Dinah remembered her own initiation into the Dragons. The trials and tests reflected rebirth into a new order. At the time she thought they were a holdover from another age, but now she remembered being burned and cutting herself, letting three drops of blood fall into a brazier. She looked at the inside of her upper arm where she could still see the brand of the dragon, normally hidden by her clothes. What did it really mean? She still had her book of rituals, and she would reread it. If Richard McPherson was, in fact, a member of the Dragons, maybe she should talk to him about what it meant.
The phone rang, snapping her out of her reverie.
“Hello?”
“Dinah, it’s Jake.”
“Yes.”
“Have you read the journal?”
“Uh-huh.”
Jake gave a low whistle. “So now you understand. After what happened yesterday I’m inclined to think that my uncle was onto something. Esmae was with me when I was at Lasher’s Station. I’m beginning to wonder if she really died or was even kidnapped.”
“But what about the other girl…?” Dinah paused, trying to recall the name. “Shauna.”
“I’m not sure. I saw her covered in blood in the store. She might’ve been staged, or she might very well have been an innocent girl. I really don’t know.” Jake paused, taking a sip of something. “How would you like to take a trip with me?”
“Where to?” Dinah asked.
“Saint Eric’s. It’s the local Roman Catholic Church. If what my uncle said is true, then maybe someone in the church can help out.”
Dinah chewed on her lower lip for a moment. “Sounds great, I’ll bring your journal.” She got directions and grabbed her notepad and bag and charged out the door.
Greta stopped her at the base of the stairs. “This package came for you, Miss Steele.”
Dinah grabbed the package wrapped in brown paper. It had been sent by private messenger. There were no stickers or writing on the package except for her address. She tore it open and found a high-end thirty-five-millimeter camera and a note from Klinton.
Miss Steele,
You need to carry this at all times. Take a lot of pictures with the filter on and off. It is just a flip of a switch. We will process the film. Of course, if you have a photographer with you, don’t worry about taking pictures.
Emery
Dinah grimaced as she shoved the camera into her bag. She was a terrible photographer, but if Klinton told her to take the camera, she would take the camera. She remembered Don Hatchett carrying that archaic camera and figured this one was much better. St. Sebastian’s bells rang sext hours as she headed out to St. Eric’s. As the church bells called out their time, the terror that gripped the town lifted, and life breathed through the streets.
St. Eric’s towered over the street in its gothic style. Ancient stained glass windows carefully brought over from Europe added a riot of color to the bleak gray façade. Gargoyles hunched at key points along the roof, and chains hanging from their gaping maws were pulled tight by anchor points on the ground. Two arched iron-bound oak doors stood open, welcoming in the bright summer sun. Church spires reached to the sky, covered with carved copper plating.
Jake leaned against a black Mercedes. His normal casual clothing was replaced by functional khakis and a long-sleeved beige shirt. His hair was slicked back, and his eyes hid behind Prada sunglasses. Dinah fumbled out of her Prius. Jake gave a brief smile and walked over to shake her hand.
“Glad you could make it,” he said. “What’s that for?” He motioned to the camera.
“Oh, my editor wants me to carry it all the time. Something about lots of pictures, and digital doesn’t work.”
Jake gripped her arm as he guided her through the massive doors. A priest greeted them as they invaded the hush of the sanctuary. “Welcome to St. Eric’s. I am Father Pervis Morgenson.”
Jake shook his hand. “I’m Jake Willis.”
“Of course,” Father Pervis said. “I knew you would be here sooner or later. Your uncle will be missed by the congregation.”
Dinah mused on Father Pervis’s words. I didn’t know that Caedon went to this church, she thought. I wonder why Jake didn’t mention it. “This church is amazing. Why does it look so old?”
Father Pervis smiled. “The Valencio family paid for it to be brought over. It was in an isolated area of Italy and was going to be destroyed. They made a deal with the Mother Church to bring it over and restore it. The land and the church have been blessed by the Pope. This is probably the most sacred spot in Firemountain.”
“Except for St. Sebastian’s convent,” Dinah said. She closed her mouth sharply. How on Earth did I know that?
Father Pervis gaped at her. “Well yes, I suppose…”
“What makes you say that?” Jake asked.
“I don’t know.” Dinah shuffled her feet. “It’s just… the convent rings bells at the hours. But I don’t know how come I can identify the hours. I’ve never been to Sunday school, and only had a smattering of information.” She stared at Father Pervis. “How come I know so much?”
Father Pervis opened his mouth, and then closed it again. He swallowed deeply and stared about the grand sanctuary with the hand-carved pews and the altar behind the gate. “In Firemountain, things happen, and people know things.” He shook himself. “I think if you need to talk to Father Conrad you should go right on up. But try not to tire him.”
Dinah and Jake followed Father Pervis up the stairs to Father Conrad’s room. “What do you know about the bells?” Jake whispered.
Dinah shook her head and lowered her voice. “It seems like the town relaxes when they ring. The tension and fear ease up. I can’t figure out why, but it does. Why do you ask?”
“I haven’t heard the bells since I returned,” Jake whispered. “I wonder what that means.”
Father Pervis paused next to a door. “Father Conrad was severely wounded last night.” He opened the door. “Don’t mind Sister Mary Agnes. She’s very devoted to her calling.”
The door swung open and they saw a nun tending to a man swathed in bandages. She was dressed in pure white, including a habit, wimple, a white veil and a scapular. She glared at them and glided out of the room, closing the door softly behind her. Dinah and Jake stood at attention under her gaze until she left. They broke down in giggles when the door closed.
Father Conrad struggled to sit up. Jake hurried to his side to assist him. His watery eyes turned to Dinah. “I’m glad you made it home safely, child,” he whispered.
“How did you know it was me in the car?”
“One of the mysteries, I guess. Father Pervis never really understands them. He tends to his flock as a good Vatican II priest should. He leaves the other stuff to us throwbacks.” He closed his eyes, his chest rising and falling evenly, but in shallow breaths.
“Can we get you something for the pain?” Dinah asked.
“I’m afraid not. Demon attacks, you know. You can’t use painkillers because it lowers your defenses. The wounds need to be soaked in holy water. They don’t respond to antibiotics. Every time she changes the bandages it feels like someone is dripping acid on me.”
Dinah blinked. Why is he so open about this?
Father Conrad watched her with twinkling eyes. “I surprise you. I shouldn’t. I’m a demon hunter. My order, the Carolingians, has been tracking the supernatural—or, as it is called today, the preternatural—for hundreds of years. We’re the dirty little secret the Vatican likes to keep hidden.”
“But what was that thing that attacked us?”
“A Balezulthae, a mid-level warrior demon. Whoever summoned it is involved with something very dangerous. They only work with some of the most powerful demon lords.”
“My uncle Caedon found reference to Gleebelix,” Jake said.
Conrad grimaced and shifted a bit more. “You must be the new Master Willis. I knew your uncle well. He was a wise man. I hope that you’ll live up to his memory. I would suspect that if it is Gleebelix then we a
re dealing with a being of sound. That would make sense because it would need to block the church bells.”
Jake nodded. “I haven’t been able to hear the church bells since I returned. I hear things, but the sounds keep getting fainter. I took a drug at a bar. I thought it was ex, but it was something different. I now hear something, but I can no longer hear church bells.”
“What drug was that?” Conrad asked, his eyes widening as he struggled to lean forward. His breath hissed through his teeth from the effort.
“I don’t know, Laya has it. She sent a sample to the Tacoma forensic lab as well as the chemistry lab at Crenellian.”
Conrad nodded. “Good. The Crenellian lab will check for things that Tacoma won’t. Do you remember what it was like when you took the drug?”
Jake closed his eyes for a moment. Dinah sat in a wooden chair close by, studying both men. Jake opened his eyes. “The music became more real. It was like I could see the notes floating around me. The rhythm of the beat felt primal, like I was part of the world.” He paused for a moment. “The other night when I was fighting Benjamin, I heard a faint buzzing noise. I wanted to kill everything when I heard it. I think that Benjamin heard it more clearly, and that was why he went on that rampage.”
“Benjamin was at the psychiatric hospital, wasn’t he?” Conrad asked.
Jake nodded. “He was one of the escapees from a few nights back. I think that Laya is moving them to Western State until the investigation concludes.”
“Probably a good idea,” Conrad agreed.
“Wait a minute,” Dinah interrupted. She felt frustrated and confused. Part of her still couldn’t accept the existence of demons. “This is all fascinating, but everyone knows that demons don’t exist. And, while certain hallucinogens can cause rage, no drug is magical. That is a myth from more primitive times. I’m tired of these fairy tales. I need hard facts, data, as to what happened. What was that thing? Are you sure it wasn’t a wolf that escaped from the local zoo?”
Dinah fell silent as both Jake and Father Conrad stared at her. She didn’t remember standing during her tirade, but there she was, standing ramrod straight with her fists clenched at her sides. She was getting tired of this—the second newspaper, the prevailing thought throughout the entire town that Firemountain was vulnerable to demon attacks. Did Don slip me something at that press conference?
“Child…” Father Conrad began.
“No, I don’t want to hear it. Jake, you’ve been outside. You must know how insane this is!” She turned to face him.
“Dinah, do you have Caedon’s journal?” Jake asked.
She fumbled in her messenger bag and came up with the leather-bound journal. She thrust it into Jake’s hands, glaring at him as he took the book. “The ramblings of a mad-man,” she muttered.
“I wish I could agree with you,” Father Conrad said, “but we both know it’s not true. My order has fought these things for centuries. You’ve stumbled into another world, one that I wish you could leave. Maybe your disbelief will help you in the long run.”
“Okay.” Dinah strode across the room to the stricken man. “Let’s say that it’s true. If there are demons and devils, does that mean there are also angels?”
Jake and Father Conrad looked at each other for a moment. “Of course there are,” Father Conrad whispered.
“So where are they? Why aren’t they helping us?” Dinah spat back.
Jake slunk to the back of the room and sank into the chair Dinah had vacated. His head rested on his clenched fists.
“Do you really want to meet an angel?” Father Conrad said. “They’re not what people think of as angels in this day and age. They’re great beings of terrible power and beauty answerable only to the will of God. In the Middle Ages, they were portrayed with their wings tipped in blood. During the Victorian era, the church repainted their wings so they were white. They razed the city of Sodom and Gomorrah. They destroyed armies with angelfire. They are utterly ruthless, without remorse or mercy, and do only what they are told. We are safe from them only by the will of God. Yes, angels fight against devils and demons, but the price of their help may be terrible.”
“So you’re telling me that angels don’t look after children and are not the guardians of light.”
“You missed the point.” Father Conrad shifted in his bandages, flailing his legs under the light covers. “They watch children only if God tells them to. Make no mistake, child, angels bear us humans no love or hate, only duty. When God put us before them, many of the angels rebelled and were cast out of heaven.”
“I know Lucifer, the Light-Bearer, led them in rebellion because he was jealous. He was cast out of heaven and into the lake of fire, along with the fallen angels. I’ve read Paradise Lost,” Dinah said.
“Then you know about the angel wars. But they weren’t the first wars. Before there were fallen angels or devils, there were demons that sought to undermine God’s creation. They sought to corrupt the world and the people. All of the angels, including Lucifer, fought against them for thousands of years until they were banished to the underworld, or the Abyss.”
“But this is a legend, a myth. It isn’t real,” Dinah insisted.
“Of course it’s real.” Father Conrad sat up suddenly and yelped with pain. “That was no wolf that attacked me last night.” He ripped off his bandages and flung his arm out in Dinah’s direction. The wounds were black and smelled of sulfur. She stared at them as black oozed down his arm. The wounds were jagged, and the white of the bone shone through rent flesh. The holy water was bright silver and held back the shadows—inhuman shadows that flowed about the flesh. Sinister red eyes gleamed in the shadows. The eyes followed her as she turned away.
“This happened when I jumped in front of what was chasing you. I fought it off with my faith and the poor weapons that I possess. It was only by God’s grace that I survived. This is my calling, my duty, and I do not regret it. What I fight is real. You must believe in something, or you’re lost.” He sank back into his pillows. “If you would, please soak some fresh bandages in holy water and wrap up my arm again.”
Dinah slipped on some latex gloves and carefully dampened the gauze with holy water. When the water dripped on the wound, small drops of silver light fell amongst the evil shadows, and Father Conrad hissed from pain as she wrapped up the wounds. The bandages hid the infection from her sight. Father Conrad mouthed a prayer in Latin. Even though she didn’t understand it, she could feel its strength.
“Jake,” Conrad said after his wounds were dressed, “I know you and Dinah need to find out who killed Caedon and why. Be careful. I’ll call my order to find out what information they have on Gleebelix. Take Dinah with you; her views may help you spot things that you normally wouldn’t see, mundane things not of the supernatural.”
Father Conrad beckoned Dinah closer. He made the shape of a cross on her forehead. “In nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”
The ancient blessing flowed through her with silver light. It burned on her forehead and silver light trailed from his trembling hand. Peace radiated from her, jumping to Jake, who moved forward for the same blessing. The same silver light flared on his forehead.
“I’m sorry, I’m feeling fatigued. When you leave, please ask Sister Mary Agnes to attend to me again.” Father Conrad sank back into his pillows. His body was shrunken and diminished. His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his hands clutched an ancient rosary, and his lips moved in silent prayer.
Dinah and Jake eased the door shut, and found Sister Mary Agnes in the next room making notes in a chart. “He would like for you to check in on him,” Jake said.
She scowled at them and rose to her feet. She glided out of the room, her footfalls making no noise as she moved down the hallway.
Jake stared at Dinah and sank into one of the empty chairs. “I wish I could make this easier on you, but you have to deal with this now. If you aren’t willing to believe that it might exist, you will be destroyed
.” He took a coin out of his pocket and fidgeted with it, rolling it between his fingers.
He stood and opened the door for her. “Come on, we aren’t done yet. Hopefully you’ll believe us, but even if you aren’t able to at the moment, we still need to find out who killed Caedon. I think we should take a closer look at Grove Stand Park.”
“Wait, Jake.” She put a restraining hand on his arm. “I saw something last night.”
She told him what happened in one breath. “Do you think Janelle can handle it?”
Jake pursed his lips into a thin line. “After we go to the park, we need to check out that tree.”
The park was very quiet. No children played on the playground. No birds sang songs in the trees. The air was quiet and still. Dinah struggled to hear the church bells ringing terce. The sound was muffled and distant.
Jake and Dinah slunk along the path to the stones. No one lingered in the afternoon sun. The stones loomed up behind the oak trees. Misshapen shadows lingered in the circle. She placed a hand on Jake’s arm. He opened his bag, taking out a silver flask, and he sprinkled water from it on the circle. Drops of silver light chased away the shadows. They sizzled when they hit the ground.
Blood and scorch marks defaced the inside of the circle. The grass was torn up, and chunks of sod were scattered willy-nilly around the site. Jake padded to the broken stone. A pool of black blood with flies buzzing around it dripped down the side of the stone. He sprinkled more holy water onto the stone.
Dinah moved closer to the bushes that covered the far side of the circle. A trail of broken branches disappeared into the dense bushes.
She motioned for Jake to come over. “What do you think went that way?” She gestured to the other side of the circle. “Whatever attacked Father Conrad and me went that way?”
Jake nodded. “Well, let’s see what’s there.” He slipped a flashlight from his bag. “I was a Boy Scout. Be prepared.” He flashed the three-finger salute, and they set off through the bushes.
Dinah giggled. It felt good to laugh. Brush scraped her legs, and blood trickled down her calf. Jake stopped suddenly, his light trained on the ground. Dinah pushed her way up to him.
Whispers in the Woods (Firemountain Chronicles Book 1) Page 10
