The Centaur (29 page)

The blue light preceded him, keeping a few feet ahead of him, slightly above eye level, illuminating the rubble-strewn floor, dispelling most of the gloom and furnishing a bit of comfort in the process. The elevator leading down to the shelters was destroyed, choked with more wires, twisted stainless steel sheeting and broken glass. He found the door to the stairs and forced it open wide enough to get inside.

Here he found the rats.

Hundreds of them seemingly frozen in confusion by the appearance of the blue glow. He drew a deep breath before stepping into the midst of the gray and black horde, shoving them aside with his boots and the tip of the golden sword. One of them snapped at his heel and he stomped its head. The noise was both disgusting and satisfying at the same time, but the action set up a general stampede filled with frantic squeals, closely followed by his own involuntary shouts as the rats broke in every direction, some of them even trying to climb his legs. If anyone was anywhere nearby, he had surely given himself away. When the rats dispersed and his heart rate returned to normal, he resumed his journey into the depths of the underground maze of storage rooms, maintenance access ways and other rooms of unknown purpose. He stopped long enough to inspect the room in which Lucio’s golden coffin had been stored and found it empty. His boots echoed loudly in the room and he wished
fervently that the Italian was there with him now, regretting his decision to leave him behind. The next stop was the laboratory.

The lab was surprisingly intact. A thin layer of white chalky substance covered everything, but there was nothing of interest or use here. He moved down the stairs quickly, seeking the lower levels were the private cells might be located.  It was common knowledge political prisoners had often been kept on the third level below the palace at varying times in the past. The fact Jozsef Daniel had kept Sophia and her charge on the third floor of the palace had been surprising. It was a wonder they had not been kept underground. Their escape might have been impossible had it been so, but Jozsef had apparently underestimated Bari and Nicole. Certainly he had never expected them to team up and perpetrate a jail break.

On the third level he found the lighting flickering, but still relatively intact. Poor Selwig seemed to be the only living creature other than vermin in the entire complex.  When he opened the door, the Tuathan met him at the door with an excited hug. The little fellow was beside himself and with good reason. He’d had no water, no food and no outside communication since the last of the palace guards had abandoned the Queen Mother.

“Shhh, little one,” Mark Andrew pushed him away and looked about the barren cell. “Has Abaddon been to see you?”

“Yes, several times,” Selwig answered and clutched his yellow bag to his chest. His green eyes were round with fear. “He said he would come for me soon, but soon seems to be a very long time. What has happened? Where is he? Where is the Quee…?”

“Shhh!” Mark put his finger to his lips. “You must stay here a bit longer. If something is amiss, I’ll be back for you within the hour. If things go awry, make your way up and out the best way you can and be careful of the rubbish for pity’s sake.”

Mark sat on the cold metal shelf that passed for a bed and unbuttoned one of his numerous pockets. He pulled out a flat bottle of water and a small packet of elven bread.

“It isn’t much, but you will be out of here soon,” Mark assured him. “I promise.”

Selwig took the water and sipped it carefully. He unwrapped the elven bread and closed his eyes as he smelled of it.

“Ahhh. Heaven,” was his only comment before he tore into it.

“And here…” Mark gave him a small piece of white crystal. “Use this sparingly. It will light your way.”

Selwig took the crystal in his palm and it gave off a soft glow. He tucked it in his bag and followed Mark to the door, munching on the bread.

“Where are you going now?” He whispered.

“I’m going to check on things below. I need to know if Abaddon has been found out or if we are still on track. He missed his last rendezvous with me. If he has
failed, I will be back for you immediately. If not, be prepared to carry out your mission.”

“I am prepared, Master, but I cannot help but shudder at the thought of…” Selwig stopped and pressed one hand over his mouth.

“I know that you do not want to touch her, my friend,” Mark placed one hand on his shoulder. “But remember, she must be stopped. She will expect you to be frightened. Your repulsion will be taken for fear and will work in your favor. I would not ask you to do this if it was not necessary.”

“I would do anything for you, Master. You may rely on me.” Selwig stood up straighter. “All that I ask is that you would not make it generally known that I laid hands on her. My reputation has improved greatly and I would not want to be tainted again.”

“You may count on my silence,” Mark kissed the Tuathan on both cheeks and took his leave, regretfully locking the door again. His heart was hurt at the thought of leaving the healer in the thick darkness as his thoughts strayed again to the rats.

The main part of the underground shelter was another three stories down. He hurried down the stairs until he reached the seventh level and then crept more slowly down the steps, extinguishing the blue light before opening the heavy door. A rush of cool air struck his face, a great deal fresher than the air on the levels above. He could hear the soft sound of air-conditioning and there were emergency lights still glowing along the floor of the corridor. The Knight held the hilt of his sword and walked soundlessly down the hall. He was eight floors below the palace and could almost feel the tremendous weight of the earth above him in the low-ceilinged passageway. The white powder precipitated from the ceiling tiles by the constant bombardment, covered everything uniformly except for several sets of footsteps laid down at different times. He followed these to the end of the corridor and then turned left.

He was stopped short by the sight of dried bloodstains on the floor and walls outside one of the doors. Someone had suffered some nasty wounds here. He stepped over the gore and followed the latest footprints to a door further on. He stopped in front of it and listened intently.  He could hear muffled voices beyond. Although it was heavily reinforced, the damage caused by the besieging forces had sufficiently degraded the integrity of the lower levels to the extent that the doors no longer fit snugly in the frames. It could not be sealed properly. There was a small crack through which the sounds came. A woman’s voice and a man’s voice… he recognized both of them.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

Mark hummed an old tune as he set about dragging the old alchemical equipment from under the counter in the laboratory. He was truly unconcerned with the fate of the rest of the world. The world had never really treated him very well and he had tried so many times and sacrificed so very much to it’s welfare. Why? That was the question he knew he could never answer and this second personality now sharing his thoughts and his body was so very different from himself. Naïve, innocent, barely more coherent than a twelve-year-old boy, though noble of heart and pure of thought, word and deed, like a faery tale knight in shining armor.

Sophia had been this one’s princess and the child… his holy grail. A grail knight. Something he had never aspired to be, he’d felt very guilty suppressing the personality, but he had no intention of harming him or changing him. When he had thoroughly examined the personality, he had categorized, cataloged and contained him, part and parcel in the recesses of his mind, preserving him wholly intact and God willing, when the day arrived for him to take his leave, he planned to return the body to its rightful owner for good. His only real material worry was the thought he might somehow damage the body.

In his mind, he knew Mark Ramsay and Luke Ramsay were his sons and he also knew he had sorely abused Mark from the very beginning. Where he had never had a guilty thought about it before, he now had great feelings of regret and sorrow for what he had done. But he reasoned it was only natural to have developed a guilt complex at so late a date. After all, he’d never really gotten to know the boy until now and he was shaping up to be fine son. Just like Luke Matthew. Just like Luke Andrew. Fine sons. And who could forget Adalune? And his semi-son, Ian. And God forbid… Il Dolce Mio! Where in the world had he gotten such a name? It smacked of Lucio Dambretti. He’d not had the pleasure of meeting the elf King… yet, but he would soon remedy that.

He was brought back from his mental musings when Sophia knocked on the door and then entered the dusty laboratory. Another wave of guilt assaulted him. His daughter-in-law and what had he done? The same thing he had always done when too much temptation came upon him in weakened states. Surely God would not hold him accountable for that one, but Sophia expected him to love her and she would never know. At least, not if he could help it. She would have this child, grow old and most likely die before he was able to release the body to Mark. Life was hard. It always had been.

“Mark? Why are you still down here? You missed supper,” Sophia pulled a stool close to the counter and climbed onto it.

“Oh, really?” He tried to act surprised. He did not want her to get suspicious. “I’m sorry, Sophia. Why didn’t you call me?”

“I did.”

“Oh. I guess I didn’t hear you.”

“I guess not.”

Sophia watched as he clunked one of the strange looking ovens on the counter and began to wipe it with his shirt.

“Mark.”

“Yes?”

“Remember what I told you about using your shirts as cleaning rags?” She hooked one finger in the shirt he was not wearing and pulled it from his hands. “And remember what Sophia told you about running around half naked in cold weather?”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” he nodded and looked around the lab for something else to use.

“Here. Put your shirt back on and come upstairs. I kept your plate hot for you and after you eat, you can come back down here. I’ll find some cleaning supplies for you. OK?”

“Sure. OK.”

Mark pulled the dusty shirt over his head and smiled what he considered a rather idiotic smile at her.

“That’s better.” She slid from the stool and stood on tiptoe to kiss his nose.

“Good. Go on up, and I’ll be there in just a moment. I want to get all these out, and when I come back, I can just start cleaning them. OK?”

“OK. Five minutes. No more.”

Mark watched as she left the lab and then shook his head. It was going to be hard playing the role for a few more weeks until he could begin to update himself in her eyes. Sophia was a sweet girl. She actually reminded him of Meredith and Elizabeth combined. He dragged another two ovens out and several empty bottles and flasks. The ovens were in good shape and the rest of the equipment seemed to be intact under the dust and spider webs. Again, he wondered at Mark’s ingenuity and courage. Taking the golden sword from the power of Marduk was not an easy task and, again, guilt assuaged him momentarily. Mark had worked so hard to call up the powers and take from them the things he wanted, only to lose them again so quickly, but it would not be unending. It would all be temporary. Just temporary.

His five minutes were up and he didn’t want Sophia aggravated with him. He turned around and took three steps toward the door before being thrown violently backwards by an unseen force. His back struck the cabinet. The stool went flying and several glass containers shattered on the floor at his feet while he tried to regain his balance. He could see nothing in front of him, nothing that could have slammed him backwards, but it had not been his imagination. He started forward more slowly and the heavy door, which Sophia had left standing open, creaked closed of its own accord. He stopped. There was definitely something in the room with him. Not a ghost. He had seen enough of them to recognize their telltale signs. Not a demon. He knew well the smell that accompanied all the creatures of the Abyss. Brimstone and sulfur.

He put out one hand carefully in front of him.

“Stop.” The one word command was thin and wavering and then he could see a shimmer of green in front of him. The light from the candles and lanterns almost made the specter invisible.

“What do you want?” He asked. “How did you get into my house?”

“Your house?” The voice came from nowhere, unsure, hesitant. “What have you done with the Dove?”

“The dove?” Mark raised both eyebrows.

“You are not the Dove.” This comment came from the right, deeper, more sure of itself and distinctly female. “Where is the Dove?”

“How many are you?” Mark answered their questions with another question.

“We are one.” Both voices answered him in unison.

“Ahhh.” Mark frowned. Where had he seen this sort of thing before? Long ago. Long ago. We are one. We are one. “But one and one make three,” he tried a riddle on them. A small one.

“That is the law,” they answered. “What do you know of the Law?”

“I know when one acts upon another, the result produces a third thing. One and one make three.”

“You do know the Law,” the quivery voice answered. “It is so with my sister and myself. We are separate and yet we are part of one whole.”

“I see,” Mark nodded. Angels. Primitive angels. It was impossible to know if they were Divine Creatures or something a bit less divine. Possibly something from the lower orders. “Who is the Dove?”