Then, it was our turn to get tickets, and Adrian selected four for the Tourist route. He paid cash and then handed two tickets to Costa and Jasmine.
“You are in luck,” the female teller remarked. “The English-speaking tour group needed four more to be complete.”
“Let’s hope our luck continues,” I said under my breath, then gave the teller a parting smile as we joined the group.
Edgar, our tour’s group leader, went over a brief history of how the mine was thousands of years old and used to be a major producer of salt for the area. I stopped listening after the first few minutes, tuning into my hallowed sensor instead. So far, it was still flatlined. After several more minutes of droning on, we were herded into the mine’s version of an elevator and our descent began.
I was glad I was wearing jeans, but I soon realized that my blouse wasn’t suited for this. With each story that we went down, the temperature seemed to plummet, until I was fighting a shiver when we stopped and got out at the first leg of the tour.
“Everything you see is made of salt,” Edgar was saying, and I paused in my hallowed-finder mode to give an appreciative look around. Statues and what looked like 3-D paintings were carved into the walls, as detailed and impressive as anything I’d seen in a museum. I could understand why Edgar had to specify that all of this was salt, too. With its bluish-gray color, it more resembled granite than the stuff I sprinkled on my food.
An hour later, I was torn between being thoroughly impressed and very disappointed. We’d traveled down hundreds of carved steps, seen the magnificence of the Chapel of St. Kinga, which rivaled the basilica for beauty, in my opinion, as well as other caverns that were decorated with life-size statues acting out religious scenes. There was even an underground lake, with a light show playing across its glassy surface set to the music of Chopin. Yet while I’d been awed by all the works of art around me, especially considering how they had been chiseled out by hand from solid rock salt, my hallowed sensor had been silent.
I didn’t understand it. If there was ever an example of senseless human behavior being influenced by a supercharged, hallowed object, this mine should be it. And still, I felt nothing hallowed at play here.
After we had lunch at the underground restaurant—yes, there was an underground restaurant—and the group was starting to reform, I pulled Adrian aside.
“We need to try going deeper,” I told him. From our guide, I now knew that the Tourist tour only descended a quarter of the way down into the parts of the mine open to the public.
“Edgar,” Adrian said, sidling up to our brown-haired, slightly portly guide. “This has been wonderful, but my wife wants to get more adventurous. We’ll need to go back up to get tickets for the Miners or Mystery tours.”
“I’m sorry, my friend, those require purchasing two weeks in advance,” Edgar replied.
Adrian smiled at him and pulled out his wallet, fingering through the still-impressive stack of bills in it. “Are you sure there isn’t anything you can do? I’d hate to disappoint her.”
Edgar’s features tightened in obvious offense. Great, we’d been assigned an honest, unbribable man as our guide. Now we were probably about to get kicked out entirely.
I rushed to place my hand over Adrian’s wallet, giving Edgar my best guileless smile. “So sorry! I’m afraid we’re a little too used to how things work in America. Plus, this is our honeymoon, so he’s tripping all over himself trying to make me happy. I hope you excuse his exuberance. He meant no insult—”
I stopped my apologetic gushing when Edgar suddenly grabbed my hand. His grip tightened when I tried to pull away, and then Adrian’s arm shot out, landing against Edgar’s throat.
“Take your hands off her,” Adrian said in a dangerous tone.
Costa sidled over, giving a concerned glance at the standoff. “Everything okay?” he asked quietly.
Edgar still hadn’t relinquished my hand. He couldn’t stop staring at it, even as Adrian increased the pressure to push his forearm deeper into Edgar’s throat.
“Let. Go,” Adrian said, each word heavy with threat.
“Wait,” I breathed, realizing what Edgar was starting at. I pulled up my sleeve, revealing more of the braided-rope tattoo, and Edgar’s eyes bugged. “You recognize this, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Edgar managed to say.
Adrian stared hard at Edgar. I hadn’t seen any telltale shine over Edgar’s eyes or other minion characteristics, and when Adrian dropped his arm, I knew he hadn’t, either.
A small crowd had started to gather as members of our group stopped what they were doing to watch this. I ignored them and tapped Edgar’s hand, which was still clasped over the lower part of my tattoo. “How do you know this mark?”
Edgar finally let go of me to rub his throat where Adrian had half throttled him. Then he shocked us all.
“Because I am one of the Guardians of the staff, and we have been waiting a long, long time for you, Davidian.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
EDGAR FOLLOWED UP his stunning announcement by pulling the fire alarm. We stayed below, but the remaining members of our group plus all the other tourists and most of the mine’s employees were rushed up to the surface. Only Edgar and an old, spindly man he introduced as Piotr remained with the four of us, and as we waited for the mine to completely empty, Edgar told us its real history.
“Piotr and I are both Guardians. The roots of our order can be traced back to 660 BC, when the first of us smuggled priceless relics out of Jerusalem before the Babylonians invaded. Later, some of us became Templars, but our primary responsibility was always the same—guard the staff until the day of the last Davidian.”
It was beyond unbelievable that a group of people had been expecting my arrival for over twenty-six hundred years. Then again, it was also unbelievable that I had a hallowed weapon even older than that supernaturally embedded into my arm, so who was I to judge?
“Is it here?” I asked, everything tensing in me.
Both Edgar and Piotr appeared surprised by the question. “Of course,” Edgar said. “Can’t you feel it?”
My breath exploded out of me as relief nearly weakened my knees. We’d finally found it!
“Ivy’s only recently begun to embrace her abilities, so she’s still learning how to hone them,” Adrian replied.
Piotr still looked doubtful, but Edgar seemed satisfied by that. “It is also much deeper than where we stand.”
“You were the Guardian entrusted with its location?” Piotr asked, sounding very surprised.
Edgar bowed his head. “Now that the awaited day has come, I can at last admit that I was the one chosen among our order.”
“And where is the staff, exactly?” I prompted.
“Beneath the Russegger Chambers,” Edgar replied.
Piotr looked at Edgar as if he’d lost his mind. “You alone out of dozens were entrusted with its location, and you were foresworn never to reveal it to anyone!”
“Except her,” Edgar replied, gesturing to my right hand for emphasis. “As foretold, she bears the mark of the Davidian.”
All this “foretold” stuff was starting to creep me out. Wait until these guys found out that I was here to retrieve the staff but wasn’t going to use it yet. They might believe my lineage made me all that, whereas I knew I wasn’t nearly strong enough to attempt to wield the staff yet. It would be safer for me to play Russian roulette with a half-full cylinder of bullets.
Piotr gave me another skeptical look, then turned back to Edgar. “I will ensure that all the chambers are empty and send the rest of the employees away. Only Guardians should be present for this.”
Adrian began to strip the nearby restaurant tables of their tablecloths, clattering dishes and glasses to the floor. “We need lots of these to wrap it in,” he muttered, and Costa hurried over to help.
Jasmine stayed with me, and I was startled when she came closer and her hand slid into mine. Then I squeezed back, infinitely glad by the wordless gesture of support. She might be mad, worried and highly disapproving of recent events, but she was letting me know that, no matter what, she was there for me.