‘Darling, I think she should know about Giza,’ she went on. There was only one person she ever called ‘darling’ so I knew she was speaking to Dad. I didn’t catch much else as Dad seemed to be doing most of the talking, so I tiptoed back to my room and closed the door. Then I sat on my bed to think.
The unusual light-bodies of those men in the mall was a result of taking too much of the ORME substance, which meant they were semi-human demons and to be feared. Mum must have known this, but surely she wouldn’t think a mall security team could keep such beings in check! A cold shiver ran through my body: I was in danger. But then I calmed myself: they couldn’t possibly know about my connection to Kali. Nobody did, but me.
When Mum brought me my lunch and some painkillers, my head was too sore to start drilling her about her odd behaviour at the mall. But after the food and aspirin, my headache eased and I felt well enough to carry on with my reading. I decided to leave my confrontation with Mum until later and settled down to finish the tale of Amenti.
SUSAN DEVERE JOURNALISING ON BEHALF OF LADY ASHLEE GRANVILLE-DEVERE
ROOT RACE FIVE—PHYSICAL (1244 AD); THE CATHARI
I hide alone in the darkness, terrified, trembling uncontrollably. My guardian, Pierre de Saint-Martin, has just been slain in his sleep by Sir Christian Molier. Molier claimed that he and his knights were sent to us by Marie de Saint-Clair, the Grand Master of the order of the Priory of Sion, to guide us here to the Chateau de Blanchefort, where we were to deliver a holy treasure of great significance into safekeeping. My sister, Lillet du Lac, and I, Lilitu, were aided in our escape from Montsègur by another knight, Sir Albray Devere, who also claimed to have been sent by the Grand Master. Molier claimed Devere was an impostor, and we believed him and allowed Molier’s men to drag him away. When Molier informed us earlier this night of Devere’s escape from his captors, I thought it was terrible news, but now he is my only hope.
I huddle in this closet across the hall from my deceased guardian’s sleeping quarters. I was on my way to speak with him when I heard the sound of several knights ascending the stairs. Fearful of being cornered by unfamiliar men this late at night, I hid in the closet. It petrifies me to think that had I not concealed myself, I would now be lying dead alongside my guardian. I hug the treasure in my charge to my person—a scroll, crafted from a resilient, lightweight metal that gives off a strange glow and is a mystery to all who see it. This scroll is said to hold ancient text of vital import, but as no one knows how to open its lock, no one really knows what it contains. Still, many people have died throughout the ages to ensure the treasure’s safety, and now my sister and I are its guardians.
Lillet. She is in danger. I must warn her.
I steel myself to open the closet and step outside, but then pause. My sister will kill me herself if I jeopardise the treasure in my charge for the sake of her life. She will say I allowed selfish sentiment to outweigh my better judgement; Lillet cannot abide such weakness of character.
I must stay strong.
I wipe the tears from my face and steady my erratic breathing so I might listen for events unfolding in the chateau. I feel a wetness at my feet and realise that the blood of my guardian has flowed across the hall and under the door of the closet. I shrink away from its advance.
Suddenly I hear voices: Molier’s guards are everywhere, shouting orders to search every room, and I fear I shall be found. I grip the hilt of the dagger I wear on my girdle, knowing I do not have the courage to use it.
‘If Devere has taken the priestess, we won’t see them for dust,’ comments one of the knights as they work their way down the hallway towards my closet.
Devere has saved Lillet! I breathe a sigh of relief. But who will save me?
‘At least it gives us someone to pin de Saint-Martin’s murder on,’ another knight responds. They laugh at the fortunate coincidence. I am appalled by their blatant treachery, and wonder what lies they will tell about me after my murder.
‘I hope we find that other little priestess,’ says the first knight, ‘I could do with some entertainment.’
His desire is echoed by various others and I block my ears, not wishing to hear their foul suggestions. I wriggle to the back wall of the closet and into a corner where I hope I may not be spotted. My head collides with a hard metal object and I am not quick enough to smother my pained cry of surprise.
‘Did you hear that?’ one of the knights asks. They know where I am; I hear them approaching.
I reach up to identify the item that has betrayed me—a long clothes hook. I grasp it for support, almost swooning at the thought of my imminent fate. God help me, I pray, and as I lean against the closet wall, the hook drops and a small door opens at my back. I fall through the void and land on my behind some distance below. The door closes, leaving me in utter darkness.
I am stunned by my deliverance and remain silent as the knights search the closet above. ‘You are imagining things,’ one of them tells the other, and they close the door and resume their search of the chateau.
I rise and turn to confront the pitch-dark space ahead of me. I wonder where the Blanchefort family stand in all this. Are they in league with Molier, or are they also in mortal danger? Then a tap on the shoulder scares me witless.
‘It is I, Madame de Blanchefort,’ a woman whispers. ‘We were worried about you, Lilitu. Come with me, I know a safe place where we can wait this out.’ The lady finds my hand in the darkness and leads me through a maze of dark underground passages.
‘Sir Molier murdered my Lord de Saint-Martin,’ I whisper, hoping to gauge from her response where my lady’s loyalties lie.
‘I am sorry,’ she replies. ‘But the good news is that Albray Devere has your sister safely away from here, and now you are safe with us. My Lord Comte is currently in the great hall, pretending to swallow Molier’s account of the night’s events. It seems the knight is eager to set off after Devere, and we intend to let him…eventually.’
‘No, you must not let him go after Lillet!’
‘Your sister is in the safest of hands,’ Madame de Blanchefort assures me. ‘We will stall Molier as long as we can, but our priority now is to see you to safety.’
‘I am starting to think there is nowhere I shall be safe from the Inquisition,’ I say. ‘No one who can protect us.’
‘There is someone,’ she tells me encouragingly. ‘I assure you, there is light at the end of the tunnel.’
My lady pushes open a door and we enter a room bathed in candlelight and firelight. I realise it must be a secret room for there are no windows, but several doors, each giving access to a different part of the chateau, I assume. Despite the stone walls and lack of decoration, it is a cosy room with a large rug to insulate the floor, and pillows and blankets on the lounge and chairs. It seems Madame de Blanchefort knows how to wait out a crisis in comfort.
Then I notice a female hand resting on the arm of a chair facing the fire. A plain gold band adorns the ring finger, distinctive because of its unusual illumination. To the untrained eye this would pass as pink-gold, but I recognise it to be of the same super-metal as the ancient scroll in my charge. There is only one such ring in existence that I know of and it is worn by the Grand Master of the Priory of Sion. The ring was originally found beneath Solomon’s Temple in Jerusalem, along with the scroll that is now in my charge.
‘My Lady de Saint-Clair?’ I ask tentatively. But what was she doing here?
‘Your Holiness.’ She turns in her chair to bow her head to me. ‘Forgive my lack of reverence, Lady, but I am weary from my journey.’
I insist that she refrains from humbling herself in my presence. ‘No, it is I who am honoured.’
She motions to the seat alongside hers. ‘Do not fear for your sister,’ she says. ‘Sir Albray Devere is more reliable than an army of guards—he is one of my two most trusted allies.’
I am reassured by her words. Although I do not mean to seem rude, I cannot stop my eyes from drifting to her ring.
‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ She holds out her hand so we may both admire it. ‘It is no ordinary ring, and for a long time after it was found no one was aware of its extraordinary purpose. It was given to my greatuncle, Henry de Saint-Clair, by Godefroi de Bouillon, after he aided him to take Jerusalem and uncover the secret treasure of Solomon.’
‘And what is its extraordinary purpose?’ I cannot allow such a comment to pass.
Before my lady can answer, we hear footsteps approaching from behind one of the doors into the room.
‘Fear not, Lilitu,’ Madame de Blanchefort tells me, ‘that door leads down through the mount. It is your salvation that approaches.’
‘My salvation?’ I look to Lady de Saint-Clair for answers.
She nods. ‘The other trusted ally I was telling you about.’
The door opens and a tall, fair-haired fellow breezes into our midst, wearing attire unlike any I have seen. The soft fabric of his shirt and the leather and tailoring of his vest and trousers is far superior to anything available on the continent; the craftsmanship of his long brown boots is also remarkable. His belt is equipped with all manner of weapons, some that I recognise and some I do not. Had our guest not been so well dressed, I would have thought him a pirate or a treasure hunter. On his right hand I spot an illuminated ring that is exactly the same as the one worn by Lady de Saint-Clair. I look back to her.
‘Allow me to introduce a future relative of mine,’ she says, ‘Prince Henry Sinclair.’
I gasp to learn that our mysterious guest is nobility. ‘A future relative, my lady?’ I query as I bow my head in respect to the prince.
‘I prefer the title of captain, as my Lady de Saint-Clair well knows,’ the man says, dismissing any formalities. ‘And in answer to your query, I will be a relative of my Lady de Saint-Clair when I am born in the next century.’
‘How can it be that you are here then, captain?’ I was completely confused.
He smiles to soften his stalling of my interrogation. ‘My lady, I have an urgent matter I must attend to, so if you require my aid you must enlighten me as to how with all due haste.’
‘Show him your treasure, my Lady du Lac,’ the Grand Master encourages me. As my holy order is allied to the Order of Sion, I obey and produce my treasure for the captain to inspect.
He smiles and rubs his hands together in delight. ‘And what does this scroll contain?’
‘I was told it contains information that would validate my bloodline,’ I say, allowing him to lift my treasure from my fingers.
‘A genealogy?’ He frowns, seeming confused. ‘This scroll is a product of the inter-time war, which has little to do with legal kingship.’
I have no idea what the captain is talking about. ‘That is what I was told,’ I say.
‘I am not one for hearsay myself.’ Captain Sinclair kneels by a low coffee table and sets the scroll upon it. ‘Let us take a look, shall we?’
‘No!’ I protest, sure that he will damage the treasure. ‘No one has been able to get it—’
The captain touches the lock and the scroll unfurls, displaying its secret contents.
‘—open,’ I finish, utterly astonished. I kneel beside him at the table. ‘What is it?’ I ask, then I see that the page of the scroll is completely blank. I am sickened by the rush of fury I feel. ‘Thousands have died for this!’
‘Wait,’ he urges me, and the page fills with light. I am astounded all over again. ‘I have dreamt of this map’s existence,’ he informs me, excited by the discovery. ‘And you are right—it will help to validate those of your bloodline, in a sense.’
‘It is a map?’ I gape at the page that now displays the picture of a globe, akin to the moon, but this globe is ablaze with colour, from deep green to burnt orange, and vast patches of blue beneath whorls of white. There are brightly coloured purple spots marked all over the globe, and as the captain touches these markers, text appears on the page; it disappears when he withdraws his touch.
‘Is it magic?’ I gasp, amazed and petrified.
‘No.’ The captain assures me there is nothing to fear. ‘In a thousand years it will be easily explainable.’ He retracts the map and stands, still holding it. ‘I will see this to a safe place, have no fear of that.’
I felt I must protest. ‘Captain Sinclair, I am not questioning your integrity, but it is my charge to see that treasure to safety and I will not allow it out of my sight until that vow is fulfilled.’
Captain Sinclair appears most put out by my protest. ‘I cannot possibly take you where I am bound.’
‘Why not?’ I demand. ‘I am not afraid to die as I have seen so many others do for this cause.’
‘Indeed, captain,’ Lady de Saint-Clair interjects on my behalf. ‘Why not take her with you?’
‘Because…’ He stops himself short. ‘It is complicated, my lady, and I have no time to waste debating the matter.’
‘Then I suggest you do not debate it,’ my Lady de Saint Clair advises. ‘You of all people should not have trouble finding the time to return my Lady du Lac safely to us.’
The captain is getting a headache, I fear. ‘As you wish,’ he says and begrudgingly directs me towards the door by which he arrived. ‘Ladies.’ He bows his head in farewell.
‘You are welcome to return here when your task is done, Lilitu,’ Madame de Blanchefort tells me warmly as I follow the captain out of the room. He still holds my treasure in his hand.
‘I am so grateful to you both,’ I tell my lady allies, and wave a quick farewell as I begin to descend an old stairwell that spirals down deep into the Earth. The captain is ahead of me, using a strange luminous green stick to light his way.
‘You had best keep up,’ he calls back. ‘These stairs can be deadly in the dark.’
I hurry to catch up, but the stairs are wet and I find myself falling. My heart stops as I realise I am plunging towards a deep, dark cavity in the middle of the stairwell. If not for Captain Sinclair’s steadying arm about my waist, I would have toppled to my death. Instead, I watch my treasure scroll, knocked from the captain’s hand, drop down into the darkness. After what seems an age, it clatters to a landing below. I am mortified.
The captain sets me back on my own feet and makes haste down the stairs. Not wanting to lose the light again, I keep pace with him.
At the base of the deep descent, we recover the scroll and I am relieved to find it apparently unscathed. When the captain attempts to open it, however, he cannot. ‘Damn, jammed,’ he says.
I am so devastated by the prospect of having sabotaged my own mission that I begin to weep.
‘Not to worry, I have a man on board who should be able to repair this,’ the captain reassures me in an attempt to prevent my hysterics. Nevertheless, I can tell he is deeply disappointed by the setback. ‘Come on, we must go.’
He leads me through a large stone arch into a cavern that is filled by a large metal object—which my guide introduces as his ship, Kleio. The vessel is nestled tightly inside the cave and I marvel at how it came to be here and, more importantly, how the captain plans to get it out. I dare not question my saviour, however, as he seems not very well disposed towards me at present and I do not blame him. He wants me to volunteer to stay behind and save him the return trip, but I cannot, not with the future of my treasure in question.
The ship’s hatch locks behind us and the captain leads me quickly down a wide passageway. As I am dragged along by the hand, I marvel at the sleek architecture and the strange materials that form the interior of the ship.
‘Well, it’s about time!’
I turn to see another fair-haired gentleman approach from beyond the hatchway where we entered. He seems very surprised to see me.
‘Is that who I think it is?’ he asks the captain.
Captain Sinclair does not answer, but continues to drag me down the passage.
‘You cannot take her with us!’ the other man says.
‘I tried to tell my Lady du Lac just t
hat.’ The captain turns to emphasise the fact for my benefit. ‘But Sion needs her hidden, so we’ll just have to stow her in a cabin until after we’ve executed the next mission. After that, we’ll take her back to base so she can see her treasure safely stored, before we return her here, allowing for a time lapse of a year or so.’
The captain shows me into a cabin and looks to me for my approval of his plan.
‘I am very grateful for all your aid,’ I say, although I am uncertain about that last part—does Captain Sinclair mean to imply that I will be on board his ship for a year? I suddenly realise that for the first time in my life I actually feel safe, and the idea of a whole year of this security is very appealing.
The captain’s companion is still worried about my presence on board. ‘But what if she meets up with—’
‘Levi,’ the captain says discouragingly, ‘we will ensure that does not happen.’ He hands Levi my damaged treasure. ‘See what you can do with this.’
‘What is it?’ Levi fiddles with the lock.
‘The Signet Map,’ Captain Sinclair replies, and I am surprised to learn that he has a name for my treasure.
‘Whoa, it exists.’ Levi regards the scroll with more reverence.
‘Barely. It was dropped from a very great height.’
His crewmate isn’t pleased. ‘How could you let that happen?’
‘I lost my concentration for a second,’ the captain confesses, as if it had been his fault.
‘It was my fault,’ I said. ‘I slipped and knocked the scroll from the captain’s hands.’
‘I see.’ Levi looks to Sinclair, who looks even guiltier than I do. ‘So you had your hands full at the time?’
‘Can you fix it?’ I appeal, breaking the tension building between the two men.
‘I’ll see what I can do.’ Levi serves the captain a scornful look and heads back up the passageway.
Captain Sinclair turns back to me. ‘I have to leave you now and I suggest you sleep for a while. I’ll come and check on you when I can, but under no circumstances are you to leave this cabin. Is that understood?’
The Dragon Queens (The Mystique Trilogy) Page 39