I shrugged. “Long time.”
“Reminds me of home,” Alucard said. “But the Cities of the Dead in New Orleans have nothing on this,” he admitted, lifting his head to gaze at the bulletproof, stained-glass window high above.
“A true mausoleum is a rare sight these days,” War explained, “unless you visit one owned by the government, but those have become glorified museums. They were originally built as a celebration of life rather than a convenient place to bury their dead.”
I nodded along distractedly, turning away from them to study the two-story, Temple family tree that occupied the tiled, back wall of a wide, shallow pool. A fountain gurgled in the center—emitting a soothing, bubbling trickle rather than an overbearing geyser.
The main difference between typical family trees and mine was that the names of my relatives weren’t located on the branches—they were on the roots. Sapphires marked each woman, and rubies each man, their names etched with silver into the tiles beside each gem. My name was the last and lowest part of the root system, having no other relatives to share the nutrient production for the massive tree.
I was the last Temple.
As I glanced at the waterline below my name, I noticed that the tiles simply ended rather than continuing down into the water. That seemed strange. I stared harder, thinking that the tiles might just be obscured by the rippling surface of the water. Or perhaps the light was reflecting strangely under the surface. But as I continued to lean forward, I realized it wasn’t a reflection—
“You’re welcome,” Alucard said. And then he shoved me into the pool. I went completely underwater and instinctively sat back up with a gasp, lifting my hand to make him pay with a helping of excessive force.
But…
The water felt surprisingly refreshing, and since I was already wet, I figured that I may as well take a closer look at the wall. So I turned around, ignoring the baffled look on Alucard’s face, and submerged. Thankfully, the pool was only a few feet deep, and the water was clean and clear, so I had no problem studying the back wall.
I froze to see that not only was there no tile, but that there were faded lines carved into the surface. It made me think of three roads branching out from the waterline to extend to different points at the base of the pool, forming a triangular shape when taken as a whole.
Occasionally, the indentions seemed to flare brighter, as if reflecting the electrical lights from the ceiling outside the pool.
Maybe the indentions had been painted with metallic flecks at one point in time.
I lifted my head from the water and wiped at my eyes, staring down at where I had seen the lines. Seeing them combined with the tree above, they actually kind of looked like…roots—but not a part of the tiled tree. More like the tiles had covered something up.
“No need to play it cool, Nate,” Alucard said, sounding annoyed. “You still had frosting in your hair, so I was trying to be helpful.”
I waved a hand for him to be quiet as I frowned at the three underwater roots.
I reached back under the water to trace them with my fingers, seeing if there were any kind of hidden levers or buttons, or if any of the lower tiles were loose, but I found nothing.
I let out a sigh, scrubbed my hands through my hair, and dunked one more time, figuring I might as well put some effort into my bath.
War and Alucard watched me in silence, looking concerned by my strange behavior.
“What were you doing?” War finally asked, peering past me.
“Nothing. I thought I saw something odd, but I think it’s just some old etchings on the wall—beneath the tiles.”
He nodded. “I was just asking Alucard about the increased security. The automatic sensors that turn on the lights, the vault door, the bulletproof windows…” he trailed off, watching me nod along. “Was all that to protect this Hourglass and Hand of God?” he asked, indicating the items I’d set down on the lip of the pool. I’d been checking over them—for the thousandth time—a few minutes ago, looking for any kind of missed secret. I’d even tried dipping them in the water and scrubbing them with my shirt.
And I’d found nothing.
Frustrated by my lack of new discoveries, I’d set them down and resorted to studying the tree. I’d had no new epiphanies or revelations regarding the things Starlight or Hermes had said. I hadn’t even told War and Alucard about Hermes’ visit, as a matter of fact—because that might have led to questions about my secret plan. The one that the Messenger God had somehow figured out. His warning hadn’t necessarily deterred me. In fact, it had kind of motivated me, but I had a few other things to check on before I did anything rash.
“My parents hid them here,” I explained, “so they upped the security on the place. They were hidden in such a manner that only I could have ever found them anyway, so I don’t know why they even bothered. Adding the hardcore upgrades made the place look more suspicious, as if they were trying to lure burglars here.”
War nodded. “Unless there are still more secrets to find.”
I shook my head at the echo of my own thoughts. “Been there done that. No levers or trap doors. No trick walls. I even hired an Archaeologist to come check it out, using every tool at his disposal—thermal imaging, ground penetration devices, metal detectors…” I waved a hand, implying that the list went on and on. “And I didn’t sense any magical secrets either. The place is as quiet as…well, a tomb.”
Alucard patted War on the shoulder consolingly. “It was a good theory. Nate’s spent many a drunken night here, trying to bust that particular nut,” he explained.
I groaned at his phrasing, which seemed to make him happy.
War shrugged. “I was thinking about a magician, for example…” he mused, casting me a meaningful look. “How they use sleight of hand, letting you think you know what’s happening, when they are really leading you by the nose.”
I grunted. “I wish. I fucking hate mysteries. Trust me. The only other things of value are these gems,” I said, pointing at the family tree. “And although they are indeed valuable, they don’t warrant this kind of security system.”
War let out a sigh before glancing back up at the domed ceiling and then out at the cavernous halls branching out from the pool. “Despite her mysteries, this place is a hall of victory,” he mused. “I can practically feel your ancestors’ achievements.” He turned to look at me. “You come from a noble family, Temple. And I’m not referring to their monetary wealth.”
I sat down on the edge of the fountain, not bothering to take my feet out of the water as I stared up at the colossal family tree and the multitude of gems indicating different ancestors. I nodded to War’s statement, careful to keep my face neutral. Some of my ancestors hadn’t been quite so noble. “For the most part, yes.”
“Every family has its share of black sheep,” War chastised, waving a hand dismissively. “Why are you making that face?”
I sighed, wishing I’d hidden my emotions better. “I was just thinking about something my dad once said to me,” I told him.
Because I was remembering the last thing my father had ever said to me on the night that he’d died—the video recording from Temple Industries. I’d read his lips.
Dynasty is not destiny.
It had infuriated me, making me think that he had been alluding to my forced role as CEO of Temple Industries—which had been brief and incendiary, just like I’d warned him.
Because my dad had said that stupid little phrase every morning while shaving in the mirror—like a good little corporate automaton. It was his self-motivational go-to.
“Were you going to share with the class?” Alucard asked, and I realized I hadn’t spoken. Instead of telling them the snippet from the recording, I decided to share the whole quote. A quote I’d often found scribbled on various slips of paper on my dad’s desk—right alongside his second favorite quote.
I’d never once heard him say the whole quote out loud—which I’d found rather strange. Not even w
hen I had asked him about the full quote after seeing it on his notepad. Like he considered it blasphemy to do so.
Because he’d had no problem saying his second favorite quote out loud.
I cleared my throat, glancing at my friends. “We flip our glass to ancestors past. Dynasty is not destiny. Nobility is not class.” My words echoed in the vast mausoleum. “You mentioned nobility,” I explained. “It reminded me of that quote.”
War was frowning. “Who wrote it?” he asked.
I shrugged. “One of our ancestors. My dad never told me which one,” I admitted with a slight frown.
War reached down to the Hourglass and flipped it over, staring at it curiously.
I furrowed my brows and blinked at him. “What are you doing?”
He turned away from the artifact to look up at me. “You said your father gave you this,” he explained as if I was daft.
I slowly nodded. “And? We already passed that point of the conversation.” I eyed my liquor bottle with a frown. “Have you been sneaking sips or something?”
He looked at me very strangely, even turning to Alucard as if to ask for some support. Alucard held up his hands in a don’t ask me gesture. “No, I haven’t been drinking,” War muttered. “I was wondering—other than the obvious reasons—why you would flip this. It doesn’t fit the theme of your father’s quote. I assumed it was a riddle.”
Not having the faintest idea what he was talking about, I mentally reread the quote. And then I finally understood what he was getting at.
“Our glass,” I said, clearly enunciating my words, “not Hourglass—” I stiffened, finally hearing how similar it sounded when spoken out loud. I’d always seen it written down. The only part that my father had ever said out loud was dynasty is not destiny.
But audibly…
Hourglass, not our glass…
No way.
But nothing had happened when War flipped over the Hourglass like the quote suggested. War now had his eyeball pressed up against the glass as if trying to peer inside for a secret message.
I dismissed his primitive approach, and instead wracked my brain, trying to find a new path to explore. Anubis had once told me that the artifact was a Key…but a key to what lock?
I repeated the quote in my head, breaking it down. It didn’t take me long until I was suddenly staring at the family tree.
“Ancestors past…” I murmured.
I turned towards War to find that he had suddenly stiffened, slowly pulling the Hourglass away from his eye with a frown. Then he lifted it to his nose and sniffed it.
I stared at him, frowning. “What the hell are you doing?”
He looked at me with a very somber expression on his face, carefully holding it out to me with one hand. I took it, unable to break eye contact with him.
Because War looked shaken to the core.
“That isn’t sand, Nate,” he said pointing at the powder within the Hourglass. “That is bone dust. And it smells like you…and them,” he rasped, gesturing vaguely at all the statues filling the mausoleum.
My eyes widened in disbelief. “What?”
He nodded. “Trust me. I know bone dust.”
“That…is really fucked up,” Alucard murmured. “Bone dust is fucking dangerous. Even voodoo priests are wary of it. And you’re saying it smells like all of them?” he hissed, his shoulders tightening.
War nodded firmly. “I would bet my Mask on it. Don’t ask me how. Maybe it’s their ancestry that I’m smelling.”
I stared down at the Hourglass as if it were a venomous snake, wondering what to do with War’s new information. Finally, I stood to my feet and waded up to the wall. As I drew closer, the three vines beneath the surface began to glow with blue light.
“Holy shit,” Alucard hissed.
I took a deep breath and flipped the Hourglass, tensing my legs in preparation for anything.
A previously nonexistent hatch flipped open on the uppermost base of the Hourglass, exposing the bone dust to the air, and I felt my heart suddenly racing for multiple reasons.
Alucard’s warning about the dangers of bone dust…
And because I remembered the second quote my dad had always written in tandem with the unspoken one. The quote he’d had no problem saying out loud.
Maybe I needed to say both of them out loud—like a prayer.
Was my dad really one of those guys who had written his password down and left it on his desk where anyone could find it? Othello would be appalled.
I cleared my throat and stared at my family tree—at my ancestors. “We flip our glass to ancestors past. Dynasty is not destiny. Nobility is not class.”
Every gem on the wall began to glow with an inner light, pulsing in sync like a single beating heart.
I took a careful, steady breath—not wanting to accidentally become a cannibal by snorting my ancestors’ remains—and then I poured some of the bone dust into my palm. The tiny hatch abruptly snapped shut as if rationing my dosage.
“I will show you fear in a handful of dust…” I whispered—the second quote from my dad’s notepads.
And then I sprinkled the bone dust into the water.
The gems on the wall suddenly flared brighter, and my vision wobbled as a sound like a struck tuning fork the size of a car filled the halls of the Temple Mausoleum. Even my teeth vibrated at the intensity of it, forcing me to clench my jaw.
Then I felt a deep thump in my chest, and the goddamned floor of the pool dropped out beneath me, flushing me down the world’s darkest, scariest, water slide.
I wanted to scream—but I didn’t dare open my mouth for fear of ingesting any of the bone dust in the water.
Chapter 28
I splashed into a deep pool of water, still protectively clutching the Hourglass to my chest to keep it safe. I hadn’t wanted to risk breaking it on my ride down the slide.
I breached the surface and stared incredulously at my surroundings, treading water with my free hand. Flickering, blue-flamed torches set into the walls illuminated a vast, red-stone cavern. I heard Alucard and War shouting at me from up above, so I glanced back at the slide to see—
“Motherfucker,” I cursed.
A wide flight of stairs ran parallel to the slide, climbing all the way up to an opening in the ceiling that was obviously my mausoleum, because Alucard and War were running down them as fast as they could manage.
“Goddamned slide,” I muttered as I swam my way over to the edge of the pool. I set the Hourglass down first, and was hoisting myself out when War grabbed me firmly under my arms and simply pulled me to my feet, showing off his ridiculous strength.
He stared at me, patting my shoulders to make sure I was alright.
“I’m fine,” I told him. “I may or may not have peed in the pool, though,” I admitted, bending down to scoop up the Hourglass and shove it into my— “Damn it! My satchel is still up there—”
Alucard slapped the satchel against my chest, not even looking at me. “I grabbed it. In case there was treasure down here,” he admitted shamelessly. “They always forget to take a bag with them in the movies. Rookies.”
I chuckled at his expectations for treasure as I shoved the Hourglass into my satchel and settled the strap over my shoulder and across my chest. Then I finally took a real gander at my Batcave.
“What is this place?” Alucard breathed, shaking his head in disbelief.
For some strange reason, an endless supply of water still poured down the slide from the mausoleum above, and it had already begun to overfill the landing pool, causing it to spill out into a wide channel that continued down the center of a tunnel of stygian darkness. But beyond that I could see dim gray sky—the entrance to the cavern.
I estimated it was a little over fifty yards away.
I took a few steps closer to get a better look at the new stream, but I instantly froze as more blue torches suddenly flared to life on either side of me, pushing the darkness further back. A resounding clang made me jump
, expecting a wall of spikes to spear me to death.
But instead of instant death, two new streams of fresh water suddenly burst from the walls—one on each side of me—as if an unseen dam had been lowered. The new streams merged with the center channel, tripling its force and size.
I sucked in a breath to suddenly notice that a statue was pressed up against the left wall of the tunnel, and it was straddling the new stream. A quick glance showed me the same thing on my right—the streams of water flowing directly out from beneath the hauntingly familiar statues.
“It’s just like the mausoleum,” Alucard grunted, pointing overhead to the twenty-foot ceiling.
He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t entirely correct. These statues were very different from the ones above. Although they still portrayed couples in powerful, triumphant poses, these looked savage and sinister. The crisp blue light definitely didn’t make them look friendlier.
I stepped closer, studying the statue on my left. It depicted an armored man and woman screaming as they crouched atop a pile of bones, their empty palms held out as if hurling magic at unseen foes. Wizards. Battle wizards, judging by the lack of physical weapons.
“Now I understand,” War said excitedly, stepping up beside me to stare at the statue with an awed expression on his face. “I knew I sensed warriors here, but every single statue above was a celebration of the mind, representing their more…civilized accomplishments. Their public face, you could say.” He pointed at the statue before us, his excitement growing. “But these are their warrior sides. How they became the men and women we saw above,” he explained, pointing at the woman’s jubilant, screaming face. “This shows them as soldiers—before they ascended to scholars,” he said, shifting his finger to point at the mausoleum above.
I nodded woodenly. “As above, so below,” I said absently. “This is Florence and Malachi Temple,” I told him, recognizing them from the mausoleum. Up there, they’d been holding books and smiling at one another.
Ascension: Nate Temple Series Book 13 Page 17
