“Babel,” the duke said. “Son, I think you’ve discovered an architectural representation of something very dark. What do we know about Charles’s grandfather?”
Paul set the candlestick on the only piece of furniture in the entire space, a circular pedestal made of carved marble. “I’m the wrong person to ask. I’d assumed you would know.”
“Come, let’s go back to the library. This room feels wrong.”
“Very well, but I want to return here later,” the earl answered as he began turning off the gas to the sconces. “It’s a bit like a tomb in here, and... Wait a moment. Did you notice that?”
“What?” Drummond asked.
“The reflection of this candle. The panel we entered has closed slightly, and there’s a mirror on this side. See?” Paul cast the candle’s light towards the wall shared with the passageway. As he moved the candle, the dancing flame also moved, but not in a clean line; more in a rippling fashion. “
“It’s definitely a mirror of some kind, though not silvered glass or mercury,” he told his uncle. “There’s no natural light in this room, which makes it difficult. Is this part of the wall, I wonder?”
He placed his left hand on the mirrored surface, and to his shock, it passed through!
“I don’t like this at all,” Aubrey muttered. “We’re leaving—now.”
James stared, his dark eyes filled with worry. “And we’re not returning without a Bible and MacPherson.”
They gingerly pulled the edge of the panel to open it wide enough for their exit, and then the two Scotsmen re-entered the passageway. In a moment, they’re returned to the library.
“I’m relieved to see you,” Charles said, his colour improved. “What did you find?”
“Secrets. Charles, we need to talk to Martin. He’s the circle’s historian. I want to know more about your grandfather.”
“Is the meeting over then?” the duke asked his nephews.
“Yes, I think it’s best we adjourn for the night and eat. I’ll look in on Beth.”
The four men left the library, and Charles summoned Baxter to lock it. “I want no one to enter that room for the present. Not staff. No one. And especially not the duchess.”
The circle members wouldn’t return to their discussion of the Sinclair history for many days, because three more murders would consume every waking moment of Sinclair’s time. But as the company dispersed that night, the skies over the two estates glistened like a mirror. A white owl left the roof of the dovecote, flew over the Queen Anne House gates, and in a flash, lengthened into its normal, human appearance.
No one noticed the transformation. Standing just beneath a street lamp, his long dark hair pulled back with a scarlet ribbon, Anatole Romanov hailed a hansom for London Hospital.
Far away, beneath the foundations of Istseleniye Castle, the earth began to rumble. Ravens gathered upon the broken ramparts, their glassy eyes fixed upon a circular rock that covered an ancient portal. The stone had been placed there by Samael long before the castle’s keystone was laid, and he’d placed wards and locks upon it through multiple inscriptions and spoken phrases.
The high gates that served as guardians to the castle’s interior park began to shiver, the repeated Sumerian triplets glowing red. A pair of yellow eyes materialised within the magnificent stones, and around these, a shadow took shape. No longer did the gatekeeper fear the forbidding fortress. His plan to escape the confines of the Stone Realms had worked, brought forward by clever manipulation of time and timelessness.
The birdman hopped through the wall’s stone guardians and into the gravelled park. He hadn’t obtained permission to leave his prison, which meant he could be summoned to return at any moment. He had but one chance to alter the rules in his favour.
But he’d need assistance.
From her.
The demonic bird, who’d once been fully human, glanced skyward. “Do you see me?” he called to the indifferent moon. “I’ve done all you asked. Cast your eye upon me now and grant my petition!”
Not yet, came the reply. But soon. You must be patient, my ancient friend. Before I can release you for good, my three knights must ride forth. The first will emerge when Night’s long hours yield to Day’s dominion. The next, when Day and Night cohabit as one. The third will complete the ride, thirteen moons later. For now, my beautiful bird, sleep. Sleep beneath the stones and wait a little longer, and when all is done, we shall gain the throne and rule the world. All must be done in its own time.
The gatekeeper cawed and flapped its wings, sighing. “How I detest Time!” it cawed in disgust. “And this infernal city is nothing but clocks and bells, but we’ll soon fix that, won’t we, my lady? We’ll shatter Time forever!”
He popped out of view, and the only eyes to see it were that of a grey mouse, but the miniscule observer had no chance to tell his many friends beneath the brambles that bordered the woods near the cemetery. Before the tiny bit of mouse flesh could reveal his secrets, he’d be digested inside a black cat, who would later find itself the victim of a rabid dog, who’d then be shot by a rat catcher on his way home for Sunday dinner.
The rat catcher would die that very night, burnt in a fire set by a crazed escapee from Bedlam. The police would find the arsonist wandering amongst the castle’s charred stones, absent of clothing, and shouting of a thousand demons living inside his brain.
No one would believe him.
Save for one man.
Dr. Henry Robert Stuart MacAlpin, 7th Viscount Salperton, who’d visit the lunatic as a courtesy to a fellow physician. And from that moment forward, everything he thought he understood about time, truth, and the inner circle would be turned on its head.
End Book Four
Coming in September, 2018
Book Five of The Redwing Saga
About the Author
Science, writing, opera, and geopolitics are just a few of the many ‘hats’ worn by Sharon K. Gilbert. She has been married to SkyWatchTV host and fellow writer Derek P. Gilbert for nearly twenty years, and during that time, helped to raise a brilliant and beautiful stepdaughter, Nicole Gilbert.
The Gilberts have shared their talents and insights for over a decade with the pioneering Christian podcasts, PID Radio, Gilbert House Fellowship, and View from the Bunker. In addition to co-hosting SkyWatchTV’s flagship interview program and SciFriday each week, Sharon also hosts SkyWatch Women and SkyWatch Women One-on-One. She and Derek speak several times each year at conferences, where they love to discuss news and prophecy with viewers, listeners, and readers.
Sharon’s been following and studying Bible prophecy for over fifty years, and she often says that she’s only scratched the surface. When not immersed in study, a writing project, or scouring the Internet for the latest science news, you can usually find her relaxing in the garden with their faithful hound, Sam T. Dachshund.
Learn more about Sharon and The Redwing Saga at her websites:
www.sharonkgilbert.com and www.theredwingsaga.com
Other Books by Sharon K. Gilbert
Ebola and the Fourth Horseman of the Apocalypse (non-fiction)
Blood Lies: Book One of The Redwing Saga (fiction)
Blood Rites: Book Two of The Redwing Saga (fiction)
The Blood Is the Life: Book Three of The Redwing Saga (fiction)
Winds of Evil (fiction)
Signs and Wonders (fiction)
The Armageddon Strain (fiction)
Contributing Author:
God’s Ghostbusters (non-fiction)
Blood on the Altar (non-fiction)
Pandemonium’s Engine (non-fiction)
I Predict (non-fiction)
When Once We Were a Nation (non-fiction)
The Milieu: Welcome to the Transhuman Resistance (non-fiction)
Baal Cycle - Quoted by Nicolas Wyatt,
p. 199, Word of Tree and Whisper of Stone; Gorgias Press, 2007
Poem by Archibald Stirling Irving, originally published 1841.
Realms of Stone Page 56
