Carlos rubbed his palms down his face, renewed guilt stabbing him. "Yeah. She did go dark for a moment-but fluxed back."
"Her condition was so tenuous that she was concealed, even to us?"
"Probably," Carlos said quietly, knowing within his heart that she had to be. Any strong Neteru team would have smoked his baby girl if they'd seen her. The Light had held out hope after all.
"She's not just a Guardian," one teacher whispered, his eyes wide.
"Not just his Guardian mate," the other said, leaning on his stick, stunned.
"We got one half of the whole," the eldest murmured and closed his eyes, turning his dark, lined face toward the sun. "She's cloaked. This is more than was even foretold."
"Okay, I know it's deep-but do you know where she is?"
They opened their eyes and stared at Carlos.
"Yes. Of course we do. She is learning battle formations to assist you-we thought. But, she's not your assistant; she's your equal. You're her equal. We thought we were ensuring your Guardian mate's safe passage, but a Neteru was being ferried. That isentirely different." They all looked around nervously as the eldest teacher spoke. "Do you understand what that implies?"
"Not totally, but-"
"Do you know why our land was never conquered?" the eldest shouted, pointing his stick at Carlos. "How people so small with so little could never be defeated?"
All Carlos could do was stare at the man.
"Touch my stick and close your eyes. This was carved from the Tree of Knowledge in the Garden." He chuckled sadly as he looked at it. "I made assumptions, and didn't use my own gifts fully." They shared a smile. "Happens to the best of us. Be gentle with yourself. You are never too old or too wise to learn."
Carlos didn't move. What this teacher implied was beyond profound. "The Tree .. ."he whispered. "Hombre, that's a lot of juice to be pointing at a newbie. Now, I'm no punk, but I know about getting fried, and-"
"Touch the stick," the elder commanded. "We were almost about to make a grave error. Something has hidden her so deeply away that even we could not see her. It has receded her power, taken her Isis to keep her hidden from evil until you are readied as one."
Reluctantly, Carlos stretched out his hand and gingerly touched the wet, sandy end of the long stick that was held before him. Instantly a bright light scored the inside of his lids, causing him to drop the end of the wood and cover his eyes. But the image held as the blinding brightness bored into his skull, carving past his normal sight, searing his brain until the hair on his head stood up with static charge. For a fleeting moment he saw it. Glistening gold, its long lid ajar, spilling forth waves of iridescent light, the sound of metal swords and the clamoring voices of eager angels made him drop to his knees. "You have the Ark of the Covenant here?" Carlos croaked. "They said it was a myth."
The elder withdrew the stick and shoved the tip of it into the sand, stopping the intense vision. "It has always been in Ethiopia, the land of Eden and the first peoples. Its Jerusalem location was a myth. Our fighting sticks, like that of the Mother-Seer; also come from here and hold the power of the Donga. The words from our land are legendary. Know this, our eyes are within the wood."
"He could see it," the second elder said. "He is Neteru."
"He is the one who is supposed to work with the sixth ring!" the eldest said, grasping Carlos's hand and yanking him to his feet. He began drawing circles to create seven layers in all.
"Look," he ordered, not even allowing Carlos to recover. "You sank to the depths of the sixth realm of darkness and must be quickly reinstated to the sixth ring above."
The old man walked back and forth, his robes kissing the sand and using his stick as a pointer. "Ring one is where the ancestors go. Spirits that guide us and help us until we are strong enough for them to leave us after they've crossed over. Ring two is where they prepare for their ascension and lessons, after they have helped others close to the edges of transition. Ring three is where those guides that inspire and impart wisdom reside to make the human existence better-art, music, science, medicine, all. Ring four are carriers of prayers-they bear up the intercessions and answer them... we have ancestors there, too, if we are so blessed. They keep family lines going and merge them to one worldness. Ring five are the keepers of the Akashic Records of all knowledge and they protect the keepers of the seals... they are also responsible for healing, nature, the things we must teach you to fight in a different way... but ring six are where the generals are... the warrior angels that fight the righteous causes and fear not the depths of Hell." He stopped speaking and closed his eyes. "My short description does not begin to explain the power of the rings. More will be revealed as your strength grows."
The old man had broken out into an impassioned sweat, beads of it rolling down his temples as he spoke. "They are strong enough to fly into Hell danger zones, extract the lost, and return them to the Most High's realm, even after death has tried to seal their fate." He stared at Carlos. "Only the sixth-ring warriors can see the Ark. After that ring, only seventh Heaven exists-where the Creator of All resides. You've seen warrior angels."
"Yes," Carlos whispered, tears brimming in his eyes.
"Only those that do not fear even Hell itself, and would walk through it for another soul's salvation can see them. You have done this."
Carlos nodded and swallowed a sob. "For her. Yes."
"You went into Hell for the female Neteru?"
Emotion caught in Carlos's throat as he nodded and tears streamed down his face. "For her and her team... and my brother."
The old man clapped his hands and spun around in a madman's circle. "You were demon once and did this! It is all so clear now!"
"Vampire... a councilman, to be exact," Carlos said, bristling at the memory.
"A dark throne-level demon, recanting power? You chose love overthai ?" the old man asked, astonished. "All for her. And you come to us with Guardians and the Covenant brethren as protection to stand in the sun on hallowed ground... the oldest in the world?" He threw his head back and laughed, opening his arms to the sun.