Threshold of Destiny (The Mysterium Secret Book 1)

by Linn Chapel

  Holt turned to scan the area and then he pointed. “Over there, Tressa. The spring waters feed the moat.” He led them past a small, rippling cascade until they came to a still pool of water. Deep underneath the surface lay the subterranean springs, he told them.

  As they walked on together, Tressa noticed that Holt kept to the shade of the trees as much as possible. Whenever he was forced to cross a patch of sunlight, he winced a bit. The transition was probably making Holt feel much worse than he let on, she thought. And yet, it had to be exhilarating to see some of the familiar sights from his childhood by daylight.

  Just then, Tressa’s attention was captured by an especially charming lane. Small medieval dwellings stood side-by-side along its short length and lush spring vegetation spilled over the garden walls near each front door.

  “This lane looks like it hasn’t changed since the Middle Ages,” exclaimed Tressa.

  Holt paused under the shade of a tree. “I don’t believe it has,” he said musingly. “It’s called the Vicar’s Close. But we mustn’t take in the sights of Wells much longer. Langley is safer, for now.”

  Luke said, “You’re right. I’ll get down to business and then we can leave.”

  “What is your ‘business’, Luke?” asked Holt.

  “I’m going to be snooping on the Operation’s activities back in the States,” Luke explained.

  “Snooping?”

  “Spying on messages, using the Internet. By the way, I couldn’t find any Internet signal at Langley. Hugh should call for some tech support and have that fixed.”

  Holt said dryly, “I don’t think the current owner would agree to that, knowing him. But Langley has plenty of other modern features. The cottages have been wired for electricity, and there’s even a telephone at Arbor Cottage for Hugh’s convenience.” Was he laughing at Luke’s frustration? Tressa thought he was, but she couldn’t be sure.

  “Holt, do you mean to say that there’s no Internet at Langley? No signal at all?” asked Luke.

  “Yes, that’s right.”

  Luke shook his head in disbelief. “And I thought Wells was lost in a loophole in time! At least it has the Internet.”

  Together they made plans to meet Luke at a nearby café in an hour. Just before Luke parted from them, he said, “Why don’t you tour the interior of the Cathedral while you’re waiting for me?”

  Tressa turned eagerly to her companions. Peter readily agreed, but Holt hesitated, eyeing the expanse of sunny lawn in front of the Cathedral. He glanced up at the sky, where several clouds were drifting past. “I’ll wait here in the shade until the sun goes behind a cloud.”

  Tressa felt uneasy about leaving Holt behind. Would he disappear somewhere to be alone instead of joining them inside? She looked up at a forested slope that rose above the village. Maybe Holt would rather slip away into the trees.

  As she walked away with Peter, she glanced back over her shoulder. She was only partially reassured when she saw that Holt was still standing where they had left him in the shade of a spreading oak tree, looking up at the towers of the Cathedral.

  Entering through the portal, she passed with Peter into the cool vastness within the ancient church. Stone columns lined the central aisle, giving Tressa the sudden impression of magnificent trees growing on either side of a grand avenue. The huge columns drew her gaze upward, higher and higher, to the soaring vault overhead.

  Entranced, she noticed that Peter was pacing thoughtfully around a nearby column. Then he moved closer to the stone wall to examine the stained-glass windows. She laughed. “You’re thinking about your video projects, aren’t you?”

  “Background footage,” he murmured, half to himself. “If only I had some of my equipment with me!”

  Tressa swept her gaze over the echoing space. She called out softly, “Peter, look at the stone arches that meet up ahead. There’s a pair of them, and they look like wings.”

  “No, not a pair of wings, Tressa. A pair of scissors.”

  Turning quickly, she saw that Holt had finally entered the Cathedral and was standing just behind her.

  He was looking up at the crossed arches. “A large tower rises from the roof at that very spot. It’s so heavy that it caused the vault to sink during the Middle Ages. This pair of arches was invented to prop everything up. It’s called the Scissors Arch because the two curves cross in middle, like the pivot in a pair of scissors.”

  “It’s a very graceful invention,” she murmured. She gave Holt a hopeful smile as he drew his gaze away from the Scissors Arch and faced her. “Holt, will you show me around? You know so much about the Cathedral!”

  Holt shook his head. “Not now, Tressa.” His gaze swept around the nave. “My mind is too busy with the task of separating past from present. How well I remember the last time I was here. It was a fine spring day, just like this one, and I can almost pretend that the last two hundred years never happened.” His shoulders stiffened. “But then my memories from all those dark years press upon me and I know it’s not true.”

  Holt walked away without another word, passing through the columns. Soon he had disappeared from Tressa’s sight, and only the shafts of light from the medieval windows could be seen, slanting through the cool shadows. She wished she could join him, but she could tell that he wanted to be alone.

  Feeling frustrated and helpless, she made her way up the aisle to join Peter. He was lost in a creative haze, muttering about camera angles, and Tressa soon left him to explore on her own.

  As she walked past the sanctuary with its altar, she marveled at the dappled light that shone in through the tall encircling windows. Their stained-glass scenes glowed in jewel-like colors of emerald, ruby and gold.

  Wandering further, she found herself at the foot of a wide stone staircase that flared outward as it descended like a beautiful fan. Centuries of feet had worn the steps deeply in the middle. To Tressa’s eyes, it seemed as if a waterfall had coursed down the center of the stone steps and smoothed out a broad, smooth channel.

  She climbed upward along the middle of the channel to emerge in a large chamber. In the center of the space, a mighty central column supported a stone ceiling that was covered with intricate carvings.

  Stepping further into the chamber, Tressa touched the huge central column. Thin, carved tracts of stone ran upward to surge across the ceiling like the delicate ripples of an upward-gushing fountain. The stone ripples seemed to be held aloft by some mystic power, she thought. Her eyes followed them as they fanned outward to meet more stone ripples in a pattern of breathtaking precision.

  Lowering her gaze, she peered into each corner of the room, but there was no sign of Holt. He must have gone somewhere else to think and brood. When his bodily changes were all over in a few more days and the fever left him, he’d feel better, at least physically. But as for his dark and distant moods, she wondered if they would ever pass.

  It was very quiet in the bright, spacious chamber. Aside from the faint hum of traffic in the distance, all she could hear was the soft sound of her footfalls on the stone floor as she crossed the space to one of the tall windows. Here the glass was clear instead of colored, and she could see the blueness of the sky outside.

  She was alone in the room, and it would be easy to enter the Unseen World and look for Holt’s other body. Maybe she’d learn something about him that she couldn’t detect in the Earthly Realm.

  Brother Brendan’s gruff voice came back to her. Don’t wander around the Unseen World alone, Tressa. But she’d enter it from a room next to the Cathedral, and that was surely a holy place of safety.

  Moving closer to one of the windows, she brought out a coin from her pocket and held it up in the sunshine, angling it to create a flash of light. Focusing on the brilliant spot, she slowly widened it into a doorway with her mind. A moment later, she stepped through the bright entrance into the mist beyond.

  Vapor swirled past her in drifts. Below the knees of her spiritual body, the ever-present blanket of mist inche
d slowly over the hidden ground, enveloping her feet and ankles. She turned around to see that the bright doorway was fading. Soon it had disappeared.

  Despite the vaporous drifts, she could tell that she was standing on the lower slopes of a massive mount. Rocks and promontories emerged from the mist-shrouded flanks, dripping with the strange, frozen substance that could be seen in the sanctuaries of the Unseen World, glowing like iridescent ice.

  The sound of something trickling came to Tressa, then. Looking up, she spotted a stream of clear liquid falling from the lip of a shining pool. The liquid flowed downward, leaving rims of iridescent ice along its path.

  She thought of the springs that fed the pool near Wells Cathedral in the Earthly Realm and smiled to see how closely the twin sanctuaries mirrored one another. If she were to explore the slopes above, she was certain she’d find a few more pools, all generating fresh liquid like this one.

  But she had other things on her mind just now. Peering everywhere into the vapor, she looked for Holt. As she wandered, she could see the silhouettes of tall, pale trunks and realized that she was passing through an open woodland.

  Tressa walked onward. Overhead, the thin silver branches interlaced with each other in a delicate tracery. It looked so much like the stone patterns on the ceiling in the Earthly Realm that she stopped for a moment to gaze upward in wonder.

  Had this woodland sprung up in the Unseen World to mirror the stone carvings in the Earthly Realm? Or maybe it had been the other way around.

  Humans could see things in the Unseen World, after all. It required a concentrated effort that was hard to sustain, but the effort itself usually drew those human seekers into safe surroundings and granted them a natural protective barrier that anyone with Mysterium blood sorely lacked. As Tressa gazed upward, she wondered if the master builder of the cathedral had made such a foray and spotted these otherworldly trees with their beautiful patterns, and then planned the stone designs upon his return.

  She gave herself a little shake. She needed to find Holt and return to the Earthly Realm herself, as soon as possible.

  There was still no sign of him, so she walked onward. The sloping ground under her feet leveled out as she reached the edge of the woodland, and she guessed that she was leaving the sanctuary and its safety.

  She hesitated for a moment, and then she conjured up a protective candle between her hands. Holding it aloft, she walked onward.

  Billows of mist obscured her vision and then a gap appeared and she spotted a dark figure standing in the vapor up ahead. It had to be Holt, dressed in his customary black clothing. Tressa increased her pace.

  His eyes were bound to be closed when she reached him. He wouldn’t see her, but she’d be able to see him and search for some clue to his unhappiness. She’d also have a look around in the mist for any shadows that might be lurking nearby, endangering him.

  But as she passed through the last billowing drift of vapor, she drew up short, transfixed by fear.

  Twenty-four

  It wasn’t Holt, after all.

  It was a dark pillar of smoke from which a black tendril reached out, growing quickly toward one of her legs like the tip of an ebony vine.

  Turning, she fled back toward the sanctuary with such haste that she had no energy to spare. Her conjured candle disappeared, leaving her without its light. As she ran onward, the vapor darkened from the presence of the evil one.

  She darted a glance behind her and saw that the arm of the demon was lengthening rapidly, reaching for her.

  Just ahead lay the silver woodland at the boundary of the sanctuary. From its mist-shrouded branches, a smear of blinding light suddenly flew outward. The light firmed into a white hawk, and with a keening cry, the bright spirit flew into the mist behind Tressa.

  She dashed into the safety of the woodland. When she turned around, she saw with relief that the black vine was snaking backward, retreating from the talons of the white hawk.

  Soon the illuminatus flew back to join Tressa in the woods. Still in the form of a hawk, it came to perch on a silver branch. Tressa called out her thanks in a shaky voice that hung in the air, vibrating, until it melted away.

  Searching any further for Holt was too risky, for he didn’t seem to be anywhere nearby. His spirit must be far away from hers, but that came as no surprise.

  It was time to go back to the Earthly Realm, but first she’d need a spot of light to form the doorway. She looked about, searching for something bright and small.

  The illuminatus must have noticed, for just then it flew down from its branch. Where it had perched, a small white candle now shimmered into being. The illuminatus turned in midair and flew back toward the candle. Its veil of feathers disappeared and it became so fiery bright that Tressa was forced to close her eyes.

  When she opened them again, a flame was flickering on the wick of the candle and the spirit had veiled itself once more with white feathers. In the form of a hawk, it perched nearby on a silver branch, watching her.

  Tressa called out her thanks a second time, and then centered her attention on the candle flame, slowly widening it. When it was large enough to form a bright doorway, she stepped forward with her mind.

  Opening the eyes of her Earthly body, she found herself standing in the spacious stone chamber near one of the tall, arched windows. Outside the glass, the expanse of blue sky was dotted with creamy white clouds.

  The coin she had used to enter the Unseen World was still in her hand. She slipped it back into her pocket and filled her lungs with Earthly air.

  Aware that Luke must have finished his snooping at the café, Tressa turned and made her way back to the steps.

  To her surprise, she found that Holt was just coming up the flaring stone staircase. “There you are,” he said as he reached the top a moment later. “Peter and I have been searching for you.”

  Tressa looked closely at Holt. There was a reflective expression on his face, and he seemed almost – content.

  “Holt, did something happen?” she asked.

  He seemed taken aback. “Why? What do you mean?”

  “You look different,” she said softly.

  For once, he didn’t seem to resent her questions. “How perceptive of you, Tressa. A strange thing happened to me just a little while ago. As I was walking about the cathedral, I suddenly felt as if I were surrounded by lights. But when I looked about, I saw nothing that could have caused them. I’m sure it was just a wild fancy, nothing more.”

  Tressa shook her head. “No, those lights were probably made by illuminati – bright spirits. Most people call them angels. I’ve heard of them making a ring before, but I’ve never seen it. You must feel different, now.”

  “I do,” he said pensively. Then his gaze sharpened. “But how can you speak with such certainty, Tressa?”

  She smiled faintly. “I can sometimes see the illuminati. You could too, with some preparation.”

  As for the demons – she wouldn’t mention them now. Her recent escape was still so fresh in her mind that Holt was bound to notice her lingering distress.

  “Something frightened you, Tressa,” he said, reading her emotions anyway. His eyes narrowed as they peered behind her into the corners of the chamber. “How could you possibly fall into trouble here in the Chapter House? There’s no one else in the room.”

  “It was nothing.”

  “You must tell me, Tressa.” Holt gave her an uncompromising look.

  Just then, the sound of voices drifted upwards as a small group of visitors appeared at the bottom of the steps. Grateful for the reprieve, Tressa moved aside. Holt joined her, drawing in a breath of frustration.

  As soon as the visitors had passed, Tressa turned to descend the stairs. “We shouldn’t keep Peter waiting.”

  Holt caught up with her halfway down the staircase. He detained her with a firm grip on her arm. “Tell me what happened, Tressa.”

  “It’s hard to explain,” she said with a glance upward. The voices of the ot
her visitors could be heard as they toured the room above.

  “I’ll have an answer now, if you please.”

  Her arm was caught in Holt’s grip and she couldn’t move. Quietly, she said, “I was looking for... never mind who I was looking for. I ran into something else, instead. A demon.”

  “A demon,” Holt repeated in an undertone. “Why would a demon appear to you in the Chapter House of the cathedral? There is nothing evil about this place, only good.”

  “I wasn’t exactly here. But I was able to reach safety, with some help.”

  “Why did you take such a risk?” he asked angrily. When she looked away, he cupped her cheek and made her look up at him again.

  “I was looking for you, Holt. To find out if you were alright.”

  A smile flitted across his face. “Yes, you would attempt such a thing, wouldn’t you? And did you find me?”

  She shook her head.

  Holt seemed unsurprised. “Don’t wander into that kind of danger again, Tressa. Later tonight, you must give me a full account,” he told her firmly, taking her by the shoulders. His hands were stiff and unyielding and she could feel his mood of irritation seeping through her clothes.

  Tressa’s heart sank. It seemed so easy for Holt to keep his distance. Once he would have pulled her into his arms and kissed her, but now he merely said in a frustrated voice, “Tressa, try to stay out of trouble.”

  Just then, Peter appeared at the bottom of the steps, looking for them. Holt released her and Tressa made her way down the remainder of the flight of steps, with Holt following close behind.

  They left the cathedral with Peter, then. Chimes sounded above them as they circled the premises, and looking up, Tressa spotted the face of a mighty clock on the exterior of the cathedral. A pair of mechanical knights stood just above it, each of them striking a brass bell with a spear. The hour on the dial was noon, and as she stood watching, the mechanical knights struck twelve times.

  When the chiming was over, Holt said, “It’s a marvelous clock, isn’t it? There’s an even older clock face inside the transept.” The stern tone had left his voice and his eyes were no longer flashing with anger.