Blood Codex

Chapter 51

Crowley led the way into the castle’s “Ship Room” at the far end of the corridor. They were fast running out of places to search or hide. A large model of a Dutch ship hung from the ceiling above, presumably giving the room its name. The room itself was not unlike the hull of a ship turned upside down, the walls rising and curving in to meet high above in a slight point rather than a smooth arch. Deeply recessed windows let in wan light to either side, the floor a herringbone of red bricks, like most places throughout the castle.

Crowley looked about the room, thankfully empty of tourists. People seemed to be heading off, perhaps about to join a tour outside or something. It worked for them, allowing more freedom of movement, but they had little left to explore. And he was increasingly concerned about Rose’s state of mind. She was plagued by these flashes of memory. They had a physical impact on her, made her dizzy and uncertain on her feet. Whatever that bawbag Landvik had done to her, it seemed to have long-lasting effects.

“This room used to be the fort’s ammunition store,” Cameron said, reading from a small plaque by the door.

“What if we can’t get below from anywhere?” Rose said, her voice shaky. “What if this castle construction has blocked off anything that was here previously?”

Crowley frowned, shook his head. “It’s possible, but I don’t buy it. This place was built for defense, so wouldn’t you want an avenue of escape when under siege? Otherwise, your enemies could starve you out.”

“He’s right,” Cameron said. “Remember the only external access is the door we came through at the top of the path? No way is that the only way in and out. There must be others.”

Voices sounded from a short distance away and the three of them froze. They were male voices, the words unclear but the lilt of a Scandinavian language unmistakable.

“We’ll be trapped in here!” Rose whispered, eyes wide.

Cameron looked left and right. Some large brass plates were mounted on one wall, heavy-looking. He pointed. “We could hide on either side of the door and jump them. Brain them with those. But it’s three men with guns versus two with knives and brass dinnerware. Not great odds.”

Crowley couldn’t help but agree. This was a bad place to be cornered, not much room to move around, only a table and chairs, a few armchairs, nothing to afford real cover from flying bullets. He looked to the fireplace, thinking to arm himself with a stout iron poker or other implement. He frowned, looked closer.

One stone in the back of the hearth looked out of place, darker and coarser than the others. It made him think of volcanic stone. Heart racing, hoping for a break, just one small piece of luck, he gave the stone a shove with his fist. It shifted a little, but not much.

“They’re coming closer!” Rose’s whisper had an edge of panic to it.

Refusing to be beaten, certain there was something up with this brick, and losing all other patience besides, Crowley slammed his booted heel into the dark square of stone with all his might.

A muted clack echoed behind the hearth and the stone gave way. The sound reminded Crowley of a tumbler in a lock sliding into place. With a scrape of stone, the back of the fireplace slowly slid sideways, revealing a low, dark tunnel. He turned a grin back to the others and saw them both staring with mouths hanging open.

“Come on then!” he said. “No time to stand around gawping!”

The three fell to their hands and knees and crawled inside. Crowley, bringing up the rear, heard the voices as though they were almost on top of them. Shadows moved in the corridor outside the door to the ship room, voices urgent and talking over one another in frustration. Crowley spotted a small metal lever to one side of the gap. Hoping desperately it would work, he pulled it. The false back of the fireplace slid closed, plunging them into utter darkness.

“That,” Crowley said with relief, “ought to buy us some time. Now, let’s see what’s down here. And quickly, in case they figure out what I did.”