Echoes Through the Vatican: A Paranormal Mystery (The Echoes Quartet Book 2)

Copyright © 2014 Roxann K. Brooks
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior permission in writing of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Published by Penman House Publishing

e-book formatting by
bookow.com

In Memoriam
A friend to us all on Saturday afternoons.
Tom Magliozzi, better known as the elder half of the "Tappet brothers" of NPR's Car Talk, brought enlightenment, enjoyment and loads of laughs to millions.
You will live as long as we remember and few of us will forget.
Rest in peace, old friend.
KFR

The mechanical process of writing is, for many, a solitary undertaking. Armed with the knowledge of your craft, you must confront the daunting blank piece of paper alone.
However, the creative development that comes before and after are, for me, loaded with some of the most important people I know.
There are those who supply a word, a phrase, a gesture at exactly the right moment. There are some who are perfect sounding boards. Some provide and some inspire, some motivate, some encourage and some can be depended on to deliver a swift kick.
Christopher Clarke has helped immeasurably in ways he could never imagine and he can imagine a lot.
Aaron Aalborg*, Michael Crump* and Kelly Danforth, fellow authors and friends, have provided insight no one else could or would. The entire Penman House Publishing* crew has stayed the course from first to last on this project.
Alexandre Rito* has, once again, proved when it comes to cover design, he is a mind reader. He was able to take insane ramblings and turn them into art.
Steve Passiouras at Bookow*, only knows how to do things the right way. He's worked his magic again.
Courtney Harrington, a beta reader without peer, can't be thanked enough. Her careful reading provided insights that couldn't be found elsewhere.
Justin Ray gets a special note of appreciation. Without his assistance, those things that needed doing wouldn't have gotten done. His minions miss him.
A debt of gratitude is owed to the indomitable Roxann. She made this book happen by doing the heavy lifting when I couldn't. She believed when I didn't. She heard the echoes, long before anyone else.
Links
Aaron Aalborg, author of:
They Deserved It
Revolution
Terminated
Michael Crump, author of:
Candyman's War
www.stillpointfiction.com
Penman House Publishing
penman-house-publishing.blogspot.com.tr
Alexandre Rito
www.designbookcover.pt
[email protected]
Bookow
www.bookow.com
[email protected]

Disclaimer
This is a work of fiction and not a factual account of any actual events. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

He was pushed roughly into a chair and the hood removed from his head. Julian Blessing sat separated from his host by a large, heavily carved, mahogany desk. His eyes adjusted from the total darkness of the hood to the soft, pale yellow, subdued lighting in the room. Night had gathered outside. Julian’s nostrils flared as he took in the faint smell of incense that floated on the light currents of breeze. A fire murmured in a fireplace.

The large man, who brought Julian to this place, stood in respectful silence. On the desk, a clock provided counterpoint to the silence.

Julian’s host sat studying a leather portfolio on his desk; a pen was poised in his right hand. He read the papers, nodded once and signed. The man straightened in his chair, looked past Julian, and a young priest silently rushed forward, accepted the portfolio, turned quickly and left without looking either left or right. If he were ever asked, he could truthfully say he never laid eyes on the American, Julian Blessing.

His host sat back and openly studied Julian, then looked at the guard who nodded and left. The host’s cassock was black and simple. The drape of the garment, over his shoulders and down the sleeves, spoke of rich fabric and impeccable tailoring. Julian took all of this in, and more.

The scarlet piping, buttons, and wide sash were badges of political rank. The pectoral cross attested to his spiritual authority, but none of it hinted at the tremendous power Julian could feel emanating from this man.

“Mr. Blessing, thank you for coming.” The voice was relaxed, cultured, perfectly modulated and did not hint at the irony in what he said. The man’s Italian accent gave his English a lyrical quality and he spoke only slightly above a whisper.

“Are you enjoying your time in Rome? It is truly a remarkable city in so many ways, would you not agree? But look at me; I am a poor host it would seem. I am Antonio Cardinal Luciano, Archbishop of, well, that doesn’t matter I suppose.”

Julian considered for a moment, then said, “Indeed, it seems it is a remarkable city if one wants to be abducted.” He smiled an easy smile he did not feel. “I must say, I have never been kidnapped in a finer place. The Eternal City is remarkable if only for that.”

Cardinal Luciano appeared placid and his smile indulgent. The placidity and the smile never reached his eyes. Steel gray eyes without remorse or kindness looked at, and into, Julian.

For over a year, with the help of his teachers, Julian had been honing a paranormal ability to read people. Not their thoughts, but he could get a sense of them, feel them. It was a talent that had come in handy more than once.

He tried to read the cardinal, but the man was impenetrable. He had a wall around his thoughts and he had no intention of issuing Julian an invitation. The cardinal did smile more broadly and shake his head slowly at Julian’s attempts.

Julian said, “These are not my usual business hours, but there are always exceptions for princes of the Church. Why am I here, your Eminence?”

“I have been following your career, Mr. Blessing,” the cardinal said. “In New York, you had your first indications of your special talents. You left the reality you knew for one you had only glimpsed. That takes courage.

“At the behest of your mentor, Mrs. Bragonier, you traveled to Ireland. Your teachers there showed you what is real, and what is possible, and what can be accomplished with your gifts. With persistence, you learned your lessons well. That takes dedication.

“And that brings you to Rome and to me.” Cardinal Luciano thought for a moment and continued.

“I must say, with little training, your exploits in Ireland were impressive.” The cardinal’s voice turned hard and sinister. “You, however, are now on a much larger stage. The risks here are high and the consequences of failure are often fatal. The rewards are, of course,” the cardinal paused, “proportional.”

The older man stood and walked toward one of the towering windows. His slight limp was hardly noticeable.

The thick Persian carpet absorbed his footfalls. His words felt deep, slow and resonant in Julian’s mind. He was becoming accustomed to speaking without spoken words and hearing the thoughts projected by others.

“Mr. Blessing, you are here because you feel it. You have felt it your entire life even though you did not understand. Fortunately, there were those of us who took you in, nurtured you and continue to do so even now.

“There is something wrong in the world,”
the cardinal thought. “
That feeling is strong and getting stronger. It grows as it festers and feeds.

“The wool has been pulled over mankind’s eyes for a very long time. It is meant to blind man to the truth.”
Julian felt the cardinal’s words more powerfully than he had felt any before.

“You and I, and those like us, all hear the echoes. They are echoes from a different time with a different truth. The truth you and I know about the nature of reality is not a truth reserved for us alone. We use knowledge and talents that are available to everyone.”

“Your Eminence, I am…” Without turning from the window, the cardinal raised his hand and silenced his guest. The man’s heavy ecclesiastical ring glowed a dull gold in the failing light.

“As I am sure you know, people are easily led. It is something they want and need at a fundamental level. They need someone or something to blame, to be afraid of and to believe in.

“Although led to believe the exact opposite, mankind is limitless in its ability and capacity. However, taking hold of the potential, as those like us have done, presents a difficulty. In doing so, there would be no one to blame but one’s self for any and all failings.

“Because of this, man, individually and collectively, wants to be led even if he is wrongly led – even if he knows it is wrong. Still, being led is uncomplicated. The truth is very complicated, don’t you agree?”
It was a question that was not.

The cardinal gazed out the window at the dome of St. Peter’s Basilica, silhouetted by the last of the fading sunset. He turned, and with his forehead mirroring his concentration, returned to his desk.

The man thought, and Julian felt,
“Mankind has been enslaved for millennia. It was knowingly at first, but in time, as with many things, it became a habit and no further thought was given to the reason
.” The cardinal rounded his desk and sat. His smile was easy and relaxed and wasn’t a smile at all.

“This kind of slavery is not particularly unpleasant for most. It isn’t expensive because when one does not know the value of what one is giving up, there is no way to calculate the cost.”

“Let me guess,” Julian said aloud. “The solution to mankind’s ills is known only to you,” he stated with a boldness that was fast eroding. “Eminence, with all respect, unless you get some new material, you will soon become a cliché.”

The cardinal regarded Julian, smiled, and switching back to spoken words said, “Known only to me? Not at all, Mr. Blessing, you know it every bit as well as I do.

“We are tasked with helping to guide mankind. We are a lamp in the darkness. We attract many to us, but we shine a light for all. To date, our task has been to allow people to find their own way in the dark.

“Ours, however, is not some weak esoteric belief. We practice a sort of muscular ideology. We are sometimes called on to fight for the truths we hold, to die in some cases. Soldiers of reason, if you will,” the cardinal said.

“Soldiers of reason, Eminence?” Julian mused. “Poetic.”

The cardinal smiled, but glossed over the sarcasm and continued. “You were drawn to the tasks you perform now. You are compelled to follow a truer sense. Many have talents, but few wield talents such as yours and fewer still take to them so quickly or so thoroughly. Your use of them is still infantile, but you improve daily. You, of course, know all of these things,” the cardinal said.

“There are, however, things you do not yet understand, things your teachers have not taught you. You were told humanity is taken in by its own slavery. What they did not teach you is the situation is far more dire. There is a noose around mankind’s neck, Mr. Blessing. That noose is being tightened. What I know, and you do not, is who holds the other end of that rope.”

“Eminence, I’m sorry, but I really don’t know where you are going with this,” Julian said.

“I will speak plainly to you, Mr. Blessing.” Julian knew this would be anything but plain. “There are those who wish to wrest the end of that rope away and free mankind from slavery. A laudable cause, no?” the cardinal said and Julian inclined his head slightly. “But it cannot be done without people like you and me.

“Something you do not yet understand is the value of your talents or the value others would assign to them. In New York, you were a financier, a man who understands how fortunes are won and lost. But fortunes are nothing when compared to real wealth.

“Power, Mr. Blessing, is the only wealth worth having. There is a group that would freely give you that type of wealth for, what shall we say, a consideration? What is it Americans say? Yes, ‘Doing well by doing good’.”

The cardinal had traveled a circuitous path, but Julian recognized the point of the trip. “A consideration, Eminence?” Julian said. His lips held a cold, hard line.

“A consideration, Mr. Blessing. The members of the group, of which I speak, want you to join them to help knock off the shackles and to loosen the noose. The power that comes from leadership is yours in exchange for your loyalty and your assistance.”

“And this group,” Julian said. “What is its motivation? What’s in it for them?”

“That is a fair question and the answer an easy one - profit. It is the motivation for all commerce, all of life, no? Can you imagine all of mankind equipped as you and I are? The world would change very much for the better. The poorest of the poor economies would find parity with the richest of the rich. Productivity and innovation would soar. The change would be irrevocable and to the benefit of all.

“This group is poised to free mankind and to harvest the rewards proportionate to its investment,” the cardinal said. “It has been preparing the ground for a very long time and now is the time. Its risk has been enormous. Should not the return be enormous?”

“And our part in this, Eminence?”

“People like us have existed since time out of mind. Our mission has remained constant. As I said, we guide. Perhaps we have reached a point in human development where our mission needs to change, but only slightly. Rather than simply guide, we need to lead. We can propel society as a whole into a bright future, Mr. Blessing.

“Change is coming. You can feel it, hear it. The echoes you hear are echoes that have reverberated through the world for thousands of years. They are louder now, more resonant in our modern world,” the cardinal said.

“We stand at the epicenter of change. You can place yourself on the right side of that change or the wrong side. The choice, and the consequences of that choice, are yours entirely.”

Julian assessed the cardinal as he felt the man attempt to penetrate his thoughts. This interview wasn’t quite over. Julian could feel it, sense it.

“Oh, Mr. Blessing,” the cardinal said almost as an afterthought, a well rehearsed afterthought. Julian smiled slightly, but the smile faded quickly.

“You brought enemies from your life in the United States, no? One such enemy is here in Rome and so has come to my attention. I mention this only because I am concerned for your continued wellbeing and that of your dear friend, the lovely Dr. Dwyer. She is conveniently here in Rome on a hospital fellowship, no? How very nice for both of you. Love is a magnificent thing,” the cardinal said pleasantly.

“Dr. Dwyer.” Julian said the name without inflection. It was neither a question nor an answer.

The cardinal’s face turned somber, his tone was contemplative. “I know the doctor’s safety is always uppermost in your mind. I am only warning you. Your enemies may try to get to you through her.

“You and I have much in common,” the cardinal continued. “You scoff at this, I know, but do not judge hastily. The distance between you and me is measured in mere degrees. For now, what concerns you, concerns me. I shall warn you if I hear of any plots involving you or the doctor. Rome is a small village really. I hear everything sooner or later.”

The cardinal smiled pleasantly. “You have much to think about so I will delay you no further, Mr. Blessing. The man who brought you here will convey you back in safety. Rome can be a dangerous place as well as a delightful one. We will talk again and soon.”

The air went electric when Julian said in a whisper, “Eminence.” He drew the word out. “Your fault, my fault, nobody’s fault, everybody’s fault – if the doctor is harmed, the price will be very high. You do not know what I am capable of. I wish you a good evening. I will make my own way back to my hotel if that is all right with you.”

“Of course, I understand completely.” The cardinal’s smile looked to Julian like more of a snarl. “If you have no need of my driver,” the cardinal’s face went dark and his mouth twisted to an ugly slash before he said, “then neither do I.”

The scream that cut through the quiet was drenched in pain and pleading and terror. It seemed to come from every corner of the cardinal’s mansion at once. It echoed, clawed at the air, begged for mercy and then was gone.

Julian’s gaze never left the cardinal’s face. The man’s expression turned pleasant, but his eyes were gray and deathly cold, knowing and unknowable.

He smiled kindly and said, “You see, Mr. Blessing, I know what you are capable of. To a very high probability, I know what you will do, what you will not do and how far you will go.

“It is you who does not know what I am capable of doing.” The smile was gone as quickly as it appeared. The cardinal cocked an eyebrow. “We will speak again. Good night and go with God.”

Julian turned slowly to leave, but was arrested by the cardinal’s thought.
“Oh, Mr. Blessing, I write my own ‘material’, as you call, it and you needn’t fear. I don’t think I’ll be turning into a cliché anytime soon, do you?”