The Magus Epiphany is the third book in The Jotham Fletcher Mystery Thriller Series.
The Magus Epiphany
Ancient treasures and a new revelation
ONLY ONE MAN CAN STOP THE REVELATION THAT WILL SHATTER THE WORLD…
Jotham Fletcher returns in a deadly quest to save his own family and unravel the mystery behind two ancient relics, the murder of a young woman and a shocking series of messages.
Jotham and Madena have dedicated their lives to stopping the work of the secretive Simonian Sect. Their belated honeymoon in Italy is interrupted when they cross paths with the sect and hear news of a mysterious object left at the spot where Simon Magus died in Rome two thousand years ago. The hunt for answers begins – and soon they are both in mortal danger.
The maniacal new leader of the sect has a plan to rewrite history. Father Dominic, the head of the Brotherhood willing to commit any crime to find the Simonians, flees across Europe with the help of a brutal killer. A strange series of messages about a solar eclipse has the world waiting for a revelation. And with Jotham’s family at stake, he must confront a nightmare from his past.
FEATURING: a fast-paced and gripping plot, mysterious historical events, kidnapping, murder and a pursuit from Italy to the Scottish Highlands.
Don’t miss this action-packed thriller!
“A TIGHT PLOT FILLED WITH UNEXPECTED TWISTS, IDEAL FOR FANS OF DAN BROWN, STEVE BERRY AND JAMES ROLLINS.”
“ONCE AGAIN, A GREAT READ FROM TONI PIKE. LOVED IT.”
Three other books in this series are also available. Enjoy Jotham Fletcher’s continuing story.
Book1: THE MAGUS COVENANT – The secret that will change the world
Book 2: THE ROCK OF MAGUS – Code Red in the Vatican
Book 4: HOLY SPEAR OF MAGUS – The covenant will be fulfilled
Now available at Amazon: USA – UK – Australia – Canada – France – Germany – Italy – Netherlands – Spain
Read an excerpt from THE MAGUS EPIPHANY
– Here is Chapter One –
Fifth of June
Ten o’clock at night
Definition of epiphany: a moment of great revelation
The castle was in the highlands of Scotland, hidden in the hills beyond Loch Eil and well away from prying eyes. The exterior looked forbidding: a single, high-walled tower made of grey stone. Some people thought it had been abandoned years ago, left to decay in the harsh weather, and that made it the perfect choice for keeping the Leader safe and secure. He was hidden from view but still in contact with members who were located around the world.
He was almost seventy but as virile as ever, especially with a woman like Helena in his bed. She was thirty years younger than him and built like an Amazon warrior, six feet tall with a powerful frame and muscled breasts that seemed to defy gravity. That night, just as she always did, she made love to him and brought him pleasure that made him forget about the rest of the world.
Afterwards, she stood up and walked over to the table beside the fireplace. There was a decanter of red wine there and a single pewter goblet that had been used for hundreds of years. “The sacramental wine will help you to sleep well,” she said, her Danish accent making the word wine sound more like vine.
“Making love to you is the best sleeping potion I could have. Since you came here I haven’t needed anyone else.”
“I feel the same way,” she replied with a smug smile.
“Say the mantra first, before you bring it over.”
She cleared her throat and poured the wine as she spoke in a singsong voice.
“All should strive to reach the golden mean
Freedom and moderation gives strength unseen
Between power and thought there is no light.
Male female energy all beings unite.”
The Leader looked radiant. “I never tire of those words,” he said.
Helena turned around and took a deep breath as she approached him, holding the goblet high in the air. “Drink the blood of Simon Magus.”
His hands, marred with age spots, grasped it with both hands and drank every last drop of wine. “May you be renewed,” he said as he handed it back.
“And you,” she said, climbing into bed beside him. “I’ll watch as you fall asleep.”
She blinked her eyes too often as she gazed at him and one minute later the trouble started.
The Leader grabbed his stomach and moaned. “I think I want to vomit,” he said, his voice breaking up in distress. “My stomach hurts. Was there something in the wine?”
“No. It tasted all right, didn’t it?”
“Yes, but I can see a light and there are people coming for me, soldiers in the room. Save me: they’ll kill me.”
He was hallucinating.
“I’ll call for help,” she said, jumping out of bed straight away. She stepped back and stared at him for more than ten minutes as the symptoms grew worse. Helena knew them well and they appeared one by one, just as she expected. First there was nausea, but then came the relentless vasoconstriction – that was the narrowing of blood vessels that caused such overwhelming agony in his arms and legs.
He gave her an imploring look. “Horus Barrow can help me. Call him,” he said in a brief moment of lucidity. He screamed and tore at his limbs. “My legs are on fire, stop the pain. It’s terrible.”
A moment later, he retched and the vomit projected across the bed, drenching the bedcovers.
She had never heard such dreadful screams, not even when she was a young doctor working in the emergency ward of a hospital.
At last he descended into seizures. His muscles began to spasm as if his body was jolted with electricity. Saliva drooled from his mouth in a surge of froth.
Helena continued to watch him for three more minutes. She knew precisely what was happening and could not resist the urge to gaze at the spectacle. Finally, she ran from the bedroom and along the hallway. “Horus, Horus!” she yelled.
Horus Barrow emerged from his bedroom and for the first time he heard the cries emanating from the Leader’s room. “What’s happening?” he asked, screwing up his face in shock. He was dressed only in a sarong so that Helena could see the thick coat of black hair on his arms and chest. There was no doubting his Mediterranean heritage.
“He’s dying. I gave him my poison.”
His eyes widened in astonishment. “What do you mean – what is it?”
“Liquid Ergotamine. There’s nothing that can be done to save him.”
“You’re monstrous, Helena.”
He was stocky and several inches shorter than her, so when she stood close to him he felt afraid to move, as if he was frozen to the floor. She stared into his brown eyes as if trying to hypnotise him. “Now you can obey me,” she replied. “You can be by my side and not just the Leader’s flunkey.”
“What shall we do with him?”
“Go and comfort him, if you like. He’ll be dead soon.”
“He was wrong to trust you.”
Helena put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m always victorious.”
Horus ran towards the bedroom and found the Leader lying sideways across the bed, gasping for his final breaths. The man’s spasms had become much weaker, as if his supplies of energy were exhausted.
“I’ve called an ambulance; help will be here soon,” said Horus, as if he was comforting a small child. They were hollow words and he marvelled at his own ability to tell a lie. He took the Leader’s hand and squeezed it gently. “Stay calm: they’ll look after you.”
Helena watched and showed no emotion as her lover took his last breath.
She repeated the mantra and then locked eyes with Horus. “The Leader is dead,” she said.
END OF CHAPTER ONE
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