Derae took her hand. ‘Are you ill, Tamis? I’ve not heard you speak like this before.’
‘I am not ill. I am dying, Derae. And none of my work is
finished. I wonder sometimes if we ever finish what we start. I am so tired of it all. I have done terrible things . . . terrible. I thought I was being clever.’ She laughed then, the sound a dry cackle which ended in a series of racking coughs. She cleared her throat and spat into the rosebushes. ‘Look at me! Beautiful Tamis! It is hard to believe that men once desired me.’
‘What did you dream?’ Derae asked.
‘Dream?’
‘You said you dreamt of your first husband. Tell me of it.’
‘I saw how good it was to be loved, to be touched, to use and be used. I saw all that I have lost – all my mistakes, my vanities.’
‘Show me!’ whispered Derae, laying her hands on the old woman’s head. Tamis relaxed and Derae swam into her subconscious, seeing the young Tamis writhing beneath a powerful, bearded young man. Derae did not watch the scene but floated high above it, twisting in the air, seeking . . . searching. Then she saw her, the dark-cloaked woman. She was laughing and pointing at the rutting couple. Derae moved closer. The woman was not alone, shadowy shapes hovered around her.
Derae surfaced into the cool of the dawn garden. ‘It was no dream, Tamis; it was the woman I spoke of. She came to you, filling your mind with despair.’
‘Nonsense. I would have seen her. I am still powerful!’ protested Tamis. ‘Why do you seek to undermine me?’
‘I do not,’ Derae told her. ‘I promise you. We are under attack, Tamis. But why now?’
‘The Dark Birth is close,’ whispered Tamis. ‘So close. Maybe within the year, certainly within two. Was she truly in my head?’
‘Yes. I am sorry.’
‘It does not matter. All powers fade.’ Tamis sighed. ‘I wish I could teach you more, but I cannot. And one day you will hate me.’ Tears fell from her eyes.
‘You have taught me much, my friend … my dear friend. How could I ever hate you?’
‘You saw the woman? Well, that is retribution of a poetic
kind,’ said Tamis. ‘One day you will know why. But tell me, where is Parmenion?’
‘He is in Susa. The Great King has presented him with a prize stallion following his victory in Mesopotamia.’
‘He will be drawn into the battle for Macedonia,’ Tamis said. ‘That is the centre now. All the powers are being drawn there, it is the place. Go there! Go there now! See it. Feel it!’
‘I cannot go now. I am worried about you, Tamis.’
‘It is too late for your worries, my dear. The future is upon us. The Dark God is coming.’
‘But we can still stop him?’
Tamis shrugged and stared around the garden. ‘Look at the roses. There are hundreds of them. Every year there are thousands of blooms. If I were to ask you to trim and prune them all so that only one perfect bloom would emerge, and all other bushes remained green, could you do it?’
‘I think so, but it would take all my power.’
‘What if I asked you to prune all the roses in the world, so that only one bush produced one perfect flower?’
‘What are you saying, Tamis?’
‘Go to Macedonia, my dear. I will sit and watch the roses grow.’
Derae soared above the temple and fled west, passing over the mountains of Thrace and the plains of the great rivers Nestus, Strymon and Axios. Floating in a clear blue sky she relaxed her mind, closing her spirit eyes and riding the rhythms of power as they pulsed from the land below. She felt herself drawn south, over the sea and down towards a mountain range. Lower and lower she flew. Below her a group of horsemen were pursuing a lion. It ran into the rocks and then, out of sight of the pursuers, turned and prepared itself for the charge. One of the hunters, a handsome dark-bearded young man, had pulled ahead of the group. He galloped his horse into the rocks and leapt to the ground, a light hunting spear in his hand. The lion charged but the hunter did not panic or run. Dropping to one knee, he gripped his spear firmly and waited for the beast to charge.