“That could be the Protettori mantra,” Jake said.
“So the Chalice Well and White Springs didn’t come from the chalice being buried as legend says?” Kendall asked.
“The legends are only partially true. The Chalice Well and the White Springs come from the same spring as the Fountain of Youth, and they have some mild healing properties, but not like the actual fountain.”
“You built the temple alone?” Nathan asked. “You said no one else knew about it. Don’t tell me you killed everyone who knew about it . . . Bloody hell. You did.”
“I did what I had to do to protect the objects.”
It was harsh, but Jake understood. Sometimes in the course of things, hard choices had to be made.
“My experience with the relics convinced me that I had to keep them hidden, and there were many more relics that needed to be found. I couldn’t do it alone, so I found men who were worthy, and I established the brotherhood.”
“What about women?” Kendall asked, frowning.
“Things were different then,” Raphael said. “But there have been a few women who helped me along the way.” His eyes clouded again. “Strong women.” He took a breath as if separating himself from that thought. “Eventually, the brotherhood flourished in secret. Many were monks, and we helped build the abbey and hid among them. Now, I have only you to help me. Marco is old, his memory fading.”
“We will help you,” Kendall said, her face fierce as a warrior. “We will find the Holy Grail.”
“We need to start quickly,” Raphael said. “We have lost a lot of time.”
They left the room, and Jake looked back at the relics, hidden and protected for so long. “I can’t believe you’re the centurion.”
“That was a long time ago. Now I’m Raphael.”
No wonder he’d looked so mad when Jake had called him Attila the Hun. Romans hated Attila.
“There’s a statue of you at St. Peter’s Basilica,” Nathan said.
Raphael made a sound of derision. “I’ve seen it. It’s not a good likeness.”
“The legends say you died a martyr,” Kendall said.
“The legends were wrong. I’m going to check on the men.”
“I’ll go too,” Jake said. “I would pay to see Fergus with them.”
“Gentlemen!” Fergus raised his voice, but the men weren’t listening. They were all asking questions, most of which he didn’t understand. They wanted more food. More drink. They wanted out of this room. They were confused. And rude. All the things he’d done for Nathan—protecting him, sheltering him, keeping him healthy and sane—had been a walk in the park compared to this. He was going to suggest a long vacation after they got rid of this abominable Reaper.
“What are you then?” the big blond man asked, touching the lapel of Fergus’s suit.
Fergus discreetly pulled back. “A butler.”
“What’s that?”
“I take care of things.”
“For the king, eh?”
“The king?”
“King Arthur?”
He’d forgotten about that. Raphael had mentioned something about the men thinking Nathan was King Arthur. “Yes, the king.” Perhaps if they believed that, they would leave him alone.
But they didn’t. They crowded around him, eating, burping, and asking questions. His head pounded, and he took one of his headache pills and washed it down with a large swallow of water, wishing it was something stronger.
“Where does one piss in this place?” the bald man asked.
Fergus walked to the wall and pointed to a large mixing bowl he’d borrowed from the kitchen. He hoped the cook had another because this one was out of service permanently. “We’ve brought a chamber pot.” He tried—unsuccessfully, he feared—not to grimace. “You can place it around the corner until other arrangements are made.” Dear God, where was Raphael?
Finally the din died down and the men sat down or lay on the floor. They seemed tired. Perhaps eating after hundreds of years of stillness had a tiring effect on the body. Slowly, the room filled with the sounds of sleep, snoring and worse. Fergus sat on a stone bench of some sort—he hoped it wasn’t an altar—and closed his eyes.
Raphael led Kendall, Nathan, and Jake back to the room where the men were being held. He opened the lock and they stepped inside. The room was empty. Fergus was lying stiff as a board on a stone surface, fast asleep.
“Fergus!” Raphael roared.
Fergus shot up off the bench, every hair in place, not a wrinkle in his suit. “Yes.” He looked around the room and blinked. “What happened? Where are they?”
“You tell me,” Raphael said.
“I don’t know. I fell asleep.” He looked frantic.
“Did you drink the water?” Raphael shouted.
“Yes,” Fergus said.
“It contained a strong sedative.”
Fergus’s mouth dropped open. “And you didn’t think to warn me?”
“I didn’t expect you to share drink with them.”
“I had a headache.” Fergus’s voice rose above his normal, controlled tone. “I needed water to take my pill.”
Raphael rubbed his forehead, his brows tense. “We must find them.”
“Is it such a problem?” Fergus asked. “They’re odd, and irritating, but they’re just men.”
“They are rogues. I put them to sleep because I couldn’t kill them.”
Fergus’s eyes bugged out. “And you left me here, defenseless, with those monsters?” he yelled.
Raphael looked surprised. Fergus didn’t often get rattled. “That’s why I sedated them.”
Fergus’s face was so red it looked like it might explode. “I’m going to my bed. You can find these bloody rogues yourself.”
“What is that smell?” Kendall asked.
“That’s the mixing bowl,” Fergus said, his shoulders stiff as he marched from the room.
“What do you mean, you put them to sleep because you couldn’t kill them?” Nathan asked. “I knew they were unstable but . . .”
“They went rogue. They were out of control,” Raphael said.
“You have rogue sentinels?” Jake asked.
“Rogue guardians. They were never intended to be sentinels to continue their work in statue form. I merely turned them to stone to keep them out of trouble. Sometimes living so long can have a negative effect. It can become tiresome just existing for so many centuries. Some guardians turned to drink or lost sight of their mission. If one of them got out of control, they had to be put to rest.”
“How do you keep the rogues from becoming sentinels?” Nathan asked. “For that matter, what makes the guardians turn into sentinels?”
“A guardian who chooses to become a sentinel takes a vow . . . and other things take place. A ceremony.”
“What kind of ceremony?” Kendall asked.
“That doesn’t matter now. We have to find these rogues.”
“They couldn’t have vanished,” Jake said. “Unless they found your unfinished portal.” That caused a few moments of chaos, until they found a clue—a sandwich crust near a far wall.
“The bolt-hole,” Raphael said. “They found the bolt-hole. I forgot about it.”
“Do all the rooms have bolt-holes?” Nathan asked.
“No. But this one hasn’t been used in centuries. It’s not stable.” He gritted his teeth. “I hope it collapsed on them.” He pulled out his dagger and dug at a stone near the sandwich crust. There was a clicking sound and two stones slid back, leaving an opening in the floor similar to the one in the temple that led to the fountain.
“Where does it lead?” Jake asked.
“To the railroad. Damn Marco. Why did he wake them?” Raphael looked like he wanted to take someone’s head off. “I’ll check out the bolt-hole. You find Marco. Have the
guards search the castle and grounds.”
Raphael grimaced and started down into the hole. There appeared to be steps.
“Don’t you need a flashlight?” Jake asked.
“No.”
“You can see in the dark?” Nathan asked.
Raphael’s eyes lightened until they were so pale they glowed. “So can you,” he said as he disappeared.
“That’s nice,” Jake said, his voice flat. “You can see in the dark too.”
Kendall threw him a warning glance.
Nathan found Hank and had the guard and his men start searching for Marco. “Let’s check his room again. Maybe he’s in bed now.”
“I’m getting worried that no one’s seen him in hours,” Kendall said.
“He reminds me of my grandmother,” Jake said. “She had Alzheimer’s there at the end. Her memory came and went. Half the time she didn’t know who she was. She talked crazy shit, sometimes wandered around the neighborhood.”
They found Marco’s room unlocked. He wasn’t there, and his bed—a four-poster that looked like something from the dark ages—showed no signs of being used.
“Look at this place,” Kendall said. “This furniture is old, really old. I can’t begin to date it.” In addition to her expertise with relics, Kendall knew a lot about antiques.
“Like Marco,” Jake said. “Where could he be?”
They moved around the room, looking at the heavy pieces of furniture, hoping for some clue. Kendall turned with a worried frown. “I don’t think he’s been here for a while.”
“Is that your sixth sense talking?” Jake asked.
“Maybe. I just can’t feel him here. Not that my sixth sense has been on track lately. I hope he’s not wandering around outside. His memory comes and goes. He could be lost.”
“The guards haven’t seen him,” Nathan said.
“Marco probably has ways in and out of this place that we don’t know about,” Jake said, feeling Kendall’s sense of alarm. “Look for his suitcase.”
“I’ll check the closet,” Kendall said. “No suitcase, but he has a lot of robes, and one pair of jeans.”
“Marco in jeans?” Jake lifted a brow. “That’s hard to picture.” Even harder was the tighty-whities he found in a dresser. He didn’t show the others. It felt too irreverent.
Nathan was checking the top of the closet, where Kendall was too short to reach. “He’d probably be as young as Raphael if he hadn’t stopped drinking the water.”
“Was he old when you and Nathan were here as kids?” Jake asked.
Kendall tucked a robe back into place. “He was younger, but not a lot. He must have stopped drinking the water before then. But I glimpsed him as a much younger man in a vision the first time I met him, when Jake and I were locked up in your hotel.”
Nathan frowned at the memory. “I’d like to know why he stopped drinking. It must be some sort of punishment.”
“Self-imposed?” Jake asked. “What could he have done to deserve that? Maybe Marco’s the Reaper’s son.”
“I seriously doubt it.” Kendall bent and looked under the bed.
Jake saw Nathan glance at her ass. He cleared his throat and when Nathan looked up, Jake lifted a brow.
Nathan’s jaw tightened. “I don’t see a suitcase.”
“It’s not here either,” Kendall said.
“I don’t think he’s at the castle any longer,” Jake said, voicing what he felt in his gut.
“This doesn’t feel right,” Nathan said.
“Look at this.” Kendall held up a map that was lying on a heavy antique desk. “Looks like he was planning on going somewhere.”
Jake and Nathan crowded close, staring at the map. Jake cursed.
“What?” Kendall asked.
“It’s a map of Prague. That’s where the Reaper’s portal led.”
CHAPTER TWELVE
PRAGUE.” RAPHAEL STOOD in the doorway. His tattoos contrasted with his pale face like ink on a newspaper.
Jake pointed to the map. “Marco’s suitcase is missing and he has a map of Prague.”
Raphael walked inside, his face bleak. “Marco’s going after the Reaper. We have to stop him before he gets killed.”
“We can take the jet,” Nathan said. “I’ll check with the guards again to make sure no one’s seen him before we go rushing off after him.”
“No.” Raphael shook his head. “I’ll go to Prague and look for the Reaper while you start searching for the chalice.”
“You’re still injured,” Kendall said. “You shouldn’t be alone.”
“It’s more important that you are protected,” Raphael said. “The Reaper needs you to find the chalice.”
“We’ll protect her,” Nathan said, sharing a look with Jake that said at least on this they agreed. Each of them would die for Kendall.
“I suggest you start searching for the chalice immediately,” Raphael said. “Let Nathan’s guards look for the rogues, wherever they are.”
“No sign of them?” Jake asked.
Raphael shook his head. “I don’t want them exposed to the public, but we can’t waste time looking for them. I’m afraid for Marco.”
It was obvious to Jake that Raphael cared for the old man. “Nathan’s guards are good. They’ll find them.”
Nathan looked a little surprised at the admission from Jake. “Should I tell the guards who the men really are?”
“No,” Raphael said. “I’d rather they continue to think the men are my friends.”
“Your old, crazy friends who don’t even speak like modern men,” Jake added. “They’ll probably buy it. You’re not exactly normal.”
“We don’t even know where to start looking for the chalice,” Kendall said.
“You’ll find it,” Raphael said.
“You sound sure,” Jake said. “Do you know something we don’t?”
Raphael studied Kendall, his expression soft. “I trust her.”
Jake didn’t like the way he said it. It wasn’t the words, it was the possessive way he’d said them. He hoped Raphael wasn’t falling for her too. Jake already had enough competition in Nathan . . . King Arthur. What the hell . . .
“You were considering killing her just a couple of hours ago.”
“I explained that already,” Raphael said, walking to the door. “I must depart.”
“Are you strong enough to travel?” Kendall asked.
“I have to be.”
“Don’t you need more water before you go?” Jake asked.
“We all do,” Raphael said. “This is going to be dangerous.” They followed him to the room where the water was kept.
“This is where I saw the vials,” Kendall said as she passed the round table. “I don’t suppose this table was used by King Arthur?”
“It was,” Raphael said. “This was a scaled down version of the original.” He found the vials Kendall had discovered and handed one to each of them. “Later, we’ll have a ceremony, but for now, carry this with you.”
“What kind of ceremony?” Nathan asked.
“A confirmation.” Raphael opened his vial and took a drink of water.
“What do we do with the water?” Kendall asked. “Drink if we’re injured?”
“Drink some now,” Raphael said. “Save the rest for if you need it.”
“It’s a Protettori first-aid kit,” Jake said. He turned up the vial and took a drink. The water left a strange sensation as it rolled over his tongue and down his throat. He felt . . . more. More alive. More alert.
“Wow,” Kendall said. She looked like she’d jumped off a cliff and landed on her feet.
Her senses probably heightened the sensations of taking her first drink of water. “Intense?”
She looked at the vial. “I feel like I could fly.”
&nb
sp; “Don’t take too much,” Raphael said. “It can be dangerous.”
“Raphael, I know you have confidence in my abilities, but do you have any ideas about where we should start in our search?” Kendall said.
“Start with Luke’s journal. He’s been searching for the Holy Grail for a long time. I’m sure he will have notes, probably in code, on what he’s discovered. That may eliminate some false leads. Trust your instincts.” Raphael took another drink of water. “Happy hunting,” he said and disappeared through the mural on the wall.
Kendall laid the journal on the round table, thinking how incredible it was that King Arthur had used it. She wondered which seat he had used, and briefly considered trying to find out. Then Nathan sat next to her. She looked at him and felt light-headed, thinking that he could have some part of King Arthur in him. She didn’t understand reincarnation, had never believed in it, and wasn’t sure she did now, but there had to be some explanation for all this. If Nathan was King Arthur, she and Jake had betrayed him. While she had been married to Arthur, she’d fallen in love with Lancelot. And had an affair with him, if her visions were correct. Poor Nathan.
“Do I have dirt on my face?” he asked.
She shook her head, feeling guilty and sad. “No. Just thinking.”
“Want to share?” Jake sat next to her.
Kendall looked from him to Nathan, her thoughts whirling. She couldn’t explain that part of her thoughts, but she could discuss the rest. “What if it’s true?” She didn’t need to explain her question. They knew what she meant. “Here we are sitting where they probably sat.” Although that may not have been true for Guinevere. Women were treated so poorly in those days, being looked at as property, and worse. But they hadn’t treated her that way. Kendall froze. Holy crap. Were those her thoughts? Or Guinevere’s?
“Can anyone else join that conversation going on in your head?” Jake asked.
Nathan grinned. “She’s always been like this.”
That made Jake frown, and then Nathan too, as he realized what he’d said.
“Sorry, I was just . . .”
“I know,” Jake said. “It’s a lot to believe. King Arthur and the Holy Grail, the Fountain of Youth, Christ’s crucifixion. I feel like I’m stuck in one of my screwed-up dreams.” He put his elbows on the table, and Kendall wondered if Lancelot had ever sat that way. He grinned. “Hell, maybe you guys aren’t even here.”
The Lost Chalice (The Relic Seekers Book 3) Page 14
