‘What’s a Christ the Saviour Cathedral in Moscow?’
‘A cathedral on the other side of Europe. Someone found a shaft like this, that’s where the key was found.’
‘Does that mean we found another clue?’
‘I don’t know. Unless … hold up the lantern again. Let’s push against the wall, see if it opens up anywhere.’
They circled back to back in the confined space, pushing against stone. It was solid.
‘Nothing, monsieur.’
‘But there’s fresh air down here. It’s coming from somewhere.’ Harper sank to the floor, felt around the lowest iron rung. ‘Here, the air’s seeping through here. Bring us the lantern.’
Rochat lowered the lantern close to the iron rung. Harper touched his palms to the stone, felt air seeping through microscopic holes drilled through rock. He pulled at the rung, it shifted a bit.
‘This is it, give us a hand.’
Rochat set the lantern on the ground and scrunched down next to Harper. They grabbed the rung.
‘One, two, three.’
They pulled hard, a metre-square section of stone separated from the wall. A gust of sweet air rushed at their faces. They leaned down, saw a small iron gate set back in the rock face.
‘It looks much older than the door in the well, monsieur.’
‘And there’s not a nick on it.’ Harper saw a multi-pointed slot cut in the door. He patted his pockets. ‘Bollocks, I forgot to bring the key.’
‘
Pas grave
, I imagined we’d need it.’
‘Sorry?’
Rochat pulled it from inside his overcoat and handed it to him.
‘That’s damn good imagining.’
‘
Merci
.’
Harper held the key to the lock.
‘It fits, but all the slots in the lock are of equal length. Which way does it go?
‘We can guess because that’s what detectivemen do.’
‘True.’
Harper slipped the key in the lock, jiggled it left and right, nothing. He refitted the key, tried again, nothing. He held the spiked end of the key close to the lantern, saw the one spike a half-centimetre longer than the rest. The iron compass atop the well flashed through his brain, cardinal point of the compass pointing towards first light, not north.
‘Bloody hell, I’m such a dolt. Which way is east?’
Rochat rose to his knees, held his elbows close to his sides, extended his forearms as best he could and twisted from side to side five or six times before pointing in the direction of the iron door.
‘That way.’
‘You sure?’
‘
Oui
.’
Harper leaned down to the lock, sat back up.
‘Just out of curiosity, how’d you figure that?’
‘When I was coming down the rope, I counted how many times I twisted around and added it to which way the ladder was.’
‘You like to count things, don’t you?’
‘It helps me imagine other things.’
‘Right, I’ll give it a try sometime. Because so far your imagining is a hell of a lot better than mine.’
Harper turned the key till the longest spike pointed straight up, east as north. He slid the key into the lock and turned …
kaklack
… He pushed against the door. It opened with the greatest of ease and another rush of sweet air hit them in the face. This time it was moist and came on waves of rushing sound.
‘What’s that noise, monsieur?’
‘Sounds like water, lots of it. Didn’t you say Lausanne has its own underground source?’
‘
Oui
.’
‘I think we just found it.’
‘Is that why they made the tunnel?’
‘Probably one of the reasons they made it here.’
‘What’s the other reason?’
‘Let’s find out. Care to have a look with your lantern? Your cathedral and all.’
Rochat didn’t even wait to answer. He twisted to all fours and crawled through the door. Harper heard his voice calling back.
‘It’s another very long tunnel going sideways, monsieur, and it’s very narrow. We need to crawl on our stomachs.’
‘Swell. And it’s dark, I bet.’
‘
Oui
.’ Rochat pulled himself from the tunnel. ‘But there’s a light at the other end.’
‘You must be joking me.’
Something bright fell across her face. She opened her eyes to a luminescent shaft of colour passing slowly over her. Her eyes followed it to the crossing square of the transept, where a raggedy old man stood in the coloured light amid the hundreds of candles set about the flagstones.Katherine sat up and looked him over. Pockmarked skin, yellow teeth, worn-out clothes, coughing up phlegm into a filthy handkerchief. He turned to her.
‘Be not afraid.’
‘I’m not, but who are you?’
‘A messenger.’
She looked at the altar, saw the maquette of the cathedral, the book.
‘Where’s Marc, where’s Harper?’
‘They’ll soon be back. And I want you to tell them something, I want you to tell them, “una salus victis nullam sperare salutem.”’
‘I’m dreaming, aren’t I? That’s why I’m not afraid.’
‘
Sí
, you are dreaming. So the words will be easy for you to remember. “Una salus victis nullam sperare salutem.”’
‘That sounds like Latin.’
‘
Sí
.’
‘I’ll never remember it.’
‘You will, because this is a dream.’
Katherine looked around the nave, saw people standing shadowlike and faceless, but she could feel them watching.
‘What … who are they?’
‘Undying souls waiting to be born into another life.’
‘I don’t understand.’
‘That is how it is done.’
‘How what’s done?’
‘Never-ending life on earth.’ He walked towards her and held out his hand. His skin was cracked and there was dirt under his nails. ‘Come, walk with me.’
She looked up to his face. Scraggly stubble for a beard, his hair hanging in greasy clumps, the brightest eyes. Still she couldn’t help but feel a gentleness from him.
‘Your eyes, they’re so green. The same as Marc and Harper.’
‘Then you know you’re safe with me.’
She gave him her hand, he led her through the burning candles on the flagstones to the centre of the crossing square. He turned her to the south transept. She raised her eyes to the rose window. Each piece of stained glass seeming to ignite like sparks of coloured fire.
‘Gosh, the light … it’s so beautiful.’
He stepped behind her, raised her arms, turned her palms to the window.
‘And you will be the bearer of the light.’
A shaft of colour took shape and cut through the dull grey light in the cathedral, touching the floor and racing over the stones and crossing her feet. She looked into the window, as if standing in the middle of a rainbow. The man stepped in front of her. The brilliant light glowing all around him as he faded into silhouette.
‘Where are you going?’
‘To purify the light before it touches the life within you.
C’est le guet, il a sonné l’heure, il a sonné l’heure
.’
thirty-nine
‘Miss Taylor, Miss Taylor.’
Katherine woke and saw Harper standing over her, Rochat next to him with his lantern in his hand.
‘Hey, I must have dozed off.’
She lifted herself from the wood bench. The blankets slipped from her shoulders. She noticed their clothes covered in dust, the dirt on their hands and faces.
‘What’ve you guys been doing? You’re filthy.’
Rochat looked at Harper, Harper looked at Katherine.
‘Stacking chairs, we were stacking chairs at the doors.’
‘Didn’t you do that already … Marc?’
‘
Oui
?’
‘I just woke up and that lantern’s really bright.’
‘
Pardon
.’
Rochat lowered the lantern. Katherine saw their faces.
‘You’re sunburned, the two of you.’
Harper looked at Rochat, Rochat looked at Katherine, he said the first thing that came into his head.
‘We went on the balconies of the lantern tower to check the doors were locked and the sun is very bright today.’
‘Wait, you guys left me alone? No wonder I was having weird dreams.’
‘Nightmare kind of dreams?’
‘No, Marc, just the run-of-the-mill weird kind.’ She folded the blankets, remembering. ‘I dreamed the sun was coming through that big stained-glass window and this guy was floating in the light. He was saying the words Marc says when he calls the hour. Kind of funny, if you think about it.’
‘What did he look like, Miss Taylor?’
‘What do you mean, “What did he look like?” It was a dream, you know how dreams are.’
‘Actually, I don’t.’
‘What?’
‘Did he look like a tramp?’
Katherine raised an eyebrow.
‘Yeah, how did you know?’
‘What did he say to you?’
‘Gibberish, that’s the way people talk in dreams, the way you’re talking now.’
Harper pulled the blankets from her hands, set them on the bench.
‘Miss Taylor, it’s important. What did he say to you?’
‘What’s going on, Harper?’
He didn’t answer.
‘This comes under the heading of things I wouldn’t understand in a billion years, doesn’t it?’
‘Something like that.’
‘OK.’ Katherine pointed to the burning candles on the crossing square. ‘He was over there. He told me you guys were gone, that you’d be back, and he said something in Latin … “Una salus victis” … something. I told him I’d never remember it.’
‘“Una salus victis nullam sperare salutem.”’
‘Yeah, and now you’re freaking me out.’
‘What else?’
‘Harper …’
‘Tell me.’
‘He took me for a walk.’
‘Where?’
‘On the altar.’
‘Show me.’
‘Harper, it was a dream.’
‘Show me.’
‘Fine.’
She walked to the centre of the crossing square and turned and faced the giant stained-glass window in the south transept wall.
‘He said, “Walk with me,” and he took my hand and led me here, in the middle of these candles.’
‘On that exact spot, dead centre of the altar square?’
‘Yeah, right here. And he held out my arms and turned the palms of my hands towards the window and he told me to watch the light. I remember the sun passed by the stained-glass window and it got really warm. Then there were all these colours. I remember it felt like I was standing in the middle of a rainbow. That’s when he started to float away into the light and he said something about purifying the light to protect the life inside me, me being the bearer of light … don’t stare at me like that, Harper. I told you it was a dream.’
‘What else happened in the dream?’
‘I don’t know. No, I do … everything went bright as the sun and the nave was filled with people watching us. It was really weird because they didn’t have faces, they were just shapes. The tramp said they were the undying souls to be born into a new … Now you’re staring at me, Marc. What is it?’
‘I … I was wondering where my lantern was.’
‘It’s in your hands.’ Rochat looked down to his lantern.
‘Oh.
Merci
.’
‘You know, you two lunatics are acting weirder than the guy in my dream. Sorry, Marc, you’re not a lunatic. It’s just an expression.’
‘
Pas grave
.’
Twelve deep-throated gongs rolled through the nave.
Harper looked at his watch, tapped the crystal. Rochat leaned close to him.
‘Is your watch still broken, monsieur?’
‘No, it’s ticking again, just backwards.’
‘That’s because it’s a cheap watch, Harper. First thing I noticed about you at LP’s.’
The sun crossed the giant rose window, the thousands of pieces of coloured glass sparkled like tiny jewels. Katherine shaded her eyes.
‘And it’s a good thing it was only a dream or that’d make the third time today the sun was going by that window. Man, it’s all so weird, isn’t it?’
Katherine turned, saw the two of them huddled over the wristwatch. She walked close to them. She saw the watch winding back and slowing to a stop and then racing ahead. One thirty, two, three fifteen, three forty. Katherine threw up her hands.
‘OK, I give up. I’m lying back down because, obviously, I’m still dreaming.’
Harper looked at her.
‘Miss Taylor, earlier, do you remember telling me the lad would never leave the cathedral, telling me to get with your dream, Plan B?’
‘Huh?’
‘That’s what I thought. Goodnight.’
‘Huh?’
Harper passed his palm in front of Katherine’s face.
‘“Dulcis et alta …”’
She fell back into Rochat before Harper finished the words. Rochat stumbled, the flame in his lantern flickered.
‘The lantern, mate. Don’t drop it!’
Rochat quickly steadied himself. Still-burning lantern in one hand, collapsed angel in the other.
‘I’ve got them both, monsieur. But why did you—’
A terrible growling wind rose from beyond the cathedral walls, snapping and biting at the stones. Black mist seeped through the spaces under the doors and crawled along the flagstones to snuff out the candles on the crossing square. The light in the nave grew dim and the long shaft of tubular light pouring through the giant stained glass in the south transept wall seemed to slow amid a billion motes of dust. Harper saw the dazed expression crossing Rochat’s face.
‘C’mon, mate, you know how time works. You can see this, just blink.’
Rochat blinked. His eyes seeing the world gone still as a photograph. The unmoving threads of coloured light, the motionless dust, the still-life wisps of smoke from the snuffed candles on the crossing square. Only the flame in his lantern moved. He reached out with a finger and poked at the threads of light hanging in the air. Small concentric waves rippled outward.
‘It’s like throwing a stone in Lac Léman.’
‘If only it was going to be as much fun.’
‘
Pardon?
’
Harper nodded towards the leaded glass in the walls of the chancel. Rochat saw black mist spreading quickly over all the windows and across the giant rose window in the south transept wall. Casting the nave into complete darkness but for the fire in Rochat’s lantern. The growling wind pounded on the doors, sending shock waves through the unmoving world of the cathedral.