He cut his eyes to the candlelit scene at the end of the long narrow room. A coffin, lid open, rested on a bier, on deep black velvet. The body that lay with its hands folded across its stomach was pale, the lips bloodless. It took but one look to tell there was no life left within the beautiful corpse, or who it was lying there.
Nydia.
Sam's fragile world spun madly for a few seconds, almost dropping him to the carpet. He maintained control, rubbing his face with shaky, sweaty hands. He took several steps closer to the casket, nearer to the dreaded sight, hoping all this was some awful joke. It was not. Nydia was dead.
Roma and Falcon came to his side. He looked at them closely: their faces were pale and drawn, with real worry lines creasing their brows.
Sam touched Nydia's hand. Cold and dead. He withdrew his fingers.
'We are sorry,' Falcon said, his voice deep and sepulchral.
'Yes,' Roma echoed his sentiments. 'Even though we … are worlds apart in worshiping Masters, she was my daughter, from my womb, and I loved her, in my own strange way.'
'How … ?' Sam started to ask.
'Time enough for that,' Falcon verbally restrained him. 'But suffice to say, we had nothing to do with Nydia's … untimely demise. And we both beg you to believe that.'
'But you were going to kill us both!' Sam protested, once more touching Nydia's cold flesh. He shuddered.
'So how can you expect me to believe you had nothing to do with … this?'
They gently led him from the scene of tragic young death.
'Oh, no, no,' Roma objected. 'No … those were hollow threats … only that, nothing more. We wanted you both on our side … worshiping our Master, but by all that you believe in, do you think I would plot the death of my own daughter? My own flesh and blood? How ghastly, Sam! Cajole, threaten, bluff … and yes, I will admit it, even rape … but death? No, Sam … no.'
'Ridiculous!' Falcon's look was both stern and filled with sorrow, perhaps even a touch of outrage at such a suggestion.
Across the room, and on both sides, the chairs were filled with Coven members, but they did not at all resemble the men and women Sam had witnessed prior to this; none of them wore the arrogance previously exhibited on their faces. Jimmy Perkins broke into wracking sobs; soon others joined him, the sounds of weeping almost drowning out the soft, sad music.
'You look exhausted, Sam,' Falcon said. Roma put a soft, perfumed hand on the young man's arm. 'Let my wife get you some coffee, something to eat, perhaps, and you can tell us where you've been for hours.'
'You don't know?' Sam asked.
'No,' her reply was open and honest. Sam searched her face for a sign of a lie, but could find none. 'How could we know?'
'But you people did that!' he almost shouted the words, pointing toward the open casket.
Her face registered her shock. 'No, Sam ... we didn't. Falcon was telling the truth. We did not. But our Master did.'
'Satan?'
'That … pig!' Roma spat the word with such venomous hatred Sam was stunned. She spoke it as if clearing her mouth of something nasty.
'But he is your God, your Master,' Sam said. 'How can you call him a pig?'
'He may or may not be our Master,' Falcon injected. 'That is something we both want to speak to you about. But first,' he sighed, 'I must go offer my apologies to Nydia. Whether she can hear them or not, it is something I must do.' He walked to the casket and gazed down at the face of death. There were tears rolling down his cheeks. Genuine tears.
'I … don't understand,' Sam said.
'Is it too late for us?' Roma asked, all the while gently leading the young man to a room off the large mourning room. There she sat him on a couch and shut the door behind her, blocking out all sounds of the weeping, the sad melodious notes of the organ; only the soft scent of incense remained.
'All that,' Roma flung her arm toward the door and the scene behind it, 'has come home to us, Sam. Reluctantly, at first, I have to admit it, but finally with more conviction than I have felt in … well, might as well be truthful, hundreds of years. I began to admire your God.'
Sam stood up. 'This is a trick!' He turned to leave the room.
The sounds of Roma's weeping stopped him. He turned, real tears were streaming from her eyes. 'Oh, Sam, I'm so confused. I don't know what to do, where to turn. None of us do. Do you think we would be, to a person, weeping and mourning if we did not feel a terrible sense of loss and of guilt over this tragedy? We have spoken of nothing else for hours: repentance, the coldbloodedness of the creature we worshiped, yes, even admired for centuries. We want,' she sighed, '… out.'
Sam returned to his seat on the couch, beside Roma. 'I don't know what I can do.'
'Nydia said you took her into the arms of your God. Can't you do the same for us?'
'Baptize you?'
'If that is what it takes, yes.'
'You would have to renounce all other gods, and you would have to be sincere in that renunciation, for my God can see into your hearts.'
'I know,' she said softly. 'And for Falcon and myself, and a few of the others, it would mean instant death. We
