evil.” Alec said, looking around
the crypt.
Cronin stopped and stared at him. “You
are not evil.”
Alec barked
out a laugh that echoed sharply right back at him. “I’m not exactly
what humans would call good, either, Cronin.” He walked through the
columns, lightly touching the stone pillars with his fingers. “You
know, when I was little, I thought vampires lived in huge castles
in Transylvania or somewhere, all made from stone.” He looked up at
the vaulted ceilings. “But I couldn’t think of anything
worse.”
Cronin studied him curiously for a moment. “This is just a building, Alec. Rich
in history, yes. A place of worship for some, but still just a
building. When it was constructed, there was no such material as
drywall.”
Alec shrugged it off and gave Cronin a smile. “I know. It’s
still creepy ,
though.”
Cronin held out his hand. “Come on.
There’s nothing down here.”
They walked back u p
the steps to the presbytery where they waited for the others. Alec
could hear their thoughts as they searched the walls, ceilings, and
the hidden compartments for any sign of the Zoan, gargoyles, lycan,
or anything.
“ They found nothing,” Alec
whispered.
Cronin sat
in the Archbishop’s throne. “I prefer the other chair,” he said,
trying to rouse a smile from Alec. It worked for a fleeting
moment.
“ The other one was more
your era,” Alec said.
“ Always having a dig at my
age,” Cronin said wistfully. “One day you shall be a thousand years
old and I’ll remind you of this.”
“ I might be a thousand,”
Alec agreed, “but you’ll be two thousand. Geriatric, by anyone’s
standards.”
Cronin gasped, faking horror. He put
his hand to his heart. “You wound me, m’cridhe.”
Kennard was first to come back, declaring what Alec already
knew. There was nothing here. Eiji and Jodis came back next, and
while they bickered and joked
about getting Cronin his very own throne, Alec wandered down to the
burial tombs and the stained glass windows behind them.
He studied them, taking in the highest
frames, which a human would need a twenty foot ladder to do. And he
found something reoccurring throughout the Miracle
Windows.
“ Cronin,” he
murmured.
They stopped their joking and joined
him in front of the magnificent stained glass windows. “Alec, what
is it?”
He nodded
toward the highest window. “Second frame from the top, in each
section, can you see that?”
There in fragments of colored glass, each over eight
hundred years old, was a knight with a lion blazoned on his chest, spearing a blackened
devilish creature. No doubt thought to be symbolic of the slaying
of evil, Alec saw it for what it was.
The blackened, devilish creature had a
wolf-like face, complete with a muzzle full of sharp teeth,
razor-like talons, and wings.
“ Zoan,” Cronin
whispered.
Alec nodded. “Yes.”
“ What is the age of these
windows?” Eiji asked.
“ Twelfth century,” Kennard
answered.
“ There might not be stone gargoyles here, but we’re on the
right track,” Jodis said. She smiled at Alec , clearly happy at some kind of development.
“This is good.”
“ He looks like Saint George,” Alec noted. “And each man
spearing a creature has the lion on his chest. Is that to depict
the British monarchy or to ward off evil vampires?”
“ S aint George is the
patron saint of the Royal Family,” Kennard said.
“ To protect them from
those dragon-like creatures?” Alec asked. “The Zoan?”
Kennard looked up at the stained glass
windows. He took a moment to answer. “Possibly.”
“ Where to next?” Cronin
asked.
“ Rochester Cathedral,” Kennard replied.
“ These glass pictorials resemble Saint George,” Eiji said.
“Shouldn’t we be going to Saint George’s Cathedral?”
“ S aint George’s
Cathedral wasn’t built until the 1800s,” Kennard told them. He
looked back up at the windows. “There’ll be no such histories as
these. And Rochester was built
the crypt.
Cronin stopped and stared at him. “You
are not evil.”
Alec barked
out a laugh that echoed sharply right back at him. “I’m not exactly
what humans would call good, either, Cronin.” He walked through the
columns, lightly touching the stone pillars with his fingers. “You
know, when I was little, I thought vampires lived in huge castles
in Transylvania or somewhere, all made from stone.” He looked up at
the vaulted ceilings. “But I couldn’t think of anything
worse.”
Cronin studied him curiously for a moment. “This is just a building, Alec. Rich
in history, yes. A place of worship for some, but still just a
building. When it was constructed, there was no such material as
drywall.”
Alec shrugged it off and gave Cronin a smile. “I know. It’s
still creepy ,
though.”
Cronin held out his hand. “Come on.
There’s nothing down here.”
They walked back u p
the steps to the presbytery where they waited for the others. Alec
could hear their thoughts as they searched the walls, ceilings, and
the hidden compartments for any sign of the Zoan, gargoyles, lycan,
or anything.
“ They found nothing,” Alec
whispered.
Cronin sat
in the Archbishop’s throne. “I prefer the other chair,” he said,
trying to rouse a smile from Alec. It worked for a fleeting
moment.
“ The other one was more
your era,” Alec said.
“ Always having a dig at my
age,” Cronin said wistfully. “One day you shall be a thousand years
old and I’ll remind you of this.”
“ I might be a thousand,”
Alec agreed, “but you’ll be two thousand. Geriatric, by anyone’s
standards.”
Cronin gasped, faking horror. He put
his hand to his heart. “You wound me, m’cridhe.”
Kennard was first to come back, declaring what Alec already
knew. There was nothing here. Eiji and Jodis came back next, and
while they bickered and joked
about getting Cronin his very own throne, Alec wandered down to the
burial tombs and the stained glass windows behind them.
He studied them, taking in the highest
frames, which a human would need a twenty foot ladder to do. And he
found something reoccurring throughout the Miracle
Windows.
“ Cronin,” he
murmured.
They stopped their joking and joined
him in front of the magnificent stained glass windows. “Alec, what
is it?”
He nodded
toward the highest window. “Second frame from the top, in each
section, can you see that?”
There in fragments of colored glass, each over eight
hundred years old, was a knight with a lion blazoned on his chest, spearing a blackened
devilish creature. No doubt thought to be symbolic of the slaying
of evil, Alec saw it for what it was.
The blackened, devilish creature had a
wolf-like face, complete with a muzzle full of sharp teeth,
razor-like talons, and wings.
“ Zoan,” Cronin
whispered.
Alec nodded. “Yes.”
“ What is the age of these
windows?” Eiji asked.
“ Twelfth century,” Kennard
answered.
“ There might not be stone gargoyles here, but we’re on the
right track,” Jodis said. She smiled at Alec , clearly happy at some kind of development.
“This is good.”
“ He looks like Saint George,” Alec noted. “And each man
spearing a creature has the lion on his chest. Is that to depict
the British monarchy or to ward off evil vampires?”
“ S aint George is the
patron saint of the Royal Family,” Kennard said.
“ To protect them from
those dragon-like creatures?” Alec asked. “The Zoan?”
Kennard looked up at the stained glass
windows. He took a moment to answer. “Possibly.”
“ Where to next?” Cronin
asked.
“ Rochester Cathedral,” Kennard replied.
“ These glass pictorials resemble Saint George,” Eiji said.
“Shouldn’t we be going to Saint George’s Cathedral?”
“ S aint George’s
Cathedral wasn’t built until the 1800s,” Kennard told them. He
looked back up at the windows. “There’ll be no such histories as
these. And Rochester was built
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