Once again i own nothing except lily and her kick but attitude
Chapter 10: the Sleeping God
"Bones," Josh said numbly, looking up and down the tunnel.
Dee strode down the corridor and his sphere of light sent shadows dancing and twitching, making it appear as if the empty eye sockets were moving, following him.
"Are these all human bones?" Josh whispered.
"Yes," Machiavelli said softly, his voice now touched with a trace of his Italian accent. "There are the remains of at least six million bodies down here. Maybe more. The catacombs were originally huge limestone quarries." He jerked his thumb upward. "The same limestone used to build the city. Paris is built over a warren of tunnels."
"How did they get down here?" Josh's voice trembled. He coughed, wrapped his arms tightly around his body and tried to look nonchalant, "They look ancient; how long have they been here?"
"A couple of hundred years only," Machiavelli said, surprising him. "By the end of the eighteenth century, the graveyards of Paris were overflowing. I was in the city then," he added, mouth twisting in disgust. "I'd never seen anything like it. There were so many dead in the city that the graveyards were often just huge mounds of piled earth with bones visible in them. Paris might have been one of the most beautiful cities in the world, but it was also the foulest. Worse than London—and that's saying something!" He laughed, and the sound echoed and reechoed off the bone walls and was distorted into something hideous. "The stink was indescribable, and there truly were rats as big as dogs. Disease was rife and outbreaks of plague were common. Finally, it was recognized that the overflowing graveyards must have something to do with the contagion. So it was decided to empty the graveyards and move the remains down into the empty quarries."
Lily blanched and shuddered "eww" she was a true girly girl too the core.
"Who made the patterns?" Josh asked, pointing to a particularly ornate sunburst design that had been created using human bones of various length to represent the sunbeams.
Machiavelli shrugged. "Who knows? Someone who wished to honor the dead, perhaps; someone trying to make sense out of what must have been incredible chaos. Humans are always looking to make order out of chaos," he added softly.
Josh looked at him. "You call them … us, 'humans.' You both do" He turned to look for Dee, but the Magician had almost reached the end of the corridor and was out of earshot. "Dee calls us humani."
"Don't confuse us with Dee," Machiavelli said with an icy smile.
Lily smirked "we're not as arrogant as him and we never forget that we are humans,"
Josh was confused. Who was the more powerful here—Dee or Machiavelli and Lily? He'd thought it was the Magician, but he was beginning to suspect that the Italian and American were much more in control. "Scathach told us you were more dangerous and more cunning than Dee," he said to Machiavelli, thinking aloud.
Machiavelli's smile turned to a delighted grin. "That's the nicest thing she's ever said about me."
"And she also said that the two of you together meant we might be in real trouble." Josh continued
Lily practically beamed in happiness "she really said that? I'll have to send her a thank you card!"
"Is it true? Are you both more dangerous than Dee?"
Machiavelli took a moment to consider. Then he smiled and the faintest hint of serpent filled the tunnel. "Absolutely."
Lily smiled at Josh and whispered "we don't act before we think, we both have the brains to work through any obstical, Machiavelli is a strategist, he is the one who makes the plans, me, i'm stealthy and tricky i do a good job of being behind the scenes or being in the spotlight. together, we're pretty tough too beat, that doesn't mean we can't be beaten though" she shrugged.
"Hurry; this way," Dr. Dee called back, voice flattened by the narrow walls and low ceiling. He turned and headed off down the bone-lined tunnel, taking the light with him. Josh was tempted to run after him, unwilling to be alone in the utter darkness, but then Machiavelli snapped his fingers and an elegant candle-thin flame of gray-white light appeared in the palm of his hand.
"Not all the tunnels are like this," Machiavelli continued, indicating the neatly set bones in the walls, the regular shapes and patterns. "Some of the small tunnels are simply piled high with assorted bits and pieces."
They rounded a curve in the tunnel and found Dee waiting for them, tapping his foot impatiently. He turned and marched away without saying a word.
Josh concentrated on Dee's back and the globe of light bobbing over his shoulder as they wound deeper and deeper into the catacombs.
"Do people ever come down here?" he asked Machiavelli, making conversation just for the sake of hearing a sound in the oppressive silence.
"Yes. Portions of the catacombs are open to the public," Machiavelli said, holding his hand high, the thin flame picking out the ornate patterns of bones set in the walls, dancing shadows bringing them to flickering life. "But there are many kilometers of catacombs beneath the city, and vast tracts of it have not been mapped. Exploring those tunnels is dangerous and illegal, of course, but people still do it. Those people are called cataphiles. There's even a special police unit, the cataflics, that patrols these tunnels." Machiavelli waved an arm at the surrounding walls, the flame dancing wildly but not extinguishing. "But we'll run into neither group down here. This area is completely unknown. We are deep below the city now, in one of the very first quarries excavated many centuries ago."
"Deep below the city," Josh repeated slowly. "I think," he whispered to Machiavelli, "I think I'd like to head back up to the surface now, if that's OK."
The Italian blinked in genuine surprise. "No, Josh, no, it's not OK." Machiavelli reached out and squeezed Josh's shoulder and the close air in the tunnel was touched with the scent of orange and the rank odor of snake. "It's too late for that," Machiavelli said gently. He lowered his voice to a whisper. "We've gone too deep … there's no turning back. You will leave these catacombs Awakened or …"
"Or what?" Josh asked, when he realized, with a growing sense of horror, how the Italian was going to finish the sentence.
"Or you will not leave them at all," Machiavelli said simply.
Lily put a hand on Josh's shoulder and murmured "you want too talk to get your mind off your claustrophobia?"
Josh nodded, Lily smiled and whispered "what do you want too talk about?"
Josh looked at Lily and whispered "why are you being so kind and open with me?"
Lily looked at Josh in surprise for a moment before smiling "because I can guess that Flamel and Scathach have not been open with you and your sister"
Josh nodded, they came up to a curve on the tunnel and Lily stopped him and made him look at her "Josh, I want you too listen to me very closely okay? Don't trust Dee, no matter what he tells you, don't trust Dee, don't trust Flamel, don't trust Scathach, don't trust me or Niccolò… don't even trust your twin sister, trust only yourself, because there is no one else who will back you up one hundred percent, other than yourself"
Josh looked confused "you trust Niccolò, you and he practically talk about each other like you're a unit not two individuals, why can't I trust Sophie? She's my twin sister"
Lily smiled and shook her head "I don't trust Niccolò always, I have my secrets, just as he has his, I love him dearly, but at the end of the day, I know that the only loyalty I really have is too myself, Sophie might be your twin sister, but she's going to have different opinions from you, and you need to decide what's best for You. I'm not saying you shouldn't trust her at all, I'm saying don't trust her opinions, make your own decisions and ultimately, decide what you need to do, don't believe what people tell you, don't let others influence your decisions, my father once told me that the only way you can be on the wrong side of a war, is if your fighting for a side and cause you don't believe in."
Josh thought about what Lily said and then nodded before they continued on.
They rounded a curve and started down a long arrow-straight tunnel. The walls here were even more ornately decorated in bone but with strange square patterns.
Dee was waiting for them at the end of the tunnel. His gray eyes sparkled in the reflected light, which also lent his skin an unhealthy glow. When he spoke, his English accent had thickened, and the words tumbled so quickly it was difficult to comprehend what he was saying.
"This is now a momentous day for you, boy, a momentous day. For not only will your powers be Awakened, but you will also meet one of the few Elders who is still remembered by humanity. It is a great honor." He clapped his hands together. Ducking his head, he raised his hand, bringing up the globe of light, and revealed two tall arched columns of bones that had been shaped to form a doorframe. Beyond the opening, there was utter blackness. Stepping back, he directed, "You first."
Josh hesitated and Machiavelli caught his arm and squeezed tightly. When he spoke, his voice was low and urgent. "Whatever happens, you must not show fear, and do not panic. Your life, your very sanity, depends on it. Do you understand?"
"No fear, no panic," Josh repeated. He was starting to hyperventilate. "No fear, no panic."
"Go now." Machiavelli released the boy's arm and pushed him forward toward Dee and the bone doorway. "Have your powers Awakened," he said, "and I hope it will be worth it."
Something in Machiavelli's voice made Josh look back. There was a look almost of pity on the Italian's face, and Josh stopped. Dee looked at him, gray eyes glittering, lips twisted in an ugly smile. He raised his eyebrows. "Don't you want to be Awakened?"
And Josh really had only one answer to that.
Glancing back at Machiavelli again, he half raised a hand in farewell, took a deep breath and stepped through the arched doorway into the pitch-black. Light blossomed as Dee followed him, and the boy discovered that he was standing in a vast circular chamber that seemed to be carved entirely out of one enormous bone—the smoothly curved walls, the polished yellow ceiling, even the parchment-colored floor were the same shade and texture as the bone-filled walls outside.
Dee put his hand on the small of Josh's back and urged him forward. Josh took two steps and stopped. The past few days had taught him to expect surprises—wonders, creatures and monsters: but this, this was … disappointing.
The chamber was empty except for a long rectangular raised stone plinth in the center of the room. Dee's globe of light bobbed over the platform, harshly illuminating every carved detail. Lying flat on the top of a pitted slab of limestone was a huge statue of a man in ancient-looking metal and leather armor, gauntleted hands wrapped around the thick hilt of a broadsword that was at least six feet long. Rising up on his toes, Josh could see that the statue's head was covered in a helmet that completely concealed the face.
Josh looked around. Dee was standing to the right of the doorway and Machiavelli had stepped into the room and taken up a position on the left. They were both watching him intently. "What … what happens now?" he asked, his voice flat and muffled in the chamber.
Neither man responded. Machiavelli folded his arms and tilted his head slightly to one side, eyes narrowing.
"Who's this?" Josh asked, jerking a thumb at the statue. He didn't expect to get an answer from Dee, but when he turned to the Italian and Lily he realized that they weren't looking at him, he was looking beyond him. Josh spun around … just as two nightmarish creatures materialized out of the shadows.
Everything about them was white, from their almost transparent skin to the long fine hair that flowed down their backs and brushed the floor behind them. It was impossible to say whether they were male or female. They were the size of small children, unnaturally thin, with bulbous heads, broad foreheads and pointed chins. Overlarge ears and tiny nubs of horn grew out of the top of their skulls. Huge circular eyes without any pupils fixed on him, and when the creatures stepped forward, he realized that there was something wrong with their legs. Their thighs curved backward, and then the legs jutted forward at the knee and ended in goatlike hooves.
They separated as they came around the slab, and Josh's instinct was to back away from them, but then he remembered Machiavelli's advice and stood his ground. Taking a deep breath, he looked closely at the nearer creature and discovered that it was not quite as terrifying as it looked at first: it was so small it appeared almost fragile. He thought he knew what they were; he'd seen images of them on fragments of Greek and Roman pottery on the bookshelves in his mom's study. They were fauns, or maybe satyrs; he wasn't sure what the difference was.
The creatures slowly circled Josh, reaching for him with icy long-fingered hands tipped with filthy black nails, stroking his torn T-shirt, pinching the fabric of his jeans. They spoke together, chattering in high-pitched, almost inaudible voices that set his teeth on edge. One bone-chilling finger touched the flesh of his stomach and his aura spat and crackled gold sparks. "Hey!" he shouted. The creatures jumped back, but that single touch had set Josh's heart racing. He was abruptly gripped by every nameless fear he'd ever imagined, and all the nightmares that most terrified him flooded to the surface, leaving him gasping and shaking, bathed in a bitter icy sweat. The second faun darted forward and laid a cold hand on Josh's face. Suddenly, his heart was tripping madly, his stomach churning with mindless panic.
The two creatures held each other and jumped up and down, shaking with what could only be laughter.
"Josh." Machiavelli's commanding voice broke through the boy's rising panic and silenced the creatures. "Josh. Listen to me. Hear my voice, concentrate on it. The satyrs are simple creatures and feed off the most basic of human emotions: one gorges itself on fear, the other delights in panic. They are Phobos and Deimos."
At the mention of their names, the two satyrs started back, fading into the shadows, until only their huge liquid eyes were visible, black and shining in the light of the hovering globe.
"They are the Guardians of the Sleeping God."
And then, with a grinding of ancient stone, the statue sat up and swiveled its head to look at Josh. Within the helmet, two eyes blazed blood red.
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