Simon Toyne - The Key

‘We must hurry,’ Athanasius said, ‘we cannot be found here.’ He held out a bundle of folded robes. ‘Put these on and you will pass unnoticed through the mountain.’

Gabriel hauled himself off the floor, his shaking muscles complaining all the way, and pulled the scratchy woollen garments over the top of his own clothes. They would keep his aching muscles warm, which was good as he would need his strength again soon enough if he wanted to escape from the mountain. He looked up and held out his hand.

‘Gabriel,’ he said. ‘Thank you for saving my life again.’

The bald monk looked slightly embarrassed. ‘Athanasius,’ he replied, shaking the proffered hand, ‘or Brother Peacock, if you prefer. Your message mentioned something about a map.’

Gabriel dug a piece of paper from his pocket and held it out. It was a copy of the map Oscar had drawn in his journal. Athanasius took it and traced the outlines of tunnels and corridors with his finger, until it arrived at the symbol of crossed bones.

‘It’s the ossuary,’ he said. ‘Whatever you seek lies buried below the cathedral cave, along with the sacred bones of the prelates.’ He lifted the oil lamp down from its niche in the wall. ‘Pull your cowl over your head, keep a distance behind me and hide if anyone stops me to talk. No one should be abroad in the mountain this late. Let’s just hope everyone else is obeying that rule more strictly than I.’

Then he turned and left the tribute cave, heading for the darker depths of the mountain.

Gabriel followed the glow of the oil lamp as it bobbed ahead of him in the darkness. It slid along the tunnels, picking out dark doors and wires that snaked along the walls like veins. Every ten paces or so a light fitting jutted out, but none were lit. He wondered if this was down to the recent earthquake or just to save energy. It was a thought that strangely unsettled him. For so long he had demonized the Citadel and all who dwelt within it that to find himself suddenly inside and struck by these trivial details seemed surreal. He reminded himself he was in the enemy camp and that he was here for a reason. Reaching into his pocket, he felt the reassuring weight of the gun, and kept his eyes on the light ten or so paces in front of him and his mind on his mission.

Sometimes the curve of the tunnel made the light vanish from sight for a second or two and he had to feel his way quickly along the rough walls to catch up. Other times it dropped to the left or rose to the right as Athanasius descended or climbed stairways to other levels. Gabriel tried to keep track of where he was, but it was impossible. He hoped his guide was taking him on this circuitous route to avoid the more populated areas of the mountain rather than to confuse him in a prelude to an ambush.

After ten minutes of walking, ducking beneath low lights and squeezing through tunnels so narrow only one man could pass at a time, they stepped through a grand doorway into a vista that took Gabriel’s breath away. The cave was so vast he felt dizzy from the sudden space. Huge stalactites hung down from the distant ceiling and a massive window was cut high in the far wall. He could see the partial moon through it, reminding him of the ticking clock as it cast its silver glow through the antique glass, creating watery patterns on the stone floor below. They must have walked right through the centre of the mountain and arrived on the other side.

‘This way,’ Athanasius whispered, ‘the ossuary lies beneath the cathedral cave.’

Gabriel followed him, past the looming shape of the Tau rising up from the altar to the far wall where a needling formation of stalagmites formed a natural screen hiding a small door studded with metal bolts. Athanasius twisted a key in the lock, the noise echoing in the huge space like the bolt-action on a rifle. Gabriel looked behind to check they were still alone before following Athanasius through the door.

They were at the head of a stone ramp descending into darkness. It smelled of death. Athanasius locked the door and headed down, the musty hint of decay growing stronger with each step. At the bottom of the ramp another door barred their way and the smell of dry, mouldering rot billowed out at them as it opened.

‘The ossuary,’ Athanasius said, stepping inside and holding up the oil lamp to cast its light into the chamber beyond.

There were rows of long niches cut into both walls, three-high, stretching away into the darkness in either direction, making the narrow chamber resemble a carriage on a sleeper train, but those who slept here would never wake. In each niche Gabriel could see bones sticking out of rotting cassocks that covered what was left of the bodies of the formerly great. In one of the recesses in front of him a skull had rolled clear of the cowl and stared sightlessly at them. Below it the letter X was carved into the rock.

Gabriel stepped forward. The location of the Starmap had been marked with an X on Oscar’s map, but it seemed odd that he would hide it right opposite the door.

In the light of the lamp Gabriel could see something else carved next to it, partly obscured by the same gossamer layer of cobweb that covered most of the walls and openings. He wiped it away with his thumb and received a shock when he saw what it revealed: L I V.

He stared at the carvings for a moment, baffled by the presence of Liv’s name in this secret crypt. Then he realized his error. Every niche had a symbol carved beneath it. The one above was XLIII, and to his left the sequence continued with XLII, XLI, and XL. They were Roman numerals. XLIV was simply the number 44.

He took Oscar’s map from his pocket, remembering what was marked next to the crossed bones: XIV, the number 14.

‘This way,’ he said, heading left.

He hurried the length of the dank tunnel, counting down the numbers as he went, the flame of Athanasius’s oil lamp casting a long, restless shadow before him. The lower the numbers got, the rougher the walls of the tunnel became. When they dropped below the thirties, the tunnel changed again. The cobwebs that had laced the walls were now gone, cleared away so that each opening yawned clean and dark. The bodies inside had also been tidied up, and the loose piles of dusty bones were now wrapped neatly in canvas bundles that had been placed in the centre of each recess with the skull resting on top.

‘Here,’ Gabriel said, drawing level with number 14. He produced a compact torch from his pocket and twisted it on so the white light of the tiny bulb flooded the darkness.

‘What is it we are looking for?’ Athanasius asked, holding up the oil lamp to add more light.

‘Something like a piece of rock, or a section of a stone tablet with symbols etched on it; too heavy for someone to swim with, but small enough that they could smuggle it in here to hide.’

He swept the torch beam across the recess and felt his galloping hope trip inside him. Apart from the neat parcel of human remains in the centre, the niche was completely empty. He checked the neighbouring recesses: all empty save for the same neat parcels and grinning skulls that mocked him with their smiles. He examined the walls, the floor, the ceiling. All spotless and cut from solid rock, so there was no chance Oscar might have buried it.

He turned his attention back to the only thing remaining in recess XIV — the wrapped package of bones beneath the skull. He had initially ignored it because it looked too small, but having eliminated all other possibilities, it was the only place the Starmap could now be. He reached in and picked it up.

‘Please,’ Athanasius said, ‘do not disturb the relics.’

Gabriel would happily have ignored him, but the moment he lifted the loose parcel he could tell it was far too light to contain what he was looking for. Whatever Oscar had hidden here, over ninety years earlier, was gone: someone else must have found it. He placed the bundle carefully back down on the shelf, and ran his hand over the cold, clean stone.