THIRTEEN - NYX
"I thought you said we were going to Virginia," I say, staring at the brownstone in front of me in confusion.
"Detour," Jez replies, striding up the steps. I pad up after her.
"There's no doorknob."
"Aren't you observant," she mutters in reply. She presses her hand against the center of the door. After a moment, glowing red lines appear in the wood. They form a nose-up, stick-figure fish. The door swings inward silently. "Stay close and don't touch anything," she barks, stepping across the mantle. She strides over a painted demon trap and moves down the short entry hall. As I follow, I notice other sigils and symbols painted on the floor and walls.
"What is this place?" I ask.
"Safe house." We reach another door. This one she opens with a key, but a glowing symbol still appears. It's a two-ringed circle, with crossed double-ended arrows in the center and some weird squiggly snake-like things around the inside. When she steps through, her pace quickens. I have to almost jog to keep up.
"Where did you learn all this stuff?" She doesn't reply. "Well. Look at miss Chatty Cathy. What's wrong, sis? Sphynx got your tongue?"
"Stop talking. Or I'll make you sit outside." Past the second door is a normal-looking house. Jez approaches a staircase. We go down.
"Where are we?"
"No."
"Ok, that wasn't really a yes or no−Woah." My mouth hangs open. At the bottom of the steps is the most intricately designed door I've ever seen. It's circular−about five feet in diameter. The bulk of the door is obsidian. Some sort of black-and-green mineral and a shiny silvery-white metal fuse together like marble and wind across the black stone as delicate vines. Fist-sized rubies, cut to look like roses, are imbedded in the round slab. The vines spiral around the central design, which is embossed in the obsidian with the same shimmery metal: a downward-pointing triangle, with an X across the bottom point. The intersecting lines that form the point extend past the triangle and curl out. A large V lies across the bottom.
"What is that?" I breathe.
"Father's oldest Seal," she replies reverently. "It dates back to the fifteenth century. It is supposed to represent a chalice, a sign of Creation. The X stands for the physical realm; the triangle for water, and the V is the duality of all things. Light and dark; male and female; Yin and Yang; etc. It−don't touch it!" She lunges out to grab my wrist before I can run my fingers over the design.
"Why? Does it summon Dad?"
She shakes her head. "That's what humans think. Yes, it invokes his power, but doesn't actually work to call him. I doubt he even knows when one is used. No; it acts as a gateway. Personally? I use it as my front door."
"So why can't I touch it?"
She rolls her eyes. "Because this," she points to the silver metal, "is an amalgam of Mercury and Cadmium. It's toxic. Well…to mortals anyway."
"Oh. What's the green stuff?"
"Malachite."
"What's it do?"
"It looks cool. Now shut up and let me concentrate." She pulls out her angel blade and draws the tip across her hand. Where the skin parts, blood and white light pour out. She places her palm against the Sigil. The white metal absorbs her blood and glows. There's a loud click from the door and it swings slowly outward. I stumble back, narrowly avoiding losing my nose. Jez leads the way inside. With a flourish of her still-bleeding hand, she announces, "Welcome to my Vault."