“Now that I see the hall I would say it means three doors down on the left.”
Dinah felt stupid. She’d graduated top of her class from Barrington Academy and summa cum laude from Dartmouth. The events of the past couple of days had obviously flustered her.
Jake slid the card into the slot next to the plain white door and turned the handle. They eased open the door to Caedon’s ultimate sanctuary, the hidden rooms of the founders in the Red Dawn Temple. The focal point of the temple was these rooms, located deep underground, where the founders toiled away to find an answer to an ancient curse.
The first room was dominated by a huge board room table. Shelves lined the wall cluttered with hundreds of artifacts and reliquaries from the Middle Ages. Two sets of double doors dominated two sides of the room. Across from them was another single door. Jake wandered through the room touching the dusty artifacts, while Dinah studied the notes on the table.
Jake opened the left set of doors into the legendary library of Willis. It towered three stories above them, each level connected by a narrow winding staircase and ladders on runners. Spread out on the center tables was a pile of research. Handmade and illuminated scrolls were carefully stacked with several translation dictionaries, and stacks of legal pads with Caedon’s precise handwriting were scattered throughout the room. A carved sandalwood reliquary lay in the center of the table.
Dinah gasped as she craned her neck to look at the highest level of the library. Jake made a beeline for the research table and studied Caedon’s notes. “This is amazing. Apparently he found out quite a bit about Gleebelix and left me notes to pick up where he left off.”
Dinah moved over and studied the notes. “It looks like the reliquary holds the remains of a martyr, a Brother John Joseph. Apparently, in 1138 he destroyed Gleebelix with a blessed spear. During the battle he perished, and his bones were enshrined in this reliquary. The spear went to the Vatican for safekeeping. It is the only known artifact that will kill it. He had a cross, which he raised to the heavens after the demon struck a serious blow. The legend says an angel came down and wept on the spear for the waste of it all, and the tears combined with the martyr’s blood transformed the processional cross into a spear. The head of the spear was shaped like a cross, and it pierced the demon and sent it back to the Abyss.”
Jake pursed his lips. “Maybe Father Conrad can help?”
Dinah straightened up. “I don’t think so. I’m not sure he can get the spear from the Vatican in time. Besides,” she continued, “I see another big problem. Brother John Joseph was a true believer in a time when these things were real. He was blessed and consecrated, and truly believed that God would destroy Gleebelix. Do you really believe that? I know that I don’t, even with what I have seen recently.”
“Do we know a true believer?” Jake said. “Father Conrad is the closest one that we know of, and I think that he is too injured to fight this thing.”
“That’s two things we need to get. First, we need to retrieve a medieval treasure from the Vatican, and then we need to find a true believer willing to sacrifice himself to fight this. No pressure.” Dinah shivered.
She sighed and paced the room, studying the texts. They were mostly occult tomes about demons, devils, fallen angels, and angels. She fingered a book of fifteenth-century necromantic rites that looked like it was printed at that time. Probably off of one of the first presses, she thought. She trailed her fingers along the books as she let her sight soften. Her eyes slid out of focus, and she could see nimbi surrounding the books and the relics. A flash of silver light on the second story beckoned her.
She made her way up the stairs in a trance and followed the light to one of the shelves. A ladder slid over to her on its own accord, and she climbed it slowly, hand over hand. There in front of her was a book. It glowed bright silver, and her hand reached for it on its own. She slipped the book from the shelf and held it. Her vision snapped into focus and she looked at the title. The writing on the cover was strange, graceful and loopy, but unfamiliar. She eased her way down the ladder and made her way back to the first floor.
She sat at the big table in the center of the room, shifted stacks of notes out of the way, and opened the cover. The book was ancient; the pages were yellow and crackled under her fingers. The graceful script filled the pages with symbols she didn’t recognize. Jake peered over her shoulder. “What kind of writing is this?” she asked.
Jake shook his head. “I don’t know. How did you know it was there?”
“I see things. Mostly I see shadows that I now believe are demons or other things of that ilk. This time I saw this book surrounded by silver light. On election day I saw the same silver light driving shadows away from Phylis.”
“Really?” Jake said. “I hear things. But I haven’t heard the church bells since my last night in Olympia. I wonder why?”
“I don’t know, but I would really like to know what this book says. Do you think that Father Conrad can help us out?”
Jake looked at his watch. “I don’t know, but it is after ten. I don’t think we should leave until the morning.” He picked up some translation dictionaries. “I’ve seen too many horror movies where the vampire hunters leave at dusk. I always thought that dawn would be safer.”
Dinah giggled and reached for some books on ancient languages. “I agree, but since we’re here let’s look at what Caedon discovered.”
She bent over a stack of books and Jake started to cross-reference Caedon’s notes with the books.
It felt good to do research. She’d always loved libraries. They were warm and comfortable. Books were old friends that contained secrets they wished to share.
She learned quite a bit in the Willis library. What interested her most was that although John Joseph was equated with the miracle of destroying the demon lord Gleebelix, he was never canonized. No miracles were performed in his name. Now that the Vatican was couching its belief in demons, it was going to be harder for the martyr to become a saint. How could you believe in one and not the other?
She told Jake of her discovery.
Jake rummaged through a precarious stack of papers. “I’ve found mention of him. The miracle was witnessed by a Cardinal Michael Moretta. He took the spear back to the Vatican. He spent the rest of his career trying to establish proof that Brother John Joseph was a saint. He joined the Carolingian Order and spent the rest of his life fighting the damned. Many times he called upon Brother John Joseph, but he was never able to perform a miracle in his name. The ironic thing is that his battles were so legendary that he was canonized seventy-five years after his death.”
In the study, an old grandfather clocked chimed midnight. Dinah and Jake looked up at the deep, soulful sound and listened to the steady ticking of the ancient clock. The night pressed around them, and everything grew still.
Jake stretched his arms and yawned. “I think we should call it a night.”
Dinah’s lids had grown heavy, and she yawned deeply. “Where should we sleep?”
“Why don’t you take the bed, and I’ll sleep on the couch in the study.”
The bed was unmade, and several piles of dirty clothes from when Caedon was there last were piled up on the chairs. A quick search of the wardrobe revealed a canvas sack full of dirty clothes. They stashed the clothes and the bedsheets into the sack. Clean linens rested on a shelf in the wardrobe, and they quickly made the bed.
Dinah excused herself and went to the bathroom where she changed into a robe and some PJs she’d found in the wardrobe. She rinsed out her underwear in the sink and draped it over the bathtub to dry. She slid between the sheets while out in the study, on the other side of the door, Jake settled down for the night.
A sky opened above her, black and deep. A chaotic cry reverberated through her. She opened her eyes and found herself somewhere she had never been before. The landscape was barren, made up of crags at chaotic angles. The wind rushed through deep canyons with razor sharp rocks. Creatures crawled along t
he canyons, howling with pain as the rocks lacerated them. Their wails of agony added to the overwhelming cry of the wind. Excruciating pain lanced through Dinah. She jumped back, and when she landed, fresh pain overtook her and for a moment she saw white. Forcing herself to stand still, she looked down and saw rocks poking through her feet.
She threw back her head and howled with pain and tried to move. Rocks drove their edges into the soft soles of her feet with every step. The ground ran red with blood. Something moved behind her. She looked over her shoulder and saw the creatures of this place scrambling out of the way.
Her ears rang with a new sound. It filled the air with hated chaos. Her mind shattered at that sound. She fled, the howls of the place echoing in her ears. She tripped and fell, rocks thrusting through her hands. She lifted her hands and blood ran down her arms, soaking her pajamas. Rocks pierced her knees, forcing themselves into her flesh, but she scrambled to her feet despite the pain. Creatures that didn’t look human fled with her. Their red eyes glared at her. For a brief instance, an old joke flashed through her beleaguered mind. You don’t have to run faster than the bear, you just have to run faster than everyone else.
She could not stand to see what was behind her. It was catching up to her, and it sounded massive, and it filled the sky with its fury. She descended deeper into oblivion, blocking the sounds that assailed her senses. Her eyes were riveted on the hill in front of her.
Something loomed up ahead. Shelter, her mind screamed at her. She put on an extra burst of speed, no longer feeling the rocks mutilating her feet. A door made of golden light blazed on a black rock structure, and Dinah sprinted toward it. A tall woman with blond hair held it open for her, beckoning her. Just when she was about to reach the door, a tentacle snaked around her ankle.
The thing dragged her back toward it on her stomach. Her nails ripped out from their beds as she scrabbled with her fingertips, fighting the overwhelming strength of the tentacle. Rocks shredded her pajamas and pierced the soft flesh of her belly. Her intestines caught on rocks and were pulled from her. Terrified, she looked over her shoulder. It towered in the gray sky. Tentacles writhed from its abdomen. A maw gaped from the center of the mass of writhing appendages.
Dinah screamed and passed out.
Chapter 6
Jake jolted out of his sleep. Dinah screamed again. He rushed into her room. She thrashed about in the covers as her arms began to show marks that looked like acid burns. Her flesh bubbled before his eyes, and he scooped her out of bed and rushed to the bathroom.
He turned on the faucet and felt the temperature of the water, then tossed her underwear onto the counter and slipped her into the water. He propped her head up on the side of the tub with a neck pillow and charged out of the bathroom.
He ransacked the shelves in the study until he found the tell-tale silver flasks with crosses on them: holy water. He grabbed three flasks and ran back into the bathroom. The water covered her legs, and blood soaked through the fabric of her pajamas, forming a red cloud in the water. He upended the three flasks of holy water, and she screamed a high-pitched, piercing wail. Her eyes flew open.
She scrambled to get out of the tub, her feet slipping on the slick surface. The neck pillow was knocked askew as she thrashed about, screaming. He cradled her as she struggled in the water.
“Dinah!” he yelled. “It’s me, Jake.”
Her eyes rolled back in their sockets. She rocked her head back and forth as if trying to lock on a sound. He grabbed her face in his hands and turned her face toward him. “It’s Jake; you’re safe,” he said again, this time more gently.
She fell back into the tub. The rims of her eyes were white around dilated pupils. “Where… am I…?” she gasped.
“In the Red Dawn Temple,” he said, dribbling water over her arms. She hissed when the water touched her burns. “You were dreaming.”
She held up her arms. Deep acid burns peeled away her flesh. “I… got this… from a dream?”
“Yes.” He cradled her head against his chest. “Stay in the tub, it has holy water in it. Don’t think about the dream.”
“But it hurts,” she whimpered into his chest.
“I know holy water hurts in wounds like this. Don’t look at them. I’m not sure you should see them.”
Dinah closed her eyes. She snuggled deeper into his chest. Even though the water was warm, she was so cold; he felt her shiver. “We need to get your pajamas off,” he said.
She helped him gently slide the shirt and the pants off. He tried not to look at her body. Her breasts were small and pert, just a handful. He felt things stirring low in his body. He closed his eyes with a tremendous force of will. Not now, he thought. She needs you to be distant and to take care of her wounds. He took the pajamas out and went to look for a first aid kit.
He spread the wet clothing out to dry, draping them over the shower rod, and rummaged through the cupboards, looking for a first aid kit. He found several deep fluffy towels and laid them on the floor next to the tub. A small first aid kit was tucked under the sink, and he took it to the bedroom to study the contents.
Dinah squirmed in pain while soaking in the tub, obviously suffering as the holy water reacted to the unholy wounds. Jake returned to the bathroom to see if she was all right. The wounds had stopped bubbling but looked so angry and red. She stared at her hands and knees.
“I tripped in my dream, and I was bleeding from my hands and feet. Why do I have the burns from the tentacles, but not from the cuts?” she said, turning her hands as she stared at them.
Jake shrugged. “My guess is that even though you were on its plane, the cuts were more mundane and didn't transfer from the dream. However, Gleebelix invaded your dreams and his attacks would be real because his mind overpowered yours.”
“I know this seems strange, but could you please leave while I get out of the tub?”
Jake grinned and left the room. Not that he blamed her. It was one thing to be stripped when you are screaming in pain from a dream that attacked you. It was quite another thing to be naked in front of a man you didn't know very well when you returned to your senses.
Dinah came out wrapped in thick white towels, with her hair caught up in a turban wrap on top of her head. The burns on her arms were an angry red. Jake beckoned her over and smeared on an ointment, placed sterile 4x4s along the worst of the burns and wrapped them in gauze.
“We should get you to the hospital,” he said after he taped down the final wrap.
Dinah nodded. “In a minute. We should look at the star charts again.”
It made sense to double check the dates. They studied the star charts. “If I’m reading this correctly,” Jake said, “the ritual will be completed in three days, and Gleebelix will be summoned. We still don’t know where the ritual will take place.”
“What about Grove Stand Park?” Dinah asked. “It seems like there’s a lot of activity there.”
“Possibly, but right now you need to go to the hospital. Then we can figure out what’s happening.”
Dinah gingerly got dressed. She winced as the light blouse rubbed against the fresh wounds. Jake locked the door behind them, and they headed to the elevator, where Jake slid his card into the call button.
They rode in silence. Dinah’s breath hissed through her teeth. When the elevator doors slid open, they stared at the broken mirrors that lined the hall. Jake motioned for Dinah to be quiet and crept down the blood-splattered hall.
The temple was in shambles. Smashed furniture was piled against the wall. The door to the sanctuary hung on one hinge.
Jake crept across the hall and peered through the door. Scattered about the room, several bodies in red robes lay around the circle. One of them, Dr. Valencio, had blood running from a head wound and covering one eye. Jake dashed across the temple to check his pulse. It was slow but steady, and Jake heaved a sigh of relief. Jake and Dinah checked the temple members' vital signs. The only survivor was Dr. Valencio, and Jake crossed himself as
he covered the fallen members.
Suddenly, the smell of exotic perfume caught his attention. He turned to face a stunning woman, the one he’d seen in the relaxation room the day before, leaning against the door frame. Her delicate Pacific Islander features and her waist-length straight black hair framed exotic almond eyes. She wore a sequined red evening gown that highlighted her ethereal beauty, and Jake sank to the floor. Hormones raced through his body, and a massive erection tented his trousers. He had to have her; he crawled across the floor toward her.
Jake’s heart cried out, she was talking to someone else, she wasn’t talking to him, didn’t she know he loved her. She moved into the room, and he followed her on all fours like a puppy wanting to please her. Suddenly, she held someone up against a wall by their throat. I have to know who that is, Jake thought.
The woman screamed, and she tumbled to the floor, rolling; it felt like he was burning. As his mind cleared, Jake saw her perfect face, twisted in rage, vanish in a puff of the same exotic perfume as Dinah fell to the floor, a wooden cross clutched in her hand.
Dinah struggled to her feet and rushed to Jake.
“What happened?” he asked, dazed.
“Apparently I ran into one of the benefits of membership. She tried to get information from you. I don’t think she’s responsible for this, though.”
“What do you mean?”
As she sat up straighter, Dinah gestured at the blood and the destruction. “She said, ‘This is messy and doesn’t further my cause.’”
“Do you think she works with the cult? For Gleebelix?”
Dinah shook her head. “No, I’m not sure what she is, but right now we have bigger things to worry about.”
Jake pulled himself up. His erection had subsided but still throbbed. He sighed, and surreptitiously tried to adjust himself. Dinah arched an eyebrow and gave him a watery grin.
“We need to get out of here,” he said.
They crept down the hall, listening carefully for any noise that was out of place. In a lab, they stumbled upon a dead man, his entrails spilled out, with his hands pressed against his abdomen as if trying to keep them in. He was staring at the ceiling with glassy, unseeing eyes. They gently covered him with a tablecloth from one of the smashed tables in the hall.
Whispers in the Woods (Firemountain Chronicles Book 1) Page 12