Hellgate London - Exodus Part 23

He'd thought about telling her to stay with the others, but he hadn't been able to. In his weakened condition, he didn't want to be alone in the company of strangers. Not even ones that seemed sincere about helping him. Kelli wouldn't be much help if there was a problem, but she was familiar.

"It's a Blood Angel," one of the men seated on the floor around them answered. "A h.e.l.lish thing, it is. Clever and deadly."

"Oh." Kelli pulled the blanket a little tighter.

Warren watched the demon lazily flap its wings. Then it dove and disappeared once more into the forest of tall buildings that made up downtown London. Low clouds and the noxious fog streaming from the h.e.l.lgate obscured the view.

"Liam," Malcolm called from the front of the vehicle.

"Yes." Liam was young, his face littered with tattoos and piercings. He dressed all in black and had three horns jutting up from his narrow head. Scabs crusted the horns, showing that they were new additions freshly grafted on.

"Are there any more of them about?"

Liam stared into the distance. Warren felt the energy surrounding the young man and knew that Liam was seeing with something other than his normal vision.

"No," Liam replied. "They've gone from this immediate vicinity. We're safe enough for the moment." Malcolm gave the driver orders to pull back onto the road. The panel van jerked into motion and pulled out from beneath a tree.

The demon patrols were the heaviest at night, Warren had known. And they targeted vehicular traffic, drawn by the sound as well as the scents given off by the exhaust.

Warren rested, leaning back against the van wall. Malcolm had offered to take him to a Cabalist retreat, so he could be shown what they had to offer him. Knowing that only a fight remained for him to have at his flat, and that he was going to need to learn more in order to survive, Warren had agreed.

But the choice hadn't been an easy one. He didn't like change in his life, but so many things already had.

He was afraid he was one of them.

Less than an hour later, they were deep within the Mayfair district, out beyond the reach of the city. Residences out here were separated by vast tracts of land, much of it unimproved. Several of the houses had horse farms.

The twisted, bare limbs of trees stripped by the harsh breath of winter lined the crooked road. Warren guessed by the narrowness of the road that they were on a private lane.

A moment later, the van slowed, then turned and pulled toward the ma.s.sive wrought-iron gates of an estate. The driver brought the vehicle to a stop.

One of the men in the cargo area got out. He trotted forward and opened the ma.s.sive gates so the van could pa.s.s through.

Looking through the front winds.h.i.+eld, Warren stared at the immense snow-covered grounds inside the high stone walls. Surely t.i.tled gentry lived here.

"What is this place?" Warren asked.

"The home of one of our benefactors," Malcolm answered. "He's one of the strongest in our group. His name is Hedgar Tulane. You'll be meeting him in a little while."

Warren knew the name. "Tulane? The communications mogul?" From what he remembered, Tulane owned a few communications groups that included television, radio, and newspapers.

"Yes."

"He's a Cabalist?"

"Yes. As was his father and his father's father before him."

That had been a closely guarded secret. Warren knew that if such a thing had gotten out it might very well have meant the end of the man's status, and his business profile.

The van bucked across the trail leading to the main house, a ma.s.sive four-story structure that almost resembled a palace sitting in the snow. No lights showed in any of the windows.

A moment later, the driver pulled to a stop before the house. The windows remained dark and the door remained closed. Warren had expected a houseman at the very least to greet them. They always did on the vids.

"Doesn't appear to be anyone home," Kelli announced.

"No one aboveground," Malcolm agreed. "Wouldn't do for us to be so exposed, now would it?"

A man opened the cargo door.

Warren got out, stepping into the cold wind. Even inside the van, he'd been warm from the heater and from having the wind blocked from him.

Malcolm took a torch from his coat pocket and led the way. Armed men stood guard over the door, so cloaked in shadows that Warren hadn't seen them until he was almost upon them.

Hooves thudded against the snow-covered earth. The sound was so loud and surprising that Warren truly expected to find himself under attack.

When he looked, though, it wasn't snarling demons that had created the sounds. Instead, five horses stood at a corral fence only a short distance away. Warren had no idea what kind they were. When they breathed out, though, plumes of gray fog flared through their nostrils. They stamped the snow into mud.

"Horses," Kelli said. Her voice held a note of awed pleasure.

"Yes," Malcolm agreed. "As long as they remain alive and there are no attacks by the demons out here, we'll have fresh meat."

"What?" Kelli gasped in disbelief. "You're eating the horses? That's inhuman. They're...they'rehorses." Warren looked at her, mildly astonished that after all the death and destruction she'd seen inside the city that she could be concerned over the welfare of horses.

"Better we eat the horses than the demons eat them," Malcolm replied. "Horse meat isn't so bad after a while, and if the cook knows how to tenderize the cuts, it's more than palatable." Then he went through the door.

Kelli looked at Warren in disgust. "You didn't say anything about them eating horses," she accused. Warren didn't bother pointing out that he hadn't known. He turned and followed Malcolm through the door.

Inside the house, Warren was impressed by the size, and the obvious wealth that filled the numerous rooms. His boots echoed against the tiled floor, letting him know how cavernous the rooms were.

They pa.s.sed through the foyer and Grand Ballroom and walked into a study just off to the right. Books filled shelves. Beautiful exhibits of Asian history filled more shelves. Warren had no doubts that much of it was expensive.

Malcolm walked to the large fireplace that took up most of one full wall. When it was lit and there was a fire burning in the hearth, Warren felt certain the heat would have filled the room easily.

Pressing his hand against a sequence of stones framing the fireplace, Malcolm waved to them to join him inside. Warren and Kelli did so. Standing in the fireplace, though, Warren felt inordinately foolish.

Then the fireplace jerked into motion, spinning around on hidden pivot points. Immediately behind the fireplace was a set of narrow stairs that descended into the earth.

Malcolm took the lead at once, descending into the inky blackness with his torch lighting the way before him. "This way," he urged, standing on the narrow steps that curved down into the darkness.

Warren hesitated. But there wasn't a choice. Going back to the flat might have been possible, but he wasn't ready to deal with what was going on there. He set himself, took a final breath, then followed Malcolm.

"Hedgar Tulane's forebears took advantage of the natural caves under his ancestral home," Malcolm said as they went down the spiral stairs cut from the cave itself. "They had to have a bit of modification done here and there, but for the most part they just made the most of what was already here."

Even with his newly acquired ability to see in the dark, Warren wasn't able to see much. The smooth texture of the cave walls around them spoke of much usage.

"The Tulanes used this place back in World War II, during the raids," Malcolm said. "Of course, the people who were allowed here weren't shown all of the secrets. They've always protected their Cabalists beliefs from unbelievers. But there was some overlap of that during the Second World War. Hitler's minions were after many of the same powerful talismans our organization pursued." He stopped and played his torch over the large pool of water to the left. "Watch your step here. It's actually quite deep. And cold."

As Warren watched, a handful of fish surfaced and kissed the air.

"It's drinking water." Malcolm swung his torch around to show a trail that skirted the pool to the right.

"The limestone in the bedrock in this area makes a natural filtration system. It's a bit heavy with minerals, if you ask me, but it can keep a man alive. We filter it a bit more to get out some of the taste."

Warren crossed the damp trail. The rocks felt slippery and his stomach convulsed as he thought about falling into the water. He'd never been a strong swimmer. In his present condition, though he felt stronger, he doubted he'd be able to save himself.

Only a short distance farther on, they entered another pa.s.sageway that barely allowed Warren to walk through standing upright. Light glimmered in the distance and he thought they were headed there.

Instead, Malcolm halted midway down the pa.s.sageway and stood facing the wall. A moment later, the wall opened onto a smaller pa.s.sageway.

Two armed guards in military riot gear stood post at a small landing. Security vids showed brightly on the wall behind them. Two cameras mounted on the ceiling of the pa.s.sageway focused on the new arrivals.

Malcolm gave their names and said that they were expected. One of the guards nodded and waved them forward.

Entering the pa.s.sageway, Warren followed Malcolm to the left. The descent was much steeper than the last pa.s.sageway, and he felt certain the designers and builders had taken advantage of a natural cave formation to lay in the pa.s.sageway. The carved stone stair steps followed the striations in the rock.

Near the bottom, Warren spied light. It was weak at first, but grew stronger as they neared. Eventually they emerged into a well-lighted cave filled with computer equipment.

"This is one of the communications centers we keep here," Malcolm said, waving to the computers and the people who manned them.

"Is this where most of the Cabalists are?" Warren asked.

"This cave system?" Malcolm shook his head. "Of course not. There are far more of us than this place can hold. But this is one of the strategic locations for-" He paused. "What you might consider research and development, I suppose."

"Do any Cabalists live within the city? In the Underground?"

Malcolm nodded. "A few. But primarily the larger gatherings of our group are outside the city. At least at the moment. The Cabalists initially moved out of London during the nineteenth century to avoid detection. A few of our const.i.tuents started discussing what we knew about magic much too freely. Spirit boxes and seances became all the rage. They were interested in talking to ghosts, though, not contacting the demonic world as we were trying to do. Currently, there is some talk of moving our operations back to London." "Why?"

Malcolm began leading them to another pa.s.sageway. "To be closer to the nexus of power, of course." "What nexus of power?"

"The h.e.l.lgate. Surely you've felt the backlash of it lessen as we've come out here."

Warren had felt a decrease in the pressure he'd felt while in London, but he hadn't recognized it for what it was. His mind seemed less clouded, less busy, but at the same time that part of himself that he'd known belonged to his power of suggestion had seemed less strong and less certain.

"Yes," he answered.

"In order to properly study the powers the demons possess, we need to be there. Where the magic and power flows at its most primitive form." Malcolm paused in front of a wall. He put his hand out and looked at Warren. "Can you touch this?"

Warren stretched forth a hand and placed it against the wall. It felt solid and grainy, not as smooth as the other walls.

"Yes," he replied.

Malcolm smiled. "The real question is whether you can pa.s.s through." Then he stepped forward and pa.s.sed through the stone.

Astonished, Warren trailed his fingers across the stone surface.It's got to be a trick. He can't just have walked through solid stone.

"Where did he go?" Kelli asked.

"I don't know." Warren pressed both hands against the stone, searching for a trigger or a release of some kind that would reveal an opening.There can't be an opening. I didn't see one. I would have seen an opening. I was standing right here.

"You can pa.s.s through, Warren," Malcolm encouraged from the other side of the stone. "You just have to align yourself."

Align myself?Warren pressed against the stone and sought to understand what kind of alignment Malcolm might have been referring to. He stared at the stone and tried to see through it the way he'd tried to see through the darkness when he'd gone to the Cabalist meeting.

At first, all he saw was the solid stone. Then, just as he was about to deem the task impossible, he saw configurations that took shape within the stone. The rock wall was made up of several two-dimensional planes that didn't quite touch. In fact, some of them were loose enough that Warren found he could shove them aside. Most of them didn't move easily, though. They moved slowly, and it took a great deal of effort to s.h.i.+ft them.

Even as he unlocked the secret of the wall, he also felt the alignment within himself. Pieces of himself seemed to s.h.i.+ft as well. Almost unconsciously, drawn by the excitement of this new knowledge, he stepped forward through the wall.

Twenty-Six.

Moving through the rock was like walking against a strong river current.

Warren thought about what would happen if he didn't make it through the rock, wondering if the s.h.i.+fting patterns could slip beyond his control and rip him apart. The way suddenly seemed much harder. Panic thrummed inside his head.

"Don't think about failure," a man's voice commanded. "You have to a.s.sert yourself over what you think of as the natural laws. Only part of how you've perceived the world is true. Many things that you've considered impossible are going to be possible for you. You've just got to master what lies within you."

Concentrating again on the whirling two-dimensional shapes, Warren pushed through. A moment later, he stood inside another cave. This one was more elaborate, more finished. Arcane drawings that glowed with power adorned the walls. Gla.s.s cases and shelves held all kinds of objects. A lab stretched out behind Malcolm and another man as they stood and smiled at Warren.

The other man was almost seven feet tall. His body was elongated like an insect's. His head looked ma.s.sive, broad forehead and long-jawed. Tightly cropped reddish hair covered his head. Tattoos and scars covered every square inch of skin that Warren could see. Two curving horns a foot in length jutted up from his temples and flared into three points. He looked like he was in his late twenties.

The man's appearance immediately put Warren to mind of Cernunnos, the Horned One from Celtic legend. Cernunnos was supposed to represent horned male animals and fertility. The G.o.d had been featured in a few of the books Warren's mother had read in her studies of the arcane.

"Ah, you've arrived," the man said.

"I told you he was strong," Malcolm said, looking pleased.

The horned man drew a symbol in the air. Warren saw a ghostly afterimage for just a moment, then it vanished. But he felt a wolf's warm, fetid breath over him. Since he'd never had a wolf breathe on him, though, he wondered how he knew what the sensation was like. But he was convinced that was what it had been.

"I never doubted you." The horned man gazed at Warren in open speculation. "But being able doesn't mean that he will choose to embrace his ability."

"The demons have marked him," Malcolm said. "Look at him."

Warren grew self-conscious of his burns and pulled his cloak more tightly about him. "Who are you?"

"I am Hedgar Tulane," the man answered. "Welcome to my home." "Warren!"

Hearing Kelli through the stone wall, Warren reached back for her, negotiating the spinning two-dimensional shapes much easier this time. "Take my hand." When he felt her fingers in his, he pulled her through the wall. A moment later Kelli stood inside the cave with him. Malcolm and Tulane stared at him.

"She's with me," Warren said defensively. "Where I go, she goes."

"Of course," Tulane said. "I'm just surprised that you could pull her through the wall like that. It's one thing to negotiate pa.s.sage yourself, but I've never seen anyone who could bring another through." He paused, examining Warren more closely. "Working with you, helping you discover your true potential, is going to be exciting."

Warren bristled at that. "I didn't come here to be someone's science project."