As they approached the church, they found it locked. They walked around the building in search of another entrance and found a small colonnade behind it. Where they cast shadows on the flower-lined path, stood a lone monk. His hood was pulled down over his face, and he seemed absorbed in prayer. Eva approached hesitantly and greeted him in the manner customary on the Cloud Islands: she placed a hand on her wristwatch and said, ‘One of those.’ The monk raised his head, nodded, and completed the greeting: ‘Will be yours as well.’ ‘You’re not part of the silent brotherhood?’ she asked in astonishment, since he had answered her with words. ‘Not yet,’ the other replied, ‘I’m a novice. My vows are just around the corner. How can I help?’ ‘We’re looking for the entrance to the chapel,’ explained Eva, ‘but it’s locked.’ ‘What do you want there?’ ‘We…’ ‘My great-great-great-grandfather is buried there,’ Nora jumped to her aid. ‘I only recently found out about him through genealogy and now I wanted to visit his grave.’ ‘In that case,’ said the monk, ‘come with me.’
He led them to the entrance and opened the door with a rusty key that he carried on a large ring. Inside the chapel, it was cool and the smell of old stone and incense hung in the air. The walls were covered with faded frescoes and in the middle of the room stood an altar-like table made of dark wood, covered with burnt candles and dried flowers.
‘I’ll leave you now,’ the monk said with a formal nod, “May the peace of the place bring you peace. Let me know when you leave, so I can lock up again.” With these words, he disappeared through the door and left the group in the twilight of the chapel. As soon as he had left, Eva, Nora and Finn began to search the room, their footsteps echoing hollowly in the wide, empty chapel. Eva’s gaze slid over the old paintings and the simple cross hanging on the wall, but none of it seemed to be connected to the saying they had read on the map.
‘Guys, come here!’ From a dark corner, Nora called them over. When Finn and Eva came to her, she pointed with pride to a small doorframe built into the wall: ‘Behold: a gateway!’ ‘What a load of nonsense,’ Finn snorted contemptuously, but Eva stopped short. ‘Wait a minute,’ she said, running her hand over the stone. On the left side, there was a moon engraved, while on the right side, there was a radiant sun. ‘Look at that,’ Eva murmured and stepped closer, running her finger over the engravings. ‘Sun and moon. Two opposites that belong together…’ ‘The sun rises in the east,’ Nora interjected, ‘that makes sense.’ ‘It could also be the equivalent of the saying on the card,’ Eva replied: “Death is the gateway to life.” Nora’s cheeks turned red with excitement. ’Oh, I love something like that. Do you think we have to operate some kind of mechanism to open the door?’
‘Yes,’ Finn said dryly, opening it without further ado, ‘namely the secret mechanism known as a door handle.’ Nora was unable to reply, as what lay before them captivated her. A narrow staircase led into an uncertain darkness. Without further ado, Eva grabbed a candle from a nearby shelf and lit it. ‘Come on, guys, what are we waiting for?’ Finn did the same, but Nora hesitated. ‘I don’t really want to go down there,’ she said. ‘Hm,’ replied Eva, ‘if you don’t want to, you don’t have to. You can stay here and make sure that no one locks the door behind us.’
So Eva and Finn set off without their friend. The stairs were narrow and steep, some parts were covered with old cobwebs, and Eva, who was leading the way, felt an uncomfortable tingling sensation down her spine despite her curiosity. ‘Aren’t you a bit spooked too?’ she asked over her shoulder. ‘No,’ came the curt reply. ‘And why not? There are graves everywhere down here.‘ “The dead are dead. It’s the living you have to fear.” This statement did very little to ease her anxiety, but Eva tried to distract herself with pleasant thoughts – she thought of flying, of Greybeard and his cosy kitchen, of the feeling of lying in a warm bathtub and of her parents, whose secret she was now getting closer to – hopefully.
The stairs ended abruptly and a room with columns and a flat ceiling opened up in front of them. Torches were affixed here and there, which Eva lit with her candle – and regretted for a brief moment the ability to see more. The walls were clad in bones: skulls, legs, vertebrae and fingers were arranged in almost artistic patterns. In some places, niches had been carved out and closed with stone slabs. One of them had an engraving. ‘This is the tomb of the Fratres Caelestis,’ he explained to Eva after reading it. ‘I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do now.’ ‘Let’s think about it,‘ Eva hastened to say. “The inscription on the map read, ”Death is the gateway to life.’’ “Maybe something is hidden in one of the graves.” “Probably more bones,” Finn said gloomily. “Come on, let’s go over the inscriptions,” she encouraged him. ’We’ll find the connection somehow.’
There were a great many niches in the hidden burial chamber, and since Finn was clearly the better translator, it took them a good half hour to collect all the carved words. They were mostly the names of past abbots and high priests who had been granted a special burial. Eva was about to give up hope when Finn called her over. He pointed to one of the plates. ‘Lucius Stellaris,’ Eva read. ‘So what?’ ‘Another dead priest. What does that get us?’ ‘Not just any priest,’ Finn replied. ‘At the top of the gate, there were sun and moon – and what’s missing?’ ‘The stars,’ Eva answered without hesitation. ‘Lucius Stellaris – light of the stars,’ Finn explained. ‘It doesn’t get much more obvious than that.’ Eva’s heart was pounding with excitement as she carefully pressed against the stone slab. It creaked, but then it gave way. Finn illuminated the space inside, and both breathed a sigh of relief. There was no skeleton inside, just a bottle with a rolled-up piece of parchment.
When they were back at the surface with Nora – they had hurried to leave the eerie place as quickly as possible – Eva placed the narrow sheet of parchment next to her map. It seemed to be an addition, because one of the golden lines that went beyond the edge and which they had assumed was just the cartographer’s artistic flourish, was now continued. ‘But that’s Windhold,’ said Nora, tapping the end of the golden line with her finger.