The Black Sun Conspiracy

Chapter Seventeen

“There! That’s it there.” Sam pointed across the road. “Look, it’s the same layout as in the carvings on the box.”

Sure enough, the Citadel Park wrapped itself around the two galleries, the Museum voor Schone Kunsten and the Stedelijk Museum voor Actuele Kunst, and a small pond with a little cave stood behind the former. Three small arches, two stone pillars. It was impossible to tell whether it was man-made, designed to complement the galleries or a naturally occurring outcropping. Even in the cold weather it would usually have been surrounded by tourists looking for a photo opportunity, but now that the blue skies had given way to grey and the rain had begun to pour, it was deserted.

“I think we might just have to accept that we are going to look conspicuous this time,” said Purdue as they picked their way across the wet grass and along the edge of the pond. “We must just hope that the rain will keep people out of the park for long enough for us to find the key.”

Nina turned the reliquary over in her hand. “The arrow definitely ends here,” she said. “There’s nothing beyond this. But there’s also nothing to indicate where in the cave we should look.”

The walls of the cave were coarse and natural-looking. Any hope that they might easily spot an unusually large or prominent rock was quickly dashed. Together they scoured the walls for any sign of the key, or any sign of Addison Fabian’s manipulation.

“There’s nothing here,” Nina sighed, after an hour of intensive searching. “Or if there is, we’re not going to be able to find it by means of the naked eye. Is there anything else we can try? It’s starting to clear up, and I can’t imagine this place is going to stay quiet for long once the rain stops.”

Purdue leaned against the wall and stared at the roof of the cave. “We may need to abandon the search and return after dark. What do you think, Sam?”

“No idea,” Sam said wearily. “Let’s have another look at that box.”

He took the reliquary from Nina and examined it once again, retracing their steps from St Bavo’s through the center of Ghent, from Sint-Pietersplein to the twin galleries. The line certainly led straight from the galleries to the cave…

“Is this significant, do you think?” He held up the box to the light and pointed to a tiny detail. The line that they had followed gave way to a much smaller, much thinner line, barely perceptible against the grain of the dark wood. “I can’t tell whether that’s another, smaller line or just a coincidental scratch, but… does that bit there look like an arrow to you?”

Purdue adjusted his glasses and peered at the reliquary. “It could be… I have an idea.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out the tablet, unfolding it from the size of a matchbox and stretching it out to cover his palm. His fingers flew across its surface for a few seconds; then he held the tablet over the box, took a picture and zoomed in as close as he could.

The thin line, now that it was blown up to an easily-visible size, grew even thinner, and at such close quarters they could see that the wood grain on the box was not wood grain at all. It was a remarkably accurate depiction of the rocks that surrounded them, carefully rendered in burnt wood. “Remarkably detailed work,” muttered Purdue, scrutinizing it closely. “Now let me see…” He held up the tablet, tapping something on its edges to render its flexible frame transparent, and moved the device over the wall until he found the place where it seemed to blend into the background, the light and shade and depth of the rocks falling into perfect synchronicity. “We have it!” he cried, then handed the tablet to Nina and dug into his pocket again.

This time he produced a small, narrow screwdriver, barely thicker than a hypodermic needle, and slipped its blade into a tiny crevice in the rock. That was all it took to wriggle one of the stones out of place, revealing at last the key hidden behind it.

It was a surprisingly chunky key, considering the size of the reliquary. Small but compact and heavy, made of wrought iron with an ornately twisted bow. Sam had imagined something slighter, more elegant and filigree, but he realized that this was probably just the romantic in him. ‘If you’re going to leave a key sitting in a cave for who knows how long, I suppose it’s got to be sturdy,’ he thought. ‘No sense in making something that looks like it belongs in a fantasy novel if it can’t survive the elements.’

Purdue took the key and slotted it into the lock. The lid of the reliquary sprang open, revealing a small scroll inside. He unrolled it carefully. “Well,” he said, passing it to Nina when he had finished reading it, “I think we had best go and collect our belongings. It looks like we have another move ahead of us.”