Gene of Isis (50 page)

When Susan did as instructed, Mr Devere protested. ‘Don’t listen to him, do it!’

Although Susan appeared regretful, she shook her head and backed up to the entrance.

‘She cannot disobey me,’ Molier informed us. ‘Lady Devere and I have an understanding.’

Susan raised her pistol and aimed it at my husband.

‘Hypnosis,’ guessed the man who had threatened Lord Hamilton, who I later learned went by the name of Lord Malory.

Molier gave a chuckle of confirmation. He must have hypnotised Susan during her kidnapping.

‘Release my wife, demon!’ Lord Devere withdrew his sword from the dead man at his feet, of a mind to finish the creature himself.

‘Ah. We wouldn’t want your wife held responsible for killing your brother now, would we?’

Lord Devere halted, frustrated by the threat, when a hand clamped around his foot and pulled him to the ground. He turned to find his adversary clawing his way toward his throat; the creature may no longer have had use of its legs, but it still
harnessed great strength in its upper body. Cingar and Lord Malory found they had the same problem on their hands.

‘Now,’ Molier turned back to face me, ‘give me the keys or your best friend
will
kill your husband.’

My eyes narrowed in challenge, as I saw how my response would unfold. With a thought, I flipped the lever, unleashing a river of liquid into each of the canals; I recognised the smell of the substance at once. The sound of the lever being activated distracted Susan and provided my dear Devere the opportunity to overpower her. With a satisfied grin in Molier’s direction, I casually kicked the idle torch into the closest canal and the liquid immediately ignited into flame. ‘This
woman
will be the end of you, Molier.’ I focused on his form and levitated him into the air.

The creature was panicked as he witnessed his fellow vampires being cast to the flames by my allies, where they perished beyond salvation, changing into several animals before they burned to cinders.

‘The goddess can go to hell, the like of which she condemned me to!’ Molier spat, shattering into a white mist, which, although I cast it to the flame, would not burn.

My body was crumpling under the duress of the concentration it took to contain the evil being and I fell to my knees for more stability. Albray could feel the vitality being sucked from my life force and he rushed to kneel at my side.
Let him go, before he kills you. There will be other days.

But your freedom and Lillet’s?
I strained, feeling my internal organs were going to burst.

Think about your son.

The pressure on his poor little being must have been enormous! With a deep exhalation of defeat, I let Molier go and the mist whipped out the exit and was gone.

Exhausted, I gasped for air to fill my pressured lungs. ‘I’m so sorry,’ I uttered aside to my knight. ‘I failed you.’

On the contrary, you can now accomplish exactly what we came here to do,
Albray assured me.

‘Ashlee!’ My husband fell on his knees before me and embraced me for dear life. ‘I’ll never make you compromise your purpose again,’ he swore.

‘You won’t ever have to.’ I hugged him back. ‘My adventuring days are over.’

‘The storm is upon us!’ one of Malory’s men yelled down from the entrance.

I dragged myself from Devere’s kiss and stood. ‘Get out! Quickly!’ I urged everyone, as I ran between the flaming canals toward the pillars of red.

All my companions raced for the entrance, but when I returned from replacing the Fire vial in its annexe, Devere was still present.

‘Leave.’ I gave him a shove in the right direction as I raced past him on my way to the white-pillared annexe.

‘I am never leaving you again,’ he called after me defiantly. ‘That is a fate worse than death.’

His words tore at my heart, for I knew the pain he spoke of all too well.

Hurry, woman!
Albray urged me on.

With no time to be sentimental about it, I placed the Star vial in its shrine, did an about-face and sprinted back to Devere, who awaited me beneath the golden dome.

His hand in mine, we raced toward the entrance passage, the deafening sound of buckling metal spurring us faster up the polished red incline. My body wanted to collapse so badly, and yet fear for my life ensured that I kept up my pace. Only a few paces short of escape the entrance shrouded in darkness and, with a mighty metal clap, Devere and I encountered a solid barrier. We were trapped!

‘No,’ I cried, bashing both my fists against the super-strong obstruction. The Star vial was now trapped inside with us, where its contents could not open the door. ‘Dear goddess, don’t let this be how it ends!’ I looked in Devere’s direction. I could not see him in the dim light, but I could hear him panting, as weary as I was. ‘You should have fled.’

‘My place is with you.’ His hand searched through the darkness until it found mine and squeezed it tight. ‘Come on.’ He urged me to follow him back down into the chamber. ‘If we don’t drain those canals below, we will suffocate all the faster.’

‘I’ve sealed the fate of our entire family…you, me, our son!’ I mumbled.

‘You know it’s a boy?’ my husband asked, still managing to maintain some cheer and pride.

‘Albray told me. Where is Albray?’ I wondered if he might have some bright idea for our release. I called for him, and for the first time ever, he did not respond to my summons. ‘Maybe he feels guilty?’ I couldn’t explain it. ‘Don’t abandon me now, old friend,’ I appealed, to no avail.

Devere flipped the lever and immediately the flames began to die down, as the fluid drained from the canals. ‘There are a few ways we might avoid ending our days in this place,’ he said confidently. ‘Firstly, you could try moving through the gateway,
just as you did with the door in Molier’s office. If you take the Star vial with you, then you can dispense with the door and let me out.’

‘But without the sun to warm the particles we might have to wait days! Ah, but if you consume the Fire-Stone, you would survive!’ I breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Or better still, you may be able to pass through the gateway with me.’

‘We’ll cross that bridge when, and if, we come to it,’ Devere suggested. ‘If you are unable to penetrate the gateway, I doubt very much that I shall be able to. The Fire-Stone should be revered, and I shall only take it if my life depends on it.’

I was a little surprised that someone of the brotherhood would not be jumping at the chance to take the immortality-boosting substance, and this must have reflected in my expression.

‘I am not a pharaoh or a king,’ my husband explained. ‘I would not assume to abuse the treasure of the goddess as Molier has done…it certainly hasn’t done him any favours.’

‘But you are of the blood.’ I pointed out the obvious difference in their circumstances.

‘All the more reason for me to show respect and restraint,’ he argued winningly, before turning back to plan A. ‘However, if we remove the Star vial to attempt this, we are going to have to flood these pits again and set them ablaze, which is going to drain the oxygen supply. We’ll have to move quickly.’

‘By why must we set them alight?’ I queried, curious.

‘You obviously never read about this chamber in Lord Hereford’s journal,’ he teased. ‘I have. And trust me, we need to light the canals.’

With the Star vial in my hand and the chamber again ablaze, I stood before the gate and focused my will upon it. I called upon my foremothers to assist my intent, but after what seemed like an eternity, the cold barrier remained firm beneath my fingers. ‘Perhaps my battle with Molier has drained my psychic reserves?’

I had suspected that our escape would not be so easy. The material from which this temple was constructed seemed to be no ordinary metal compound. It was atomically linked to the Highward Fire-Stone, and clearly it would not be as easily penetrated as other substances known to mankind. Molier, in hundreds of years, had not managed to penetrate the barrier. I had hoped that being of the blood would make all the difference, but obviously not. I had already taken an excessive amount of the Highward Fire-Stone today, more than sufficient to achieve this task, so there seemed little point in taking any more. I also feared being so drawn to the celestial joys the substance induced that I might abandon my body altogether—Devere and our child needed me here right now.

‘Do you think this is the stuff that the prison cells for gods are made of?’ Devere attempted to make light of my failure, then descended the pathway to slip the lever to drain the canals once more.

I considered his jest not entirely unlikely. ‘I guess the gods needed to create some manner of containment for any renegades of their own kind—’

‘And the like of Molier,’ Devere coughed, as he tripped the lever.

‘And us, by the look of it.’ I wandered back down to the chamber. It reeked strongly of burnt chemicals that were abrasive on the throat when breathed in with the stale air.

The Highward Fire-Stone in my system didn’t prevent me feeling like I was going to choke, nor did it spare me from the need to breathe. I was not immortal; just more resilient than most mortals. I had an awful suspicion that once the air ran out, we would endure a constant state of suffocation—taking the contents of the vials would only keep death at bay. To accompany this agony I would endure a constant state of hunger and thirst.
Molier must have a will stronger than these walls to have survived six hundred years of such misery and torture.
This was not how I planned to raise my child.

‘There is one hope left.’ Devere took my hands in his, as the light in the chamber faded to the illumination provided by one torch, which was stuck in a wall mount by the entrance. ‘Lord Hereford speaks of a stash of the Star substance that he found inside the ruins of Hathor above us…with any luck my brother or Lord Malory will read the journal and find the key to getting us out of here.’

I was dubious of Lord Malory. ‘Did you tell your Grand Master about my pregnancy?’

‘I did not,’ he replied, pretending to be insulted. ‘I actually thought that your father should be the first to know.’

‘Oh.’ The thought of my father’s joy made me gasp and then cough. ‘How happy he will be at the news of a male heir to his estate!’

‘Lord Granville is not well, or so Malory informs me…that was part of the reason he sought you out.’ Devere knew the news was ill timed.

‘No! Father cannot die before he knows,’ I protested, knowing that a grandson was his dearest wish. I walked away from Devere to scold myself. ‘I should have returned to England when you asked me to.’ I turned back to Devere. ‘I was wrong, Earnest, and I’m sorry I did not figure that out before everyone had to suffer.’

My husband shook his head. ‘It’s not like you to give up so easily…I feel sure that in the end, your decision will be vindicated.’ He held his arms wide.

I obliged the invitation and as I embraced my husband for his love and my regret, I gripped tightly to the stone in the palm of my hand.
Where are you, Albray?

Outside the gateway of the temple we were confronted by an ambush. Lord Malory’s knights had been surrounded by Arabs clothed entirely in black, right down to their fine mounts—even with our guides and camel herders we were outnumbered four to one.

Our shock of capture was quickly overcome when, with the sound of crashing metal behind us, we realised that Mr Devere and Ashlee had not made it out of the temple, but had been trapped inside.

My husband wasted no time in recruiting Cingar to speak with the Arabs. ‘Ask them what they want from us.’

Cingar shouted the question over the blustery winds of the sandstorm and the leader of the band furnished the gypsy with an answer. ‘They want us to leave with them,’ he conveyed.

‘Tell them we cannot leave. Two of our party have been trapped in the mount,’ Lord Devere instructed. ‘Do they know how we might get them out?’

Cingar obliged and then translated the reply. ‘He said he cannot help those whom the mountain has chosen to claim.’

We tried to debate the matter further, but the Arabs would not discuss it. Our party and camels were rounded up and escorted down the mount, where we were shown into some caves to wait out the storm. The caves were not natural formations, but the remains of mining operations undertaken by the ancients.

I had hours to sit there and ponder how my failure to pull the lever on cue had delayed the proceedings in the temple. If not for me, we would all have made it out of the temple before the storm arrived.

‘We are going to get them out.’ Lord Devere urged me not to blame myself.

I had already suggested that Lord Hamilton’s journal might hold some answers, but our captors were not letting us anywhere near our possessions, not even when we had Cingar tell them that we were only wanting to retrieve a book.

‘I’m surprised we are still alive.’ Cingar noted that the Arab band were all hardened warriors.

‘I suspect that these men are not your average desert bandits,’ Malory advised us all in a whisper. ‘I believe these men are warrior-priests, belonging to the ancient brotherhood of the Melchi.’

‘The Melchi,’ Cingar echoed in disbelief. ‘Surely that order couldn’t have survived since the time of the Crusades?’

‘Why not?’ Lord Malory shrugged. ‘Ours has.’

‘And just how does this help us?’ Lord Devere wondered, more concerned about freeing his kin than receiving a history lesson.

‘Have you forgotten that you are related to the brave knight who originally trapped Molier?’ Malory said, and Lord Devere’s frown only deepened.

‘Yes, but he was one of Sion’s great knights, I doubt—’

‘No…’ Malory said, with a good serve of intrigue in his voice. ‘That was only Albray Devere’s alias. He was really one of theirs.’ Malory rolled his eyes toward the black warriors. ‘To them he was Albe-Ra, the Shining One.’

We feared some of our captors understood our conversation when several of them approached to pull us to our feet.

‘What is happening?’ Lord Devere looked at Cingar, unable to fathom the foreign chatter.