The Amber Room Page 0,97

did need to think, but not now. Grumer was his

main concern at the moment. The climb was winding him, his calves and thighs tightening. He thought he was in shape, but his three-mile runs in Atlanta were usually on flat earth, nothing like this murderous incline.

The path crested ahead and Grumer disappeared over the top.

The abbey was no longer a distant edifice. Here the facade spanned two football fields, rising sharply from the cliff shoulder, the walls elevated by a vaulted stone foundation. Bright sodium vapor lights hidden in the forested base flooded the colored stone. Rows of tall mullioned windows glistened up three stories. A lighted gateway rose ahead, buildings stacked on either side and above. Two bastions flanked the main portal. A semidarkened forecourt lay beyond. Fifty yards ahead, Grumer disappeared through the open portal. The bright lights surrounding the gate worried him. Pigeons cooed from somewhere beyond the glare. No one else was in sight.

He led Rachel forward and glanced up at sculptures of the apostles Peter and Paul resting on blackened stone pedestals. On either side saints and angels vied with fish and mermaids. A coat of arms framed the portal's center, two golden keys on a royal blue background. A huge cross towered over the gable, the inscription clear under the flood lights. ABSIT GLORIARI NISI IN CRUCE.

"Glory only in the cross," he muttered.

"What?"

He pointed up. "The inscription. 'Glory only in the cross.' From Galatians, 6:14." They passed through the portal. A freestanding sign identified the space beyond as GATEKEEPER'S COURT. Thankfully, the courtyard was unlit. Grumer was now at

the far end, rushing up a wide set of stone steps, entering what looked like a church. "We can't go in after him," Rachel said. "How many people could be in there at this hour?"

"I agree. Let's find another way in."

He studied the courtyard and surrounding buildings. Three-story structures rose on all sides, the facades baroque and adorned with Roman arches, elaborate cornices, and statues that added the required religious tone. The majority of windows were dark. Shadows danced behind drawn sheers in the few that were lit.

The church Grumer entered jutted forward from the opposite end of the dark courtyard, its symmetrical twin towers flanked by a brightly lit octagonal dome. It seemed an appendage of the farthest building, which would actually be the front of the abbey, the side facing Stod and the river, overlooking the highest point of the bluff.

He pointed to the far side of the courtyard, beyond the church, at a set of double oak

doors. "Maybe those lead to another way."

They hustled across the cobbled courtyard, past islands of trees and shrubs. A cool wind eased by, leaving a chill. He tried the lock. It opened. He pushed the leaden door inward-slowly, to minimize the squeaks. An alleylike passageway spanned out before them, four dim incandescent fixtures glowed at the far end. They stepped inside. Halfway down the corridor, a staircase rose up with wooden balustrades. Oil paintings of kings and emperors lined the way up. Beyond the staircase, farther down the musty corridor, another closed door waited.

"The church would be on this level. That door ought to lead inside," he whispered. The latch opened on the first try. He inched the door open, toward him. Warm air flooded the cool corridor. A heavy velvet curtain extended in both directions, a narrow passageway spanning left and right. Light flitted through periodic slits in the curtain and from the bottom. He gestured for quiet and led Rachel into the church. Through one of the curtain slits he spied the interior. Scattered pools of orange light lit the huge nave. The explosive architecture, ceiling frescoes, and rich colored stucco combined into a visual symphony, nearly overpowering in depth and form. Brownish red, gray, and gold predominated. Fluted marble pilasters reached toward a vaulted ceiling, each one adorned in elaborate gilt moldings supporting an array of statuary. His gaze drifted to the right.

A gilded crown framed the center of an oversize high altar. A huge medallion bore the inscription, NON CORONABITUR, NISI LEGITIME CERTAVERIT. Without a just fight, there is no victory, he silently translated. The Bible again. Timothy 2:5.

Two people stood off to the left-Grumer and the blonde from this morning. He glanced back over his shoulder and mouthed to Rachel. "She's here. Grumer's talking to her again."

"Can you hear?" Rachel whispered in his ear.

He shook his head, then pointed left. The narrow corridor ahead would lead them closer to where the two