God's Lions - The Dark Ruin (41 page)

As the rumbling grew louder, the Arch Demons surrounded him, enveloping him in their evil embrace as the ground continued to shake, until finally, as the black orb that had blotted out the rays of the sun began to move away from the macabre scene, some of the demons began fading from view, disappearing from the earth plane back into their world of darkness while others began lifting off the ground, their joyous laughter echoing off the crater’s walls as they flew through the red tendrils of the rapidly disappearing red mist and scattered to the four corners of the Earth. The last to depart was Agaliarept, his monstrous head swinging back and forth as he fixed Adrian with his burning red eyes before flying up and fading into an evil speck outlined by a mysterious dark mass of plasma-like gas that had formed over the crater.

A deathly silence reigned over the Dark Ruin as Colette looked out over the burned, blood-soaked bodies of the dead soldiers lying on the ground around the ruin. The grisly sight resembled a battlefield, but the battle here had been for a single soul—the soul of her only son. Her shoulders sagged as she began to weep, for she knew the thing standing beside her was no longer the boy she had raised. He was now gone—gone forever. It was like death, and she could only pray that her son’s soul had traveled to heaven before its once beautiful light had been extinguished here in this awful place.

“Come with me, Mother.”

In a reversal of their earlier roles, Colette’s eyes flashed in anger. “I am no longer your mother!”

Adrian laughed. “And I am no longer your son.” A quizzical expression crossed his face. “Aren’t you the least bit grateful that I spared your life?”

“Death would have been preferable to seeing my son’s soul erased before my very eyes.”

“You should be happy for me, Mother. I am finally the one I was always meant to be. Now, I’m afraid it is time for you to go.” Adrian smiled as he pointed to the top of the crater. Framed by the orange globe of the sinking sun, Colette could see the outline of the old man from the village standing at the edge of the crater.

“Go with him,” Adrian said. “He will see to it that no harm comes to you. You will be well cared for, but you and I will never see each other again. I have been reborn, and it is time for me to go about my father’s work.”

Colette reached out to touch him, but instead of the warmth of a loving son, she now felt an aura of darkness that shielded him from the outside world. In her mind, she doubted if anything could ever touch a thing with a soul as black as that which lay inside the thing standing before her. “May God have mercy on your soul for what you have done to my son!”

At the mention of the word God, Adrian physically recoiled and his dark eyes blazed with an ancient hatred that was now flowing through the body of one who had once been pure. For a split second his dark eyes turned red as his features darkened. He clenched his fists and looked to the heavens, and as he laughed out loud he bent forward and looked Colette directly in the eye before speaking in an otherworldly voice. “I’ll be sure to tell your son you said hello when I visit him in hell.”

Colette wanted to reach out and strike him, but instead her head began to spin as darkness closed in around her.
She had to hang on!
Breathing in deeply, she stood erect and looked back into the now black eyes of the thing that had once been her son. Then, without so much as a word, she turned her back and began walking away over the jagged rocks, and with a strength born of necessity, she continued on without looking back, climbing the sloping sides of the crater all the way to the top before finally stumbling over the edge. Waiting silently, the old man motioned for her to follow, while back down in the crater below, Adrian Acerbi smiled up at a clearing sky from his place among the black pillars of hell.

* *

On a neighboring hillside, Abbas Sadik and Colonel Demir were lying hidden in the tall grass, shaking violently after witnessing the events that had unfolded around the crater. The two men had been waiting in a concealed position far enough away to avoid detection, and as they watched and waited they had seen the black orb flow in from the east as a swirling maelstrom formed directly over the crater. For awhile their view of the crater had been completely obliterated as the hot wind had whipped their faces, and when the dark mass had finally departed, they had seen only Colette emerge from the crater to be greeted by the village elder.

“My God,” Demir finally said. “What just happened?”

“I have no idea,” Abbas replied, “but I can tell you one thing. Whatever just happened over there was not of this world.”

Exchanging glances, the two men lifted themselves up and slid down the hillside before creeping across a narrow trench and climbing to the top of the crater. Peering over the edge, they each let out a gasp when they saw the bodies of the soldiers lying scattered on the ground below.

Looking through his binoculars, Demir finally found his voice. “Where is it?”

“Where is
what
, Colonel?” Abbas gasped.

“The ruin ... the Dark Ruin. It’s gone!”

“What are you talking about?”

“There was an ancient ruin at the bottom of this crater. I saw it with my own eyes when I came here a few weeks ago with the cardinal. The columns were huge, and they were solid black. Now look! It’s gone ... completely vanished! There’s nothing down there but rocks and bloodied bodies!”

Abbas paused for a moment as he stared down into the crater. “Something else is also missing.”

“What?”

“Where’s the boy?”

Standing in the lobby of the Hotel Amalfi, Leo peered through the etched Victorian glass and watched the darkened street outside.

“Would you like another coffee, Cardinal?” Arnolfo asked.

“No thanks. My nerves are already stretched to the limit as it is.”

The hotel owner smiled. “Coffee actually calms me. I guess Italians have become immune to its effects. How about a small glass of brandy?”

“That actually sounds like a good idea right now,” Leo said, diverting his attention from the street outside for a moment.

Reaching for a rounded brown bottle behind the counter, Arnolfo filled a small espresso cup full of the thick golden liquid before handing it to Leo “You have nothing to worry about, my friend. Things will turn out for the best. You’ll see.”

Arnolfo noticed that the cardinal’s usually bright green eyes had lost their shine. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you look so down, Cardinal. Is it Mr. Acerbi?”

“Yes. The timing of his death is very troubling ... for many reasons. I had grown very fond of that old man. Next to Pope Michael, he was probably one of the most moral, intelligent men I have ever known, and I pray that his spirit is surrounded by the light he so desperately tried to shine on the rest of the world.” As Leo downed the brandy in one long gulp, he turned back toward the windows and saw Morelli drive up in an old black Fiat.

“I should be back later tonight, Arnolfo. Would you mind checking in on Pope Michael from time to time?”

“Of course, Cardinal. I just left some wine outside the door to his room.”

Leo started to speak but Arnolfo held up his hand. “Go, Cardinal. I can tell you have important business. I’ll keep an eye on things ... I promise. Several of my cousins from Napoli moved into the hotel this afternoon. Let’s just say that if anyone tries to harm the Holy Father while he is here they will pay a very high price for their mistake.”

“Do your cousins know who they’re protecting?”

“No, and they didn’t ask. A friend of mine is a friend of theirs ... no questions asked. That’s the Italian way, Cardinal, and you are one of us now. Protecting your friends is rule number one.” Arnolfo smiled. “They will soon know who they are protecting. That’s also the Italian way, but I promise you that their lips will remain sealed. If anything, it will make them even fiercer when it comes to protecting him.”

“I believe you’ll have a reserved seat in heaven, my friend,” Leo said, setting his cup on the counter and pushing his way out through the lobby doors.

Bounding down the steps into the cool night air, he worked to squeeze his tall frame into the small car and glanced at Morelli’s face in the glow from the instrument panel. “Sorry you had to give up driving your BMW. I know how much you loved that car.”

“It’s only a car, Leo,” Morelli replied quietly. “At least now they won’t be able to track my movements. Francois and his men just took Acerbi’s body to the Secret Chapel after it was embalmed. It’s the only place we could think of right now.”

“A very appropriate choice,” Leo said. “He would have appreciated the gesture. We’ll have to find a way to transport him back to Foix. I think that’s where he would want to be buried.”

Morelli cleared his throat as he shoved the car into gear and slowly drove away from the hotel through the dimly lit streets. They were headed south, to the
Specola Vaticana
, otherwise known as the Vatican Observatory. Located a short 25 kilometers southeast of Rome in the 16
^th
century monastery
Castel Gandolfo
, the observatory was situated on a high ridge within sight of Rome’s Fiumicino Airport.

For centuries Jesuit priests have studied the heavens due to the astronomical basis of the calendar from which holy days and Easter are determined. Even the Gregorian calendar, promulgated in 1582 by Pope Gregory XIII, was developed by the Jesuit mathematician
Christoph Clavius
at the
Collegio Romano
from astronomical data gleaned from watching the night skies.

In addition to being used as an observatory, the old monastery was also the pope’s summer residence, and since the 1930’s it had also been the cramped home to several imminent Jesuit astronomers who were acknowledged experts in everything from space clusters to quasars to Earth-crossing meteorites. The observatory’s astronomical library alone contained over 22,000 books on astronomy, including the works of Copernicus, Galileo, Newton, and Kepler, and it’s most prized possession was a moon rock—a gift from NASA.

Heading up onto the Ring freeway, Leo kept his eyes glued to the rear-view mirror, relaxing only after he was satisfied that no one was following them. “Why didn’t you want to go to the old observatory inside the Vatican?” Leo asked. “You know ... the one in the domed building behind the Basilica. I believe they call it the
Tower of the Winds
or something like that.”

“You really don’t get around the Vatican much, do you, Leo? They haven’t used that observatory since the early 1800’s. They moved the original telescope to the top of Saint Ignatius because the dome of Saint Peter’s got in the way, but they stopped using that location after the smoke and glow from the city distorted their observations. Besides, someone might recognize you if you entered the Holy City, and we need the help of the Jesuit astronomers. As far as I know they all still live at
Castel Gandolfo
. They’re going to be very surprised when you walk through the door.”

“Surprised isn’t exactly the word I was thinking of,” Leo said. “Sooner or later word is going to leak out that the Holy Father is back in Rome, and we’re going to have a lot of explaining to do.” Looking outside at the lamp posts flashing by the car’s windows, Leo suddenly became aware that there were almost no other cars on a freeway usually filled with bumper-to-bumper traffic. Every few miles they would pass a police car parked on the side of the road, its blue lights flashing, but aside from an occasional car or truck ambling along below the speed limit, the streets of Rome appeared to be deserted.

The two men also noticed fewer lights shining from the windows of the buildings and houses they passed, and the street lights seemed dimmer than usual for some reason. The vacant feel in the air was eerie as they swerved off the freeway onto the access road and turned under an overpass before heading south in the direction of the observatory. Ahead, illuminated by a few pinkish-colored halogen lights powered by solar cells, Leo could see the darkened outline of the pope’s summer residence on a ridge in the distance.

Ten minutes later, they found themselves driving up a narrow, winding road that twisted its way to the top of the ridge and ended at the front entrance to the monastery. As soon as they stopped, Leo pulled his baseball hat down over his eyes as an elderly security guard approached the little black car and shined his flashlight down at Morelli. “Oh, Bishop,
mi scusi
.
Buona sera
.” The old man switched off his light. “I didn’t recognize you in this car. What are you doing here at this hour? It’s not safe to be driving around Rome after dark now.”

“We need to speak to an astronomer. Are any of them here?”

“They’re all down at the telescope.”

Morelli glanced over at Leo before looking back up at the guard. “Isn’t the telescope here?”

“Oh no, Bishop. They moved it a year ago to an old convent a mile down the road. Too many lights from the airport distorted the view.”

“Oh, I see. I guess it has been awhile since I’ve been here. Can you point the way?”

“
Si
, Bishop. You go back down the hill and head south until you see a large building on the right behind a red wall. They just finished building the new dome ... you can’t miss it.”

“
Grazie
,
Signor.
Have a nice evening.”

“You too, Bishop. Have you heard any news about the Holy Father or Cardinal Amodeo?”

Morelli smiled as he put the car into gear and began to back away. “No, but I have a feeling they’ll be back soon.” Looking over at a smiling Leo, Morelli spun the tires and headed back down the hill, leaving the confused-looking guard standing in front of the darkened monastery shaking his head.

Driving south on a rural, tree-lined road, they continued on until their headlights illuminated a reddish-colored wall surrounding a large brown building, and above the trees they could see a copper-sheathed dome outlined against a star-filled sky. Morelli quickly steered through the open gate and skidded to a stop in a gravel courtyard next to three other small cars. Stepping out, the two men stretched before tentatively approaching a massive wooden door and knocking.