The Quest Begins: The Sacred Quest Trilogy, #1

Prologue

"What book are you writing Louise?

You know the story you are writing

is going to become real."

1

This is it. This is the place where the lands of the living and the dead collide and merge. It is the entrance from one world to another, from one time to another, and if you trust me I will take you through that doorway right now."

The wind howled across the headland as the sun set in the distance, framing the whole of Ireland in its dipping ember glow. Standing at the summit of the Hill of Uisneach, a Mage gazed up at her Magus. What extraordinary magic had brought them together once more to this time and place?

Na hiroumanastanay. Di nuth munaneth in shayamana. Of course I trust you. The question is do you trust me? she laughed, long dark hair whipping across her face in the quickening breeze as she gazed at his imposing figure.

He cast a majestic presence against the backdrop of the Branching Tree of Uisneach. Tall, broad shouldered, slim and toned, his skin was sun-kissed and his unruly hair, although so dark, was streaked with golden light. The Mountain Ash tree, in all its silent glory, seemed to bend down towards him in reverence as it whispered its message.

Besh dun, besistanay. Alchemist of old, tell us the story of time.

Hath mun hathmin tinaya ristunaya. Ah, now that is quite a story. Time is not what you think, the Magus called out to the distant horizon.

Turning back towards his Mage his eyes, as fluid and intense as the ocean, blazed with immense love.

Life is a beautiful gift, death a wondrous adventure, yet time is the most intriguing experience of all, the Magus laughed, and it all begins with magic.

And why is that? his Mage teased now as amusement flashed across her dark eyes. What could time possibly have to do with magic or with the passing from one world into another?

Beaming, the Magus bowed his head towards the tree and waited, ceremoniously, for the tree to return the compliment.

As it did so he raised his arms, palms upturned, and cried out to the sky, Tyinuntilathmananeth. Benushturay lionis. Impart your secrets ancient one.

A flash of lightning streaked through the sky, blazing a path of light through the stratosphere, as the age-old tree turned towards the Mage and asked, Melarustay dun, besistalanistaray. Alchemist of old, tell us the story of love.

Ah, now that is quite a story, she smiled, unfathomable love evident within her eyes as her gaze rested firmly upon the Magus. It all begins with alchemy, the alchemy of love.

How so? the Magus inquired, tossing his head back in laughter as his voice boomed across the darkening sky.

Well, I believe that you know the answer to this already, she teased. Maybe I should let you take me through that doorway after all. Perhaps in the passing you will remember.

And so as a resplendent full moon found its way into the darkened skies, carving an auspicious golden path across the hill directly towards the ancient tree, the Magus took the hand of his Mage and strode into its epicentre. The trunk seemed to peel away its many layers of bark until it revealed a doorway of moving particles of light.

Nihamanoun tirastanay. From life to death, the Magus spoke gently.

Nihastanay manountira. From death to life, his Mage replied.

The lightning streaked across the sky once more, striking the tree to set it afire in a blazing luminous white flame.

Two figures passed through the flames, hand in hand.

This, the beginning of the end, was the end of the beginning.

It was The Sacred Quest.

2

Quickening her pace as she reached the entrance to Edinburgh Castle, Louise wondered what was compelling her to urgently visit this place.

It was deep winter and the crisp Edinburgh air was biting with some ten inches of snow underfoot. It was her first visit to this city of such majestic, gothic beauty and she had already decided it would not be her last. Pulling her woollen hat down over her ears to protect herself from the extreme cold, she turned back to see her friends some way behind her. She couldn’t wait for them; such was her eagerness to explore the castle. They would catch her up.

It was nearly Christmas and the castle was swarming with visitors. Head down to protect her eyes from the driving snow, she began to make her way up through the winding cobbled streets within the castle walls towards the imposing central courtyard and turrets. A signpost, barely visible through the white haze, pointed the way to the Argyle Turret. Reaching out to grab the hand-rail at the base of the stairs to the turret, she slipped. The moment her hand connected with the stone floor a strange sensation passed through her.

I have been here before, she mused and then shook it off. Of course I haven’t been here before. This is my first visit to Edinburgh, she laughed to herself.

A gentleman leant down to help her to her feet. Thanking him, she stood and began the climb to the turret. Her feet were not gripping the surface and, fearful of falling again, she leant towards the wall of the ascending turret to steady her.

An image flashed through her mind the moment her body touched the wall. It was of a beautiful young woman with long dark hair, strolling through this castle on a dark and magical evening. The castle looked different yet was unmistakably Edinburgh Castle. The woman wore a long simple robe and seemed to be surrounded in a cloud of silver dust. Who was she?

Pull yourself together, Louise murmured to herself, dismissing the vision as the wanderings of her imagination.

Reaching the entrance to the turret, she strode past the many people clamouring to enter and free themselves from the bitter cold of the driving snow. The moment she entered she felt her body begin to sway as she was drawn, as if by an invisible thread, to the furthermost promontory of the turret. There was a seat in the promontory offering a spectacular view of the sprawling city of Edinburgh and all of its ancient buildings through its glass window. Deciding to take a moment to sit, Louise gazed through the glass at the scene outside. As her gaze fell into a kind of trance, the buildings seemed to disappear, as did the snow, and the scene became one of sprawling hills and meadows. Dusk was setting on the horizon and a mounting excitement filled her heart. Something extraordinary was about to happen. Her long, simple robe billowed in the wind of the opening before her and she closed her eyes to protect them from the sudden gust.

What was that? Louise uttered to herself as she stood up, confused.

Still trance like, she walked out of the turret and directly into a small shop at the base of the next turret in the antediluvian stone courtyard. The invisible thread had intensified as her eyes caught sight of a ring in a glass display cabinet. Her body shook as, driven by an inexplicable urge to place the ring on her finger, she asked the assistant if she could please try the ring on for size.

Taking the simple blue and silver ring from the cabinet the assistant began to explain to Louise that this ring was created by a designer from Orkney Island and that it bore an unusual inscription upon it, one taken directly from a stone excavated on that island. Staring at the strange indecipherable inscription, Louise wasn’t listening. She was bent upon placing the ring upon her finger. Why?

The assistant reached out, took her hand and gently slid the ring onto her finger. Staggering, Louise felt as if she had just been struck by lightning. A bolt of energy surged through her body as her mind left the shop and drifted to the beautiful young woman once more. She stood in front of a striking man, an ancient warrior and great Alchemist who, silhouetted against a crimson full moon, reached towards her now with eyes full of immeasurable love.

Na hiroudastanay. Are you ready? he spoke gently as the crowds edged towards them both, anxiously waiting to see what was about to unfold.

Her heart was so full of love, expanding rapidly, as excitement filled the air. A shadow moved and a sudden chill filled the night sky. Sheer terror took hold as a dark and menacing figure loomed towards her, appearing as if from nowhere. She couldn’t see its face, just the heavy black sackcloth robe that seemed to keep it hidden. The terror spread rapidly through her body as she understood what the figure meant to do to her now. Towering above her, it dragged her away from the man she loved. She cried out in agony as the understanding of her destiny set in and the smile of her lover turned to a torturous expression.

Are you okay? the shopkeeper asked as Louise reeled in shock.

Who was that ancient Alchemist who had invoked such unfathomable love within the young woman she now realised was herself? Her heart was beating wildly, overwhelmed with the profundity of that love. His omnipotent presence as a master of high magic had been obvious from the silver dust dancing around his profile, and the whispers amongst the vast crowds of people. Yet she had never heard of the term alchemist before and so how did she know of it now?

No, Louise whispered as she paid for the ring and hastily left the shop.

3

Hurry, the exhibition will close soon and we don’t want to miss it."

Louise began to walk at a faster pace to catch her friends, heading through the grand stone arch and into the stately sweeping campus of Ireland’s oldest university. One of the seven ancient universities of Britain and Ireland, Trinity College occupied the renovated buildings of the dissolved Augustinian Priory of All Hallows, set up to consolidate the rule of the Tudor monarchy in Ireland.

It was the eve of Midsummer’s Night and Dublin was alive with a fervour as tourists and students anticipated the evening ahead. She had heard talk of the ancient ceremonies that the Celts celebrated and Midsummer’s Night was one renowned for transforming darkness into light.

Transforming darkness into light. What a thought, she murmured to herself as she was once more immersed in the profound darkness that prevailed in her heart.

Those moments in Edinburgh Castle, just six months ago, had catalysed a period of carnage around her. Her life had begun to break on a colossal scale. Huge panes of glass had shattered around her, her car and various electrics had stopped working and she had smashed seven teeth in a freak accident. During this time her heart had been in such pain and despair at feeling trapped in a failing marriage. She felt the weight of that pain upon her now. How much longer could she stay in this marriage? Her heart was dying.

Oh, on the outside her life looked amazing. With a flourishing financial career in the City of London, a great home, three beautiful sons and a well-respected, successful husband she appeared to have everything she could possibly want. Her husband was a wonderful man and father, good and honourable, but she knew that their marriage had broken down years before. Their deep-rooted belief systems were at different ends of the spectrum, a fact that had been emphasised by the arrival and upbringing of their children, and they had grown far apart. She had stayed, deeply conditioned by what others expected of her as her duty and out of great love for him.

Tears gently fell upon her face now as the weight of hopelessness filled her heart. The decision about what to do had weighed heavily upon her for so long.

Caressing the ring from Edinburgh still upon her finger, she wondered at the vision of the ancient Alchemist and the inexplicable feelings of love within her as she had gazed into his eyes in those moments. It was strange. He had seemed like another man, one who had appeared in her dreams for some years now. She couldn’t be sure if they were the same man or connected somehow. Why had that sinister, robed and hooded figure torn them apart? What were they about to do together? Why had she been so terrified? This had relentlessly tormented her since.

Get a grip on yourself, it was only a waking dream, Louise spoke sternly to herself now dismissing the vision as she wiped the tears from her face and hurried through the impressive courtyard to join her friends at the exhibition.

For how could dreams such as this really be true?

4

Quiet please," an attendant whispered in the pitch darkness of the exhibition room as a group of tourists exclaimed in wonder over an ancient illuminated manuscript, The Book of Kells.

This was one of the oldest Celtic manuscripts in existence, renowned for its elaborate insular illuminations. Said to be a rendering of the four evangelistic gospels, it