The girl who chased the moon

Chapter 4

Once home, we joined Lydia in the parlor, and began to discuss any information from the ball. 

"Any leads?" I asked, twisting the material of the dress between my fingers anxiously. 

Carlisle sipped at his glass of wine and said, "yes"

I looked at him and he continued, "I met some witches, that have heard rumours, but nothing definitive" 

"Rumors?"

"They say the diamond was last in possession of a slayer"

I sucked in a lungful of air, "Name?" I asked.

"Unknown, but that possession was over 300 years ago, and the record was lost" explained Carlisle.

"They keep a record of who had it?" I frowned, it seemed very odd.

"Well, as much as you can, it's not in the hall of scriptures or anything, but it is noted down"

"Can we get access to it?" I pressed, suddenly extremely curious. If we knew the diamonds past, perhaps we could predict it's future. "I suppose so, there are several copies, one is here"

"Really?" I could not hide my surprise, "where?"

"Notre Dame" said Lydia chillingly. I did not like the way she said it, like there was something deeply wrong. 

"Excellent, we can go tomorrow" I said, clapping my hands together loudly. The sound echoed around the room, and both the vampires looked away nervously, but Carlisle held my eye. "Beatrice, the record is in the catacombs"

I gripped the side of the chair, my head spinning, of course the damned thing would be in the catacombs! 

The catacombs of Notre Dame were cursed. It was said to be haunted by the malevolent spirit of Cecelia Rencorte; a witch of noble blood, who had been purged during the witch trials of the 1600s, and thanks to the wealth of her family, buried in the catacombs in the hope her soul would ascend to heaven. Only, it hadn't. Or so legend said. 

Her spirit lived in the catacombs, and information from sources said she did not like her resting place disturbed, more importantly, nothing could be removed. The spectre was apparently very territorial over that sort of thing. It would be my damned luck! I thought furiously.

 I sighed, and then said, "well then, we best be prepared to face an angry ghost"

****

The sun was concealed by a thick blanket of grey clouds the next day. Brendan and Lydia had wanted to come, but Carlisle and I pursued them it would be safer during the day, because most night creatures slept then. There was barely a breath of wind, only a soft breeze that  rustled leaves and disturbed dust, but nothing more. 

Nortre Dame stood tall against the skyline, the high steeples pointed as if the touch the heavens. Going through the entrance with numerous other visitors, we hastily made our way past them, pushing our way through the sparsely clustered groups that spanned across the corridors. Carlisle seemed to know his way, and led us down a narrow flight of stairs before coming to an iron grate.

Placing a hand on each side of the circle, he muttered something and it sprung off the stone floor, popping till it was at the side. Lighting torches on the wall, I unhooked them and handed him one, listening carefully as he descended the tiny ladder steps, once he was at the bottom, I followed, holding my torch lightly. 

Within the catacombs, it was cold and dark. But also quiet. The noise from the world above dared not breach that place, and the smell of death and decay hung heavily in the air.  I shuddered, feeling the sudden change in temperature, my breath freezing as it left my lips. "Beatrice" sang a twisted voice. I froze, "Did you hear that?"