Henryk shook his head. “No time. Some of the other commanders are beginning to unravel what the Bishop is up to. We have to get the children out tonight, and once that is done my cover will be blown.”
“I know the children are important, but if we fail to take the book, more children than these will suffer.”
“If it were just about the children I would tend to agree with you, but there is more to it.” He rubbed his chin, took off his cap, and then ran his fingers through his hair. “I’m fairly certain that Doctor Altman is suspicious of me. I overheard him on the phone with Command requesting to move the project to Berlin. If that happens we may never get a shot at the book. We need to strike now while we have a good distraction.” He motioned back toward the restaurant.
“But I still don’t see how the two of us can pull it off.”
He smiled. “I have a few men who are loyal to me, including the two guarding the laboratory.”
***
The two men at the door would let them in the lab. Henryk would convince the Doctor he was needed at the front of the building, and she would put the book in a satchel. From that point all they had to do was walk out the back of the building to the car waiting for them. Before anyone noticed the book was gone, they’d be halfway to their rendezvous with Jacques and the Bishop. The plan sounded relatively fool proof, but Hannah knew all too well how quickly the best plans could go awry. Henryk seemed pretty confident, but that was probably a necessary trait, given the kind of work he did.
Even the figures on the murals seemed to be watching them as they made their way toward the laboratory. Hannah pressed on her chest and took in a deep breath. She knew she had to get control of her fear. This was her only chance to save the book. There was no room for error.
Their footsteps on the cold marble announced their presence. The two guards snapped to attention, but eased a little when Henryk gave them some sort of hand signal. The man on the left jerked his head toward the door. “Herr Doctor is in the lab, Sir.”
“I figured as much.” He pointed to Hannah. “Miss Klein is with us. We’re going to make our move now. Konrad is waiting out back. I’m going to tell the good Doctor he has a package he needs to sign for. When he leaves, you two keep an eye out and give me a signal if there’s any trouble.”
Hannah grabbed Henryk’s arm. “How are we going to get out? There’s only one door in and out of the lab.”
“Actually there’s a door behind the cabinet on the back wall. It’s padlocked, but a good kick should bust the frame.” He smiled. “It’s just made of wood.”
With a quick nod from Henryk the man on the left opened the door. Doctor Altman was hunched over the book. He looked up when they entered, a large magnifying glass over his right eye. He squinted and then pushed it up, focusing on them.
“Lieutenant? Hannah? What are you doing here?”
“I’m afraid Miss Klein came under attack while she was on a lunch break from her research. I thought it best to bring her back to the safety of the lab until we can get the situation under control.”
The Doctor moved from behind the table, looking Hannah over. “Are you all right, my dear child?”
“Yes. Just a little shaken up.” She avoided his gaze, looking down at the floor.
“I’ll take it from here, Lieutenant. You may leave now.” The Doctor waved him away.
“I’m afraid a rather large package has arrived for you at the front entrance, Doctor.”
The Doctor furrowed his brow. “What is it?”
Henryk shrugged. “Haven’t a clue, but the driver won’t release it to anyone but you.”
“That’s odd.” The Doctor scratched his head. “I’m not expecting any deliveries.” He glanced around the room. “I’m really rather busy. Can you have him bring it here?”
Hannah kept her eyes to the floor, trying to hide her panicked look.
The pause before Henryk spoke seemed to go on for an eternity. “Given recent events, I’d feel more comfortable if you went outside and examined the package before we bring it into a high security area. I’d hate to jeopardize such an important project.”
“Oh very well.” The Doctor started to leave, but stopped at the door. “Aren’t you coming Lieutenant?”
“No. I have a few questions for Miss Klein about the men who attacked her.” He met the Doctor’s eyes. “It shouldn’t take long.”
The Doctor turned without a word and left them alone in the room. Although Hannah still felt another presence. The book pulled at her like metal to a magnet. It wasn’t forceful this time, just something at the periphery of her being, more of a longing than a pull.
“Quick, put the book in the satchel while I move the cabinet and work on the door.” Henryk handed her the bag he’d had folded under his coat. He was across the room and pushing on the cabinet before she made it to the book.
The Doctor had put it back inside the metal box, but the lid was off and the Eye of Jupiter pulsed in faint intervals. The light intensified the closer she got to it. Blurred images flashed across the surface and swirled down into the center of the stone. She reached into the box and grabbed the book on each side. Gentle electric tendrils caressed her skin and sent warmth up her spine to the base of her neck. It was a pleasant sensation. A feeling of connectedness, completion.
The book wouldn’t budge. She pulled again. Still nothing. She could see no obvious device holding it in place, but it held firmly nonetheless. Henryk must have seen her struggle because he looked at her questioningly.
“It’s stuck. I can’t get it out of the box.”
“Take the whole box.”
She shook her head. “No good. It won’t move either. It’s as though it’s welded to the table.” She looked down at the floor and then wished she hadn’t. “The damn table is bolted to the floor.”
“There may be some tools in the car. I’ll get the door open and then—“
Gunfire drowned out his words. Henryk jumped over the table, kicked over a metal shelf in front of them, and pulled out his pistol. The door exploded inward pelting them with debris. Henryk didn’t wait to see who came through. He fired three times dropping the first soldier. The man behind returned fire, forcing them to take cover. Hannah could just barely hear Doctor Altman over the chaos.
“Traitors! Kill them both!”
Hannah covered her head, her mind racing. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Henryk pull a grenade from his belt and lob it toward the door. The gunfire stopped, only to be replaced by moaning. She pushed it all away and called to the book. Help me now if it is in your power.
Take the Eye and flee. The gathering will reunite us.
And with those words Hannah knew what had to be done.
“Cover me!” She jumped up without waiting for a response from Henryk. He answered her by laying down a barrage of gunfire.
The Eye reflected a golden hue. She pressed her palms over its smooth surface, spoke the necessary words, and twisted. The eye lifted out of the book, now a complete sphere in her hands.
Henryk was up and at her side. He didn’t even question her, he just pointed his gun at the back door and fired at the lock. It shattered and the door flew outward. His men responded quickly, rushing the steps that led up to the back of the building. She tucked the Eye of Jupiter under her arm and started for the door. A maniacal scream pierced the room. She turned around to see Doctor Altman standing in the wreckage of the front door, smoke billowing up from the floor and two more soldiers at his side. A gun was in his right hand.
“Return the Eye to me, Protector.”
Henryk swiveled and took aim, but not before the Doctor fired. It took her a second to realize she’d been shot. At first it was just an odd pressure in her chest, followed by another, until she realized she’d been shot two more times.
Henryk fired again and again. She saw the Doctor double over and fall to the floor. The two men that had rushed up the back steps were now in the room and doing their best to pin down the
soldiers. Hannah stumbled back into the table, nearly losing her grip on the Eye. The terror on Henryk’s face was evident. He jammed his gun in its holster and rushed to her side, catching her before she hit the floor.
She moved in and out of consciousness as he carried her to the car. With each beat of her heart the lights grew dimmer. She was faintly aware of Henryk shouting and the car moving. Her hands were still wrapped around the Eye and her face was pushed into the leather seat. She struggled to speak.
“Henryk?”
“Don’t speak. Save your strength. I’m going to get you some help.”
“There’s no time.”
She felt his hand on hers. “Just hang on. You can make it.” His voice was strained, fearful.
“Listen to me, Henryk. You must take the Eye to my cousin in Berlin. My brother Andrew will help you.”
He squeezed her hand. “Just stay with us a little longer.”
“I have work to do now. Remember, take the Eye when I pass. The Bishop will help you find Andrew.”
Whatever Henryk said, she didn’t hear it. After she spoke her last words, she pushed all that was left of her being into the Eye of Jupiter. There was still work to be done and her time would be short. ***
Even though Hannah knew she was inside the Eye, or at least her spirit was, she still had a rather difficult time making sense of it. While she could see out from the clear stone to the world beyond, she had no physical body with which to traverse. The space she occupied seemed infinite, not constrained to the inner dimensions of the clear orb that had been in her hands only moments ago. There were currents of energy, lines of power, extending outward from the center, crossing each other, and creating an immense spider web that stretched out beyond the horizon. Somehow she knew that she could step on one of these lines and trace out its connection. Some of the lines were stronger than the others, pulsing brighter. She reached out to the nearest.
Below her, a vast continent of ice. She understood that she was not physically transported to this location; rather she was shown the path of this particular line. The line snaked and writhed, penetrating the surface of the Earth and extending down to the core. She reached out again and was transported back to the center.
Once more she grabbed one of the lines of power and was whisked away to another location. This time she was sitting on the surface of the moon, looking down at the Earth below. A thick, golden line extended from somewhere beneath her and plunged toward the surface of the blue planet, vanishing beneath the clouds. She turned and examined the stars beyond the moon, noticing for the first time delicate golden threads connecting each one to the other.
The realization came to her as though a fog had lifted. Each line of power was a connection, a connection that could be altered by introducing a sequence of commands into the streams of energy. She knew at once what she needed to do. It was the only way to keep the catastrophic power of the book from being unleashed, should the Eye be reunited with its host. That’s what the book really was, a host and a lexicon of sorts that could channel energy through the Eye. All of the power resided within the clear orb, and now she would lock it away until she could be reborn. Again she touched the line of power and returned to the center.
The center was the hub and the point of origination for all of the power harnessed within. From this point, she had but to speak the words and continents would tremble, the skies would open up and the seas would boil. She addressed the Eye.
“Do you know who I am?”
Yes, you are the sixth seal, protector and binder of the book of power.
“Do you acknowledge my dominion over you and all you contain?”
Yes, your will is mine, Protector. I sense your wishes.
“And you know how to put into action these wishes?”
You have but to speak it and so it shall be.
“From this day forward you will answer only to me, in any of my forms. We will speak in a tongue I have created myself from an ancient language. Do you understand it? Can you pull it from my mind?”
Your knowledge is mine, and mine is yours, Protector.
“Very good. You will know me as Digamma and address me as such. I will leave a piece of myself here so that no one else may enter this place.”
Sicut dicitur, Digamma.
Unbound
There was an unmistakable pressure in the room. Ana locked eyes with Martin, though not by choice. Every fiber of her being struggled against his impositions, but to no avail. His will was ancient, unmoving, malevolent.
“The Eye, child.” Martin stretched out his bony fingers.
Ana watched as a spectator. Her legs trembled and lurched forward, the black, smoke tendrils still gripping her ankles. The same black smoke still swirled where Martin’s pupils should have been as he took possession of the Eye from her.
“Now, child, you will accompany us to the place of power.” He looked over her shoulder then back again. “Don’t worry, we’ll bring your father along. He may prove useful should you become uncooperative.”
The pressure in the room increased and a gentle humming came to her ears. The now familiar black smoke billowed up from the floor until there was only darkness. The floor beneath her gave way, and she felt the force of movement, although unlike any she had ever experienced. Her stomach dropped and her hair tingled with electricity, rising upward; although she could no longer be certain which way was up. Wind whipped at her face and arms from every direction. Somewhere in the distance the monotonous drone of chanting, strangely tremulous.
An instant later the floor came back to her feet. She struggled to keep the contents of her stomach in place. The black smoke dissipated, slithering in between the stones that made up the floors, walls and ceiling of the massive chamber they now occupied. More of the room came into focus as her vision gradually returned.
The only light came from two torches that flanked a stone altar. The flickering flames threw hypnotic shadows across the room and up the walls. The book sat atop the altar. Its desire to reunite with the Eye of Jupiter was tangible, though neither artifact spoke to her. The eight clear gems that encircled the recess where the Eye was supposed to sit, pulsed in time to the relentless chanting; the source of which became apparent when a hooded figure stepped from behind the altar.
“Prepare the vessels.” Martin’s voice came like metal on stone to her ears.
Although her gaze was still locked on Martin, she could see Verner and Flins moving around the periphery of her vision. One by one, they opened the sarcophagi arrayed at equidistant points around the altar, two to her left, two to her right, two behind the altar, and presumably one behind her.
It was the sarcophagus to her right that gave her pause. There inside, eyes shut, was the little boy from the Horsemen’s estate. The stone coffins must have been set at an angle, because the boy appeared to be sleeping; yet his body was upright.
Martin pulled her attention back to himself. “Don’t worry, child. Once the process is complete, the boy will be immortal like the rest of us. Of course I’ll have to take him under my wing and mold him in my image.”
Just the thought of anyone being molded by Martin made her sick, let alone an innocent child. She struggled to speak. “Damn you to hell you sick bastard.”
The laugh that followed surprised her. “Defiant to the end. You should know better than anyone that hell exists only in the mind.” He reached out and stroked her cheek with a spindly finger. “You shouldn’t resist us, child. The process will benefit you as well. Although, just like the boy, I’ll have to exert a certain measure of control over you. And who knows? If you’re a good girl, I might even make you my queen.” He laughed again at her obvious discomfort, stroking her cheek. “We can rule the world together, side by side.”
“Never.”
He shrugged. “Have it your way, pretty one. Queen or slave, I haven’t an objection to either.”
“Fuck you, Martin.” Her father’s voice broke through from somewhere behind her
.
Martin shook his head. “Tsk. Tsk. What kind of language is that for the father of the bride? Play your cards right, Frederick, and there’ll be a place for you in my new world order.”
Frederick started to speak, but it turned into an unintelligible garble with a menacing glance from Martin. Ana struggled again, but was unable to move against him.
Verner came to Martin’s side. “It is done, Martin. We are ready.”
Martin waved him away. “Take your place. I’ll secure the sixth.”
Again her body moved without her will, gliding backwards away from Martin. His eyes still pierced through her own, locked, controlling. The cold stone of the sarcophagus stopped her, enveloping her body in its icy embrace. The menacing old man kept moving his lips as he walked behind the altar and took his place in the circle. His strangely accented words played only in her mind, and although she didn’t understand them, their purpose was evident, to bind her to his will.
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