The Lost Word

By Traci Harding

Enter a world of mystery and hauntings fair and foul.
A fabulously spooky ghost story from one of Voyager's bestselling authors, traci Harding.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Feb 13, 2012
• ISBN: 9781743096222

Traci Harding

Traci Harding is one of Australia's best loved and most prolific authors. Her stories blend fantasy, fact, esoteric belief, time travel and quantum physics, into adventurous romps through history, alternative dimensions, universes and states of consciousness. She has published more than 20 bestselling books and been translated into several languages. 

Book preview

The Lost Word

1. The Guardians of Secrets Past

Long ago, a doctrine was parted,

half was published, half was shrouded.

The truth was hidden underground,

by a Brotherhood, duty bound.

Crucibles, war and strife would pass,

before the hidden doctrine would surface.

Any clue as to the secrets lost,

must be pursued at any cost.

IN THE CHAPTER ROOM the Brotherhood gathered, as it had done regularly for centuries, to discuss issues of the world that were of interest to their secret organisation.

This evening it was a young, prominent art collector who had something to share with the Brotherhood. ‘Grand Master, fellow colleagues.’ He raised himself from a lush throne-like chair, which was positioned in a circular formation of thirteen chairs, twelve of like design, for only the Grand Master’s seat stood apart from the others in splendour. The art collector extracted a print from a large cylinder and carried it across the floor featuring the insignia of their order, and placed his offering in the hands of his superior. ‘This is a print of an original painting that an art dealer in Australia thought I might be interested in.’

The Grand Master, a business tycoon, opened it out and was immediately struck by the subject matter of the painting.

‘This piece was painted by one of our Australian brethren, Master Collector?’ he asked.

The art collector cocked an eyebrow, for this was the conundrum. ‘Neither the artist nor the dealer belongs to our order, Grand Master. The art dealer knows I have a passion for ancient symbolism and, although this piece is not antique, he thought the striking imagery might appeal.’

‘Indeed it does.’ The Grand Master had paled, and he passed the piece in question to his most trusted advisor, who was seated on his right.

‘Good heavens,’ uttered the historian as he viewed the work. ‘This is an almost exact replica of an illustration found among the tattered remains of the ancient scrolls, which we have recently unearthed?’ He looked at the art collector, his face shrouded in confusion and worry.

‘Indeed,’ the young art collector confirmed, and his restrained pleasure was in vast contrast to the mood of his older colleagues. ‘And only this copy of it is in full colour and is complete, the pillars being inscribed with hieroglyphs.’

‘Have you checked these glyphs against the original work?’ the Grand Master wondered out loud.

‘Yes, I have.’ The art collector paused a moment to heighten the suspense. ‘The glyphs on the pillars are exact in every detail.’

All present in the chamber gasped and whispered among themselves.

‘But … see here.’ The historian pointed to the archway that connected the two pillars in the picture. ‘There was nothing written here in the original.’

‘Yes, that is true, Master Historian,’ granted the art dealer. ‘But if you would be so kind as to translate this addition to the brethren, you might consider the message to have merit.’

The old historian adjusted the glasses on his nose and examined the tiny symbols depicted in the print. ‘Whosoever seeks The Lost Word …’ he read and then paused, stunned, as he looked up to his breathless colleagues to convey the rest, ‘… shall find it herein.’

The Grand Master appeared to be very perplexed by this. ‘Who is the artist? What is his name?’

‘Her name,’ the collector ventured, again shocking his entirely male audience, ‘is Karita Torelle.’

‘A woman!’ gasped the historian, outraged. ‘How can this be?’

‘Well, I have a theory,’ the art collector offered, and his superiors, eager to hear it, indicated he should proceed. ‘She could have found a copy of ancient texts that our excavations are currently unearthing both here in America and in Scotland. Or maybe we have the remains of a copy and this woman has found the original? The house in Sydney that this woman occupies was owned by one of our brethren early last century. His name was Tristan de Scott, and he rose through the ranks of our order before his insights into ancient doctrine made him of some interest to our brothers of the Inner Order.’

‘The Rosicrucians.’ the Grand Master stated and the young art collector nodded in confirmation.

‘Apparently, de Scott had started channelling information from a spirit claiming to be Francis Bacon, Roger Bacon, and Christian Rosencruz amongst other renowned forefathers of the society.’ And as you know there is speculation that Francis Bacon could well be the unknown creator of the original picture we have just unearthed in Scotland at the Rosslyn Chapel.’

‘I have read about this case.’ The Grand Master frowned as he recalled details. ‘I believe de Scott was blackballed from the RC and excommunicated from our order for disrespect to senior members.’

‘That is correct, Grand Master,’ the art dealer said, and although he knew his view might be frowned upon he voiced it nevertheless. ‘The senior members of that time had deemed de Scott’s channelling to be fraudulent, which perhaps might explain his condemning outbursts. However,’ he continued before anyone had the chance to counter his view, ‘if de Scott was channelling the identities he claimed he was, these famous brothers were likely to have seen the lost texts before they were hidden, and then