Hope & Fury (Heroes & Demons Book 2)

The fight with Cyvus and his friend, Lotus, had been swift but largely uneventful. More of a tussle. Andrew was able to disarm, their distraction technique worked and both had ended up with a definitive conk to the head with the butt of Lotus’ stupid rifle. They had bickered briefly about whether or not to tie them up – though knowing full well Cyvus would be able to snap himself free and Lotus would likely melt them right off his body.

Eventually, they settled on throwing them into the empty pool and leaving them there. It was deep and even at six foot – so they would get out eventually – or with co-operation. They started the car and headed off.

The town of Mosta was not far at all but the urgency all of them felt made it seem to last a lifetime. That and the uncertainty and unknown factors of Louise and Sandy made them only all the more anxious. Angel provided cover above, hopefully spotting any problems – or a scarpering Spaniard with an ancient artefact – before they did. Rick knew Ruth would have a field day but at the moment did not give a flying monkey.

“We don’t even know this is where he was going,” Andrew reminded him for the tenth time, Rick was doing the driving.

“Sure,” he agreed, “But given the way half this traffic seems to be stopped for no reason, I think something is going on here – wouldn’t you agree?”

It was even worse than he’d said, the traffic was at a standstill going into the town of Mosta. No one was moving, a few people were stood outside their cars milling around and a lot of people were rubbing their necks in a tried and tested symbol of ‘free money’. So Rick stopped trying, pulled over to one side and jumped out of the jeep.

They jogged the rest of the way, Angel disappearing briefly only to reappear as they got to the edge of the square surrounding the Rotunda. Rick looked up and saw briefly him standing on the edge of the nearest rooftop, an unconscious but recognisable form in his arms. He held tightly onto the feeling in the pit of his stomach, refused to let it drop.

“Is she…?” he asked into his earpiece.

“She seems to be unconscious,” Angel replied, clinically, “I can only see minor damage. She will be fine.”

“Wait there,” he ordered, “Keep on the earpieces, anything changes or anyone shows up – let us know. Keep her safe.”

A nod was all he needed and he and Andrew were across the square and up the steps of the church. That they were too late was obvious not only from the cracks of the outside peach façade but also from the state of the door – which at best could be referred to as smithereens. They shared a look and entered, cautiously.

The damage to the outside was nothing compared to that done inside. Ribbons of cracks slid their way across every surface, tile hanging off in bits from the walls. The chairs had radiated out to break in pieces against each part of the exposed wall – even the altar was barely recognisable under the destruction. The floor was gone, the edge almost coming to the edge of the rotunda itself. A gaping hole had opened up, crumbled remains filling some of the spaces around a cavern.

The hole must have been thirty feet deep, though the crumbled remains of the floor appeared to make a decent enough slope down to the dirt floor.

The most startling thing was the pyramid, approximately the height of the depression in the floor, its peak must have been touching the floor above. Three sides of smooth limestone rose from the dirt.

“I must admit that is both what I was expecting and not what I was expecting,” he admitted, “the Second Temple is a pyramid?”

“We don’t know that it is the second temple for all we know this could have been constructed first,” Andrew reminded him.

Rick made his way cautiously down the slope while Andrew, ever the show-off, appeared down without a fuss. He was about to make a comment when once again his breath was taken away – this time by the large opening on the side of the pyramid.

“Okay, so we’re thinking he went in there?” he asked, stupid question because he already knew the answer. Rick looked at his companion an added, “What are the chances this is just a really small pyramid?”

Andrew peered through the opening and indicated to a series of steps leading downwards.

“Something tells me this is just the tip of the iceberg.”

Rick was the first to step in, glad finally that they had changed into their BioSuits before he’d left and he was able to turn on the lights on his belt. The same twisted version of déjà vu he’d felt in the Lost Library began to steal over him again there. That the builders of this monument were no doubt the same as those of the Temple was not in question. Their intentions, the motivations of those long dead were unknowable – and given everything they had been through so far – were highly questionable.

The steps went down for ages, not spiralling but turning back and forth. They would run one direction, then turn one hundred and eighty degrees in the other. He’d lost count and all sense of direction by the time they finally turned and opened up into the first larger chamber.

“How deep are we?” he asked, but Andrew shook his head. He too must have lost all sense of the outside world.

“Bloody hell, look at this place,” Andrew muttered, more to himself. He could see what he meant, the room they were in was covered walls, ceiling and flaw with the same flawless tiny scrawl presumably in the same language as the main Temple – a form of Latin. The similarities were eerie but the differences were more striking – there was no burning torches or sense of anything but darkness and cold. If the Temple had eventually shown itself to have some life, this echoed of the long since dead.

He caught Andrew trying to read some of it and had to glare – they were running out of time. He could sense it in the same way you sense a coming storm, in your bones as the old folks would say.

The room they were in had three exits – behind them to the steps they had descended from – and then left or right fork from where they were standing. Rick was about to make a crass comment, without knowing what form it would take – until he spotted a familiar shape carved above one of the doorways.

“I think we’ll take door number two,” he optioned. They did, the passageway sloping instead of stepped, gradually working them down through two more rooms where each time it was the same – cold, dead, inscriptions across every available surface and a carved orb to guide their way.

The third and final slope downwards found them at their destination. He knew before they arrived, from the faint shimmering shifting glow coming from in front. When it was light enough to light their way they switched off their own to mask their arrival – if they could.

The edges of the room swept away and they were in a cavernous hall. They could see it all, through the flowing light of the orb placed lovingly on a pedestal – just as how they had originally found it. Only now its pulses were dimmed, seemed far less inviting. As if it no longer needed to entice – as if its purpose was done.

The only sight of disturbance was the pile of discarded scruffy clothing piled by the base of the pedestal, Rick began to wonder if they had completely missed everything. Then wondered why things hadn’t gone completely to hell.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Ben’s voice floated out of the darkness. “The glowing heart of Atlantis?”

His voice echoed around the chamber, reverberating with grand reverence. A movement in the shadows of the left-hand fork saw the familiar face float forward, as he joined them. The last remnants of skin poking through on his biceps slowly disappeared under a growing metallic armour that blockbuster-style across them, gleaming reddish-gold in the diffuse light. When seen in whole it looked not unlike their BioSuits, though far more grand and militarial in design.

“Bloody good luck someone left this around for me,” he continued, indicating to his armour. “I was worried for a time that it would be gone, stuck in some museum somewhere – or worse the private collection of some bumptious bore with more money than sense. Of course, I don’t think anyone’s been down here for quite some time. Thank God for lost cities, eh?”

“Ben…” Rick began, but he was silenced by a shake of the head.

“Guess again.”

Andrew did not leave time for guessing, he disappeared, preparing his attack. But the man who claimed not to be Ben simply snapped out a hand and even as Andrew reformed had his hand around his throat. His look never waved from Rick’s, their eyes meeting across the room. It was then Rick finally detected in them a look, a glow that came not from a reflection of the orb but from somewhere within. Somewhere deep, faint but unquestionably there.

“I guess you do deserve to be here, now, at the beginning,” Ben mused, throwing Andrew to the ground in front of him. He threw his arms wide, the walls began to shake, the world began to turn. Andrew scrambled over to join Rick as the shaking only grew in intensity. It was hard to hear Ben add over the roar of rock,

“You won’t be here at the end.”