Ashes of Eden

by Mandi Konesni

  "You are sick, child. Two souls battle within you, one dark, one light. You cannot coexist between the two. This is why you are sick. Heaven wasn't meant for you, you must renounce the light to be whole. Your spirit guides, you hear them screaming, yes? They are in pain, child. As are you."

  At first, Raziel thought Jarli was talking to him and had been ready to violently protest giving up the 'good' soul he still possessed.

  He was clinging to it tooth and nail, darkness be damned. Only when the man mentioned spirit guides did he remember Baylin chatting to thin air in St. Augustine. That this had started when she'd grasped the Rod of Aaron. Clarity hit. The Rod had interacted badly with her demonic half somehow, and unless she found a way to purge herself of its influence, she would continue to get sicker. She could eventually die.

  "Can you save her? If you can, the relic is yours. I will find a way to ensure it won't be taken out of your hands, and we will research another relic to take its place or something. You take care of my female and I take care of you."

  Baylin shook her head, opening her mouth to protest, but he lifted a hand to stop her before she even got started on a tirade. There was no discussion necessary for this. She'd gotten hurt saving his ass. He wasn't going to leave her sick from the after-effects of handling a relic when he'd been too weak to take it himself.

  If this man could heal her, then he would keep his end of the bargain. Gabriel had said there were many relics on Earth. Surely there was another comparable one that could replace it. He was so far off the beaten path, he wasn't likely to be an ongoing problem.

  At Jarli's nod, Raziel was escorted out of the room and back onto the porch. Pacing the length of it, he silently prayed. He didn't know if anyone above was listening to him anymore, but it couldn't hurt. He had no idea how this sassy woman had come to mean so much to him in such a short time, but she had.

  The idea of losing her before he had to was more than he could bear at the moment. He wanted to squeeze every moment, every second he had with her to the last drop. He wanted to create memories that would last, as he'd need them to keep him company for eons once she was gone.

  In a short time which seemed like forever to Raziel, Baylin and Jarli stepped through the door. Baylin held up her hand, which now sported a reddish scar where the rod had burned her. The dark circles were gone under her eyes, she looked more like herself.

  Relief flooded his system, almost dropping him to his knees. She would be okay. It was all that mattered at the moment. Giving a nod of thanks to Jarli, he took Baylin's hand, turning to take their leave.

  "I dreamed of you, Angel. You are fighting your own battles as well. One will rise to eclipse the other, and all will be lost. Take heed which side you feed, be sure the choice your heart desires. The relic is yours, friend. I have no need of it, I was simply the deliverer."

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  The colorful leather wrapping lay spread across the bed, Raziel eyeing it with distrust. After the cryptic message, Jarli had pressed this bundle into his hand and disappeared back into the house. Raziel hadn't dared to open it until the driver had deposited them back at the resort. While Baylin had begun packing their meager belongings, he'd untied the leather thongs and opened it, but was waiting for Baylin before he moved the folded fabric to see what was inside.

  Once she'd settled in next to him, he reached for the edge of the leather, carefully lifting it. The bottom had been made into a pocket of sorts, with sinew thread stitched through it. Careful not to touch anything with his bare skin, Raziel bent the pocket flap forward to reveal a twisted and rusty iron spike. About four and a half inches long if it was straightened, it had a flat head, with the tip dulled and blunted.

  He knew many used to consider crucifixion nails as powerful amulets with medicinal value, but he'd never actually seen one utilized in such a fashion. Worse? If this was an angelic relic that Gabriel wanted retrieved, it had power. A lot of it. It wasn't simply peasant superstition. It could only mean one thing, and the knowledge turned his stomach.

  This was one of 'the' crucifixion spikes. The ones used to send his brother from this Earthly world. Jesus of Nazareth had given his life for their sins, they had responded by taking relics from his body before his Resurrection. It was despicable and made him sick to wonder how many more of these were actually out there.

  Another worry for another time, however. For now, he wrapped it back up, securing the ties as tightly as he dared while explaining to a disgusted Baylin what it was. Making sure neither would accidentally touch it through the leather, he tucked the entire satchel into his pocket.

  Once they were ready to leave, he left Baylin to her own devices as she communed with her spirit guides or whoever she spoke to in her head. Having Jarli confirm that she wasn't crazy or speaking to demons helped him simply shrug it off as a random quirk and let her get on with it. Apparently they were adept at finding hotspots of odd relic activity, so it worked in his favor.

  After a good fifteen minutes, she slumped forward, blinking dazedly for a few moments before seeming to come back to herself. As he reached to help her stand, he checked her over, concerned the healing hadn't fully 'took' and she'd have side effects. Instead, she gave him a tight smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

  "Prepare for conspiracy theories galore. I only caught glimpses, but based on those and a few blockbuster movies I won't admit to seeing that had some scenes filmed there, I believe we might be sneaking into Rosslyn Chapel. I recognized the stench of crazy even in the spirit realm."

  His brow rose. Rosslyn Chapel? He knew of it, but not much. It had been a Roman Catholic church in Roslin Scotland when it was founded. It now identified as a Scottish Episcopal Church.

  He'd heard of some of the conspiracy theories, yes, but he hadn't given much credence to them. What could they be sensing at the Chapel? Could it be the same thing that had drawn so many over the years seeking answers? He supposed anything was possible, as outlandish as it was.

  "They say the Holy Grail was put there by the few Templars that managed to escape persecution and sailed from France to Scotland. Do you think it could be...?"

  Raziel shook his head. "Where were they for 166 years between 1314 when the last was supposedly burned at the stake and 1480, when Rosslyn Chapel was completed? In 1314, it was nearly impossible to sail from France to Scotland in October, the seas were too treacherous. They would have never made it safely that late in the year. I have no doubt some escaped death at the hands of Phillip, but I'm just not convinced they made it to Scotland, darling. Your movies are just that. Movies."

  He couldn't discount angelic interference, however. It was a complication he didn't want to add to the mix. If Baylin was interested in these outlandish theories, he didn't want her getting her hopes up.

  The Grail had been lost to the ages, no one knew its location. It was likely safer that way, regardless. Any relic at Rosslyn was likely something smaller, something inconspicuous that the treasure hunters would have overlooked time and time again.

  "We are not hunting for the Grail, Baylin. Get that thought out of your head before we even get there. We have a job to do, and chasing conspiracy theories isn't part of it. Understood?" The glint in her eye told him he'd just issued a challenge. He'd deal with it once they'd found the artifact and he had to drag her away. For now, they had a chapel to breach.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Scotland had an energy all its own. Everything was green, bursting with life. Architecture had been kept as historical as possible, so everywhere you looked there were castles, fortifications, Gothic churches, brick roadways. It truly looked like a city from a different era.

  Crumbling stone gates lead past Rosslyn Glen Castle, past the Lady Chapel and the Rosslyn Cemetary towards Rosslyn Chapel. While the building itself was smaller than you'd expect for having such a huge reputation, it was no less regal and impressive.

  He could see why it held an air of mystique, why it drew people to wonder about its orig
ins. Following a small group of tourists inside, he marveled at the carvings on the walls, the large pillars and arches filled with artistic flourishes that demanded attention and speculation. It would take several lifetimes to catalogue every carving here. Even more to attempt to explain or classify them. He could understand the appeal.

  As they walked towards the altar, he glanced at the pamphlet they'd been given. It had some historical information, notes about times for services, things of that nature. On the back, however, was where his interest was drawn. There was a little map of the chapel itself, showing the names of each pillar, things of that nature.

  Behind the altar and to the right was the apprentice pillar. Somewhere behind it, normally there should be a door that led to the Sacristy. In most churches, the Sacristy was a room behind the altar where vestments and sacred vessels were kept for services. Due to it being such a private room, there was generally only one way in and out; through the door inside the church.

  On this map? It looked like someone had drawn another door at the back of the room, where a small window was usually located for natural light. The lines were faint, as if they'd been erased from the drawing once it'd been finished, but the printing equipment had still caught the faint echo of them, a ghost of their presence.

  Why draw a door where one didn't exist? Unless it did, and no one had told the artist not to include it on the map. Highly suspicious, it made Raziel want to investigate further.

  Motioning to the map, he pointed out the room to Baylin. Without hesitation, she drew him back behind the group, pulling them off to the side where they wouldn't be visible by anyone glancing over. Checking for security cameras, she closed her eyes after glancing at the map again, and seconds later they stood in the center of the Sacristy. Raziel thought he was even getting used to apparating. He barely stumbled this time.

  Along the far wall, instead of the window he expected, there was a heavy brocade curtain. Approaching it, he tugged it aside, still half expecting to see a window behind it. Instead, the door from the drawing was revealed. Letting out a breath, he shrugged.

  There was really nothing for it. They'd come this far, and he hadn't gotten any twinges of relic energy as they'd walked through the chapel above. If something was located in the chapel itself, it would make sense that it'd be underground.

  Either that, or the legends had the location wrong. If that was the case, they'd investigate the other locations next.

  Spotting a lantern tucked away in a cubbyhole near the vestments hung carefully in rows, he snagged it. Clearly it was here for a reason, this must be it. Clicking the switch, he pulled the door open, stepping inside. Once Baylin followed, she closed the door quietly, peeking around his shoulder.

  This was clearly an older part of the church, the stone walls showing more wear than the ones in the more trafficked areas.

  Narrow stone steps led down about twenty feet, and then branched off into a hallway that turned, so he couldn't see what lay beyond. There was no question, whether he could see if anything was waiting for them or not, he was going down there. Since he knew Baylin would follow, she could always apparate them out at the first sign of trouble. This was a chapel, so Gabriel could be summoned as well.

  The fact that the others hadn't been able to retrieve the relic told him it likely wasn't here, but he still needed to check. If he was a betting man, he'd put odds on the cemetery or castle. They were private, still owned by the Sinclair family, but not considered holy ground.

  If he was going to hide an angelic relic after all the attention the conspiracy theorists had brought to this place, he'd move it to private property, where they couldn't get to as easily.

  Following the stone pathway with the lantern lifted to light their way, he ignored the smell of mold and mildew. Places that were built into bedrock like this always had a bit of moisture in the air, causing these natural smells no matter what you did. It didn't mean the place was entirely abandoned, so he wouldn't let it discourage him.

  With Baylin safely behind him, he came to a fork in the rough-hewn tunnel. Glancing between the two, he roughly calculated the geography above in his head. The left would take them back towards the visitor's center and the front of the chapel.

  The right appeared to curve off, likely heading in the direction of the cemetery and castle, off of chapel lands. He didn't hesitate before turning right, hoping his instincts were correct in this. If not, they'd be backtracking.

  As they got further from the chapel, the sounds from above faded, leaving them in a silence that was eerie simply because of the location. The place had an ominous feel to it, as if the very walls refused to divulge their secrets, watching men suffer in vain for the knowledge they held. Even down here, the stone had been meticulously etched and carved, a master craftsman taking his time to ensure every line was perfect.

  Why go through so much trouble for an area where few would see? If these dioramas didn't have any meaning, why spare the expense? Back then, money wasn't exactly something held in great quantities in Scotland. This would have been an expensive endeavor.

  Without a damn good reason, Raziel couldn't see the purpose of it. Being here, walking these paths, he felt what so many before him had experienced. Something was different about Rosslyn Chapel.

  Finally, they reached a door, wooden but with a metal overlay to protect it from the elements somewhat. It was locked, but Baylin triumphantly pulled a hairpin from the mess of curls she'd secured on her head, and got to work on it. Within a few moments, a 'click' sounded, and she had the lock disengaged in her hand. Would she ever cease to surprise him?

  "We'll discuss where you picked up that particular skill later, darling. I'm sure it's a thrilling story, one which is not at all above board legally."

  Behind a locked door lay a circular room of... nothing. Frowning, Raziel glanced around again. There was no reason to have a locked door if there was nothing to guard. Had something been in here and was already removed? Or was that the impression they wanted to give?

  He could feel the pulsing aura of something pulling at him. Much like the other relics had, but this time it was faint, as if the item was still further away, or was being muted somehow.

  As Baylin moved to inspect the walls, he glanced up, eyeing the ceiling. No carvings existed in here, either. It was like this room was meant to appear as boring and plain as possible, which made it all the more suspicious to him. They needed to figure out what was hidden beyond this.

  "I think I could maybe try to apparate outside of the boundaries of this room, possibly. If it doesn't work, I believe I'd just get bounced back to my starting point since there would be nowhere to go. Obviously if there's an entrance here somewhere, it's so well concealed that no one has found it all these years. We don't have that kind of time or patience."

  Once he'd given the green light, he watched as Baylin closed her eyes, attempting to apparate from the room via each wall. She'd begin to shimmer, her appearance wavering, before it solidified again. All four walls down, and no way to apparate beyond them.

  Frustrated, she tried the ceiling as well, but got the same result. Just as he was about to suggest they try to head to the other buildings and find a way in from the other side, her face brightened.

  "Raziel! The legends... they claim there once was a crypt accessible from a descending staircase at the rear of the chapel. What if that staircase was hidden in the Sacristy? If this is part of the crypt, then..."

  She stopped speaking abruptly, and the vision of her began shimmering again. Before he could ask her to finish the thought, she'd disappeared. Mouth open, Raziel turned in a circle, heart racing. She'd found the entrance! But where?

  When she reappeared, her eyes were wide, cheeks flushed.

  Without a word, she reached for his hand, which he took quickly, steeling himself for the stomach-turning reaction apparating caused. Once he opened his eyes, he couldn't help it, he blinked, rubbing at them. He had to verify he was actually seeing what he was seei
ng. Once certain his vision wasn't playing tricks on him, he took a hesitant step forward.

  It was a crypt, but unlike one he'd ever seen. Along one wall, shelves had been cut into the rock, making alcoves for labeled boxes. They were arranged by centuries, decades, and years. He couldn't see the end of them. The labels were worn and hard to read, but opening one of the steel boxes revealed artifacts, papers, coins. They were certainly things that could be described as treasure, depending on what exactly they were.

  Following his gut feeling since there were far too many to search by hand, he let the prickling of energy guide him down the line. Stopping in front of one marked 1448 where the pull was the strongest, though still muted, he gently pulled the box free from its spot, brushing dust and grime from the top.

  The lock on this one was busted, causing the lid to be dented slightly. Prying the bent portion open, his heart leapt, only to fall seconds later. The box was empty, save for a small sheet of parchment that appeared to have been added later.