Enticed (34 page)

„Why is that path there?" I asked one of Azeem"s Grigori, who was standing nearby.

„It used to be the path to the top – pilgrims would trek from Jerusalem. Now the roads have taken its place," he said, looking back to where the others were mil ing about.

It gave me an idea and I ran back to the front of the chapel. „Rudyard, do you have that thing you read to us at Hades? The Mc-whatever."

He raised his eyebrows, „I am assuming you are referring to the Second Book of Maccabees."

„Yeah."

He reached into his well-organised backpack and pulled out the old leather-bound book, opening it to the right page before passing it to me.

„Thanks," I said, reading as I walked back around the chapel.

„Don"t suppose you"d care to enlighten any of us?" he called out.

„Just an idea," I yelled back, not stopping.

A few paces later, I turned. Everyone was casually shuffling behind me. Lincoln came to my side and shrugged.

„No one else has had an idea."

„Oh," I gulped, suddenly feeling like I was on display.

I headed down the old forgotten path, my shoes catching on dried roots that carpeted the ground. Once I got a third of the way down, I stopped and turned back to face the hilltop.

Here"s the thing about observation, it is open to so many interpretations. At the first and most basic level – visual – we see, we believe. Even this level is sub-standard for the average human. We have four other main senses that influence is. If we smell something burning, for example, but see nothing on fire, most people will investigate to find the source.

After the senses comes instinct. Griffin had been teaching me in our classes that humans are confused by this concept and therefore, on the whole, are unable to harness the power of intuition. Instinct requires self-belief, something humans, who are all too aware of their own shortcomings, often fail to find.

From instinct we move to the higher end. Imagination and manipulation. Angels have dominion over these.

But in the end, observation will always come down to the final, unique factor – perception.

Any one person"s point of view wil provide their own individual perspective, influenced by the accumulation of their own life"s mil ions of moments. What one person would do if they saw the one they loved gunned down in front of them is completely different from what another would do. Whether it"s real or imagination doesn"t matter. The only thing that is certain is that an individual"s response sets off a chain of events that change everything for that person, forever. The power of angels – and this is why there must be both light and dark

– is to filter perception.

„Here," I said, letting the part in me that wasn"t human take the reins.

„What?" Lincoln asked, baffled.

I pointed to the plateaus on the mountain face and the trees that offered seclusion.

„Doesn"t that look like a perfect place for a cave?"

„I guess, but Vi, there are no caves here – no sign of an old opening. I don"t understand where you"re going with this."

„Jeremiah was on some kind of angelic mission, wasn"t he?" I asked, the sun catching in my eyes.

„So he may have been able to see things that the normal person couldn"t. Maybe even things that only angels could see, right?"

Lincoln wiped his face, tired, and looked at me dubiously. „I suppose."

I huffed and moved closer to him, sharing the book. „Look," I said pointing to the passage.

„”
And when Jeremiah came thither, he found an hollow CAVE, wherein he laid the
tabernacle, and the ark, and the altar of incense, and SO”,"
I emphasised, „”
STOPPED THE

DOOR. And some of those that followed him came to mark the way, BUT”,"
I looked at him to finish,
„”THEY could not find it."

„There"s a cave!" Lincoln called out to the others who"d been waiting at the top of the hil , watching us.

Spence and Zoe raced down with the others not far behind.

„Where is it?" Zoe asked, looking up and down, all around.

„We don"t know," I admitted, hoping I wasn"t leading everyone down a dead end.

Once everyone had joined us, Lincoln explained to the group of astonished faces that were all now positive that there was a cave in this mountain.

„Rudyard," Griffin said, „I think you can help."

„Shoot," Rudyard replied.

„Can you sense power here? You"l need to try and focus it at the mountain and find its source."

Rudyard crouched to the ground, touching it with both hands.

He waited.

Eventual y, he stood and sighed. „I can"t be hundred per cent, but a different energy certainly comes from that direction." He pointed to the right.

„Okay, my turn," Griffin said, as we all silently looked at each other, trying to figure out what was going on.

Griffin didn"t take long, though. He just walked a little to the right and then back. „The true mountain has definitely been disturbed and Rudy is right, it comes from over there, but like him I can"t pinpoint the spot."

Griffin put this head down, thinking. Everyone gave him time. „Right," he said, as if not real y sure. „Zoe, your turn."

„About damn time. What"s your pleasure?" she asked, beaming.

„
Lift
the mountain."

„What?" everyone chorused.

Zoe just looked from Griffin to the mountain, back to Griffin, then back to the mountain.

„How high?" she asked, as the mouths of the rest of us fell open.

Griffin smiled. „Just move it. If I"m right and the glamour holds, it won"t move. If you can shift the mountain and part of it remains still-„

„The cave wil be showing," Salvatore finished, looking impressed. He really was doing wel at keeping up and I wasn"t the only one who noticed. I think Zoe, who usually appears completely immune to Salvatore, actually became aware of him.

She closed her eyes and we all waited. Well, until Spence cracked. „You right, Zo?"

„Shut up! Even Mother Nature would need a moment for this one. I need to concentrate,"

she snapped.

So we waited again. And waited. It must have been about ten minutes, but then … the Earth started to move.

Azeem and his men, still at the top of the mountain, dropped to their knees. But there was little point unless they were praying to the almighty Zoe.

We all crouched to the ground to hold our footing. And marvelled.

Rocks began to move from side to side – it was only slight, but in sync. The trees – the entire mountain – rocked. Zoe had nature moving as one. Dancing.

„There!" Lincoln yelled.

„Yes!" cried Nyla, standing up, swaying like a magical creature, surfing the mountain.

One small area remained still. The mountain moved around it, but that part showed no sign of life. It was the perfect size – an opening.

„Okay, Zoe, you can stop!" Griffin roared over the sound of the live mountain.

Zoe stood and opened her eyes. The mountain became still, everything exactly where it had been. Everyone else stood slowly, in awe of what we had just witnessed. Salvatore bowed his head.

„Zoe,
complimenti.
"

She couldn"t hide the smile as she swatted him away. „I. Don"t. Speak. Italian!" she said, marching towards the place we were all now headed.

„Zoe, that was remarkable," Rudyard said. With this she couldn"t hold back a full-blown smile.

„We"re proud of you, Zoe," Nyla said, so warmly her words struck a chord in my heart. I realised they were like a family and when Zoe beamed back at Nyla, she gave the kind of smile a daughter would give a mother. I realised something else, too. That"s why Nyla unnerved me so much.

Nyla linked hands with Rudyard and they walked on.

Could I have that one day?

When it came to stepping up to the area that had not moved, it was Nyla and Lincoln who were first off the ranks. They felt around, trying to pull at rocks and dirt, but anything that was removed seemed somehow instantly replaced. It was useless.

„It"s solid, or something. It regenerates itself," Lincoln said, stil persisting, pulling at more rocks.

„Everything is under a glamour," Nyla said, walking back to us. „We cannot break through it with force," she clarified, even as we all watched Lincoln throwing boulders at the opening.

Ideas were put forward, the best of which was to try and tunnel in from another place.

But if Phoenix knew how to get in, there must be a way. He must have known we could
get in, too.

I took a tentative step towards the opening, scared, as if it might swallow me whole. I placed a hand on the glamour. It felt like touching dirt and rock.

I drew on my power – worked it up within and then released it over the glamour, willing it to fade. My mist poured from me straight to the opening, concentrating solely on the façade.

It knew what I asked of it.

The mist gripped its target, fixed onto it like billions of tiny droplets, and ate into the opening, working its way down to the ground.

„Well … that was effective," Griffin said, mesmerised. Before us stood a cave leading to a long tunnel, alight with what must have been ever-burning torches.

Eternal fire.

„
There are no days in life so memorable to those which
vibrated to some stroke of the imagination."

Ralph Waldo Emerson

We followed Azeem and his men as they led the way into the tunnel. I wondered why only the male Grigori had joined us on the trip. The only female Grigori I"d seen, other than Ermina, had been in the look-out posts back at the hotel.

Spence came up beside me. „Da da da dah-dah, da da da dah-dahh, da da da dah, da da da dah, da da da-dahh."

„
Star wars
?"

„Crap. I was going for
Indiana Jones
," he said. This place is wicked."

I wanted to agree but I had a different feeling and it had me on edge. I couldn"t place it, something stale, almost. I took off Lincoln"s cap and stopped walking. Spence"s attention had already drifted elsewhere and no one else noticed. I let them walk on ahead and turned back to the opening. Something was definitely not … then I realised what I should have sensed as soon as we entered the tunnel. Though on a much lesser, scale, it was that same musty feeling I"d had when I"d felt the senses on our arrival.

The sun beamed into the ominous tunnel and I walked back towards the opening I saw the robed exile standing there, bathed in bright light, head bowed beneath a hooded drape.

Waiting for me.

„Friend or foe?" I said, stopping a few metres away from him.

„Neither."

His voice was young, but tired, very tired.

„You"re an exile, aren"t you?" I asked, suddenly unsure.

„I made my choice, yes." And yet somehow I didn"t feel like it was real y an answer.

„Who are you?" I took another step towards him. He didn"t seem concerned.

„A messenger."

„What do you want?"

His head moved to the side. I thought he was going to look at me, but then he stilled again. „Nothing. I want for nothing."

„Then what are you doing here?" I asked, confused.

„Wanting. Nothing."

„Right …"

Escape from the institute much?

„What"s your name?" I tried, starting to feel impatient.

„You can call me Jude," he said, stil not revealing himself. I wondered if something horrific lay beneath the robes, if he were wounded or scarred.

„Okay, Jude. Do you know where the Scriptures are?"

He nodded once. „You must see the room which goes beyond your eyes."

Why the hell does everyone have to be so cryptic all the time?
It"s like some angel/exile criteria.

He turned to leave.

„Why are you so familiar?" I asked, stil unable to shake the feeling that I knew this exile somehow.

„I was famous once," he said, and though I stil couldn"t see his face, he sounded oddly amused.

-

When I caught up to everyone else again, they were piling into a small room. Azeem"s Grigori were walking back past me.

„Where are they going?" I asked.

„To guard out front," Azeem said.

„Oh," I responded, briefly considering telling them about Jude but deciding not to. He was gone.

„This is truly remarkable," Nyla was saying as I walked into the room they were all gawking at.

Lincoln came to my side. „Where did you go?"

I didn"t think anyone had noticed. „I"l tell you later," I whispered.

Along with everything else.

He raised an eyebrow but let it go.

I looked around the room, really just a dirt floor and cracked stone walls covered in paintings and symbols that looked thousands of years old, which were precisely what made it so remarkable.

„This is an amazing discovery," Azeem said, „but I cannot see anything in here to help you. It is possible this is the – or a - pre-chamber to Moses" tomb, but I cannot see where it would lead," he said, circling the room, running his hand along the walls.

„We have to allow ourselves to see it," I whispered to myself, repeating Jude"s word. „Oh my God! I know what to do."

I looked at Lincoln. „It"s like the front, but more. This place – it"s made by angels."

„Glamour?" Lincoln asked, trying to keep up.

I shook my head, „Imagination."

The two things seem the same but glamour is external, a trick of the eye. Imagination is within us, a perception. To reveal it, our own imaginations have to be open to new interpretation.

And before anyone could ask, I released my power into the room. A blanket of amethyst mist floated over everything and began to work its way through the apparent barriers. This room was a defence, just another layer.

The intensity of my power built and built and started to encircle the room, rebounding off the walls until the mist became its own windstorm. Everyone hit the decks.

I pushed it out, pushed it to break down the entire fabric of what was surrounding us. It looked real. If we tried to walk through it our legs would not take us and if we put our hands to the wall our minds would tell us it was solid. But it was not.