Dark Company by Natale Ghent Read Free Book Online Page A

members sat side by side, their golden energy radiating around them. Meg counted eight additional silver beings at the foot of the stage, each carrying a tall pole bearing a coloured flag. There were eight flags in all: violet, indigo, blue, green, yellow, orange, red and white. Meg didn’t like the look of this. What were they expecting her to do?
    The silver being happily explained. “When you feel the call, you must go to the flag-bearer who carries the colour of your vibration. Then you will know for certain what Frequency you belong to.” It held its hand up, anticipating her next question. “Each colour has a unique vibratory Frequency. The colours you see here belong to the order of Spectrals—or single wavelength beings. They are the core Frequencies that make up the spectrum of Light.”
    “Are you a Spectral?” Meg asked.
    “Of course not,” the being said. “I am a Metallic—something entirely different.”
    “But how can all these recruits fit into so few categories? And how will I know when I’m called?”
    “They fit,” the being assured her. “And you will know. You will feel the call inside you and join your rightful Frequency among the Spectrals.”
    A trumpet sounded, and a profound hush fell over the crowd. From the wings of the great room, a magnificent being appeared. It looked similar to the silver and gold beings in features, but was taller and possessed an iridescence unlike any other. It was every colour, and none, like mother-of-pearl, or some kind of lustrous fabric.
    “The Prism,” the silver being said. “This being has the ability to vibrate at every frequency. It is unique in its purpose. There is only one.”
    “Is he the guy in charge?” Meg asked.
    The being gave her a look. “In charge? No one being is in charge here. We are a collective.”
    “Oh,” Meg said. She didn’t really care anyway. She was just being polite.
    The Prism glided to the stage. Drafting behind it were two silver beings carrying an instrument that looked like a series of tuning forks stuck together, eight in all. They positioned the instrument on the podium. Without further ado, the Prism raised a delicate silver mallet and tapped the smallest fork. A clear, high note, like the song of a bird, filled the room. Meg felt nothing. The Prism’s colour changed to a deep shade of violet. The corresponding flag began to flap and within the crowd, thousands of recruits responded to the sound. They glided toward the stage and changed colour, glowing with a violet light. Meg watched with nervous fascination as a shower of glittering stars appeared from nowhere and twinkled over the recruits. “What’s that?” she asked.
    “The Light of Corometh,” the silver being said. It joins the members of a Frequency together. This group of recruits is now bound to one another, as the members of other frequencies are bound to their own kind. It helps them in their work.”
    “What do the purple ones do?”
    “They are Chroniclers, Keepers of the Charts.”
    “What charts?”
    “Blueprints—maps of every individual life that ever lived and ever will live.”
    This caught Meg’s attention. Could she search the charts for memories of her life before this time? Would she be able to find the boy? She promised herself, the first chance she got, she wouldsearch the charts for him. If only she could do it right now and forget this initiation stuff altogether. The silver being sensed her agitation, though it mistook the source.
    “Rest your mind,” it said. “In time you will not have to think. You will simply know.”
    The tuning fork finished sounding and the Prism returned to its original colour. The room fell silent and the next fork was struck. A ringing filled the air, lower than the first, yet no less pure. The Prism turned indigo and the corresponding flag waved. Thousands more recruits vibrated to this sound and moved toward the stage. Their robes turned indigo and the Light of Corometh sparkled over