through the fire and smoke, sprinting straight for her goal. The glow of the palace seemed an impossible distance ahead.
Still, she pictured Jack gurgling and smiling.
She felt Aggie shaking with fear.
She dug in her toes—and ran for all their lives.
7:13 P.M.
Gray stood with Kowalski at the broken gate into the palace. Gray clutched his pistol. Kowalski’s earlier barrage had not gone unnoticed. From all directions, fiery shapes closed toward their position.
“Runnin’ out of time here,” Kowalski warned.
Gray held his breath—then heard a thunderous pounding to the right. He twisted in that direction.
Around the curve of the palace wall, Seichan ran into view, her eyes wild, her breath heaving. “Go!” she screamed at them.
Before either of them could move, a huge bronze horse thundered into view behind her. As big as a Clydesdale, it stampeded after her, its metal hooves sparking off the stone. It came at them with its head low, its mane a line of flames shooting high, trailing a cloak of smoke behind it.
Gray was momentarily struck by its deadly beauty.
Less impressed, Kowalski waved to Seichan. “Through here!”
As she reached them, she grabbed Aggie from her shoulder and dove under the gap in the crooked door. Kowalski followed behind her.
Gray fired at the steed, trying to buy the others a few extra seconds, but his rounds only pinged off the bronze shields of its charging body, mere horseflies nipping at the beast.
The stallion lowered its head further and thundered straight at him.
Gray’s ankles were suddenly grabbed in an iron grip. His legs were yanked, and he fell flat and slid backward under the door. Above, the horse rammed its head into the gold door, hard enough to knock it open another few inches. With the resounding impact, fire exploded around Gray, burning his cheek as he was hauled into the palace.
Outside, the steed rose and hammered its hooves against the door, but the gate held for now. Gray understood why the beast failed to get in. As he was dragged into the palace, he saw its doors were a foot thick, likely solid gold.
Gray gained his feet, joining the others gathered in the entry hall.
Kowalski was down on one knee, his ammunition duffel open on the floor, already fumbling another drum magazine into his fearsome weapon.
As the steed outside continued its pounding, Bailey crouched and stared out. “Hippoi Kabeirikoi,” he mumbled.
Kowalski scowled at the priest.
Bailey nodded to the gate. “One of the four bronze horses that Hephaestus crafted to pull the chariot of his twin sons.”
As the stallion continued to batter at the door, other lumbering shapes could be heard approaching outside, their bronze legs ringing off the limestone, likely drawn by the commotion. Not knowing how long the massive gold gates would hold, Gray got them all moving.
“We need to find another way out,” he said. “Hunayn hinted at something behind this palace. That’s where we need to go.”
Gray led them past the gates, across a short entry hall of tarnished bronze, and into a vast hall. It rose three stories to a domed roof centered on a huge golden chandelier in the shape of a conch shell, its edges flickering with golden flames. More torches lit the walls.
Beyond them rose two tall gold thrones raised on a dais and carved with seafaring images of ships sailing the seas, of large fish with curled tails leaping high out of stylized waves. Behind them climbed a natural rock fireplace, sculpted out of the cavern wall. Its huge hearth danced with oil-fed flames.
Two arched passageways flanked the fireplace, leading deeper into the rock of the greater cavern.
Gray pointed to them. “We should check those out.”
“If you say split up . . .” Kowalski warned.
Gray ignored him. He motioned to Seichan, Kowalski, and Maria. “You three check the left. We’ll take the right. Stay in sight of one another. Don’t proceed into either tunnel. We’ll only explore farther”—he glanced at Kowalski—“together.”
“Damn straight,” the big man said.
Halfway across the hall, noises began to echo all around, rising from the bronze hallways and galleries to either side. A scraping of metal on metal, accompanied by a clinking and rattling.
“We’re not alone in here,” Mac moaned.
And not just in here.
Behind them, the distant blast of a pistol reached them—followed a moment later by more gunfire and the louder explosion of a grenade. The group cast concerned looks all around.
Gray glanced over to Seichan.
She merely smiled with satisfaction.
Apparently her mission a moment ago had not been in vain.
7:22 P.M.
Rifle at her shoulder, Nehir scrambled