Tithe to Tartarus: The Dark Avenger's Sidekick Book Three (Moth & Cobweb 6)

by John C. Wright

  Yumiko said, “Please, you must! I don’t know what we are looking for!”

  Gil said to Matthias, “Matt, go see to that, please.”

  Matthias nodded and went back to the gate.

  2. A Requirement of Knighthood

  Gil stood with his arms folded and his legs spread, his head tilted forward, as unselfconsciously as a prince. He bent his gray-green eyes upon Yumiko and said, “The relics of the departed are underfoot, awaiting resurrection. It is an ill place to draw a weapon. Put yours away. It would grieve me to put my hands on you.”

  Yumiko straightened up and sheathed her weapons. She rubbed the palms of her gloves against her thighs nervously, but, of course, no sweat was wiped from her hands.

  Gil said, “Come over here, please.”

  She took a few steps and bowed nervously.

  He said, “I am not going to hurt you. I would never strike a woman. But I would like an explanation. Sir Garlot is a wicked and faithless knight, and victory over him was put into my hands. Yet you shot him with arrows and blinded and nauseated me and my horse, Rabicane, with smoke.” The red war steed neighed and prodded Gil in the shoulder with his nose. Gil said, “This greatly offended his pride since he was sure he could outrun and overtake Tachebrun, and for many a year, he wished to make the attempt.”

  Yumiko cast her eyes down, “Elfine was his prisoner. I needed Garlot to be wounded but survive the fight so that he would return to his treasure house, where his cauldron can heal his wounds. Malen the Red, his sister, told me he kept his fairy girls imprisoned there.”

  Gilberec said, “We are first cousins, you and I. My mother is your mother’s sister. Why didn’t you come to me?”

  She looked up. “What do you mean?”

  “Once I defeated him, I could have demanded the release of your friend, or all his prisoners, without any tricks, or cheats, or deceptions. To be allowed to ransom one’s life is a requirement of knighthood, in honor of the one whose red blood ransomed us. Why not ask me for help?”

  Yumiko was taken by surprise by this suggestion. “I– I don’t know. It never occurred to me. I was alone. I had no one to trust. I thought you might arrest Elfine for smuggling. She’s a lovable rogue. I don’t know you.”

  Gil’s eyes widened slightly. Now it was his turn to be surprised. “Of course you know me! You were there when I threw your master out the window of that rooftop restaurant where we met for tea when he shot his mouth off. We’ve talked at least twice, maybe four times. You know I would not lie to you.”

  Yumiko said, “I don’t remember that. I don’t remember anything!”

  The collie barked and wagged his tail.

  Gil said, “Why are you here? In this cemetery?”

  Yumiko said, “This is the City of Corpses the magician shipped all the werewolves to once they were prepared. He is not neutral at all, but the sworn servant of Lucien Cobweb, who is Thursday of the Anarchists.”

  “Who told you that?”

  “A ghost named Le Maudit. I shot him.” Yumiko said, “Where is the Cheyenne? I heard his voice. And where is Elfine?” For neither she nor Matthias were in sight at that moment.

  The dog barked. Gil said, “The Cheyenne is dead, and Elfine is around the building at the water fountain. Are you looking for Tom?”

  “Yes.”

  “You think he is here?”

  “Yes.”

  “Why? Who told you he was here?”

  Yumiko said, “The house hob of the Cobbler’s Club, named Sly Jack Crookshank. He was the one actually running the house. Or was. It is burned now. The magician was just a front.”

  Gil shook his head, “A tiny sprite that lives in a whiskey bottle? I am afraid he’s been deceiving you, cousin. How did the Cobbler’s Club burn down?”

  “I– I don’t know.”

  “You remember that I can hear it in your voice when you shade the truth?”

  “I mean I do not know for certain, but I think it was Winged Vengeance.”

  The muscles in Gil’s jaw twitched as he silently ground his teeth. “What, again? He has to go and destroy all our leads? All our evidence? What is his problem? Whose side is he on?”

  Elfine came flying out from behind the corner of the gatehouse, circled Yumiko like a dragonfly, landed, and swelled up to full size. Matthias came into view and quickly trotted over. Matthias was smiling, “We hit the jackpot, Gil!”

  3. Breaking Fast

  Matthias stood grinning, and Gil said, “Out with it. What jackpot?”

  Matthias gave Elfine an affectionate pat on the head. “Our cousin from Troynovant here knows where the Nautilus docks. That must have been why the Anarchist asked Garlot to catch her.”

  Gil said, “Where?”

  Elfine said, “Bedloe Island.”

  Gil said, “Where is that?” But the dog barked, and Gil said, “You mean Liberty Island? Where the Statue of Liberty stands?” And the dog barked again, and Gil said in a ponderous tone of voice, “You mean where the statue stands called Liberty Enlightening the World but no one knows that except for some know-it-all dog because everyone else in the world calls it the Statue of Liberty? That island?”

  Elfine hopped up and down and clapped her hands. “That is the one! It is made of copper. So it is elf-friendly. We can come to America too and be free. May I?”

  Gil said, “May you what?”

  Elfine said, “Be free! My daddy said you knew the secret. That is you! That is you two! You are called the Last Crusade. Are there only the two of you?”

  The dog barked and raced in a circle and barked again. Gil said, “No, we are not called Super Action Team Swan. And there are three of us. Four, if you count Ruff.”

  Yumiko said, “Tom is the other member. He is here in the cemetery. You have to show us where.”

  Elfine pointed. “It is up the hill a ways.”

  Gil said to Elfine, “I cannot make you an American if that is what you are asking. There is an ordeal all must pass. A trial by paperwork and years of waiting. If you are asking to join the Last Crusade, that is not in my hands either. The Man in the Black Room selects us. Frankly, I am not sure if any willing volunteer is turned away. Nothing but a willingness to serve is required. Your aid now will display the willingness is present.”

  Elfine said, “I’d be happy to help! As long as I do not have to drive a long stick like that through people’s bodies.” She pointed at Gil’s lance. “It looks messy and horrible.”

  “It is not a thing any girl should see,” Gil agreed. He turned to Matthias, “Release the ghost and send him on to his reward. We have no more need of him.” He turned again. “Matthias will require a little time to complete his work. Have you ladies had breakfast yet?”

  Yumiko could not even remember the last time she ate. Was it during her shopping expedition with Malen? She had not ordered any room service in that hot-sheet motel, but she had stopped for a croissant and green tea at an open air café the morning before the duel on the Brooklyn Bridge. Which had been noon yesterday.

  Yumiko said, “Actually, thank you. I am a little hungry. And Elfine has been kept in a bottle.”

  Elfine said, “Garlot’s vassals fed us gruel, bean curd and yogurt, salads and salty tea, and made us exercise and do ballet twice a day. And then there was choir practice. As prison life goes, it was not so bad. We were kept in trim like fighting cocks.”

  Gilberec opened his saddlebags and drew out a brightly colored cardboard box. “I have some cold tacos from Taco Hut left over here and half a two-liter bottle of warm root beer that’s gone flat. There is no cup, so you’ll have to drink out of the bottle.”

  Elfine wrinkled her nose. “Boys eat such interesting things for breakfast!”

  Yumiko bowed. “We are very grateful for your generosity.”

  Elfine looked nervous when Gilberec handed her the box and the bottle. He knelt, crossed himself, and clasped his hands over the fast food. “Bless us, Lord, and these, thy gifts, which we are about to rece
ive from thy bounty. Through Christ, Our Lord, Amen.” And he made the sign of the cross a second time. Elfine heaved a sigh of relief and laughed nervously.

  “I suppose it did work!” she said. “But I don’t feel any differently.”

  Gil handed her a cold taco. “The more mortal food you eat, the better you will be able to allow memories of past wrongs done you to fade, and the less things like music and the motions of the planets will influence your thinking. You will find yourself able to decide to do or not to do things that are now fixed in your character. If you start eating ambrosia and nectar again, however, you will return to a more dreamlike state.”

  Elfine wrinkled her nose again. “So eating a taco will make me more human? Who designed this world and its crazy rules?”

  Gil said, “The designer is the same one who bids us eat his flesh and drink his blood every Sabbath, that we may consumed by him. The freedom you seek is found there. Looking for freedom in any other place puts you under the Black Spell. The fair enchantments of the elfs or the ugly malice of the devils will fix fetters on you.”

  Elfine said, “How are you immune from the oath that binds all of the Twilight folk?”

  Gil said, “I swore to Arthur. That oath prevents Erlkoenig from demanding my fealty.”

  Yumiko said, “Where is the Cheyenne? I heard his voice.”

  Gil looked impressed. “You have good ears. He is in the land of the dead. As we would be if Matt has not seen him hovering near the booby trap that killed him. It turns out the rats in the city did know where Winged Vengeance was hiding—or one of his hiding places, at least. An abandoned factory in Harlem. The Cheyenne saw you going into the chimney and, much later, coming out.”

  Yumiko said, “I think I heard his motorcycle. Following me.”

  “Then he was sloppy. He could have kept his distance. He had a dowsing rod given to him by Sly Jack Crookshank that was pointed at you. The Cheyenne tried to break into the factory after you left. He found an upper door one can only reach from the roof of a neighboring building. This door opened into what looked like an elevator. But when he stepped in and pushed the button, it electrocuted him, and the trapdoor in the floor opened and sent his body sliding down a long chute and into a dumpster filled with liquid filth sitting in a vacant lot on the other side of the building. We were not fooled by that trap, but we almost stepped onto the catwalk and would have blown ourselves up with limpet mines. The ghost warned us in time. Warned Matt. I cannot see him.”

  Yumiko said, “Where is this divining rod now?”

  “We buried it with the Cheyenne.”

  “You buried him?”

  “You sound surprised. You think we were going to leave a dead man lying in a garbage dumpster filled with sewage?”

  Matt came walking back at that moment, looking weary. He doffed his eyeglasses and rubbed the tail of his tunic over the lenses with thumb and forefinger. “Well, his shadow is no longer cast on Earth, but unless our good cousin Elfine can help us, I am not sure where the entrance to the underground installation is. The Cheyenne mentioned the name, but with so many headstones here…”

  Elfine pointed at a tall dome, perhaps the largest one in sight, dominating a nearby hill, rising like a smooth white mountain above the peaks and crags of obelisks and memorials. “That one there. The Johansson Mausoleum. That huge monument one on the hill there, with the marble dome and the statue of Saint Joseph on top.”

  Gil thanked her, and took the reins of his palfrey, and walked through the headstones rapidly toward where Elfine had pointed. Matt, who had been eating a taco, now strode after. The dog barked at the white mule, which only slowly stirred into motion. The red war steed trotted along at Gil’s shoulder without being led. Yumiko followed.

  Elfine skipped from headstone to headstone, chatting merrily. “It says Johansson. I thought maybe a man name Johan buried his son there. And there is a statue of Saint Joseph. He is the man who carries Baby Jesus. Have you heard about him? He was a humble carpenter, but his ancestors were kings.”

  Gil did not break his stride but answered and said, “His story is well known among mortal men. He breathed his last on Earth with the Virgin to one side of him and the Christ to the other, so all men wish to have such good company at death. To Saint Joseph I often pray since I wish my own father, whoever he is, to have Heaven’s favor and protection.”

  Matthias said, “Before we go in, let us commend ourselves to his powerful intercession. Those whom Saint Joseph watches shall never die a sudden death, nor shall they be drowned, nor shall poison take effect on them, neither shall they fall into the hands of the enemy, nor be burned in any fire, nor overpowered in battle.”

  They came to the mausoleum. A dolomite dome rested on the intersection of four pavilions whose ornate entablatures in turn were held up by Corinthian columns. The pediment and frieze were decorated with grape and ivy leaf patterns. The entrance porch held great bronze doors molded with grape trellises. Beneath the architrave and between the columns on each face were three evenly spaced windows, each with a lattice of bars. The bronze doors stood open. A low ramp of wood covered the stairs. The doors and the ramp were large enough to admit a small truck.

  In they went.

  4. A Prayer before Battle

  Within was cool and gloomy. The ceiling of the dome was a mosaic of colored glass showing Hercules battling Cerberus. Two archways opened up to the left and right into deep recesses, where angels in niches stood peering over sarcophagi with brass plates inset into the walls. A barred grate of heavy bars, shaped like curled acanthus leaves, blocked a third archway. A dark stair beyond led steeply down. At the top of the stair was a block and tackle for lowering weights. Mats had been placed on the marble pavement to protect it unsuccessfully from scars and scuffs caused by moving heavy bulks, no doubt crates.

  The collie dog sniffed at the barred grate blocking the dark stair leading down and made a low growl. Gil said, “This is the place. They are here.”

  Elfine, craning her neck and staring upward, said, “How can they be here, where it is so quiet and pretty? This is holy ground, isn’t it?”

  Gil answered Elfine, “To hide. Elfs of purer blood cannot approach sacred things to desecrate them. The Cobwebs are half-mortal men, as we are.”

  Matt said, “In the holiest Church the most wicked evils will be found. Devils do not war with lukewarm believers, but with the saints.”

  Elfine got on her knees next to the door, put her nose to the locked grating as well, and sniffed. She said, “There must be another exit. Men or Cobwebs carrying werewolves in crates might go in or out this way, but not werewolves walking on their own feet. Besides, even a groundhog is wise enough to have a second escape exit out of a burrow.”

  Hoofbeats muffled by the mats laid here, Rabicane the war steed came stomping into the mausoleum. Sir Gilberec took the gleaming breastplate, leggings and helm of his armor from the saddlebag, and began to dress himself in his armor. His armor was cunningly fashioned to be donned by one man, without the need for a squire.

  Matthias prayed aloud to the Trinity and asked for the intercession of Good Saint Anne to aid his prayers, and Saint Cyprian of Antioch, and the Cure de Ars. Elfine stared at him in wonder, every now and again asking who these people were and how good their hearing was. Matthias answered her questions with a smile. Gilberec asked him also to pray to Saint George, Martin of Tours, Joan of Arc, and Demetrius of Thessalonica.

  Yumiko plucked on Matt’s cloak hem. “If you please,” she asked. Then, she stopped, overcome by a mingled sense of caution and humility. The eyes of Matthias within the circles of the lenses of his spectacles were mild. “Yes, cousin?”

  “Is it possible for the dead to come again to life?”

  He nodded and crossed himself. “If not, then all we believe and know is folly, and all in which we hope is vain. But not by any art of men or occult practice of devils can the thing be done, nor by elfin glamour, or any kind act of nature.”

  “
Then how?”

  “All mortal things are condemned to pass away. Mother Nature is the royal headsman. Only the pardon of the king can suspend or reverse her death warrant.”

  “I saw a bright lady. She was dressed in white with a red cloak. A great sword was in her hand, but she also held a lily and a palm leaf. And she offered me a cup. In it was not wine, but a golden fire.”

  Matthias said, “Did you see her with your eye?”

  “In a dream. I think I was dead. I woke up in the hospital.”

  “The white robe and the white lily are her virginity, the red mantle and the palm are her martyrdom. She was slain by the sword for her faith. It might be any number of saints.”

  “A ghost called me the handmaiden of Barbara.”

  Matthias nodded. “If your vision was of Barbara, the cup she held was the host. Saint Barbara visits those who are struck dead suddenly—killed by lightning—and offers them last rites and a last chance to confess and repent. Between the moment the lightning leaves the cloud and before it falls to the earth is time enough.”

  Yumiko stared at Elfine and then looked back at Matthias. “What did you do to her? She was unwilling to step on holy ground before and could not say prayers or hear them said.”

  Matthias said, “I baptized her. Normally, it is done by a priest, in a proper rite, with godparents at hand, and after due instruction. But in an emergency, in the middle of mortal peril, any layman can baptize any willing soul. If done in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, the sacrament is valid no matter who performs it.”

  Yumiko felt a shock of emotion run through her. She had been alone since the moment she woke, alone and lonely with none to help her, no ally, no friend. Now, the very day she had freed Elfine, Elfine had joined this, whatever this was.

  Yumiko knew it was unfair for her to feel jealous, but the feeling persisted. Elfine had exited the world and entered a rich mansion, and now the mansion door was closed, and Yumiko was on the wrong side.

  Yumiko remembered hearing Gil’s ringing words to Wilcolac. Arthur serves truth and justice, and I serve him. Those words had lodged in her heart. In a world of greedy beggars and crass liars, the urge to serve a high and noble cause was mystical, magnetic, and irresistible.