Blood Codex

Chapter 48

Cameron raced through an open wooden five-bar gate, the tires buzzing over a short section of cobbled road. To their left was a small grassy area with a few cars parked on it. A handful of people jumped and looked around at Cameron’s speedy entrance, many frowns forming. But Rose knew they wouldn’t say anything. That British polite disapproval was as far as they would go. It seemed strange that these people had no idea of the mayhem and carnage just a kilometer or two behind them.

Cameron parked and they jumped from the car and jogged up the path leading to the castle. From this angle, the rocky outcrop with the castle atop looked like a giant ship had plowed into the island, forcing up a bow wave of grass and stone before it. The path immediately forked, the left side staying low and skirting the craggy rise. The other path went shallowly up to the right side of the castle. Crowley and Rose ran side by side up the right hand path, Cameron on their heels.

To their right lay a narrow grassy verge, then a low three-bar wooden fence. Over the fence, rocky beach extended a little way before the water lapped against the stones. The sea looked cold and uninviting, but the darkness of the clouds had lifted a little, the rain easing back to a gusty, intermittent spray. After the confines of cars and planes, Rose exalted in the cold wash of it, the salt scent of the ocean, and the aroma of fresh grass. The wind had a biting edge of cold to it that reminded her she was alive, her heart racing. She had come so close to death, Grigor’s hands around her throat, and now she was running, breathing deeply of the wide open world. She felt exhilarated.

The dirt path turned to cobblestones, a new wooden fence to their right to prevent people slipping down the steepening grass to the rocky beach. The craggy grass in front of the castle gave way to steeper, broken rock on their right, the mossy, gray stone walls of the castle itself looming high above them.

They hurried past a small group of tourists ambling ahead of them, and then the path turned sharply back on itself. Beyond, the land was flat and grassy, and then seemed to drop off a large step to more grass and the ocean beyond.

“Down there are the island’s famous lime kilns,” Rose said, remembering previous trips. “Right on the water’s edge. We’re above them up here.” She barked a short laugh as another recollection came to her. “The lime kilns at Castle Point on Holy Island are among the largest, most complex and best preserved lime kilns in Northumberland,” she quoted. “Honestly, it’s ridiculous the kind of information my museum brain retains!”

“Impressive,” Crowley said. “But I think we need to go the other way.”

To one side were four wooden sheds. One large and regular shaped, the other three designed like half boat hulls flipped upside down. The smoothly cobbled way that doubled back on itself became a series of irregular long steps, climbing steeply up against the castle wall. The largest, normal-shaped shed was the reception and ticket office. Cameron ran ahead of Crowley and Rose, pulled money from his pocket.

He returned with three tickets and they hurried up. The castle had but a single external entrance, a door in the south side of the building. As they reached the door, something flashed through Rose’s mind, momentarily blinding her. She heard screams and howls, saw flames flickering against a night sky, then the sound of rapid footsteps on stone. Voices shouted. Her vision swam into a dark corridor, vaguely lit with the flickering orange light of flaming torches. Nausea rose and her knees buckled.

She felt hands grab under her arms, haul her back upright.

“Rose!” Crowley’s voice was sharp, concerned.

“Landvik and his idiots have just pulled up next to our car,” Cameron said.

Rose’s vision swam back. She saw Cameron looking out over the small area with cars down below, Crowley’s face much closer to her, his expression one of stress and worry.

“I’m all right,” she said. “Sorry. Something happened. I saw… something.”

“You can carry on?” Crowley asked, the unspoken problem clear in his tone if she said she couldn’t.

“Yes, I can. Let’s go.”

A large wooden door, with vertical bands of black iron, stood open before them. Stone steps under an arched ceiling led up a few meters to the lower battery of the castle. They ran up onto a wide open, flag-stoned area, crenellated walls with old gun emplacements making a curve of one end. Behind them another door led to the entrance hall.

“Come on!” Crowley ran for it, Rose and Cameron on his heels.

“Won’t we be trapped in here?” Rose asked, though she knew, somehow, that they needed to be here.

“We might be,” Crowley admitted. “But what choice do we have?”

“Did Landvik and his goons see us?”

They pushed past another small group of tourists, muttering apologies as they went.

“Who knows? Regardless, they won’t have much trouble figuring out where we’ve gone. The question is, what can we do while we’re here? And how can we make a stand against them?”