Kate Mosse - Labyrinth

Francois-Baptiste too started to move. He came down the steps until he was standing behind Will.

Marie-Cecile stopped in front of him and whispered something to Will, too quiet for Alice to hear. Although Francois-Baptiste’s smile stayed in place, she saw the anger in his face as he leaned forward, lifted Will’s bound hands and offered his arm to Marie-Cecile.

Alice flinched as Marie-Cecile made a single incision between Will’s wrist and elbow. He winced and she could see the shock in his eyes, but he made no sound.

Marie-Cecile held the bowl to catch five drops of blood.

She repeated the process with Audric, then came to a halt in front of Alice. She could see the excitement in Marie-Cecile’s face as she traced the point of the blade along the white underside of Alice’s arm, along the line of the old wound. Then with the precision of a surgeon with a scalpel, she inserted the knife into the skin and pressed the tip down, slowly, until her scar split open again.

The pain took her by surprise, an ache, not a sharp sensation. Alice felt warm at first, then quickly cold and numb. She stared mesmerised by the drops of blood falling, one by one, into the oddly pale mixture in the bowl.

Then it was over. Francois-Baptiste released her and followed his mother towards the altar. Marie-Cecile repeated the procedure with her son, then positioned herself between the altar and the labyrinth.

She placed the bowl in the centre and drew the knife across her own skin, watching as her own blood trickled down her arm.

The mingling of bloods.

A flash of understanding went through Alice. The Grail belonged to all faiths and none. Christian, Jew, Moslem. Five guardians, chosen for their character, their deeds, not their bloodline. All were equal.

Alice watched Marie-Cecile reach forward and slip something out from between the pages of each of the books in turn. She held up the third one. A sheet of paper. No, not paper, papyrus. As Marie-Cecile held it up to the light, the weave of the reeds was clear. The symbol was clear.

The ankh, the symbol of life.

Marie-Cecile lifted the bowl to her lips and drank. When it was empty, she replaced the bowl with both hands and looked out over the chamber until she had fixed Audric with her gaze. It seemed to Alice she was challenging him to make her stop.

Now she pulled the ring from her thumb and turned to the stone labyrinth, disturbing the hushed air. As the lamplight flickered behind her, sending shadows leaping up the walls, Alice saw, in the shadows in the carved rock, two shapes that she had never before noticed.

Hidden within the outline of the labyrinth, the shadow of the shape of the ankh and the outline of a cup were clearly identifiable.

Alice heard a sharp click, as if a key was being inserted into a lock. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen. Then, from deep in the wall, there was the noise of something shifting, stone against stone.

Marie-Cecile stepped back. Alice saw that a small opening a little bigger than the books had been revealed at the centre of the labyrinth. A compartment.

Words and phrases sprang into her mind, Audric’s explanation and her own investigations all mixed up together.

At the centre of the labyrinth is enlightenment, at the centre lies understanding. Alice thought about the Christian pilgrims walking the Chemin de Jerusalem in the nave of Chartres Cathedral, walking the ever decreasing spirals of the labyrinth in search of illumination.

Here, in the Grail labyrinth, the light – literally – was at the heart of things.

Alice watched as Marie-Cecile took the lantern from the altar and hung it in the alcove. It was a perfect fit. Straight away it brightened and the chamber was flooded with light.

Marie-Cecile lifted a papyrus from one of the books on the altar and slid it into a slot at the front of the alcove. A little of the lamplight was lost and the cave darkened.

She spun round and stared at Audric, her words breaking the spell.

“You said I would see something,” she shouted.

He raised his amber eyes to hers. Alice willed him to remain silent, but she knew he would not. For reasons she did not understand, Audric was determined to let the ceremony run its course.

“The true incantation is revealed only when the three papyri are laid one on top of the other. Only then, in the play of light and shadow, will the words that must be spoken, rather than the words that must be silent, be revealed.”

Alice was shivering. She understood the cold was inside her, as if her body warmth was bleeding out of her, but she couldn’t control herself.

Marie-Cecile turned the three parchments around in her fingers.

“Which way round?”

“Release me,” Audric said in his calm, quiet voice. “Release me, then take up your position in the centre of the chamber. I will show you.”

She hesitated, then nodded to FrancoisBaptiste.

2›“Maman, je ne pense-‘ 2›

“Do what you’re told,” she snapped.

In silence, Francois-Baptiste sliced through the rope holding Audric to the floor, then stepped back.

Marie-Cecile reached behind her and picked up the knife.

“If you do anything,” Marie-Cecile said, pointing it at Alice, as Audric walked slowly up the chamber, I’ll kill her. Understand?“ She gestured to where Francois-Baptiste was standing by Will. ”Or he will.“

“I understand.”

He darted a glance at Shelagh lying motionless on the floor, then whispered to Alice. “I am right?” he whispered, suddenly doubtful. “The Grail will not come to her?”

Although Audric was looking at her, Alice felt he was asking his question of somebody else. Someone with whom he had already shared this experience.

Despite herself, Alice found she knew the answer. She was certain. She smiled, giving him the reassurance he needed.

“It will not come,” she said under her breath.

“What are you waiting for?” Marie-Cecile shouted.

Audric stepped forward.

“You must take each of the three papyri,” he said, “then place them in front of the flame.”

“You do it.”

Alice watched him take the three translucent sheets and arrange them in his hands, then carefully insert the papyri. For a moment the flame burning in the alcove guttered and seemed to fade. The cave became very dark, as if the lights had been dimmed.

Then, as her eyes adjusted to the increased gloom, Alice saw that now only a handful of hieroglyphs remained, illuminated in a pattern of light and dark that followed the lines of the labyrinth. All unnecessary words had been veiled. “Di ankh djet …” The words were clear in her mind. ‘Di ankh djet, “ she said out loud, then the rest of the phrase, translating in her mind the ancient words she spoke.

“In the beginning of time, in the land of Egypt, the master of secrets, gave words and scripts. Gave life.”

Marie-Cecile turned on Alice.

“You read the words,” she said, striding towards her and grabbing her arm. “How do you know what they mean?”

“I don’t. I don’t know.”

Alice tried to pull away, but Marie-Cecile jerked her forwards towards the point of the knife, so close that Alice could see the brown stains on the worn blade. Her eyes closed and she repeated the phrase.

“Di ankh djet…”

Everything seemed to happen at once.

Audric launched himself at Marie-Cecile.

“Maman!”

Will took advantage of Francois-Baptiste’s lapse in concentration. He pulled his leg back and kicked him in the small of the back. Taken by surprise, the boy fired his pistol into the roof of the cave as he fell, deafeningly loud in the confined space. Instantaneously, Alice heard the bullet smash into the solid rock of the mountain and ricochet across the space.