again, I’ll remind you, is within my power.”
In the pit of her stomach, Hathor felt the
guilt of not sharing the relocation plans with all of the Council
members. But the vision she had. . . had been haunting. It wasn’t
just that the Council would ultimately argue and never agree on a
location. She saw that if she involved them all, it would cause a
rift in the Council of the Zodiac and break it apart. Her visions
didn’t reveal to her all the intricacies of an event, but she knew
that if she chose to involve all of the Coven leaders, their
Council would split in two. She hoped her actions would circumvent
that fate. But Hathor knew better than anyone—you can never really
escape fate.
“This may come as a surprise,” said Hathor,
“but I do not believe our entire clan should relocate together.
History often repeats itself. I don’t want us to move only to find
us threatened again. While there is strength in numbers, our race
as a whole has grown too large to remain unified in one place. It
is amazing that Tentyris has existed for this long without the
outside humans understanding what we are and what we can do.
Granted, we have gone to great lengths to achieve that. I have
thought long and hard, and I am recommending that your respective
Covens relocate permanently to places of your own choosing.”
Murmurs of confusion bounced off the temple
walls.
“I don’t understand. You said that
construction is almost done?” said Sebastian. “What is the purpose
of this mountain then?”
“When the mountain was found, we began
building into it to construct a new complex. Its secluded location
and vast deposits of monazite and bastnäsite make it ideal. From
these minerals, we can produce lanthanum ore, which you all know as
the energy source we have developed here in Tentyris. However, as I
alluded to, the complex is not designed to permanently house our
entire clan of six hundred plus. As part of my vision, I saw this
sanctuary in the mountainside as a capital and central location for
us to govern. If necessary, it could serve as a temporary refuge
for our kind . . . I didn’t and don’t expect you all to want to
live there permanently with your Covens. It is important you know I
was not trying to take your autonomy away when I didn’t consult
with you all regarding my vision and the building of this new
complex. All of you are capable and powerful leaders; hence you are
the Council of the Zodiac. You have your own interests and those of
your Covens to look after. That is why I am suggesting you relocate
to where you see fit.”
Hathor hoped the olive branch of independence
she was extending would ameliorate any anger, especially from
Stavros. Their friendship had long been strained, and she worried
he was no longer her ally.
“There is more than enough money and
resources for each Coven to have a significant appropriation,”
explained Hathor. “Funding should not be a concern. I know this
announcement was unexpected, and for that I apologize. I hoped that
it would be some time before we needed to discuss this. But I think
this strategy is in the best interests of your Covens. It will
preserve the safety and longevity of all Tentyrians.”
“What about the Luminaries, Hathor? Where
will they go?” asked Sophia.
“I have discussed it with them, and they will
relocate to the new sanctuary with me,” said Hathor, “along with
their families’ Guardians, servants, and the Tentyrian Guard.
However, it appears Calypso may be having second thoughts . . .
Aristos’ Coven will also reside there. As Daria’s husband, they are
sharing in the decision to relocate the Cancer Coven. We can
accommodate additional Covens, if you wish. However, I have
expressed my concerns regarding that issue. You should know the
location of the new complex and its surrounding conditions are, in
short, challenging.” Nodding to Maximos, he continued for
Hathor.
“The mountain is located over four thousand
miles away,
Marguerite Henry, Bonnie Shields