THE 33 KEYS: Key 2 - ANSWER THE CALL "Listen for that Perfect Beat"

CHAPTER 91: THE RED THRONE

"Where am I?" I cry out.

"Relax, Mary," she whispers. "It's just you and me in here."

"I can see that," I retort. "But what is this place?"

"A safe space where those I approve of can find rest," she explains.

As usual, my facial expression doesn't even hide the fact that I need more.

"We call it the Feel Room," she continues. "This will keep everything in place until I return."

"Okay. But why are we here?"

"To have a little chat."

"More talking?"

"It never hurts to clear things up."

"Well, I can certainly think of one thing that needs clearing up right now."

"You already know who I am. And if not, it will eventually come to you."

"Is that all I'm going to get? Man, you people have been treating me like a child all day."

"Let's begin the ritual," she says dismissively. "To proceed, you'll need your feet and throat."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You drum the floor with your feet and pull random rhythms from your throat."

"Like how Ebony wrote her songs?"

"Yes, like Ebony did," she says half-heartedly. "Now remember; it's anti-clockwise."

"I remember."

"Start walking."

At first I feel absolutely nothing. Then emotions run through me and make my feet slightly magnetize to the ground. Now they stomp the floor uncomfortably, one beat at a time; then faster until a sound oils my throat. It's a sharp hmmm at first. But once it warms up it grows into a deeper one that has known pain.

Now I become a bass drum whose rhythm soon finds a friend in my feet. And the hmmms go one in, two out, until my body rocks back and forth with each round. It seems to be tuning into my vibration to endure a long journey, forcing the symbols beneath my feet to stand up and take notice. Because somehow it can feel a new frequency coming on. And when it can no longer elude the sensations, each of the nine etched triangles within the seal lights up.

"Good," she says. "Now lie down in the middle of the circle."

"Now what?" I say after obeying.

"Draw each bit of moonlight from those triangles to you. It's yours. Now take it back!"

"How?"

"Use your throat. Create a black hat. Then suck it all in."

As usual, this makes absolutely no sense to me. But maybe if I wait for her words to soak in something will sound feasible. In the meantime, I assess my predicament using the wisdom I got from certain books. True, I can no longer use my feet to draw power up from the ground. But everyone knows that there's always more than one way to get things done. And my way is to let both soles touch. This way I can still use what was stored there from each round of walking. Problem solved, I readjust my hmmms to suit my new position.

Yes, Mary! You can do this.

And I let those final words be the music to my motivation. Then one by one, I really become the moon and suck each light dry. When I'm done, she enters the circle and drags me up, silver wings growing out from her back, beautiful and mighty. She uses them now to lock me in an embrace.

"My daughter, I approve of you, and will stand with you until this prophecy is fulfilled!"

Then the bracelets on my wrists heat up. When I look down, they are each engraved with a shen. And when I look up, I am alone, feeling this deep sense of loss and wonderment. For she left me with so many questions. And I need all the answers right now.

For instance, why on earth would the serpent call me her daughter when everyone knows I belong to Ebony? At the very least, she needs to return and provide me with that truth.

"One more thing before I go," she startles me out of my wits.

"What's that?" I whisper.

In response, the serpent woman blinds me with her palms.

"This is only for your eyes, Mary. Tell me. What do you see?

"I see a red throne."

"And now?"

She presses down harder.

"It's almost as though its paint is softening. Pulling away. Separating itself somehow."

"What else do you see?"

"The throne's still red but the paint is bubbling. Growing even. Rising like a volcano now."

"Look closer."

"I am. But you're hurting my eyes," I protest.

"Forget the damn pain, Mary! Focus on what the red throne wants you to see."

"Okay," I say perturbed. "It's forming into a body. Not sure if it's a man or woman."

"And how about now?"

"It's melting. Falling into some sort of V pattern," I say in awe. "Now it's rising again."

"Good. I think you've seen enough for now."

"What the hell!" I say after she relaxes her grip. "Well, I need more. At least tell me why?"

"You saw a body rising and falling. What's left to explain?"

"Bodies don't just grow out of chairs. How about we start there?"

"What do you think it means?" she counters. "Answer well and maybe I'll add to it."

"I don't know. Death, maybe?"

"Then why is it rising after a fall? Shouldn't it just end with the first fall?"

"Maybe in the real world. But around here you people like to play with reality."

She laughs.

"Or it could mean that every time someone rises another one falls."

"Now it's my turn to laugh."

"No doubt you have a better explanation this time."

"People only leave clues to what's unanswered. And for me, that's many things. But let's start with that third level in the hierarchy I asked about. Your big fat secret."

"You think the red throne represents that third level?"

"Intuition says it does. Tell me I'm wrong. I dare you."

"You're right! But I won't let you bully anything else out of me."

"Why'd you show it to me then?"

"Because sometimes when you give a person what they long for most, you get to benefit from their gratitude for as long as they live," she replies coyly.

"What on earth?"

"Now, Mary. Now you can leave."