A strange rasping sound intruded into her thoughts. She turned towards the noise, only to find that it was Adric, snoring. How can he sleep in all this? He must have been extremely tired.
Pausing in her rowing for a moment, she reached over and shook Adric, but he didn’t even stir. Then, and only then, did Chrymos think back to the moment when Odaldi had given her the additional vial of elixir. He added an additional ingredient. What if that contained something to make me sleep?
The more that Chrymos thought about it, the more that seemed the most likely explanation for Adric’s current state—and for Odaldi’s odd behavior. He was very, very angry with me, he would see this as the ideal means of getting back at me without Della Porta blaming him.
The realization sent chills down Chrymos’ spine. I’m about to run out of elixir—but I dare not take what’s left in that jar or I might never wake up.
At that moment, Chrymos was as close to panicking as she had been since her memory had returned. Here I am, deep underground, a river carrying me towards who knows what—and I soon won’t be able to breathe. All the pain and anguish of her isolation in Hades came flooding back.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-THREE
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 5.57am Wednesday June 23 1610
Perhaps it was the shield strapped to her back, which still seemed to vibrate with hidden energies. Or maybe it was her long-suppressed emotions finally coming to the fore. In any event, Chrymos felt a powerful reminder of her duties yet undone. Adric is depending on you. Your father needs you. The children will die without you.
Chrymos dug deep within herself—her new/old self. I can do this. She now remembered only too well how fiercely she had resisted the Darke Warrior Nekhbet as the demonic creature sought to break Chrymos’ spirit during her thousands of years in captivity. You didn’t destroy me then, I won’t let you win now.
Little had changed in terms of her circumstances—Chrymos was still heading into the unknown in a barely-controlled boat, her friend Adric unconscious beside her, poisonous gases burning her throat and perhaps mere minutes away from causing her to die in agony—but Chrymos had her attitude back.
Not a moment too soon, as the river widened, joined by other tributaries. The coracle, which had been floating gently along, was now bouncing around from side to side. Chrymos could barely control the vessel in quiet waters, to do so in the midst of a full-blown torrent was next to impossible.
Chrymos knew what was coming next. She could hear the familiar rumble of the waterfall up ahead. Unless I can somehow steer into that very narrow side river, this boat is about to go sailing over the edge of the waterfall. It’s a long way down, and not a soft landing.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FOUR
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 5.59am Wednesday June 23 1610
Chrymos abandoned any further attempt at controlling the coracle. Instead, she moved over behind Adric and managed to get his sleeping body into a sitting position, enough that she could slip her arms through under his armpits and clasp his arms with her hands. I guess this is as close to an embrace as we’re going to get, Adric.
Chrymos braced, and then straightened herself up, lifting Adric as she did so. His head lolled forward, but the position seemed one that could work.
Now we wait for the hard part.
“You know, Adric,” Chrymos told her comatose friend, “I always thought we could have made a half-decent couple, you and I, in other circumstances. Turns out, it wouldn’t have worked, anyway—the age gap can get a little noticeable after a while. Especially when you’re coming up to, say, fifty and getting a bit grey and saggy, and I’m ten thousand and fifty but still look like I’m twenty.”
Chrymos offered a bitter-sweet smile. “Humans have such short lifespans. You barely have a chance to make an impact and then you’re gone. But every life is precious, no matter how short.”
Chrymos fell quiet for a moment, listening as best she could for the fast-approaching waterfall. “My mother, my real mother, Ayil, told me—” She struggled to remember the exact words. “—that ‘humans are capable of great things within their far-too-limited lifespans. Amazing achievements, yes, but also matchless loyalty, unbreakable relationships, even love that prevails when all else is lost.’” Chrymos sighed. “You and I, we’ll have to settle for friendship.”
At that moment, the coracle was flung over the edge of the waterfall.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-FIVE
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 6.05 a.m. Wednesday June 23 1610
Chrymos was ready. As soon as she felt the boat begin to tip over the edge, she launched herself and Adric into the air, summoning her ectoplasmic wings with a thought. It had been several years since Chrymos had last used her wings—and then only briefly, during the escape from Hades—but her mind connected with them immediately and she was easily able to hover in the air, holding the unconscious Adric tightly as she did so. So far, so good. But you are heavier than I expected, Adric.
Chrymos’ immediate challenge was to avoid the cascades of water—in the darkness, with only a few patches of glowing red powder on my hand to guide me—and then find her way into the passage down below through which she had previously entered the water chamber. To make matters worse, the poisonous gases niggled at her throat as her own elixir began to wear off—and she was starting to loosen her grip on Adric.
In that moment, seeing the giant blocks of stone that had previously served as a stairway, inspired Chrymos’ next move. She flew upward rather than down, and landed easily at the entrance to the upper passage that had served as her escape route a short time earlier.
Chrymos gently deposited Adric at the passage entrance, thought away her wings, and then took a few steps along the passageway. Once again, she stood on a hidden trigger that diverted the underground river and drained the chamber below. On this occasion, however, Chrymos returned to the entranceway and stood next to the sleeping Adric, watching from above as the waterfall was diverted and the chamber drained away. She dipped her hand into her tunic pocket for more red powder, but when she withdrew it from her pocket, only a small portion of her hand was coated in the glowing substance. I’ll have to conserve the powder more carefully from now on.
Once the chamber below was almost completely emptied, Chrymos reached down, hoisted Adric onto her right shoulder, and plunged over the edge, summoning her wings as she did so. Her destination was the lower passageway, the curved path that she had originally followed to enter this chamber. Seems like a lifetime ago. She glided smoothly in to land near the beginning of the passageway, but well past the secret switch that had triggered the waterfall.
“Okay, Adric. That’s enough flying for now.” This passage was too narrow for Chrymos to fly through, at least not whilst carrying a body, so she resorted to half-carrying, mostly-dragging Adric backwards through the tunnel.
The journey through this passageway had taken perhaps ten minutes when Chrymos had been limping along on her own. The return, dragging Adric, took at least twice as long—and, with every step, Chrymos found it more and more difficult to breathe. The poisonous gas was starting to take its toll.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SIX
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 6.30 a.m. Wednesday June 23 1610
Finally, after what seemed like a never-ending marathon, Chrymos arrived at the far entry to the passageway and gratefully relaxed her grasp on Adric, at least for the moment. The labyrinth is coming up, I need to see what those creatures are doing.
Chrymos crept to the edge of the passage, six feet above ground, and looked down at the sarcophagi below. She tried to breathe quietly and shallowly, but it was a losing battle—now every breath turned into a coughing fit as the poison burned through her system. She tried breathing through her tunic, holding the fabric over her mouth, but that didn’t help very much. I need to get back to the higher levels of the catacombs. If I don’t escape these
gases soon—She left the thought unfinished.
Chrymos fought to get her breathing under control as she surveyed the landscape below. There was no movement and at first, she thought she had a clear run. But then something—some shapes—caught the corner of her eye. What are they?
She couldn’t see very well in the semi-darkness, so she reached into her pocket for a little more of the red powder—nearly her last. The extra powder helped, a little—now Chrymos could see that several of the shapes down below were actually those of the creatures—former students, according to Ruben—that had been chasing her.
Then Chrymos remembered what else Ruben had said. “I used an appropriate spell to freeze them in place.” And she also remembered, only too well, how helpless she had felt when first Carracci and then Ruben had used such spells on her.
What do I do? They’re horrible, horrible cannibalistic creatures. But they’ll die if that spell is not removed.
For the first time since she had remembered that she was an Outcast Angel, Chrymos felt the urge to pray, to help guide her decision. So she did. “Father God, now that I know how unworthy I am, I don’t know if You will answer me. But still I pray to You for guidance. What should I do? Help these creatures or leave them to starve?”
She waited for some response. Whether it came from God or not Chrymos couldn’t say, but words from a half-remembered sermon popped into her mind. “Whatever you did for one of the least of these my brethren, you did for me.”
Put like that, the answer is obvious.
Chrymos launched herself into the air, wings forming around her, and flew down to the nearest creature. Through a medley of coughing and choking, she whispered the enabling spell. “ālepwāw ālepkāp hēnūnbēt hēwāw rēšhēhē.”
Chrymos recited the same spell to each of the other three creatures and saw them all start to move again. Satisfied that she had done everything that she should, she flew back to the ledge.
As Chrymos prepared to land, she saw that Adric was awake. He was watching her, wide-eyed.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-SEVEN
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 6.40 a.m. Wednesday June 23 1610
“Hi.”
That, thought Chrymos, is about the lamest thing I could have said to Adric. But what else can I say? He’s caught me with my wings out.
She landed lightly in front of Adric, waiting desperately for his reaction.
Finally, Adric replied. “That’s a new look for you, C.”
“Uh, yes,” said Chrymos. “Turns out that I’m an Outcast Angel.”
“I figured. Nice wings.” Adric offered up a half-smile.
“Thanks.” Chrymos might have said more, but another coughing fit cut her short. When she had recovered sufficiently, she explained. “Sorry, my elixir has run out.”
“But you do have more,” said Adric. “I only drank half of the jar you gave me.”
“Unfortunately,” said Chrymos, “I’m certain that Odaldi has added a sleeping mixture in there as well. That’s why you fell asleep.” She coughed again, her throat in agony.
“Then go ahead and take it,” said Adric. “We’re safe enough here, I can watch over you while you sleep.”
“I can’t do that,” croaked Chrymos, “I’m not sure how long I’d be asleep. What happens if your gas elixir runs out again while I’m still sleeping? It’s too dangerous. The real answer is to get to the upper levels of the catacombs as quickly as we can.”
Adric attempted to persuade Chrymos, but her mind was made up.
Finally, he nodded in agreement. “Okay, then let’s get going.” He looked at her wings. “So, can you carry me with those wings?”
“I’ve already done so once this morning,” said Chrymos, whispering to minimize further coughing.
“Then let’s fly,” said Adric. “We need to get to the top corner, over that way, to the right.”
“That’s not where I came in,” said Chrymos.
“No, but it’s how I got here,” said Adric. “I don’t know if the Master told you, but that’s where they dug their way inside, long before they discovered the false tomb and the steps. It’s a far easier exit out of this part of the catacombs, but it’s quite a climb from this level. Unless you have wings,” he added admiringly.
“Then that’s where we’ll go,” said Chrymos. “Now stand up and face away from me so that I can carry you properly.”
Adric quickly did as he was told. Chrymos stretched out her hands and grabbed him around his waist. Then she launched off the ledge, her wings flapping powerfully as she gained altitude. Adric, after reacting very nervously as they left the ledge, snuggled into Chrymos.
“Well, this is a nice way to travel,” he said. “I guess this flying is one of the memories you lost, C?”
“Gone completely until a short time ago,” whispered Chrymos. “Not a memory you’d expect to forget, is it?”
“So any idea how you lost your memory?” asked Adric. Chrymos started to bring Adric up to speed with what had happened to her, though glossing over the sheer number of years that had passed while she had been imprisoned. I don’t want him to think I’m an old hag.
By the time that Chrymos had reported on the role that the Academy had played in her memory loss, they had flown halfway to their destination.
“So the Academy stole your memory and then just dumped you on the streets of Florence?” asked Adric. Chrymos was about to answer but then her body began convulsing wildly as the poison gas mounted a fresh attack. Her back arched and she could feel herself beginning to let go of Adric as her muscles went into spasm.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-EIGHT
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 6.50 a.m. Wednesday June 23 1610
Adric started to slip out of Chrymos’ grasp as she shook and twisted in mid-air. He grabbed at her arms and held on as best he could, but he could see that Chrymos couldn’t stay aloft much longer.
He looked down. We’re still in the middle of the labyrinth. “You need to land, C. I’ll try to guide you down.”
He wasn’t sure if Chrymos heard him, but she definitely began to descend, so he decided to proceed as if she was listening. “Okay, down here, down, down, left, left, left—no, left!”
It wasn’t exactly a controlled descent. They narrowly missed two labyrinth walls as they descended, too quickly. Chrymos lurched from side to side, her wings flapping unsteadily, her body jerking, as the foul gas took its toll. The pair fell the last few feet, as Chrymos’ wings simply vanished. But they were down, more or less in one piece. Chrymos collapsed onto the ground, her body still convulsing.
Adric took command. “Chrymos, where’s the elixir?”
Coughing and spluttering, Chrymos weakly pointed to the left-hand pocket of her tunic. Adric knelt down, reached inside her pocket, and took out the glass vial. He uncorked it and, lifting Chrymos into a sitting position, held the drink to her lips. “Here, Chrymos. Drink.”
Between coughing fits, Chrymos managed to swallow the elixir down. The coughing didn’t stop instantly but it gradually eased and her body, after much shaking and shivering, calmed.
Adric gently lowered Chrymos to the ground. He took off his cloak and wadded it into a ball, which he placed under her head as a makeshift pillow. She didn’t seem that comfortable, lying on a shield, but it was easier to leave the shield strapped to her back than to try to remove it.
Adric watched and waited, until Chrymos began breathing more easily. Looks like you were right, C, that elixir does seem to be making you sleep.
Once he had ensured that Chrymos was as comfortable as possible, Adric stood up and looked around to see exactly where they had ended up.
I guess we’re in the middle of the labyrinth. I can’t see any of the red marks I made so I obviously haven’t been through this part before. I hope it’s not a dead end.
It was difficult to see much in the gloom—the patches of red powder on Chrymos’ hand did very little to illuminate the
area—so Adric fished his own vial of powder out from his pocket and held it above his head.
There still wasn’t much to see. They were in a small room, about eight feet square, with twelve-foot-high walls. Two doorways at one end of the room seemed to lead off into other passageways. There’s no way of telling where those passages lead.
At first, Adric simply propped himself against the wall near Chrymos, determined to wait until she woke up.
After about ten minutes, however, when Chrymos was still breathing steadily but little else was happening, Adric stood up, stretched, jumped up and down on the spot a few times, paced the room from one end to the other, and then went from side to side. That passed a few more minutes. Chrymos was still sleeping soundly, though, with no sign of awakening.
Eventually, Adric crouched down beside her. “Sorry, C, I’ll go stir-crazy if I don’t do something. I’m going to explore this labyrinth, to see if we can get out from here. I won’t be long.”
The sleeping angel gave no response.
Adric stood up once more, lifted his red powder lantern in front of him, and then headed out through the left-hand doorway.
ONE HUNDRED AND FORTY-NINE
Catacombs of San Gennaro, Naples, Kingdom of Naples, 7.30 a.m. Wednesday June 23 1610
One of the creatures shuffled into the room where the young woman lay on the ground.
Its name had been Mauricio and it was the newest of the four creatures to be transformed, having been banished to the catacombs a mere four months earlier after a student prank went horribly wrong. In the months that it had been trapped in the poisonous gases, the creature had shed much of its hair. It still retained a predominantly human appearance, but was merely a caricature of its former self.
Academy of Secrets: From the Outcast Angels Christian Fantasy & Science Fiction series Page 33
