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Trailing them, Sophia guarded their rear, her small form shadowing them like some elfin spirit. But Rhun knew the slight woman was as sharp as she was lithe, both deadly with her blades and quick to read an opponent’s weaknesses. Back in Prague, she had tangled with a grimwolf all by herself and lived to walk away. Few could make that claim.

Flanking Rhun to the left, the cub darted through the silvery-gray trunks of the beeches, as much on the scent of the blasphemare pack as Rhun was. The forest air was thick with their tainted smell, but oddly the rank odor did not set him on edge as it usually did.

Something is different about these creatures.

Clearly, the shade of the deep forest provided ample cover for the dogs, reminding Rhun how numerous such beasts were in the past, when the deep places of the forest remained dark even under the bright sun. Since his own mortal days, so many wild places had fallen before the axe and plow of civilization. And so many creatures, blasphemare and natural alike, had vanished with the trees.

The beech forest gradually gave way to silver pine as they climbed higher up the mountain. Somewhere to his left, a stream tumbled over rocks, smelling of snowmelt and ice. The sound of running water grew louder as they went, roaring up into what could only be a vast waterfall up ahead.

Finally, a glimmer of sunlight sparkled through the shadowy bower, drawing them forward. Rhun sensed the pack splitting off, melting back into the thicker trees, their duty apparently done.

They brought us here for a reason.

Rhun continued toward the light. Ahead, the lion pranced more brightly on his paws, showing no fear at what might lay ahead.

The trees quickly grew thinner, spaced more widely apart. A meadow opened ahead. Grasses waved along the rolling slopes, like an emerald sea. Small white flowers glowed out there, pristine and clean in the sunlight.

After so long in darkness, that brightness stung. Rhun squinted against it, while Elizabeth drew in a sharp breath. She was still more sensitive to the light. As they stepped out of the forest, she pulled the hood of her jacket over her head, shadowing her features.

Rhun looked around. The open space formed a rough oval of green, dotted with white blooms of gentian flowers. A handful of gray boulders poked through the grass like wary sentinels. Meandering through them was a silvery stream, flowing from a tall waterfall on the far side where sheets of water plummeted from a sheer cliff into a wide blue pool.

The team gathered at the forest edge, all eyes searching for threats.

Rhun nodded ahead. “This is the place Bernard marked on the map, where he believed Hugh de Payens built his hermitage.”

“Nothing’s here,” Jordan said. “Place is empty.”

“No,” Elizabeth said. “That’s not true. Bernard was not mistaken about this location… a rarity for him.”

Rhun heard the spike of bitterness in her voice when she mentioned the cardinal.

She pointed to the towering cascade. “Beyond the veil of the waterfall, I can make out the outline of a structure.”

Erin squinted. “Are you sure?”

Even Rhun could not discern anything and cast a doubtful glance at Elizabeth.

“Over there!” she said with an exasperated sigh.

She leaned closer to Rhun, aiming her arm, allowing him to follow her graceful finger. She outlined the watery shadow of an arched doorway in the rock behind the falls, halfway up the cliff face.

Once pointed out, he saw it as well.

Two windows flanked that door, with a larger round window centered above them.

It looked like the façade of a church, sculpted out of the rock behind the waterfall. Its bottom edge hovered two stories above the blue pool. It would be a precarious climb to get up there, especially through the pounding of that water.

Rhun became all too aware of the ache in his stump, reminded of how impossible such an ascent would be for him with only one arm.

Erin took a step farther out into the meadow. “I see it now, too!”

“We should proceed as a group,” Jordan warned, drawing Erin back, wisely reining in the woman’s eagerness. “While this Hugh guy has let us get this far, let’s not take any unnecessary risks.”

Rhun bowed to the wisdom of the man’s words and waved them all onward toward the waterfall. No one spoke as they marched across the field, marking the team’s tension. Rhun was sure eyes were watching their approach across the meadow. As they neared the waterfall, its roar grew deafening, which only heightened Rhun’s apprehension.

Reaching the small lake, they assembled along its edge. The water was a pristine blue, clear enough that Rhun spotted dappled trout deep below the rippling surface, flitting for cover as his shadow fell over the pool.

He searched the base of the rock behind the falls for any carved steps, for some way to reach the façade of the church far above their heads. He spotted no way to gain access without a slippery climb through a heavy cascade of water.

Jordan voiced all their concerns, shouting to be heard above the roar. “How do we get up to that friggin’ place?”

It was Elizabeth’s keen eyes again that discovered the answer, pointing down instead of up, into the pool’s depths. “The mouth of a tunnel is hiding in the rocks below the falls. Perhaps there is an underwater passageway there that leads up to the church above.”

Erin eyed the water with clear trepidation, crossing her arms. Rhun knew from past experience that the archaeologist was not a strong swimmer and had a fear of water.

Erin swallowed. “There’s got to be some other way into this place. I doubt those dogs swim in and out through that tunnel. Especially here, exposed to the sunlight.”

Rhun agreed with her. Hugh de Payens had been here for centuries. The mountain was probably riddled with tunnels and hidden entrances and exits. But his team did not have time to hunt them down.

Jordan sighed. “Hugh guided us to this meadow with his dogs. Something tells me this is another test. We find our way inside through that underwater tunnel, or we don’t go in at all.”

“Then we swim for it,” Erin said, uncrossing her arm and steeling her face.

“As a group,” Jordan said. “All or nothing.”

The big man stripped off down to his pants, even kicking off his boots. Rhun was taken aback at the transformation of his blue tattoo, following the new crimson lines that extended from it, wrapping his neck, entwining down his arm. It was a darkly beautiful design, as if the angels themselves had inscribed his flesh.

And maybe they had.

Rhun and the others followed his example, shucking off jackets, and shedding heavier clothes.

Once done, Elizabeth stood next to him, wearing only her pants and bra, showing no shyness, her back straight. She ran one hand through her dark curls, pushing them back from her face and tying them with a bit of string. Her breasts were firm and white under the thin silk, and her pale skin shone even in the shadow cast by the overhanging rock.

Rhun remembered how it had felt to have that smooth skin pressed against his, his lips against hers. He had wanted to devour her then, possess her wholly.

He still did.

Still, he averted his eyes, turning his attention to their pile of discarded clothes and abandoned weapons. They would go unarmed to this meeting. Perhaps this was why Hugh had led them to this entrance — to force them to strip down.