Blood Infernal: The Order of the Sanguines Series (42 page)

“How can any killing be
right
?” Rhun asked.

Francesca folded her thin hands. “We only take the blood from those who are suffering or those who inflict suffering upon others.”

“Our purpose is to
end
suffering,” Hugh expounded. “We find those who are in terrible pain and wish to die. Those who are so wracked with disease and will never recover. We end their lives with mercy, grace, and joy.”

As a priest, Rhun had spent time with the dying. While he balked at such a concept as killing as an act of mercy, he knew how man had created technology to stave off death, but so often it seemed these methods were used to extend suffering, to prolong an inevitable end to an unnatural length.

Hugh sighed. “And when we can find no others, we sometimes take the lives of those who inflict suffering on the innocent. Rapists, murderers. But in truth, we rarely need to resort to such means. Like I said, we sustain ourselves on as little blood as possible.”

Jordan spoke up, reminding them that this was not why they had come. “All well and good, but what about those other two stones?”

“I am in possession of one of the stones,” Hugh admitted. “But it must be earned. To prove you are worthy to bear it from here.”

“Earned how?” Jordan asked.

“Your Woman of Learning must show her worth.” Hugh’s eyes settled on Erin. “She must prove her grasp of
awareness
to find where the stone has been hidden—and demonstrate her
mindfulness
to discover where it must be taken.”

5:07
P
.
M
.

Great
, Erin thought sardonically.
Should be a walk in the park
.

On the helicopter flight, she had read up on Hugh de Payens and his history with the Knights Templars, but she likely hadn’t learned even a tenth of what she might need to know to face his challenge.

Hugh stood up from his stool, sending the injured fox back to his den in the shadows. “So, Woman of Learning, what can you tell me of this place?”

She glanced around the surrounding chapels, vaults, and walls, noting the crosslike shape typical of all great churches, but her gaze settled on the most unique detail: the roof.

“Medieval churches aren’t my specialty,” she admitted. “But some of these decorations are similar to those at St. Christophe’s Chapel in Montsaunes, France, a building built by the Templars, the order you founded.”

“I remember that chapel’s construction.”

She took this as a positive sign and studied the frescoes above more attentively. Was this the test of her
awareness
? Was she supposed to decipher the riddle up there?

Tilting her head, she searched for clues. Amid the kaleidoscope of red stars and blue wheels overhead, other fanciful designs had been painted there: moons, suns, and a variety of geometric shapes. She saw influences from both Islamic and Egyptian culture. That multispoked wheel definitely looked Buddhist. Her eyes began to blur at the sheer volume, the disharmony of its design.

Staring up, she suspected this was done purposefully, to make the viewer miss the forest for the trees. It would indeed require
awareness
to ignore the chaos and see through to the inner truth.

She stared up and slowly stripped each culture’s iconography from that vast fresco, turning it in her mind’s eye, judging it on its own. Unfortunately, she found nothing significant in this exercise. She wondered if these were examples of the cultures that Hugh had visited after leaving the Church. Cardinal Bernard said Hugh had traveled much of the globe before settling in France.

But how does that help me?
She closed her eyes.
What am I not seeing?

Then she knew.

She opened her eyes, clearing those symbols off the roof, looking for the truth hidden behind the noise, behind the cacophony of mankind.

The forest behind the trees.

Once the fanciful decorations were stripped away in her mind’s eye, only one display was still left painted up there, in the background of the clutter.

The stars
.

They were eternal.

“Paper,” she said, holding out an arm. “And a pen.”

Rhun rummaged through her pack and passed her a notebook and a ballpoint. She set about mapping those stars, noting the constellations. Several were larger, more prominently displayed. The stars painted in those constellations were six-pointed, not five like the others.

As she worked, she heard Jordan confront Hugh. “Why can’t you just tell us?”

“It is a test,” Hugh repeated adamantly. “The trio must show themselves to be worthy.”

“Then what’s my test?” Jordan pressed.

“You already passed it. In the forest, you sacrificed yourself without a fight, proving you were a Warrior who could achieve his goals through peace and nonviolence.”

“Then what about my test?” Rhun asked.

“It came with you.” Hugh bowed his head toward the cub. “You, a Knight of Christ, took pity and mercy on a creature you believed to be born of darkness, defying the edicts of your order to kill it on sight. For such mercy, you came away with a miracle of light and grace.”

And now it’s my turn
.

Erin suddenly wished she had gotten a simpler test. But she was the Woman of Learning. She must figure this out on her own.

She did a final comparison between the star map painted on the ceiling and what she had copied down. Satisfied, she headed back to Hugh with notebook in hand. She felt like a student coming to the front of the class to solve a problem on the blackboard.

“It’s the stars,” she said. “That’s what you wanted me to be
aware
of through all that noise above.”

Hugh smiled, but remained silent.

I’m on the right track
.

She remembered a Hermetic principle often associated with the Knights Templar:
As above, so below.
Stars had been a tool for navigation since the beginning of civilization, to use the positions of the stars above, to find meaning down here on earth.

She worked it out aloud, pacing. “I’m supposed to figure out
where
on earth this sky would be visible, but to do that I would need to know which
date
this particular sky would appear.”

She studied her page in the notebook. The more prominent constellations depicted above were those associated with spring:
Cancer, Leo, Virgo
. . .

So this must be a
spring
sky.

Then she remembered what had been painted beneath the mural at Edward Kelly’s house, the one showing a mountain lake and all hell breaking loose. Elizabeth had translated the Czech writing below:
vernal equinox
.

Perhaps that was the answer, but she wanted confirmation. She frowned, remembering seeing Latin words painted on the ceiling. She half-ran, searching anew, stirring up the straw on the floor. She felt eyes on her, both from her party and those that glowed a deep crimson. Finally, she found the inscription, one painted in red on the eastern side of the church, the other in blue on the western side.

Two words.

Aequus
and
Nox
.

She closed her eyes with relief.

Equinox
.

She joined the others, her legs shaking. “It’s the spring equinox. That’s the date.” She waved her notebook to encompass the star map. “So I have to figure out where in the world this particular night sky is visible during tomorrow’s equinox.”

From his back pocket, Jordan pulled out his cell phone, slipping it from a waterproof plastic bag. “I’ve got an app for that. Any good soldier keeps a means of navigation handy.”

Erin glanced to Hugh to make sure it was kosher to use this technology.

He shrugged.

She held her page open for Jordan. “Can you map this?”

“I’ll try.” He took a snapshot with his phone, then spent some time fiddling with the application program, apparently trying to find a match. “Already I can tell that the constellation of Leo is in the
wrong
place up there. At least for the skies over France.”

“Then find out where it’s
right
,” she urged.

She noted Hugh looking quizzically at her, as if she were missing something.

So the teacher wants me to earn extra points
.

She pursed her lips and returned her attention to the ceiling, picking through the constellations, especially focusing on the spring ones. Three of the lesser spring constellations were connected together, woven by flowing lines.

Hydra, Crater,
and
Noctua
.

“The snake, the cup, and the owl,” she mumbled, naming the shapes they represented. She had no trouble understanding the significance.
The snake likely represents Lucifer, the cup could easily be the Chalice mentioned in the prophecy, and the owl had been the symbol of knowledge across many cultures, going back eons
.

She glanced to her pack. The Blood Gospel was prophesied to have all the knowledge of the universe locked between its covers. She returned her attention above, noting the smaller lines that formed fanciful curlicues and whorls around the three constellations, weaving them together.

“They’re connected together into one whole,” Erin said.

A glance revealed a broad, congratulatory smile on Hugh’s face. She wanted to smack that smug look off him and get some real answers.

Luckily Jordan interrupted, holding up his phone. “Got it!”

She moved closer.

“Here’s the night sky over France.”

She looked at the screen, seeing that he had labeled the constellation Leo.

“We’re at about latitude forty-three,” he explained. “This time of year, Leo should be at the westernmost edge of the sky, but clearly it’s not in the star map on the ceiling.”

She looked to the roof, recognizing how different that star map was up there. “Then
where
on the planet does it match this sky?”

“Far to the east, about twenty-eight degrees north latitude.”

“Could it be Tibet?” Erin asked. “Or maybe Nepal?”

Jordan whistled his appreciation and held up his phone for her to see, revealing the name that his phone app had pulled up.

KATMANDU, NEPAL

27°30'N 85°30'E

“Keep in mind,” Jordan cautioned, “this is a rough approximation. But that’s the region of the world referenced above. Basically it could be anywhere in the Himalayas.”

Erin pictured the mural painted on Kelly’s wall, showing a trio of mountains surrounding a dark lake. It must be somewhere in the Himalayan range of Nepal.

But where?

“How did you already guess Nepal?” Rhun asked her.

“Because of the wheels and the stars on the ceiling. They’re Buddhist symbols. Of all the cultures depicted above, they’re the most numerously represented.” Erin talked quickly now, certain of what she was saying. “That wagon wheel over there is Buddha’s wheel of transformation. The rim is limitation, the hub represents the world, and the eight spokes are the Noble Eightfold Path, which is what you need to tread to end suffering.”

Erin turned to Hugh, challenging him. “That’s where you learned your meditation techniques, wasn’t it? You went east, during your travels before you settled in France. You learned these techniques from Buddhists monks.”

Hugh bowed his head in acknowledgment.

Rhun frowned. “But how could Buddhists help you deal with your cursed nature?”

“Because the monks were
strigoi
themselves.”

Shock rang through the Sanguinists’ faces, even Elizabeth’s, but hers settled into a look more curious than horrified.

Hugh looked up at the lit windows. “After I left the Church, I wandered for many years, trying to make sense of what I was. I followed legends of eternal monks rumored to reside in the Far East, immortals like ourselves. I endured great hardship to find them, but always I was directed onward, until eventually I reached a valley between three peaks where I would learn much about my nature and the nature of the world.”

Into the stunned silence that followed, Elizabeth spoke. “And you left a record of that, didn’t you?”

Hugh lifted his brows in surprise, likely a rare expression for the man. “I did.”

Elizabeth turned to Erin, as if she should know this, too.

Then she did.

Three peaks
.

Everything fell into place in her head.