by Amy Lignor
“Why didn’t you follow his voice?”
Jumping from her seat, Kathryn waved her arms in the air. She paced back and forth in front of him. “Don’t you think we tried? You can’t do it! No matter which way you go the voices seem to travel someplace else. You get all turned around. Like this morning,” pausing, Kathryn stood her ground in front of him. “We heard Emmanuel’s voice so we took off down the grand staircase. I went down one hall; she went down another. But his voice just disappeared. Then it reappeared somewhere else. At one point I thought I heard a ton of different voices coming from every single room. It’s crazy, Gareth. I’m starting to think this was a mental institution in its day, not a palace.”
Gareth stood up. “I’m here now. It’s going to be fine.”
Kathryn nodded slowly. “We have to find him, Gareth.”
“We will.” He added, “I promise.”
“Wait a minute.” Kathryn took a small step back. Her face was suddenly a mask of worry. “You still didn’t tell me where Leah is?”
Gareth’s heart fell with her question. Closing his eyes, he extended the story that he’d begun.
When he was finished, Kathryn simply glared at him. “You actually said that to her? How could you say that? She’s risked her life more than once to—”
“I know.” Gareth began to pace. “I’m an idiot, okay? I was just so tired, surprised. It pissed me off. Hell, I don’t know.”
“Leah wouldn’t just run off and abandon us, Gareth. If she thinks there’s something in Kissamos that can help, then there’s something in Kissamos that can help. She’s not exactly known for being wrong.”
“Enough.” Gareth sighed. “I know. I was out of line. And I can’t even apologize because she’s not here!”
Walking to the corner of the room, Kathryn went through the supplies and picked out a pair of large flashlights. Taking his arm, she began to lead him down a staircase located to the left. “Don’t worry about it.”
“Don’t worry about it?”
“For some reason that I assume only God knows, because the rest of us still have no clue,” she added, sounding just like the baby sister he loved, “Leah is completely in love with you. So she’ll forgive you.” Kathryn whispered, “Amazing women like Leah and I are used to the men in our lives acting like complete asses.”
“Gee, thanks.” Gareth looked down the staircase as the light dimmed all around them. “May I ask where we’re going?”
When they reached the bottom of the ancient staircase, Kathryn flipped the switches on the specialized high-end flashlights used by diggers to explore the deepest of caves and the darkest of dungeons, and handed one to him. “You need to see something.”
The beam of light covered a large swath of space. And as he aimed it down the corridor, Gareth increased his speed in order to catch up with the quick figure who seemed to march with purpose.
As they rushed by a row of open doors leading into pitch dark chambers, descriptions flew from Kathryn’s mouth. He knew she was trying to catch him up as fast as she could, labeling the area all around. Titles like the ‘Fresco Room’ and ‘Interior Shrine’ were shouted back at him over her shoulder. Gareth asked about the small square of muted light he saw in the distance before they turned down yet another eerie hallway.
“That’s the central courtyard,” Kathryn replied, racing through the open door of yet another chamber.
Gareth tripped. “Why don’t you just turn on the damn lights? I know that when they renovated this place they added electricity.” Reaching a hand out, he pulled her to a stop.
“They switched everything off. They didn’t take too kindly to us being here,” Kathryn said. “I don’t really blame them. After all, it’s the tourists who bring money into this city, and with our presence making the most notable historical site off-limits, I think they wanted us to get out as soon as possible.”
“That’s another thing,” Gareth asked, as his swirling mind began to calm down long enough to focus. “Where’s everybody else?”
Kathryn’s commanding voice turned back to that of a teenage girl, “They left already.”
“You’re the only ones who stayed to pack things up?”
“No. There are others in Heraklion. We were here, finishing up, when all this happened.”
“Why didn’t you go to Heraklion and get them out here to help?”
“I couldn’t.”
“Why the hell not?”
“Because of what…we found.”
“What are you talking about?”
Turning away from him, she walked toward a small door at the far end of the chamber. Gareth was thankful that the rooms were so small, because the high-powered flashlights illuminated almost every inch of the area.
She pointed through the archway. “This is the antechamber of the Throne Room,” she explained. “We thought we heard Emmanuel’s voice coming from in here early this morning…before I called you, so we raced down to see if we could find anything.”
Gareth shook his head. “Who is this ‘we’ you keep talking about? If everyone left, then who’s here helping you?”
Without answering, she turned and walked silently into the next room.
Quickly, Gareth followed. The flashlights added to the glow of small candles that had been set along the base of the walls. Aiming the larger beam at the cement floor in order to get his eyes to adjust, Gareth slowly took in the dark red walls, decorated with bright ivory ornaments. Stone benches lined the baseboards, once offering the royal family a place to sit where they would greet their loyal subjects.
Two huge griffins were painted on each side of the alabaster throne, and had their chins raised to the sky. Their yellow eyes stared at the ceiling; their paws were posed in front of them and their tails were raised in the air. The regal heads were adorned with plumes of feathers drawn in red, blue, and yellow that coiled all around them.
This would be beautiful, Gareth thought for a split second. But the headless man sitting between the two magical creatures destroyed any beauty the Throne Room possessed.
His shock grew when a person suddenly rose up from behind the throne, moving past the beheaded corpse and directly into his line of sight. As he focused on the human, Gareth struggled to breathe.
Lange Rouy, the one and only woman he’d loved before his perfect librarian, was now standing directly in front of him.
CHAPTER 40
The twisted dream from Pergamon is coming true.
Leah turned back to the sweet man standing beside her. His strong hand was set on the small of her back, as if he was trying to balance her slightly trembling form to keep her from falling down and knocking herself out cold, which is exactly what she felt like doing.
Alexandros escorted her to the middle of the room. Leah went with him quietly, looking around at the many drawings decorating the stone walls. Some had faded over time, of course, but others still showed the faces of people who’d been graced with tiny stars in their eyes. They gazed serenely at her; their smiles were filled with relief and happiness.
A large candle burned in the corner of the room, placed in front of a small window. If the sun were hidden, Leah imagined that the light would somehow work as a beacon for the lost, leading them through the trees and directly to the door of this beautiful haven.
“Drink?”
No longer able to avoid it, Leah moved her eyes back to the large fountain sitting in the center of the room.
“Are you all right?”
Her heart was pounding as the man, now holding a cup in his hand, offered her much needed water.
Water. Not mercury, she screamed at herself. This man is no predator. Even the cup he held out was normal; a dark brown coffee mug, not some fiery green goblet that pierced her gaze.
Leah ordered herself to act normal. Taking a step forward, she peered into the font, and found exactly what she knew would be there. The water was just water, not a silver element that would poison her brain.
Reach
ing out, she attempted to don the smile of an ordinary person…something she hadn’t felt like in years. Her hand shook when she accepted the cup, but she drank the cool water straight down and then raised her head. “I’m sorry. I’m a little…”
“Crazy?” he laughed.
Leah couldn’t help but smile at the soft humor in his voice. “I certainly feel crazy right about now.”
Taking her hand, Alexandros led her over to one of the benches. “Don’t fret. The commander of God’s army is certainly a sight to behold, Leah. In fact, he can take your breath away at times.”
She glanced up at the face on the rock. “With that sword he carried, he could take it away faster than a drunk driver.” She looked at the suddenly silent man. “Sorry,” she mumbled. “I’m good at blasphemy.”
He let go of a deep, rich laugh. “You do not—how do you Americans say? Buy into the whole thing?”
Leah thought for a moment. “Well, I buy more now than I did before.”
“Converting, are you?”
She returned his grin. “I’ve heard that Michael’s sword can convict or correct, so maybe he’s trying to correct me.”
Nodding, Alexandros pointed to the candle. “That was put here for Poor Clare. She was like you.”
“A crazy woman who didn’t watch her mouth?”
“Good heavens, no.” He laughed. “She had faith, as do you. Deep down. She was seen as a candle of hope for many. But she definitely has a unique history. You see, her family was wealthy but she left it all behind to join St. Francis in his work.”
“St. Francis. He’s a favorite of my sister’s, I think.”
“Nice to have family.”
“Do you have family?” Leah asked. Her rapid pulse seemed to calm with every word spoken by his lighthearted voice.
“I do.” He smiled. “And I love them very much. I wish they were with me all the time.”
“They’re not on the island?”
“A few. Others are located all over.”
“Big family, huh?”
“As extended as they come,” he said. “Big families can be difficult sometimes, especially when you wish to be alone. They can also have completely different ideas than you do. But I guess the hardest part of all is when they do things we don’t like.” He leaned back against the wall. “There are times when they make the wrong choices and we wonder if their heads are working. We know we wouldn’t walk the particular path they chose, so we can’t understand why they did.”
“Can’t live with ‘em,” Leah said with a laugh, staring at the man whose simple words had made more sense than any book she’d ever read, “can’t live without ‘em.”
“Amen,” he grinned. “It hurts when they leave us behind, too. We want to see them again. But when they do come back, we waste all our time yelling at them for leaving us in the first place. A rather silly thing to do, really. Don’t you agree?”
Leah remained silent as his speech struck home.
“And when they’re threatened,” Alexandros continued, setting the brown mug down on the bench beside him. “We tend to go a little mad. Even though we’re annoyed with them, we love them, so we always worry something bad will happen. That’s when the protective gene comes out in all of us.”
Leah swallowed hard. “But if something bad happens we can save them. Can’t we?”
“Of course we can. And if we need help doing so,” he said, pointing up at the face of the archangel, “there is power we cannot see that is always there to help us.”
Leah followed his gaze.
“Michael stands up for the children of the people. He was also the teacher of Moses, who he once spoke to from a burning bush.”
“I was told that was God?”
Alexandros tilted his head. “Some say God was the voice; others say the Angel of the Lord was the voice; others say both could be heard…opinions vary.”
Leah met the watchful eyes of Michael. Completely exhausted from the seriousness of her journey, she found her humor once again. “Either way, it must’ve been quite a shock to have a plant talk to you.”
Alexandros burst into laughter. When he stopped, he added a little humor of his own. “Not to mention the eruption into flames part. You don’t normally see that type of behavior from a shrub.”
She smiled wide. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.”
“There’s more,” Leah said. Whether she felt there was more to learn or just wanted to extend the peace for a little longer, she couldn’t tell.
Alexandros nodded. “Michael helped Moses. He liked him so much that he kept his body and soul away from the Beast. He was also known as a doctor who helped cure the sick.”
“Jack of all trades,” Leah whispered.
He looked up at the ancient wall. “I’m glad they gave him a face here.”
“Excuse me?”
“Well, there are statues and paintings all over the world of Michael where he has no face.”
“Why is that?”
His stare was direct. “Certain cultures believe, since it is Michael who weighs the souls on Judgment Day, only a person who is dead or dying should be allowed to see his face clearly.”
Leah thought for a moment. “You haven’t even mentioned the biggest thing he did.”
“Which is?”
“He killed Satan.”
“Not killed,” Alexandros corrected quickly. “With his sword, Michael cast the Beast from Heaven and into the world below. Our world. Satan sustained many injuries but none were enough to kill him. And Michael…well, he only sustained one.”
Leah searched her memory banks. “What was that?”
“It is believed that Michael’s wings are made of emeralds. Supposedly, Lucifer broke a piece off one of the wings when he fell from Heaven.”
Leah sat up straighter on the bench. Satan’s stone comes from Michael, she thought, as a wave of happiness raced through her. “Then the stone is actually good. There’d be no way to use anything good to bring harm to others. Right?”
Although Alexandros paused for a moment at her words, his gaze held no confusion. “Michael is just like his weapon, Leah. He is a double-edged sword. The whole world is.”
“What do you mean?”
“The stone isn’t good or bad; it’s simply powerful. Whoever holds it in their hands is the master of that power. If someone truthful has it, the stone is good. If someone with deadly intentions gets their hands on that kind of power, nothing good can come from it.”
“It’s automatically evil,” Leah said, as her glimmer of hope deflated in seconds. She sighed, “Everything works both ways. You’re damned if you do—” She stopped, knowing she’d just broken another commandment. “Sorry. Again.”
Alexandros simply smiled.
She took a deep breath. Her voice was barely a whisper, “So the stone will destroy if it’s set in Satan’s crown. I assume it gets even more power then.”
For the first time, Leah watched Alexandros look at her as if she was actually crazy. “I’m not sure what you’re referring to. Satan never had a crown.”
Leah’s spine stiffened. “What?”
“The crown spoken about was worn by Lucifer.”
“Same guy.”
“No,” Alexandros stated. “The crown was the crown of an angel; Lucifer. The emerald you speak of came from an archangel. So looking at it from your point of view, both of the pieces are actually good.”
She could feel her anger begin to build again. “This makes no sense. If there is no crown of Satan, why has everyone been going so nuts over trying to find the stupid thing?” She caught herself, quickly editing her remark, “Throughout history, I mean?”
“Two crowns made it to Earth. Satan can claim one if he places it on his head, down here. Just like the jewel, it all depends on who’s wearing it as to what it becomes. There are even two stones.”
“Should have known.” Leah grumbled, hanging her head at the news. “And who does the other belong
to?”
He pat the back of her hand, like a father sensing his daughter’s frustration. “The other stone came from God’s sapphire seat in Heaven. Both gems were created during the battle between Michael and Lucifer.”
“And where’s that gem supposed to be?” Her tone was more annoyed than surprised.
“I don’t know,” he laughed. “It was passed along to various protectors throughout history. Passed around so many times, in fact, that no one has any idea. But it’s out there somewhere.”
“The opposite of the other,” she added in a whisper. “Everything’s opposite. Everything is either black or white.”
“Oh no. Everything and everyone are both.”
Leah sat with her eyes closed; her once rapid brain now felt like nothing more than a rancid bowl of oatmeal.
Alexandros’s voice grew different with his next words, and Leah turned at the slight sound of stress that she perceived. “Everyone is good and bad, Leah, they just have to find a balance. Once they find that balance, it is their choice to be whichever one they want to be. Satan is the villain in your scenarios, but there are others. And it’s up to them to choose. They won’t just be granted power from a crown with a stone set in it. Those are powerful, yes, but they are still just things. The person using them would have to decide who they want to be and then, unfortunately, use that power at will.” He paused. “Dark or light is personal choice. Everyone’s choice. Human beings are not perfect.”
She sighed. “Yeah. That I know.”
“I hope so,” he said. Reaching out, he took her hand. “Just remember that even those who work to save others, or try to right a mistake in the world, still have evil within them. And, even the most decent may end up having to use a little of that evil to get the job done. The only difference is, the virtuous know when to stop. They know when it is not their right to be judge and jury against others.”
Standing slowly, Leah walked to the stone font and looked down into the depths of the water, wondering if the scene would somehow turn into something Arthurian if she waited long enough. Maybe if she stood still a golden sword would rise up and let her carry it into battle to save the people she loved. But no matter how fantastical her ideas had become, Leah knew this was still real life. So she was not surprised when nothing more than her own confused reflection could be seen in the glassy surface.
