The Impaler

say: some version of, Hope the show went well. Sorry I won’t be able to make it. Things are pretty hectic around her as usual. Keep up with your studies and talk to you soon. Dad.

Cindy never forgot that first e-mail from her father saying he was going to miss her main-stage debut; how he made the mistake of writing “her” instead of “here”—“Things are pretty hectic around HER,” he’d said.

A Freudian slip, Cindy thought.

Of course, in the three years since her first role at Harriot, Cindy’s father never made that mistake again, but his absence at every one of her shows spoke volumes. Don’t ever forget you come second, Daddy Dearest was really saying. Always second after new wife and new kid.

Yeah, things sure were pretty hectic around “her.”

And, of course, Cindy knew deep down that the keep up your studies tag at the end—always at the end—was just a slap in the face in case she didn’t get the gist of the previous sentence. For Daddy Dearest was not only saying, Make sure you have a backup plan when this silly-waste-of-time acting thing doesn’t work out, but also, Don’t expect me to waste any of my time on your bullshit.

Cindy sat staring at her empty inbox for a long time, when suddenly the sinking feeling in her stomach rose to the back of her throat. She swallowed hard, and for a moment felt as if she would cry.

Who are you getting so upset over? asked the voice in her head. Daddy or Edmund Lambert? At least Daddy Dearest took the time to e-mail you.

Impulsively, Cindy reached for her book bag, found the Macbeth contact sheet inside her dialects binder, and traced her finger over Edmund Lambert’s e-mail address. There was no number listed for him; only the number for the Harriot scene shop.

“You wouldn’t call him anyway,” Cindy said out loud. “Not after the thing with the rose. But you could always e-mail him.”

Maybe they’re one and the same, the voice in her head persisted. Daddy and Lambert. Maybe that’s why you’re so attracted to Mr. Soldier Boy—older guy, Daddy issues. What would Freud have said about that?

“Fuck you,” Cindy whispered, and shut off her computer.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath—tried to shut out all thoughts of her father and Edmund Lambert and forced her mind to focus on the day ahead. Her dialects class was canceled because of the show, but she still had her private singing tutorial at noon. She’d get her ass reamed for sure if word got back to Kiernan that she blew it off. But her voice lesson was in the music building, which meant she’d really have no excuse to stop by the theater at all today; no excuse to wander past the scene shop and perhaps run into Edmund Lambert. She could always hang out for a bit in the computer lab; linger just a little longer at her locker with the hope that—

You see? said the voice in her head. You just can’t keep your mind off of him. So fucking pathetic.

“Okay,” Cindy said, “if he hasn’t e-mailed or called me when I get back, I’ll e-mail him before I head off to the gym. After that, he can just keep up with his fucking studies.”

Pathetic and obsessed, said the voice in her head.

Cindy laid the contact sheet atop her keyboard, making sure that it was centered and its edges were perfectly parallel with the edges of the keyboard underneath.

Curiously, she felt better.

Obsessed, repeated the voice in her head.

“Beyond obsessed,” Cindy answered, smiling.

Then she got dressed.

Chapter 37

As Markham shuffled his notes, he became keenly aware of how the anticipation in the room suddenly ratcheted up a notch—could almost feel the other agents zeroing in on him and adjusting their antennae.

“Now then,” he said, “I’ll ask all of you to entertain the line of reasoning that led us to whom we believe to be the ‘I’ in ‘I have returned.’ The Leo slide, please.”

Schaap obliged, and Markham rose from his chair, thrust his hands in his pockets, and walked casually to the far end of the conference table.

“On the screen,” he began, “is the traditional version of the constellation Leo. Schaap and I, with the assistance of our consultant in the classical studies department at NC State, began our research into the ancient cultures represented by the writing found on Donovan and Canning. Our consultant quickly pointed out that, in all of these cultures, not only do we see strong astrological traditions dating back to the beginnings of their written history but also the lion figuring prominently in their respective mythologies.

“Next we began to look specifically for mythological tra- ditions connected to the time of year when Leo is the most visible: spring, when the lion returns once again to become visible among the stars. In other words, we took the phrase ‘I have returned’ as literally as possible. Schaap?”

“The most obvious place to look first was with the Ancient Egyptians,” he said. “Pretty much everybody is familiar with the way their gods are portrayed. You know, half animal, half human. But before we even began looking for a spring connection, our classical studies expert suggested we look somewhere else.”

“Right,” said Markham. “Given the history of each of the ancient cultures at the center of our investigation, as well as the documented borrowing and cross-fertilization of religions and mythologies between those cultures, our consultant said an Egyptian deity would be a stretch. Meaning, if we worked from the premise that the Impaler used each of the six ancient scripts to literally speak to a lion god or a mutation of such within those cultures—or perhaps, even to speak as the god himself—a through-line of an Egyptian deity would not work.”

“Now you’re losing me,” said Big Joe Connelly.

Markham was about to answer, but Alan Gates interrupted him: “May I, Sam?”

“Sure,” Markham said, taken aback.

“You see,” Gates began, “many scholars believe that, specifically with regard to Middle Eastern religions, one can trace similarities and borrowings from one religion to the next. For example, in the Christian religion, some scholars believe that the story of Jesus Christ’s resurrection was adapted from the Egyptian myth of Osiris, who was also believed to have been murdered and resurrected. Legitimate scholarship or academic conspiracy theory, depending on your point of view. Nonetheless, if I follow Agent Markham correctly, he’s saying that if one were to look for such a god emanating from the Egyptians—that is, a lion god that could have permeated and/or mutated within all the ancient religions represented by the scripts on Donovan and Canning—well, you’re saying such an Egyptian god doesn’t exist, right, Sam?”

“That’s exactly right,” Markham said. “Especially since there is a better candidate that not only can be traced between all the mythologies in question, but that also fits nicely with a return in the spring. Next slide, please.”

Schaap clicked the remote, and the screen wiped into a drawing of what appeared to be two separate stone tablets. The first tablet was divided into three rows, each containing a procession of half-human animal-headed deities. A lion-headed god with strange ears in the center of the bottom row was slightly larger than the rest of the figures. The most terrifying image, however, was at the top: the head of a roaring lion peeking over the border of the tablet itself. The other tablet showed the rear of the lion. It stood on eagle-clawed hindquarters with a pair of large wings on its back.

“What you’re looking at,” Markham said, “is an artist’s rendering of the front and back of the Hell Plaque, or Lamashtu Plaque as some scholars call it. The original is in the Louvre, is made of bronze, and dates from the Neo-Assyrian period between the tenth and seventh centuries BC. It’s believed to be a type of healing artifact that was hung over the bed to ward off sickness. Most scholars agree that the lion-headed figure with the donkey ears at the center of the plaque is the demon Lamashtu, who in ancient times was thought to bring pestilence and disease. The lion-headed figure peeking over the top of the plaque in both the front and rear views is believed to be