Livingstone Saga, Book One: Birth

by Janell Rhiannon

  “She is correct. You will need to at least pretend for appearance sake, but no matter between us.”

  Celestino urged the priest to continue, “You came here on pilgrimage? Did your visions cease?”

  “No. No they did not. Quite the opposite. They intensified. I sought the advice of the Monsignor. He questioned me about the nature of my dreams, when they began, how they progressed and so forth. I told him everything,” he sighed. “In the end, he informed me there may be a spiritual cure, but I had to pass a secret test. If I did, my entire world would never be the same.”

  “Did you agree to this?” Celestino asked.

  “Sí, even though I had no idea what the challenge might be. He took me to a sculptor’s workshop. I remember thinking it was not so unusual that a sculptor’s shop would be here on the grounds of Compostela. It was a growing cathedral. Stone work was everywhere.” Father Tomas closed his eyes. “It is yet clear in my mind. A strange colored stone slab stood in the center of the room. The Monsignor bade me lay my hands upon it and tell him what I felt. At first, the stone was cold. Gradually, it warmed to my touch. I felt it pulse with a life of its own. The sensation startled me and I pulled my hands from fear.”

  “A livingstone slab,” Celestino reflected.

  “Sí, it was livingstone. And I was being called to become a Maker. My visions were the images of the gargoyle God desired I release.”

  “Did you release him?”

  “I studied with the masons and a master sculptor for over a year, before I put chisel to stone for the first time. Once I began, I became nearly obsessed with freeing him. He was magnificent, Celestino. As I am sure Iseo understands with you, there was a great sense of wonder. My belief in God strengthened in an instant. I knew I was witness to the very window between here and Heaven.”

  “What did you call him?” Celestino asked.

  “Tanuicus.” Father Tomas fell silent. His thoughts flying elsewhere, to the past, to things he would rather forget.

  “Why is Tanuicus absent from these walls?” Celestino asked. “Is he in some other House of God? Why would he leave this sanctuary? I thought it was forbidden to do so?”

  “You are right. It is forbidden...it was also unforeseen. I should have known, but I did not. To this day, I do not know how I could have missed something so important.”

  “What did you miss, Father? What did you overlook?” Celestino pressed for the truth.

  “That he had turned to Satan. He knew God. Had made his vows. Yet, he chose Satan in the end.”

  Celestino said nothing. It was inconceivable that a gargoyle would make that choice. “Where did he go?”

  “I believe Andres gave us the answer. He is serving as the shield of Lucifer the Fallen.”

  “He lives in Hell.” Celestino briefly contemplated the fact. “Why would a gargoyle make such a choice?”

  “Freewill,” said Father Tomas. “When Tanuicus fled, the Monsignor demanded I take formal vows to atone for the blemish of sin I birthed on the world. I had released no warrior of God, but a powerful warrior for Satan. He warned me that I must repent daily for my failure to bring God’s work to successful conclusion, if I ever intended to reach Heaven.”

  “Why would the Monsignor allow another Maker at Compostela?” Celestino questioned the priest.

  “I do not believe those decisions are his alone to make. Someone wanted another gargoyle here. Since I am the only surviving livingstone sculptor in this realm, it fell to me.”

  Celestino simply nodded his understanding.

  “It was not my choice to become involved with the birth of another gargoyle. I did not wish it. Perhaps I can redeem my past by Iseo’s success, by your commitment. I believe it is why Father Avriel was sent here.”

  Celestino observed the way Father Tomas rubbed his temples. “Father, what words do you refuse to release from your mouth? Is there more of this Tanuicus to tell?”

  “Ah, you gargoyles are perceptive creatures. There is more...Tanuicus will likely be one of the most powerful beasts in Hell. A turned gargoyle gathers strength no matter which choice he makes. A gargoyle is like the blade of a sword, double edged. Dangerous.” He looked at Celestino. “It is one of the reasons your kind are carefully birthed in secret, fully consecrated before you are exposed to the world ... and why you remain in God’s House.”

  “What is the other reason, Father?”

  “Once Satan and Lucifer know of your existence—now they do, have no doubt—they will seek to turn you or kill you.”

  “They may not have me. I am for God,” Celestino insisted.

  “It is not only you they will come after,” the priest paused, “they will come after the Maker. To stop the birthing of more gargoyles.”

  “My Maker,” Celestino murmured to himself. “They may not have her.”

  “It is why she is kept here at Compostela. Iseo is not safe in the world, as long as you exist.”

  “We must discover what happened at Andres’s baptism. I suspect he was not baptized at all. Some midwives hold little respect for the spiritual world, so focused they are on the physical,” Father Tomas reasoned.

  “And protect my Iseo,” Celestino added.

  “Sí, by all means, protect the Maker of Compostela. And there is one more thing you must consider.”

  “What is that, Father?”

  “Tomorrow evening you begin your first week of stone watch. The time has come for you to pay your requisite price for what you truly are.”

  Celestino bowed his head in understanding. “I pay it gladly,” he said. “Excuse me, Father, I wish to see my Maker.”

  *

  Celestino found Iseo in the kitchen house, kneading bread dough for the afternoon meal. She looked up when he entered the door and smiled. A stray hair fell across her face, which she tried to tuck behind her ear with her wrist, but to no avail. He stepped forward and with a deft finger neatly tucked the wild lock of hair behind the intended ear.

  “Gracías...what are you doing here? I mean, in the kitchen. Have you no lesson?”

  “The lesson for this day is complete.”

  “Ah. Bueno,” she said. “I am going to be here for most of the day. Father Antony has disappeared and it falls to me to make sure the Fathers have their midday meal.”

  “I see.”

  “You may help if you wish. A fisherman brought a basket of fresh fish for a change. They need to be cleaned before they are cooked. The basket is over there.” Iseo pointed to the table across from her.

  Celestino picked up a dead fish. It slipped from his hands, landing back in the basket where all the other dead fish jiggled. He finally gripped one behind the head, its black, beady eyes glistening. “How do I clean this foul smelling creature?” Iseo looked up at Celestino. His grimace looked more like pain than a reaction to the pungent smell of fish in a basket.

  She laughed. “If you make that face now, wait until you smell what is on the inside. It does not get much better.” She showed Celestino how to cut the belly of the fish and scoop its guts out. “Just remember you like fish when it is cooked.” Together they worked in the kitchen house without speaking. Several hours later, the bread was baked to a golden brown, boiled potatoes sat in bowls waiting to go to the dining table, and the fish was boiled to tender perfection with sea salt and fresh crushed garlic cloves.

  The food was delivered and the table set for supper, when Iseo dismissed herself from Celestino’s company.

  “Why are you leaving?” he asked.

  “I always eat in my chamber. You will be expected to eat with the other Fathers from now on. It would draw too much attention if you were to eat with me...alone, in my quarters.”

  “I see.” Celestino felt disappointed by that knowledge.

  “Remember to drink the wine. The Fathers will think it odd if you do not. Cut it with extra water, if you can. It will make it more palatable.”

  “I will do as my Iseo suggests,” he said, “I will miss our dining to
gether.”

  “As will I. Now go, get ready for supper. I will be fine,” Iseo reassured Celestino.

  Iseo filled a small trencher of bread with fish, broth, and a small potato, leaving Celestino to fend for himself among his new brethren.

  *

  Deep into the night, Celestino lay in his bed while sleep eluded him. The darkness pressed shadows to the wall, enhancing all sound until the dead hour arrived. The sensation of this hour caused his skin to tingle. He was about to make his ritual walk to Iseo’s chamber to sleep, when a familiar blinding light consumed the dark.

  “Buenos noches, Celestino,” the voice boomed.

  “And also to you, Archangel.”

  “I bring warning. Not all you see with your eyes is as it appears to be.”

  “What meaning am I to take from this? That my eyes deceive me?

  “I refer to the death of the peasant.”

  “I am vexed by this as well. Before the demon possessed the man, his soul was compromised.”

  “And he is not the only one, warrior.”

  “Speak plainly, Archangel,” Celestino urged.

  “Far too many souls are being dragged to Hell from this village. It has drawn the attention of the lower guardians that follow the souls from birth. Many have come to the Archangels with their concerns. We passed it to the Seraphim, who spoke it to the Highest. It was confirmed. Someone is stealing the souls before they die. It is the only explanation.”

  “How can a soul be stolen before it dies? Would you not know if a soul was damned to Hell?”

  “That is the pain of it, Celestino. Not even the humans know their souls have been compromised. They made no bargain with Satan or Lucifer, yet find themselves dragged down into the burning caverns of Hell...like Andres. His soul was doomed before the demon sprang to life inside him. Had he not been possessed, and you called upon to deliver his unclean spirit, he would have flown straight to the fire for lack of proper baptism.”

  “What is my purpose in this?”

  “Have you not placed the pieces together warrior?”

  Celestino thought aloud, “It is the baptism ritual.”

  “There is that and some other evil at work in this place. What I must divine is unclear.”

  “Is it more than tainted ritual?”

  “It is how the souls are taken that raises alarm. It is more than casual mistakes made by a few midwives. Someone, or something, is deliberately sending them to Hell. Secretly, for years. We must divine the cause and put an end to this atrocity.”

  “Why can the Archangels not stop it? You have the ability to see what most do not.”

  “There is an order to the celestial world, Celestino. Archangels fight only against the enemy of Heaven. We do not fight the wars of humans; it is beneath us. You may fight in the spirit world and in the realm of humans. This is why the task falls to you.”

  “I will do all that I must,” Celestino promised.

  “You will require the aid of your Maker in the discovery.”

  Celestino hesitated. “Why my Iseo?”

  “She is female. Only she can move amongst women without discovery.”

  “Will she not be in danger?”

  “Ask her if she is willing. She birthed a beast of God. She surely has the courage to do God’s will, no matter the task.”

  The gargoyle deferred to the Archangel with bowed head, “I understand.”

  “I am pleased you do.” The light dimmed and the quiet shadows returned. Celestino no longer felt the need to sleep. He lay down on his bed, staring up at the wooden beams of the ceiling. He knew Father Tomas must be informed. What the priest would do with this revelation, he did not know.

  *

  Iseo made her way down the hall to Father Tomas’s chamber. The path had become familiar enough over the last two years. The cryptic note under her door left everything to question. “Come immediately after the morning meal to my chambers.” She racked her brain, trying to think of what could possibly be so urgent. Whatever it was, she was certain it had to involve Celestino in some way. When she reached the chamber door, it was ajar. She peered around the edge of it and saw Father Tomas and Celestino sitting in silence. Celestino looked up at her first.

  “Come in, Iseo. Come in. And shut the door behind you,” Father Tomas whispered urgently.

  “By the look on your faces, I fear I should turn around.” Then a stray thought touched off a firestorm of fear. “Has my father sent word for my return?”

  “No. No, Iseo. It is not that at all,” Father Tomas consoled her. “But, it is a dire spiritual matter.”

  More confused than before, she sat in the chair furthest from Celestino. “Por favor, tell me.”

  Celestino began, “When we gave assistance to the man, Andres, I found his soul in great jeopardy.”

  “Because he was possessed?” Iseo asked.

  “In part. The possession resulted because the state of his soul was already in peril.” Father Tomas said.

  “I do not take your meaning.”

  “My Iseo, many souls from Compostela are being taken to Hell whether possessed or not,” Celestino explained.

  “You mean the unrepentant? I fear I am yet confused,” Iseo stammered.

  “The souls of hundreds have been lost to Satan, because they do not know they are lost, until it is too late. Andres believed himself on Heaven’s path, until his possession took him to the brink of spiritual death. I smelled the rot of his soul, before my feet crossed the threshold.”

  “How does someone not know Heaven is lost to them?” Iseo asked.

  Father Tomas interrupted, “Because, they were not baptized correctly. Somehow the rite of baptism was corrupted.”

  “Priests are trained in the ritual. How could it be tainted?”

  “Think closely, my Iseo. If someone were not baptized by the true rite, they would be ignorant of it their entire life. Only at Hell’s Gate, would they realize the stain on their soul. And then, it is too late. As it almost was for Andres. His first sacrament was tainted, and all the others that followed bore the stain as well. We only discovered this because of the demon. Think, my Iseo, how many more will go to Hell because they are not possessed and our aide requested? How would we discover them? Divine which souls are the walking damned?” Celestino urged.

  “What does this have to do with me? Why summon me? I am only a Maker.”

  “And a woman,” Father Tomas stated the obvious. Iseo caught a glimpse, in the corner of her eye, of Celestino flinching at the comment.

  “What expectation do you have of a woman in these grave matters?”

  “It is why I have called you here...you must apprentice as a midwife. Listen to the women. Seek the midwife who is doing this. How she is doing it. Why she is doing it. Only then, can we eradicate the evil.”

  “You want me to become a midwife?” Iseo exclaimed in disbelief. “I have borne no children. I have no training in midwifery.”

  “But you are a woman, and the only one in this room we can send.”

  “Why not re-baptize everyone?”

  “And what explanation would we give? That someone has been compromising souls, but we know not who, why, or for how long? That would encourage scandal and uprising. We would have to explain how we came by this knowledge in the first place. It is not like the dead come back and speak plainly to us. By rights, we should have no knowledge of this crime.”

  “True. It would be impossible to explain a gargoyle revealed this spiritual weakness when human eyes were blind to it. Are you certain of all this?” Iseo asked Celestino.

  “Sí, my Iseo. The Archangel confirmed it to me last night.”

  “You spoke with an Archangel?” Iseo’s eyes grew large.

  “Is that so hard to believe, my Iseo? You created me. Some might find that as incredulous.”

  Iseo slumped in her chair. Midwifery? Sweet Mary and Jesus! She closed her eyes against it. “I will do it, though it frightens me.”

&n
bsp; “You will have to live amongst the villagers for a brief time,” Father Tomas explained. “It is best that you make very little conversation about your life here.”

  “Why so, Father?” Iseo felt uneasy about his suggestion.

  “You are kept here for your own protection, Iseo. Satan and his followers will seek to destroy the Maker, just as they seek to destroy what you create. Any warrior on God’s side is fair game,” Father Tomas informed her. Iseo had never thought about being under personal attack by the evil ones. She knew temptation and sin were the natural burdens everyone must reconcile, but never had she imagined that Satan would send a demon soldier after her.

  “When will I have to go?” she asked.

  Father Tomas answered before she even finished speaking the words, “At first light. On the morrow.”

  “What about Celestino? Who will look after him?”

  “Tonight, I begin my seven days of stone. You have no cause to worry, my Iseo.”

  She had forgotten this fact. It both relieved and saddened her. Mostly, it surprised her how much Celestino meant to her daily routine.

 

  Chapter 15

  Lost to Love

  “This makes two days in a row you summon me to your chamber,” Iseo remarked.

  “There is much work to be done between the three of us,” Father Tomas said.

  “I have packed a small chest with clothing, as plain as I have. I did not know what else to take. I do not even know where you are sending me.”

  “I have arranged for you to stay with the widow of Andres. She will be needing the company, I expect. She may provide a place to start inquiring.”

  “When do I leave?”

  “Momentarily.”

  “I must say goodbye to Celestino. I...I have not seen him since...since…,” she stumbled for her reason.

  “Since he once again became stone,” Father Tomas finished her thought.

  “Sí. I wish to see him before I go.”

  “Iseo...you must go where you are needed. And you must curb your desire.”

  She felt the stinging truth of the words. Her natural defense was to question. “What mark are you bent on making, Father?”

  “I speak of the bond you have with your creation and he with you.”

  “You speak as if it is wrong to care for what I have brought forth into the world. It is my duty to ensure he manages his way.”

  “I speak not concerning his manners among men. It is best you are away while he enters this time of stone to pay his price.”