The Sixth Seal

One of the large green doors opened just enough for a thin line of light to escape from within. Hannah heard the squealing of tires as if a vehicle was rounding the corner at great speed.

“Come in quickly, my child, lest you fall under the eyes of the Horsemen.”

She pulled the door open wider and squeezed through the opening. As soon as she was inside, she turned and pushed the door closed. She listened to the familiar roar of the Citroen’s engine, and waited until she was satisfied it had continued down the street before stepping away from the door.

“I’m sorry, child, but one cannot be too cautious in these troubled times. I had to be certain you weren’t one of them.”

She turned to face the Bishop. From the look on his face, she wondered whether he was entirely convinced that she wasn’t one of them now. His brows furrowed and an undeniable concern danced behind a set of gray eyes. Only a shade lighter than his well-worn cassock. He raised the candle in his hand slightly. Its warm glow fully illuminated her face.

“No need to apologize, Your Grace. I understand. Thank you for trusting me.”

“Come, we are alone here. Let us talk. He held the candle in his right hand and offered his other hand to Hannah. She accepted it.

The warmth from his hand warmed her ice-cold fingers.

He guided her through another set of doors leading into the nave. As they walked past rows of dark pews, her eyes traced the arched columns that supported the exquisite edifice. She felt small and insignificant in the vast immensity of the space. A faint glow of moonlight passed through the stained glass windows and haloed the crucifix above the altar. Even though Hannah was neither Catholic nor Christian, she knelt with the Bishop as he bowed and made the sign of the cross on his chest.

“Please sit, my child. You look weary.” He gestured toward the pew behind her.

She slid in, leaving enough room for him on the end. She glanced down the opposite end, tracing a line of escape should the need arise.

“Thank you. So I gather you’ve heard from my brother, Andrew?”

He studied her for a moment. “Yes, but only indirectly.”

“So he’s not inside the city?” She watched the Bishop as he set the candle down on the stone floor.

“I do not believe so.” He rested an arm over the back of the pew and leaned closer to her in a conspiratorial manner. “He sends word to Jacques, and Jacques usually sends one of the young boys to bring me word. The Nazi’s think they are delivering food to the church.”

She nodded. “Jacques sounds like a smart man.”

“I fear what would happen to the Resistance and the children without him.” He looked down, a slight frown beginning to form.

“Children?”

“Yes, dear. The children.” He looked up at her. “Your people...Jews...you are Jewish, aren’t you?”

She smiled to put him at ease. “Yes. I am Jewish.”

“So you have come to help us save your people? Jacques gave me no details about your visit, other than the phrase.” He furrowed his brow again. “You’re a day early.”

“Yes. I’m afraid matters were out of my control in that regard. With the curfew in effect, I had to take the opportunity when it arose.”

“No matter. We can have the children ready to go whenever you are ready.”

She shifted on the hard pew. “Your Grace, I’ll do anything I can to help, but I came here for another reason.”

“Oh?” He leaned closer.

“There is an artifact, a book of great and terrible power--”

He placed a hand on hers. “There is a book of great power here as well.” He smiled. “Don’t be afraid to call upon it.”

She shook her head. “I mean no disrespect, Your Grace, but your book was written by men who cavorted with angels before the Book of Destruction and the Council of Protectors were scattered to the corners of the Earth.”

He pulled his hand back and sat up. “I don’t think you know of what you speak. There is no greater book--”

This time she placed a hand on his. “Please, Your Grace, I did not come here to upset you, or argue over religion. All we cherish will certainly be lost if the Nazis unleash the power of the book they now hold in their possession.”

“I don’t understand.” He pulled his hand from hers.

She worried she had been too forward. The book was so much a part of her that she often forgot most of the world had no idea of its existence.

“It’s of no consequence. Please, just tell Jacques that I am in great need of his help. Whatever force he can spare. Some of us will surely die, but as you know, tomorrow is promised to no man.”

The Bishop shook his head. “I don’t know. I rely on Jacques and his men to help me with the children.”

“Arrange a meeting with Jacques for me, and I give you my word I will help you to get as many children out of the city as possible.”

He hesitated before answering. “Very well.”

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

He nodded and stood. He stooped and picked up the candle.

When they reached the doors to the outer sanctuary, he put a hand on her shoulder. “May I ask, what brought you to this place? I mean to Toulouse.”

She looked him squarely in the eyes. “The book. I am drawn to it like the moth to flame.”

He nodded. “It seems both of our books have guided us down a perilous path. Remember my child, He is always there for you.”

“Let him look after the children. I’m afraid I may be beyond redemption.”

As she walked toward the doors of the vestibule, he called to her. “It is not too late for you, Hannah. Be careful in the den of the enemy.”

“I’ll do my best. Tell Jacques to send one of his boys to give me his answer. I’m staying in the old school near the capitole building.”

She left the Bishop alone in the nave. She knew all too well what would become of humanity if the Nazis succeeded, and she knew she was one of only a handful of people who could stop them.

Hannah slid the wooden panel back to get a view of the street. Her limited view showed no signs of activity. She slid the panel back in place and opened the door just enough to squeeze through.

The night air was thick with humidity. The scent of decay rose up from the river. She kept herself close to the wall while she surveyed her path back to the bridge. A few quick strides and she would be able to take cover.

She took in a deep breath and steadied her nerves. She listened for the sound of footsteps or an approaching Citroen engine. Nothing. She sprang from her position on the wall, keeping her eyes locked on the bridge.

“Halt!”

She froze in the middle of the street, her escape route mere feet in front of her. She turned slowly and raised her arms up at her sides.

“Don’t move!”

The approaching soldier had an MP38 tucked under his arm. He wouldn’t need to be a marksman to take her out at this distance. She put her palms up, doing her best to look conciliatory.

“What’s the problem, sir?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he motioned toward the sidewalk with his gun. She walked slowly to the curb. Before she could step onto the sidewalk, the soldier grabbed her shoulder and turned her around.

“Keep still.” He let his gun hang by a shoulder strap while he patted her down. He cupped her breasts and looked her in the eyes before moving on to her waist.

“I’m not armed.”

He glared at her, but stopped his search, taking up his previous stance with gun in hand.

“What are you doing on the streets after dark? Don’t you know there is a curfew?”

“I needed some air. It’s a beautiful night. Wouldn’t you agree?”

He sneered. “Do you have papers?”

She shook her head. She had left her security badge in her room, not that it would do her much good now.

The soldier glanced back to the church. “What was your business in the church?”

“I wasn’t in the church--”

“Don’t lie. I watched you come out of the church.” He grabbed her arm and drew his hand back as if to strike her across the face.

The familiar sound of the Citroen intruded on the moment. His grip loosened and the soldier stood at attention. The big black car pulled up next to the curb. She watched as the back window rolled down, revealing the officer within. It was Lieutenant Wozniak.

“What seems to be the trouble here, soldier?” The Lieutenant’s tone was firm. His eyes caught hers.

“This woman disobeyed curfew. I caught her coming out of the church.” The soldier sounded like a proud child telling his father of a good deed.

The Lieutenant eyed her. “Is this true, Miss Klein?”

“No--”

“Excuse me, sir. You know this woman?” A little color came to his cheeks and beads of sweat broke out on his forehead. He rubbed at the back of his neck.

The Lieutenant shot the man a look. “Yes, soldier. Miss Klein is a protégé of Doctor Altman.” He turned his attention back to Hannah. “So tell me, Miss Klein, what were you doing in the church?”

She looked him in the eyes, those dark, piercing eyes. “I told you. I wasn’t in the church.”

“That’s a lie, sir. I saw her myself. Should I go question the Bishop, Lieutenant?” The soldier took a step toward the church.

“No.”

The soldier stopped and resumed his previous position. The car door opened and the Lieutenant stepped out.

“Take Miss Klein back to her apartment. I’ll deal with the Bishop personally.”

The Lieutenant held the door and ushered her inside. She glanced over at the river, but quickly thought better of any attempt at escape. At this range, they wouldn’t have any trouble cutting her down. She slid into the back seat. The Lieutenant motioned for the soldier to get in beside her.

“See that she doesn’t wander out again.”

The soldier got in the car beside her, pushing her toward the other door. The Lieutenant bent down and spoke to the driver.

“Come back for me in an hour.”

He shut the door and strode up the steps of the church. She watched him pound on the green doors as the car pulled away and headed for the bridge.

Here’s hoping your book serves you well tonight, Bishop.