Darwin counted paces and at a thousand noticed more strain in his thighs from the increasing slope. Another 450 paces and a clear edge distinguished the tube wall, exposing a dark void beyond.

​

“Do you see it?” Eyrún asked. They had walked side by side once Darwin had crawled through the wall.

​

“Yes, be careful. Agrippa wrote of a drop-off.”

​

They reached the opening two minutes later and stopped. The floor fell away into a vast circular depression, its salmon-red surface full of cracks like a dry lakebed. The ceiling domed four stories overhead, and directly across the chamber, half a football pitch away, another lava tube opened. Looking around to their right, they saw two other tubes that spilled into the space.

​

“Look…” Eyrún said in wonder, her voice trailing off as she tugged Darwin’s sleeve. He turned left to where she was staring.

​

A broad platform extended five meters into the chamber from its edge, stepping down twice to compensate for the sloping floor. But, what took Eyrún’s breath away was a massive wooden door in the middle of the platform. Enormous iron hinges held the door in a frame constructed of basalt blocks. The rock surrounding the portal had been carved in a bas-relief into the chamber’s ceiling.

​

“That’s definitely not Roman,” said Darwin.

​

“These aren’t either,” said Eyrún, walking down four steps cut in the lava tube’s edge. She turned and shined her light over them. “These were cut in. The real edge would have been about here.” She held a hand at chest height and about the same distance from where Darwin stood on the tube floor.

​

He stepped down to join her, and they walked across the bowled floor and stepped onto the platform. Beneath a massive lintel, the door was as wide as Darwin’s outstretched arms and rose about half again his height.

​

“The hinges are as big as my arms.” He held out one arm. 

​

“Zac’s arms, maybe. These things are huge.”

​

The Templars built the door into the lava tube opening with the same basalt blocks as the other walls. Three rows of figures carved in the gothic cathedrals’ style ascended each side of the portal and peaked above the door. A single basalt slab formed a lintel and, above it, sat a figure of Jesus Christ, wearing a long-rayed crown covered in gold leaf. In the darkened lava chamber, this bright spot drew one’s eye like an oasis in the desert.

​

“I am the door…” Darwin’s voice faded into mystery.

​

“What?”

​

“It’s a literal depiction of a Christian gospel where Jesus Christ told people he was the gateway to being saved. You’re right, I’m sure its modeled after the central portal of Notre-Dame de Paris. See, that’s him.” He pointed at the carving above the lintel.

​

On each side of the portal, thin pillars supported three half-height people in full Knights Templar armor. Atop the knights, three rows of smaller figures curved upward and outward, following the chamber’s ceiling. “That’s eerie,” she said, standing within arm’s reach of the door and seeing the top figures meet directly over her head.

​

“Yes, they’re classic gothic archivolts, but unique because of the rotunda-like nature of this place. Someone went to great expense to make this.”

​

“Could these be important Templars?” she asked, running fingers lightly over the carvings

“If not, I’ve no clue who they are,” he said, squatting to study the door lock. A four-hand-sized iron plate was affixed to the door’s right side, opposite the hinges. Just above a single thumb-sized keyhole, the constructors stamped the metal with two helmeted knights on a single horse surrounded by text: SIGILLUM MILITUM 1292.

​

“What’s it say?” she asked.

​

“‘Seal of the Soldiers’ and twelve ninety-two. A date? Dunno what else it could be.”

​

“Where’s the key?” she asked.

​

“That’s the question of the day. Unbelievable. What did de Mornay expect us to do?” Darwin stood, one hand against the door, hung his head, and sighed. “This is fantastic. But I can’t believe we’re supposed to break it down.”