The young priest shook his head and would not say any more, promising to explain when they reached the monastery and leaving Schuyler to puzzle over his words.
Jack had split the company into two groups. One half would head farther up the mountains while the other half made for the port. Ghedi accompanied the second group; he was familiar with the workings of shipyards and would be able to sniff out those who traded in illegal human cargo. Schuyler and
Jack would take their own path and keep in contact with the rest with a walkie-talkie loaned from Luca.
When the team disbanded, Schuyler told Jack what Ghedi had said. Jack agreed there was no way they were going to abandon the girl, no matter what Ghedi was worried about. As a sworn Venator, Jack was charged with not only serving the Coven but protecting the innocent--whether vampire or human. He suggested they waste no time on a footrace. The fastest way to find the girl was to locate her spirit in the glom.
"It is better if you do it--she might not hide from you," he said, explaining that a gentle female presence would be more successful at coaxing a young girl from her hiding place.
Schuyler closed her eyes and reached out into the darkness. She concentrated on the image from the photograph.
MariElena, where are you?
When Schuyler opened her eyes, she was standing in the twilight world of the glom. She could sense Jack's presence as well as the spirits of the company searching for the girl. The glom world was silvery and dim, veiled as if by a dense gray fog.
MariElena, I am a friend. Show yourself. You are safe with me. Tell me where you are. Your family is looking for you.
There was no answer.
Schuyler waited, but it was as if she were calling down into a bottomless well. She could sense her consciousness expanding beyond the universe, but there was nothing to push back against it--the sign that she had located the right spirit. She opened her eyes.
"Nothing?" Jack asked.
"Not a thing." Schuyler frowned. "It's like she's not here . . . not even in the glom. Not like she's hiding. More like . . . she never existed." She swallowed her frustration. Ghedi's warning had unsettled her. What was the gatekeeper so afraid of?
More than anything, Schuyler wanted to bring MariElena safely home. She felt a kinship with the young girl. Wasn't she herself just fifteen when her life changed? She understood how MariElena might fall in love with a stranger, how one might be tempted by curiosity and adventure, how terrible to have that curiosity of the world shattered so horribly.
I am here! Help me! Help me!
"Oh God," Schuyler said. "I just heard her."
Help me. Help. Kill. Help. Die. Help. Fire. Help. Hell. Help. The girl's thoughts were an incoherent, frightened plea, a monologue of confused desperation.
Schuyler reached out to Jack, who steadied her. You are safe, you are safe, you are safe now. Show me where you are. We will find you and bring you to safety, she sent, projecting a soothing calmness to the shattered soul.
Help me. Help me. Help me. Kill. Die. Help. Fire. Help. Hell. Help.
Schuyler jerked awake. She opened her eyes.
"You found her?" Jack asked. He was still holding her tightly.
"Yes. I know where she is." Schuyler picked up the walkie-talkie and described what she saw to the rest of the searchers. A dark cavern by a dry riverbed, a gaping hole in the ground, overhung with moss.
There was a startled cry from Ghedi on the receiving end.
"What's wrong?" she asked. "Where is she?"
"The cavern by the dry river. It's called Hellsmouth," he said, his voice rising in panic. "A few miles outside of Florence. I'll meet you there."
Schuyler understood Ghedi's reaction immediately. Maybe this was why the priest had been so pessimistic about MariElena's chances.
"They've taken her to the gate," she told Jack. "Come on, we don't have much time."
ELEVEN
Hellsmouth
Ghedi gave them precise directions, and Jack and Schuyler set off immediately, their Velox speed taking them to their destination in a flash of butterfly wings.
If they were taking her to the gate, then they weren't smugglers, Schuyler thought. And if they weren't smugglers, then what were they? What did they want with the girl? Was this what the priest was worried about? What Ghedi had not wanted to tell them until they were "safe"?
They found the dried riverbed, a scarlet, sandy ribbon of patched, scorched earth that led to a dark underground cavern. Just as Schuyler had described, the cavern was covered in moss and half sunken into the earth.
Jack kicked away at the shrubbery blocking the entrance and led the way down. He picked up a stick and lit it with the blue flame.
"Show yourselves!" he called, his voice echoing against the stone walls.
The cave was dark and smelled of mold. Was this the entrance to the Gate of Promise? Schuyler could feel a foul, putrid menace in the air as they inched their way down, taking careful steps into the murky blackness.
"Hellsmouth. Interesting name, isn't it? The Red Bloods seem to have a knack for naming things without knowing their true significance. But obviously they sensed something here," she said.
"No one is immune to the feeling of power," he replied, his torch sending long rays of light down a seemingly endless tunnel.
Schuyler slipped a little on the wet moss, grabbing on to Jack's arm for balance. She looked around the dark enclosure. Down there, she was surprised to find that the heavy feeling of doom had abated somewhat, replaced by a lonesome melancholy. She walked forward in the darkness, and the feeling grew stronger.
They stopped and looked around the shadowy space, Jack's torch illuminating a rather standard-looking cavern, with moss green rocks and a sandy floor. The cave was littered with the usual teenage detritus: crushed cigarette butts and empty beer bottles.
Something isn't right, Jack sent.
You feel it too? Schuyler asked. What is it?
Then she knew. It's not here, is it? This isn't the Gate of Promise.
No, this is a mere vapor, a distraction. A cunning illusion.
Hellsmouth was nothing but a haunted house, something to scare away the local populace, a distraction from the real menace.
"What do we know about Blue Bloods?" Jack mused.
"That they don't like to make anything easy?" Schuyler said. "That they keep their secrets. They brought peace and art and light to the world. They are a highly civilized people. They built temples and monuments, cities of gold that rise to the heavens," she said, thinking of Paris and how beautiful it was.
"Exactly. Think of the gates we've already found--the Gate of Vengeance under a statue--a sculpture, an icon. The second underneath one of the most beautiful Gothic cathedrals in North America. A vampire would not build a gate in a hole in the ground, a crude cavern in the sand." Jack shook his head.
"No. You're absolutely right. Whoever put this here did so to conceal the gate's true location." Schuyler said. "But if this isn't the gate--then why are the
Petruvians guarding it?"