“Maybe it’s sealed too tight,” Monk mumbled.
Rachel lit a fresh match.
“Of course,” she continued nervously, “most of the oracles were chalatans. Like turn-of-the-century séances, the soothsayer usually had an accomplice hidden in a secret niche or tunnel.”
“Or under the table,” Gray said. He had squatted by the slab of hematite. He held his match low to the ground. His flame flickered, dancing shadows on the walls. “Hurry.”
There was no need to goad them.
00:15.
That was incentive enough.
Monk and Gray grabbed the edge of the slab, bending with their knees. They heaved up, legs straining.
Kay had dropped to her hands and held a match out. “There’s a narrow tunnel,” she said with relief.
“Get inside,” Gray ordered.
Kat waved Rachel down.
Rachel slid feetfirst through the hole, discovering a stone well. She squiggled down its throat. It took no effort with the steep incline. She slid on her butt. Kat followed next, then Monk.
Rachel craned around, counting in her head. Four seconds remained.
Monk braced the slab with his back. Gray dove headfirst between the man’s planted legs.
“Now, Monk!”
“Don’t have to tell me twice.”
Dropping, Monk let the slab’s weight push him into the chute.
“Down! Down!” Gray urged. “Get as much—”
The explosion cut out further words.
Rachel, still half turned, saw a wash of orange flames lick around the edges of the slab, searching for them.
Monk cursed.
Rachel ignored caution and slid down the chute. It grew steeper and steeper. Soon she was bobsledding down a dank tunnel on her rear end, uncontrolled.
Distantly a new noise intruded.
A rumbling rush of water.
Oh no…
10:25 P.M.
FIFTEEN MINUTES later, Gray helped Rachel climb out of the Tiber River. They shivered on the bank. Her teeth chattered. He hugged her close and rubbed her shoulders and back, warming her as best he could.
“I…I’m okay,” she said, but she didn’t move away, even leaned a bit further into him.
Monk and Kat slogged out of the river, wet and muddy.
“We’d better keep moving,” Kat said. “It’ll help offset hypothermia until we can get into dry clothes.”
Gray set out, climbing the bank. Where were they? The escape chute had dumped into an underground stream. Blind, they had had no choice but to hold tight to one another’s belts and follow the flow of the channel, hoping it would dump them somewhere safe.
Gray had felt some stonework as they proceeded, his arm held out to avoid obstacles. Possibly an ancient sewer line or drainage canal. It had emptied into a maze of channels. They had continued following the downward flow, until at last they had reached a glowing pool, plainly illuminated by reflected light from beyond the underground tunnel. Gray had investigated the pool and discovered a short stone passage that emptied into the Tiber River.
The others had followed, and soon they were all back under the stars with a full moon shining down on the river. They had made it.
Monk squeezed river water from his shirtsleeves, glancing back at the channel. “If they had a goddamn back door, why all the business with the Magi bones?”
Gray had considered the same question and had an answer. “No one could find that back door by chance. I doubt I could even find my way back through that maze. These ancient alchemists hid the next clue in such a manner that the seeker not only had to solve the riddle, but also had to have a basic understanding of the amalgam and its properties.”
“It was a test,” Rachel said, shivering in the slight breeze. Clearly she had also pondered this matter. “A trial of passage before you could move onward.”
“I would’ve preferred a multiple choice test,” Monk said sourly.
Gray shook his head and climbed the bank. He kept his arm around Rachel, helping her. Her continuous shivering slowly subsided to occasional chilled shudders.
They reached the top and found themselves at the edge of a street. A park lay beyond. And farther up the hill, St. Peter’s Basilica glowed golden against the night sky. Up there, sirens blared and emergency lights flickered in hues of red and blue.
“Let’s find out what happened,” Gray said.
“And find a hot bath,” Monk grumped.
Gray didn’t argue.
11:38 P.M.
AN HOUR later, Rachel sat wrapped in a warm, dry blanket. She still wore her damp clothes, but at least the trek here and the heated arguments with a series of stubborn guards had warmed her considerably.
They were all ensconced in the offices of the Holy See’s Secretary of State. The room was decorated with frescoes and outfitted with plush chairs and two long divans that faced each other. Seated around the room were Cardinal Spera, General Rende, and a very relieved uncle.
Uncle Vigor sat beside Rachel, her hand in his. He hadn’t let go since they had broken through the cordon and gained access to this inner sanctum.
They had gone over a preliminary account of events.
“And the Dragon Court is gone,” Gray asked.
“Even the bodies,” Vigor said. “It took us ten minutes to break through the lower door. All we found were some discarded weapons. They must’ve left the way they came in…through the roof.”
Gray nodded.
“At least the bones of Saint Peter are safe,” Cardinal Spera said. “The damage to the basilica and the necropolis can be repaired. If we had lost the relics…” He shook his head. “We owe you all a large debt.”
“And no one in attendance at the memorial service died,” Rachel said, equally relieved.
General Rende held up a folder. “Cuts and bumps, bruises, a few broken bones. More damage was done by the trampling crowd than from the series of quakes.”
Cardinal Spera absently twisted the two gold rings of his station, one on each hand, switching back and forth, a nervous gesture. “What about the cavern below the tomb? What did you find?”
Rachel frowned. “There was—”
“It was too dark to see clearly,” Gray said, cutting her off. He met her eyes, apologetic but firm. “There was a large slab that had some writing on it, but I suspect that the firebomb will have scorched the surface clean. We may never know what was there.”
Rachel understood his reluctance to speak plainly. The head prefect of the Archives had vanished during the confusion, disappearing with the Dragon Court. If Preffetto Alberto worked with the Court, who else might be a part of the conspiracy? Cardinal Spera had already promised to investigate Alberto’s room and private papers. Maybe it would lead somewhere.