At the Abbot’s words, Morgan looked over at Jake. They had to stop this now, but there was little they could do against the gathered monks with their swords.
Jake gave an obvious glance sideways at one of the heavy candelabra topped with lighted candles. It was the closest thing to a weapon. She could reach it if he caused a distraction. Morgan nodded imperceptibly and readied herself for action.
A sudden shout and a monk darted forward to the door, his sword raised.
He chopped at one of the barbed vines that snaked its way out of the door. None of the other monks reacted, and the Abbot looked unsurprised at first. Clearly the Garden testing its limits was not an unusual occurrence.
But then the sound of rustling grew louder, quickly joined by a rumble of soil pushed aside and the ripping of plants uprooted.
The Abbot frowned. “Quick! Shut the door,” he shouted in alarm.
Two more monks jumped forward to push at the ancient portal.
A horde of vines exploded from the undergrowth.
They slithered fast as snakes, some across the floor, some around the edges of the door. An immense mass of them, tumbling and teeming, as thick as a man’s arm, each slashing the air with thorns tipped with poison.
The weight of the plants thrust the door wide as more of them joined the attack. The monks weren’t strong enough, and the ancient portal swung fully open.
One monk went down, his screams quickly muffled by a bulky tendril that thrust down his throat, cracking his jaw and writhing within his torso before smashing out of his rib cage in a bloody burst.
Jake darted forward and grabbed the dead monk’s sword, joining the others against a common foe.
The Abbot retreated, his face a mask of despair, as the Brothers hacked and chopped at the writhing undergrowth. But the sheer volume of deadly plants overwhelmed them, squirming and twitching through the cave.
One vine reached the narrow corridor to the giant statues and slithered inside. A monk ran to head it off, guarding the exit as he slashed and cut, trying to stop the Garden finding a way out into the world above. The vines came at him thick and fast, wrapping themselves around his legs faster than he could cut them away.
Eden would soon escape its prison.
“There is only one way left,” the Abbot shouted above the crack of branches and the rustle of thick stems. “Brothers, you know what we must do. Be strong in your duty.”
The remaining monks around the cavern gave up trying to chop at the wild vines and ran for the huge wooden barrels that lay against the rocky walls.
Two of them pulled the lid off one and tipped it over.
A slick of petrol ran across the floor and ignited in the fire pit. The vines closest to it jerked away, but the dark liquid quickly coated the green surface. Stinking fumes permeated the cavern as other Brothers tipped over more vats until the stone floor ran ankle deep with flammable liquid and the flames began to spread.
While Jake slashed at the slithering vines with their sharp thorns, Morgan clambered up onto the stone altar and pulled Camara close. The professor shivered in a fever, her skin burning up from poison that had seeped into her flesh. If she didn’t get medical help soon, she would die of infection, but it looked like they would all perish in the fire before then. The monks would burn the Garden to ash rather than let it escape.
Despite the noise and fury around them, Morgan found a calm at the heart of the storm, a sense of peace in this ancient place. There truly was a Garden of Eden, a place where Nature ruled, but it was not a haven for humanity. It could truly be their end.
The knowledge that Nature could be both good and evil, healer and killer, was a truth denied by so many, and yet here, it seemed simple to understand. In the end, Nature would always win, and the corpses of all who stood against Her would be food for Her next generation.
A bellow rang out across the chamber.
One monk called to God as he ladled petrol over himself, soaking his tunic. He struck his sword, turning it to flame and setting himself alight at the same time.
He howled a final prayer and ran headlong through the ancient wooden door into the Garden. The vines ripped at him, but he made it to the Tree, wrapping his arms around it so his flaming corpse charred at its bark.
The other remaining Brothers around the chamber followed suit, dousing themselves in flammable liquid, faces set with determination, hands clutching the swords with which they would fight to the death.
The Abbot stood watching, his old frame bent over his sword, his eyes betraying a deep sadness. He edged around the cavern to the altar through the wash of petrol, his gaze fixed on Morgan.
When he reached the altar, he leaned in to whisper for her ears only. “Our mission has been the same for generations. To keep the Garden from the world or destroy Her with our last breath.” He held his sword up, a wiry strength left in his failing limbs. “I will die with my Brothers, but you must live.”
He pointed to a side chamber. “There’s a tunnel back up to the surface. Go that way before the flames consume everything.” He pulled at the neck of his tunic to reveal a silver pendant and tugged it over his head. The Abbot took one last look, then gave it to Morgan. “Take this to the Order at the monastery of Adana in Turkey. Please, I beg you. This incarnation of the Garden must perish but it cannot be the end.”
Morgan attached the pendant around her neck and hid it under her jacket. “What is it?”
Tears welled in the Abbot’s eyes and rolled down his cheeks. “The last Seed from the Tree of Life. From this, She can grow again. There have been many Gardens over millennia, each destroyed by man and each grown again. The Tree is not life for humanity. It is life for Nature. It can spread faster than anything you've seen and is strengthened by blood sacrifice. Aurelia was right — given free rein, it would transform the Earth into Eden once more, and in that Garden, there is no place for mankind.”
He clutched at Morgan’s hand. “You are the only way for the Seed to pass out of here. We will all die with this Garden, as is our vow. The place is mined to ensure its destruction. But you must escape, and the Seed must be protected. Go now.”
The Abbot turned away from the altar and stepped over the writhing vines to a heavy lever on the wall. He pushed it down.
A clunk. A grinding of stone on sand.
Liquid spurted down in a fine rain from the cave roof above. Not water, but more fuel.
The Abbot faced the fiery inferno that the Garden had become. He held his sword high and struck it to ignite the flames. With a cry to God, the Abbot ran with all his strength toward the Tree of Life.
He fought through the vines with energy far greater than his age should allow, his faith sustaining him as thorns ripped at his flesh. His body ran with blood, but still he pressed on as the flames rose higher around him.
With the last of his strength, the old man stabbed his blade into the heart of the Tree even as its bark opened up to consume him.
Morgan jumped off the altar and Jake rushed to hoist Camara over his broad shoulders in a firefighter’s lift. They ran for the side chamber and darted up the staircase.
A boom came from the cavern behind, then a whooshing sound.
The ground shook.
Morgan clutched at the wall of the staircase as chunks of rock fell down from the ceiling above. As the shudder passed by, she ran again, taking two steps at a time, Jake close behind with Camara.
As the stairs wound up and out of the caves, the sound of rumbling pursued them. The very heart of the mountain began to collapse under their feet.
Morgan sprinted, her breath ragged, grateful for her recent training, and glad that Jake was there to carry Camara. She could not do this alone.
Together they made it out of the mouth of the staircase and onto the opposite side of the volcano from the cave descent.
“Keep going,” Jake shouted as they emerged into the dusk.
Together, they ran down the slope of the volcano, across the meadow beyond.
Another boom. Bigger this time.
An underground explosion ripped through the fabric of the mountain, shaking the ground as if the cherubim awoke from their ancient sleep to wield fire against the trespassers of Eden.