Forbidden Power

Chapter 8-Lost Treasures

Cesar and I fell, and I was actually starting to wonder if there was a bottom to this thing. The young man Cesar was still holding only briefly looked afraid before he looked resigned to his fate, but there was no way I was going to let another wizard die before his time on my watch. I made sure to hold him up above me to receive the least impact possible in such a tight space. As long as there weren't poisoned needles, spear heads, or anything else waiting to impale me below, Cesar and I would survive it. A wizard? Not a chance.

Despite not wanting to do it, Adiel's face came to mind as he lay dying the second time, and Cesar pulled the young wizard against his own body to cushion the fall. The wizard did not struggle, but he did make some funny muffled sounds against Cesar's chest. If this was a different situation, I might find it super awkward and funny. Maybe I will in hindsight.

Finally Cesar's back smacked against rock, blessedly, and apart from a muffled oof from our wizard captive, there was no further sound. Luckily Cesar is basically made of rock, so he hopped up immediately, set the wizard down on his feet, and surveyed his surroundings.

"Uh, big vampire creature thing? Can you light your fireball again? I can't see anything," the wizard asked nervously.

"No," Cesar answered coldly. Light could be seen even from a distance, and we don't want to become an easy target here. Plus, anything this guy asks could be a trick.

"And my name is Cesar," my beast volunteered of his own free will. He rarely gives out his name. It must be because Adiel's death is so raw. Even our royal beasts all knew and loved him. I doubt he would have given his name if this guy wasn't a wizard.

"Oh. I'm Marco," the guy whispered nervously. Now I could see fear. Obviously falling down here wasn't part of the plan.

"Marco, where is Pietro?" Cesar growled pointedly.

"Probably in the forbidden chamber. Only he is allowed there, but I've never learned of its exact location. These hallways behind the walls are a maze. Only Father Pietro knows every turn of them," Marco answered.

Cesar only let out a rumble in response. This area felt off. It's too...damp. Somehow it's exposed to the outside, even though it is made of...cement? Cesar put out a hand and touched the wall. Yes. Cement. And yet it felt dank here.

There's damp air coming in from somewhere. Do you feel it, Cesar?

Yeah. But I don't see any abnormalities in the walls.

Check the floor.

Cesar stomped his feet against the floor, which was surprisingly giving for a solid floor.

Remember the area for a foot for the door in the church? I asked excitedly. These stones looked similar. Cesar looked down, turning in a full circle twice before spotting a small anomaly.

It was too small for Cesar's big body to even squat, maybe being 5 feet or so in diameter.

"Marco, I'm going to give us some light, and I want you to put your fingers where I tell you to," Cesar instructed.

"What?!" Marco asked, backing away from Cesar's body and pressing flat against the wall in the small space.

I guess that did sound weird.

"There's a trap door in the floor. I'm too big to activate it. I need you to activate it," Cesar explained.

This guy has a wild imagination, Cesar complained in disgust.

Must be the celibacy, I joked.

Cesar snorted out loud and lit a dull fire.

He gave Marco a pointed bored look and tapped the two indentions in the stones on the floor with his clawed toe.

Marco looked at the floor and then looked at Cesar, squinting suspiciously.

"Put your fingers there, or I'll cut them off," Cesar snarled impatiently.

Marco squeaked in fear, far different from the apathetic guy who let me into the church all of twenty minutes ago, and did what he was told. Sure enough, the floor dropped what felt like an inch, and a gap opened between the cement and the stones.

Marco looked at it in surprise, but Cesar was over being stuck down here.

"Pull it back and open it!" He snapped. Marco jumped and fit his hands into the opening, rolling back half the floor and revealing a chamber below.

"I'm...I'm not going down there," Marco said, signing his chest frantically.

I glanced down and saw the monument he had seen first. Ah. A crypt. Interesting. Cesar contorted his body, picking up Marco and throwing him over his shoulder before using one hand and one leg to brace himself against the cement tube we had fallen down. With his right foot, he pushed the rest of the floor back and nimbly dropped into the space below.

Marco starting muttering prayers under his breath in fear, and Cesar dropped him down roughly in irritation.

"Do you know where we are?" Cesar demanded. There were no fresh scents here. Only stagnant air.

"This is... this is the place of death. We call it Sheol, like in the Davidic Psalms," Marco squeaked again before returning to gripping his wooden crucifix necklace and muttering prayers.

"Okay. Yes. I can tell. I meant the geographical location. Where are we in relation to the church? You've obviously been here before," Cesar said, walking around and looking at the monuments with interest. The caskets in the walls dated back to the twelfth century, from what we could see so far.

"This is the burial place of the craftsmen of the church. It is a sacred place! We should not be here! Nobody is allowed here!"

Cesar. He can't see me anyway. I prompted, and Cesar gladly agreed to let me take back over. His body slowly shrank down into mine, and I grabbed the clothes I was wearing earlier from the pack on my back and just put my pants back on. At least if I have to shift back quickly I'll only lose a pair of pants in the process.

"Well, it seems that your dear Father Pietro thought it would be hilarious to drop us here, so it can't be too sacred," I snorted.

"Is the beast gone now?" Marco asked softly.

"Look, he's with me. I can assure you he meant things literally before. He is not interested in you," I retorted coldly.

"What? No. Well, maybe. But I just wanted to say thanks. He saved my life. The life of his enemy. He could have let me die in that fall," Marco said.

"Okay, well get us out of here, and we'll consider the life saving today even," I murmured, running my hand over the old carvings of the death dates. Why were many of them the same year?

"O-of course, but the problem is this place can only be opened by key and is only opened on a specific anniversary for us to come in and pray for the souls of the dead who might still be in purgatory, so..."

"So you're useless," I sighed. What a pain. I might just have to punch my way out of here. But, why was there a trap that emptied above this place? And why was there even an escape from the trap in the first place only to end up in here, trapped again?

I looked closely at the dates on the caskets. 1130, 1130, 1130, 1145, 1130, 1130... hm. There are varying dates of deaths everywhere except this one horizontal row, and the casket with a different date has the year 1145.

"I feel like there is something significant about this date. 1145. What happened that year?" I asked Marco. I should know this, but I didn't memorize much if it didn't have anything to do with my interest in Egypt.

"Well, a pope died..." Marco started.

"In Rome? That shouldn't be significant here," I crossed my arms and shook my head. There was a word coming to my mind.

"Quantum...physics... no, that's not it..." I grumbled.

"Oh, you must mean Quantum Praedecessores. That was when the Pope at the time called for the Second Crusade," Marco told me. Poor guy hadn't budged since we came down here. I forget he can't see. If this is a crypt, then some light should be okay to help him. I lit a bit in my hand and watched him visibly relax as he glanced around his surroundings.

"That's right!" I said excitedly. The Second Crusade! So this was pointing to the Crusaders. Or maybe...

"What happened in 1130 that would be significant to you?" I asked, observing the other caskets with interest. Were they even occupied? Dare I check?

"That was the year a Jewish anti-pope was elected. There were two reigning popes during that time, which was unheard of," Marco said.

"An anti-pope? That sounds interesting. What was his name?" I asked curiously.

"Um, it was Anacletus II," Marco answered uncertainly.

I reached into my bag, temporarily extinguishing the light, and dug for my cell phone. I yanked it out and looked up the anti-pope. I had some suspicions. I lit up my phone. It had poor service down here, but, miraculously, there was still service. I typed in anti-pope Anacletus II and gasped as the information was pulled up.

"Did you know that Anacletus II was not his real name?" I asked, switching my internet off, turning on the phone's flashlight, and studying the caskets again.

"No. What was his real name?" Marco asked, moving closer to me nervously.

"Pietro..." I answered with a smirk. I think I've just made a very interesting connection. "The internet says he's from a Jewish family who converted to Christianity. A very powerful family who converted to Christianity. He was ambitious and jumped into the position of anti-pope despite not having much support. Interesting, don't you think?" I turned to a shocked Marco.

"You don't think...Father Pietro...?"

"Is the same person? Yeah. I do think that. And I bet these caskets don't have bodies in them," I told him. I didn't smell dead bodies, even though these would have been long decayed in such thin wooden caskets.

"You said you all come here one day a year to pray over the souls here? By any chance, is that date January 25?" I asked, following my hunch.

"Yeah. It is. How did you know?" Marco asked in amazement.

"Because that's the day Pietro supposedly died. I'd venture to guess that he didn't die but instead fled to Spain..." I grabbed the casket marked 1145 and pulled it out. Marco jumped back in horror.

"What are you doing?!" He demanded.

"Getting some truth to this madness. And then getting my puzzle ball back," I said calmly, easily prying open the lid and whistling at the contents.

Marco had looked away for a moment, but he crept over to look at what the light was showing in the 'casket'. His eyes nearly popped out of his head at what he saw there.

"Are those? They couldn't be!" He gasped.

"Oh, they are. These are relics from the first crusade. Pietro was from a powerful Jewish family in Rome. Looks like they decided to either buy or steal these relics from the Crusaders and put them in safekeeping. I guarantee you all of these are full of these types of things," I ran my hand over the golden armor laying in the casket covered by very old looking tallits. It was unmistakeable. The lion crest on it. And, most telling, the seal on the hilt of the sword.

"So they found the wealth of Solomon after all..." Marco breathed in awe of what he was looking at.

"Yes, we did," came a cold voice. We whirled around to see Pietro himself standing in the room. How he got there, I don't know. I didn't hear anything, but a vampire as old as him must have some tricks up his sleeve.

"Antipope Anacletus II?" I asked, smirking as I stood up to face him. Old though he was, I am stronger.

"You got all of that just by falling down my trap. Aren't you clever?" Pietro smiled, but his smile wasn't warm in the least. Marco cowered behind me.

"You left some compelling clues. You know, all I wanted was to go into the archives here and try and find a way to solve my puzzle ball. I wasn't looking for the armory of King David," I said, gesturing to the armor in the casket.

"And yet that is what you found...and now I can't let you continue to live," Pietro whispered, sounding only mildly grieved. Marco hiccuped behind me in fear and fell to his knees, scooting out from around me with his face to the floor.

"Please, your excellency! I will never breathe a word of this! I have known for a long time that you are a vampire and have never revealed it to anyone! Please, spare my life!" He begged pitifully.

Pietro just looked at him pitiably and sighed and shrugged. "You have found my greatest secret, I'm afraid, dear boy. You have indeed been a loyal servant, but it can't be helped."

"I won't let you kill him. He's an innocent," I snarled, stepping in front of Marco and moving closer to my enemy, against my better judgment.

"It's a shame I must destroy you both. I like Brandon Fairchilde. His father was a dear friend of mine and a loyal supporter of my cause when I was the Pope..."

"anti-Pope," I interrupted angrily. Pietro's eyebrows furrowed together in fury, and he hurled my puzzle ball at me./

"I should have never let a royal beast into my domain. And now I must kill you. Don't be haughty, boy. You might have a royal beast, but I, I, have lived long and learned much. LUNGA VITA PAPA ANACLETUS II!" He screamed before rushing at me.