward from the back of the group.
When she saw her, Lily gasped.
So did Wizard.
It was a white woman, perhaps fifty-five years of age, with gray-blond hair and an elfish face that seemed beaten down, worn. She was dressed like the other Neetha women, in a leather hide and with primitive jewelry.
Wizard breathed, “Dr. Cassidy? Dr. Diane Cassidy?”
