Book of Fates ✔

A crypt

"We're here," Alexander said, and his words ripped Leir out of his depressing memories.

They all were in a vast city square, polished paving slabs gleaming in the light of the sun leaning to the horizon, and colorful flower beds outlining the snaking paths.

Holding his breath, Leir looked at the city settled down beyond the square—thousands of crooked houses under the infinite dome of cerulean sky, surrounded by majestic hills and mountains. He remembered words he'd heard once.

No matter what evil one can carry in his head, there is always a place for beauty and love in one's heart.

In the middle of the plaza, a cathedral of red stones stood, two smaller churches on each side of it.

"Are you serious?" Charna flicked her eyes to their human companion. "Alexander, Leir helped you to read the map for us to visit these ruins? You swore the book was inside a sacred Inca's sanctuary! Is it the impregnable fortress of yours? Who can possibly guard the artefact here? Nuns?"

Tane sniggered. "Ancient nuns."

"No. The Book of Fates is not here," Alexander echoed dryly. He didn't appreciate the joke. "Your map shows the route as it was centuries ago, when the Inca Empire ruled over the lands. The world has changed since then if you haven't noticed."

"Everything goes according to the plan, Charna, don't worry," Leir assured her.

"That is why I need another map of those times," Anya's father went on. "To figure out exactly where we're going. All the old documents of Incas are here."

"Aye, we got it. The map is not a GPS, it's not updated," Tane rolled his eyes. "Shall we?"

The fomoires and Alexander approached the cathedral. It was getting late, so the visiting hours were over, the entrance iron gates closed.

Alexander signed. "We'd have to wait till morning."

"We don't have time," Leir retorted and headed along the brick wall, into the courtyard.

The others followed. They soon found themselves facing a back door made of the same iron, a massive lock hanging on it.

"And how are we going to crack it?" Anya's father shifted his eyes to Tane, taunting. "Any compliments that work on nuns?"

"Compliments aren't the only strength of mine." Tane reached into a pocket of his leather jacket and brought out a set of picklocks. He thought for a moment, his gaze traveling from the instruments to the lock and back, then chose a minor pick, drew a deep breath, and jammed the pick into a keyhole.

Tane's face was determined and rather pleased as he was listening to the sounds of soft creaking inside the mechanism. Oh, Leir knew this joyful face—it accompanied him not once while breaking into the places in Pateal, places nobody was supposed to be able to break in.

A couple minutes, and the lock gently squeaked. The door willingly opened.

"I don't know about Da'Ariya, but here, on Earth, you're perfect burglars," Alexander nodded and stepped in first.

"And apparently, you're one of us now," Tane quipped, hiding his picklock back in the pocket.

The cathedral hall was consumed by grave silence. As Leir entered, he stopped for an instant, listening to the reverberation of his footsteps disappear. Silly idea rushed through his mind—the image of the dead, invisible to an ordinary eye, awakening at the sight of people walking the holly ground.

Would the spirits know our intentions? Would they stop us? Nonsense. No sprit would waste their time hunting down a dishonest thief. I wouldn't have.