‘How do you mean?’ Devere was pleased to be breaking new ground, having already known that which currently had Lord Devere and myself reeling in shock.
‘Well, for example,’ Malory motioned to Mr Devere, ‘if you were to be fed the Fire-Stone substance, your physical strength would become the equivalent of ten men and your life expectancy would also be increased. You would have the ability to change form and levitate, just as Molier does. However, you would not suffer the same intolerance to sunlight that he does for your atomic structure possesses the Gene of Isis. Your love of your wife, who also possesses this gene, then heightens your psychic powers. No Chosen ruler could be without the understanding of true love and survive.’
‘Is that why the very ancient pharaohs of Egypt were recorded as living for extraordinary lengths of time?’ I mused out loud.
‘Exactly, Lady Devere,’ Malory said, and my husband looked displeased that I was supporting the Grand Master’s theories. ‘But Molier has no such love of the goddess and even if he did, without the Gene of Isis it would serve him not,’ Malory continued. ‘He is dependent on the Fire-Stone substance and is condemned to live in darkness for the rest of his days. My personal theory is that the Fire-Stone—despite sending all Molier’s atoms into a high-spin state, each a spinning vortex absorbing cosmic light into his physical and light-body—has not enabled him to return that life-giving energy back to the cosmos; that is, the outward-spinning vortexes of his subtle bodies.’
‘The chakras,’ Mr Devere noted, nodding in understanding.
‘Yes.’ Malory was pleased that at least one person was understanding this discussion. ‘I think, in Molier’s case, his atoms are consuming that vital life force, but as his light-body is unprepared for such a large degree of digestion and transmutation, the consequence is the damming of the cosmic energy within his physical form.’
‘You could be quite right about that, my lord,’ Mr Devere concurred. ‘Molier’s light-body is very strange indeed. Whilst his aura sparkles golden, as an enlightened soul does, his chakra centres are bogged with darkness.’
Malory smiled, amazed and proud at how much his student had learned. ‘You noted this personally?’
‘I did,’ Mr Devere confirmed, suppressing a cocky smile. ‘When I met him in Paris.’
‘That might also explain Molier’s intolerance to light,’ I suggested, fascinated. ‘As his system is so dammed up by light, he can’t possibly sustain any more.’
‘Interesting.’ Malory smiled at my theory.
‘So, rather than raising his physical body closer to a spiritual state of being, the Fire-Stone may be drawing Molier’s spiritual body closer to his physical which gives longevity?’ Mr Devere pondered the premise and found it deeply curious. ‘That would surely have devastating effects on his soul-mind? For Molier’s spirit would, in effect, be merging with his physical body, and perhaps even be trapped inside his physical form.’
‘He didn’t look too trapped in the physical when I saw him,’ Lord Devere reminded us.
‘Not while he remains undead and taking the Fire-Stone,’ Mr Devere said. ‘But what might happen if his physical body was destroyed? Does the soul-mind trapped therein perish? Where do vampires go when they die?’
‘Wherever the damned go,’ Lord Malory proposed, and we all knew he was referring to hell.
‘If Molier fears his own demise that would explain why he is after both vials. Perhaps he believes that the treasure they will unlock can in some way prevent his eternal damnation?’ I added my two pence worth.
‘Well, at least we have a vague motive, I guess.’ My husband was processing so much information that he didn’t know where to start any argument, and so decided to forgo the opportunity for now.
‘In which case, death by fire is our best chance for destroying Molier,’ Mr Devere decided.
Malory realised there was one catch. ‘But only if we can surprise him while he is in physical form.’
Everyone present took a deep breath and sighed, realising our plan of attack still required quite a bit of serious thought.
Mr Devere appeared the most concerned. ‘I just hope we can catch up to my wife before she opens the gateway.’
LESSON 22
LOVE FROM THE TRAVEL JOURNALS OF MRS ASHLEE DEVERE
Eight hours after departing Cairo in the direction of the rising sun, we were travelling across as perfect a desert as if we had moved thousands of miles away from civilisation. The Bedouins referred to the wilderness as the open sea, and loved it better than any landscape the East had to offer.
I had not forgotten Jessenia’s warning in regard to riding a horse in my condition, and I was not ignorant enough to suppose that a camel would be any more favourable. I had been forced to tell Cingar about my pregnancy so that he could make provision for it. Although he now understood my husband’s frustration and was doubly displeased by my decision to pursue my quest, Cingar assured me that with enough money, anything could be arranged.
‘Would jewels or coin be preferable?’ I assured my guide that money was no object.
Thus it was that I found myself travelling in the style of an Arabian princess. Atop my camel was strapped a carriage compartment, with a roof, two solid walls at the front and back, and a flat floor. To my right and left were thick curtains that could be drawn back, or closed and tied to keep out the desert winds and sand. Beneath me the floor of my travelling compartment was lined with rugs and cushions to absorb some of the impact of the jarring motion of my ride.
To act as a guide, Cingar had procured a Bedouin man well known to him, in whom he claimed to have implicit confidence. Our caravan consisted of ten camels, our guide and three young camel drivers, all of whom we were required to make provision for during the journey.
Our camels, at a steady pace, were capable of covering twenty-five miles a day. I was told they could reach speeds of twelve miles per hour, but bearing my condition in mind, Cingar insisted we did not push our luck.
