Dark Star, page 19
Shadow rolled her eyes, and Gabe shot her a warning glance while he answered Estelle. “It is! Is it always like this?”
“Far more often than the UK!” Estelle surveyed the group as they took in their surroundings. “How did you find your first flights?”
“Like being trapped in a tin can,” Nahum grumbled. “I much prefer how we do it.”
Barak shrugged, his huge shoulders straining against his shirt. “It was a bit snug for my liking.”
Estelle laughed, and Gabe realised he’d never seen her look so relaxed. “That’s because you’re all enormous—well, except for Shadow. They design seats for the average human, not giants.”
“I enjoyed it,” Ash said, fixing his sunglasses over his eyes. “As new experiences go, it could be worse. But I am anxious to be out of the airport.”
“Me too,” Aubrey said, shuffling uncomfortably with his briefcase clutched in his hand. It contained the astrolabe, and he hadn’t wanted to relinquish it to anyone else, despite Gabe’s protestations.
Estelle swung one set of keys that she’d collected from inside the terminal. Gabe had the other. “Let’s get the hire cars and get out of here.” She led the way across the car park to where the rental cars were kept beyond the visitor parking, and stopped in front of a couple of silver SUVs. “These are ours—they should do nicely. Who’s going with who?”
He and Nahum had chatted about this earlier, and Gabe was keen to keep Shadow from Estelle, and Aubrey and Caldwell separated for safety reasons. “I’ll take Shadow, Aubrey and Nahum, if you take Barak, Ash and Caldwell.”
“Sure. You’ve got the address, so if you get lost, I’ll see you there.”
“I’m planning to follow you all the way,” Gabe reassured her as they loaded their bags into the car. “How far is it?”
“About thirty or forty minutes. It’s deep in the countryside, reasonably isolated, and surrounded by vineyards. It’s perfect.”
After one last sweep of the carpark where nothing looked untoward, Gabe slid into the driver’s seat and started the engine. “You’ve got the address, Nahum?”
Nahum was in the passenger seat, and he lifted his phone. “Programmed in, just in case.”
Aubrey was in the back, and Gabe caught his wary expression in the rear-view mirror. “Are you okay, Aubrey?”
He looked up, startled. “I’m fine. Just paranoid that we’ve been followed.”
“I think they’re regrouping,” Shadow said, looking out the window with an eager curiosity. “And licking their wounds. We’ll have a brief reprieve.”
“And they will be planning another attack, no doubt,” Nahum put in. “That’s what Mouse suggested to Niel, anyway.”
“Maybe. But if I were them, I’d try stealth next,” she said thoughtfully.
Gabe thought about Niel and Zee’s encounter with Mouse while he followed Estelle’s car. “At least we don’t have Mouse to worry about, although she might have been on the plane, for all we know.” He glanced at Nahum. “Can we get a description from Harlan? Niel gave us nothing except ‘almond-shaped eyes.’”
Shadow grunted. “Niel really should have taken her balaclava off. Idiot. And I already asked Harlan. She’s petite, and that’s about all I could get from him, because her appearance changes all the time. But he did say she was of Asian descent.”
Gabe felt compelled to defend Niel. “They stopped her, that’s the most important thing. And she shared information she didn’t need to. Niel obviously made an impression.” And clearly, so had she. Niel had that look on his face when he talked about her. He was intrigued, and Niel loved a mysterious woman.
Nahum nodded his agreement. “They did well to catch her. But let’s not forget that according to Harlan, we might have a government organisation following us, too.”
Gabe hated to feel hemmed in, and right now, he felt like he was suffocating. “It’s ridiculous. I feel as if everyone is watching us!”
Nahum smiled. “It makes me feel very important. Three groups are after us, and we’re one step ahead.”
“I’d like half a dozen steps ahead, please!” Gabe glanced in the rear-view mirror at Aubrey, debating whether now would be a good time to tell him about Harlan’s encounter with Black Cronos while investigating Barnaby Armstrong’s address. But maybe not. Perhaps the less he knew at this stage, the better. And besides, they might learn more from Jackson later today.
Aubrey’s voice was quiet but confident as he said, “If we make it to the reading, we’ll be going directly to the chamber. They’ll be too late.”
“One more day to go,” Gabe mused. “A lot could happen before then.”
Shadow gave a dry laugh. “Let’s hope this château is more castle than manor house.”
Gabe nodded his agreement; otherwise, the coming days would feel like a lifetime.
They fell silent, admiring their surroundings as Gabe followed Estelle off the main roads and onto quiet lanes, meandering through villages, past fields, old stone houses, and vineyards. Gabe was aware of the subtle differences between this area and England. The design of the buildings for a start, never mind the French road signs, which didn’t really register with him as he translated them automatically. It was more the feel of the place, and a change in the air itself. He was so absorbed that the time passed quickly, and it was with surprise when they turned up a long drive edged by stone walls, and finally swept into an immaculate courtyard surrounded by a variety of outbuildings with red stone roofs and slender columns. It was very different to their own courtyard at home.
The château itself was built of buttery yellow stone covered in ivy, a mix of square and round turrets with gothic arches and square windows, a sign of how it had been added to over the centuries, all of it charming and soothing to the eye. Lush planting edged the buildings, vibrant with summer flowers, and as Gabe exited the car, he was assaulted by their heady perfume. The whole place exuded a serene calm, but despite that, Gabe was worried.
Nahum echoed his thoughts when he said, “This place will be a nightmare to defend.”
“I agree,” Shadow said, walking around the car to stand next to Gabe. She surveyed the place with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowing against the glare of sunshine. “It’s beautiful, but there are so many places someone could hide!”
“Complaining already?” Estelle said, eyeing Shadow with distaste as she joined them. She had parked the other car against the far gate that looked over a tree-filled park that bordered the property.
Gabe felt a stab of worry as Shadow cast a withering glance at Estelle. “I am merely agreeing with Nahum that it will be hard to defend. But,” she said, clenching her jaw, “it is a stunning place. Thank you for finding it for us, Estelle.”
A shocked silence fell over the group, and Barak’s lips twitched with humour. He was behind Estelle and Shadow, so neither of them could see him, and Gabe fought back his own grin, swiftly saying, “Really beautiful, Estelle. But there are a lot of outbuildings that could hide Mouse, should she ever find us here. And of course, there’s Black Cronos.”
Estelle looked slightly mollified. “Don’t worry. I can set up good defensive spells for us when we get settled. Let’s head inside.”
For the next half an hour they explored the quirky building, assigning rooms and unpacking, and Gabe was even more disturbed. The layout was bewildering; corridors and staircases twisted back and forth on each other, as different levels revealed themselves. And everything was beautiful and expensive. He daren’t think how much breakages would set them back. They needed to set up patrols immediately, no matter how good Estelle’s defensive spells were.
They met up again at a long, wooden table on a sheltered terrace, climbing plants softening the stonework and scrambling through the beams overhead, jugs of lemon-scented water set out for refreshment. Aubrey and Caldwell had lost the slightly haunted look they had carried since the night of the attack, but Gabe knew this was no time to get complacent.
“We need to scout the outbuildings and the perimeter,” he said to the group. “I want us to know this place intimately. Our lives may depend on it.”
“I’ll cover that,” Barak volunteered immediately.
“I’d like to study these manuscripts some more,” Ash said. “See if we can work out a few more details about the Dark Star chamber. I still feel like we’ll be stumbling in blind once we uncover the location.” He looked apologetically at Caldwell and Aubrey. “Sorry, guys. I know you’ve been working hard on this, but we still know so little!”
They shot each other uneasy glances, but nodded their consent, and Gabe hoped they weren’t concealing something.
Nahum’s chair scraped back as he said, “I’m with you, Barak. Shadow?”
“Coming, too,” she said, rising swiftly to her feet.
“In that case,” Estelle said, calmly, “I will start my spells. Is someone going to buy food?”
“I can do that,” Ash volunteered, “before I hit the books.”
“Then I’ll search the house,” Gabe said, checking his watch. “Let’s meet here again in about four hours.”
Nineteen
It was mid-afternoon when Harlan received a call from Jackson, just as he’d the left the tube station in Soho, and he sheltered in an alleyway.
“Everything okay, Jackson?” Harlan asked, as he registered Jackson’s hurried tone.
“Stefan Hope-Robbins, the professor I was telling you about, has left Oxford, and is heading to France. Bordeaux, to be precise. And he was with a woman with long, black hair.”
Harlan sagged against the wall. “Shit. The Silencer of Souls?”
“We think so.”
“I need to tell Gabe,” Harlan said, his mind racing through the possibilities. “It could be a place they’d be going to anyway. The trail seems to lead there.”
“Unless the potential leak, Barnaby Armstrong, has already shared their location,” Jackson suggested. “Can you check with Gabe, see if Aubrey or Caldwell had been keeping in touch with him?”
Harlan closed his eyes briefly. This is what they’d been worried about, but Caldwell was still adamant there was no mole. “Yes, of course. I’ll call him now.”
“I have a favour to ask you, actually,” Jackson said. “I’m heading to Bordeaux too, and wondered if you’d keep an eye on the order. Update me if you hear any news? Or news from JD.”
When Harlan had caught up with Jackson again the previous night, and had finally come clean about the list, he’d also thought he should share about JD wanting the astrolabe, too. It wasn’t as if he’d told him anything about who JD really was, but he was starting to cling to Jackson like he was a life raft in the ocean, and reasonably full disclosure seemed important. But being asked to keep an eye on the order seemed risky. He had no wish to meet Black Cronos again. “Me? Haven’t you got guys who do this?”
“It’s not MI6, Harlan. It’s a small division.” Jackson sounded both impatient and amused.
“But they’re on to me,” he pointed out, feeling Jackson was playing fast and loose with his life.
Jackson fell silent for a moment, and then said, “Yes, fair enough. Just any info on JD then, and the call to Gabe.”
Harlan sighed with relief. “Okay. I’ll call Gabe now.”
For a few moments, in the silence that followed the call, Harlan wondered if he’d gone mad, and then chided himself. He had wanted to be more involved, so here was his chance. He called Gabe quickly, taking advantage of the quiet alley, noting only a sole kitchen worker ducking out of a bar’s back door to smoke a cigarette, and when Gabe picked up, he relayed Jackson’s news, and asked him about the possible issue with Barnaby.
“But look, Gabe, the fact that Black Cronos members were at Barnaby’s last night might just mean they are following all key players, just in case one of them can lead them to you guys. We shouldn’t jump to conclusions.”
Gabe swore loudly and promised to call him back, leaving Harlan loitering uncomfortably for a few minutes, but when he did return the call, he had news.
“That stupid oaf Aubrey confessed that he has been talking to bloody Barnaby Armstrong! Thank fuck I didn’t tell him the address. He swears he hasn’t called since we’ve arrived. I’ve taken his bloody phone anyway—and Caldwell’s.”
“Shit.” Harlan leaned against the alley wall. “Barnaby is sounding more and more suspicious. Just out of curiosity, who’s the other Senior Adept who has the codes, and why aren’t I checking him out?”
“It’s Henri Durand, and seeing as he’s in Devon, I thought it might be tricky. However, I haven’t completely ruled him out,” Gabe said.
“No, best not to,” Harlan mused. “But I can’t see Henri being the mole.” Another thought struck him. “Are you sure you can trust Aubrey and Caldwell? One of those two could be secretly working for Black Cronos.”
“Don’t make me even more paranoid,” Gabe remonstrated.
“Are you sure they haven’t spoken to anyone else in the order?”
“Aubrey swears only Barnaby, and that Barnaby would have told no one. But—”
“Yeah, yeah, he could be lying, too. I must go, Gabe, but I’ll pass this on to Jackson.”
Ash had situated himself at the wooden table under the vine-covered shelter with a selection of books. He had a view of the vineyards from here, and the small park with the trees to the right. He could see his brothers and Shadow in the distance, and didn’t envy them being out in the full sun for so long.
Aubrey and Caldwell were at the other end of the table, looking mutinous after Gabe had thundered through there an hour ago, asking questions about Barnaby. Both of them had fiercely defended him, but now, after hushed conversations, they were looking very worried. Caldwell had raked his hands through his mane of hair and looked like a bewildered puppy that couldn’t find his toy. Aubrey, however, seemed to be flushed with both annoyance and the temperature. Unlike Ash, who had spent his entire life in the heat of the Mediterranean and the Middle East, he was sure the two Englishmen weren’t so used to it.
Ash sipped his water and decided to keep out of their disagreement. He returned to the text in front of him. This particular book was a couple of hundred years old, written by a member of the order who was piecing their history together. It seemed that every hundred years or so, one of them did. An effort to reclaim and reinterpret their past glories. It was written in ink in mostly legible writing, but portions of it were scrawled, suggesting the pressure of time, or maybe the flow of ideas. Also, sections appeared to be copied from more historic texts, and were written in old French. Neither Aubrey nor Caldwell had understood it well, and Ash had offered to try.
The truth was that once he studied it, he translated it easily, but it was less the words than the message within them that was confusing. Ash was pretty sure that the text had been copied from a much older document, written much closer to the time of the order’s beginnings, when it had just split from Seekers of the Morning Star.
A name made him pause. Mithra, the ancient God of Persia, now called Iran. The document referred to a chamber of worship beneath a hill, sealed to contain the power within. He searched the text again, wondering if he’d got it wrong. Or had the scribe copied the original text inaccurately? And what had this got to do with the large planetary alignment that was starting tonight, but would be at its most accurate tomorrow when Aubrey and Caldwell were planning to read the astrolabe?
Mithra was an old and powerful God who had gone through many incarnations. He was powerful in Ash’s time; his places of worship spread far and wide, especially in Persia, and he knew from his reading that he had been popular with the Romans, who called him Mithras. He was a Sun God, and was rumoured to be the inspiration for Jesus Christ. His birthday—or day of rebirth—fell on the winter solstice. From what he could remember about Mithras, he was linked with bulls. According to some histories, a bull was sacrificed to him, or Mithras killed the bull himself. But he was sure that was a later addition by the Romans. He’d also been adopted by various groups, particularly soldiers, and because of that association, he was also linked to Mars, the God of War—one of the planets in the planetary alignment.
Ash sat back in his seat, both bewildered and excited. The Romans had marched through many countries, sweeping up religions, adopting them under their fold, and spreading their own. They were generous like that, and it was sensible, because they were accepted more easily. There could be old Mithraic chambers close by, long sealed shut, their secrets shuttered. Was it one of these that the Seekers of the Morning Star had used? Alchemical experiments that toyed with an ancient Sun God?
“Focus,” Ash muttered to himself, looking again at the French scrawl, and he settled in once more.
Shadow had volunteered to cook once they had completed their inspection of the château, and was pleased that Barak had offered to help.
She watched him through the open window as he set up the barbecue at the end of the terrace, not far from the long table where Ash, Aubrey, and Caldwell were still studying. He lit the briquettes with a flourish while she prepared everything in the cavernous kitchen. Ash had brought a mountain of meat from the local supermarket earlier that afternoon, plenty of salad, and fresh, crusty bread. It would have felt like a party if only the threat of attack wasn’t hanging over them.
When Barak re-entered the kitchen, he frowned at Shadow. “What’s with Gabe? He looks furious!”
“I believe he found out that Aubrey had been speaking to Barnaby, the Secretary. Ash told me when I took them some beers.”
“Seriously? Despite our warning?”
She rolled her eyes and started to chop the salad with relish. “Yes. Although, he insists he hasn’t given the address.”
Barak shook his head as he reached into the fridge and pulled out half a dozen steaks and pieces of chicken. “I know it’s nice to have confidence in your friends, but it does seem stupid—all things considered.”
