Greta struggled to suppress another scream. What in heaven’s name was happening? She was trapped inside a nightmare! All that prevented her from going insane was her son and making sure nothing happened to him. Slowly, her whole body shaking, she walked toward Sebastian, who was just waking from his shock. He began staggering toward her, his little arms outstretched.
“Mama!” he whined. “Mama . . . scared . . . bad kitty.”
“Oh God, don’t move, Sebastian!” implored Greta, trying to keep her eyes on both panthers at once. “Stop where you are! Mama is nearly there.”
The panther by the railing seemed indecisive as to which prey was more tempting: the small, easy boy or the man trying to block its way. The animal hissed and growled, shifting its weight from paw to paw, its tail lashing across the stone floor. Johann waved his arms about wildly and roared at the big cat.
“Come on, you devil! You want human flesh? Then come and get mine! I promise you, it is as poisonous as a viper!” Johann also hissed and bared his teeth.
Greta thought it looked as though two equal beasts were facing each other, demons from a dark world that wasn’t her own.
“Come and get me!” yelled Faust. “Jump!”
And the panther did.
The beast looked like a black shadow, blacker than the night that was illuminated by countless rockets. For a few seconds, Greta felt like everything happened much more slowly. She saw the panther’s muscles tense as it leaped forward, flying toward the balustrade. She watched as Johann dropped to the ground at the very last moment. The cat vaulted right across him.
It seemed to hover in midair for a tiny instant.
And then it was gone, swallowed up by the darkness.
“Go to hell, you filthy cur!” gasped Johann. He got to his feet and peered into the depths beyond the balustrade. “Claws and teeth, but a brain the size of a walnut.”
His hands clasped the stone railing as he breathed heavily. Greta was about to rush toward Sebastian and wrap her arms around him when Karl yelled out.
“Greta, watch out! He’s right behind you!”
The second panther! thought Greta.
She felt a shove in her back that made her stagger. It was not the panther but Hagen, who was storming past her, reaching for Sebastian. He yanked the screaming boy up by his legs and lifted him into the air head down. In the other hand the giant was holding his bloodstained sword. His leather trousers were torn, showing the gaping wound beneath, but he managed to stay on his feet.
“Not another step,” growled Hagen. “Or I’ll toss this whining bastard over the edge. I doubt he knows how to fly, even if his grandfather is a sorcerer.”
Greta froze. Her son was just a couple of yards away from her, crying and whimpering and calling for his mother. But she couldn’t help him—not now. Beside the dead pope lay the second panther, its skull split by Hagen’s sword. Leo himself was barely recognizable, his throat ripped, his face a bloody mass.
The devil took the pope, thought Greta.
Cautiously she tried to bring Hagen to his senses. “Give me my son,” she said to him. “Please! I don’t know what’s going on here. I only know that Sebastian is an innocent child who has nothing to do with any of this.”
“A child with a certain value,” replied Hagen with a smirk, weighing the whimpering bundle as if he were a sack of gold.
“We can’t stop you from fleeing,” said Karl, who had walked up beside Greta. He seemed shaken but unhurt. “We are unarmed. You don’t need the child as a hostage—you can just go.”
Hagen raised both eyebrows. “I’m afraid you don’t understand. I don’t want the child for a hostage. I’m going to bring it to someone who appreciates my work. Someone who is going to pay well for the little one—very well.” He bared his teeth. “The high and mighty often make the mistake of underestimating the likes of us. They think we’re nothing but dumb soldiers, waving our swords about and incapable of adding two and two. But I figured out long ago who is truly in charge here at Castel Sant’Angelo. It isn’t the pope—oh no! Hasn’t been for a long time.” He laughed. “I think Lahnstein had a hunch. But one must always remain a step ahead, that’s what I learned at war. I know where the master is waiting, and I’m going to bring him the boy.” Hagen pointed his sword toward the bloody corpse of the pope. “I’ll have to find a new master, anyhow. An even more powerful one. Now please excuse me. It’s time to disappear before the guards discover this mess.”
Without taking his eyes off Greta, Johann, and Karl, Hagen walked to the stairs with the crying and squirming child in his hand. He was limping, dragging his right leg. Slowly he stepped into the corridor and closed the door behind him.
Bolts were pushed across and locks clicked shut. But even through the heavy iron door Greta could hear the cries of her son for a long time, calling for his mother.
They were growing fainter and, eventually, all was quiet.
Greta only noticed now that the rockets had ceased. After all the noise, an eerie silence spread across the terrace.
The fireworks were over.
Johann leaned against the balustrade and noticed that his face felt damp and warm. When he brushed his hand across his forehead, it came off wet with blood. Evidently, the panther had still caught him with one of its paws before falling to its death. Johann gazed at the chaos upon the platform. It looked indeed as if they had invoked some kind of demon. Between the charred scaffolding, knocked-over firepots, and
