London east of St. Paul’s was a vision of Hell. People fled in mass confusion and panic as buildings collapsed. Fires raged everywhere as gas lines burst. Ashes drifted in the air like a snowy day in December.
As Simon and his team rounded onto Walbrook Street, where Jane had indicated Gaios would be, they came upon an incredible massive structure of glistening black obsidian. It was long and rectangular, with columns lining the sides. It was a classical Roman temple, but on a gargantuan scale. The long peaked roof dwarfed St. Paul’s dome in the distance. The huge edifice steamed as if the black stone was newly formed and the earth around it was wet and warm, the loamy scent of it filling the air.
“Well, this is new,” Nick commented.
Kate stared up with awe on her face. “Gaios created his own temple.”
“Just in time to have his new Vesuvius destroy it.” Simon was grim.
“If he’s in there, how do we get him?” Malcolm demanded.
Simon pointed to a huge ebony door set in the front of the structure, large enough to allow several carriages to ride inside. To their surprise it opened. A wave of insufferable heat hit them. They could feel it even through the fire-retardant gel slathered on their skin.
“That doesn’t smell of a trap,” mumbled Malcolm, but still he led them to the door of the temple of Gaios.
The interior was a single vast gallery. They passed along the nave, which was divided from raised aisles by sleeper-walls, each of which carried glistening columns. The constellations of the night sky crawled across the ceiling as if they were journeying across the heavens.
As they moved inside, it was clear the temple was still forming and reshaping around them. Walls and floors shifted before their eyes with hypnotic effect. Stalagmites rose in groups and fused into single broad columns. The interior was illuminated not by torches or candles but by a river of lava glowing between the cracks in the floor. At the distant end of the temple, a cascade of magma passed under a raised platform and disappeared into a black cave hewn from solid rock. From its depths could be heard the crackling and shifting of the earth.
Simon couldn’t help but recall a line from Shakespeare. “Devouring Time, blunt thou the lion’s paws, and make the earth devour her own sweet brood.”
“Please tell me we’re not going down into the pit,” Nick said, but despite his hesitation, his hands were already aflame.
“Of course we are.” Simon inclined his head and they continued forward. He noticed that Imogen paused with a look of fear at the dim cavern, falling to the rear of the group.
The shadows of the dark hole behind the dais shifted. From out of the subterranean depths stepped Baroness Conrad. Her torso was encased by a steel-lined corset and chain mail. An elaborate mechanical helmet with goggles that glowed like enormous inhuman red eyes covered her head and face. One goggle eye had the audacity to have crosshairs over it. The helmet covered her facial expressions, but her walk was a nearly bawdy strut, grotesque in its execution.
“How fortunate,” the Baroness’s voice projected from her helmet, “that you’ve come. Now we won’t have to seek you out to ensure you’ve been extinguished. I look forward to remaking you in the future.” She nodded toward Simon. “Particularly you.”
At her side was another of her silverbacked apes. She had a hand on its hip. This beast was no less massive in size than the previous gorillas, but now it was entirely covered in armor with a coppery sheen that gave it the look of a horrific bronze statue. Thin seams in the plate showed that it was still mostly flesh and blood underneath. Like its mistress, smoke and steam wafted out of numerous orifices as machined parts moved and shifted. The Baroness had learned, and adjusted her arsenal because of it. She boldly approached with her arm raised, preparing to make some further pronouncement of villainy.
Simon cast a sharp glance over at Malcolm. “Take her.”
Malcolm nodded. His Lancasters rose and the barrels spun furiously, spitting bullet after bullet at the Baroness, interrupting her speech. Penny’s blunderbuss flipped to her shoulder and the startled Baroness barely avoided the canister by ducking behind one of the columns.