Jake’s head-torch illuminated the way through the narrow tunnel, but the dark stone around absorbed much of the light, dampening it to a mere flicker. There were rough markings on the rock where ancient tools wielded by muscled hands had once chipped away at the heart of the volcano. It reminded him of the men who had descended into the mine back in South Africa, and his own part in creating the man that Frik eventually became. Jake recalled the South African’s face at the moment he toppled from the shoulder of Christ, knocked off balance by his own ferocious charge. He still raged at his enemy even as he plummeted to the concrete below. Jake had seen death in many guises, but something about the big South African haunted him.
He pushed away the dark thoughts. Now was not the time to dwell on past mistakes. He could only focus on making sure this mission succeeded, and right now, that was not certain at all.
After ten minutes of walking, the tunnel narrowed even further and Jake had to squeeze his body through sideways. He took his pack off to drag behind him. If the passage constricted anymore, they’d have to turn back.
To be honest, he wanted to get out of here. The stone tunnel was a tight, immovable prison. The walls felt like they were closing in. The lack of airflow made his breath ragged. The temperature was rising. Jake couldn’t help but think of the millions of tons of rock above him, crushing down, pressing, constricting —
He shook his head to clear the thoughts. This place was claustrophobic enough without dwelling on it. He shifted focus and considered the strategic positioning of the narrow tunnel. The end would be a choke point and each would have to emerge alone to whatever waited beyond. Turned to the side as he was, he would struggle to defend himself and that made him seriously uneasy.
“Stop!” Aurelia shouted behind him in the tunnel, her labored breathing suddenly short and fast in what sounded like a panic attack.
“I have to get out!” she screamed as she banged her thin arms against Jake’s pack from behind. “Please help me…” Her voice trailed off into piteous sobs.
“Close your eyes,” Morgan said in a calm voice. “You’re OK. Take some deep breaths.”
“We’re almost there.” Jake’s upbeat tone hid the fact that he had no idea when the tunnel would end. But surely it couldn’t go on forever.
He moved faster, ignoring the squeeze of rock against his broad shoulders as he pushed on down the tunnel. Aurelia was tiny, with more space to move, and her sobs quietened as she controlled her fear once more. But Jake knew she might collapse if they did not emerge soon. He understood how exhausting a panic attack could be. They had to get out of here.
Suddenly, he saw a light in the distance, a flicker of flame.
Jake turned off his torch for a second to check it was real. The warm glow flared against the darkness ahead.
“I see the exit,” he called back to Aurelia and Morgan, redoubling his pace. “Come on, we’re almost there.”
But as Jake drew closer to the end, he could see figures waiting for them. Monks in forest green robes positioned in a fighting stance, hoods obscuring their faces, each holding a huge sword. The Order of the Ignis Flammae.
Jake stifled a groan. Killer monks were never his favorite foe. They were fanatics, all of them keen to die for their cause and ready to meet their Maker. He had no desire to see God anytime soon, but it was too late to turn back now.
“We’ve got company,” he called back softly, making sure that Morgan knew what was coming.
He stepped into the chamber at the end of the tunnel, dropping his pack and raising both his hands in surrender. Aurelia stumbled out behind him and dropped to her hands and knees, panting and coughing as she tried to draw breath. Morgan walked out slowly, scanning the surroundings with a calm gaze, and once again, Jake was glad to have her by his side. Whatever happened, they had each other’s back.
Five monks stood around them, swords drawn and pointed at the new arrivals. Their faces were mostly obscured but Jake glimpsed some of the men beneath. They were all well-muscled, clearly highly trained, and each held his sword high with unwavering strength. These were not men he cared to fight.
The chamber was long and wide, almost an underground cathedral in its grandeur. Tall bronze candelabra stood at the sides, casting a warm glow across the stone, next to heavy wooden barrels stacked in alcoves down the cave. More light emanated from the long fire pit in the central aisle. Coals smoldered in the center, generating heat that made the place stifling hot. Jake swiftly took an inventory of the place, assessing their options. There must be a ventilation system and other ways to bring in supplies. There was no way those barrels came in through the tight tunnel they had just emerged from.
He heard a sharp intake of breath beside him.
Jake turned to see Morgan staring down the central nave to the end of the chamber where a gigantic ancient door stood, carved with botanical images. In front of it, there was a stone altar, and a figure tied on top. Professor Camara Mbaye.
Morgan took a step toward her prone figure.
The monks tightened the circle, raising their swords higher in an obvious threat.
Morgan stopped, palms open in submission as she moved back into place.
“Enough.” A deep voice echoed in the chamber and the monks took a step back at the command, bringing their weapons down to hold at their sides, alert and ready.
An old man walked into the circle. “I am the Abbot of the Order of the Ignis Flammae. Few outsiders have ever made it this far, but your presence answers a question we have pondered for centuries. Back in the 1500s, one of the Brothers was a New Christian, a forced convert from Judaism. When he discovered what lay at the heart of the Garden, he saw a way to give the Jews leverage against the Inquisition. He made a map and gave it to a Rabbi in Portugal, who split it into pieces and distributed it across the empire. We’ve tried to find it over the years, but figured it was lost in time.” He shrugged. “No matter, you’re here now and you can join your friend.”
He glanced over to Camara. “That one has little left to give, but what she has will soon be offered to the Garden. You’re a welcome addition to the sacrifice.”
Jake noticed Morgan clench her fists at his words and then relax them again as she controlled her anger. Clearly, they weren’t going to be skewered immediately or thrown into the pit of coals, so they could afford to wait and see what happened next. Every moment they stayed alive, opened up another possible future.
Aurelia struggled to her feet. “I’ve sought the Garden my entire life.” Her voice wavered a little, and she wiped a tear from her eye as if overcome by the moment. “Please, let me see it.”
The Abbot smiled. “Of course, my child. You will be the first inside.”
His tone was gentle, but Jake noticed the predatory look in his eyes. The Garden was no peaceful haven.
“Bring them.” The Abbot spun around and walked the length of the chamber.
Morgan didn’t need any encouragement. She followed the Abbot, one monk by her side, to make sure she didn’t try anything.
Jake helped Aurelia while she was still a little wobbly as the monks escorted them to the altar.
Morgan couldn’t help herself. As the Abbot walked behind the altar to stand in front of the door, she ran to Camara. The monk behind her brought up his sword, but the Abbot raised a hand to stop him as Morgan bent to the prone figure.
She had never met the professor before, but Camara was only here because ARKANE had involved her in the mission. As Morgan touched the professor’s neck and checked for a pulse, she was determined that Dr Mbaye would make it out of here.
There was a faint beating under her fingertips.
She sighed with relief. Camara had been tortured, the bloody marks on her body and bruised face were testament to that, but at least she was alive.
The Abbot smiled at her efforts. “Oh, don’t worry, my child. I would never have killed her. She’s an offering to the Garden she has tried so hard to find. And she brought you to us, so the sacrifice will be all the greater. Lord be praised.”
He stood aside, revealing the giant door in all its glory. Made from ancient wood and etched with writhing vines and blooming flowers, its petals gaped wide in voracious maws, while its leaves dripped with poison. A curious portal to what must surely be Eden, it spoke of unrelenting hunger, a desire to possess the Earth and everything in it.
The Abbot began to chant, his deep voice a sonorous boom in the cavern as he unlocked the door with an oversized antique key.
The monks around joined him in a chorus, their voices rising to the roof. The words were indistinguishable, some archaic language preserved by the ancient Brotherhood — but the sentiment was clear. It was more a battle chant than a hymn of praise; a declaration of war, not a song of worship.
Whatever lay behind the door must be faced with courage.
Morgan steeled herself as two of the monks dragged it open with a creak.
The smell hit her first, a pungent blend of wet soil and rotting vegetation, quickly overpowered by the heavy stench of spent flowers.
As the door opened fully, she saw the Garden.
This was no manicured lawn with pruned trees and tamed flower beds as depicted in every artistic rendering of Adam and Eve in Paradise. This was an underground rainforest, an abundance of color and growth, teeming with life. This was Nature unbound.
A shaft of light shone down from an aperture high above the soaring roof of the cave, alighting on an immense tree in its center. Crevices and deep cracks riddled its thick trunk, big enough to shelter a human within. Its branches reached high above and out across the cave, protecting myriad species beneath its leafy boughs.
As Morgan looked up at the ancient tree, a sense of awe rose within. Her life was truly insignificant in the face of its majesty, a brief flicker of light in a galaxy of stars. She had felt this before in the presence of vast natural beauty, but there was something wild about this tree, something untamed and fierce.
As she stared into the heart of the green, a deep knowledge stirred in some kind of collective memory. The air shimmered and Morgan saw herself dancing with a group of women under the full moon, wreathed in ivy and flowers, worshipping the Mother Goddess together. They circled around the tree, spinning faster, heads thrown back in ecstasy, intoxicated by the sap that was both poison and drug.
A man stepped from the shadows, his eyes wide at the sight of the wild gathering.
A hiss from the women. Trespasser.
They ran at him as one, teeth bared, whipped into a frenzy. The first bowled him over and the others tore at his flesh, beating him and ripping at his skin until there was nothing left but a grisly corpse.
The women smeared his blood on their skin and used it to paint the trunk of the tree with ancient symbols. This was the domain of Eve, and Adam had no place in it.
Morgan gasped, and she was back in the cave again, surrounded by the monks who controlled the Garden—or at least, who tried. But she sensed that this place could not be controlled for long. Eden was no paradise for humanity.
“It’s the Tree of Life,” Aurelia whispered like a prayer. She walked toward the door with hesitant steps, a smile on her lips, her eyes filled with wonder.
She stepped over the threshold into the Garden, her first footstep on the soil of this holy place.
A vine shot out and wrapped itself around her ankle, digging into her flesh with razor-sharp barbs.
Aurelia screamed in horror and tried to step back through the door.
Jake ran forward to help, but two of the monks stopped him at sword-point.
“She asked for this,” the Abbot said, his eyes alight with anticipation. “Now she will understand what the Garden truly is.”
The vine jerked back inside, pulling Aurelia to the ground. She screamed and scrabbled at the dirt, desperately trying to get back to the cave.
Two more barbed vines squirmed across the ground and wrapped themselves around her body. One encircled her neck, choking off her screams, and they dragged her back into the impenetrable green toward the Tree of Life. Her muffled cries died to silence as more wicked vines wrapped her body tight until there was no way the heiress could breathe anymore.
Aurelia’s corpse, now a cocoon of jungle green, rose up through the lower boughs of the tree, hoisted by monstrous lianas until it reached the fork of a branch.
Cracks in the living wood opened up to receive the sacrifice, crushing what was left of the heiress as the vines fed the tree its bloody offering. The sound of cracking bone, creaking wood and the rustling of vegetation filled the Garden and then it was over. Nothing left but bright blood mingled with sap dripping down the trunk.
The horror of it threatened to overwhelm Morgan. She had seen death in many guises, but this seemed an abomination, even as she understood that all must return to Nature in the end. After everything that humanity did to destroy the Earth, perhaps it was the most natural thing in the world for Eden to fight back.
“This is the truth of the Garden,” the Abbot said. “Mankind was kept from the Tree of Life for good reason. Nature unfettered is Nature ascendant and She will devour the Earth if we allow Her to. The Order has spent generations ensuring She remains tamed and our sacred duty is to protect humanity from Nature unbound.”
He pointed at the bloody stains on the trunk. “We knew of the mission of Aurelia dos Santos Fidalgo. With her wealth and desire to honor Nature above all, even at the cost of our entire species, she was a threat to our sacred purpose.” He sighed. “But perhaps she realized her mistake in those final moments.”
The Abbot stepped closer to the altar, placed a hand on Camara’s brow and stroked the blood-matted hair back from her face. “This one, too, has been a threat. Now she must face the Garden she has sought for so long.”