The Source - Michael Cordy [90]
'Where can I get a large enough one? From the bottom of the lake?'
'No. Those are smaller than they look. Something to do with the magnifying effect of all that water.' She reached into the stream again and picked up a large shard, which had broken off from the lattice of crystal encrusting the tunnel. She handed it to him.
He looked at it, mesmerized. It was beautiful, part opaque, part clear, and glowed as he turned it in his hand. He imagined he could feel its power. 'You're sure this will cure Lauren?'
She hesitated for the briefest moment, glanced up the tunnel, then said, 'Yes. So long as you keep it whole until you need to use it, it should retain much of its potency.'
'I'd love to analyse it.'
She smiled guiltily. 'Though my main concern is to fulfil my vow, a few years ago I had a sample analysed blind by a lab in Geneva. I was desperate to be relieved of my responsibility. I wanted them to synthesize it, take the pressure off the garden – and off me.'
'What did they find?'
'The laboratory report claimed it was unusually, but not dangerously, radioactive and contained every key amino acid building block necessary for life – including phosphorus, which was relatively rare. But they found nothing else unusual, certainly no hint of its ability to heal. They replicated it exactly, creating an identical clone of its constituent ingredients, but it had none of the original's power. Whatever spark makes the combined constituent parts heal in the way you've all experienced is beyond their instruments.' She pointed at the crystal in Ross's hand. 'But that should work. Take it home, grind up a good quantity, mix it into a drink and feed it to Lauren. I like it in tea with condensed milk.' She smiled. 'But I have a sweet tooth.'
'You've used this stuff?'
She clutched her crucifix. 'It's been my lifeline. How do you think I've maintained my vigil for so long? So very long.'
Now, looking into her eyes, unguarded for the first time since they'd met, he saw her pain and loneliness laid bare. Suddenly he understood the depth of her dedication to the garden, and the extent of her sacrifice. A tremor ran through him. 'There haven't been any other Keepers before you, have there?' he said.
'No. Only me. I was the novice nun who cared for Orlando Falcon. I was the accomplice who hid his Devil's book. It was I he charged with reclaiming his possessions, including his notebook, and protecting his garden.'
'But why?'
'Why?'
'Why did you help him? Why did you make your vow?'
'Because I fell in love with him. I loved him more than the Church. I loved him more than life.' A small shake of the head. 'I loved him more than the release of death. When he made me vow to protect his garden until someone deciphered his manuscript and proved themselves worthy to take over his legacy, I had no idea how long I would have to wait.' She patted the crucifix. 'He gave me this cross and told me that whenever my burden seemed too great I would always find salvation in it.' She paused, as if lost in thought. 'Before they burnt him at the stake he also made a vow to me.'
'What was it?'
'That he would wait for me.' A small smile played on her lips.
'He said, "For you I will wait for ever." ' She pointed out to the garden, to the mound of stones. 'His remains are buried there. I brought his ashes from Rome. One day, soon, I hope, our waiting will be over and we will be reunited.'
'You were there when he died?'
She looked away. 'I watched.'
He studied her once beautiful face. 'You've lived for more than four and a half centuries?'
'I've existed for that long, yes. It hasn't always felt like living.'
'But that's impossible!' he gasped.
She laughed. It was a humourless sound. 'Feel your