Damoren (34 page)

Anya flipped it in her fingers to look at it.
“I think it really captures Feinluna’s memory, don’t you?” She let it fall, settling between her breasts.

Luiza gave a puzzled expression, then her eyes widened in horror.
She looked at Anya, then to Matt.

Matt bit his lip and looked away, unable to look at her.
He felt ill, his guts boiling and churning.

“
Thank you, Matt,” Anya said, her overly sweet voice tinged with razors. “I’ll cherish it.”

“
Oh, Anya, stop it,” the man said. “You’re embarrassing him.”

“
And who are you?” Matt asked, looking up. “Agostino, is it?”

The man smiled, displaying a mouth of very large, very white teeth.
“Very good, Mister Hollis. Agostino Molinelli, High Priest of Tiamat, descendent of Marco Barugnani.”

“
So, Agostino,” Matt said, “when can we have some water? Or even a toilet?”

Agostino regarded him.
“And did any of the angels you slaughtered get a last request?”

“
Angels? They’re monsters.”

“
They are divine beings greater than ourselves. They are to be honored.”

“
They kill people,” Matt said, his face growing hot. “They enslave them.”

“
And you kill animals,” the Agostino said. “You wear them. Eat their flesh. Does that make you a monster?”

A hot spike of rage erupted in Matt
’s throat. “That’s different,” he managed.

Agostino gave a slight shrug.
“It is because, unlike the others, you, Mister Hollis, are a monster. You, who exploit the power of their blessing, and then destroy them so that no other can savor it.” He nodded to the others. “They are ignorant, afraid of what they can’t understand. You know that power and still you murder your kind.”

The spike grew.
Matt clenched his fists, pulling against the cuffs until his wrists felt as if they might snap.

“
Your death will be celebrated above all the others. Tomorrow night Anya, our most honored sister, shall become the vessel in which Tiamat reawakens, and once she has become flesh, we will offer her you, the murderers of her children.”

“
And what about you?” Matt asked. “What do you think will happen to you when you unleash this monster?”

“
I will serve her as she wishes,” he said proudly.

“
She’ll kill you,” Matt said, meeting the zealot’s gaze. “And kill everyone you love.”

“
If that is her wish,” Agostino said calmly. “Then who am I to question it?”

#

Matt’s stomach gurgled hungrily. He sat near the cell door, watching workers position a large metal fire pit. A trio of men armed with sledges pounded a black iron spike into the ground. A giant ring of spikes, their heads protruding about six inches high, dominated one half of the paved courtyard. After hours of lying uncomfortably on the stone floor, his hands behind him, Matt had finally managed to fall asleep until the clangs of hammers woke him. Now he sat as a condemned man in some Western movie, watching his gallows’ construction as the clock ticked away.

More followers appeared throughout the day, talking and laughing as the workers finished setting up the courtyard. Many glanced at the prisoners, locked behind the iron cage, some pointed, joking and laughing with their compatriots, though none approached. Long burgundy banners, adorned with the winged serpent, hung from the walls, rippling in the breeze. The smell of food wafted down from the villa
’s open doors. Matt’s stomach ached as he caught the aroma of grilled meat.

“
Christ,” Allan groaned, wrinkling his nose. “I don’t want to smell that. It smells so damned good.”

Matt nodded, his dry mouth suddenly wet with hunger.
“Probably tastes like crap. No garlic, salt, rosemary.” He grinned weakly. “Lot of food allergies with this crowd.”

“
Quiet,” Luc growled. “Don’t talk about food.”

The others nodded in agreement, their pained expressions angry.

Matt swallowed, exchanging an apologetic look with Allan, then closed his eyes, trying to force away the hunger.

A soft shuffle and rattle of handcuffs behind him.
Luiza scooted up to his side. His lips tightened. They hadn’t spoken since Anya’s gloating visit. He’d never wanted company less.

Clearing his throat, Allan made a sadly unsubtle exit as he inched to where Luc and Malcolm whispered just a few feet away.

“How are you doing?” she asked.

Matt
suppressed a snort.
How do you think I’m doing?
He pushed it away. She didn’t deserve that. “I could really go for that hotel buffet right now.”

“
Me, too. I wonder how the people in the bus are doing?”

“
I saw them carrying food out for them this morning,” Matt said. “Big cooler of water. They probably have no idea what’s in store for them.”

She didn
’t say anything for a long time. Finally, “Matt...the necklace Anya had.”

Matt
’s chest tightened. It was hard to breathe.

“
What was that? Why did she thank you for it?”

He licked his dry lips, trying to find the words.
“When we went back to the mine, and you were so broken up over losing her, I found a piece of Feinluna’s blade. I kept it. I don’t know why. I just wanted to do something with it to help you...honor her.” He stared out across the yard, not really watching as workers started another spike. “Our second day in Florence I found one of the goldsmiths on the Ponte Vecchio to make it into a pendant. That’s where I went yesterday morning, to pick it up. I planned to give it to you, but then we saw the news reports and Luc called about the symbol. I never got a chance.” He shook his head, then turned to her.

Tears framed Luiza
’s dark eyes.

“
It was still in my pocket when Mal and I got captured. They must have found it. I...” He drew a breath. “I just wanted to give you something. It was stupid. I’m sorry.”

Matt watched horrified as a tear ran down Luiza cheek.
He’d never wanted this. He’d hurt her. With everything they now faced, torture, execution, Dämoren’s destruction, in that moment, seeing that tear, the pain he had caused her, was the worst of them all.

“
You made that?” She sniffed. “For me?”

Matt nodded shamefully.
He was suddenly aware everyone was quietly watching him. “I don’t know what I was thinking, I—”

“
Thank you.”

He froze.
“What?”

Luiza swallowed.
She tried to wipe her eye on her shoulder. “Thank you.”

Matt smiled, his guilt melting away.
“I’m sorry I didn’t give it to you in time.”

#

Night finally came, slow and inevitable. Scant clouds hurried across the starry skies. Matt couldn’t see the moon from the doorway, but its silvery light shined over the yard. The chattering crowd had all gone inside before dark, leaving only their guard outside. He sat in a folding chair several feet away watching them, his shotgun resting in his lap.

One of the far doors opened, spilling a wedge of light across the grounds.
Five robed figures stepped out, their faces hidden under pointed hoods. They each turned toward the copper disk mounted high on the building’s wall and touched their foreheads. One of them broke off from the group and crossed the yard toward the cell.

The guard straightened as the figure approached.

“
I’ll take over,” it said in a feminine voice. “Go get ready.”

The guard rose, handed the hooded woman his gun, and a small ring of keys,
and then hurried away.

The woman slipped the keys into a slit-like pocket.
She stood, ignoring the metal chair, her eyes hidden beneath the dark round holes in her hood. The brass pendant of Tiamat glinted on her chest.

Matt watched as the other cultists lit the four caged fire pits
through the courtyard, casting long shadows across the ground. Once finished, the figures brought out a large bell suspended inside a metal frame and set it on the far side of the ring. More arrived, carrying a round-bottomed drum.

A growing dread spread amongst the hunters as they quietly watched the robed cultists prepare.
Once finished, they each turned back to the great disk, now cast in the flickering orange glow, touched their foreheads and retreated back into the castle. Two remained. One beside the bell, the other behind the drum.

“
If one of you has a plan,” Allan said, his voice low, “now’s the time.”

The cultist beside the bell raised a short mallet and struck it.
The sharp tone echoed off the walls. Before it faded out, the other hooded cultist hit the drum.

The castle
’s double doors opened and a line of robed and hooded people slowly walked out. The one in the front carried a metal censer, hanging by a long chain. Trails of gray smoke wafted out as it swung with each step. Burgundy fringe tinged with gold, trimmed the second figure. It carried a twisted staff.

Agostino,
Matt guessed.

Slowly the procession descended the stone steps, the drum thumping every third second.
Four of them carried poles supporting a stout pedestal topped with a v-shaped anvil. Behind them, two more robed cultists carried a long plank, wide as a door, and shrouded beneath a red cloth. After the line of nearly forty hooded figures, a procession of demons marched slowly out behind them.

“
Jesus,” Matt muttered as eight werewolves strode out behind a rank of pale vampires. The dread only grew seeing two nude succubi, a muscled incubus, rakshasas, a lamia, two ifrit, a crimson strutter, a pack of ghouls, three wendigo, a horned frog-like beast with golden skin, a pair of giant black dogs with eyes glowing like embers and, finally, a pair of towering one-horned oni. The last one, a female with bulbous saggy tits, carried a wedge-shaped maul.

Nowhere in any of the histories Matt had read was there ever an army as this.
Forty-one demons. What had they been thinking to even pretend they could actually fight that many?

The procession circled the ring of spikes twice until finally stopping around it.
Matt squinted, straining to see through the ranks.

“
Tonight,” Agostino’s voice boomed. “The Great Mother returns to us.”

“
Hail the Great Mother,
” the congregation said in unison. “
Hail Tiamat.
”

“
What are they saying, Matt,” Allan whispered.

Matt hadn
’t even noticed that he didn’t recognize the language.

“
Long has she slumbered,” Agostino said, Matt translating it the best he could. “Fleshless, hungry, waiting for us, her devoted children, to awaken her and make her whole.”

“
Hail the Great Mother. Hail Tiamat.
”

“
Tonight, beneath the blood moon, we call her forth by her true name, and offer her flesh worthy of her glory.”

“
Hail the Great Mother. Hail Tiamat, Icthwyn the Undying Goddess.
”

Icthwyn?
Matt thought. The name was familiar somehow. A silhouette in the mist, like from a dream he couldn’t quite remember after waking.

The bell rang five times
and the circle peeled back, opening at one side. Matt spied Agostino standing within the half ring, his scepter high.

Matt recognized the heavy creak of the courtyard
’s outer door. The low sounds of whimpers and shuffling feet came through, growing steadily louder.

Someone screamed.

“Oh my God! Oh my God! Oh my God!” a woman wailed.

A werewolf
’s distinct, guttural snarl erupted and the woman went silent.

“
What is it?” Luiza asked pushing her way up beside Matt to see.

“
The prisoners,” Luc muttered.

Matt
’s teeth clenched tighter as he watched a line of nude people, their faces contorted with fear as a gray, seven-foot werewolf led them into the ring of cultists and monsters. The youngest was a boy, maybe eleven, with matted curly hair. The eldest, a woman, probably in her late sixties, her plump legs purple with varicose veins.

The great doors groaned and thudded shut.
The black-robed cultists closed in on the terrified mob.

Gritting his teeth, Matt forced himself to watch the hooded figures lash the weeping and pleading prisoners to the jutting spikes.
The surrounding demons growled and laughed as they sobbed and pleaded for their lives.

We have got to get out of here!
Their guard wasn’t watching them, distracted with the unfolding ceremony. But the shotgun in her hands was still ready. Maybe when they opened the door Matt could rush her, get her gun and the keys...
And what?
Fight off over forty demons and just as many cultists with one gun, his hands bound behind his back, and no clue where Dämoren was?