Chapter 1

Dr. Aodhan m' Cullough could barely keep his eyes off of Her Ladyship after he escorted her past the Xerean guards at the north gate. It'd been decades since he saw her last. Although she was a refined woman just shy of her fiftieth, he easily recognized the wild sprout she'd once been.


Latharna n' Cambeuil had always been a head taller, standing just shy of eight feet, but he'd never felt inferior in her company. They shared the same wiry frame, emerald green eyes, and pale complexion. Only their hair was different. His shoulder blade length braid used to be fire red, now streaked with gray. Her hair, though closely cropped even for a woman, was black as ebony and shiny as a moon-kissed midnight.


She awed him even now, despite the years and in spite of her reason for coming. What could he tell her? What possible words could he express to alleviate her suffering?


"It is good to see you again, Your Ladyship."


She gave him a sideways glance. "So you've forgotten my given name, is that it, Aodhan?"


He smiled. "How could I forget…Latharna?"


A high pitched shriek east of the Institute drew their attention. Three silver Maglev Vipers in V-formation plummeted out of the cerulean sky. The Xerean fighters leveled out over Tidal Bay and streaked across the Institute’s grounds just above the trees. The backwash of turbulent air hurled him and Latharna head over heels, depositing them on a wide expanse of freshly mowed lawn.


The pilots triggered rapid-fire ion pulses. The trilling sound of the fusillade ended with successive explosions that echoed off the hills west of the city.


Aodhan lay sprawled face up. Though slightly dazed, he pushed the hem of his blue-green kilt to his knees and rolled onto his side. He brushed off his waistcoat and knee socks then climbed to his feet.


"My word…what was that?" Her face had lost its color, and she trembled.


He reached for her, and she latched onto his arms as he helped her to her feet. After sweeping bits of mulch from her hair, he answered. “Only the most advanced fighter planes on earth.”


Latharna brushed her blue flowered wrap free of grass and dirt then shook her head as if dislodging water from her ear. She bent slightly and tugged the fabric down on her left calf to cover the tattoo of a fairy riding the letter A. He smiled. Her gift to him all those years ago. She straightened and took a step then stumbled. He grabbed her arm.


"Are you hurt, M'Lady?"


"I think I'll be all right, Aodhan. My sandal's loose is all."


Dropping to one knee, he tightened the thongs that crisscrossed her ankle. How long had it been since he'd knelt before this fetching creature? She'd been his closest childhood confidant until adult responsibilities sent them in different directions. He pushed the thought away, finished the task, and stood.


Three fireballs plumed above the hills a few miles away. Latharna's eyes widened, and her mouth dropped open.


"What is going on? Does this happen often?"


He shrugged. “The insurgents are getting bolder. Perhaps now you see why the Xereans need us."


She scowled and folded her arms. From the beginning, Latharna strongly disapproved of the alliance between the Druidh and Xerea. She'd led the opposition in parliament but lost by a handful of votes.


"I will never trust them, Aodhan. Never."


The Xereans had built the Institute of Metaphysics Research and contracted his people to operate the facility. But after the Druidh arrived, the Xereans invited them to live in enclaves, separated from the rest of the population. A division he welcomed. The less he had to do with that particular species the better.


"M'Lady, the Anthropians are ruled by warlords. At least Xerea is a republic."


The three warplanes returned over the Institute, but this time, at a higher altitude. He craned his neck to watch them pass then offered his arm. Lartharna slid her hand around his elbow and smiled. Their disagreement apparently forgotten.


They hadn't seen each other in decades, but he resisted making eye contact. Instead, he allowed his gaze to sweep the manicured grounds. The dozen red brick research buildings, small village of tract houses, gardens, forest, and cultivated fields on nine hundred acres. His haven for intellectual pursuit in the midst of Xerean chaos outside the razor wire.


Still reluctant to mention her son, he shifted his gaze to the crystal blue sky. "Remember Brighde's cave?"


She sighed. "I remember. Right along the shores of Loch Labhen."


"Remember how huge it seemed when we were children?"


She chuckled. "I do. And Brighde filled the entrance. Tallest woman I'd ever seen."


He closed his eyes for a moment. Brighde had mothered as much as mentored him. She'd had long arms and legs, skinny torso covered in blue muslin, a long neck and pure white hair. A woman of great age. Her face always seemed to glow with a peace that was beyond his understanding.


"Been ages."


She nodded. "Where'd the time go?"


Aodhan opened his eyes and shrugged. The sadness on Latharna's face was obvious. He squared his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath. "You still believe what Brighde taught us?"


She shrugged. "I have my doubts after all these years."


He reached up and placed his hand on her shoulder. "I have no doubts. If anything, my faith in the Creator is stronger than ever."


"Best keep that sort of thing under wraps. If they'd banish an old crone for hearing God's voice, what would they do to you?"


That was the way of it, especially these days. His position as Director of the Institute made it essential he keep his religious beliefs to himself. Otherwise, he'd be on the outside looking in.


"Yes, M'Lovely. You're right."


She blushed. "I haven't been called that in a very long time." A smile slowly lit her face. "Oh, Aodhan, I miss those days. Life was simpler then."


The Maglev Vipers swooped low again, this time causing a flock of massive Terelyn swans to veer over the razor wire. Their silver-blue wings, nine feet long, were swept back as they dove to earth to escape the fighters. Aodhan and Latharna ducked as the flock bottomed out and whizzed over their heads.


One of the swan's wingtips slammed against Aodhan's head as he crouched, sending him sprawling. What next? He gritted his teeth, sat up, and watched the flock land on the shimmering surface of the large pond fifty yards behind them.


Latharna burst into laughter as he pulled the hem of his kilt back to his knees. Aodhan shook his head and stood. First the Xereans, now a flock of swans.


"Better buzzed than bombed, 'ey, Aodhan?"


Her smile suddenly faded, and she seemed to be on the verge of tears. I'd better get this over with.


"I'm genuinely sorry about Coinneach."


Latharna showed him moistened eyes. "You didn't lead the twit to the altar, did you?"


He shook his head and studied his fingernails. Coinneach was a fool.


"You try to rear them to be wise. But this younger generation is full of rebellion. If they think what they're doing will give their elders angina, all the better."


Aodhan sighed. He'd no children of his own, but, as head of the Institute, he sometimes felt like a father. Seemed every year the doctoral candidates applying to the Institute got younger.


"I'm sorry, M'Lady, but rules are rules. Coinneach married a Xerean, and under Xerean law, he must become a citizen."


She scuffed the grass with her sandal. "The moment I heard he'd married a Xerean, I knew Coinneach would be let go. The Institute cannot risk employing staff with dual loyalties."


"I'm sorry."


"What was he thinking, saddling me with a reptilian daughter-in-law?"


He blanched at her openly racist remark. The Xereans might have elongated skulls; flat, wide nostrils; and moist, flaky dermis cells, but they were still hominids.


She kicked a pebble along the sidewalk, her face now beet red. "And all in the name of personal freedom! What a silly notion."


Aodhan grunted. "Personal freedom is overrated." Maybe I'll have a plaque made and hang it on the wall behind my desk. The first lesson to all future candidates.


"You'd think my son would consider his future." She stamped her foot. "Hybridization is wrong! It's evil!"


He tossed his head to throw his long braid behind his shoulder as she dug deep into a pocket in her garment. She pulled out a yellow disc and handed it to him. He turned the disc over. A byte image of the two of them at the carnival where she'd visited the tattoo artist.


"I must return to Gaelithkor. Coinneach will depart with me, but only temporarily. I'm certain he'll be back in Xerea before the next full moon."


"Will you be returning then also?"


She shook her head. "The lad's on his own now."


He touched her arm. "Stay awhile. Have the vespers meal with me."


She cracked a half smile then sniffed. "I'm afraid I'd be less than a suitable dinner companion."


"Have a safe journey." What else can I offer?


Latharna stopped and stroked his hand with her fingertips. "Do you ever get lonely, Aodhan?"


Surprised, he pursed his lips before answering. "I do. It's been nine years since my wife was killed. I don't like being alone."


She smiled. "It's been over twelve for Wyllyym. I still miss him."


Aodhan swallowed the sudden lump that had formed in his throat. He glanced away.


Latharna patted his hand. "I know we'd planned to marry, Aodhan. Only seemed natural after growing up together, but Wyll stole my heart. If it's any consolation, there hasn't been a day in the last twelve years I haven't thought of you."


He arched his brow. "Truly?"


Embracing him, she planted a long kiss on his cheek. "Don't get eaten by the reptiles."


He chuckled. "I'll watch my step."


She dropped her arms and straightened her back. Latharna had become Her Ladyship again. "It was good to see you, Dr. Cullough."


He bowed. "Likewise, Lady Cambeuil. I only wish it had been under better circumstances."


The Matriarch of Gaelithkor Province turned and strode toward the dormitory nearest the razor wire where her son waited. Latharna's pride obviously would not allow her to look back.


The jolting high-pitched whine of ion accelerators drew Aodhan's attention to the eastern gate.

Two Xerean guards fired additional energy bursts above the head of a woman approaching them on foot. She appeared to be an Anthropian slave. She slowed her pace but continued to follow the zigzag path between the concrete dividers.


Dressed in the hajib common among Anthrops from the area adjoining the Median Sea. She held out her hands, palms up.


A fleeting memory jolted him. "Latharna! Get down!"


She glanced back then ducked into the building. Suddenly, a brilliant flash consumed the woman, the guards, the gate…and the dormitory's eastern wall.


The shock wave threw Aodhan to his knees. He screamed. "Please, God! NO!"

The Isles of Myst

Welcome to the year PE 2255 and a technologically advanced world of diverse hominid species, a corrupt earth filled with violence, advanced weaponry, slavery and extreme misogyny.

The Director of the Institute of Metaphysical Research Aodhan m' Cullough. is one of the few people left on earth who believes in the Creator. When his plans for an alternative energy source are stolen, a source without the limitations inherent in converting the earth's magnetic field into usuable power, he knows that if he can't retrieve those plans, somebody will use them to create the ultimate weapon, one that could precipitate an ecological disaster of unimaginable scope.

The greatest military force in the world, The Army of the Xerean Republic, has tried, and failed to retreive the schematics, returning instead with plans for an old-style cold fusion reactor. Aodhan is forced to accept the help of the Mystics of Utlan. Although he grew up in Utlan, he rejects their worship of pagan goddesses and is an outcast. His mother is the High Priestess of the Sisterhood, and he's refused to set foot in Utlan since graduating from university.

After being briefly trained for four months in the Mystic Arts, he travels to the eastern continent and learns essential truths about hominid nature, about women, slavery, God, and ultimately, about himself.