hands were thick at the wrist, with elegantly tapered fingers that waved in the air with talon-sharp nails of deep yellow. The legs were bent at the knees, hiding their length and width. The feet were webbed between stubbed toes that were curved into claws at the ends. From the pronounced backbone two white, withered wings hung forlornly, as though distant relatives long forgotten.
By far the worst aspect was the eyes. Burning red like the hot fires of Hell, they flared with anger and hatred. Ceaselessly open, with no lids or lashes, they were pools of evil that beckoned like beauty to embrace them.
The voice, when deMarco spoke, was, like the body, devoid of the cultured facade he had adopted. ‘How the devil are you, Carter? Welcome to my future.’
Without warning Carter felt his left arm rise from his side until it was pointing at right angles to his shoulder. Then the right arm did the same until he was standing in front of the altar, his arms outstretched as if crucified.
‘An undignified pose I grant you; but it serves my purpose,’ deMarco said.
Bayliss was terrified but brave enough to step between deMarco and Carter. When he was closer to Carter he could see the effort and energy he was extending to resist. ‘You’re not Satan,’ he said. His tone was challenging, hiding the fear he felt. ‘Nothing I’ve read about you suggested anything other than you as an acolyte, another wannabe Satanist with delusions of grandeur.’
DeMarco laughed, a brittle sound of torn metal. He flashed his red eyes and Bayliss slumped to his knees, the pain in his chest so fierce he could hardly breathe. ‘Hurts, doesn’t it? That’s just the onset of the pain you’ll feel in about ten years when the lung cancer spreads to your liver. If you live that long. You really should have given up the cigarettes and the whisky, you know; don’t you read the packets?
Carter was being held and stretched. His arms were flung wide now, his chest straining against the force holding him.
Most of the people in the pews were released by now, and they stood with the others freed from the walls in a vast crowd, expectant, swaying slightly. The shrouded figures were placed at intervals on the periphery of the crowd, ready to herd them when deMarco instructed.
Kirby was helping Bayliss to his feet, pain and breathlessness etching lines into his face that hadn’t been there before. McKinley was delicately trying to probe inside Carter’s mind, feeling for the force that was controlling him.
‘Nick Bayliss is regrettably correct. Although I do seem to fit most of the characteristics, I am but a humble servant. Loyal and determined but a mere employee; and with few corporate benefits either…ah, well, eternal life has its compensations I suppose. But down to business; I needed you, Carter, for your mind; linking it with mine, along the Ley we are standing on will allow me to generate sufficient power to summon…you called him Satan, Bayliss. I call him Father.’
With sudden speed deMarco stalked down the aisle and grasped Carter’s left hand. The sparks that flew when their skin touched were like a power cable striking water. Carter flinched as if a dozen knives were penetrating his spine, and his organs felt as if they were swelling within him as the surge from deMarco began to build.
Before McKinley could attack him deMarco shouted to the gray-shrouded creatures at the back of the cathedral and seven or eight of them leapt upon McKinley, pinning his arms to the ground, covering his face with the drapes of their robes.
‘And now we can begin the Ascent,’ deMarco said, elation tingeing his voice.
As Carter braced himself, searching for an opening to exert resistance, there was a loud crash and one wall of the cathedral burst open, like the parting of the Red Sea. Through the wall poured hundreds of people, some holding incense burners, others flicking water from ornate containers, others reciting passages from the Bible.
With their attention diverted McKinley took his opportunity to free himself, his large frame and strength easily overpowering the bony creatures.
Carter felt deMarco yield and he managed to loosen the grip, but the force holding him in place was too strong and his arms remained outstretched, even when deMarco released his hand, watching as the wave of people flooded the cathedral.
The cathedral was now awash with people. Those nakedly released from storage milled zombielike, spilling out along the pews as the newcomers marched in, forcing the others back.
The shrouded followers of deMarco massed in front of them, two forces setting themselves for battle. Prowling like a caged tiger deMarco walked a few feet one way, turned, and stormed back. He was searching the intruders for someone he knew would be there; someone who
Then he saw him. ‘Meyer!’ he shouted. ‘Klaus Meyer.’
‘
‘Muscular Christianity,’ Kirby murmured.
McKinley shook his head. ‘That isn’t any German. I’ve seen that guy’s picture in magazines back home. That’s Carl Anderson. He’s the father of Jessica Anderson, the woman Crozier introduced to us.’
An uncertain silence fell over the cathedral.
Meyer motioned his troops to be still and wait. He walked past the shrouded guards and advanced on deMarco. For his part deMarco moved past the font to meet him.
With a guttural growl of greeting, deMarco said, ‘Klaus Meyer, after all these years.’
Meyer gave a small inclination of his head and shoulders in a bow of acknowledgement. ‘I’ve gone by the name of Carl Anderson for the past sixty or so years, a successful businessman in America. Before that I was Clint Sybert, a respected surgeon working out of Canada. Before that I was in Europe, but these details are not of importance.’
With a wave of his hand deMarco offered disagreement. ‘On the contrary old friend…’
Meyer took two steps forward, his temples throbbing with anger. ‘Do not, ever, call me
‘How is your lovely daughter?’
‘Jessica was a wonderful daughter in many ways but she was under your spell since the day she was born. I always knew it but she was my only daughter, and I loved her, even though I knew her every action was to serve you. It took much pleading with His Holiness to allow it, but eventually I was able to recruit women into my Jesuit order. So long as they remained a separate order the break with tradition was overlooked. My sister Celeste Toland formed the Sorority and Jessica joined eagerly, imagining I expect that she would be pleasing you by keeping close to the enemy. That is what you made my own daughter, deMarco, my enemy. No one ever suspected, not even Jessica, that Celeste and I are siblings; we managed to exude a facade of personal loathing. To the outside world we disliked each other intensely. Celeste and I did business together but because of our supposed hatred for one another, Jessica conducted those transactions. It helped Celeste keep track of what Jessica was doing in recent months. Perhaps having a fling with her was taking things a bit far, but Celeste gets wrapped up in her work.’
‘And the ladies are with you?’
‘All except Jessica; she can’t attend, she didn’t have time to send her regrets. But as you can see from my many companions, you are not the only one who has been assembling an army of followers.’
Carter tried once more to free himself but deMarco still held him firm. His whole left side was frozen by what ever power deMarco was exerting on him. Then, without warning, Carter felt a fierce surge down the right side of his body. Another force was joining in the control of him. As the right side and the left side burned with the intrusion it felt as if his body was being pulled in different directions.
Meyer had joined deMarco and they were using Carter’s powers as a conduit; battle had commenced. Meyer pulling in one direction, deMarco in the other.
DeMarco turned his back on Meyer; it was the signal. Heavy black rain began to fall from the ceiling, pricking skin with needle-sharp points where it touched. The floor began to vibrate, and then started to ripple like waves upon the shore.
