The Gateway Through Which They Came (27 page)

Nothing but bookshelves line the walls, but one section protrudes slightly more than the rest. I guide my hands gently along the wood, searching for proper leverage to pop the bookshelf farther out. With my ear pressed against it, I listen for voices or anything to give away what could be on the other side. Nothing but a slight hiss of a breeze makes itself known. I try again to latch my fingers around the wood, finding just enough room to swing the bookcase outward.

It’s heavier than I thought it would be. I put all my strength into it. As soon as it opens wide enough, the cold draft crushes into the room, tumbling over me like a gigantic wave. An open hole where a door should have been leads to a dark pit of stairs. The sun shining through the windows is my only source of light, guiding my eyes down a steep, stone staircase. I can only count the first five steps in front of me, as the light fades into the darkness below. The stone walls hold antique lanterns that look to have been used centuries before. Everything is covered with dust and grime, and the scent of rot pollutes my nostrils.

There’s no question this path will take me to the underground tunnels, the ones Koren told me about. I know I’m not prepared for what awaits me at the bottom, but will I ever be? For a moment, I consider waiting to tell Father Martin my discovery, but I know he would only forbid me from entering. I’d be a fool to believe he didn’t know about this place already.

I remove my phone and turn on the light. Taking one last deep breath of fresh air, I prepare myself for the descent. How the draft managed to push the hidden door open, I have no clue. It must be coming from somewhere deep within.
If anything
, I tell myself,
it could be Father Martin down here
. He’s been gone long enough, maybe something’s happened.

Each step takes me deeper into some kind of cavern. The only ventilation is provided by small holes along the wall. I peek through one and only find blackness. But the sound of something below trails its way to my ears, like whispers repeating a phrase too quickly for me to understand. To be sure, I look back toward the door to find it’s still open, in case I need a quick escape. If Father Martin isn’t the one down here, well, let’s hope he’ll find me alive.

It feels like the stairs go on forever. The air down here is cold and musky, not to mention the rotting smell that only gets thicker and more putrid the farther I go. Breathing is becoming harder, like the air itself is getting heavier. I’ve come so far now, turning back isn’t an option.

I wonder how far down this leads, but that thought leaves me as the voices grow louder. Only this time, their words are clear.

“He’s here. He’s here,” they chant.

They can’t be talking about me. Could they?

I take another step.

“He of whom the Dark Priest speaks has found us.”

“Let him come. He shall see.”

My nerves send my heart screaming with vicious beats. I hold my hand against my chest as if to muffle the sound. Shallow breaths escape from my mouth, working faster and faster to match the quickened pace of my pulse.

I quickly rethink the situation. This is stupid. What the hell am I doing?

“
He hears us,
” it says.

“
He’ll come, he’ll come. The Dark Priest said he would.
”

“Come down, young one. Let us see you,” the other voice calls.

Their voices carry in the air, disembodied chants begging for me to follow.

A part of me deep inside, the part infected by their power, wants to seek them out. I can feel the pull of my body, desperate to answer their pleas.

I tell myself: This isn’t you. You don’t want this.

But another part of me replies: This is where I’m meant to be.

An impulse pushes me down a step, but the Light inside of me forces me to turn back. I’m stronger than this
thing
. Nothing can make me become one of them. Not even the Dark Priest can break me.

I turn in a hurry to ascend the stairs, plowing into a massive body. The blow knocks me off-balance. A sudden realization hits me that I’m falling and it’s only a matter of seconds before I come face to face with the beings waiting below.

“Aiden!” Father Raimi’s hand catches my arm, yanking me forward. I fear that my fall will only take him down with me, but am surprised to find he’s a lot stronger than I give him credit for.

Everything is a complete blur. My brain feels like it got rocked off kilter. I don’t realize my feet are moving until the bright sunlit entrance emerges above me.

Father Raimi snaps, “What in God’s name are you doing down here? Are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Pain shoots up my arm from the hard grip he has on it.

“I… I was just curious.” I’m still a little woozy from the encounter. The echoes of the voices bounce and flail inside my head, until I force them out with a hard shake.

“Do you know what becomes of men who allow their curiosity to get the best of them? They stumble upon things they wish they hadn’t. Things like that can drive a man to madness.” His crushing grip releases when we’re through the door. Without effort, he slides the bookcase back in place.

I stumble through the room with my hand outstretched, searching for balance. The feel of the chair beneath my fingers grants me relief. In one heavy slump, I fall into the seat. A pounding headache ensues, and I’m sure my head is about to combust.

“You’re not going to tell Father Martin, are you?” The words sound differently in my head, because I’m certain I’m slurring. Why do I suddenly have the hangover of the century?

“Lucky for you, Father Martin isn’t here for me to tell. Nor do I feel the need to do so.” Father Raimi wipes down his black sleeves, removing the remnants of dust.

Father Martin’s still gone? It’s unlike him to be so tardy.

I press my fingertips between my brows, hoping that some sort of pressure point will release me from the excruciating pain.

“Thank you,” I say. “How did you know—?”

“I was looking for Father Martin. When he didn’t answer the door, I found it strange. So I let myself in. It’s a good thing I did. Who knows what sort of trouble you could have gotten yourself into?”

Father Raimi stands over me. I force my eyes to focus on his flushed face.

“I advise you to withhold telling Father Martin what you’ve experienced. Suspect you won’t feel well for the rest of the day.” He adjusts his collar before heading for the door.

“Wait!” The sudden burst of energy makes my head nearly split in two. I lower my voice to ease the pain, and ask, “What do you know about the voices?”

Father Raimi pauses at the door. “If you’re hearing their calls, you may need more help than Father Martin can provide.”

Our eyes connect with something unsaid passing between us. This is far greater than anything Father Martin could have suspected. And I don’t think I could bring him any further into this than I already have.

With a stern nod, Father Raimi leaves me with my thoughts.

It’s all the time I need to realize he might be my only chance.

y the time Father Martin arrives, the clock shows it’s well past noon.

“I’m sorry, Aiden. I trust you’ve managed to find something to pass the time.” He looks exhausted and worn, like someone who’s been working in the cold all day.

I’d just come back from the storage room when he greets me in the hall. My entire body aches from lifting the twelve-foot ladder from window to window. It wasn’t exactly the best chore to choose with the pounding inside my head, but I needed a distraction and it was all I could think of.

“You’ll be happy to know all the windows are clean,” I inform him. “I also polished the confession room and the first rows of pews. I’ll finish the rest tomorrow.”

He lightly claps a hand on my shoulder, pleased. “You’ve accomplished quite a bit for today.” Without an explanation of his absence, he enters his chambers. I don’t know whether to follow or leave. It’s almost time to meet Trevor anyhow.

I turn to exit but something stops me. I peek into his room where he rests in his leather chair.

“Father Martin?”

His voice is weak when he replies. “Yes, son?”

“Are you all right?”

“Hm?” He appears dazed, until he adds, “Oh! Just fine, just fine.”

I clear my throat. “I don’t mean to pry, Father, but… where were you?”

With his elbow rested on the arm of the chair, he places his head against his hand, lost in thought.

Sheepishly, I step into the room. “Father?”

He startles back, forgetting I’m there. “Oh, Aiden. Come in, come in. Pardon my mindlessness. Sit. Please.”

I don’t want to burden him any more than I have to, so I stay put.

“Do you want to talk about it?” I ask him.

He runs his fingers through the bristles of his unshaven beard. When Father Martin of all people forgets to shave, you know his mind is consumed entirely by worry. It’s a reminder that I’m not the only one threatened by what’s happening. This involves all of us. Everyone. Whether people know it or not. Darkness doesn’t spare anyone.

I’m close to turning away and leaving him be, until he speaks again.

“Perhaps you should know,” he finally says.

I lean against the doorframe, listening intently.

“Know what?”

Father Martin clears his throat. “I’ve been meeting with other members of the church. Of several churches, really. We can no longer ignore the darkness looming in the air. It’s a sign of what’s to come, and most important that we address it quickly.”

You might be too late
, I think to myself. It’s the last thing I want to tell him.

“Can’t you call for the others?” I say. “You know… the Men of Light and whatnot.” It comes out nonchalantly, as if calling upon them isn’t a huge deal or anything, when in fact, it is. Surely they know what’s happening. They must sense the shift in the air. That heaviness of Darkness looming around us. I would even if it weren’t happening right in front of me.

“Believe me, son, they know. It’s only a matter of time before the others arrive. If what I know is true, it’s times like these that bring them to this world. You may sense them now more than ever.”

“Are you saying more will be sent here? From…” How does someone finish that sentence?

“Yes,” he says with undeniable conviction. “Like us, they’re preparing.”

“For battle?” I can hardly accept it’s come to that already. Or what a battle such as this would even entail.

I imagine men with swords like the olden days. Metal clashing against metal. A field littered with bodies who fought hard until the end. Battle cries echoing across the land for the men they’d lost.

Father Martin doesn’t say anything as I lose myself in thought. Though his solemn expression is answer enough.

I nod, unsure of what else to do or think. I should tell him about the Order. About the Dark Priest and his plans, but seeing Father Martin like this takes the confidence out of me. Afraid to say any more, I leave him alone in his chambers.

Father Martin has enough on his plate trying to help the others prepare. The least I can do is help them by finding Justin before he releases any more of the Order. Dealing with the Dark Priest will be hard enough without the Order of Shadows by his side. I fear what kind of battle will take place if they’re released. The world as I know it may be no more.