5.

I SPY.

The funeral service was held on the dwindling Isle of Anglesey, at the site of Miles and Tory's last major project, the restored temple of the Goddess.

Miles and Tory's cottage by the seaside on Anglesey had long since been lost to the rising seas. But the mountains around the valley at Lynn Cerrig Bach still protected the sacred site.

From the temple it was a short walk up the mountainside to the cliffs overlooking the sea. Here the Professor's ashes were to be scattered to the four winds, over the submerged land where Miles had been born and raised.

Ray remained on board the Goddess, which was moored near the new Menai Bridge, on the Anglesey side.

Everyone else went to the service, including Noah. He was still hanging around as he reckoned he could sense a story in the wind. Noah didn't feel right hassleing Tory about a job, present curcumstances being as they were.

Still, until she gave him her final answer, he wasn't going anywhere.

What was planned as a small family affair ended up looking more like a holy pilgrimage. The High Druids, the custodians of the temple, performed a beautiful pagan service. Scholars and students came from all over Britain and England to pay Professor Thurlow homage, along with the two hundred or so students whose lives he'd helped save during the most recent disaster.

The UN had representatives from the ICA present.

Even Doc Alexander made an appearance to pay his condolences.

Needless to say, Noah got his scoop.

Although the diplomat had been watching Tory from behind his dark sunglasses throughout the service, once it was over, he waited until most of the other mourners had offered Tory their sympathies before he approached her.

'Mrs Thurlow. I'm -'

'I know who you are,' Tory informed him, her bitterness plain in her tone. 'You were the last person to see my husband alive.'

'Yes ma'am.' He removed his sunglasses and bowed his head sorrowfully. 'To my deep regret, that is true.

But his last thoughts were of you, and your daughter. If there is anything I can do, I -'

'There is nothing, thank you.' Tory forced a grim smile, and patted his hand. Why should she leave this young man feeling responsible? Miles had been nearly sixty, after all.

Just that brief touch told Doc so much. He replaced his dark glasses to watch Tory depart. 'Well, who would have thought?' he mused. He gave half a laugh, motioning one of his associates to approach.

The real surprise visitor amongst the mourners gathered at the burial site was Walter Cadfan.

He, too, had read the article on 'The Goddess and the Sea-monster' that named Mrs Miles Thurlow as Professor Alexander's daughter. He'd finally found her: Tory Alexander. The Goddess of legend, the great mother, warrior, and leader of men.

'Lady.' He reached out of a crowd of people to gently take hold of her arm and gain her attention. 'You don't know me -'

'Of course we do.' Rhiannon was pleased to meet him. 'You are Walter Cadfan. We've been following your work with great interest.'

'Thank you, I've been following your work very closely too,' he told her.

Tory noted that a crowd of calm, smiling people had enclosed them while they were in conversation with the guru, acting as a human shield. Cadfan took hold of Tory's hands, and although Tory had never met the man before, either in this life or in any other, for some reason she felt very comfortable with him. It almost seemed as if he were kindred.

'Please do not be alarmed when I tell you what I must.' Cadfan's large soulful eyes of hazel had shifted back to Tory. 'A voice from the spirit-world gave me a message for thee.' He broke into Brythanic to deliver it.

'Do not grieve too much, for thou art well aware thy husband lives on in the body of another, and thou art never far from his thoughts.'

Tory gasped, holding her hands to her face to hide her shock.

'All the eyes of the world art upon thee now, but thee must stay hidden, for the Gathering is not yet nigh. The means to avoid those who would persecute thee lies in the old land, as surely as thee will find sanctuary in the heart of thy homeland.'

Tory looked at him directly. 'Did this spirit have a name?'

Cadfan nodded, 'Surely. The Dragon of the Isle.'

Cadfan did not linger long, though his words most certainly did.

In the cab on the way back to their vessel's mooring, Tory revised what the prophet had said about the Old Land and her homeland. Funnily enough, the land down under had been spared from the natural disasters the Earth was experiencing. In fact, Australia was prospering more than ever before - proving it truly was a lucky country.

Her mind then turned to the Dragon of the Isle, and the day they'd met; Maelgwn had been but a Prince then, wild and charming. She lay her head to rest against the back of the seat, for she felt his essence descend on her in waves. His energy, his scent, was all around her, so Tory closed her eyes to quietly enjoy the calming and arousing effect of his memory.

Her blissful state was short-lived, as her next thought was of the first time she'd met Miles. She really hadn't liked the sceptical young professor very much.

But, as Miles and Maelgwn were one and the same soulmind, Tory couldn't help but fall for him.

The incarnation is gone, but the soul lives on. She sniffled back the tears that were welling for the umpteenth time today. We'll meet again ... Goddess, make it soon.

When the funeral party returned to the Goddess, they found her abandoned; Ray and his suitcase were gone.

They did an extensive search of the craft, until Teo and Brian started pouring drinks at the bar in the rec-room. Everyone gathered there to ponder what might have become of the missing engineer.

'Do you think they caught up with him?' Rhiannon whispered to her mother on the quiet.

Even over the din of speculation already flying around the room, Noah managed to overhear her. 'Who is they? ' He passed their drinks on from the barman as an excuse to get in on their conversation.

'The ICA,' Tory informed him. It didn't seem to matter if Noah found out now.

'What!' He freaked out. 'You had a fugitive from the ICA on board and I didn't find out about it?'

'Well, it wasn't really something I wanted showing up in National Geographic.' Tory had a long gulp of her drink.

'I'm deeply wounded, madam.' He covered his heart with both hands, and staggered back a few paces. 'I would never betray you in such a fashion.'

'And Ray?' Tory put forward.

'Hey, Ray's a little nuts, I'll grant. But I would no sooner betray a friend of yours, than I would you.'

'You really want a job, don't you?' Tory guessed this to be the motivation behind the heartfelt confession.

'Yeah, yeah, yeah.' He played along like an obedient puppy, whimpering and begging for attention.

'Alright,' Tory announced with a smile.

Noah clapped his hands. 'Bonus!'

'Wait ... there is a condition.'

The young reporter quietened immediately, brushing his straggly blonde hair behind his ears and giving Tory his complete attention. 'Yes, boss.'

This made Tory smile, and she appreciated it.

'Nothing you see, shoot, read, hear, or record on this vessel is to be repeated in any way, shape, or form without my say-so.'

'Yes, boss.' He rubbed his hands briskly, appearing most pleased with himself. 'So then. Do you think the ICA had a hand in Ray's mysterious disappearance?'

Tory winced as she answered. 'How could they know, or even suspect, where he was? If they'd seen him board, they would have reclaimed him weeks ago.'

'Could your husband have said something?' Noah's naturally curious mind was already hard at work, running through the logical possibilities.

Tory shook her head. 'At the time he left, he thought Ray was you, a reporter.'

'Well, some of their agents were at the funeral today.' Noah put forward his second theory. 'Did you say anything around them?'

'Noah, if you haven't found out about Ray and you've been living with us for a month, do you think I'd manage to blow his cover in less than a day?'

'My mistake.' Noah bowed out.

'The only person you even spoke to was that Alexander bloke.' Rhiannon chewed her long thumbnail as she recalled the scene. 'And he was quite a babe, really.' She raised both eyebrows and grinned.

'Well, he gave me the creeps.' Tory shivered.

'Something about the way he was looking at us.'

Her memory of Doc Alexander got Tory to wondering about him. She excused herself from her friends and family on the premise that she needed to rest awhile.

'Mum, are you alright?'

Rhiannon entered Tory's bedchamber only moments after Tory had arrived there herself.

'Mother!' Rhiannon crashed against the door to close it, stunned by the transformation.

'You think it's too much?'

Her mother's eyes had turned a pale-blue colour, like ice, and her skin was the shade of dark copper. Her golden blonde hair had gone snow-white and, although it still fell to her behind, it was shaved on both sides, Mohican style. She wore black leather chaps over jeans, like a cowboy, and steel-capped boots. A black singlet and vest exposed her muscular arms and the silver bands clamped around them. It looked as if her mother was going to a New York gang war.

'You're going after Ray, aren't you?'

'Do you think anyone will recognise me?' Tory perused her dark make-up in the mirror, then placed the silver, gold and orichalchum headband upon her brow.

'I'm coming with you.'

'Baby, I can't transport both you and Ray at the same time.' Tory pulled on her leather gloves.

'But I can transport myself. I've been practising.'

Rhiannon was nearly begging now.

'Could you still focus with someone firing bullets at you?' Tory proffered.

'You know I could.' She took a step away. 'And I haven't forgotten how to play dress-up either.'

Rhiannon closed her eyes to be creative. Her mother had often played this game with her as a child.

Although it had seemed nothing but harmless fun and a big secret at the time, Rhiannon realised later in life that it had been training.

Moments later, Rhiannon was completely bald, bar a long ponytail of bright red that shot from her crown.

Her face and most of her body was tattooed with a black Pictish style war-motif. Rhiannon's choice of attire was much like her mother's, only she wore shorts and a red singlet to match her hair.

'Truly gross!' Tory shook her head. What kind of a girl had she raised? 'I think the nose ring is a bit much though.'

'What? You don't like it?' Rhiannon admired her hideous reflection.

'What if somebody rips it out?'

Rhiannon didn't seem to find this notion a very pretty one. 'You're right, it's got to go.'

' What in hell's name are you two doing?'

Brian was hoisted into the room by both women, being hushed in the process.

'You're just the person I need to see.' Tory informed him, keeping her voice low.

'Really?' quizzed Brian, frowning. 'Who are you?'

'Very funny.' Tory gave him a whack. 'I'm serious, we're in a spot of bother, I'm afraid.'

Brian cocked an eye. He'd suspected there was more to their fancy dress than some weird mourning ritual.

'You'd best spill it, then.'

Tory levelled with Brian about Ray, about her vision and the part she believed the technologist had to play in it. Then she told of what Walter Cadfan had said.

'The Goddess is a grand vessel, and a safe haven. But there are still so many things she can't do. If she had land and air capabilities, as well as a decent cloaking device, then we'd surely be one up on our foe.'

'What foe?' Brian objected. 'If we get involved in this, Tory, we'll be outlaws.'

'Brian, don't you see? If a higher force has sent Ray to me, it's not without good reason. I believe I must take him back to the Old Land, to find a means to protect us all.'