I warn you: there's not going to be much fun for the next couple of chapters. Basically stuff gets kinda nasty. And there will be cliffhangers. Oh yes.
Chapter 20: The Final DoorI descended once more into the pit of the city, following the grim paper trail of used flares, dead guards and my own smudged footprints in the dust. The sound of my footsteps echoed startlingly loud and clear in the silent gloom of the arched hall that Kurtis and I had last passed through together. I didn't know how much time I had spent unconscious after my fruitless encounter with Karel, but every lost minute had put more distance between me and Kurtis. The sense of dread with which I had woken had only been made worse by Ozan's wide open front door and the unharmed motorcycle on the drive. I felt as though Karel was inviting me back towards Derinkuyu to witness the final act of his big show. In his eyes, my most desperate efforts were an amusement rather than a threat.
Some way beyond the hall I came into a large square area lined with pillars. It would have resembled a courtyard if there had been open sky overhead rather than hundreds of metres of rock. Glaring electric lamps hung from some of the pillars, and bundles of cable lay twisted along the paved floor. The lights and the low electric hum of a generator in one corner made the scene most surreal, as though I had walked onto a movie set rather than a historical site. Around the edges of the room was more evidence of recent activity: water bottles, crates of ammunition, medical supplies. Karel and his army's most recent base of operations, perhaps. A couple more bodies were slumped on the ground beside fallen weapons.
I crossed the room towards a huge doorway which, even in my restless state, I found quite breathtaking. The double doors themselves were made of wood, and I marvelled at how well preserved they were. Images of winged angels and men with flames reaching from their heads were inlaid in gilt metal that shone as brightly as if it had been forged yesterday. Something was written in the elaborate curved script of the Light of Truth on long panels across the doors, and I wondered what it said. Looking around the doorway, I noticed four circular indentations in the frame, and I realised what I had found. This was the main doorway that Karel had had to get through, and the round holes were for the medallions removed from the churches above. I understood now why the door was still in such immaculate condition. It was protected by a mystical force, weakened when the medallions were removed from their hiding places. The writing on the door was probably another prayer or spell that helped to seal in the evil beyond, and made the portal itself impenetrable. But now the doors stood open, and the secrets beyond could destroy everything. Heart racing, I walked through the doorway.
I pressed on into the unfamiliar corridors, alert as before to any sign that Kurtis had passed through. Many times I called his name, but only a hollow echo of my own voice returned. Here and there were the bodies of more guards, their torsos and limbs slit open grotesquely by the Chirugai blades, and I could follow the imprints of Kurtis' boots in the dustier areas. As long as I could see proof of his movements I had hope that he was still alive and unharmed.
The only way now was down, and the deeper I descended the colder it became. In some parts of the city above I had felt a sense of reverence and calm, lingering long after the last inhabitants had deserted. Down here in the most forgotten catacombs, that feeling was replaced with a menacing chill, a haunting and malevolent presence hanging in the stale air. The feeling only grew stronger as I moved onwards, and only through stubbornly fixating on my goal did I manage to ignore the fear creeping up my spine.
Eventually I reached a large, rounded space and stopped to peer into the shadows. The passages behind me had been sparsely lit with oil lamps, but this room was in almost complete darkness. I lit a flare and started to make my way around the curving wall of what seemed more like a cave than a room, the stone rough and jagged. My light flickered around the walls, every bump and dip in the stone creating wavering peaks and valleys of shadow.
As my eyes got used to the intense darkness I saw that there was some kind of stone platform in the middle of the room, but other than the opening through which I had entered there was no apparent exit around the walls. I cursed in frustration. I couldn't possibly have missed any other passageway on my way down here, so where was Karel? Was this another part of his game?
As I looked around desperately at the solid rock, my foot struck something which went skidding a short way across the floor. I bent to pick it up, and examined the slightly bent disc in my hand. It was covered in chalky dust from the floor and for a moment I didn't recognise it. Then, with a sickening jolt, I realised that I was holding the Chirugai. I slid my shaking fingers into the holes as I had done once before in the Strahov, and waited for the blades to slide out as they had then and pull me towards the life force of its owner. But this time the blades remained locked away tight inside the lifeless disc. I squeezed my eyes closed and breathed in slowly and deeply as a despair more intense than the cold and the dark started to reach its fingers around my heart. Kurtis' most powerful weapon had been damaged and abandoned, and was no longer responding to his presence.
Was this what it had come to? All the struggling and the danger we had faced to get this far, only for me to lose both Ozan and Kurtis in the same day. The despair took me, and I sank to the floor. Suddenly the only remaining belief in my mind was that if Kurtis was dead, then there was really no point in going on. I had lost everything else, and if he was gone too, then this world was too cruel and terrible to bother saving. Let the Nephilim take it.
Eventually I opened my eyes again. What would Kurtis have thought if he knew I was this close to giving in? He had fought a lifetime of pain and despair and never stopped fighting. I pictured Karel's face, gloating that he had the power to take so much from me, and I felt a fire erupt inside me, my pain fuelling an overwhelming fury. Whatever he had done to Kurtis, and whatever he planned to do with me, at least I could give him a fight he would never forget. If I lived to see another day, then I could cry. But for now the only thing on my mind was vengeance.
I put the Chirugai into my backpack and stood up. The platform in the centre of the room was my best hope for an explanation, and I lit a second flare as I approached so I could make it out more clearly. I gasped in surprise. It wasn't a platform at all, but rather the mouth of some kind of deep well, raised up from the rest of the room. I edged closer and leaned over the edge of the hole. There was light somewhere far down below, flickering and faint, but this had to be the way to Karel. I recalled Ozan's description of the final door as 'a cork in a bottle', and realised that this must be the bottle's 'neck'. There was no sign of whatever blockage had been removed, so I assumed it must have either crumbled and fallen through the hole or been vaporised in Karel's ritual. How on earth was I supposed to get down there? Gravity was no obstacle to Karel, as I remembered only too well from our encounter in Eckhardt's lab, when he had circled in the air above me as though weightless. Sadly, I didn't have the same advantage. Feeling around the inside of the well, I discovered that it was made of rather fissured, porous rock. It was also narrow enough that I could probably support myself against opposite walls with my legs if handholds became scarce. And if I did fall, well, hopefully I would land on Karel and at least give him a nasty scare. I smiled grimly, lighting a fresh flare, and manoeuvred myself over the edge.
I inched down the well slowly, the climb seeming to take an eternity. Beneath me the light grew gradually stronger, although I could still see nothing and no one in the chamber below. My arms and legs throbbed with the effort of the descent, but I urged them on to do me this one final favour. After some time the well started to widen, and I was forced to carry on down one side of the gap using whatever hand and footholds I could reach. Peering down anxiously, I could see the floor below me, but it seemed too far to drop down safely. I struggled on down the now sloping rock wall, but suddenly my aching arms gave in and I lost my grip. I tumbled down, and let out a harsh yell of pain as I landed heavily on my right leg and felt the shin snap beneath my weight. I almost passed out from the agony, but before I could retreat into oblivion I saw a figure striding towards me.
"Karel," I snarled through the haze of pain. There was no way I could fight him now.
He looked down at me, and smiled. "You really are quite remarkable, Lara," he said fondly. "Always determined to interrupt my plans. Sadly for you, it is too late to stop anything. But I would enjoy it very much to have you as a spectator." Although he was dressed the same as the last time I had seen him, he was now in his true half-Nephilim form, grey skin etched with ancient markings. He reached down and grabbed me by the arm, then yanked me to my feet. Or foot, rather. I cried out again as my right leg scraped awkwardly against the ground, but Karel held me up effortlessly, and carried me further into the room.
I actually did pass out this time as he dropped me to the floor, darkness spilling from within me out towards my mind, but moments later I found my vision ebbing back again. I looked up to see Karel crouching over me. I felt an unusual, creeping warmth in my leg where the pain had been. I looked down and saw his gloved hand upon my skin. Reflexively I pulled the leg away, and found that the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing.
Karel laughed as he saw my shocked expression. "There's no use you being present at the dawn of a new era if you can't even stay awake," he said as he straightened up again. "Please, stay where you are and I won't have to hurt you." I sat up warily, and tentatively rubbed the shin I had broken minutes earlier. It was fixed. Of all Karel's powers, I had never expected healing to be one of them. It appalled me that he had such a valuable ability, but spent his life pursuing only the path of destruction.
I looked around the cavern we were in. It was so huge I couldn't make out walls around the edges, despite the glow from a large circle of flame that blazed around a rough stone platform ahead of me, beyond Karel. I could see nothing else. The place seemed as empty and silent as a grave.
"Dawn of a new era?" I snapped back at him sarcastically. "I don't see any of your friends falling over themselves to be a part of it. Or any Nephilim, for that matter."
He tipped his head slightly to one side, amused. "Everyone who worked for me is dead. The few you and your friend left alive, I killed myself. I needed them for a time, but they had no place in my vision." He gestured with one hand at the vast cave around us. "And do not be deceived by the apparent emptiness, Lara. The Nephilim are here, as they have been for many centuries. True, they are mere ghosts of their former selves. They were already weak when they dug themselves into this place, and grew weaker still as time passed. It will take a large sacrifice to return their strength, but I have that taken care of."
He moved away now, towards the platform, and as he did I was able to see the platform properly for the first time. Inside the ring of fire, another male figure was standing. No, not standing; he was held upright by heavy chains that clasped his arms up above his hanging head. His clothes and skin were dark with dried blood, and it was impossible to tell if he was alive or dead.
It was Kurtis.