Genesis. Volume 3.

January 13, 1989. Edinburgh. The Greyfriars Inn. 12:30 p.m. The hotel lobby was quiet, only the clock on the mantelpiece ticking off each second—dry, wooden, as if time here flowed differently, thicker than on the surface. The smell of wax and old wood mixed with the smell of wet wool that Sophia had hung by the stove to dry their jackets. She stood at the counter, where cups of steaming tea were piled, and greeted them in silence, because words weren't needed. Arthur, having taken off his wet jacket, sank onto a chair by the fire and stared at the flames, not even trying to hide how exhausted he was. Jack held the artifact in his hands, wrapped in the cloth Sophia had given him—the same one she'd used to wrap hot buns when they first arrived. The stone seemed harmless, ordinary, but Lisa knew: that was a deception. It pulsed even through the fabric, and she felt that pulse in her chest, like a second heart. "Sit down," Sophia said, pulling a chair closer to the fire. "You're pale as paper." "I'm fine," Jack replied, but he sat because his legs were trembling. Sophia draped a blanket over his shoulders and set a mug of tea beside him. He took it with trembling fingers but didn't drink, just warmed his hands. The others settled wherever they could. Max collapsed onto the couch, propping his feet on the armrest, and closed his eyes. Emma stood by the window, gazing at the gray sky, silent. Sasha sat on the floor, her back against the wall, staring at one spot. Jenny sat on the edge of an armchair, clutching the ring on her finger, and seemed to be listening to something no one else could hear. Lisa couldn't sit still. She paced the room, from the window to the fire, from the fire to the door, and each time she passed Jack, she paused for a moment. The artifact was here, in this hotel, with them. They had brought it from the very heart of the old city, where no one had set foot for centuries, and it was theirs. Now they had to figure out what to do with it. "We can't stay here," Arthur said, not taking his eyes off the fire. "The Circle knows where we are. They were waiting for us at the exit. They didn't attack, but they know." "They waited because they wanted to see what we'd find," Sasha said. Her voice was muffled, as if from underwater. "They always do that. Let the enemy do the work, then take the result." "But they didn't take it," Max said without opening his eyes. "Why?" "Because they can't," Jenny said. She raised her head, and the firelight glinted in her eyes. "They can't touch the artifact. It was created by the Guardians, and it doesn't obey those who serve the Sleeper. Only we can use it. That's why they're waiting. They want us to do it for them." "Do what?" Emma asked, turning from the window. "Activate it?" "Or destroy it," Jenny said. "They want to see what happens. And if we make a mistake, they'll use it." Lisa stopped by the fire and looked at Jack. He sat motionless, clutching the artifact in his hands, and his face was calm—too calm for someone who had just carried a stone out from under a collapse. "Do you feel anything?" she asked. "Yes," Jack said. "But I can't explain it. It's as if the stone is speaking to me, but not in words. It shows me images. Old ones. Darkness. And a face." "Whose face?" "I don't know. But it's familiar." He looked up, and Lisa saw that his pupils were dilated, as if he were staring into a darkness no one else could see. "Maybe it's Kane," Jenny said. "He was a Guardian. He knew how the artifact worked. Maybe his memory is preserved in the stone." "Or maybe it's him," Jack said. "I feel he's here. Not in the stone. Nearby." Silence fell over the room. Only the fire crackled in the hearth, and the clock ticked on. "That's impossible," Lisa said. "He's dead." "I know," Jack said. "But I can feel him. The way I feel metal. The way I feel seals. He's here, in this hotel." He stood, still clutching the artifact, and walked toward the door. Lisa followed, and the others rose as well. They stepped into the corridor. The old carpet muffled their footsteps, and only their breathing broke the silence. Jack walked to the stairs, then turned left, into a part of the hotel they hadn't explored before. The corridor grew narrower, the walls darker, and in the air appeared the smell of old wood and something else—dry, bitter, like ash. He stopped before a door. It looked like all the others, but it had no number. Only an old, nearly worn-away symbol, similar to those on Jenny's ring. "Here," Jack said. He pushed the door. It opened without a creak, as if it had been waiting for them. Inside, the room was small, with a single window looking onto the inner courtyard. In the center stood an antique mirror in a heavy oak frame—tall, full-length, with yellowed glass reflecting the dim light of the chandelier. Around the mirror, old tapestries hung on the walls, faded to pale gray, and the air smelled of incense and something else that defied description. "What is this?" Max asked. "It's a repository," Jenny said, entering after him. "Like the one in Genesis. The mirror is a portal. Not for passing through, but for speaking." "Speaking to whom?" Lisa asked. "To those who have passed on," Jenny replied. "The Guardians used such mirrors to contact their predecessors. To seek counsel." She approached the mirror, touched the frame with her hand. The ring on her finger flared with a dim light, and the glass darkened for a moment, then a face appeared in it. A man's face. Old, lined with wrinkles, but his eyes were young—clear, attentive. He looked at them from the depths of the mirror, as if standing in another room, separated by a thin wall. "Kane," Jack said. The old man nodded. "You came," he said. His voice was hollow, distant, as if coming from underwater. "I knew you would. The artifact was waiting for you." "You wanted us to find it," Arthur said. "Yes. I was part of that plan. I created it many years ago, when I realized the Circle had gone too far. I knew that one day someone would be needed who could use it." "And who is that?" Max asked. "All of you," Kane said. "Not one, but all together. The artifact doesn't obey one person. It requires a connection. The very one that bound you with red threads. Without that connection, it's useless." "We lost the threads," Arthur said. "When we defeated Crowley, they disappeared." "They didn't disappear," Kane said. "They became part of you. Now you're bound not by fate, but by choice. That's stronger. That's what the artifact needs." He turned his gaze to Jack. "You can feel its power," he said. "But you're afraid it will break free." "I feel it's like Crowley," Jack said. "Just as cold." "Because it's made of the same thing. But it's not evil. It's neutral. How you use it determines its nature." "And if I can't control it?" "Then you won't use it," Kane said. "And the artifact will remain useless. But I think you can." He shifted his gaze to all of them again. "You have until tomorrow night. The Circle will attack. They won't wait for you to be ready. They want to take the artifact before you can activate it." "Where can we activate it?" Lisa asked. "At Genesis," Kane said. "There's an old seal there, created before the Circle existed. It's connected to the artifact. If you bring it there and connect it to the seal, it will work." "And then what?" Arthur asked. "It will seal the Sleeper," Kane said. "Forever. Along with it, all the Devourers that feed on fear will disappear. The world will be free." "And the Circle?" Sasha asked. "The Circle will vanish," Kane said. "They can't exist without the Sleeper. They built everything on its power. Without it, they're just people who have lost their power." He paused and added more quietly: "But you must understand: activating the artifact will require a sacrifice. Not necessarily death, but loss. It's always that way." "Loss of what?" Emma asked. "I don't know," Kane said. "That depends on you. But are you ready for it? Are you ready to lose something to save everyone?" Lisa looked at Jack. He clutched the artifact and looked back at her with the same resolve she felt. "Yes," she said. "We're ready." Kane nodded, and his face began to pale, fading into the depths of the mirror. "I believe in you," he said. "I always have." He vanished, and the glass became as it was before—clouded, reflecting only their own faces. Lisa stood, looking at her reflection, thinking about what she had just promised. She didn't know what they would lose. But she knew she had to do it. For everyone. For herself. "We're going back to Brookfield," Arthur said. "Today." They turned and left the room, leaving the mirror behind. The corridor was quiet again, only their footsteps on the carpet and a hum somewhere above. Sophia was waiting for them at the stairs. She didn't ask what they had seen. She just looked at them and said: "I've packed the things. We're leaving." They stepped out of the hotel into the gray Edinburgh day. The fog had lifted, leaving behind wet stones and clear, cold air. The city stood still, as if holding its breath. The van started on the first try. Arthur took the wheel, Max beside him. The rest settled in the back. Sophia, as always, wrapped everyone in blankets and handed out the sandwiches she'd made that morning. "We'll come back," she said. "We always come back." "Yes," Arthur said. "Now we know where we're going." The van pulled away, leaving Edinburgh behind. Lisa stared out the window at the castle, slowly disappearing behind the hills, and thought about how they were leaving more than just a city here. In the underground, she had left her fear. She didn't know if she could get it back, but she knew she didn't want to. Jack sat beside her, clutching the artifact in his hands. He was silent, but she felt his presence—like warmth that keeps you from freezing. "We'll make it," she said. "Yes," he replied. "We'll make it." The van sped along Scottish roads, and beyond the windows flashed gray fields, heather-covered hills, and scattered flocks of sheep. The sky was low, cloudy, but somewhere in the west a ray of light broke through—thin as a blade. They were driving home. To the final battle.