Not this time, little sister.
The golden, glowing hands over hers made her drop the pistol--made her reach to the side, and take a book from a shelf there--a very, very, heavy book, which must have weighed several pounds, encased in a silver-chased cover.
A Bible?
--and throw it.
It landed squarely on the monster.
There was a flash of light that was somehow black, a scream that cut through Kat's skull so that she clapped both empty hands over her ears in a futile attempt to block it out.
Then there was nothing.
Nothing but a silver-chased Bible in the floor, and a snaky black smudge on the marble.
Hmm. What's appropriate, I wonder? 'A little knowledge is a dangerous thing?' 'The Word is mightier than the blade?' Ah, I know! 'Let Evil beware the Weight of the Word of God!'
There was--a golden laugh that washed through her, erasing the pain that the scream had left behind, and the feeling of uncleanliness. Then the presence was gone.
Kat shivered convulsively. Then . . . saw the candles in the magic circle suddenly snuff out, saw the air suddenly clear, and the glittering circles of power fade to nothing more than the silver and gold inlaid on the floor.
'Oh God--Marco!' She pushed forward past Luciano's body. Marco lay still and cold, with the blade still pressed into his breast. Katerina had the impression of a misty and insubstantial gold crown on his head. But the image faded almost instantly, and she had no time to think about it. She tugged at the hateful, fateful dagger. It fell and snapped as if it had been made of the finest Venetian glass. She stared. There was no blood. She ripped at his shirt, scattering buttons.
Marco's chest had a tiny, V-shaped cut on it--not a fingernail deep. Kat seized his wrists. She was shaking too badly to feel for a pulse. She pressed her ear to his chest. After a terrible instant of fear--silence!--then she heard his heart beating. Beating steadily.
Suddenly, Marco breathed deeply and put his arms around her. She clung to him like a drowning woman.
'I can never leave here, you know,' he said softly. 'He said so. I have to stay, or he can't protect Venice.'
She burrowed against his chest, not giving a damn who he was. 'I will never leave here then, either.'
* * *
It was Benito who found them, nearly an hour later. He walked in and stared at the two of them.
'Thank God Claudia knew where this place was. Otherwise you two lovebirds might still have been here tomorrow. Tore the shirt off him, eh, Kat?' He was grinning broadly. 'I must get Maria to have a little talk with you, girl. Tearing the breeches off him is much more satisfying for everyone.'
'Benito!' roared Marco.
It was a real roar. The windows rattled.
Benito started at the sound, but the grin stayed on his face even if it became a little less broad.
But as he looked around, studying the room, the grin faded away. The bodies. The paraphernalia.
'So I didn't imagine the Lion,' he said quietly. 'I think you two had better get out of here, before someone else finds you. I've got news for the two of you; besides that, Dorma and Montescue are both searching frantically for you.'
They got up. 'Tell, Benito,' said Kat. 'What's happened?'
Benito managed another grin. 'Well, lots of stuff. The Doge has stopped slipping into a coma, but he's really weak. He's offered his resignation, as he says the city needs a strong Doge in these times. I reckon Petro will be chosen, even as young as he is. A boat's just come in from Chioggia. Grandfather Dell'este and the Knights of the Holy Trinity and the boys in the Polestine forts made my father and his army head back to Milan.' His good cheer faded. 'But it looks as if Caesare Aldanto managed to escape.'
