Rolling to her feet, Annja avoided one man's outstretched arms, then popped up with a forearm that caught him under the jawline. He flew back against the stone wall and collapsed.

The third man drew a long knife and sprang at her. Annja fisted his robe and fell backward, planting a foot into his stomach and tossing him back into the center of the mausoleum.

Rolling to her feet again, Annja saw Roux shove Avery Moreau out into the hallway, then bend down to slide a pistol from one of the monk's robes. After he tossed the weapon to Annja, he took another pistol and an assault rifle for himself. He palmed as many magazines as he could find for the weapons and shoved them into his pockets.

Annja headed into the hallway as Brother Gaspar and the monks fled their positions and flooded toward them. Bullets slapped the cave walls and ricocheted overhead, filling the air like an angry swarm of bees.

Roux knelt like a seasoned infantryman and aimed his assault rifle low. He fired mercilessly. Bullets chopped into the wave of fleeing monks, turning the middle of the mausoleum into a deadly no-man's-land. As flashlights and lanterns hit the ground, the illumination was extinguished and the room turned dark.

Peering around the corner of the doorway, Annja spotted Lesauvage and his men racing into the mausoleum. Most of the monks were down. Brother Gaspar lay draped over one of the stone coffins, dead or dying.

Lesauvage laughed like a madman and strode through the large room as if he were invincible. Bullets had smashed two of the coffins open and the withered bodies inside had spilled onto the bloodstained floor.

Roux withdrew. He released the magazine from the assault rifle and shoved another one into place.

"Go," he told Annja. "We can't stay here."

Annja turned. She realized then that she'd left her candle lantern on one of the coffins. Thankfully the hallway was lit. She held the pistol in her left hand and the sword in her right. She pushed her left hand against the small of Avery Moreau's back, urging him into motion.

"Run," she said. "As fast as you can."

The young man ran and Annja passed him, taking the lead. The hallway twisted and turned. She tried to keep a mental map going in her mind but quickly grew uncertain.

The footfalls of Lesauvage and his men thundered through the cave tunnels in pursuit.

The drug cocktail blazed hotly within Corvin Lesauvage. He strode through the mausoleum and looked at the dead monks lying around the cave.

A few of his men were down, as well. Two of them were dead. Another sat holding an arm across his midsection trying to keep his intestines from spilling out.

"Damn!" the young man said. "Look at this!" He gazed at his bloody guts shifting inside his embrace. "This can't be all me!" He threw his head back and howled with laughter, as if it were the funniest thing he'd ever seen. "Somebody help me!"

Lesauvage walked over to the man and gazed down at him coldly. "You're dying," he said.

"I know!" The man laughed again, but tears skidded down his face.

Taking deliberate aim, Lesauvage squeezed the trigger and put a round into the man's mouth. It took him nearly a minute to wheeze and choke to death on his blood. The death wasn't as merciful as Lesauvage had intended.

Still, it was finished.

"What did you do?" another man asked.

"He was dying," Lesauvage explained.

Several of the men were in the process of tearing open the stone coffins. Corpses littered the mausoleum.

Lesauvage fired a round into the ceiling. The detonation drew everyone's attention.

"They were monks!" Lesauvage roared. "They won't be buried with anything worth the time it takes to bust open those coffins!" He waved his pistol. "Find the woman! We don't need a witness to talk about what we've done here!"

Howling with gleeful anticipation, the Wild Hunt once more took up the chase, pounding through the doorway where Annja Creed had fled.

Chapter 31

ANNJA'S BREATH TORE hotly through her lungs as she ran up the next flight of stairs. Halting at the top of the stairs, she took up a position by the opening, listened intently for a moment, then realized she couldn't hear anything over the sounds of the Wild Hunt closing in on them.

She whirled around the opening and dropped the pistol out before her. She held her sword arm braced under her gun wrist.

The next cave was a library. Books lined handmade shelves mixed with plastic modular shelves. Furniture consisted of large pillows and tent chairs. Candelabras heavy with partially burned candles and bowls of wax occupied tables in the cave.

Life as a monk of the Brotherhood of the Silent Rain hadn't been easy.

Curiosity pulled at Annja's attention. She couldn't help wondering what kind of books were on those shelves. Copies of books from around the world wouldn't have interested her as much as personal journals and collections of observations during the past few hundred years.

"Annja."

Roux's voice drew her from her reverie. She glanced behind her and found that Avery and Roux hadn't joined her. Turning back to the stairway carved in the sloping tunnel floor, she looked down and saw them huddled on the last landing. Men's laughter and threats cascaded around them like breakers from an approaching storm front.

"I can't… do it," Avery wheezed, shaking his head. He doubled over and retched. "I can't… breathe… can't run… no more."

Roux didn't look very good, either, but he was still moving.

"If you stay here, boy," the old man said. "They'll kill you."

"I… can't!" Avery doubled over and retched again.

The voices grew louder.

Running down the steps, Annja shoved the pistol into her waistband at her back, then grabbed Avery and threw him across her shoulders in a fireman's carry. She'd thought she'd barely be able to move with the extra weight. Instead, Avery felt light as a child.

"You can't carry him," Roux objected.

"I can't leavehim," Annja responded. Holding her free arm over his arm and leg, she started up the steps. She expected her body to protest. Instead, it seemed to welcome the challenge.

She turned the corner at the library, then rushed through the doorway on the other side. Another flight of steps awaited her. She went up, hoping that the entrance to the monastery was in that direction.

She was just starting to breathe harder. She was surprised by the strength, stamina and speed that she had – even while carrying Avery Moreau. Where had it come from? The sword?

Or had the sword only awakened something within her?

Annja put the questions out of her mind and concentrated on escape. If she survived, maybe she could figure out what it all meant.

Like the Roman garrison cave, the entrance to the main chamber used by the Brotherhood of the Silent Rain was narrow. Once they reached it, she had to put Avery on his feet and shove him ahead of her.

A faux wall covered the opening. Latches held it in place.

Annja opened the door.

Beyond, the storm continued with renewed fury. Gray rain ghosted across the mountain in sheets as neatly as marching soldiers. Annja felt the chill of the rain even before she stepped out into it.

"Which way?" Avery asked, holding his arms across his body.

Roux played the flashlight around. The ground was stone. No path existed.

Of course there's no path, Annja thought. They'd have to be careful about their comings and goings. They couldn't afford to be seen.

"Down," Annja said.

Roux took the lead, making his way as fast as he dared. The yellow beam of the flashlight revealed the weakening batteries.