My Dangerous Duke (45 page)

“Don’t. Touch. Anything,” Rohan warned. “I’m sure it’s all rigged in a most disagreeable way.”

“What is that thing?” Kate pointed straight ahead to the source of the churning noise. “Some sort of giant astronomical clock?”

“The Wheel of Time,” Rohan murmured, staring grimly at it. “Like you saw in the symbol of the Initiate’s Brand.”

At the far end of the hall, the giant astronomical clock kept on revolving like a millwheel ducking between two pools of fire.

Beside him, Kate studied it through narrowed eyes. “What do we do with it?”

“I’m not sure. Come on. We’ll figure it out.”

As they neared it, he saw that the Wheel was covered in a metal casing engraved with Roman numerals, astrological symbols, a display of lunar phases, and more odd figures.

Following its turning with his gaze, he noticed a narrow footbridge suspended above the Wheel and realized what they had to do. “I believe we’re to catch hold of the bar and let the Wheel carry us each up to that walkway up there.” He pointed at it.

“Oh.” She nodded, then glanced at him. “Isn’t that whole thing made out of metal? It must be getting hotter with every pass through the fire. Of course, if you let go, you fall into those pools of flame.”

“I’m more concerned about that next set of giant gears the Wheel runs into. You see, at about the two o’clock position?”

“Hm, yes. I wonder which of these devices they operate.” She folded her arms across her chest as she studied it. “So, if we let go too soon, we’ll be roasted, and if we hold on too long, we’ll be ground up into mincemeat.”

“Sounds about right.”

“Not to mention that flimsy little walkway up there looks treacherous at best. It’s suspended in midair, and I don’t see a railing.”

“I’ll go first,” he said grimly. “Maybe somewhere up there is a way to shut this thing off, like the last one.”

“But if you shut it off, I’ll be stuck down here. I can do this, Rohan. You don’t have to be so madly protective of me all the time, you know.”

“Haven’t you noticed protecting you is the whole reason for my existence these days?” he drawled. “You mean the world to me, Kate. No matter what you might think.”

She smiled uncertainly at him. “Go on, then. I’ll be all right down here. I promise.”

He glanced toward the approach to the Wheel, down a short walkway flanked on both sides by shallow rectangular pools of burning oil.

“I’ll see you up there in a moment,” he assured her as he turned away. But separating from her in this strange place even for a moment was the most difficult thing he had done in a very long time.

“Go on. Impress me,” she teased, seeing his hesitation.

He turned around and stared at her, and when she sent him a roguish wink, he was lost.
I adore you.

He shook his head at her in amusement, then steeled himself, and turned to face the Wheel. He eyed the handle, getting into position like a runner before a race.

Go!

Taking a few running steps, he leaped up on it. The bar was hot, though not yet too hot to touch. He held on to it firmly as it rose toward the walkway overhead. He did not look down, but gathered himself to leap onto the walkway above.

At exactly the right moment, he swung himself onto the narrow footbridge above and let go of the handle. The Wheel churned on as Rohan stopped the impetus of his forceful motion, rolling onto the walkway.

The high, suspended footbridge was unstable; it swayed a bit under his weight, and to make matter worse, it caught a strong cross-draft from somewhere that shook the whole thing and added to the dizzying effect.

He let out a low exhalation finding himself poised above a great hollow pit that dropped away into the mountain. There were more odd devices in the darkness beyond, but he paid them little mind for now, more concerned about getting Kate safely next to him again.

“Bravo!” she called from below in a rather shaky tone, seeing that it was her turn.

“Don’t dally,” he warned. “That handle’s getting hot. Your impulse will be to let go, but don’t.”

“Maybe I should leave my gloves on?”

“I’d take them off,” he called back. “It might be too slippery. Hurry up, I’m getting lonely up here!”

“Coming!” He watched her put the
Journal
back into her knapsack. She took off her gloves and threw them in, too, then she closed her lantern and attached it to her knapsack.

His heart pounded. “You can do this, Kate.” He crouched down, positioning himself to grab her off the Wheel.

With his heart in his throat, Rohan watched her suddenly bolt down the walkway just as he had, her knapsack and lantern banging against her back. She grabbed the handle and let out a small cry of pain at the growing heat of the metal bar, but she held on, and in the next instant, the Wheel was carrying her up, up, toward the walkway, toward him.

“Hang on!” he shouted. “Don’t look down!” He stared wildly as she neared. “That’s good. Not yet. A little more.” He reached out to help her. “Let go! I’ve got you!”

She leaped onto the walkway with a small cry. He guided her with his right hand, then threw his weight atop her to stop her from rolling off the other side.

He could not save her lantern, however. It flew free and went hurtling down into the blackness of the pit. They both stared at the tiny light until it disappeared.

“Thanks!” she panted, then she glanced past him, her eyes widening. “So that’s what the other gears operate!”

He turned to see what she was staring at, and as much as he despised the Prometheans, even he was impressed. A giant clockwork orrery whirled through the great, black, empty pit before them. Planets and their moons mounted on octopus-like metal arms revolved speedily around a replica of the sun, but the workings of the complex metal structure were shrouded in the darkness below.

A few small chinks in the mountain let in narrow slivers of sunbeams that gave a better view of the whole bizarre contraption. Strandy bits of thin black gauze trailed from the ceiling like disintegrating banners and wafted in the draft.

Past the solar system model across the pit, on the far end of the cavern, sat a replica of an Egyptian pyramid, about the size of a three-story building.

Rohan stared as an incredulous realization began flooding every atom of his being.

Kate happened to glance at him and noticed his stricken stare into the pit. “What’s the matter?” she asked quickly.

He stared at the orrery and blankly shook his head. “It’s … all mechanical. It’s all just clever gadgetry. There’s nothing supernatural about—any of this!” he burst out with an angry gesture at the orrery.

Kate tilted her head with a quizzical look. “I know.”

He scoffed in amazement, but his eyes were finally opened to the truth, now that he had seen the Alchemist’s Tomb for himself. The phantoms and demons he had feared did not exist; they were just the shapes with which his own superstitious mind had animated his guilt, that false condemnation he had carried for so long, which Gerald’s revelation about the Promethean children had already begun to reverse.

The insight left him astounded. “You were right,” he murmured as he stared into the pit. “It was all just an excuse … There is no truth to the Kilburn Curse. Is there? There never was. I hid behind it.” He swallowed hard. “Because I didn’t think that anyone could ever really love me.”

“Well, you were wrong about that,” she told him softly, bringing him back to the moment at hand.

When he turned to her, at a loss, she touched his arm in reassurance and shook her head with a tender half smile.

“I feel like such a fool!” he murmured, running his hand through his hair. “You saw it all along.”

“Don’t worry about that now,” she soothed. “Let’s just figure out how to get across here, all right?”

Her gentle redirection in that moment was the final evidence that convinced him, if there was any doubt left in his suspicious brain, that Kate’s love was real. She shouldn’t even be here, risking her life for him, but she had stood beside him, knowing that if she was here, he would be forced to act fearless even if he was quaking in his superstitious boots. Now that her understanding of him had been verified, there was no hint of gloating in her sincere gaze, no I-told-you-so.

She waited, looking at him expectantly, ready as always to put her faith in him. Still willing to see him as a hero, not a Beast. He was humbled, and he wanted with all his soul to show her he could be worthy of that love.

Shaking off his daze, he kissed her on the forehead, rose, dusted off his hands, and got back to work with a vengeance. “Stay put,” he ordered.

Then he prowled to the other side of the quivering footbridge, where he quickly found a chest full of grappling hooks and several loops of strong hemp rope.

Given his occupation, he was well versed in the use of this tool, and quickly threaded the rope through the metal eye. He returned to Kate, who watched him search out a target. Spotting a long, black bar running above the solar system model, he drew back his arm and cast the grappling hook with a mighty throw.

It flew over the bar and looped around it twice, locking into place when he pulled the rope to tighten it. Judging the distance with a sniper’s eye, he measured out the length of rope they would need and tied the other end into a foot loop for them to stand on.

He got into position, setting his foot through the loop, then held out his hand to Kate. “We’ve got to time this right so we don’t collide with one of these blasted planets.” He drew her to him. “Put your foot through the loop on top of mine and stand in front of me. Hold on tight to the rope. Don’t worry, I won’t let you fall.”

She obeyed, blanching as she peeked down at the dark, canyonlike space before them. Keeping her between his arms, Rohan grasped the rope, then began watching for his moment, visually timing the whirling paths of the planets.

“Ready …
now!
” He shoved off with one foot, and they instantly swept away from their perch on the high end of the cavern.

Kate shrieked as they flew across the empty space, barreling through the darkness. They swooshed in between Venus and Mars, holding on for dear life, their hair and their coats blowing in the breeze.

Jaw clenched, Rohan kept his stare fixed on their destination as he held Kate to him. In the next moment, they were tumbling off the rope at the base of the pyramid, rolling onto solid ground.

“Whew! You all right?” Rohan stopped himself and looked over at Kate, his chest heaving. He jumped up, exhilarated by their crossing.

“Am I alive?” she mumbled with her face buried against the furry sleeve of her coat.

He picked her up and set her on her feet again. “You’d better be.”

“Ugh, I’m so dizzy my knees are wobbly. I need to sit down for a second.” She stumbled over to the first layer of the pyramid and sat down as if on a bench, but as soon as she put her weight on it, the whole row of blocks tilted, spilling her onto the ground. “Hey!”

She got up, dusting herself off, and scowled at the pyramid indignantly. “That wasn’t very hospitable!”

“I guess this thing’s not as solid as it appears. And look—the row you sat on didn’t flip back.” He furrowed his brow. The first row of blocks were no longer stepped out like a bench but tilted on a smooth angle. “Curious.”

“What do you think we’re meant to do, climb to the top of it?”

“Yes, then go down inside. There’s an opening at the top. Thirteen layers high,” he counted. “Did you notice all the blocks are numbered?”

She nodded. “There must be some sort of pattern or number sequence marking out a path to the top.”

“Looks pretty random to me.” The numbers on the blocks ranged from single digits into the thousands.

They spent a few moments walking around the pyramid, trying to discern a pattern. Meanwhile, behind them, the celestial model kept on revolving, backlit by the distant glow from the Hall of Fire.

“Can you make out any number on the capstone?” Kate inquired.

He squinted in the darkness. “It has a number one on it.” The capstone was separate from the rest of the pyramid, suspended over the top of it.

“Hm. Does the top row have a one, also?” she asked.

“Yes, actually.”

“What about the second layer—is there a two?”

Rohan scanned horizontally across the second layer in the darkness. “Yes, and there’s a three on the third row, but I hardly think it’s as simple as merely counting—”

“No, of course not. If you can see a number five on the fourth row, then I think I know the pattern.”

He scanned the fourth row. “There it is, number five. Is this some sort of puzzle from your old friend, Alcuin?”

“No, one of his contemporaries—Fibonacci. Thirteen layers, the one’s at the top, which means we’re working backwards again.”

Rohan watched her, impressed, as she began mumbling under her breath and counting briefly on her fingers.

“Three hundred seventy-seven! No, wait that’s the one I sat on. You’re on the second row up now … look for two hundred thirty-three.”

Rohan walked down the line of the pyramid and found it, to his surprise. “Got it!”

“Do you want to try stepping on it?”

“Might as well.” Carefully, he took a long-legged stride up onto the second row, standing on the block. “Solid! What’s next? ”

“Um—a hundred and forty-four!”

He glanced at the blocks and spotted it. “You’d better come with me in case you need a hand. Some of these blocks are fairly far apart.” She hurried after him, and he gave her his hand, steadying her as she stepped up onto the block with him. “What’s next?”

“Eighty-nine.”

He pointed. “There it is!”

They found it and proceeded in the same manner, scaling blocks labeled fifty-five, thirty-four, twenty-one, occasionally having to stretch quite far to make it onto the appropriate blocks without setting off the mechanism.