by Jeff Gunhus
Chapter Twelve
According to the brochure we picked up as we entered, the architects of all medieval cathedrals had built their structures to honor God but to also invoke a sense of awe among the common people. It was impossible to look at the massive interior and not feel they accomplished their first goal. They sure accomplished the second.
The ceiling soared nearly sixty feet above with a wide span of open space between the two rows of massive stone pillars. The floor plan resembled a cross with the longest section stretching in front of us and the shorter section intersecting it about two thirds of the way forward. Where these sections met stood a raised dais used by the clergy. There were no chairs as you might expect in a church, only a stretch of stone floor the size of a football field filled with congregants and tourists. A combination of whispered prayers and clicks of cameras echoed through the space.
On each side of the main area, on the outside of the pillars, were a series of small chapels, each for a different saint. Memorials dating back through the centuries covered the walls, artwork from great masters and carved woodwork decorated the cold stone.
Most impressive of all were the stained glass windows I’d seen from outside. Now I counted dozens lining the upper walls, each pane a work of art. Hundreds of thousands of tiny pieces of glass placed together perfectly depicted scenes from the Bible. The light outside lit up the windows and took my breath away.
“Wow,” T-Rex breathed next to me.
“Wow,” I agreed, not sure what else to say.
“Look at the size of this place,” Will whispered.
His comment brought me back to reality. We had a job to do and not long to do it. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s split up, T-Rex to the left, Will to the right, and I’ll go down the middle. We’ll meet on the far end in half an hour. If you find anything, come get the other two. Got it?”
They both nodded, but I got the sense they barely heard me. They wandered away in the direction I sent them, still gawking at the enormity of the cathedral. I didn’t blame them since I was still doing the same.
I moved down the center, examining the stained glass windows as I walked, looking for anything to do with our riddle. Every so often I’d realize I was standing still, my eyes lost in the sea of jeweled colors in one of the windows. Deep ruby colors, blues that rippled like water, greens that glowed as if alive. I had to shake myself out this half-trance repeatedly and refocus on my task.
I examined as much as I could, mindful of the minutes ticking away. But nothing I saw fit the description of the riddle. As I neared the far end I caught sight of T-Rex to my left. He was kneeling in front of a table covered with prayer candles. Dozens of tiny flames flickered in front of him as he raised a candle and leveled it with one already lit. Slowly, reverently, he placed it in a small hole on the table and joined it with the other prayers left there.
I felt Will slide up next to me and, without a word spoken between us, we made our way over to T-Rex. When we got there, I wasn’t surprised to that his cheeks were streaked with tears. He looked up at us and furiously wiped them away.
“You know, I just miss my Grandma is all,” he whispered. “I worry about her.”
Will slung an arm over T-Rex’s shoulder. “I’m sure she’s okay. She’d be proud of you.”
“You think?” T-Rex asked.
I grabbed him by the arm. “You’re on a quest against the forces of darkness to save all of humanity,” I said. “What Grandma wouldn’t be proud of that?”
T-Rex wiped his runny nose and grinned. “Well, when you put it that way, it does sound pretty cool.”
“It is cool,” Will said, slapping him on the back.
“She would like that you lit a candle for her,” I said softly. “That’s nice.”
“Do you want to light one for anyone?” T-Rex asked
I took a candle and rolled it in my hands. My thoughts went to all the people relying on me, all that had sacrificed to get me this far in my quest. I lit the candle for them. I wasn’t very religious – a devil-werewolf had raised me after all – but I still said a quiet prayer for Aunt Sophie, Hester and Tiberon, that their souls had found peace and that their sacrifice would prove to be worthwhile.
“How about you, Will?” T-Rex asked.
“Ha!” Will snorted. “Nobody back home worth thinking about. I know they’re not thinking about me.”
He tried to sound cavalier about it, but the hurt was clear in his voice. I remembered the bruises Will used to come to school with when his dad had a bad day. I felt powerless and afraid when I saw them. Even though it had only been a few months ago, I felt like I’d been a little kid back then, scared of this terrible adult I couldn’t understand. Now, it was different. Now if I saw bruises on Will, I wouldn’t hesitate to go visit his dad myself and set him straight. I wondered if Will felt the same way.
But this also made me think again of my own mother’s plea to me when she’d come to me after I drowned, begging for my forgiveness. Her eyes had been stricken with guilt. But for what?
I was roused from my thoughts by Will nudging me aside so he could place a candle on the table. He caught my eye and murmured, “It’s for us. I figure we need all the help we can get.” I nodded, and we all stood silent for a few seconds, watching the flames dance.
We’d covered the entire interior and still we had nothing to go on. Not even anything remotely close to a clue. Sure there were thousands of small details in the stonework, the intricate woodcarvings, and in the stain glass windows that we hadn’t studied yet, but I’d hoped something would pop out at us. But nothing had and time was up.
“Come on,” I finally said. “It’s time to meet the others. Hopefully they had a little more luck than we did.”
On the way out the front door, I saw a stand containing brochures for various tourist attractions in Paris. I was about to pass it when one caught my eye. I stopped and grabbed a glossy brochure, looking it over front and back excitedly. The picture on it looked exactly like the image Tiberon had given me of the Lord of the Vampire’s lair.
“Are you coming?” Will called.
I folded up the brochure and stuffed it into my back pocket. I jogged to catch up with the others.
Daniel, Eva and Xavier were already waiting for us. Without even asking, I knew they had struck out too.
“Nothing but bird droppings and big bells,” Eva reported.
“Maybe it’s the other tower,” Will suggested.
Xavier shook his head. “We were able to go to both of them. There might be something we missed, but on first look there was nothing there that matched the riddle.”
“How about inside?” Eva asked.
I shook my head. “Same thing. It’s going to take weeks to look at every tapestry, carving and stained glass window. The more I think about it, the clue we’re looking for probably isn’t going to be right in front of us.”
“Uhh…guys…” T-Rex mumbled.
“Maybe it’s on the outside of the building,” Will said. “I mean look at all those gargoyles and statues. They’re all over the place.”
“Guys…you’re not going to believe—” T-Rex said.
“Will’s right,” Daniel said. “The riddle sounds grotesque. ‘Once it ate someone who carried his head.’ Sounds like a gargoyle-type creature to me.”
T-Rex pulled on my shirt sleeve. I assumed he’d spotted a food vendor walking by, so I ignored him. “Agreed, we should split up again into two teams. One inside, one outside.”
“Jack…” T-Rex sounded more insistent now.
“Remember, the clue is bound to be well hidden and obscure, so look at everything closely,” I said.
“Are you done yet?” T-Rex said, his exasperation now replaced with a strange smugness.
“Yeah, we’re ready to split up,” I replied.
“Good, because I didn’t want to be too much of a bother,” T-Rex said. “All I wanted to show you guys was that…”
We all turned to lo
ok where T-Rex pointed. Right near the front entrance was a row of bronze sculptures positioned about fifteen feet up the wall. They were green from being exposed to the weather but were otherwise in excellent condition. The statues were life-sized. One looked like a king of some kind with a crown on his head, and then there were two angels with beautiful wings coming off their shoulders. In between the angels was the statue that made my heart pound in my chest. It was a statue of a decapitated body, the smiling head carried in his hands.
“Hmm…,” T-Rex purred. “Looks to me like that might be a good candidate for the man who carried his head...since he’s a man carrying his head and all.”
I slapped him on the back, still not believing the clue could have been right in front of us. “Good job!” I cried. We all made a fuss over him because we probably all felt a little guilty for having ignored him when he was trying to get our attention.
I resisted the temptation to run over to the statue. Instead, we worked our way over to it as if we were any other group of tourists taking in the small details of the cathedral. Sure enough, it was plainly a beheaded man cradling his own head. But after we got over the initial excitement of this link to the riddle, it settled in that none of us had a clue how it fit in with the rest of it.
Start in the place where beginnings meet ends.
Look for a roost that a creature defends.
Once it ate someone who carried his head,
Now hides a talisman vampires all dread.
We looked all over that area of the cathedral but there was nothing even close to a bird, roost, or something that might eat the statue.
“The angels have wings,” Will offered. “Could they be the birds in the riddle?”
“Maybe it’s one of the gargoyles,” Daniel said, pointing to some very nasty looking ones high above. Their gaping mouths served as rain gutters and helped to keep rainwater from cascading down the side of the building. This practical purpose made them look even more frightening.
Xavier took up the idea. “They are made of stone, so they would eat stone, right? Maybe they would eat the statue of the man?”
I thought this was a stretch, but I didn’t have any better ideas. “Are there any gargoyles with feathers? Maybe a beak?”
We craned our necks, looking up at the carvings. I didn’t even notice Eva grab a uniformed tour guide walking past us.
“Excuse me,” Eva said in pleasant schoolgirl voice. “I know we’re not part of your tour, but my friends and I were curious about this strange statue.” She pointed to our new headless friend.
The tour guide, a young man in his early twenties, had looked to be in a hurry. But a pretty girl asking for help made wherever he was in a hurry to go a lot less important. He looked disappointed when he saw the rest of her friends were a bunch of guys, but that didn’t stop him. The badge on his chest showed his name in big capital letters: RUSTY.
“You picked a good one,” Rusty said. “He’s the least boring saint up there. Comes with a really interesting story too.” He eyed the rest of us. “You all can still sign up for the tour. Twenty bucks apiece.”
Eva handled it. She stepped a little too close to him and put her hand on his forearm. “We have a train to catch,” she lied. “We don’t have time for a full tour. Can’t you just tell us the story? You know, real quick like?”
Ol’ Rusty looked disappointed he wasn’t going to have a cash windfall, but he couldn’t resist Eva. “Okay, real quick. I’ll leave out the theatrics I do on the tour.”
“He could be done with the story by now,” Daniel muttered to me under his breath. I smiled but listened to our new guide.
“That’s St. Denis. He’s one of the reasons this area is considered a holy site,” Rusty began, clearly going off a memorized script. “In the third century, St. Denis was the first bishop of Paris. But he was too good at his job. The pagan priests at the time didn’t like how many people he was converting to Christianity, so they had the Roman guard in town capture and kill him.”
“Let me guess,” Will said. “They cut off his head.”
Rusty frowned at the intrusion. “Yes. They cut off his head. But then things got interesting. The story is that St. Denis’s body went groping around the ground until he found his head. Once he did, he cradled it in his hands and walked away.”
“How far did he walk?” T-Rex asked.
This time Rusty smiled. That was the question he wanted. He pointed to the south. “See that big white church on that hill over there? The one that looks like it popped out of an Arabian Nights book?” We all looked and saw what he was pointing at, an enormous church on the tallest hill in town that glistened bright white. “The basilica is Sacre Coeur and that hill is called Montmartre. The Mountain of the Martyr. That’s in reference to St. Denis. His head was chopped off there, and he supposedly walked nearly all the way here, over ten kilometers. Which is almost six miles. Preaching a sermon along the way.”
“That seems a little unbelievable,” Eva said. Given the things she’d been exposed to as a monster hunter, I knew she was just goading our guide to tell us more.
“There were hundreds of witnesses who all swear it was the truth. And you can Google it.” Rusty leaned in close to her, pretending to carry a head in his hands, milking the drama. “At the end, he walked up to a woman, handed his head to her, then fell over dead.”
“Who was the woman?” I asked.
Rusty looked annoyed that I’d bothered him ogling Eva. He answered me without looking away from her. She pretended to be flattered by the attention. “I don’t know. A nobody.”
“Where is he buried?” Xavier asked.
Rusty swung around, looking tired of the game we were playing. “Look, I’m glad you like history and all. But I’m a paid tour guide. I don’t mind telling you,” he nodded at Eva, “but you boys are going to have to pay if you want big Rusty’s knowledge.”
“Big Rusty?” Will mouthed the words silently behind Rusty’s back, barely able to keep from cracking up.
I pulled a twenty-dollar bill out of my pocket and handed it to Rusty. He reached for it, and I pulled it back out of his reach. “Tell us the rest of what you know,” I said.
“What? You guys don’t know how to use Google?”
“We lost our phones,” Daniel said, glaring at him. Rusty shifted uncomfortably on his feet. He glanced around as if seeing us for the first time. All our pretense of being tourists with an idle curiosity was gone. We all stared at him, waiting for him to continue.
“Uhhh…the Basilica of St. Denis is north of here,” he said unsteadily. “It’s where all the French Kings are buried too. Can I go now?”
“No one’s keeping you, Rusty. Of course you can go,” I said. Rusty tried to leave but Daniel stood in his way. He turned a different direction and ran into a serious-looking Eva. “But if you’re staying, I have one more question for you,” I finished.
“Yeah? What’s that?” he asked nervously.
“There’s this nursery rhyme that’s stuck in my head. I thought maybe you might know what it means.”
Rusty swallowed hard. “OK, what is it?”
“Look for a roost that a creature defends. Once it ate someone who carried his head. Does that mean anything to you?”
Rusty gulped, and I found myself feeling bad for him. Even though he’d acted like a pig to Eva, he looked really nervous now. I was about to give him a break and let him go when I saw something click, and he twisted around to look at the top of Notre Dame. “Of course,” he said.
“Of course what?” I said.
He turned to me, looking smug. “I know the answer. But the question is, what’s it worth to you? I work the streets. I know desperation when I see it.”
“Do you know a broken arm when you see it?” Eva said, dropping her schoolgirl persona once and for all. I put up my arm and held her back.
“Twenty dollars,” I said. “And you get to keep all your bones intact.”
Rusty nodded and shrugged
apologetically. “You can’t blame me for trying.” He took the twenty and stuffed it in his pocket. He walked away from the cathedral and Daniel stepped in front of him. “If you want your answer, tell this oaf to get out of my way.”
I waved Daniel off and we all followed Rusty out into the courtyard. After a while, Rusty turned to walk backward, craning his neck as he watched the roofline. “There,” he exclaimed. “As the locals say, voila.”
We all looked at the top of the cathedral and saw nothing out of the ordinary.
“Okay, what are we looking for?” I asked.
“Look farther back, right between the two bell towers. What do you see?” Rusty asked, clearly enjoying the game.
An immense spire attached to the center of the cathedral roof rose to the sky. “I see a spire,” I said.
“But what do you see at the very top?” Rusty asked.
We all squinted, but all I could make out was a dark blob on top of the thin spire. “I give up. What is it?”
“Believe it or not, it’s a canister that holds three relics,” Rusty said. “You do know what relics are, right?”
Xavier came to the rescue. “Relics can either be items touched by the saints or parts of their bodies. All cathedrals have a relic of some kind. Like a leg bone or something.”
“That’s kind of gross, isn’t it?” T-Rex asked.
Rusty ignored the comment and kept going. “In that canister are three relics. A piece of the crown of thorns, a relic of St. Genieve, and…”
“A relic of St. Denis,” Will guessed.
“Bingo. And guess what creature the canister is shaped like?” Rusty said, stretching it out for effect. “Not a cow. Not a dog. But a rooster.”
Look for a roost that a creature defends. Once it ate someone who carried his head. It fit perfectly.
“Okay, Rusty,” I said. “Time for you to go.”
Daniel pulled his sword from his side. Rusty’s eyes went wide and he took off running. I shook my head at Daniel. “I didn’t mean he had to go.”