I stepped over the rope barrier that stretched across the exit arch and padded across the foyer to the small, plain doorway that led into the chapel. It really wasn’t anything to write home about. Medievalists might admire the oak beams that supported the ceiling or the decorative arcading that still lined the walls—and which had probably at one point held vibrant images—but as Mo had already said, everything else had been stripped away.
I stopped to one side of the doorway and studied the walls. After a moment, I spotted what looked to be an air vent near the base of the external wall. I knelt in front of it, the shield clanging loudly as it hit the stone with a little more force than I’d intended, and shone the phone’s flashlight in. There was no mesh covering either end of the vent, which—considering the hole was big enough for squirrels or other very large rodents to crawl through—was rather odd. “There’s nothing magical here.”
Nothing other than old cobwebs and dead grass that had probably accumulated over the years of mowers going past, anyway.
“I doubt the beam would have emanated from within the vent itself.” Mo stopped several feet away, her hands on her hips as she studied the floor. “Raise the shield and see what happens.”
I obeyed. Nothing did. “Why would Mryddin lead us here if there’s nothing to find? That makes no sense.”
“Mryddin did a lot of things that make no sense to those with reasonable minds, but I suspect that’s not the case here. The reason may be obscure, of course, but we won’t know one way or another until we find whatever it is he wants us to find.”
“Someone should have smacked some sense into that man ages ago,” I muttered.
“Some tried, and more than once.” Mo’s voice was dry. “I think it’s safe to say enjoyment rather than chastisement was the end result.”
“Too much info, I’m thinking.” My gaze went to Luc. He was studying the wall junction to the right of the vent, his brows furrowed and expression intent. “You found something?”
“This corner doesn’t look right.” He paused. “In fact, the whole wall is off.”
I frowned at it, but it basically looked no different to the walls in any other part of this room. “In what way?”
He waved a hand toward the external wall and the vent. “It’s not long enough. When we were outside, the vent was located roughly twenty feet away from the junction between the chapel and the south lobe. But inside, it’s only ten feet.”
I looked down at the floor. He was right. “Meaning there’s a false wall.”
“And it’s not a magical one.” He glanced at Mo. “Can you feel or see anything?”
She stepped up to the wall and pressed her fingers against it. After several seconds, she said, “There’s a door close to the junction of the internal wall and this one. More than that, the earth cannot see.”
“Because it’s protected?” I asked.
“Because it’s been sterilized in the same manner that the monolith’s circle on King Island is sterilized.”
My heart began to beat a whole lot faster. “That was supposedly done when Aldred thrust the sword into the stone.”
“And would suggest whatever lies beyond this wall originates from that time, not Uhtric’s,” Luc commented.
Mo nodded somewhat absently as she trailed her fingers along the stone. Sparks chased after her, indicating she was still in contact with the force of the earth. A foot away from the end of the wall, she stopped. “It’s here somewhere.”
We walked over. The old arch in this section of the wall looked no different to any of the others. There certainly wasn’t any indication that a door was set within it, be it physical or magical.
“If Aldred is responsible for the false wall, then perhaps it’s not for you or me to find.” Luc glanced at me. “Perhaps it will only respond to his heir.”
“Possibly.” Mo moved back and motioned me forward.
I hesitated, then stepped up and pressed a hand against the stone. It was warm and filled with a distant sort of power—the earth’s energy still echoed through it despite the fact its connection had been severed long ago. Perhaps that echo was how Mo had refashioned the stone over on King Island.
After a few more seconds, a deep pulse began within the stone. It was intermittent at first but rapidly grew stronger, until its beat matched that of my heart. Light appeared, first encircling my hand, then spreading out across the stone, until the entire arch shone like moonlight.
Then, with a harsh grating sound, the stone retreated from my touch, revealing a staircase that plunged into deeper darkness.
Chapter Seven
I cautiously shone the flashlight’s beam downward. The stone steps were narrow, but the air rising up the stairwell smelled a whole lot fresher than the abbey tunnel had, which suggested not only that whatever lay below was free from the runoff afflicting the other tunnel, but that it also had some form of ventilation.
I handed the shield to Luc, then cautiously went down, one hand on the wall for balance and the other holding the light. The steps might not be slimy, but they’d been designed for feet far smaller than mine.
The air got colder the deeper we went and, under my fingertips, the wall felt like ice. Unlike the wall and door above, this stone held no echo of the earth’s energy—and hadn’t for a very long time, I suspected. Had it been sterilized as a means of protecting whatever lay below? There might now be only three mages in existence, but the Chen line were earth manipulators and were often used to uncover artifacts on historic sites. Their services generally meant archeologists avoided spending years on hands and knees slowly scraping away dirt, though there were still many digs that did things the old-fashioned way—mostly because funding was limited and didn’t always stretch to employing Chens.
But dead earth couldn’t be read or manipulated, and I would have thought that alone would have been a major giveaway that something odd was going on under the chapel. Unless, of course, no one had ever bothered doing an exploratory dig this close to the tower.
The stairs continued to wind down, and the world above faded away until nothing was left except thick silence and expectation.
Some of the latter was mine.
Most of it wasn’t.
Whatever we were about to uncover, it had been waiting for a very long time for our arrival.
For my arrival.
We eventually reached the bottom of the stairs, and I paused, shining the light down the narrow corridor. It spotlighted a highly decorated metal door riddled with protection spells. Nothing was getting through that thing without invitation—not fire, not flood, not a whole battalion of demons.
“Well, that’s certainly unexpected,” Mo said.
I glanced up at her. “What is?”
“The crest in the middle of that door—it’s Ludvik’s.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Who the hell is Ludvik?”
“A king who reigned before Aldred’s time. He was one of the few before Elysian came onto the scene who’d had any success beating the demon scourge.”
“Is the magic protecting the door his?”
“No, although there was mage blood in his line, and he was rather hard to kill.” She cocked her head sideways, eyes narrowed. “The spells are mostly Mryddin’s, entwined within a few older ones that are Lancastrian in feel. Ludvik did have a number of them in his council, and from what I’ve been told, they were renowned not only as adepts but also fierce warriors.”