by Morgan Rice
Scarlet and Blake stood there, amazed. She could not believe who it was.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Caitlin stood there, inside the holy chamber of the holy Temple, staring down at the floor. She could not believe what had just happened. As she inserted the golden staff, a secret opening in the floor slowly slid back, revealing a staircase, descending down beneath the ground. A golden light radiated down below, shining up the steps, and it looked as if it were a stairway descending down into heaven itself.
The pounding continued at the door, dozens of soldiers trying to knock it down, and Caitlin knew she had no time to lose. She hurried over and descended through the narrow opening, down the steps, towards the light. As she did, she felt the four keys burning in her pocket, and felt certain that this would lead her to her Dad.
Caitlin hurried down the winding, golden steps, deep beneath the holy Temple, and found herself inside a tunnel system, shining with light. She could hardly believe it: the walls and the floors were completely paved with gold. It was the most opulent place she had ever seen; she felt as if she were walking inside a treasure chest. As she walked down the long corridor, light bounced off of everything, perfectly immaculate and shining.
The corridors twisted and turned forever, as if there were an entire city underground, an endless maze of labyrinths. She turned and turned, and felt herself being led deeper and deeper, towards a very special object—or maybe towards her Dad himself. Whatever it was, it was very well hidden. She could sense that this was the final clue, the final relic.
She thought of all the churches and cloisters and abbeys and palaces she had been to throughout the centuries, and she could hardly believe that this was her last stop. Her heart pounded in her chest as she wondered if maybe her Dad was waiting for her at the end of one of these halls. Or maybe the Shield itself. She could not imagine what else could be here.
Whatever it was, she knew it had to be very, very special. To be hidden inside the most holy Temple in the world—and inside its most holy chamber—beneath a hidden door, one that only she could open…she could only imagine what awaited her.
Caitlin briefly wondered how she would get out of here—but she tried not to worry about that now. Now, she tried to just focus on her Dad. She could hardly believe she was about to actually meet him. What would she say to him? Would he be proud of for? Who was he? Did he look like her?
And why was her lineage so special?
Caitlin’s heart pounded as the walls glowed brighter, and the turns came more quickly. Finally, she began to run, unable to bear the anticipation. She made a final turn, down a short corridor, and at the end of it, a bright light, almost like a flood light, lit up everything with an intense glow.
At the end of the dead-end sat a small altar, made of solid gold. On top of this, sat a small, red velvet pillow. And on top of this, sat a single, small object. Caitlin walked slowly towards it, breathing hard with each step, wondering what it could be.
As she reached it, she looked down and saw it was a small, golden box. It had a small key slot, just big enough to fit a tiny key.
Caitlin examined it, wondering how she would open it, and suddenly remembered: her necklace. She felt it vibrating around her neck, and she reached down and removed it. She reached out and inserted it, praying it would fit.
To her relief, it did. She turned it with a small click, and the floor beneath her began to tremble, as the tiny box opened.
Inside, was a small, rolled up scroll, barely the size of her finger. She reached in, her heart pounding, and extracted it. It was so delicate, so fragile, it felt like it had been sitting there for thousands of years, like it might break in her fingers.
She slowly unrolled it, and stared down at the handwriting. It was an ancient script, and at first she was barely able to make it out. But as she squinted, slowly, the message appeared:
Your guide will appear at the Eastern gate.
She held it, reading it over and over again, trying to figure out what it meant, when suddenly, a side chamber opened in the wall, revealing a set of stairs.
Caitlin was flooded with relief: now she had a way out of here, a way to escape without having to go back through the Temple, through the angry mob awaiting her.
At the same time, suddenly she heard a thunderous, crashing noise: she looked over her shoulder and was amazed to see the ceilings and walls, all solid gold, collapsing. Huge chunks crashed to the floor. Now that she had found the clue, this entire underground chamber was collapsing, she realized, hiding all traces of it. The crashing was heading right for her, and she turned and bolted for the stairs, escaping just before the ceiling collapsed on her.
Caitlin hurried up the staircase, running up as it twisted and turned, spiraling up, again and again, her feet echoing on the gold. She ascended, higher and higher, until finally it led her to a small, arched door. She opened it, and to her amazement, she found herself outdoors, back in Jerusalem, outside the holy Temple, on the far side of its walls.
As she stepped outside she heard a noise behind her, and turned and saw the door closing, then disappearing, blending into the wall. Within moments, she was amazed to see, the door seamlessly blended into the stone wall, leaving no trace there had ever been a door there at all. It was as if the Temple had ejected her outside its walls and sealed itself up again.
Caitlin stood there, on the outskirts of the holy Temple, in the streets of Jerusalem, trying to process it all.
Your guide will appear at the Eastern Gate.
She looked all around, and surveyed the wide stone plaza before the holy Temple. Hundreds of people milled about in every direction, streaming into the Temple, and in the distance she saw the soldiers still trying to break into the holy chamber, where they thought she was. No one suspected that she was out here, far from their eyes.
But now what?
Your guide will appear at the Eastern Gate.
As exhilarated as she was at finding this final clue, she was also disappointed. She had hoped to find her Dad there—or had, at least, hoped to find some sort of magnificent relic. Maybe even the shield.
But it was just this, another clue. She felt that this was the final clue. But she still didn’t know what it meant.
Your guide will appear at the Eastern Gate.
She decided that she had to get up in the air, to look down at the city, to get a bird’s eye view. Maybe that would help her understand.
She leapt into the air and in moments was up high, circling, looking down at Jerusalem. She felt certain that the clue had something to do with her Dad—and with Jerusalem. The Eastern gate.
As she circled, she saw that Jerusalem looked much like a walled, medieval city: there was a large, stone wall surrounding it, and all around it were large, arched gates through which people were entering and exiting the city.
The Eastern gate.
Caitlin circled, and the more she dwelled on it, the more she felt certain the final clue was a reference to the Eastern gate of Jerusalem. She circled again, got her bearings, and headed towards the Eastern side of the city.
As she flew closer to it, down below she could sense a great commotion. Thousands of people were milling around the eastern side of Jerusalem, and they all seemed to be congregating around one entrance. The Eastern gate.
As Caitlin looked down, she saw the eastern gate: it was huge—a hundred feet high, arched and solid gold, with intricate carvings all over it. Above it, up high, in the ramparts, were dozens of Roman soldiers, patrolling, keeping watch on the city.
Caitlin dove down, landed out of sight, then hurried into the thick crowd, blending with the masses. She pushed her way through, towards the gate, trying to see what all the commotion was about. She felt certain that whatever was taking place was somehow related to her.
Finally, she broke through the rows of people, and stood there, looking up at the gate. There were thousands of excited and anxious faces, the crowd stirred up, agitated. She was dying to know what th
ey were looking at. As she reached the front, she finally saw for herself.
A single person was entering through the gate, towards the crowd.
Your guide will appear at the Eastern gate.
She could not believe who it was. She had found, she knew, the man that would bring her to her father.
CHAPTER TWENTY TWO
Caleb stood there, at the base of the Mount of Olives, watching the sky. He had been unable to look away from it ever since Caitlin had left. Secretly, he hoped she would come back. But he knew she couldn’t.
He felt a tightness in his chest, a sadness, and found it hard to breathe. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t stop thinking about her, couldn’t stop feeling as if it might be the last time he ever saw her. He thought back to all the times they had been together, to all the centuries, to his proposal, to their wedding. She was his life. She meant more to him than anything on this earth. And to watch her go, to fly away like that, broke his heart. He knew, rationally, that she should return. But deep down inside, somehow he felt that she never would.
So Caleb stood there, watching, hoping—and as he did, he began to feel something else: he began to sense a great disturbance in the universe. He had felt disturbances before, throughout the centuries, in his battles with Kyle, against the Blacktide Coven, and against a multitude of evil creatures. But he had never felt a disturbance like this. It was a disturbance that shook the very fabric of the earth. He felt the air shaking, the skies tearing apart. He sensed that something very evil—and powerful—had been unleashed. Something so powerful that it could not be contained. Something that might even bring an end to the very world.
Caleb sensed a presence, and looked to see Aiden standing there. Somehow, he had appeared beside him.
“You watch the skies for her,” Aiden observed softly.
Caleb saw Aiden watching the skies, too, and could hear in his voice that he, also, missed her. There was a look of grave concern in his face.
“Yes I do,” Caitlin responded.
“You and Caitlin, you have a very deep destiny. A fate. The two of you were meant to be. Nothing can tear it apart. Nothing.”
Aiden watched in silence.
“Sometimes,” he continued, after a long while, “the world intervenes, and one person dies before the other. That doesn’t mean though, that they are not together.”
He turned and stared meaningfully at Caleb.
Caleb felt his heart pounding at his words. His ominous feeling worsened. Aiden had confirmed his worse fears. Would he die before Caitlin?
Or even worse: would she die before him?
Before Caleb could ask, he suddenly heard a shuffling, the sound of dozens of feet, and he turned and saw, to his surprise, dozens of Aiden’s coven members. Somehow, they had all managed to creep up, silently, behind him. They all stood there, in their white robes, watching the skies. Caleb saw their worried expressions, and realized they sensed it, too. The entire coven was out in force, waiting. As if they already knew. As if preparing for a war.
Caleb stood there, among them, and felt proud to be among them, proud to be with Aiden. He knew some terrible danger was coming for them, and no matter what the outcome, he felt proud to be able to make this last stand with them. If this were to be his final place on earth, the last battle he fought, he would proudly do it here, fighting with these men. And he would fight to his very last breath.
He sensed a shadow, and looked back up at the skies: as he watched, slowly, imperceptibly, it darkened. The crystal-clear afternoon, with a blue sky and sun baking the Israeli desert, began to darken. At first, Caleb thought that perhaps it was a passing thundercloud—or maybe even an eclipse of the sun.
But as he looked closely, as he began to hear a great fluttering noise, to sense a tremendous vibration, he knew this was no cloud. It was no flock of birds. It was a legion of vampires. Hundreds of them.
No. Thousands of them.
They swarmed the skies like locusts, moving in a huge flock, right for him, right for the Mount of Olives. Caleb sensed immediately that they were the object of the attack. That they had come to annihilate them.
CHAPTER TWENTY THREE
Caitlin stood in the midst of the thick crowd, staring up at the Eastern gate, the sun glaring behind it. She had to squint at the site, and for a moment, she could hardly believe it was true. She wondered if her eyes were playing tricks on her. Making things worse, there was also such a light radiating off the man coming through that it was hard for Caitlin to see where the sun ended and the man began.
Caitlin watched as the man, seated on a donkey, rode in through the Eastern gate. The animal ambled through the thick masses, as all around him swarmed dozens of followers, dressed in long, flowing white robes. The man himself wore a long, white robe and hood, which was lowered, exposing his face to the crowd. He had long, light brown hair going down to his cheekbones, and a short brown beard. His eyes were large and hazel, and they radiated light, like two glowing marbles. In fact, there was such light radiating off of this man that Caitlin had to squint. And he had such an aura of peace, she could immediately sense he was different. This was no ordinary person.
Caitlin could hardly imagine this was real. She felt as if she were in a dream, as if she were watching herself from the outside. And yet, from the pushing and shoving of the crowd, the noisy street, the smell, the braying of donkeys and bleating of sheep, the heat, the chaos, she knew it was real. It was very, very real.
To her astonishment, Caitlin realized that the man before her, the man entering in a donkey through the Eastern gate of Jerusalem, was none other than Jesus.
Your guide will appear the Eastern gate.
She could not believe it. She was standing there, at the doorway to history. In history. Watching it unfold as it happened.
Her heart started pounding, as she realized that all the clues, in all the places, had led her to this spot. To this moment in time. This was it. Jesus was her guide. He would lead her to her Dad.
As Caitlin watched him enter, she sensed it to be true. It felt right. Every bone, every vibration in her body told her that it was him, that he was her guide. That he would be the one to take her on the final leg of her journey. To meet her father. To bring her to the Shield.
She watched as he got closer, slowly riding through the crowd. He held up a single hand as he went, palm out, his eyes half-closed. As he went, she watched in disbelief as several crowd members, hunched over and limping, suddenly stood up straight. Healed.
It was incredible. As he went, anyone close to him became healed.
Being Jerusalem, this was also a chaotic and crowded scene. Flooding into the gate behind him were dozens of followers, and behind these there appeared dozens of Romans soldiers, marching, trying to clear the way, to regain order and control. They had scowls on their faces, and looked deeply displeased that Jesus had come, and that he had drawn this crowd. People elbowed to get closer to him, pushing each other out of the way. People screamed Jesus’ name in every direction, wanting his attention, wanting to be healed. Others screamed curses at him, throwing stones, calling him a false Messiah.
Yet as the stones flew through the air, they fell harmlessly to the ground, falling limp as they neared him.
It seemed like everyone in this crowd had a different opinion, a different agenda, different beliefs, a different perspective of him. Caitlin could see from the angry faces of the guards that the Romans were threatened by him and wanted to keep him under a tight watch. Amidst the Romans she saw there was standing a single man, clearly their governor. She recognized his face from the history books: Pontius Pilate. The Prefect of Rome. The one who had killed Jesus.
Caitlin thought of history, and she knew what would happen. Jesus, riding now so harmlessly on his donkey, would soon be captured. Imprisoned. Put on trial. And then, crucified.
The thought of it made Caitlin cringe. She looked at him now—so serene, so peaceful—and it seemed hard to believe that any ill would ev
er come to him. Just being there, on the outskirts of the crowd, she could already feel a sense of peace. It was actually the first time she had felt a real sense of peace since she had arrived back in this place and time. She didn’t know why, but she felt a great sense of comfort around him.
She also felt excited. Every clue she had ever found pointed her to this moment in time. She felt that, in just moments, he would lead her to her Dad.
As Jesus made his way through the crowd on his donkey, slowly, the crowd parted ways. Caitlin pushed her way through a row of people, trying to get closer. She had to see him up close. She wondered if he would even acknowledge her—or if she were just imagining all of this. Had the clue meant something else entirely?
She felt the urgency of time now more than ever. She didn’t have a moment to lose.
Caitlin managed to edge closer, her heart pounding. As she neared him, she felt a warmth spreading throughout her entire body, and an indescribable sense of peace. Jesus was sitting straight up, eyes half closed, looking at everything and nothing at the same time. Caitlin hoped, prayed, that somehow he might acknowledge her. That this was all real. That he could lead her to her Dad.
As she got closer, he suddenly turned her way, and looked directly at her. Then, he lowered his hand and held it out to her.
Caitlin could hardly breathe, she was so nervous. He was holding out his fingertips, as if for her to touch them. She reached out, slowly, her hand shaking, and the tips of her fingers just barely grazed his.
As they did, her entire body was electrified. The shock ran through her fingertips, down her arm, and through her entire body. The amount of energy that poured through him was more than she could fathom: it was like a tsunami. The energy rejuvenated and healed her at the same time. It made her aware of her own power. Of her own existence. For the first time in as long she could remember, she felt truly alive.
