Carl's mind raced, his feet barely keeping pace as he ascended the stairs, and he waited impatiently at the top for Gabriel. The hunter ascended more slowly, cocooned in darker thoughts. A small part of his mind was turning over the possibilities of what they might find in St. Linus' Church, but the greater part was preoccupied with his impending departure – and the careful balance he needed to strike.
Carl huffed as he saw Van Helsing appear around the bend in the stairwell. "Are you coming?" he called.
Van Helsing nodded, hiding a yawn behind his hand. While Carl was quite used to working for two or even three days on end, the hunter had not had ample chance to rest since his resurrection little over four days ago. While he was both something more and less than human, he had the same needs, though he did not feel them as acutely, and could function well beyond mortal endurance. But healing Michael was much like stretching a long-unused muscle; it had taken more of his strength than he was prepared to admit. While Carl had been energized by acting as a conduit for such immense power, Gabriel had been drawing and tempering the energy, and was wearied by the effort.
In addition he was worried, for the creature had not shown itself for several days. Beelzebul, and the few others like him, thrived on chaos and despair. It was truly unlike him to remain so quiet for so long, and it boded ill.
If the creature did not make a move soon, Gabriel would be forced out of the Vatican before being given a chance to defeat the creature. While this would not do much more than cause the hunter a good deal of inconvenience, it could prove more than dangerous to the members of the Order he would be forced to leave behind. Now that Beelzebul had almost unrestricted access to the Vatican, until Gabriel could defeat or exorcise him – both of which would undoubtedly drag far too much attention to him – he could not leave the world's only line of defense against evil in such danger.
He was, he admitted as he followed Carl down unfamiliar corridors, in a tight quandary.
Focusing his attention at the aggravated friar who was almost running in his excitement, Gabriel quickened his pace to Carl's satisfaction. Carl was muttering disjointedly at intervals, trying to remember the shortest way to the opposite side of the Holy City.
The main section of the underground laboratory was primarily located beneath the Pontifical Academy of Sciences, just north of the most notable structure in all of the Holy City – St. Peter's Basilica. The catacombs were accessible from specific points within the Academy, as well as a confessional entrance within the Basilica and several more located in separate outlying structures that were currently in use as lodgings for the clergy and education centers within the city. The chances of anyone who was not a member of the Order – for there were thousands of priests within the Vatican, and only a select number even knew of the Knights of the Holy Order – were quite slim. In addition, the Vatican City had its own type of protection, from the descendants of warrior-priests to sacred blessings of magnanimous power. It was the most protected and secure place on Earth. Or had been.
St. Linus' Church, however, was far to the west of the main Vatican complex, through the Gardens and just to the south of the Lourdes Grotto. It was a medium-sized building, far from the enormous grandeur of the Basilica in both size and decoration.
Van Helsing followed Carl through the dawn stillness that prevailed within the Vatican Gardens as they skirted the southern edge of Deacon Ceslovas's triumph. The lanky gardener, of age with Jinette, ruled his verdant realm with a gentle hand. Those holy men under his tutelage counted themselves twice blessed to have a teacher of such knowledge and kindness. Gabriel had to admit that the backbreaking work yielded incredible results – the Gardens were possessed of ethereal beauty, dusted with dew and the dawning rays of golden sunlight.
Carl followed the path as it curved to the right, and Gabriel noted that he took the first left possible, heading them south toward the Church. The Lourdes Grotto was visible to the north, but they headed in the opposite direction, turning their backs on the shrine.
When they finally reached said building, after many minutes of walking broken only by Carl's rapid-fire history on St. Linus' Church, Gabriel could not recall ever being there before. His stays in Vatican City were usually short, between assignments. He rarely got the opportunity for an extended stay, and when such a situation did occur, he had spent the majority of it wandering around the eastern part of the Vatican complex and in the city of Rome itself. He had spent a small amount of time enjoying the peace of the Gardens, mostly while healing after he had been found on the steps of the Basilica, but had never found the time to venture beyond.
As he gazed at the church, he noted the similarities in architecture that marked almost every holy building in the Vatican. Stained glass windows reflected the first rays of the sun, and the statues of angels and saints staring impassively at all comers were bathed in shadow.
Instead of using the main doors, Carl made his way to the side entrance reserved for the clergy, and Gabriel followed, unsurprised to find it unlocked. Even with the hushed rumors of a creature that hunted the clergy, hundreds – nay, thousands – of years of security within the boundaries of Vatican City dictated the trusting behaviors of those residing there.
The Church was empty so early in the morning. Gabriel looked on the Church, built in the standard shape of the cross with the altar at the far end on a raised dais. Above the tabernacle was both a depiction of the crucifixion, and an elaborate glass window facing north. While the effort spent in glorifying this shrine was nowhere near the hours expended upon the St. Peter's, there nonetheless was much decoration. Benedictions in Latin were inscribed high above the heads of worshippers, scrolling across the walls in plain script. Small side shrines of families who had dedicated money, supplies or man-hours were built into small recesses into the east and west walls. Many of these shrines contained family crypts as well, Gabriel noted.
Carl, inured to such magnificence through his years at the Vatican, immediately dedicated himself to the search for another clue, and called Gabriel to him.
"I think we may need more assistance," he said, eyes flickering around the room. While not on the scale of the Basilica, the Sistine Chapel or Apostolic Palace, St. Linus' Church was still considerably large enough to merit several more hands and eyes.
"Who can we trust?" Gabriel asked. There were those among the Order would work with them and keep a closed mouth, and more than any other, Carl would know who they were.
Carl's gaze turned inward as he mentally scrolled through the names of possibilities. "I think I know a few people," he said, and Gabriel nodded. There was no way they would be able to search through this entire complex on their own. They had gotten lucky in the catacombs, but Van Helsing was still suspicious of their apparent success. It had been a little too easy, and the emptiness of the small compartment behind the sigil still bothered him.
Still, they had no other lead, no idea where to even begin to look for the Spear. The least they could do would be to search this structure as thoroughly as possible.
While Carl raced back to the Pontifical Academy, Van Helsing continued to wander throughout the church. He entered many of the side shrines, where many of the rich families of Rome – the Medici, and others – were entombed. Near the altar was the crypt of Anacletus, third pope of Rome. The man had taken over in 77 AD until his martyrdom in 88 AD. His remains were enshrined in the church dedicated to his predecessor.
The quiet creak of the church door opening snagged his attention. Gabriel turned from his contemplation of the stone coffin protecting Anacletus' bones, hyperaware for danger. Moving soundlessly, he quickly concealed himself in the shadows of the doorway leading to the darkened enclave. He shifted slightly, every sense on the alert, a hand reaching for his blowgun.
It was Carl, returning from the Academy – but he was alone. Gabriel blinked. How long had he been lost in thought? Shaking away the errant musing, he replaced his weapon and stepped from the shadows. Carl noticed him immediately and raced over.
When he got a proper look at the friar, Van Helsing tensed. "What's wrong?"
Carl gasped for breath between words. "We've just received word." He bent over at the knees, swiping at his sweaty brow. The words, uttered somewhere around knee-height, were muffled. "The Church of St. Augustine was searched last night. It's being razed, as we speak." Carl straightened in time to rush after Van Helsing as the hunter raced from the building.
He searched the skies, and saw nothing, then ran to the corner of St. Linus', turning to face northward. In the distance, a gray cloud of smoke surged angrily into the skies. Gabriel stopped dead at the sight, entire body stilling in horror.
Carl lurched to a stop at his side. "There are members of the Order there now, trying to get the flames under control."
"The clergy?" Gabriel asked.
Carl, grasping that he was not referring to their own, slowly shook his head. "They have not been found, as yet."
The hunter's mouth twisted. "They are dead, then." Gabriel turned his gaze from the smoke staining the sky and gazed at Carl. "Why that church?"
The friar shook his head. "I don't know."
Gabriel looked back to the smoke. "Jinette is sure that this was not an accident?"
Carl sighed. "Quite sure."
Gabriel shook his head, and turned on his heel. "Did you find anyone willing to help us search?" he called back over his shoulder.
"What?" Carl followed him once more, voice strident in astonishment. "Do you mean that we're not -"
"No," Gabriel cut him off. At the upset sputters behind him, he turned. "The church is burned. The creature found nothing, or we would know. At the very least, the destruction of the building itself was to harm as many as possible, and sow unease. At worst, it is lying in wait for us to appear. Even if it is not, the impact of our presences investigating there would lend notice to an event that Jinette can write off as an accident."
Carl eyed the hunter with the dawning of realization. "Do you mean to say that even within the Order, missions are concealed?"
Gabriel rubbed his eyes. "Carl," he sighed. "What do you think would happen if it became known that the very existence of the world is imperiled, by a creature which always seems to be one step ahead? By a being who is favored by the Light-Bringer himself?"
Carl's quick mind found the answer, as it was an emotion he found himself flirting with as the hunter's grim words fell through the distance between them. "Panic."
Gabriel nodded. "At the very least." He turned from his inner thoughts and focused on the friar at his side. "Did you find anyone willing to help us?" he asked.
Carl nodded. "I was returning when I heard the news."
"How many?"
"Seven, right now. Five more in an hour or so."
Gabriel's brow lifted in surprise. He had expected perhaps four – nowhere near the muster Carl had raised. "You know, they weren't very keen on working anywhere near you," the friar said slyly, with a sidelong look at the black-clad figure at his side. "Jinette was in earshot, though, and they couldn't very well say no."
Amused, Gabriel snorted. Trust Carl to have finessed others into assisting him in the most devious – and binding – manner possible.
"So how many will actually show up?" he asked.
"Looks like they're all here now," Carl's voice smugly sounded from behind him. Gabriel turned to find seven men approaching through the Gardens, talking quietly amongst themselves.
Gabriel nodded, a smile twitching the corner of his mouth. "Break them up into teams; have them scour sections of the church for anything that could be even slightly relevant."
"What are you going to do?" Carl asked.
"I'll search the shrines," he responded. Years of hunting in the dark had given him excellent night-sight, and the tiny shrines annexing the main church were shadowed. Candles might help, but Van Helsing suspected that they would simply be wasted in the half-light permeating the small rooms. Carl nodded and before his presence could cause a stir, Gabriel slipped into the church once again. He heaved a sigh, resting against the closed doors for a moment while Carl spoke to the others outside.
St. Augustine's. A fair distance from Vatican City, but not far. At this point in the chase, the creature would not go to a location unless it believed the Spear to be hidden there. It was certainly possible that the Spear lay sleeping within Rome herself, but somehow Gabriel did not think it was outside the Holy City. Protected as Rome was, the Vatican complex would be the most certain place to conceal such a potent evil, masking it within the overpowering presence and security offered to the City. Frowning, Gabriel let his gaze pass idly over the interior of the Church, but he could sense nothing. The frown deepened. Shaking his head, he turned to the first small sepulcher, and as he passed into the shadows he heard Carl and the other men enter the church.
His suspicions were borne out six hours later. The men, eyesore and anxious, stopped their meticulous search in order to eat. Gabriel, exhausted, moved to the outside steps of the church, shading his tired eyes as he breathed in the fresh air. A breeze was blowing, gentle and cool, bringing with it the scent of the flowers in the gardens and the sound of church bells across the Vatican striking half-past noon. With the light, the ache in his head – borne of squinting at details in semi-darkness – alleviated slightly.
Carl sat down next to him on the steps leading to the entrance to St. Linus'. "Any luck?" the friar asked glumly.
Gabriel shook his head. They had experienced a fortunate windfall, discovering the sigil of Linus in the catacombs. However, he couldn't help but feel that they were overlooking something. The sunlight warmed him as he listened to the members of the Order conversing quietly off to his left, where they sat on the stairs eating their midday meal.
"Why?" he murmured, his mind focused on the church as his eyes focused inward. Why here? It was safe, and obscure enough, but nowhere near the protection needed for such a dangerous object. He had the abject feeling that he was missing something vital. Frowning, he decided to start at the beginning.
"Carl, what do we know about St. Linus, and the sigil we found?"
The friar shrugged. "Not much is known about the earliest papacies. Records have been lost, in moving, in fires, in Brother Yakov's filing system . . ."
Gabriel felt a weary smile pull at his mouth, and gave in to it. "Other than that," he continued, leaning farther back against the stairs to rest on his elbows.
"There are limited accounts, several short biographies on the earliest popes. But they are at least one-hundred and fifty years after that time. Why?"
Gabriel shrugged, not answering.
Carl would not be put off. "You think we're looking in the wrong place," he guessed. "I'm right?" he gasped, as Van Helsing shot him a dark look, warning him to be quiet. The other men were close enough to hear their conversation, and he didn't want them loosing heart or overlooking something because they didn't expect to find anything. There was always the chance that he was wrong, after all.
But Carl needed an answer. "I don't know," Gabriel sighed, rising slowly. He walked to the corner of St. Linus' as he had done that morning, and gazed north. Smoke, faint but present, was still rising to the heavens. St. Augustine's still burned, then. There was almost no way to get such a large fire under control – in many cases, containment was the limit of action that could be taken, to preserve the nearby homes and structures.
Carl stood next to him, and quietly voiced his own troubles. "I keep thinking of the flagstones in the floor that were crushed to powder in the attack," he confided. Gabriel half-turned, surprised. "What if there were other symbols, or clues, or some such inscribed on them, and the creature found and destroyed them to hinder us?" the friar continued.
The hunter had not considered that aspect of the situation. He rubbed his forehead, feeling the slight ache there begin to build. The two men stood in silence for some time, before Gabriel finally spoke. "If we find nothing here, our next course of action should be to return to the archives. Somewhere, there must be an indication of where to look next. We just can't see it."
