Stone of Fire: An ARKANE Thriller (Book 1)

Chapter 32

“No need for any unpleasantness. You,” he gestured to Jake, “move away from the trapdoor.”
     The man who spoke was tall with a rangy athleticism and a shock of grey-silver hair. He wore a black military style jumpsuit with sleeves rolled up. No academic posturing for this team. Morgan could see the pale horse tattoo on his forearm.
“Down on your knees.” He pointed with his gun. “You won’t be going on this part of the journey. Thanatos wants all the stones and it looks like the good Doctor will be finding the next one for us.”
     As Jake moved he caught Morgan’s eye and nodded slightly, feinting away from her. Morgan hurled herself to the floor, commando rolling towards him. Shots rang out. Jake used the distraction to dive onto the man. Morgan drew her gun but too late. A bullet glanced her shoulder and spun her to the floor where she lay bleeding and weaponless. Jake managed to get in a punch before he was pulled off the man by two others. The leader slammed the butt of his gun into Jake’s temple, pistol whipping him to the floor where he lay on the edge of consciousness. Morgan knew their last stand had been useless and now she was alone. The leader walked over to Morgan, leaning over her panting form.
     “You just made it harder on yourself.”
     He put his boot onto her shoulder and leaned into the wound. She moaned, almost passing out from the pain, breathing faster as she tried to stay conscious. The silver haired man picked up Morgan’s backpack and checked inside for the precious cargo. With a smug grin, he slung it over his shoulder. “We’ll be taking the stones from here. Thanks for looking after them for us.”
    Morgan rolled to her knees, clutching her wounded shoulder. “But what about the stones Everett has?”
     “We’ll be getting those too before we return to Europe. The twelve will be together again, but in the hands of true believers, not filth like Everett. He’ll pay for crossing Thanatos.”
     “And my sister and niece?” She dared hope they would be spared.
     “I don’t have any orders for them,” he said. “Clearly they’re not important.”
     They are to me, Morgan thought, breathing a sigh of relief, despite the pain of her throbbing shoulder. It wasn’t over yet. The stones were never the important thing for her; it was always about her family.
“Enough talking. Let’s get the stone and get out of here.” He indicated Jake’s prone body to the other men. “Tie him up and leave him in the corner. We’re keeping him for interrogation later. He has valuable information about the other ARKANE projects and they’ll trade handsomely to get him back. This one’s coming with us.”
     He knelt and pulled up the trapdoor. It creaked on aged hinges to reveal a staircase spiraling down into the darkness. The men put on headlamps and dragged Morgan down into it. Her last glance above ground was at Jake, tied and unconscious by the door, blood trickling down his pale face to pool in the carpet beneath him.
     The first man forced Morgan ahead of him. She stumbled in the dark, a cry of pain escaping her lips.
     “Why do you need me, anyway? You can find the final stone yourself now.”
     “We heard about the traps in Tunisia, so we may need you to interpret any symbols along the way.”
     “Then what?”
     He laughed, pushing her faster down the stairs. “Oh, don’t you worry about that. There are plans for you as well as Timber.”
     They finally reached a small circular chamber at the bottom of the staircase. Again, there were three doors, a choice, just as in North Africa. But this time there was nothing was carved on these doors, they were just plain wood. Morgan felt apprehensive about the choice. She had made a mistake in Tunisia and it had cost a life. There was too much at stake, so she was desperate to get it right.
     “Which door?” the leader said. All eyes were on Morgan. She hesitated.
     “Your friend Jake could have a bullet in the back of his head with one word into this radio,” he threatened.
     Morgan awkwardly pulled out the mandala picture she had taken from the room upstairs. When she studied it more closely she could see it was slightly different from the original, with layers of information not present on the first version of the image. The mandala curled in on itself, the lines of the spiral colored like a map, with breaks that could indicate choices in the maze. If she followed the openings to the centre, perhaps it would lead them to the stone. The wasp sat in the bottom right of the picture, a beautifully painted tiny nightmare from the mind of Wolfgang Pauli. Her mind raced as she clung to her knowledge of Jung, the doubts swirling about her. But there were no other clues.
     “It’s the middle one,” she said, looking up from the mandala.
     “If you’re lying to us ...”
     “Look,” Morgan snapped. “I want to get the stone and save my family so let’s just get this over with. Quit hassling me.”
     He raised his hands in mock surrender, and nodded to one of the men.
     “You heard the lady. Open it.”
     The door swung open easily to reveal a twisting corridor.
     “OK, double time.”
     The group moved swiftly down the corridor into the blackness. It seemed to go on a long way. Morgan wondered where it would end up and what was above ground here. Why was the stone hidden in this way? Why was Pauli’s nightmare pointing them in this direction?
     The passage ended in a final door, with the sound of a buzzing hum behind it. An image of the twelve stones was carved into the door with wasps flying around them, weaving a complicated pattern. Stylized flames were engraved at the bottom of the door, reaching up towards the stones.
     “This has to be the place,” she said, examining the imagery.
     “What’s that noise?” One of the men said. “It sounds like a generator.”
     “I think I know what it might be,” Morgan pointed to the wasps on the mandala painting and the door. Pauli’s weapon was protected by his own nightmare.
“A few wasps won’t stop us getting the Pentecost stone,” the leader said, “but to be on the safe side, you and I will wait here.”
     The leader motioned for the other men to go inside. They pulled open the door and entered in formation, guns held high as they walked into the buzzing room. Morgan caught a quick glimpse inside before the heavy door swung itself shut behind them. She saw a plinth in the middle of the room lit from a skylight above. There were dark shapes hanging from the ceiling and a floor that seemed to be crawling with insects.
    It was quiet for a few seconds. Then the buzzing grew louder and the sound of gunfire and shouting came from inside. It quickly turned to screaming. The leader grabbed Morgan, and held his gun to her head.
     “What’s in there?” he shouted as the screaming slowly died, and the buzzing calmed again to a gentle hum. Now there were just the two of them in the corridor, gun held to her head and the man’s hand shaking. Morgan’s shoulder throbbed with the bullet wound but she felt a strange sense of calm descend as she contemplated what waited beyond the door.
     “Maybe they bred an unusual strain of wasps to protect the stone. There are killer wasps in Africa, larger and more vicious than we have here, and guns would have little effect. One of Jung’s disciples was a genetic engineer; perhaps they have a hybrid wasp of sorts protecting his secret.”
     The man pushed her towards the door, gun still pointed at her head. “Well, we have to get that stone, so it looks like you’re going in next.”
     Morgan took a deep breath and thought through her knowledge of Jung and Pauli. There must be a way to get the stone out, because all these devices were meant to allow the true disciple through unharmed. It was only a trap for those who didn’t have the right knowledge, the true gnosis. The corridor was a feature in Pauli’s dreams, and so was the wasp, but there was something she was missing.
    She focused on the circle around the wasp in the carving on the door, racking her brain for the right information. Maybe it represented a way to contain the wasps, or surround the seeker with protection, so the stone could be reached. The mandala seemed to indicate the door itself was a key of some kind. Inspired, she felt around the door frame. On the right hand side was a slight opening: she reached inside and found a key.
     Pulling it out, she showed the leader.
     “The door wasn’t locked. Why the key?” he said.
     “The Keepers surely designed some fail safe. Perhaps this activates it somehow.”
     “Great theory, crazy woman, but I’m not going in there. You go in, get the stone and I’ll be waiting here. If you don’t come out, then, hey, it’s all over anyway.”
     Morgan swallowed. She didn’t like wasps, but then who did? It was a rational human fear. They weren’t the stuff of her nightmares but the screams of the dying men who had entered before her still echoed round her head. A trickle of sweat ran down her back as she clenched her fists in determination. She had to face this fear head on because her own life was at stake now, and if she died, Faye and Gemma didn’t stand a chance. She took a deep breath, gently pushed open the door, and slid into the room.

***

You can buy this book and the rest of the ARKANE series in print, audio and ebook format at Amazon, Kobo and other online stores. You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see JFPenn.com Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!