David Morrell - The Covenant Of The Flame

Fulano took a torch from one of the villagers and gestured for Tess and Craig to walk to his right across the field. Gerrard took another torch and accompanied them as did the two Secret Service agents. But unexpectedly the group became larger, other men joining them from beyond the fires. These newcomers did not wear festive garments. They didn't carry crosses woven from flowers and wheat. What they wore instead was rugged outdoor clothing, and what they carried were automatic weapons.

Beyond the bonfires, the field became disturbingly black, illuminated in patches only by the torches that Fulano and Gerrard held before them. Tess fearfully recalled the torchbearers in the statue that she'd seen in Joseph's bedroom. Her feet and ankles felt cold, the dew on the knee-high grass soaking her sandles and the lower portion of her long skirt. Panic made her want to tug at Craig and run. They might be able to escape in the darkness, she hoped. But despair took charge, making her realize that the guards would hunt them, that the villagers would join in the search, and the odds were that she and Craig would lose their sense of direction, running in circles in this unfamiliar valley, trying to avoid the bonfires until they were captured.

The field began to slope upward. Guided by the torches, she and the rest of the group passed beech trees, veered around boulders, and continued climbing, the dampness making Tess colder. The hill angled higher, and now she smelled the resin of pine trees.

At once the slope leveled off. Grass became rocks. She peered ahead toward where the torches revealed a narrow gap, concealed by bushes, at the base of a cliff. Stepping closer, she saw that the gap was the entrance to a cave. But a few feet into the cave, a rusted iron door formed a barrier.

Fulano handed his torch to a guard, removed a key from his pocket, and released a padlock on the door. With effort, leaning his shoulder against the door, he shoved it open, its hinges creaking. The night became eerily silent, the only sound the crackling torches and Fulano's footsteps as he disappeared beyond the door. Five seconds later, the silence was broken by the sound of something being cranked, then the sputter of an engine, then a roar as the engine came to life. The interior of the cave was abruptly illuminated by a dim bulb attached to the ceiling, and Tess saw that the engine was a kerosene-powered generator.

Someone nudged her back. Turning, Tess blinked in surprise at Hugh Kelly, who must have joined them during the trek up the slope. Where had he been? What had he been doing? Like the guards, he too wore outdoor clothing.

'Go in,' he said. 'You'll find shoes and a jacket. The cave can be slippery. It's also cold.'

'I brought my sneakers,' Tess said. She took them from her purse and pulled them on, her feet at last secure.

No matter, she trembled. The torches were set on the ground, twisted among the rocks, and extinguished. When she and Craig entered the cave, followed by Gerrard, Kelly and the guards, she noticed woolen coats opposite the generator and put one on, buttoning it. Despite its insulation, she continued to tremble.

The narrow passage was barely head-tall. Proceeding, she stopped ten yards ahead just beyond a curve, frowning at another iron door.

While Fulano unlocked it, Hugh Kelly shut and locked the first door.

That's it, she thought. We're finished.

'Don't look so nervous.' Despite the roar of the generator, Fulano's voice reverberated off the damp limestone walls. 'That locked door is strictly for security precautions. After all, we're here at night, and remember, you're not the only ones at risk. Alan and I are attractive targets for assassins. I trust the villagers, but the darkness could very well hide enemies who may have kept track of our movements and would like nothing better than to catch us alone in this isolated area. Three guards have stayed outside to make sure that no one attacks us when we leave. As you may have noticed, Alan's Secret Service agents don't look happy about this trip.'

'I did notice.' Tess remained convinced that the guards cared more about Craig and herself than they did about Gerrard and Fulano. All the same, she pretended to follow his logic. 'But what if something goes wrong outside? What if your guards are overpowered?'

'We try to contact them with walkie-talkies. If they don't respond,' Gerrard explained and gestured off-handedly, 'we use a different exit.'

'You've thought of everything,' Craig said.

'We try to.' Fulano nudged the farther door, forcing it open, its hinges screeching, its iron bottom scraping against rock. 'And now the surprise.'

'One of the greatest wonders in the world,' Gerrard said. 'Few people have seen it. Only those who deserve to, who have the capacity to appreciate it, who care about the planet, about its soul, and you, Tess, have the right. Because you do care. With a passion. You've proven that in your articles.'

'So now' – Fulano shoved the door completely open – 'you're about to see a mystery. Perhaps the greatest mystery. Something so sacred that after you see it, you'll never be the same.'

'I can't imagine what - '

'No,' Gerrard said. ' Don't imagine. Don't anticipate. Just witness it. Just stand back and appreciate. You're about to be changed.'

'The way my life has been going, I'm due for a change. For the better, I hope.'

'For the better,' Fulano said. 'No question. You have my word. Absolutely.'

Tess followed them through the door, clutched Craig's hand, and felt the guards behind her. Fulano paused to lock the second entrance.

It's getting worse, Tess thought.

Crude steps carved into the limestone led down to a deep, wide, towering cavern. Dim lightbulbs next to the primitive stairway Sustened off moist rock and guided the way.

Tess reached the bottom, overwhelmed by the vastness of the amber. In awe, she stared this way and that at intricate rock formations. Stalactites hung from the ceiling, water dripping down from them, forming pools which she avoided. Stalagmites projected upward from the pools, their contours vaguely resembling the snouts of animals.

Her rapid breathing appeared as vapor.

'This cave has a constant temperature of fifty-five degrees,' Fulano said. 'Winter or summer. Thousands of years ago, a rock-fall buried the original entrance, preserving the interior. In all that time, the secret of the cave was hidden. But during the eighteen hundreds, another rockslide opened a gap in the cliff. A local farmer, searching for missing lambs, wandered up the slope, discovered the gap, and decided to investigate, less out of curiosity about the cave – after all, such places can be dangerous – than out of concern that his lambs might have wandered inside. He soon reached a farther gap so narrow that his lambs could never have gotten past it. Dim sunlight from the entrance showed him that the cave was much larger beyond the narrow passageway, and he mentioned it to his family, then to other farmers after he'd found his lambs in a meadow later that day. Word gradually spread and eventually reached my valley, where my great-great-grandfather had an interest in caves. He decided to mount an expedition, came to this valley, and ordered his workmen to use picks and sledgehammers to widen the passageway. The limestone was brittle enough to allow them to accomplish his orders. He then used torches to investigate farther, and when he found what we're about to show you, he swore his workers to secrecy. As quickly as possible, he had an iron door secured into the rock walls at the entrance, and he alone carried the key to its padlock. Later a second door was added farther along. Those doors are not the ones through which we passed. Years ago, the originals rusted and disintegrated, replaced by others. In recent times, improvements were made, steps chiseled into slopes, light-bulbs strung, their wires attached to the kerosene generator.'