PART ONE
Pamir Mountains, on the border between Tajikistan and China, Earth.
The television crackled slightly.
“… devastated the coast of Sri Lanka, as far in land as several hundred miles. Due to the recent rise in extreme weather conditions out at sea, experts are now saying that these tsunamis could be the first of a wave. People living on the coast at tectonic borders around the globe are already evacuating their homes…”
“Is there ever anything on the news which isn’t death and destruction?” Tsi asked, glancing up from the pile of papers he’d been trying to sort through.
“Perhaps not in Jamaica, sir,” his assistant replied good-naturedly. Chen was young – about thirty – and had only been in the job five years, but he had a familiarity that Tsi liked. A sense of humour was important in a job like this. Tsi had had plenty of cold, straight-backed, efficient assistants, and they all bored him to death.
“Have you got the latest report from Lorraine?”
“Right here, sir.”
In the background, the television crackled again. In this isolated part of the Pamir Mountains, there was very little signal and many of the electrical items needed an infusion of magic every now and then to keep them working properly. Tsi would get round to that once he’d dealt with the latest global crisis. Freak weather conditions, earthquakes, tsunamis, a couple of erupted volcanoes… nothing out of the ordinary for this planet, except that it was all happening at once and every continent had been hit. Other than that abnormality, there was so far no indication of magical involvement and, if there was no magical involvement, Tsi had no right to intervene. The Council of Originals existed to protect fairykind, primarily from the originals themselves: natural or human affairs were not to be tangled with. If these series of events proved simply to be coincidence, all he needed to do was remind the other originals to be on special alert and be prepared to help evacuation and healing. He could hope. Unfortunately, Tsi had been alive too long to maintain a naive belief in coincidence.
Lorraine’s report was disturbing. Animal migration had taken a baffling turn, with animals of all kinds migrating towards the poles. A number of species on Earth actually originated from other planets. These consisted mainly of sea creatures who dwelled at the sea bottom or in the deep ocean where humans were less likely to disturb them; recently, these alien animals had been migrating towards the coast, where some had already been captured and discovered by humans. Three otherworld ambassadors who usually lived on Earth had left this morning. What was happening? What did everyone else know that the fairies didn’t?
Tsi stretched his arms and stood up. “Have we heard anything from Mallos lately?”
“His last report was just over a week ago. Apparently everything on Shaman is normal… or at least, normal for Shaman.”
According to Zed and his team of diplomats, everything was normal in the other worlds the council maintained continuous contact with, too. So it was just Earth.
Tsi pushed the papers away and walked over to the window. Since becoming Acting Chairman of the Council of Originals, this had gradually become his most favoured place on the planet. Tsi had homes all over China, but most of them were in major cities – Shanghai, Beijing and Guangzhou being his primary residences – and with a life as busy as his was becoming, the hustle and bustle of the city world was exactly what he needed to get away from. This place, which Tsi called his ‘chalet’ but was in reality closer to being a mansion, was the only building for miles around. Set into the side of the Pamir Mountains, it overlooked western China with stunning views; this room, his office, had one outer wall with floor-to-ceiling windows spanning the entire length. Unusually modern for the home of a deity. Occasionally the chalet was used for unofficial meetings with the originals, but generally it served as Tsi’s personal getaway.
Before him, snow-capped mountains with grassy valleys stretched as far as they eye could see. Dawn had just broken. Thirty miles south of here, the nearest agricultural village would be sleepily shaking itself awake to begin the morning’s work. Despite being up all night, only now was exhaustion beginning to set in; Tsi hadn’t been sleeping much since all these mysterious problems began last month. Wearily, he rubbed his eyes and turned just in time to see Chen open the locket hanging around his neck, reach inside and pull out a roll of paper that should never possibly have fit inside.
Like all of Tsi’s personal assistants, Chen had previously worked for Khasekhemwy as a Divine Scribe. The Divine Scribes were the messengers for the council, in charge of handling communications between the originals, but they also handled all the official documents and had control of the archives. Imitating the originals’ divine pendant system, the scribes used magical objects to communicate with each other, usually disguised as some form of jewellery. Anyone wanting to get a message to Tsi had to send it through Chen’s locket, which he kept on him at all times.
Chen unrolled the paper and only glanced over it briefly before handing it to his employer. Tsi recognised Khasekhemwy’s handwriting. He read it through three times before looking up at his assistant.
“Take a note to Zed,” he said. “Tell him to send for Rhaegar.”
|