She stopped suddenly as if a wall had suddenly appeared in her path. In a way, that was exactly what had happened, although the wall was not a tangible thing of limestone or concrete. Rather, it was a sensation, like a kind of magnetic repulsion pushing her back. She felt an overwhelming premonition, not of danger exactly, though that was certainly part of it, but of having missed something profoundly important.
She turned back, and it was as if the magnetic poles reversed. She staggered toward the balcony rail, throwing her arms around it for fear of being pulled over. The attraction was all in her head and she knew it, but that did not make the sensation any less real.
I need to go down there, she thought. The answers are down there.
Some part of her offered a weak protest. Professor needed her. Urgently. Whatever this was, it could wait.
But she knew it could not wait. A window of opportunity had opened. The Vault was offering her its secrets. If she turned away now, the window might close forever.
She had to know.
Jade shrugged the rope coil off her shoulder, wrapped the loose end around the rail, securing it with a bowline knot, and heaved the rest over the side. With a couple of quick adjustments, she reconfigured the carabiner on her climbing harness into a rudimentary rappelling brake and then eased herself over the railing.
She reached the end of the rope and hung there in darkness, just a few feet above the floor. Her flashlight revealed a chamber that was remarkably like the Oracle Room in the Hypogeum, but with one significant difference. Scattered across the floor of the pit were dozens of smooth shapes that, from above, had looked like scattered stones. Now she saw that they were elongated skulls.
She dangled above the grisly tableau, turning slowly, playing her light in every direction, looking to see what other mysteries the pit concealed.
“Okay, you got me here. What am I supposed to—”
Before she could complete the question, the vortex opened and she was swept away again.
TWENTY-EIGHT
Professor had no idea why he was still alive, but he sensed his execution had merely been postponed.
Kellogg and the other Changeling — the man who still wore his face — walked a few steps behind him, their guns still trained on him, though not quite as aggressively as before. They kept a safe stand-off distance, close enough to maintain control but far enough away that Professor would never be able to get the jump on them. Further evidence of professional training. Shah and the woman walked ahead of them, continuing along the rotunda. Her hand was on his arm. It might have been a merely practical arrangement, a blind person and her guide, but Professor doubted the woman needed any assistance finding her way and there was something possessive in her manner. Shah seemed to be tolerating her touch, but only just.
“What is this place?” Shah asked. “Who made it?”
“Better that you see the answer for yourself,” the woman replied. “Know this, however. It is old beyond imagining. A gift of knowledge sent from the heavens.”
“Knowledge?”
“A revelation.” The woman made an expansive gesture. “The prophets of old came to this place in secret to receive the Word. Now the gift of the revelation is given to you.”
“The Prophet came here?” Shah shook his head. “No. The writings are clear on this. Muhammad was visited by the angel in a cave near Medina.”
“Do you believe he could not have traveled, in secret, across the sea to this place? The cave where your Prophet prayed was a resonator, an echo of this place, just like the Hypogeum. He saw the way to the vault, just as Jade Ihara did. The revelation is not for everyone. It wasn’t for her, but it was for him, just as it was for the prophets of old who came before. Jesus. Moses, Abraham. Adam. And now, it is for you.”
Shah was incredulous. “They all came here?”
“All. A vision is given and a prophet goes forth. But with the passage of centuries, confusion sets in, the people lose their way, and it is necessary for another prophet to be called.”
“And I’m supposed to be the new prophet?” Professor thought Shah sounded skeptical rather than awed. “The chosen one.”
“You were meant for great things, Atash.”
“Chosen by you,” Shah said, insistently.
The woman stopped and turned her face toward Shah. “Who do you think we are, Atash? We have been safeguarding this secret, and watching over all of humankind, for ten thousand years. In the holy writings, we are called angels. Messengers of God.”
“Angels with rubber faces,” Professor muttered. “And contact lenses.”
The woman’s face turned toward him, but she ignored the remark. “Yes, we chose you. That is why I came to you, worked with you to lay the foundation. Roche’s interference forced us to accelerate the timetable, but this was always your destiny.”
“Don’t believe it,” Professor said. “It’s a con. That’s all they are. Con artists, selling whatever lie they think will get you to do what they want.”
He had braced himself against an expected blow from behind, but none came. Instead, the blind woman continued to regard Shah with an intensity that might have been mistaken for worship. “When you have seen, you will be able to decide for yourself whether I am lying or not.”
She pointed in the direction they had been traveling. “Up there, you will find a door. Go through. What you see is between you and God.”
Shah hesitated. “You’re saying the revelations of the Prophet, and all the prophets who came before…came from there?”
An impatient frown cracked Gabrielle’s façade. “What difference does it make? Would you prefer a burning bush? An angel floating above you? You will see what you need to see. Trust me.”
“Spoken like a true con artist,” Professor said.
“Go, Atash. See for yourself.”
Shah stared at her a moment longer, as if there was more he felt he needed to say, but then he turned away and headed off on his own. Professor waited until he disappeared around the curve of the rotunda before addressing his captors.
“Now that he’s gone, would you care to tell me what’s really going on?” He turned around to see if either of the men would give answer, but they were as stonily silent as the blind woman. “No? Then maybe we can talk about why I’m still alive.”
“It’s up to him to decide your fate,” the woman said, not looking at him.
“Him? You mean Shah?” This was unexpected. He had made no secret of his antipathy toward the Iranian journalist, but they had reached an accord and Professor did not think the man would countenance further bloodshed, especially at the urging of the Changelings. Maybe they believed that sparing Professor’s life would give them leverage over Shah, or perhaps they intended to continue using him as a hostage to assure Shah’s further cooperation, but if either was the case, they had misjudged the nature of his relationship with Shah.
“When he has received the vision, he will face a choice. Spare your life and risk you telling the world about the vault, or kill you in order to preserve the secret.”
“Ah, I see. So really, you just want him to be the one to do the dirty deed. Just like when you sicced him on Jade.”
Her smile confirmed his accusation. “You’ve misjudged him,” Professor said. “He hates you. Hates how you used and manipulated him.”
“He will be a different man once he has received the vision,” Gabrielle said, her tone a mockery of reverence. “He will understand that everything we have done was necessary.”