YAY! Look, I updated already! *dances* I'm on a roll! Thanks to everyone
for the lovely reviews, I'm glad you didn't all give up on me ;)
I'm slowly getting towards the final showdown; only a few more chapters to
go :D This is quite a long one. Enjoy!
* * *
Chapter 17: Translation
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the small window, and turned over in the narrow bed to find myself alone. I sat up and stretched, letting my mind wander back to the events of the night before. Kurtis had definitely been worth the wait. I felt slightly disappointed that he hadn't been there when I woke up, but surely he couldn't be far away. Hopefully he was in the kitchen making coffee. I could murder a cup. Deciding I should probably get up too, I started to look around for clothes, but soon remembered that my outfit from yesterday was scattered around the living room. My suitcase had been left out there, too, so I wrapped a sheet around myself and went out into the hall.
As I opened the bedroom door I heard voices, and stopped short as I saw two figures sitting together in the living room. Kurtis sat with his back to the smaller man, who was looking at the tattoo on his back with interest and scribbling notes in a book that rested on his knees. Both looked up as they heard the door open.
"Ozan!" I said, surprised. "I – er – didn't realise you were here." State the obvious, why don't you, I thought.
Ozan smiled and stood up, bowing his head slightly to me in greeting. "Lara, it is wonderful to see you." Bless him, he was acting as though this were a perfectly normal social occasion. I smiled back, clutching the sheet tighter, and tried to avoid catching Kurtis' eye. My clothes and underwear were piled on a chair and I picked them up, blushing fiercely.
"Please, excuse me for a moment," I said awkwardly, and turned to head for the bathroom. I glanced at Kurtis just before I left the room, and saw his amused grin. I scowled and hurried to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
A few minutes later I emerged, washed, dressed and rather more prepared for company. My tangled hair was now neatly combed and braided. Smiling bravely, I went back into the living room. Ozan was still peering at Kurtis' tattoo, curiosity on his dark features. I sat down in the same leather armchair as the evening before, next to the table where my pistols still lay.
"Any luck translating it?" I asked Ozan. He looked down at his notes and then at me.
"Some. There is mention of the race of angels, here," he said, gesturing to some symbols close to Kurtis' left shoulder. "It says the gift of light was granted by the angels, to fight the evil that walks on land. And this part" – he gestured again – "says, 'angels without God.' Meaning the Nephilim, I presume. It reads as a kind of oath, stating that the bearer of these markings commits his mind and body to the fight against this evil." I nodded, recalling Kurtis' explanation from the night before. "That part is fairly straightforward. The artist must have understood the meanings of these words. But there are other parts which are very difficult to read, because they are so heavily decorated." He paused and I saw his head turning slightly to left and right as he perused the markings. Kurtis sat waiting patiently. After a moment Ozan pointed to part of the design which reached up onto Kurtis' right shoulder. "This section here is confusing. It looks like decoration, but I think it might also say something. It is very unclear. Perhaps the meaning was forgotten over time... and a result the symbols changed."
Kurtis looked over his shoulder and nodded. "I remember my father once saying that there were no pictures of the oath, that it was copied from one warrior to the next to keep it more secret. The tattoos probably became less accurate the more they were copied."
"Indeed," Ozan replied. "But this does seem strangely familiar. Perhaps my books will help to shed some light; I brought them all with me. But first, I shall make us all some coffee." He stood up and nodded to Kurtis to show that he was finished. Kurtis reached for his shirt and pulled it back on.
"No, please, you carry on working," I said, getting to my feet. "Or at least take a break. I'll make the coffee."
Ozan smiled gratefully, and I went through to the kitchen. A minute later Kurtis followed me in, and slid his hands around my waist as I was filling the coffee pot. He planted a light kiss on my neck.
"I know it's a little late, but good morning," he said close to my ear.
I turned around to place the pot on the kitchen stove. "Morning," I replied, and looked up at him innocently. "Sleep well?"
He smiled. "Fine, thankyou very much for asking. Sorry I didn't wake you. He kind of caught me by surprise, too."
I winced. "I can't believe he saw me like that. It's like being caught by your parents."
"Hey, you had a sheet. I wasn't so lucky."
"Oh God, really?" I grinned.
"Yeah. Hey, it's not funny! The guy nearly gave me a heart attack."
"You poor thing," I said, trying to wipe the smile from my face and failing.
"Yeah. Well, I don't know what's worse. Him catching me walking around naked, or him knowing everything that happened last night without me saying a word."
I shook my head. "Don't. It's too weird. You don't think – I mean, surely he respects our privacy? He won't be poking around in those thoughts, will he?"
Kurtis grinned. "He doesn't have to, not after finding your underwear draped over the furniture."
"Shut up," I scolded, poking him in the chest. "I feel bad enough as it is."
"Sorry. So... do you feel bad?" he replied, trying to look unconcerned. I saw right through it.
"Not about us," I said quietly, and his expression eased. "I feel bad for Ozan. And Ozan's rug," I added, mischievously.
Kurtis laughed. "God, don't. I've been trying so hard not to look at it. He was standing right on it when I came out of the bedroom. Right about where your ass would have been last-"
I jabbed him again. "Shh! He'll hear you!"
He shrugged. "I guess it's too late to worry about that. Anyway, he's more concerned about other things right now."
"I suppose so. Has he mentioned the medallions yet?"
"No. He wanted to take a look at the tattoo first, and talk to us both about the other stuff. I hope there's some good news," he said sceptically.
* * *
A short time later the three of us were sitting together in the living room in silence, while Ozan sorted through a pile of papers. Some were covered with Kurtis' drawings and notes, others with Ozan's more recent research.
"The medallion that you found," he began, "was one of four. Each was concealed in a different holy place within Derinkuyu. Yours was found in the east church, I believe."
"Yeah," said Kurtis. "Nikolajev, the archaeologist we met in London, was excavating the deeper levels of the city and found it in a hidden chamber behind the church. I went down there to see if I could get inside, and that's when Karel attacked me and took the medallion."
"This is what I find most curious," Ozan replied. "The medallions bear the language of the Light of Truth, and together they would have created an incredibly strong binding spell to keep the Nephilim imprisoned beneath the ground. Of course, this spell would have become weaker as each medallion was removed through the years. But even on its own, each medallion would be damaging to a Nephilim. The Light of Truth would be like poison to them. And so it surprises and worries me that Karel was able to take the medallion from you. He must have some resistance to the power of the language."
"He didn't seem affected by it," Kurtis told him. "He gave me quite a beating after taking it, and I have no doubt he could have done worse. Although -" He frowned. "No, wait, something did happen to him. The sneaky son of a bitch appeared to me as Lara, but after taking the medallion the illusion kind of shifted, like he couldn't keep a hold on it." He glanced at me briefly as he spoke, and I saw in his eyes that he was still shaken by Karel's deception.
"Maybe it's because he is only half Nephilim," I suggested. "Hard as it is to believe, Karel is mostly human."
"Perhaps that explains it," said Ozan. He sifted through his papers again until he found a couple of colour photocopies, which he handed to Kurtis and myself.
"This is the second medallion," he explained. "The one from the museum in Aksaray. It is very fortunate that the museum had these copies, because earlier in the week, the replica itself was stolen."
I looked up in surprise. "Stolen?"
Ozan nodded. "The curators in Aksaray were most confused, because the replica is not valuable. But as they already had records of all the markings on the medallion, they were not overly concerned about the theft. They put it down to opportunistic thieves who mistook the piece for a valuable artefact. However, I feel this is too much of a coincidence."
I had to agree with him there. "So you think it was Karel." I frowned. "But I don't understand. If the medallions were created to keep the Nephilim imprisoned, what does Karel want with them? He wants to set them free."
"Well, it makes sense that he took ours," Kurtis argued. "He certainly wouldn't want us to have one if it could mess up his plans."
"That's true. But why steal a worthless replica?" None of us had an answer.
Ozan sighed and got to his feet. "I must try to make a connection with someone close to Karel," he said. "We need to know more about his plans, and find a safe route into the city for the two of you."
Kurtis and I agreed that it would be best to give Ozan some peace and quiet while he tried to establish a mental link. No doubt he would be able to focus more easily without the nearby buzz of our own highly active minds. We decided to drive back into Derinkuyu town to the inn where Kurtis had been staying, and collect his motorbike and possessions.
We drove down into the town at a leisurely pace, enjoying the feel of the sunshine and the breeze. We probably had a day or two of talking and planning ahead of us, cooped up in Ozan's house, so we welcomed a drive in fresh air and a comfortable silence. I pulled into the dusty car park outside the inn and looked around cautiously. We had to be on guard in case Karel or his spies were anywhere near. Fortunately, the door to Kurtis' room was still locked, and the interior seemed undisturbed when we looked through the window. As we went inside, I was reminded of Kurtis' rather unusual greeting two days earlier.
"I hope you're not going to threaten to blow my brains out this time," I said.
"No," he replied, smiling wickedly. "I'll just bang your brains out."
I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow, but he caught hold of both my wrists and pushed me back against the wall, kicking the door closed behind us. He kissed me hungrily and I couldn't help but reciprocate, feeling his warm body press against mine.
"We can't," I said when we finally broke for air. "We have to get back to Ozan, in case he needs us."
Kurtis bent and kissed my neck. "He'll call if he needs us," he protested.
"No," I argued, a smile taking the scornful edge off my words. "Kurtis, stop, we don't have time for that. We have to be ready." I forced some authority back into my voice. "This is important."
He groaned and released me. "I know, I know," he said sulkily. "I just can't resist you."
I flashed him a seductive smile and turned to the table where his laptop still stood. I packed it away while he gathered up his clothes and other possessions. "You know, from the minute I saw you," he said from behind me, "I knew you were going to just love driving me crazy."
I turned to face him, eyebrows raised playfully. "Oh, and you don't like being driven crazy by me?"
He turned his hypnotic blue eyes on me. "What can I say? I'm deeply flawed."
Not surprisingly, the journey back to Ozan's house turned into a race between my jeep and his bike. To my great annoyance, Kurtis won and was grinning triumphantly when I pulled up outside the house. We went inside, bickering amiably over who was the better driver, but stopped short as we saw Ozan. He was sitting in the living room, his face as pale as ash.
"My friends," he said shakily.
"What's wrong?" Kurtis asked, and I saw his hand reach instinctively for the Chirugai on his belt.
"It is Karel," Ozan replied. "I know why he took the medallions. He is going to use them to break the Nephilim free."
"What? But how?" I sat down beside Ozan and took his hand reassuringly.
"I'm not sure... but he has found a way to use them, to reverse the magic that kept the deepest chamber closed. There is still a door that he cannot penetrate, but he knows how. And he is ready."
"Okay, slow down." I told him. "There's another door?"
"Yes. The medallions kept the entrance to the lower passages closed. When Nikolajev took the last one, he left Derinkuyu's defences vulnerable. Those passages had been closed for many, many centuries, but now they are open. And down at the bottom there is another door. Or perhaps not a door; I think it is more like –"He waved his hand in frustration, trying to remember the word he was looking for. "More like a cork in a bottle. There is a blockage, keeping all the Nephilim's energy shut up tight inside their cave. And Karel has found out a way of using the four medallions to break through this last threshold."
My pounding heart calmed a little. "Wait," I said soothingly. "This is good news. There's another door that he can't open yet. That means we still have time. And Karel doesn't have all the medallions. He has the one Nikolajev found, for certain, but we don't know about the others. And one of the ones he has is just a replica. It's probably useless to him."
Ozan listened, but still looked worried. "I am not so sure. I felt Karel's presence down there, and he is happy. He is excited. They all are...," he trailed off.
"I think I know what he's going to do," Kurtis said gravely after a long silence. Ozan and I looked at him in interest. "Perhaps he doesn't need the actual originals. Perhaps he just needs them to be gold." My eyes widened as he went on. "Eckhardt was probably the most powerful alchemist of all time. Over the years he developed the knowledge required to transmute matter into gold, and since Karel set himself up as Eckhardt's right hand man, there's no reason why he couldn't have access to that knowledge too."
"So he could change the replica," I said, feeling my heart sink. "Which means he really is ready."
"No," Ozan replied, quietly. "Not yet. He is waiting for one last thing." He looked from me to Kurtis, his brown eyes full of sadness. "You."
* * *
:o Ooooh I'm making myself nervous now! And I already know what's going to happen XD Let me know if you like how this is going. As I said, I'm on a bit of a roll, so hopefully I'll have more to post soon!
* * *
Chapter 17: Translation
I woke up to sunlight streaming through the small window, and turned over in the narrow bed to find myself alone. I sat up and stretched, letting my mind wander back to the events of the night before. Kurtis had definitely been worth the wait. I felt slightly disappointed that he hadn't been there when I woke up, but surely he couldn't be far away. Hopefully he was in the kitchen making coffee. I could murder a cup. Deciding I should probably get up too, I started to look around for clothes, but soon remembered that my outfit from yesterday was scattered around the living room. My suitcase had been left out there, too, so I wrapped a sheet around myself and went out into the hall.
As I opened the bedroom door I heard voices, and stopped short as I saw two figures sitting together in the living room. Kurtis sat with his back to the smaller man, who was looking at the tattoo on his back with interest and scribbling notes in a book that rested on his knees. Both looked up as they heard the door open.
"Ozan!" I said, surprised. "I – er – didn't realise you were here." State the obvious, why don't you, I thought.
Ozan smiled and stood up, bowing his head slightly to me in greeting. "Lara, it is wonderful to see you." Bless him, he was acting as though this were a perfectly normal social occasion. I smiled back, clutching the sheet tighter, and tried to avoid catching Kurtis' eye. My clothes and underwear were piled on a chair and I picked them up, blushing fiercely.
"Please, excuse me for a moment," I said awkwardly, and turned to head for the bathroom. I glanced at Kurtis just before I left the room, and saw his amused grin. I scowled and hurried to the bathroom, locking the door behind me.
A few minutes later I emerged, washed, dressed and rather more prepared for company. My tangled hair was now neatly combed and braided. Smiling bravely, I went back into the living room. Ozan was still peering at Kurtis' tattoo, curiosity on his dark features. I sat down in the same leather armchair as the evening before, next to the table where my pistols still lay.
"Any luck translating it?" I asked Ozan. He looked down at his notes and then at me.
"Some. There is mention of the race of angels, here," he said, gesturing to some symbols close to Kurtis' left shoulder. "It says the gift of light was granted by the angels, to fight the evil that walks on land. And this part" – he gestured again – "says, 'angels without God.' Meaning the Nephilim, I presume. It reads as a kind of oath, stating that the bearer of these markings commits his mind and body to the fight against this evil." I nodded, recalling Kurtis' explanation from the night before. "That part is fairly straightforward. The artist must have understood the meanings of these words. But there are other parts which are very difficult to read, because they are so heavily decorated." He paused and I saw his head turning slightly to left and right as he perused the markings. Kurtis sat waiting patiently. After a moment Ozan pointed to part of the design which reached up onto Kurtis' right shoulder. "This section here is confusing. It looks like decoration, but I think it might also say something. It is very unclear. Perhaps the meaning was forgotten over time... and a result the symbols changed."
Kurtis looked over his shoulder and nodded. "I remember my father once saying that there were no pictures of the oath, that it was copied from one warrior to the next to keep it more secret. The tattoos probably became less accurate the more they were copied."
"Indeed," Ozan replied. "But this does seem strangely familiar. Perhaps my books will help to shed some light; I brought them all with me. But first, I shall make us all some coffee." He stood up and nodded to Kurtis to show that he was finished. Kurtis reached for his shirt and pulled it back on.
"No, please, you carry on working," I said, getting to my feet. "Or at least take a break. I'll make the coffee."
Ozan smiled gratefully, and I went through to the kitchen. A minute later Kurtis followed me in, and slid his hands around my waist as I was filling the coffee pot. He planted a light kiss on my neck.
"I know it's a little late, but good morning," he said close to my ear.
I turned around to place the pot on the kitchen stove. "Morning," I replied, and looked up at him innocently. "Sleep well?"
He smiled. "Fine, thankyou very much for asking. Sorry I didn't wake you. He kind of caught me by surprise, too."
I winced. "I can't believe he saw me like that. It's like being caught by your parents."
"Hey, you had a sheet. I wasn't so lucky."
"Oh God, really?" I grinned.
"Yeah. Hey, it's not funny! The guy nearly gave me a heart attack."
"You poor thing," I said, trying to wipe the smile from my face and failing.
"Yeah. Well, I don't know what's worse. Him catching me walking around naked, or him knowing everything that happened last night without me saying a word."
I shook my head. "Don't. It's too weird. You don't think – I mean, surely he respects our privacy? He won't be poking around in those thoughts, will he?"
Kurtis grinned. "He doesn't have to, not after finding your underwear draped over the furniture."
"Shut up," I scolded, poking him in the chest. "I feel bad enough as it is."
"Sorry. So... do you feel bad?" he replied, trying to look unconcerned. I saw right through it.
"Not about us," I said quietly, and his expression eased. "I feel bad for Ozan. And Ozan's rug," I added, mischievously.
Kurtis laughed. "God, don't. I've been trying so hard not to look at it. He was standing right on it when I came out of the bedroom. Right about where your ass would have been last-"
I jabbed him again. "Shh! He'll hear you!"
He shrugged. "I guess it's too late to worry about that. Anyway, he's more concerned about other things right now."
"I suppose so. Has he mentioned the medallions yet?"
"No. He wanted to take a look at the tattoo first, and talk to us both about the other stuff. I hope there's some good news," he said sceptically.
* * *
A short time later the three of us were sitting together in the living room in silence, while Ozan sorted through a pile of papers. Some were covered with Kurtis' drawings and notes, others with Ozan's more recent research.
"The medallion that you found," he began, "was one of four. Each was concealed in a different holy place within Derinkuyu. Yours was found in the east church, I believe."
"Yeah," said Kurtis. "Nikolajev, the archaeologist we met in London, was excavating the deeper levels of the city and found it in a hidden chamber behind the church. I went down there to see if I could get inside, and that's when Karel attacked me and took the medallion."
"This is what I find most curious," Ozan replied. "The medallions bear the language of the Light of Truth, and together they would have created an incredibly strong binding spell to keep the Nephilim imprisoned beneath the ground. Of course, this spell would have become weaker as each medallion was removed through the years. But even on its own, each medallion would be damaging to a Nephilim. The Light of Truth would be like poison to them. And so it surprises and worries me that Karel was able to take the medallion from you. He must have some resistance to the power of the language."
"He didn't seem affected by it," Kurtis told him. "He gave me quite a beating after taking it, and I have no doubt he could have done worse. Although -" He frowned. "No, wait, something did happen to him. The sneaky son of a bitch appeared to me as Lara, but after taking the medallion the illusion kind of shifted, like he couldn't keep a hold on it." He glanced at me briefly as he spoke, and I saw in his eyes that he was still shaken by Karel's deception.
"Maybe it's because he is only half Nephilim," I suggested. "Hard as it is to believe, Karel is mostly human."
"Perhaps that explains it," said Ozan. He sifted through his papers again until he found a couple of colour photocopies, which he handed to Kurtis and myself.
"This is the second medallion," he explained. "The one from the museum in Aksaray. It is very fortunate that the museum had these copies, because earlier in the week, the replica itself was stolen."
I looked up in surprise. "Stolen?"
Ozan nodded. "The curators in Aksaray were most confused, because the replica is not valuable. But as they already had records of all the markings on the medallion, they were not overly concerned about the theft. They put it down to opportunistic thieves who mistook the piece for a valuable artefact. However, I feel this is too much of a coincidence."
I had to agree with him there. "So you think it was Karel." I frowned. "But I don't understand. If the medallions were created to keep the Nephilim imprisoned, what does Karel want with them? He wants to set them free."
"Well, it makes sense that he took ours," Kurtis argued. "He certainly wouldn't want us to have one if it could mess up his plans."
"That's true. But why steal a worthless replica?" None of us had an answer.
Ozan sighed and got to his feet. "I must try to make a connection with someone close to Karel," he said. "We need to know more about his plans, and find a safe route into the city for the two of you."
Kurtis and I agreed that it would be best to give Ozan some peace and quiet while he tried to establish a mental link. No doubt he would be able to focus more easily without the nearby buzz of our own highly active minds. We decided to drive back into Derinkuyu town to the inn where Kurtis had been staying, and collect his motorbike and possessions.
We drove down into the town at a leisurely pace, enjoying the feel of the sunshine and the breeze. We probably had a day or two of talking and planning ahead of us, cooped up in Ozan's house, so we welcomed a drive in fresh air and a comfortable silence. I pulled into the dusty car park outside the inn and looked around cautiously. We had to be on guard in case Karel or his spies were anywhere near. Fortunately, the door to Kurtis' room was still locked, and the interior seemed undisturbed when we looked through the window. As we went inside, I was reminded of Kurtis' rather unusual greeting two days earlier.
"I hope you're not going to threaten to blow my brains out this time," I said.
"No," he replied, smiling wickedly. "I'll just bang your brains out."
I jabbed him in the ribs with my elbow, but he caught hold of both my wrists and pushed me back against the wall, kicking the door closed behind us. He kissed me hungrily and I couldn't help but reciprocate, feeling his warm body press against mine.
"We can't," I said when we finally broke for air. "We have to get back to Ozan, in case he needs us."
Kurtis bent and kissed my neck. "He'll call if he needs us," he protested.
"No," I argued, a smile taking the scornful edge off my words. "Kurtis, stop, we don't have time for that. We have to be ready." I forced some authority back into my voice. "This is important."
He groaned and released me. "I know, I know," he said sulkily. "I just can't resist you."
I flashed him a seductive smile and turned to the table where his laptop still stood. I packed it away while he gathered up his clothes and other possessions. "You know, from the minute I saw you," he said from behind me, "I knew you were going to just love driving me crazy."
I turned to face him, eyebrows raised playfully. "Oh, and you don't like being driven crazy by me?"
He turned his hypnotic blue eyes on me. "What can I say? I'm deeply flawed."
Not surprisingly, the journey back to Ozan's house turned into a race between my jeep and his bike. To my great annoyance, Kurtis won and was grinning triumphantly when I pulled up outside the house. We went inside, bickering amiably over who was the better driver, but stopped short as we saw Ozan. He was sitting in the living room, his face as pale as ash.
"My friends," he said shakily.
"What's wrong?" Kurtis asked, and I saw his hand reach instinctively for the Chirugai on his belt.
"It is Karel," Ozan replied. "I know why he took the medallions. He is going to use them to break the Nephilim free."
"What? But how?" I sat down beside Ozan and took his hand reassuringly.
"I'm not sure... but he has found a way to use them, to reverse the magic that kept the deepest chamber closed. There is still a door that he cannot penetrate, but he knows how. And he is ready."
"Okay, slow down." I told him. "There's another door?"
"Yes. The medallions kept the entrance to the lower passages closed. When Nikolajev took the last one, he left Derinkuyu's defences vulnerable. Those passages had been closed for many, many centuries, but now they are open. And down at the bottom there is another door. Or perhaps not a door; I think it is more like –"He waved his hand in frustration, trying to remember the word he was looking for. "More like a cork in a bottle. There is a blockage, keeping all the Nephilim's energy shut up tight inside their cave. And Karel has found out a way of using the four medallions to break through this last threshold."
My pounding heart calmed a little. "Wait," I said soothingly. "This is good news. There's another door that he can't open yet. That means we still have time. And Karel doesn't have all the medallions. He has the one Nikolajev found, for certain, but we don't know about the others. And one of the ones he has is just a replica. It's probably useless to him."
Ozan listened, but still looked worried. "I am not so sure. I felt Karel's presence down there, and he is happy. He is excited. They all are...," he trailed off.
"I think I know what he's going to do," Kurtis said gravely after a long silence. Ozan and I looked at him in interest. "Perhaps he doesn't need the actual originals. Perhaps he just needs them to be gold." My eyes widened as he went on. "Eckhardt was probably the most powerful alchemist of all time. Over the years he developed the knowledge required to transmute matter into gold, and since Karel set himself up as Eckhardt's right hand man, there's no reason why he couldn't have access to that knowledge too."
"So he could change the replica," I said, feeling my heart sink. "Which means he really is ready."
"No," Ozan replied, quietly. "Not yet. He is waiting for one last thing." He looked from me to Kurtis, his brown eyes full of sadness. "You."
* * *
:o Ooooh I'm making myself nervous now! And I already know what's going to happen XD Let me know if you like how this is going. As I said, I'm on a bit of a roll, so hopefully I'll have more to post soon!