by A and E Kirk
We raced through the creepy forest, littered with patches of cleanly picked bones. A couple of times I thought I saw one of the trees reach for us, or some grotesquely shaped shadow lurking in the mist, ready to pounce, but Pearl would rip out some snarling, squeaky noise and all movement stilled.
The forest thinned, but the mist thickened so I could barely see a few feet in front of me. Next to us ran a violent river of swirling red and black water, body parts and bones bouncing over the rapids. I choked on the stench of decay. From above the relentless pounding of my heart came a loud, crashing sound.
“Pearl!” I yelled. “How much farther?”
“Hurry!” she shouted back.
So I followed close, staying ahead of Cristiano. I was terrified Pearl would delve too far into the fog and disappear, but her red glimmer danced only a few feet ahead of my nose, and I kept my gaze locked on her like a missile on target, never wavering.
Which meant I was the first one to go over the edge of the cliff.
CHAPTER 97
My body flailed in open air, then twisted around. Above me, I saw Cristiano skid to a stop at the rocky edge. He saw me falling and without hesitation, leapt head first. A moment later, his arms wrapped around me, and we both fell in a gut-wrenching freefall. The mist around us shook with Pearl’s laughter.
We slammed into the side of the cliff. More like splattered because we landed on a steep, muddy trail. That confused me, because I thought we’d drop through a portal. Instead, we speared at an increasing rate of speed down the side of a Waiting World mountain. Cristiano’s grip kept me enclosed in his arms, my face pressed against his chest as my bones jiggled to the marrow.
We bounced and spun like a human toboggan, knocking this way and that as we accelerated down the path which curled in a spiral, the diameter getting smaller and smaller, reminding me of water getting flushed down a toilet bowl. Just hoped we didn’t end up in a Waiting World sewer. The bottom had dropped out of my stomach long ago and at this speed, there was nothing to do but wait for the end.
If it ever came.
With one final wet thwump, we hit flat land and skipped like a stone on water before slushing to a stop, rolling like pigs in a foot deep pool of mud.
Cristiano stood, the brown muck sliding off his skin in thick, wet plops. He had to help me up because the skirt on my gown was soaked through and weighed a ton. Mud slurped inside my corset, cold and grainy against my skin. My hair hung in wavy strips, too heavy to even hold a curl.
Squealing laughter assaulted my ear. “You look like a horrible, smelly, ugly swamp creature.” Pearl buzzed a delighted circle around my head.
I swatted at her. “If this was just some sort of joke—”
She fluttered an inch from my face. “You’re the joke. Not smart enough to see how stupid you are!”
“Ladies,” Cristiano said. “Is this conversation conducive to helping the Hex Boys?”
We were at the bottom of a cone-shaped gorge, standing at the tip and surrounded by rock spreading above us a thousand feet high. There was no going back. Which was fine, because here at the base, one section of the rock swirled in a glittering spiral.
I blinked away the mud in my eyes. “A portal.”
“The Paris portal,” Pearl corrected, folding her arms and puffing out her tiny chest with smug satisfaction.
Despite the weight of my skirt, I suddenly felt lighter. We had a chance.
“Thanks, Pearl.” I gathered up my dripping wet skirt and trudged through the sludge, Armani following with much more grace as he flicked mud off his body.
“I did it for him, not you,” Pearl said. “Tell him I helped. And one more thing. Watch out for the guards.” She spun up and out of sight, but not before screeching, “I hate you!” one last time.
I looked at Cristiano. “Is she talking about Mandatum guards on the other side or something else?”
He started to answer, but a few yards away, the mud bubbled in violent spurts.
“I am thinking that perhaps Pearl meant something else.” He grabbed my hand and dragged us toward the portal. “And remember, once we get through, do not stop moving until we are well clear of the security portcullises.”
“Right!” I said, then had a thought. “What’s a portcul—”
With a mighty sucking slurp, a giant reptilian demon burst from the muck behind us. It roared, opening a long pointy mouth with long pointy teeth. Some sort of webbed fan-like things flapped wildly where its ears should be. It shook the brown slime off its shiny scales and bounded toward us.
The portal thinned as we neared, but…
“It is not yet fully open,” Cristiano yelled. “Do we still jump?”
I wasn’t sure if the semi-permeable portal would just bounce us back or cut off various body parts, but I didn’t break my speed and jumped anyway.
CHAPTER 98
I felt resistance, like hitting the mesh of a screen door, then the portal spread away from our bodies and opened completely. I tumbled out onto something cold, hard, and so rough it grated my palms. Beside me, Cristiano spun-out, then rolled up smoothly into a crouch, his hand outstretched for me to grab.
But I didn’t. I froze, lying on my back, eyes bulging in panic as they tracked over the room we had just plunged into. This wasn’t what I expected. It wasn’t the sleek, modern conference room in the high-rise office building I’d entered before.
This was a dungeon. A real live medieval dungeon.
Cristiano was shouting something, but I couldn’t hear him over the roar of the open portal, a grinding sound that made the floor shake. Besides, shock still had me stunned.
Where were we? What happened? Had Pearl double-crossed us?
Out of the stone ceiling above, something dropped. Something big and pointy, and ready to stab me a million times over.
Cristiano jumped on top of me, wrapped his arms around my body, and spun us across the floor as a drawbridge made of latticed metal plummeted down with frightening speed. The sharp ends on the bottom slammed into the dungeon’s stone floor with a thunderous crash!
We were clear, but Cristiano kept spinning us faster because—
Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam! In rapid succession a total of six latticed-metal gates shot down from different angles, locking into place like a puzzle and creating an imposing, multi-layered security barrier.
Incensed snarls erupted as the two reptilian demons burst through the portal and didn’t slow. Flinging splatters of mud, they dropped their heads and rammed the first gate. It bent inward far enough to nudge the second gate, but otherwise held firm, effectively caging the hellions.
We stopped spinning. Cristiano remained on top of me as we watched the beasts’ futile attempts to burst through the security gates. Behind them, the portal closed like a wound healing in fast motion.
Then Cristiano looked down at me, his face incredibly close. He breathed in heavy pants and clenched his jaw, which made his scars stand out pale against his dark skin. “Why did you not keep going?!” he yelled. “You could have been killed!”
“Because I didn’t know!” I shot back. “This isn’t the Paris portal!”
“Of course it is!”
It was? Jeez, I was so confused. “Well, those gates—oh, those are portcullises? You and your ridiculous vocabulary. Well, the stupid portcullises weren’t here before!”
“Of course they were here! They have always been here!”
“No! I mean I wasn’t here before!” I tried to take a calming breath, but his big, muscled frame was extremely heavy. Good thing we were back in our regular clothes, because under this kind of pressure, my boobs would’ve popped right out of that corset. Talk about exposed.
I tried to push him off.
“No!” Cristiano said. His pale green eyes sparked with livid fury. “I will not move until you explain. No more lies or omissions. I cannot protect you or find the Hex Boys in time unless I understand everything. So speak the truth and make it quick because guards
have been alerted to the portal intrusion and are already on their way.”
He didn’t get off of me, and there was no way I was strong enough to make him, but he did shift his elbows onto the floor and lifted some of his weight. Not much, but at least I could breathe.
“I wasn’t lying, I just didn’t know,” I said, trying not to sound panicked. “When I landed in the headquarters before, I was in a conference room upstairs, not this…dungeon. You’re sure this is the Paris portal?” I glanced around at the walls made of large, chiseled blocks of weathered stone.
“I am sure,” he said with an uncomfortable edge to his voice. “Just as I am also sure that you did not ‘land upstairs,’ because the building above us is not the Paris headquarters.”
CHAPTER 99
I had to run to keep up behind Cristiano as he led us down a tunnel which reminded me of those which Flint had built under Gossamer Falls. But instead of old-fashioned electric lamps, these halls were lit with modern security lights placed in the ceilings. They currently flashed red.
Cristiano glanced at the lights, took my hand, and quickened his pace. “So when my associate, Rafael, found you in that conference room in the headquarters, you had arrived there through a portal even though no portal has ever existed there before nor since. Would you care to explain how you accomplished that unprecedented task?”
“In truth, I really don’t know. It’s just where I landed after I jumped off the cliff in the Waiting World.”
“And you assumed that was the Paris portal. Interesting. Rafael said nothing of a portal.”
“It was in the ceiling, and he was so focused on me I don’t think he noticed. Then the ghoulie grabbed him and tried to pull him up through it, but I grabbed your guy and managed to close the portal.”
Cristiano paused to check around a corner. “That is what happened to his coat? A ghoulie? He was extremely distraught. It was his favorite.” Armani shook his head in disbelief, then we were running again as he said over his shoulder, “Thank you for saving him, if not his coat.”
“Speaking of saving.” I ignored the painful stitch in my side and moved faster. “You said you’re sure we can still get to the Hex Boys in time, but we were in the Waiting World for almost an hour which means we have just over an hour left, and we’re not even in the headquarters. How far—”
“Shh.” He put a finger to his lips as we came to a door. He was about to place his hand on a glass panel in the wall, when he suddenly kept moving past it and pulled me around a corner and whispered, “The guards.”
The door opened. Men and women shouting in French ran off in the direction from which we’d just come. Cristiano took my hand and slipped us through the door before it closed. We stepped rapidly up a narrow spiral staircase made of pale, honey-colored stone.
“Really?” I said, panting. “Don’t you guys believe in elevators?”
“Not here.” Cristiano led us through another door and down a hall, no longer running.
“How far away from here is the headquarters?” Grateful for the level surface and slower pace, which gave me a chance to catch my breath, I ran my fingers over dark wood paneling on the walls. Soft music muted through. “And where exactly is ‘here’?”
“See for yourself.” Cristiano gestured me through a small arched wooden door.
Two steps in, I came to a screeching to halt. “Holy God.”
CHAPTER 100
I gawked, mouth hanging open, head swiveling, because the portal and the dungeon we’d landed in wasn’t underneath a medieval castle. It was underneath a huge, absolutely, gorgeously, and astonishingly amazing medieval church. My mind was blown.
The elaborate and stunning Gothic architecture along with the sheer mammoth size of the place, took my breath away. Polished wood, tons of stone, massive pillars, an ornate domed ceiling four stories high. Curves and arches everywhere, intricately carved statues, incredible stained glass windows, tall ones, round ones, all expertly detailed and bursting with rich color. The acres of space glowed as if bathed in candlelight. The altar rose in so many levels of elaborate spires that it looked like a fairy tale castle.
“Wow.” I turned slowly, trying to take it all in. I wasn’t alone.
The place was packed. Some people were praying in pews, but most wandered up and down the aisles speaking in hushed tones and taking pictures.
“This is…” I swallowed and cleared my throat. When I could finally speak, my voice resonated with awe. “We are actually standing in Notre Dame Cathedral.”
I’d been thorough in my research for the Lahey European family vacation my parents had allowed me to plan. The one we were going to take before I’d been left half dead in an alley and my life had so drastically changed. But I knew the famous landmarks. I’d seen pictures.
Pictures had nothing on the real thing. Standing here and now, amid the aura and atmosphere, the history and beauty, it was astounding. I had chills.
“Wow,” I said again.
Cristiano spoke in perfectly accented French. “Oui, mademoiselle. Cathédrale Notre-Dame de Paris.”
His head swiveled too, but he was searching for danger, not taking in the magnificent sight. Why would he? He’d probably been here dozens of times. Maybe even prayed over Fiamma’s lost soul.
His eyes darted around. “We shall share the sights together one day soon, but now we must go before—” He focused on the front exit. His expression turned grim. “Too late.”
A subdued commotion brewed as men and women with name tags and wearing official-looking black suits and white shirts began speaking quietly to tourists and ushering them toward the exits in a discreet but determined and orderly fashion. Several of the suit-coated men and women had eyes that glowed in varying shades of purple.
“What’s happening?” I said.
“The Mandatum has instituted the evacuation protocol. All exits are watched.” He positioned us behind a pillar.
“Can’t we just sneak out with the crowd?”
“I know too many of them. It could cause a delay we can ill afford.”
Cristiano casually bumped into a man who had a blue baseball cap tucked under his arm. Catching the guy's elbow, Cristiano uttered a polite, “Pardonnez-moi monsieur,” before guiding the fellow on his way. The tourist never looked back, so he didn’t notice that Cristiano was now wearing his hat.
“Smooth,” I said. “But how do we get out of here?”
A man in a black suit grabbed Cristiano’s arm. “Agent Cacciatori?” He smiled. “What luck! We could use your help.”
Cristiano shoved me down into a pew and turned his back to me, blocking the man’s view. “My friend,” he sighed, “I am terribly sorry for this.”
The man’s brow creased. “Sorry for wh—”
Cristiano punched him square in the face.
The man crashed backwards into the crowd, unconscious, sending people in the immediate vicinity falling or trying to scatter, their screams of alarm echoing in the cathedral’s amazing acoustics.
Cristiano grabbed me and shouldered us through the panicked crowd. In moments we were through a door and flying up another spiral staircase where every now and then an opening in the wall provided a glimpse of Paris. When we reached the end, Cristiano didn’t even try the door’s handle, he simply kicked the barrier down and kept moving.
The night air washed cold over my face as I followed him, my eyes taking in the full expanse of Paris lights glittering below. So very, very far below. We ran around the outside of the south bell tower, passing fierce-looking, horned gargoyles sitting silent watch. Shouts broke into the night as the guards that were in pursuit reached the top too.
As we rounded the back end of the tower with nowhere left to run, I knew we were screwed unless…
“Jump!” I yelled. “We need to jump!”
But my words were drowned out by the giant bell chiming to life in a shattering crescendo, letting me know we now had only an hour before the Hex Boys fatal “awards” ceremony.
Nothing like added pressure. Tick-tock, tick-tock. I covered my ears.
Seemingly unaware of the clamoring racket, Cristiano dug his fingers into the stone at his feet and yanked, pulling up a large square piece attached by a hinge. Below the hidden trap door, a ladder disappeared into dark oblivion, and without a word, Cristiano grabbed me and dropped us both inside.
As we fell, the trap door thudded closed, blocking what little light had filtered through. We landed, and Cristiano clicked on a flashlight. We bolted down a long, straight corridor, the sound of the bell had died down enough that I could hear the church music coming from below. Suddenly, we were outside again, on the roof at the far east end of the church, standing on the edge above a series of flying buttresses and a small park below.
Cristiano tossed the flashlight, picked me up, and then we jumped.
The landing was easy, it was the continued sprinting across lawn and pathways that had me exhausted. At a busy street, he pulled up short.
“How close are we to the headquarters?” I leaned over, wheezing. “We’re running out of time.”
He scanned the road. “When our ride reaches us—”
“We have a ride?” Thank goodness. “When did you arrange that? But how far—”
“There is no time!” he barked. “Just do as I say! Once we have our transportation, just hold on to me and do not let go for any reason, understood?”
I glared at his sharp hostile tone and grumbled, “Sure thing, boss. Like I have a choice.”
Suddenly, I was nearly pulled off my feet as Cristiano grasped my shoulders and shook them hard, his face an inch from mine.
“Yes, Fiamma! You have a choice!” His eyes glinted metallic in the moonlight, fury blasting through every word. “Choose to trust me!”
Whoa! I cringed as far away as I could. Which wasn’t far.
“Okay, calm down. I trust you. I do." If he went off the deep end now, all would be lost. “But you also need to trust me. I'm not some distressed damsel, and this isn’t the time for one of your episodes. Let’s just get our ride and get to the Hex Boys.”