The Centaur (43 page)

Nergal stooped over him and poked at his side gingerly with one claw, prepared to run if need be. The slimy black water slid from his face and hair onto the rock and slithered away, back to the pool, as if it had a life of its own.

“Hmmm,” he commented and looked back at the ominous Ark, tapping the same claw against his sharp bottom teeth nervously. “Perhaps Enki doesn’t like being called daddy after all.” He shrugged.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

Mark Andrew pressed his hands together and concentrated all his thoughts on the mind of his son, Adalune Kadif. He could see dark water, bubbles and treacherous traps. Lemarik was swimming in the depths of the flooded palace. A very dangerous venture. Mark shouted mentally for the Djinni to come to him once more.

Lemarik was desperate to find his
beautiful son
, Omar, but the search was hopeless. He could sense nothing alive in the depths and the deeper he went, the darker and hotter the water became. His father’s voice called to him again and he turned. Omar would have to help himself. Adar needed him.

Mark dropped his hands in his lap and leaned back slightly. The water was over his lap and the Tuathan was standing in his end of the refrigerator as the ominous liquid lapped his knees. Even if Lemarik swam with all his might, he could not possibly get there in time. The water swirled about the blunt end of their ‘boat’ while debris buffeted them, spinning them around on top of the lamp post like a bizarre toy. Mark expected either the lamp post to break under their weight at any moment dumping them into the flood or to be crushed by the floating rubble. He was amazed to see the things that floated past them. Household items, furniture of all descriptions, metal tanks of all descriptions, boards, trees, teapots, mattresses, everything that could be dislodged was being washed into the Tigris River, but nothing had offered them salvation.  There were very few nautical items to be found in the desert city perched on the edge of the Tigris River.  If only something big enough and buoyant enough floated within reach, he might possibly…

“Master,” Selwig’s tone had changed. He was no longer panicked, but seemed resigned to his fate. He could not swim and he knew that, in spite of his immortality, he could be destroyed, crushed and flushed out to sea like so much flotsam and jetsam. “I have enjoyed being in your house as your servant. I hope I have served you well.”

“You haven’t finished your service yet,” Mark muttered without much conviction. When they were capsized, he intended to hold on to the healer as long as possible. He could swim fairly well; perhaps they might make it to one of the buildings and climb through a window. It was the last hope he held outside of a miracle.

“I just wanted you to know.” Selwig sat on the edge of the divider between the freezer section and the cooler portion.

Mark stuffed the bag holding Louis’ blood into one of the compartments in his cargo pants. He folded down the top of the bag full of Simon’s blood and slipped a rubber band around it before putting it inside his shirt. He took off his boots and advised Selwig to do the same. The Tuathan followed the instructions half-heartedly as the water encroached on the sides of the refrigerator. It would only be a matter of minutes and their container would be completely under water.

The Knight got up shakily and hefted the healer onto his back.

“Now when we go, hold on and don’t let go, but don’t choke me.”

Selwig nodded and closed his eyes as the refrigerator shifted under them. It was going. Something had finally taken out the lamp post underneath them. Most likely a car or truck drifting along the flooded street below them. With a final lurch, they were in the water. Selwig clung to Mark’s shoulders as he tried to get his bearings. They went under twice and then came up near a cardboard box filled with clear plastic bags full of what appeared to be egg noodles. Mark grabbed at the box and it disintegrated. Noodles floated out in all directions then turned with the flow and headed for the river.

The current caught them and carried them along at a surprising speed. The depth and
breath of the water belied the rapidity of the current. Most of the smaller debris had disappeared and there were very few things left to hold on to. Mark maneuvered as best he could toward a tall brown building where the water had broken through one corner window and flowed out another back into the street. If he could get inside, he might be able to hold on long enough to get out of the pull of the current.

Selwig saw the building looming rapidly and began to shriek. Mark caught at the window frame as they flashed inside the building and felt the broken glass cut deep into his hands. The current was too strong and they were soon back in the current. He held up one hand and then the other. It was worse than it felt. Blood spurted from the artery in his thumb and poured from a slash on his wrist. He would bleed to death in a matter of minutes and there was nothing he could do about it. He fought the flood as best he could, fending off a heavy piece of tarp or plastic threatening to entangle them in its deadly folds, and then he felt his mind drifting
along with his body as if the two were somehow disconnected. He heard the healer shouting his name, and saw the light of the stars and moon grow dimmer and dimmer as his eyesight failed. One last breath and the water covered his head.

Selwig struggled to keep Mark’s head above water, but it was impossible. The Knight floated face down and the healer could only keep himself alive by clinging to Mark’s belt and the yellow bag hooked over his shoulder. They were flung hopelessly hither and thither as the water worked its way toward the river. The Tuathan brushed his hair from his eyes and blinked desperately. He could see nothing. Even the moonlight had disappeared, and it seemed they were in a dark tunnel, then he felt himself yanked violently from the water into the air. He screamed as Mark’s belt slipped from his grasp.

The head of the purple dolphin broke the surface of the dark water just in time to see the tremendous dark shape disappearing behind the buildings lining the flooded street. He dove and then came up on his tail in the water, straining to see where it had gone. Whatever it was, it had taken Adar with it. Whatever it was, he hoped it was friendly and not some new horror sent by Huber to plague them. He fell back in the water with a great splash and then swam quickly with the current, zigging and zagging through the underwater traps toward the river. He would find calm waters and get out of this horrid mess.

A trip to the Abyss was in order and he shuddered to think of it. He would need assistance to find his beautiful son, Omar.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

“I have seen it, Your Grace!”

Gambrelli sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the Pope’s footstool. He was still in a state of shock. The magick had worked. The entity that had appeared at his circle had frightened him so badly, he had soiled his robe and then thrown up his supper afterwards, but now, refreshed by a hot shower and clean suit, he still felt as if he were floating.

“But why are you sitting on the floor, my son?” The aging Pontiff asked him.

“I cannot stand, and I cannot kneel, and I am afraid to lie down. I sit on the floor to make sure it is there beneath me. I am sorry, Your Grace,” his answer was incomprehensible.

“Tell me what you have seen, Paolo.” The Pope edged forward on the chair and pulled his nightshirt about his knobby knees in the chill of the late night hour. It was plain to see the Cardinal had experienced something very unusual, profound, perhaps even miraculous.

“I saw a grand stairwell to Heaven, Your Eminence, and upon it, descending and ascending were angels of surpassing beauty. It was… it was… words cannot sufficiently describe the resplendent glory. I saw the figure of a man sitting on a throne, and his countenance was of purest light, like that of the sun on a summer’s day. And the voices…” his own voice trailed off as if he was again hearing the angels sing.

“Go on, my son,” the Pontiff urged him.

“The voices were like all the choirs of the world combined in one great voice, glorifying our Father. I have seen Heaven, Your Grace, and lived to tell of it.” The Cardinal locked eyes with the Holy Father.

“But I thought you were seeking the Ark. What of that? Did you see the Ark? Is it in Heaven then?”

“I did not see the Ark, but I saw a vast rocky mountain and upon it a shrine, dark and foreboding and the messenger told me the Ark was there. It is in the mountains in the Negev in Israel. They must have hidden it in the structure built on the mountain. We can get there. I have it here…” he tapped the side of his head “in my brain. I can lead the army to the Ark, Your Grace. You have but to give the word.”

“But what of the vision of Heaven? What did the angels say to you? Did they give you no message?” John Paul was disappointed.

“They said nothing to me in particular, but I think it was a sign that what I am doing is approved by the Most High. Why else would I see the Throne of God, if I am unworthy? Would not I have been shown the pits of hell?”

“You may have a point, my son,” the Pope agreed. “Good! First thing tomorrow, we will send a messenger to the Baron and get things started.”

The Cardinal climbed stiffly to his feet and bent over the Holy Father’s left hand. The heavy ring was missing, but he kissed the ring finger anyway.

“Thank you, Holy Father. You will not regret this. I am sure that God is with us.”

The Pope nodded and hoped it was indeed so.

((((((((((((()))))))))))))

“The pits of hell?” Lucio shuddered at Nicole’s description of what the entity had shown her in answer to her question about Sophia and Mark Andrew.

“Well, yes. The Abyss, no doubt. Someone has thrown them in the Abyss. It is not out of the question, you know.” She drew a deep breath. “The Urim and Thummin say there was an evil one in the house. It could have been any one of a number of my father’s enemies.”

“That’s true, I suppose,” Lucio had to agree. Mark had certainly collected a
number
of enemies. He helped her gather the equipment as they prepared to return to the house.

“What do we do now?” She asked.

“We put that question to the Grand Master.” He shrugged. “I don’t have the authority to mount an expedition to the Abyss,
mia cara
.”

“Bullshit!” She snapped and caught up with him, taking his arm in hers. “You know how the Master feels about the
Chevalier du Morte
. He never cared for him… ever. He won’t let anyone go after him, and especially if he learns Sophia is pregnant.”

“Is Sophia pregnant?” Lucio stopped in his tracks.

“Of course. That is why I called up the forty-second name of Marduk. I thought it might help, since he knows of things born and unborn.”

“Oh, I see. Well, your father never ceases to amaze me. So this child is his?”

“Of course. They love each other. That is all that is necessary.”

“But he didn’t seem to have all his bread in one basket, if you will pardon the expression. He seemed more like a child than anything else.”

“That’s what I like about him. He is innocent.”

“How innocent can he be, Nicole? Besides, from what I understand, this man who is missing is not your father at all, but more like your brother.”

“I don’t care.” She smiled at him. “I can pretend, can’t I? Besides, he loves me, too…”

Lucio stopped again, and she tugged on his arm.

“Not like that, silly,” she laughed. “He loves me like a… like a sister. Yes, that’s it. Like an older sister. Luke had his father in King Ramsay. John Paul had his papa, and now I have my own version. Leave me alone.”

“
Santa Maria!
” Lucio shook his head.

Chapter Fifteen of Seventeen

Take ye the spoil of silver, take the spoil of gold:

for there is none end of the store and glory

“
Whattar ye doin’?!” Mark Andrew put one hand on his hip and the other on his forehead as he surveyed the terrified faces of the cook, the maid, the gardener, the smithy and the three boys who tended the flocks of sheep and geese.

The unlikely ‘staff’ of the Ramsay Estate looked at him in stunned silence. He stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking back at them in consternation as they huddled behind the barrels and crates piled in the basement.

“They are hiding, John,” Lily told him as she swept down the stairs behind him. “And if you know what is good for you, you will hush up now and be still until the danger is passed.”

Mark caught her arm and turned her to face him.

“Tell me what you are hiding from, Lily?” He asked more calmly as he realized the depth of her fear. “Does… Mark know there is danger here?”

“I haven’t told him… nay.” She looked away from him.

“Why not?” He shook her slightly.

“He has enough troubles, John,” she said. “I don’t want to be a burden to him. We just hide here until they come and go and then Sean and Richard will go out and gather the sheep and geese from the forest. They only take a few things. It’s become a sort of routine with us. When we get wind of them headed this way, we pack everything off to the woods and hide down here. It will be all right.”