Chapter Six House Beneath the Bells #2
"Because Beatrice believes the House should survive."
Elias continued walking.
Naomi remained still.
"And you?"
He paused.
"I believe the House is necessary."
"That isn't the same answer."
"No."
He looked toward her.
"Beatrice believes in preservation. I believe in control."
At least he admitted it.
Naomi followed.
"Joseph believed in what?"
Elias's expression softened.
"Choice."
That word hung between them.
Naomi understood suddenly why the brothers had broken.
Choice against control.
People against institutions.
Freedom against certainty.
They reached a round chamber.
A long table occupied the center.
Nine chairs surrounded it.
The Ninth Circle.
Each chair bore one of the symbols Naomi saw on the road.
Thread.
Crown.
Architecture.
Shield.
Rose.
Compass.
Book.
Flame.
Black circle.
Naomi stared.
"You built the trial around us."
"No."
Elias sat at the black-circle chair.
"The trial was adapted."
"By whom?"
"Those who remain."
Naomi looked toward the nine windows high above.
"The witnesses."
"Yes."
"Who are they?"
"You will know if you survive the third bell."
Lucas stepped forward.
"Enough."
Everyone looked at him.
His voice remained calm.
But Naomi knew that tone.
Dangerously calm.
"You've spent twenty minutes speaking as though Naomi volunteered for this."
Elias regarded him.
"She crossed the sea."
"To protect the people in your registry."
"Intent does not change the consequence."
"No. But consent changes legitimacy."
Elias smiled faintly.
"A very modern argument."
Lucas's eyes hardened.
"A very human one."
Naomi looked at him.
Love struck at inconvenient times.
Apparently, this was one of them.
Elias leaned back.
"Joseph liked you."
Lucas froze.
Naomi stared.
"What?"
Elias looked toward her.
"Your father knew about Lucas before you did."
Silence.
Naomi felt a chill.
"Explain."
"He reviewed the Taylor succession extensively."
"Lucas was a teenager when Dad died."
"Seventeen."
Lucas frowned.
"Joseph knew who I was?"
"Yes."
"Why?"
"Because Joseph was looking for one Taylor who could break Arthur's cycle."
Naomi shook her head.
"No."
Elias continued.
"Joseph believed Hudson had been too damaged by Edmund and Arthur. He believed Gabriel had chosen vengeance. He believed Lucas might be different."
Lucas looked unsettled.
"He never met me."
"He watched."
Naomi almost laughed bitterly.
"Apparently that's our family tradition."
Amara lowered her eyes.
Elias ignored the remark.
"Joseph wrote about you."
Lucas's face changed.
"Where?"
"In the lower archive."
Naomi stepped closer.
"The letters."
Elias looked toward her.
"Among other things."
"Take me there."
"No."
Naomi's eyes narrowed.
"That wasn't a request."
"The archive opens after the second bell."
"Why?"
"Because by then you must make your first choice."
Naomi stared.
"You really enjoy this."
"No."
For the first time, exhaustion appeared on Elias's face.
"I hate this."
The honesty surprised her.
"Then stop it."
"I cannot."
"You're the Keeper."
"No."
Elias looked toward the empty chair marked with a bluebird symbol at the far end.
"I am only the last claimant."
Naomi frowned.
"Then who has authority?"
A voice came from the doorway.
"I do."
Everyone turned.
Beatrice Vale entered.
The silver-haired woman from Westminster Abbey.
The woman from the old photograph with Arthur and Joseph.
She wore a dark blue dress and carried no weapon.
Her face held none of Elias's arrogance.
Only sadness.
Naomi recognized her immediately.
"You."
Beatrice smiled.
"At last."
Ross stepped forward.
"Identify yourself."
"Beatrice Vale."
"I know the name."
"Then you know enough."
Ross's expression suggested otherwise.
Beatrice looked toward Naomi.
"Your father loved you beyond reason."
Naomi's anger sharpened.
"You people need to stop using him as an introduction."
Beatrice accepted that.
"Fair."
"Why were you watching me?"
"Because Mercer was."
Naomi's jaw tightened.
"And you couldn't simply call?"
"Daniel intercepted every direct communication attempt I made."
Amara looked toward Beatrice.
"Where is Mercer?"
"Below."
"Doing what?"
Beatrice's expression hardened.
"Trying to open Joseph's archive."
Naomi moved.
"Then we're going now."
Beatrice stepped in front of her.
"You cannot."
Naomi laughed once.
"I've heard that too many times this week."
"The archive is sealed by Joseph."
"Good. I'm his daughter."
Beatrice looked at her gently.
"No."
Naomi froze.
The word hurt more than it should have.
Beatrice continued quickly.
"Not legally within Covenant law."
Naomi's face hardened.
"Then your law is useless."
"That is precisely the question Joseph wanted you to answer."
Naomi stared.
Beatrice pointed toward the nine chairs.
"The second bell opens the archive only if the three blood claimants are present."
Naomi looked toward Elias.
"Three."
"Serrano," he said.
Her stomach tightened.
"Where is he?"
Beatrice answered.
"Closer than you think."
The second bell rang at sunset.
Unlike the first, Naomi heard this one from inside the House.
Deep.
Heavy.
The sound moved through the stone.
One long toll.
Then another.
Two bells.
Two stages.
Two hours closer to whatever waited at the fifth.
Immediately, iron mechanisms shifted somewhere beneath the floor.
A low grinding noise echoed through the chamber.
The center of the round table separated.
Stone panels moved apart.
A staircase appeared beneath them.
Anthony stared.
"That is excessively theatrical."
Elias stood.
"Arthur insisted."
Lucas almost smiled despite himself.
"That I believe."
Beatrice descended first.
Then Elias.
Ross wanted to send tactical officers ahead.
The staircase rejected that idea before she could act.
A metal gate dropped after the first six people passed.
Naomi.
Lucas.
Amara.
Elias.
Beatrice.
And Ross.
Anthony remained on the other side.
He stared through the bars.
"This feels targeted."
Lucas looked at him.
"Try not to be offended."
"I am profoundly offended."
Ross tested the gate.
Locked.
Beatrice continued downward.
"It will reopen."
"When?"
Ross asked.
"After the choice."
Ross's expression became murderous.
Naomi followed.
The staircase spiraled deep beneath the monastery.
The air grew warmer.
Torch-like lights appeared along the walls, though Lucas quickly identified modern wiring hidden inside old fixtures.
At the bottom waited a large underground chamber.
Shelves extended into darkness.
Boxes.
Ledgers.
Paintings.
Documents.
Thousands of objects.
Naomi stopped.
"The archive."
Elias nodded.
"Part of it."
"Part?"
"There are seven chambers."
Naomi looked around in disbelief.
"This is what everyone has been killing for?"
Beatrice shook her head.
"No."
She looked toward a massive steel door at the far end.
"They've been killing for what's behind that."
Three locks covered the door.
Each was marked with a symbol.
Black circle.
Flame.
Thread.
Elias.
Serrano.
Naomi.
Three claimants.
Naomi walked closer.
The thread symbol seemed almost insultingly simple.
A needle crossing a line.
Her entire life reduced to an inheritance mark.
"I won't open it."
Elias stood beside her.
"You may have to."
"No."
"Naomi—"
She turned.
"Stop saying my name like authority comes with knowing it."
Elias became silent.
Naomi pointed at the door.
"If opening that gives Serrano protected identities, I don't touch it."
"You misunderstand."
"Then explain."
Elias looked toward Beatrice.
She nodded.
He faced Naomi.
"Opening it does not release the registry."
"What does?"
"The fifth bell."
Naomi felt cold.
"And what happens before then?"
"Each claimant is tested."
"How?"
"Truth."
Naomi laughed without humor.
"Of course."
"No puzzles?"
"There will be puzzles."
"No poison?"
"Possibly."
Lucas stepped between them.
"Possibly?"
Elias raised one hand.
"I did not design every stage."
Lucas looked ready to forget every rule of diplomacy.
Naomi touched his arm.
He looked at her.
"I'm okay."
"No, you're not."
"No."
She almost smiled.
"But I need answers."
Lucas exhaled.
He nodded.
"Then I stay beside you."
Elias watched them.
Something unreadable crossed his face.
Perhaps envy.
Perhaps memory.
Before Naomi could ask, a speaker hidden somewhere in the chamber crackled.
A man's voice filled the room.
Smooth.
Older.
Familiar.
Naomi froze.
Lucas's hand found hers.
Mateo Serrano.
"Naomi."
Her stomach tightened.
Beatrice looked toward the walls.
"He's on the lower channel."
Serrano laughed softly.
"Thirty years."
Naomi said nothing.
"Thirty years believing you were dead."
Still nothing.
"Do you know what that does to a man?"
Naomi finally answered.
"It doesn't make him murder people."
Silence.
Then a quiet laugh.
"Joseph raised you well."
Her chest tightened at the sound of his approval.
She hated it.
"I don't need your opinion of my father."
"Your father?"
The words held amusement.
Lucas's grip tightened.
Naomi's expression became ice.
"Be very careful."
Serrano paused.
Then his voice softened.
"Gabriel was the name your mother loved."
Amara stepped forward.
"No."
Serrano became silent.
For several seconds, nothing came through.
Then—
"Amara."
She looked toward the speaker.
There were tears in her eyes.
But no softness.
"Mateo."
"You still call me that."
"It is what you became."
Another pause.
"I searched for you."
"I know."
"I searched for our daughter."
"You searched for something to own."
His voice hardened.
"She was mine."
Naomi spoke immediately.
"I have never been yours."
Silence.
Longer this time.
When Serrano spoke again, the warmth was gone.
"You don't know what Joseph took from me."
Naomi looked toward Amara.
Then Elias.
Then the sealed archive.
"You're right."
Her voice strengthened.
"I don't."
"And I want to know."
Lucas turned toward her.
Naomi continued before anyone could interrupt.
"But I'm not going to learn it from a man who kidnaps mothers and murders fathers."