“To interpret the demon language,” Leah said quietly.
“That’s right,” Simon replied. He lifted his palm and shined the torchlightover the walls. Writing covered the irregular surfaces.
Every square inch of space was overlaid by symbols and letters. The hand wasn’t always steady, but it had obviously been determined. Simon saved imagesof the writing through his HUD interface.
“If I didn’t know better,” Nathan said, “I’d think a madman had been at thewalls.”
That drew only a few dry chuckles from the Templar. The atmosphere inside the cage was to somber and sad for much more than that.
“Macomber didn’t know how Duvalier been able to translate as much of thedemon language as he had,” Simon said. “The student at first had believed thatDuvalier was creating an artificial language.”
“The student thought Duvalier was only having on his doctors andcontemporaries?” Nathan asked.
“Yes. It was only when the student studied the papers Macomber had writtenbefore the professor had been locked away in the sanitarium that the student realized the language wasn’t just localized to Duvalier.”
“Duvalier grafted the demon’s finger onto his hand.” Simon followed thehaphazard columns of letters written on the walls.
“Where did he get the idea for that?” Leah asked.
“Macomber didn’t know. I don’t think he knew that Duvalier had grafted onthis extra finger. At least not then. After he escaped the Parisian sanitarium, he saw some of the Cabalists in Paris that had demon parts grafted onto their bodies. He suspected then because it had been mentioned in the doctor’s notesthat Duvalier had a sixth finger on his right hand.”
“When did that sort of thing start?” Leah asked.
“I don’t know,” Simon answered.
“Transplants have always been a source of mystery and the medical field,”Danielle put in. “Some of the first things that were tried were teeth and largerbody parts like hands and arms.”
“Yum,” Nathan said sarcastically. “Nothing I like more than having this kindof conversation after battling a Grotesque while we’re stuck in a grotto of deadserial killers and mass murderers.”
“They weren’t all serial killers and mass murderers,” Daniel replied.
“Enough of them were, if you ask me.”
Leah stood beside Simon. “These are Duvalier’s translations?”
“Yes.” Simon studied the wall.
“Duvalier isn’t exactly an English name,” Nathan observed.
“It’s French,” Simon said.
“Glad we got that cleared up, mate.”
“Duvalier came to England to study some of the texts that were here. When hetried to steal them from the Royal Libraries, he ended up killing a guard. At his trial he talked about the demons and the need to protect humanity from them.”
“It’s a wonder he didn’t get a trip to the gallows.”
“The university he taught for preferred the idea of him being a madman ratherthan a murderer. A deal was worked out.”
“What are we looking for?” Leah asked.
“According to Macomber, Duvalier blackmailed a colleague into bringing a copyof the Goetia manuscript into the sanitarium. Duvalier also paid off guards to let him work on the manuscript. At the time, bribery was a major source of income for the police and guards.”
“Besides Duvalier was just a mad Frenchman and it didn’t matter,” Leah said.
“Either way,” Simon said. “There is supposed to be a copy of the manuscriptdown here.”
“In this room?” Nathan turned to survey the walls.
“The clues as to the location are supposed to be here,” Simon replied.
“Mate, if you can make sense of this gibberish, then you’re a better man thanI. If it’s written in codeand in Frenchwe’re not going tohello. What’sthis?”
Simon abandoned the wall he was looking at and went to join Nathan. “What?”
“What did you say the name of that manuscript was?” Nathan asked.
“Goeria,” Leah said as she joined in.
“Okay, but it had another name, right?”
“The Lesser Key of Solomon,” Simon answered.
“Maybe it’s just wishful thinking on my part, but this looks like a map ofthe underground section of the sanitarium.” Nathan rested his finger on threeconcentric circles drawn and in isometric scale so they were shown at a thirty-degree angle and 3-D presentation to the viewer. An arrow pointing upward was drawn to the center them.
At first glance, the drawing could have easily been mistaken for some of the other writing Duvalier had done. The second concentric circle had a stick figure drawing of a man with a book in hand.
But on the third concentric circle there was a small, unmistakable drawing of a key.
“A lesser key, right?” Nathan asked.
It was as good a guess as Simon could make. If it was wrong, they could come back.
“All right,” he said. “Let’s go.”
TWENTY-NINE
Go carefully in this place.
Warren froze as soon as he heard Merihim’s warning in his head. Flattened upagainst the wall at the curve of the stairway leading to the third floor of the subterranean section of the sanitarium, he ordered the skeleton to halt as well.
“What?” Jonas asked.
A scritching noise could be heard in the darkness ahead.
“Rats,” Jonas said. “That’s all it is. Nothing to get riled over.”
“This place has been closed down for a long time,” Warren whispered. “There’snothing left down here for rats to eat.”
“Maybe you’re not as brave as you think you are.”
Warren ignored the skeleton and quietly made his way up the staircase. He peered around the corner and saw movement in the shadows halfway down the hall. He enhanced his vision further and saw the monstrous shape prowling the hallway.
Judging by the height of the hallway, assuming that it was as tall as the previous one, Warren guessed that the demon stood twelve feet tall. Since the hallway only went to seven feet, Hargastor had to lean forward and walk on his knuckles like an ape. The gait suited the demon, though. He was broad and blocky.
Four horns stuck out from the sides of Hargastor’s bullet head and flaredslightly upward like a bull’s horns. His skin was muscled purple and black withthreads of scarlet running through it. He carried a massive war hammer over one shoulder. Several Darkspawn trailed at his heels.
Warren’s immediate impulse was to
