Death of an Adept

"Well," Peregrine said, still frowning, "assuming that they are the legitimate heirs to Britain's pagan heritage, how is it that someone like Taliere can use those same beliefs and practices as the basis for invoking the powers of evil?"

"In other words," Adam said, "you want to know how Graham and Taliere can be opposed to one another while appearing to venerate the same things."

Peregrine nodded.

"A fair question," Adam replied. "I would say that the explanation probably lies in the human capacity for self-delusion - and in the equally human capacity for endowing those delusions with power. It's quite literally true that evil men have it in them to create their own demons. And these demons are no less demonic for being given sacred names - quite the reverse, in fact. This confusion of identity extends even to the Great Ones who preside over the enlightened realms of the Inner Planes."

At Peregrine's look of question, he went on.

"Think of the four great entities we call Gabriel, Michael, Raphael, and Uriel. Theologians will tell you that these beings we call archangels sprang forth from the mind of God in the same instant of Divine Thought which created the universe itself. As messengers of God and viceroys of the elements, they have been given many names down through the ages.

"Some cultures, in the absence of direct revelation, came to venerate these messengers as gods in their own right, projecting onto them a whole range of human errors and frailties. In time, fuelled by the power of belief, those projections developed a shadowy half-life of their own, so that it has become difficult for a great many people to distinguish the true Powers from their manufactured counterparts.

"Taliere probably thinks he's venerating the old gods of ancient Britain," he concluded, "but in fact I suspect he's worshipping only an autonomous projection of his forebears' inner darkness. It's a common misconception - and not one confined to latter-day pagans."

Peregrine rubbed the end of his nose reflectively. "Are you saying that this ancient deity Taranis, whom Taliere purports to serve, exists only as a shadowy analogue to one of the archangels?"

"That doesn't make him or it any less real," Adam replied. "Never forget that. And the more people who embrace the illusion, the stronger it becomes - until eventually, it can take on physical substance. That's why we have to stop Raeburn. And to do that, we have to find him - the sooner, the better."

Chapter Twenty-Three

"I think this is going to be one of the best portraits you've ever done, darling," Julia remarked admiringly as she peered over her husband's shoulder. "I can't wait to see what it will look like when you get the dress fully painted in."

Peregrine smiled and turned his head to plant a kiss on her hand where it rested on his shoulder, pausing to take more paint onto his brush before returning his attention to the canvas. Thereon was limned the first sketchy outline of a bridal portrait of Ximena, only the face approaching completion. The gossamer suggestion of a veil of Spanish lace fell softly about her head and shoulders, supported by a sparkling diamond tiara, as delicate as frost. The dress, as yet, was little more than a sketchy hint of ivory satin and lace, but the face taking shape in the portrait was already a faithful reflection of Ximena herself, dark eyes brimming with warmth and excitement, lips trembling on the brink of a smile.

"Where's that hot chocolate, woman?" Peregrine asked with mock ferocity. "How do you expect a man to paint on a night like this without fuel?"

The Lovats were together in the kitchen of the gate lodge at Strathmourne, where Julia had just set a pan of milk to warm on the top of the Aga. Though Peregrine rarely painted downstairs, preferring his upstairs studio where he could work by natural daylight, the shortness of the Scottish winter day, coupled with a recent increase in commissions, had prompted him to experiment with a new high-intensity light bulb designed to simulate a daylight effect. As luck would have it, the only light fixture able to accommodate the wattage was located in the kitchen, which had recently been rewired. The initial results had proved satisfactory, however, and Peregrine had since discovered that working in the kitchen had compensations other than being able to work on past nightfall.

Laughing, Julia drifted away to add cocoa and sugar to the warming milk, before returning to her husband's side.

"The tiara really is lovely," she commented. "Is it true that it's been in the Sinclair family since the reign of Queen Victoria?"

"So Philippa says," Peregrine returned, with a fleeting smile. "Apparently most of the diamonds were presented to Adam's great-grandfather by an Indian maharajah, in gratitude for military and diplomatic services rendered. He had them made into a tiara for his wife, and since then every Sinclair wife and daughter has worn it to the altar, including Philippa herself."