The Gatekeeper

Chapter Three: Chain of Custody

One by one, the suits of armour began to advance, clinking hollowly as they went. Moira grabbed Erica's arm and yanked it, coaxing her into a run.

"What are those things?" Erica cried.

"Suits of armour."

A low grumble of frustration bubbled in Erica's throat. "Thank you, Sherlock. I can see that. But where I'm from, suits of armour don't move when nobody is in them."

"Well, they do here." Moira banked sharply, bolting through an archway on their left.

Erica desperately followed her guide, finding herself dashing towards a staircase that veered sharply upward. Her legs burned as she ascended.

Erica had never been athletic by any standard. She swam with the grace and form of a drowning drunk, had the hand-eye coordination of a toddler and often tripped over her own feet or sometimes over nothing at all. She only prayed that she didn't topple over now.

As they approached the top, an open doorway was waiting for them. Below, the suits advanced, rattling wildly. The din reminded Erica of the time one of her kitchen shelves broke and sent all her pots and pans tumbling to the tiled floor.

Neither wasted any time as they bolted through the available opening into an expansive library. Moira secured the door with a wooden bolt. Seconds later a heavy clatter erupted against the wood making Erica jump.

"Will it hold ...?" She asked, turning to Moira.

"Not for long."

Erica swallowed hard and followed Moira as she darted along one of the many maze-like paths set between the countless towering bookshelves that stretched from floor to ceiling. Eventually the two made it to the far end of the cavernous room. The bookshelves stopped about ten feet from the back wall, where a solid oak door waited for them. Moira, already armed with a key, approached it quickly.

At the other side of the library a resounding crash echoed off the vaulted ceiling. The door had been broken down. The tinny march of the suits was joined by a long, guttural roar.

"It's the gargoyle." Moira said slowly, lining her key with the hole. "Erica, quickly, with me."

Erica obliged, staying close to her saviours side, watching her slide the key into the old brass lock.

Once the key was securely in place, Moira twisted. At first nothing happened. Then, a thin tendril of light snaked from the keyhole and struck Moira in the chest like a bolt of lightning, causing her to hurtle backwards and thump hard to the cold, flagstone stone floor.

Erica let out a squeal of surprise, unsure of what to do.

Moira pushed herself up and shook her head, a little dazed but otherwise unharmed.

"Are you okay? What happened?" Erica said, helping her up.

Moira glanced at the door as her fingers sought her keys. "I'm not sure ..." When she touched the one she had used, she knew something wasn't right. Lifting it up, she saw it was bent, the bits distorted and smoking.

The bookcase near them shuddered seconds before the gargoyle and suits of armour barrelled around the corner towards them.

"Get to the door." Moira instructed, deftly flicking through the multitude of keys on the chain. Erica complied, shuffling backwards as the peculiar but none the less frightening gang marched towards them.

The next key Moira drew shimmered, growing in size, morphing to fit the keyhole. Once its transformation was complete, Moira pushed it into the lock and twisted. Light seeped in around the edges of the door, growing in intensity. A series of clunks, clicks and whirs could be heard on the other side of the door. Moira pulled on the door handle, grasped Erica's arm tightly and hauled her through the door which slammed closed behind them.