Sanctus

Chapter 125

Cornelius headed up through the rising mountains keeping a steady few points below the speed limit, wary of his broken wind-screen and the two corpses stashed in the boot. The tail end of the rush-hour traffic still leaked out of the city. Very little was heading in his direction. He made it all the way up the Southern Boulevard and on to the inner ring road before Arkadian managed to report the car he was driving as stolen. He was already easing down the slip road and headed into the Umbrasian Quarter by the time the dispatcher called it out on the radio and instigated a search. Following the daily exodus of coaches and cars after the old town closed its portcullises for the night the Quarter was practically deserted. Cornelius turned into the alley, and brought the car to a stop by the steel door. He tapped a message into his phone explaining where he was, and who was in the car with him.

Then he waited.

After a long minute a deep thunk sounded inside the steel door and it started to rise, gradually revealing the dark tunnel beyond. The headlights swept across smooth concrete then rough stone walls as he eased the car forward, following the curve of the tunnel away to the right. Behind him the steel door sank back towards the ground. Cornelius listened to the soothing rumble of the tyres on the uneven floor. It occurred to him that this was possibly the last time he’d ever drive a car or set foot outside the Citadel. He found these thoughts soothing. He had no love for the modern world, or the people who inhabited it. He’d seen enough hell on earth during his time in the army. Salvation lay ahead, away from the world, high in the mountain — closer to God.

The car bounced on its springs at the bottom of the dip then rose up towards the chamber at the end of the tunnel. As the headlights swept down at the top of the rise they lit up two figures standing like phantoms in the centre of the vault. Cornelius pulled the wheel to the right, steering away from the apparitions, before coming to a halt in a cloud of dust and exhaust fumes. He killed the engine but left the headlights burning, the bounced light from the beams illuminating the two figures drifting towards him through the gritty fog. Both wore the green cassocks of the Sancti. Cornelius opened his door, stepped out, and found himself crushed in an embrace.

‘Welcome back,’ the Abbot said, holding him out again at arm’s length and inspecting him like a father greeting a long-lost son. ‘Are you hurt?’ Cornelius shook his head. ‘Then you must change quickly and come with us.’

The Abbot snaked his arm round Cornelius’s shoulder and lead him towards the doorway in the back wall. He stepped through into the small ante-chamber and noticed something on the floor. The Abbot smiled and gestured towards it. Cornelius felt tears prick his eyes as he bent down to pick up the wooden Crux lying on top of the dark green robes of a fully ordained Sanctus.