The Romulus Equation (17 page)

Viktor felt his way along the tunnel wall in the darkness, searching for a familiar set of broad shoulders. ‘Cornelius, what does he mean? What is his affliction?'

Quaint spun around. ‘Oh, you were right earlier. He is a werewolf.'

Viktor's bushy moustache barely twitched. ‘Ah.'

‘
Ah
?' asked Quaint. ‘Ah what?'

‘Nothing. Just Ah.'

‘What is wrong with you, Viktor? I tell you that Romulus is a werewolf and all I get is an “Ah”? Don't you find the fact that he might grow fangs and fur and howl at the moon just a little implausible?'

‘Certainly not!' Viktor trumpeted. ‘I have met werewolves before. In the Black Forest when I was a younger man. Fearsome looking woman, she was. Voracious appetite. All her body covered in fur.'

‘What makes you think she was a werewolf?' asked Quaint.

‘She howled,' said Viktor. ‘And almost took a bite out of me too.'

‘Your penchant for hirsute women notwithstanding, Viktor, isn't it still a stretch of your imagination to accept that Romulus is a bloody werewolf?'

Viktor rested his hand on Quaint's shoulder. ‘Remind me to take you to my home village one day. There are many things in the forests that should not exist: witches, spirits, demons, and all kinds of nightmares. But considering our present course of action, we might need all the help we can get.'

If Destine had expected Renard's authority to create an unhindered pathway straight to Baron Remus, she was wrong. For all his bluster, he was still naught but a drone. No higher up the food chain than the men guarding the outside doors, and once they were through it came another pair of guards, these men dressed in dark red robes, their hooded faces completely in shadow. They carried long spears with three-pronged tips like tridents and they clashed them together to bar Destine's progress. Neither spoke, nor did they need to. Their intent was all too clear.

‘We are expected,' Renard told the men and they removed their spears, permitting the small band entry into the Hive.

In truth, Destine had little in the way of a plan from here on. Her premonitions had warned her that Cornelius was soon to face great pain, and she had stumbled blindly into the fire to save him; ignoring the possibility that perhaps he could not be saved. Such was her devotion. Such was her love. Although not his birth mother, she had guided him and taught him, loved him, cared for him, and even cried with him. But Cornelius was no longer a child, she reminded herself. He was a grown man and quite capable of getting himself out of (and into) trouble. But this time things were different. What Cornelius was about to face was a far bigger challenge than anything he had faced before. Why had she come? What possible help could she be when the outcome was inevitable? She had convinced herself that she was the only one who could save him, but she could do nothing but pick up the pieces of his shattered world, just as she had done once before.

Renard ordered Prometheus to stop as they came to a steep flight of carpeted stairs, quite at odds with the rest of the foundry. It was as if they had taken one step out of the darkness and into the light. Flaming torches were affixed to the wall, and large rectangular windows let the moonlight flood in. The stairs were not part of the original foundry's design. Far too new, far too sumptuous.

‘The private quarters of the inner stratum lie up these stairs,' said Renard. ‘I will guide you to Sirona.'

‘Who is this Sirona?' demanded Destine. ‘We are seeking Remus!'

Prometheus decided to add a little of his own persuasiveness, and he clamped his thick hand around Renard's neck. ‘I don't need all my fingers to squeeze, you know.'

‘The door at the far end!' gasped Renard. ‘There you will find answers about Cornelius's fate, I swear it!'

‘Aiden, release him!'

‘But, Destine, what if he's lying?'

‘He is not,' said Destine, suddenly ashen with fear. ‘I can sense it.'

Renard grinned. ‘You're almost there… aren't you, Mother? You suspect… but you know that it cannot possibly be true. Now you're beginning to see why I was so eager to guide you here. You and Sirona have so much in common.'

The room was silent and still as Destine gingerly entered first. The thick curtains that draped from ceiling to floor held all the moonlight at bay. With torn strips of his scarf tied around his broken fingers, Prometheus virtually dragged Renard into the room and closed the door behind him, flopping the Frenchman down into a chair by the door.

‘My Lady?' Renard called out.

There was a stifled cough from the far end of the room and Destine took one cautious footstep at a time. As her eyes slowly adjusted, she made out the vague outline of a four-poster bed at the far end of the room.

‘Well, go on, Mother… she won't bite!' laughed Renard.

Destine resumed her tentative steps, and had taken but one when there was a flash of amber light from a struck match. The flame glided towards the wick of a candle, illuminating the withered form of an old woman sitting in a wheelchair by the window.

‘Destine,' said Lady Sirona, ‘I must say this is a surprise… but then I know how much you fortune-tellers love surprises.'

‘
You
!' Destine gasped, her hand darting to her mouth.

‘Madame?' asked Prometheus. ‘You…
know
this old bat?'

‘And look, you've brought company, how charming!' chimed Sirona, her spirit evidently not as incapacitated as her physical form. ‘And rather uncouth company by the sounds of him. Monsieur Renard, I am glad to see that you are still alive.'

‘Only just,' said Renard, hissing in pain as he rose to his feet, wincing with each limping step. ‘My Lady,' Renard lifted his arm, displaying the seeping wound to his stomach, ‘I have been shot.'

Sirona's dry lips formed a wry smile. ‘Cornelius?'

‘Actually, it was my mother.'

‘And speaking of which… where is Cornelius? I expected him to be with you.'

‘My Lady, I… I was under the impression that he was already here. Is that not so?'

‘If he is, then he has yet to introduce himself,' said Sirona. ‘What made you think he was here?'

Renard jerked his head in Destine's direction. ‘Her premonitions.'

‘That's the thing about being able to see the future… it is unreliable at the best of times.' Sirona redirected her stare back at Destine, who was still paralysed. ‘Oh, Madame, do snap out of it. You look like you've just seen a ghost.'

Romulus halted so abruptly that every man behind him crashed into the one in front like a line of dominoes.

‘Here!' he announced in the darkness, his fingers feeling something embedded into the stone wall of the tunnel. ‘There is a hidden door here. It must be the point of entry into the Hades Consortium's lair.'

Quaint bustled through the throng to his side. ‘Careful, Romulus. There could be a platoon of fifty Consortium guards waiting for us on the other side.'

‘We did not come all this way only to slow our pace now that we have reached our destination, Cornelius!' snapped Romulus, clear that he was going to open the door no matter what the conjuror's opinion was.

Quaint rubbed the fine bristle on his jaw, trying to coax the embers of a plan into life. ‘All right. Here's what I think we should so. Romulus, your brother is our primary target, but he could be anywhere inside this place. We'll need to move quietly if we want to avoid any guards.'

‘Avoid them?' snorted Viktor. ‘But Cornelius, you said this Hades Consortium is evil. Surely whilst you and Romulus are busy hunting this demon, the rest of us can do far more damage!'

‘Such as?' enquired Quaint.

‘
Destroy
this place!' boomed Viktor. ‘Burn it to ashes and kill anyone that stands in our way!'

Quaint shook his head. ‘That won't work. Have you never heard of the Hydra? The only way to destroy the Hades Consortium is to hunt every member of its inner stratum to extinction. My present score happens to be one and counting, as it goes.'

Romulus interceded. ‘I have accumulated much knowledge about the Hades Consortium. I have made it my business to know all about it, and I have something that might be better served in your hands. Back at St Vincentine's in my chambers I have a list of names, those that make up the inner stratum. If we survive this, it might be of use to— Wait!' he said, his hands flat against the wooden door. ‘I hear the thunder of footsteps!' Anxious moments passed before the footsteps dissipated. ‘They seem to have gone. We were lucky this time, my friends. But we must not hang about.' He shoved his shoulder against the door, feeling it budge only slightly. ‘I think it will yield… but not by my strength alone.' Romulus was thankful for the cloak of darkness; for he felt his features contort as he called his bestial side into being. Waves of energy surged into his muscles as the beast inside him awoke.

Pushing his fingers into the narrow gap between the door and its frame, he dug away at the wood. Fighting against his instincts to cut loose, he scored his claws deeper. Chunks of wood and masonry fell to the ground. With an almighty wrench, he pulled the entire door from its hinges, casting it onto the ground behind him.

‘Quickly,' he hissed. ‘Once free… the beast is hard to tame.'

The group went through the door and found themselves in an enclosed tunnel not all that dissimilar to the one they had just left. All that was different was the light. An array of lit torches was fixed along the length of the tunnel wall. The group of infiltrators squinted, fighting against the contrast in light.

‘There!' said Quaint, pointing to a large crevice in the tunnel wall, bathed in shadow. ‘We're only going to run straight into trouble if we go blundering about blind. We need to focus on Remus. Romulus, can you sense him in your present form?'

Romulus nodded. ‘
Si
, but if I can sense him…'

‘… then he can sense you,' completed Quaint. ‘We'd better keep our eyes open.'

They had walked not fifty yards along the winding stone tunnel when it began to open up considerably. The darkness was gone now, denied by the flaming torches. At least they could see where they were going, but this also came with its drawbacks. With such an open space to keep watch on and no shadows, there was nowhere to hide. As they rounded a bend they came face to face with a group of around twenty Hades Consortium guards. Clad in their long red robes from head to foot, they each carried a heavy sword at their waists. There was a kind of awkward silence between the two factions as they each considered their options.

‘We're outnumbered,' said Romulus.

‘But not outmatched,' said Quaint.

As Quaint and Romulus's band began trading blows with the guards, Viktor snatched at his belt. Three knives had left his hands in between breaths, each one finding its target with unrivalled accuracy. The ensuing battle was clumsy and vicious, with the Consortium guards remaining a solid unit as Romulus's band punched, kicked, slashed and stabbed their way through them. Quaint picked up a handful of dirt and threw it into his opponent's eyes, following it up with a crack to the blinded guard's jaw. Wrestling the blade from his foe's hands, Romulus brought the edge of the sword down onto the guard's neck.

‘We do not have time for this, Cornelius!'

‘I couldn't agree more!' yelled Quaint, elbowing a guard in the face. ‘But there are so many of them and we won't get any further unless we deal with them.'

There was a sudden scream, and all eyes that could darted to the origins. One of Romulus's men was impaled upon a sword, his guts squeezing themselves out of the wound. Giuseppe thrashed wildly with a dagger towards the guard's chest, who spun quickly, spearing him in the heart. Another of Romulus's men fell just as quickly. Knocking his opponent unconscious, Quaint lashed out with his boot heels, breaking the guard's nose. With a swift flick of his wrist, slashing right through his robes, Romulus's claws gouged open the guard's chest. Romulus panted heavily, his claws tainted with blood. He roared, thrashing wildly with his claws into the dead guard, tearing him to pieces.

Quaint rushed over and clamped his hands on Romulus's shoulders. ‘That's enough! Let's not have ourselves too much fun, eh?'

Romulus cursed as he realised his actions. ‘I… killed him.'

‘And he would have done the same to you,' said Quaint. ‘Pull yourself together, man! Taking down a whole platoon is bound to get noticed sooner or later so we need to finish this off and then get out of here!'

‘
Si
,' said Romulus, tensing his bloodstained hand into a fist. ‘To Remus.'

‘To Remus!' cheered Quaint.

It had been some time since Madame Destine had been able to speak.

Prometheus had no idea what was happening around him. All he could do was stare at her, watching as her hands shook uncontrollably.

‘Why did I not foresee this?' she said.

Lady Sirona wheeled herself over to Destine's side, eager to witness the woman's pain up close. ‘Fate is not always as clearly defined as you clairvoyants like to think, my dear Destine. It was a brave, yet ultimately foolhardy act of yours, coming to this place. And for that you must be punished.' She reached behind her and pulled out a small brass bell, shaking it back and forth. As the sound rang out, a group of four Hades Consortium guards rushed in.

Destine and Prometheus were surrounded.

‘Now, my Lady Sirona… if you please,' said Renard, pointing to his stomach. ‘I am in
agony
here.'