doorways lived protected for so long.
Each doorway appeared to open up to a small representation of the respective city the labelled plaque above its entrance announced. Each representation appeared to have been constructed of an extraordinary material that reflected the light of an artificial sun-like object floating in the air above it. A glow was emitted from a particular building. They went close and saw what from its shape looked like a receptor for the key each of them was holding.
According to the scroll all three keys had to be inserted and turned at the same time. Aristo, Giorgos and Vasilis went through their respective openings and each stood by the respective receptor of his key. Giorgos was leading this part of the mission.
‘OK, guys, ready?’
‘Yes.’ Replied Aristo and Vasilis in unison.
‘Insert.’
‘Done.’
‘Three… two… one… go.’ The three keys were turned at the same time.
Nothing happened for a few seconds. Then suddenly there was an almighty roar as if there was an earthquake that was shifting continental plates. It was the sound of rock sliding on rock.
The simultaneous action activated the walkways that started from under them and extended to the central structure. Aristo, Giorgos and Vasilis exited their respective caverns and stood by the edge of the tunnel on their respective sides.
The walkways were narrow and below them there was a huge chasm. There were a couple of near misses and slips, with an undoubtedly fatal destiny waiting for them in the seemingly bottomless pit below, but they managed to hold onto each other and stay firmly planted on the walkways.
But the cross was a daunting task, at the same time terrifying and, for that reason, agonisingly slow, as they knew it could be an expensive venture that cost them their precious lives.
They were relieved when they finally reached, from opposite directions, the main structure floating in the middle of the cavern. The team was reunited once more.
Elli, Katerina, Aristo, Vasilis, Giorgos and John simply paused for a while where they stood, comfortably away from the walkway and the edge, the highway to oblivion and entrance to the underworld. They all felt they needed to catch their breath before moving on.
Soon they came up to a chamber and any words they may have had were trapped and died in their throat, without so much as an effort to escape, without so much as a sliver of sound, their vocal chords lost the hang of their ability to vibrate and resonate with any substance.
In the middle of the room on a raised platform, but held by glittering chains suspended from the ceiling was a glass casket. Inside was an embalmed body dressed in royal regalia. The regalia of none other than the Palaiologi dynasty and the last Emperor Konstantinos XI Palaiologos. Bewildered, they went closer.
Eleni’s dismembered body was placed inside the drawer that had come out from under the Emperor’s sarcophagus and had the label Eleni on the inside of its open lid.
They poured one of the phials of blood from Iakovos into its receptacle, the small bowl next to the sarcophagus. The other they used to douse Eleni’s body parts and the lid of the Emperor’s sarcophagus.
They then placed the Likureian icons on the chest of the Emperor’s sculpted likeness on the lid of the sarcophagus as was clear that was the space made for them.
The Book of the Pallanians, together with its sevenpage part “On the Pallanian Resurrection”, was placed inside the sarcophagus on the Emperor’s real chest now reassembled from the parts collected through the openings in the tunnel.
The Emperor’s parts were reassembled inside the sarcophagus. The Emperor’s ring with the Imperial seal was placed on the finger of the Emperor’s sculpted likeness on the lid of his sarcophagus.
Giorgos noticed a little cameo on the edge of the ruby stone seal that started to glow at the moment it slid onto the stone finger. He touched the ruby stone seal and a tiny scroll started to roll out.
They watched as it transformed slowly into a multiple of images one after the other until, finally, like a roulette ball that stopped turning and lodged itself at a random number, it stopped at the image of three people, two of which they recognised; the identity of the third they guessed.
The Emperor’s eyes came to life; the muscles, veins and arteries and skin began to contract and expand and move; each cell, each part slotting into place as if by magic, literally attaining the ambition of a second chance for a life of its own, or directed by a software programme to carry out its appointed function.
The Emperor rose and stood before them in the flesh. Next to him was Eleni Symitzis and in the middle was a child, each of his hands held by each of his parents.
A voice rose above the deafening din of silence. The voice spoke in a strange language, in Byzantine Greek, then in Giorgos’ and the others’ language, Modern Greek; involuntarily all present showed their respect and submission to the Emperor in two stages.
As a first stage they fell to the floor in front of the tomb taking the kneeling position. For the second stage they bowed to the Emperor.
‘You have earned the reward of the temple of wisdom. There is no other reward, no greater power as some may misleadingly and wishfully have believed. Thank you.’
As soon as the Emperor had uttered his final word, he, Eleni and their child and before now missing heir, turned and looked above them where the upper part of the dome started to slowly come down towards Giorgos and the others present.
On its way down its shape changed to a building very much like that of the Library of Alexandria. The structure landed at their feet and its doors flew open. Aristo and Giorgos were completely thrown off balance from the shock of another encounter with a nemesis from the recent past.
For it was none other than Ptolemy who stood in profile at the door with his back to the wall, and gestured his welcome to the intruders, a clear-as-day-follows-night invitation to enter.
As Giorgos and the others passed in front of him into the interior of the Library, Ptolemy stood at attention and saluted and bowed to each member of the team passing in front of him, for his mission had been accomplished and he could now rest. He had delivered his legacy to the next generation of caretaker successors and he was happy.
CHAPTER 64
Limassol, Cyprus
Present day
Three figures had followed behind them into the central structure and hid there watching. The Madame Marcquesa walked in front. Iraklios and Andrew brought up the rear. Suddenly the Marcquesa saw Katerina and, in her, she saw her nemesis and instrument of her revenge.
If that were to be her final day then that would be her final act. She was goaded on by her warped mind that told her that that act was in her destiny and that then she would have salvation, but, satisfyingly, she would take the people she hated with her, physically or mentally, by leaving them scarred for life, or so she hoped.
The Marcquesa sought revenge. She wanted to hurt Elli. She could have done it through Aristo, but that would have been too easy. That’s why she decided to eliminate Katerina.
Her loss would devastate Aristo and in turn seeing her child suffer would eat away at Elli. Of course Elli cared for Katerina in her own right and so her pain would be worse.
Obsessed with only one thing she launched herself on an unsuspecting Katerina. But for some reason it was as if a guardian angel had a soft spot for Katerina. The Marcquesa began to suspect that she was fighting a mirrored image of Katerina.
She was sure of it. Because anything the Marcquesa threw at Katerina either went through her and caused her no harm or bounced back at the Marcquesa who was left bewildered. She was exhausting herself. Her power
