It occurred to him that this might be one of those unearthly spirits Taliesin had warned him about. Noah's heart starting pumping so fiercely the beat resounded in his ears. 'Who ... who ... who are you?'

I am you ... or rather I am one of the many yous you have been.

'Selwyn!'

Capital guess.

'W ... w ... why are you here?'

Please calm down, the voice was heard to chuckle.

I'm here to help you. Has the great Queen of Gwynedd never mentioned me?

'Yes.' Noah relaxed, having figured out that Tory was the great Queen to whom Selwyn referred. 'She has spoken of you often. She claimed I was you, you were me ... whatever.'

And that is the plain truth of it, Selwyn assured Noah.

I am here to help you remember all that you have known, so that you can become all that you are capable of being.

Which brings us back to my original request for you to go the library.

'I'm not going exploring in here!'

I know the way, Selwyn insisted, and Taliesin won't mind so long as I am guiding you. Noah was still hesitant, so Selwyn added: My entire life's work is contained therein.

Noah had read various interpretations of the Merlin's work - the few rare extracts that still survived in the twenty-first century. But to read the renowned Druid's complete works could only be compared to finding the Dead Sea Scrolls.

'Everything you ever wrote?' Noah nibbled at the bait.

Not only my histories, but Taliesin's as well.

Noah needed no more coaxing. He retrived his folder and pen and was out the door.

At the end of the corridor he came to one of the main hallways. To the left, this went into a maze of corridors and doors; to the right it led to a similar architectural jungle of stairs and doors. Selwyn directed Noah towards some nearby stairs.

Up, Noah was told, as he contemplated the nightmarish feat of engineering. He ignored the instruction momentarily and leaned out over the polished timber railing to discover that the maze of stairs, doorways, archways, open chambers, walkways and hallways twisted to infinity both above and below. 'My God, are you sure you know where you're taking me?'

As surely as I know that you shall be the eyes, ears, and memory of a whole new generation of thinkers.

'Is that supposed to reassure me?' Noah thought the claim ridiculous, especially since Tory had forbidden him to ever publish the story that was based on her adventures and family tree.

Again Selwyn was amused by Noah's reckoning. You know the clan of the Dragon are capable of such feats, so why not you? After all, you are one of them.

'In an honorary sense, perhaps.' Noah released a heavy sigh. He felt so inadequate next to his crewmates who, literally, were changing the world. All he could do was record their acts, and hope that he lived long enough to finish the story.

No, Selwyn replied. You are related in an actual sense, Noah - a distant descendant of the Dragon's line. The blood of the serpent pumps in your veins. Thus you have also inherited the vital gene that sets you apart as one of the Chosen.

Noah's legs went from beneath him and he found himself on the floor. Here he was being told that his greatest hope had come to pass. Could he dare to believe it was true? 'You're toying with me,' he decided.

If this spirit was in his head, then surely it knew his desires and was using them to manipulate him.

Oh dear, Selwyn sighed, sounding most disappointed. Are you so afraid to believe that you are powerful beyond measure? Or is it that you will fantasise about greatness, but when it comes down to it, you'd prefer to leave the real achieving to others?

'That certainly is not it!' Noah got to his feet, insulted. 'Even if you are lying about the immortality thing, I will still do all I can to aid the Dragon's cause.'

Then do it by going up the stairs and to your left.

At the top Noah passed through an ornate gazebo, and then down another set of stairs to a mahogany timber archway. This adorned the entrance to a circular, domed room of pure white marble. The fountain that sprang from the floor in the centre of the foyer had been sculpted in the form of a cauldron - the cauldron of knowledge. Scented water sprouted from the top of several large chunks of quartz crystal that formed the central feature of the fountain over which the water flowed.

Wash your hands and forehead, Selwyn instructed.

'They're not dirty,' Naoh insisted, having looked his hands over.

Physically, no. But spiritually and mentally, yes, you need cleansing.

'Alright ... if you say so.' Noah gave in easily, eager to touch the inviting piece of art.

The pool was bathed in a white light, which seemingly emanated from the crystals in the centre.

Cool and smooth to the touch, the quartz pulsated with energy. The sweet, silky water flowing over this formation was so soothing to Noah's hands and head that he considered tossing his whole body in. 'Wow.' He sniffed at himself, having shaken off the excess water.

'What's that smell? It's so ... invigorating!'

Bergamot - the scholar's scent. Now you are ready for the library ...

The huge, twin doors parted before Noah, who was far too curious to fear the force that was opening the way for him. All he could see were the miles of book-crammed shelves that lay within the room, and the desks piled high with parchments and scrolls.

'Paradise,' uttered the writer, as the doors closed behind him.

There was a small desk amidst the larger tables that drew Noah's attention at once. It had several jars of coloured ink on it, all lined up, with quills of matching colour. He reached for the parchment on the desk, and was disappointed to find he could not read a word of it.

Fear not, Selwyn offered. I shall translate. It reads: This be the last will and testament of Selwyn, Chief Bard to the Court and the Kings of Powys. I have placed all my writings in the safe keeping of Taliesin Pen Beirdd, High Merlin of Britain, in the hope that he will see my work into the hands of my Chosen incarnation for completion at the time of the Gathering. I trust that this shall be to my liking, Sincerely thine, Thy sixth century incarnation, Selwyn.

Noah's eyes filled with tears. He no longer doubted the veracity of this spirit anymore, nor his translation of the ancient script. 'You truly are me. I would have done exactly the same thing!' He gave half a laugh at how ingenious he, they, were.

Noah, my good lad, you don't even know the half of it.

As hard as Doc concentrated on willing himself to Cadfan and Haze, his efforts proved fruitless. It was as if the men he sought had vanished from creation, along with the rest of Rhiannon's kindred.

'This is useless.' He gave up after hours of trying.

'Your friends must be shielding them.'

Rhiannon only shrugged, as she certainly knew nothing about it.

'Well, say something!' Doc was being demanding, as they were alone in the marquee.

'I say we leave,' she stated bluntly. 'There's going to be an earthquake.'

'How the hell do you know that?'

Rhiannon uncrossed her legs and removed them from the banquet table. 'One of my attackers told me, and the way I see it, he had no reason to lie.'

'Are you daft? Of course he wants us to leave, then it will look as if we're going along with this outrageous scenario they've created.'

'Oh, give it up, Doc!' Rhiannon lectured him. 'Is it any more outrageous than the Messiah you created?

What do you care if Cadfan's gone. You don't need him any more. You have to tell the people remaining here to leave - they'll listen to you.'

'I will do no such thing. What if you're wrong about the earthquake? Then I'll look a fool.'

Rhiannon grabbed hold of her husband's arm on his way out of the marquee. 'But if they're telling the truth, these people will have you to thank for their lives.'

Rhiannon expanded on her theme: 'Say Cadfan has spoken with you, and issued you a warning. I mean, Jesus kept in contact with his disciples, so why not Cadfan?'

'Indeed, two can play at this game.' Doc smiled as he suddenly realised how easily this disaster might be twisted to his advantage. He didn't have to worry about containing the prophet any more, and Cadfan wouldn't dare show up in public, so there was no chance of him refuting any of the propaganda they chose to create in his wake. 'If I could only be sure your friend was telling the truth.'

'Trust me,' Rhiannon insisted, knowing the informant was her brother. 'He was telling the truth.'

A helicopter was standing by to whisk them away after Doc made the announcement. But no sooner had he said his piece, than the Earth began to tremble. In the midst of the turmoil of panicked people, and the commotion caused by the stage scaffold collapsing, Doc's security team still managed to have their boss and his wife in the air within minutes.

From their bird's-eye view, the extent of the quake was much more obvious. The mountains had become walls of tumbling rock, while the barren floor of the valley was cracking and falling away, claiming many souls in the process.

'More of your kin's handiwork?' Doc sneered. 'That would seem to explain why they were so certain the disaster would come to pass.'

'It is more likely they had a vision,' Rhiannon retorted, feeling sure her mother would never knowingly kill so many people.

'Then Cadfan would have had the premonition, too.

Am I right?' Doc was following her train of thought, and felt it naive. 'Rhiannon, your mother was hailed as a warrior where I come from - just how do you think she got such a title? It wasn't for being compassionate, I can tell you. So don't kid yourself. Tory Alexander has killed for the Dragon's cause before.'

'My kindred do not have the means to cause a disaster like this! Lights in the sky is one thing; movement in the Earth's crust is something else again.'

Doc shook his head, unable to believe how misinformed she was. 'Taliesin Pen Beirdd can incite nature spirits to war on his behalf! I have seen it! He has friends in realms beyond our wildest imagination.

Something like this,' Doc motioned to the devastation below them, 'would be no more difficult for the Merlin than a walk in the park, if he, or those he serves, wanted the problem ended.'

There was no point in arguing with him, Rhiannon realised. Doc's tone said it all. 'You still despise them don't you?'

'Yes, I despise them,' he agreed. 'This is not the first time I have seen their indifferent form of malice.' Doc's mood darkened. His time as Cadwaladr often came back to taunt him. 'I am remembered as the King who lost half of Britain, and why? Because I didn't have any assistance - no mystical adviser to guide my way through all the treachery to greatness. Maelgwn, Rhun, Cadwell, Cadfan, Cadwallon, oh yes, they were legendary. But not I. Oh no, I was left to take the rap for one of the bloodiest massacres the motherland has ever seen.'

'But they didn't know that,' Rhiannon appealed.

'They didn't care,' he snapped. Doc's tolerance for the subject was at an end.

Rhiannon knew that, deep down, it was the fact of being thwarted that was really angering Doc and not the loss of human life that they'd just witnessed. But she also knew he was convinced that her kin were responsible for all the day's events, giving him all the more reason to hate them. It had been foolish of her to believe she had smoothed over the feud with a few well-chosen words. His resentment of them ran deeper than his love for her, and Rhiannon realised that nothing she could say or do was going to change his view of the past.

At the vigil around Cadfan, the atmosphere stripped away Tory's grief and threw her headlong into a state of complete ecstasy.

This mini-gathering of the tribe of immortals was the single greatest multicultural event Tory had ever experienced. Black, white, red, yellow, whatever - all mingled together in perfect harmony like the designs of the Aboriginal people's sacred Churingas.

No one had any problems communicating via telepathy. Tory sang and danced to the chants of every native tongue of the Earth, and understood the significance of every word and movement.

There was a constant circle of twenty-four people around Walter and Patrick, and there was no shortage of reserves to step into their place. The guests spilled over into the first adjoining hallway of Taliesin's maze, inhabiting certain rooms which the Merlin had opened up to accommodate them throughout their stay. The whole affair was reminiscent of an indigenous indoor Woodstock, where the chance to mingle was as exciting as participating in the event itself.

Upon completion of a six-hour shift in the inner circle, Tory and Rhun meandered down the hallway from the vigil room in search of refreshment. Their path was strewn with the bodies of other guests who cheered the pair for their stamina.

'I sure hope that's water,' Tory muttered as she spied Taliesin approaching with a pitcher and two large goblets.

'What a vast improvement,' he commented to Tory, as he watched her swallow the water down. 'You are positively radiant.'

Tory winked at him as she passed the empty goblet back. 'I haven't experienced a natural buzz of this magnitude since the day I wed Maelgwn. Hell, I feel like nothing could ever bring me down again.'

'Unconditional giving is a marvellous thing,' the Merlin said. 'When you expect nothing in return for your efforts, anything you receive is a bonus.'

'Hey, how's it going guys?' Noah wandered out of the depths of the labyrinth and into the festivities, gripping an old scroll in one hand.

'Noah!' Tory could have hit herself. 'I'm so sorry.

Did nobody come to fetch you?'

'No apologies necessary,' he assured her. 'Taliesin came and found me in the library, where I was going through my old writings. Selwyn says hi, by the way.'

Without further explanation Noah turned his attention to Taliesin, unrolling the scroll in his hand. 'This must be one of yours. Selwyn doesn't understand the language.'

'Well, that isn't any wonder, because it's Atlantean,'

the Merlin explained. 'We'll have to get you in touch with your past incarnation Seth, as this is one of the works he left for you.'

'Excellent.' Noah was again stoked by his own foresight. 'Selwyn was right. I don't know the half of it.'

'You will. By the time of the Gathering, you will understand everything.'

Noah was gratified to know that he'd certainly be there, and with this thought he turned to Tory to offer his condolences. 'I was sorry to hear about Ray. Taliesin told me what happened. He'll be sorely missed.'

'Yes, he will,' Tory confirmed, 'till next we meet.'

'Hear, hear ...' Taliesin materialised a pitcher of mead and two more goblets, so that they might toast this sentiment.

While Taliesin filled the goblets, Tory looked from him to Noah to Rhun. The four of them had quite a history together. 'This scene is awfully familiar. It seems the four of us are always left guarding the fort.'

'And, as always, we shall do a fine job of it, until the reinforcements arrive,' Rhun announced with cheer, having regained a little of his cocky attitude.

'To the Gathering then,' Taliesin announced, raising his goblet in the air.

'The Gathering!'

Their goblets met in a clash of metal and they drank to the future - to the loves, friends and adventures that awaited them there.