The Judas Strain (Page 76)

The window cast a cross of sunlight across a waist-high slab of stone.

The chapel’s altar.

The room was otherwise empty.

But not unadorned.

Across every surface—walls, floor, roof, even the altar—crosses had been carved into the stone. Hundreds, if not thousands of them. They varied from ones no larger than a thumbprint to ornate, life-size giants.

"No wonder they call it the room of crosses," Vigor said.

"Yeah, real serial-killer chic," Kowalski commented sourly. "Must be all that island inbreeding."

Gray studied the expanse of crosses, remembering the faint cross inscribed into the marble tile in Hagia Sophia. He pulled out the silver cross, Friar Agreer’s crucifix. "Now all we have to do is find the one that matches this."

Vigor stepped over and asked Fee’az to leave them alone here.

He seemed confused until the monsignor pointed to the cross in Gray’s fingers.

"We must pray," the monsignor explained. "We will come out when we are done."

The boy quickly stepped away, nodding. He could not dart out quick enough, plainly fearful of being caught while a Christian ceremony was performed. From his speed, he must suspect they’d be sacrificing babies.

Once they were alone, Gray scratched his head, momentarily daunted, too conscious of the press of time. "One of these crosses must be an exact match to Friar Agreer’s crucifix. We must find which one."

He split the party up.

Four of them, four walls.

And that still left floor and ceiling.

Gray placed the cross on the altar, readily available for each person to grab and compare. He also ripped four pages out of his notebook and traced the cross’s shape, crib sheets for each.

As they all searched, Gray noted the shift of the sunlight across the altar, creeping steadily as the sun set, as time escaped him. He finished his wall. Nothing. Sweat poured; his clothes clung to his skin. He started on the floor. The others, one at a time, joined him. Seichan worked on the altar.

The most important cross—the one formed of sunshine—continued to inch inexorably across the room.

"Not on the floor either," Vigor said, red-faced, straightening from his knees. He stood, one hand supporting his lower back.

Behind the altar, Seichan shook her head.

No luck either.

Gray stared up.

The roof was low, but not low enough to touch. It would require much lifting to test every cross up there that might be the right size.

"Maybe I was wrong," Vigor said. "Maybe Kokejin’s tomb is somewhere else in the castle. All these crosses may be a false lead."

Gray shook his head. No. They had lost a full hour already. They didn’t have time to search every nook and cranny of the castle by hand. They had committed to the chapel. There was no turning back, no second-guessing.

"Kokejin’s tomb must be here," Gray insisted.

Vigor sighed. "Then that leaves us the ceiling."

Gray assigned Kowalski to help boost the monsignor up. He stepped over to Seichan’s side.

"Man, 1 got the raw end of this deal," Kowalski griped.

Ignoring him, Vigor pointed to the walls. "We’ll start along the outer edges. You two do the middle."

Seichan climbed onto the altar. "I can reach the ones above here by myself."

As she stood, a cross of sunlight lit her back. She had stripped out of her vest and only wore a black T-shirt. Gray noted her curves as she reached up, the stretch of cotton over breast. Despite all his worries, a part of him was still male enough to appreciate it… yet he was still man enough to feel guilty about it.

Now wasn’t the time …

"I think I see a possibility . .." Seichan mumbled, extending to her toes, stretching higher.

Then she winced and came down on her heels. Her hand cupped her left side. She had strained her wound.

Gray climbed up next to her. "Let me help you."

He offered her a leg up, lacing his hands together into a stirrup.

She picked up the silver crucifix, then stepped into his hands.

As he straightened and lifted her, she balanced one hand atop his head and reached the crucifix toward the ceiling. Her left buttock was pressed against his cheek.

Oh, yeah, he was going to hell.

"I think… I think. . ." Seichan whispered. "It fits! This mark’s carved deep, and the crucifix snugs right into it. A perfect match!"

Gray craned up, but all he could see were the underside of her br**sts.

"Can you tell what Christ is staring at?" he asked, remembering Hagia Sophia.

"Down at the altar," she answered, but she seemed distracted. "The crucifix is seated in a circular block of stone. When I pushed the crucifix in there, I thought I felt something click. And the stone almost seems loose. With the crucifix in place, I think I can turn it. Maybe loosen it free."

"I don’t think you should—"

He heard a scrape of stone. A loud clank sounded, but it came not from above. Gray stared down between his toes.

The altar dropped from under his feet, falling straight through the floor, taking Gray with it.

Seichan tumbled into his arms, hugging tight to his neck.

The stone slab hit the ground with a jarring impact, dropping Gray to one knee. Dust flumed up. One of the floor bricks broke away, smashed into the altar, and bounced away into the darkness that lay ahead.

Gray stared up. Though it had scared the breath out of him, they had fallen only four feet. Vigor and Kowalski stared down at them.

"1 think you found something, Indiana," Kowalski said with a smirk. He passed over a flashlight.

Gray rolled his eyes, but he accepted the flashlight. Seichan climbed off him, dusting herself off. Crouching, Gray pointed his light into the chamber revealed under the chapel. A dark archway beckoned.

He slid off the altar stone to the floor, Seichan at his shoulder.

Vigor and Kowalski climbed down to follow.

Two crossed arches formed the roof of a small chamber, half the size of the upper chapel. Lit by his flashlight, a low niche was cut into the back wall, framed in another archway.

"A loculi," Vigor said. "A tomb."

Within the niche, a body lay stretched across the bare stone, covered in folds of white cloth.

"Kokejin’s tomb," Vigor said. "We found it."

Despite the excitement, they approached solemnly. Gray and Vigor stepped up. They needed to be sure. Vigor blessed their trespass with the sign of the cross and a mumbled prayer.

The monsignor reached a hand to the burial shroud.

"If something moves," Kowalski whispered, dead serious, "I’m out of here. Just so you know."