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Light streamed through the opening rift before the surface of the portal settled like a pool of liquid gold that rippled like it had been struck by a pebble.
“The gateways are open,” Murdoch shouted. “Let’s go; through the portal. Mind your step!”
Lara fell back, crouching beside the open gateway before waving us over. “Go. I’ll cover you.”
“Dizzy, let’s go,” I called but she didn’t move a muscle. Probably because she knew that the minute she did, all hell was going to pour into the basement. She was the only thing keeping the barricade in place.
Murdoch scooped up his duffel and paused next to the portal. “Come on, Dizzy. We’re not leaving you here.”
When she didn’t move, I pointed at the gateway. “Dizzy, move your ass. Otherwise, we all die here in this damned basement. It’s all of us or none of us.”
She trumpeted as she rose up and ambled forward. The barricade imploded inward, demon creatures spilling through. The first of them to try and dart past her was crushed to a thin paste as she brought her foot down on top of them.
She picked up her pace, stomping across the cellar as Lara blazed away at the creatures trying to scurry after her. Dizzy shifted into her human form, pointed a finger at me, and jumped feet first through the portal.
Murdoch followed her through. As Lara’s clip ran dry, I grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her into the gateway with me.
We seemed to be falling, a panorama of light playing all around us. Without a point of reference, it was disorienting, and it was hard to tell if I was falling or being pulled through space.
Then, the light vanished. My butt struck stone hard enough that I felt it jar right through me.
“Ow,” I groaned, lurching forward.
It took me a moment to realize the floor itself wasn’t flat. Instead, everything tilted down at a forty-five-degree decline. We half-slid, half-tumbled our way down the stone slope until we slammed into the bottom.
I paused to catch my breath, rubbing at my very bruised tailbone.
We were in a large chamber made of enormous hewn stones that had been laid neatly atop each other with little need for mortar or cement. The room itself was lit by the gateway, which still showed as a shimmering golden portal in the roof.
Beside me, Murdoch was on his feet, bending down to pick up the sanctum’s key. After tucking it into his pocket, he extended his hand to help me up.
“Come on, Seth, no time to sit around. They’ll be right behind us.”
A chittering howl erupted, and I glanced back up the slope in time to catch the first of the demon creatures as it struck the stone above us.
The four of us raced across what seemed to be a stone antechamber, toward a corridor cut into the far wall. As we approached, torches flickered to life along its length. I couldn’t even see the end of the tunnel. It just vanished into the distance.
More of the demons poured into the chamber behind us, though compared to the horde streaming into the basement it still seemed to be a trickle. I doubted that would last; it never did.
“All of you upfront, I’ll bring up the rear.” Murdoch raised the shotgun. “Just keep going. No matter what you hear.”
“What are you going to do?” I asked, not liking the sound of that one bit.
More demons clambered through the portal, but for every demon that made it through, so too did a trickle of black ichor. Puddles of the stuff were starting to run down the slope behind us.
“What the hell?” I muttered as I realized just how much of it was running down the stonework.
“Some of them aren’t strong enough to cross the threshold,” Murdoch said. “Not a strong enough will, so they lose their form. Get moving. I’m going to seal the portal.”
Murdoch reached into his duffel and drew out one block of C4 explosive, and then another.
“Move,” he shouted.
There was no arguing with him but, in my mind, I was quickly putting together the implications of what he was saying. He was going to collapse the tunnel behind us to cut them off. That also meant sealing us in. There would be no escape, no turning back.
Not through this portal anyway.
Onward and upward.
I never liked being backed into a corner. I’d certainly never been a burn-the-boats sort of guy. The boats were nice. The boats let you go home when things went to hell, which of late certainly happened more often than not.
If there was no retreat, then the only option was through the sanctum. There were four gateways after all, right? We just had to grab the Grail and fight our way through whoever was left guarding the other gateways.
Edward Knight or the Inquisition. Neither were an exciting proposition and in spite of the mountain of ammunition we’d brought with us, Drewitt had already accounted for most of it.
I picked up the pace, my breath coming in short bursts as I raced down the tunnel, trying to catch up to Lara and Dizzy. Neither of them seemed to be struggling at all. I really needed to work on my cardio. Given how much time I spent running for my life, it seemed a worthwhile investment.
Murdoch dropped the charges as he went, pausing periodically to blast away any of the demons that ventured too close, with his AA-12.
With their numbers thinned, they seemed less certain, or perhaps that was on account of how far their master was from them.
Every time Murdoch would drop a charge, he reached into the bag and pulled out another.
I counted six, before the chittering creatures finally worked out something was up.
The nearest creature picked up the charge Murdoch had just dropped. Murdoch pulled out the detonator.
“Run like hell,” he shouted.
My heart pounded a steady rhythm in my chest as my bruised ass protested the exertion. The high-top sneakers scuffed against the stone. They had a pretty good grip in spite of their age. But then again, Air Jordans tended to age well.
I counted in my head. I reached nine before Murdoch mashed the button on his detonator. In the narrow confines of the tunnel, the blast was deafening. The shock wave that rippled forward pitched me onto my face. I kissed stone, and it was entirely unpleasant.
As the wind was forced from my lungs, I looked back to see the whole chamber shake and a sixty-foot-long section of the tunnel collapse. Stone poured into the tunnel, choking it off. Demons howled as they were crushed beneath the weight of thousands of tons of stone.
Fortunately, the rest of the tunnel held, though I suspected Murdoch had known that it would.
For the first time since the ambush at the Abbey House, silence prevailed.
“Is everybody okay?” I asked, rolling onto my back. I had pins and needles in my right arm where the Sidhe magic lingered, my jaw felt like it had gone a round in the ring, and a bruise was probably forming on my right butt cheek. Not to mention the gash on the back of my left hand that was going to need to be taken care of. But given what we’d been through, I was feeling like we’d come off all right.
“Yup, never better.” Dizzy groaned.
“I’m alive,” Lara added, still on her feet. She discarded the empty magazine from her MP5 and loaded another.
“Well, that was a delight,” I muttered as I sat up against the wall.
“If the demons are making a play for the Grail, things are worse than I thought.” Murdoch shook his head as he clambered to his feet. “Things have grown dire indeed.”
“What do you mean?” I asked. “How are they any worse than the Inquisition, or Knight for that matter?”
Murdoch sighed. “Knight would use the Grail for his own ends. The Inquisition would use it to reignite their glory days. Probably launch a new crusade. Each would twist it to build their kingdom. Those creatures, though, they aren’t of this world. Who knows what they would do with it? That mustn’t be allowed to happen.”
I nodded at the rubble. “Well, that’s going to take them weeks to try and dig through, so we have a bit of a head start. Where do we go from here?”
Murdoch rubbed his sleeve against his forehead. “Just give me a minute to think.”
The longer we stood there, the more unsettled I grew. With Drewitt and his demon horde buried beneath a mountain of stone, I had time to think for the first time in hours. And that was always dangerous.
I realized that I was trapped somewhere between the mortal world and the supernatural plane, in a place I didn’t understand, with a plan that still hadn’t really been explained to us.
I was all for helping Murdoch, but the current status quo seemed likely to get us killed.
Murdoch reached into his pocket and drew out the key we’d used to open the gateway.
“We have Lucius’s key. Supposing we can make it safely to the inner sanctum, we can open our gate and make for the Grail.”
“Along with everyone else,” I replied, remembering what Murdoch had said about the way the keys operated to open the inner doors.
Murdoch nodded. “If our gateway opened, so did theirs. But the path to the inner sanctum is not short and has its own dangers, and they don’t know it like I do.”
“Dangers?” Dizzy asked. “What kind of dangers?”
Murdoch swallowed. “Traps to protect the sanctuary. But I have made the journey many times. It won’t be an issue for us.”
“What kind of traps?” I asked. Flashbacks of the flooding trap in the temple of my ancestors filled my mind. I had no desire to swim in a pool of giant crocodiles.
“Don’t worry, I will lead the way,” Murdoch said, tapping the key against his palm. “Just focus on the moment. I don’t want to cloud your mind and distract you.”
I didn’t like the sound of that. If anything happened to Murdoch, we would be hopelessly lost. I was about to push him for more details, when I noticed Dizzy was still favoring her left leg and limping a little.
Reaching into the pouch on my combat rigging, I drew out two of the small glass stones and with an effort of will, caused them to glow a brilliant blue. The glow augmented the light in the tunnel which, courtesy of the wall mounted sconces and flaming torches, seemed largely to light only the top half of the tunnel.
“What are you doing?” Lara asked.
“I needed more light,” I replied, rolling the glass stones across the floor. The orbs flooded the lower half of the tunnel with light and in their illumination, Dizzy’s injury was apparent. A three-inch tear in her pants, and a slowly spreading patch of blood where the demon had got her. Dizzy had one hand pressed to it.
“We’re not going anywhere until we patch that up.” I pointed at Dizzy’s blood-soaked hand and the wound she was trying in vain to hide.
Dizzy looked down. “It’s nothing. The creature barely nicked me. I’ll be fine.”
“You’ll bleed out, you stubborn woman. We already know you’re the toughest one here. You don’t have to prove anything to us, so stop trying and get on the floor so we can fix it.”
“It’s just a flesh wound,” Dizzy said, quoting her spirit animal, the black knight. Except Dizzy would never let her ass get beat that bad.
“You heard what Murdoch said. It’s a ways to the next gate, and we all have to be mobile if we’re to have a chance of getting through this alive.”
“At a certain point,” Dizzy replied, “this is going to turn into a race, and I have no intention of making it in my human form. So stop fretting.”
“On the floor, now!” I pointed to the ground. “Don’t make me tase you.”
“Fine.” Dizzy grumbled as she dropped to her haunches and then rolled over as she lay down on the smooth stone floor.
I scrambled closer to get a better look at the wound. Murdoch reached into his duffel and pulled out a small first-aid kit.
He handed me the kit, and I set it down on the stone floor before positioning the spheres beside us so that I could see better. The cut was shallow but long, a good five inches. I considered trying to seal it with magic, but in my current shape, I didn’t dare.
Ever since the Reoánaighsidhe, my arm had proved unreliable at best and healing magic wasn’t the sort of arcane art one gambled on when at reduced capacity. Not unless you were truly desperate and willing to risk death to heal whatever wound you were faced with.
I reached into the first-aid kit and pulled out a bottle of antiseptic. I wasn’t really sure it would work on demon wounds, but it was better than nothing.
“Get on with it,” Dizzy muttered. “We don’t have all day.”
I blotted and dabbed at the wound. The muscles in Dizzy’s leg tensed as I did, but she didn’t dignify the wound cleaning with so much as a groan.
She had more grit than sandpaper.
I still figured it was best to distract her with something else.
“Murdoch, tell us more about the path ahead. What sort of traps are we up against?”
He knew what I was doing, and I hoped his care for Dizzy would override his tendency to keep secrets when it came to the Grail.
“On this particular path, there are three traps every supplicant must pass if they are to reach the inner sanctum.”
“What are they?” I asked as I studied my work.
“The first is a test of preparation, reminiscent of the parable of the ten virgins. When we pass the threshold, the torches on the wall will go out. If one comes unprepared, they will not have sufficient light to notice the void on either side of the safe path. They risk falling into the eternities.”
“The eternities?” I asked. “I don’t understand.”
Murdoch groaned like a teacher whose student was focusing on the wrong part of the lesson.
“Yes, a void from which nothing can return. But the test is simple enough. All you have to do is walk the straight and narrow path between the voids, and you will be fine.”
“Okay, straight and narrow path. Got it,” I replied, staring at Dizzy’s wound and wondering just how I was meant to bandage something that high on her hip, particularly with her pants in the way. I blotted around the wound, trying to clean it as best I could.
“What is the second trap?” Dizzy asked.
“The second is just a simple test of reverence. When you behold the face of God, kneel.”
“I think we can do that,” Lara replied. “What about the last trap?”
“Greed,” Murdoch replied. “The Grail is not meant to be possessed by any who are not pure of heart. The final test is designed to show the heart of any who would come before the Grail. We will pass through unparalleled riches. But if you take even a single coin, we will not be permitted to live. Keep your hands to yourselves, no matter what you see.”
“Seems easy enough,” Lara replied.
I couldn’t help but agree. Mortal riches weren’t particularly enticing to me. I could make my own. At this rate, it seemed the path to the inner sanctum was going to be child’s play.
“Let us see what you think when you face it,” Murdoch replied, “It is easier for a camel to pass through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to enter heaven. It has proven an effective deterrent for centuries.”
“Noted,” I muttered as I peered down at the wound. “Dizzy, this is going to need stitches or at least a bandage. We’re going to have to cut away some of your pants.”
“Don’t you dare.” Dizzy waved her finger at me. “These were some of my favorites.”
“They already have a massive hole in them.”
“It doesn’t matter,” she replied. “You aren’t cutting them up.”
She fidgeted with her belt before undoing it.
“Lara,” she called out.
“Yes, dear,” Lara replied, taking a step closer.
“If either of these two stare at my house, you’re to put a bullet in them.”
“With pleasure,” Lara replied, eying me. “You two behave yourselves.”
Dizzy pushed her pants down to her knees, revealing black, boy briefs that I did my best to avoid looking at, along with the shapely rear they were attached to. Lara stood over me the whole time, ready to carry out my sentence. Her presence wasn’t going to make applying the bandage any easier, that was for sure.
I packed gauze against the wound and ran a bandage around Dizzy’s leg once, holding it tight to apply a little pressure.
“I need to borrow a finger,” I said, reaching for Dizzy’s hand and placing it over the partially wrapped bandage while I wrapped it around once more.
I ran the bandage around again, and found it was now tight enough to keep itself in place. I wrapped my way up her leg, going around and around as best I could manage before making my way back down to the bottom of the wound and tucking the last lip of the bandage beneath the bottom layer. Finding a small clip in the first-aid kit, I fastened the bandage into place.
“There we go,” I said. “Now at least you won’t bleed out on us, and would you look at that, none of us got shot in the process.”
Dizzy looked up at Lara.
“It was touch and go for a moment,” Lara whispered conspiratorially. “I thought I was going to have to put him down.”
Dizzy pulled up her pants and let out a sigh. “Cut my pants? Why, I ought to...”
“You’re welcome,” I replied. “You are a terrible patient.”
“I’ve yet to meet a good one,” Dizzy replied as she got to her feet.
I grabbed a second bandage from the bag. While we were here, I might as well take care of the gouge on the back of my left wrist. When I finished, my left hand looked like a mummy’s, but at least I didn’t have to look at the wound.
The first aid work had given us a moment to catch our breath. We weren’t exactly rested, but we were patched up and ready to go after the Grail.
The four of us started down the path. We walked in silence.
The torches lining the path extinguished themselves, plunging the tunnel into the darkness.
Murdoch raised a small handheld torch that illuminated the path ahead. After about twenty feet, the edges of the corridor simply fell away, leaving only a narrow strip of stone in the center of the path. On either side of the path opened a yawning void of inky darkness. It seemed to absorb the light from the torch without the light penetrating its depths at all.
“Single file, don’t look down, and don’t stray from the path,” Murdoch said as he stepped out onto the bridge.
We shuffled across it. I did my best to keep my eyes on the path ahead rather than the all-consuming void on either side of the bridge, but as I walked, I felt drawn to it.
Tearing my eyes away from the darkness, I pushed on.
When I reached the end of the bridge, I tossed one of my small-illuminated orbs into the void. No sooner had it passed the level of the path than it vanished entirely.
I stopped, listening for an impact that never came.
“Well, that’s unsettling,” I muttered.
“Simply a test,” Murdoch said. “One must be able to walk by faith, the straight and narrow path that leads to eternal life.”
I was hardly in the mood for a theological lesson and was glad my father had never bothered dragging me along to Sunday school.
As we passed another threshold, the torches flared to life.
We pressed on.
The path turned, and abruptly we came face-to-face with a leadlight window. It featured the image of Jesus Christ, standing before the tomb, the stone rolled back.
Murdoch dropped to his knees in reverence, and we all followed suit.
A mono-filament wire as fine as fishing line raced through the tunnel at head height. It ran along a track in the walls beside us before the wire vanished back into the roof about ten feet behind us. The wire could have cut a person’s head clean off.
“Armor wouldn’t have helped you,” Murdoch whispered as if in answer to my unasked question.
There was a whiz as the mechanism reset and Murdoch rose to his feet, leading us forward once more.
The path turned right and opened into an enormous chamber that reminded me of the cave of wonders in Aladdin. Gold coins were heaped in mountains on either side of the path. Wooden chests laden with precious jewels lay everywhere. Off to one side, a giant red ruby sat in a gold fitting in the middle of a stone table.
The room stretched for a good thirty feet.
It was a fortune that could have changed the course of countries.
“Like I said, touch nothing,” Murdoch said.
Given I could transmute anything to solid gold, I shrugged off the warning. There was nothing here I couldn’t get if I wanted it.
“Gold I’ve got, Murdoch. You don’t have to worry about me.”
Murdoch leaned close to me. “The test is different for every man and will eventually ask of you that which is most difficult to give.”
I nodded soberly. “I get it, Murdoch.”
“No, you don’t, Seth, but you will. Before we reach the Grail, every man must be tried and found worthy. Man looks on the outward appearance, but the Lord looketh on the heart. You must be pure of heart, Seth. You all must be.”
As we traversed the room, something caught my eye.
A tome rested on a closed chest. Etched on its cover in Spanish were the words, Ritos de sangre. It meant: Blood Rites. I hesitated. The tome seemed to call to me. The Spanish weren’t particularly well known for blood magic, but that was in the present day. The tome looked centuries old, and it was the conquistadors who had first encountered the Las Brujas de Sangre.
Had someone made a record of the coven?
I tore my eyes from the tome, Murdoch’s warning ringing in my ears. I wasn’t trading my soul for some whispered promise of a cure.
I forced my way out of the chamber and came face to face with an immense set of doors, formed of some alloy I was unfamiliar with. It looked like titanium but had a strange swirling grain passing through it.
In the middle of the door, at eye level, was a single keyhole.
Murdoch reached into his pocket and drew out the key.
“What now?” I asked.
“Now we wait for the others to reach their gateway. When it opens, there will be a massive bridge leading to the temple’s inner sanctuary. It will be a race to the Grail.”
Murdoch slid his key into the door but didn’t turn it.
I drew out a muesli bar from my pocket and peeled open the packet. I took a bite and held the bar out to the others.
“Anyone hungry?”
“I could use a drink,” Lara replied as she went for her canteen.
A massive earthquake shook the floor of the tunnel. My muesli bar, still half in its wrapper, fell to the floor. Lara’s canteen spilled water everywhere as she tried to get the lid back on.
“Murdoch, what’s happening?” I called over the rumbling.
His face whitened, the color draining out of it.
“Someone didn’t wait,” he whispered. “They turned their key, opened the sanctum, and unleashed the temple’s defenses.”
With a grinding howl, the enormous door to the inner sanctum started sinking into the floor.