Seraphim (53 page)

Fluttering down, he reached a level spot. Then, with something fast approaching revulsion, he began scrutinizing the voices.

“...finished, Eli, finished, you’re finished...” said the voices. Pustules were taking the shapes of faces, the faces of demons, declaring, “...you’re finished, Eli, finished...”

“Be gone!” Eli commanded, but the images remained, squirming in delight, as did their decrees, rising in his ears.

“Be gone!” he cried again. “Be gone, all of you!”

Stymied, Eli considered the possibility that the demons inside his wings were artifacts of this new world he was in, were demonstrations of the kind of skullduggery he should no less expect in a carnival world where Gamble was ringmaster. Perhaps, he thought, if he were to change the venue back to a more earthly flavor he could banish the intruders. He imagined the first place that came to his mind—

Instantly, surrealistically, the goblin world gave way to that of the Pacific Northwest, the very landscape that saw his evolution from pawn to king.

The surf below him washed loudly against the rocky shore, but still did not drown out the jeers issuing from his wings.

“...finished, Eli, finished, you’re finished...”

Eli clamped his hands over his ears, tightly closed his eyes, then fancied the only thing left he could think of.

He envisioned the wings gone from his back.

12.

The change had come like a breakneck wind, an astounding storm of transformation sweeping across horizon to horizon, so swiftly that the eye could barely keep up. The sanguine purple of twilight had given way to the warm yellow light of a mid-afternoon sun. The air, now redolent of moss and rain and dirt, still crackled as if statically charged.

Up ahead, Emilio Chavez had stopped; was signaling with both hands for them to hurry.

Duncan nearly tripped and fell, the ground suddenly thick with fern and vine. They were in a forest of Douglas fir and hemlock, and Duncan’s instinct was telling him that, for whatever reason, the priest—not Gamble—had changed their surroundings into his old stomping grounds, the coastal regions of Washington State.

And damned if it wasn’t to the T, he thought, right down to pesky mosquitoes. The world before seemed almost cardboard in comparison; had lacked a particular depth, the atmosphere almost antiseptic. The scenery before them now was so real that Duncan wondered if the priest had not just imagined their surroundings into being, but had literally brought the real thing to them somehow.

There were running footsteps behind them. Duncan looked back, expecting Gamble to be in fast pursuit. But it wasn’t Gamble. It was Kathy and Juanita.

Jesus Christ, that was all he needed.

“Just what the hell are you two doing?” he said.

“You’ll get lost without me,” Kathy said.

“In case you haven’t been paying attention, we were already lost the moment we entered this damned place.”

Winded, gasping for breath, Juanita said, “I go where Kathy goes.”

As Kathy approached Duncan, she said, “There’s a stable not too far ahead. We need to get there.”

Finally catching up with Kathy, Juanita bent over and placed her hands on her knees, gasping.

Up ahead some thirty yards, Chris had caught up with Emilio.

Duncan nodded toward the boy. “The seraph’s inside Emilio, right?”

Kathy shrugged. “Could be.”

“But Gamble thinks it’s in Emilio, too.”

“No,” she said. “He believes it’s in you.”

After Juanita had caught her breath, they started walking. “What do you believe?” Duncan said.

“Only that it’s close,” she said. “Very close.”

Juanita said, “Thee seraph’s our only hope, isn’t it?”

“Yes.”

They stopped in front of Emilio. The boy appeared frightened out of his mind, and was signing briskly.

“Slow down, dude,” Chris said.

To Kathy, Duncan said, “What’s he saying?”

Kathy watched him for a moment, then said, “He wants to wake up.”

“Don’t we all,” Duncan said. “How does Gamble plan to get his daughter from you?”

Kathy explained that Gamble would try using the priest first, and that would buy them some time. But that once the priest failed, and she was most assured he would as there was already a contingency plan in affect for him, Gamble would most likely come after her himself, or that his daughters would, and that either scenario was not a comforting one.

“Where’s this stable you were talking about?” Duncan said.

She pointed. “Just over the hill.”

“What’s so special there? Horses?”

“No,” she said. “It’s long abandoned. But there’s a tunnel there we can hide in.”

“I don’t think a tunnel is going to hide us very well from Gamble,” he said.

She took Emilio’s hand and started walking. “It’ll do, for now.”

“Hold up a second,” Duncan said. “I’m confused. How did you know about the stable in the first place? I mean, how did you know the world was going to change from Dali’s Africa to the Pacific Northwest, let alone know the neighborhood?”

“Amy told me.”

“Okay, then how did she know?”

“She’s an angel.”

Duncan rolled his eyes. “Oh, of course. How silly of me.”

13.

Naked, Amy stared at the thousands of dead worms cloaking her, plaintive over Melanie’s loss.

She crinkled her nose, the putrid smell overpowering.

“For a sneaky little bitch,” Gamble said, suddenly perched on a low, thick branch above her, “you sure can play the organ. Forgive my surprise, but it’s just that I thought a harp would have been your instrument of choice.”

“Sticks and stones,” Amy replied, not bothering to look up. “Besides, you put on some show yourself.
‘I distilled its blood and made oil for the creaking cogs of time’…‘I was there and wove its suffering cries into chain mail.’
Give me a break.” She finally turned, loathing him. “But what you did to those five boys was inexcusable.”

He laughed. “All for Chris’s benefit. And Juanita’s, to be sure. Oh, how I do love a melodrama. And judging by that spiffy cape you were wearing, and its incriminating intentions, one might suspect that you have a penchant for theatrics, as well—all because we wouldn’t want to raise anyone’s suspicions that there might be something going on between us, right, Liberace? Don’t forget, my stage mask may be tragedy—but not nearly as tragic as the truth that I did, in fact, slaughter all but one of your ancestors.”

She stared up at him now, grinning. “And you almost screwed it for yourself, didn’t you? Found out almost too late that the only way you were ever going to get the Key to the Shallows was through one of the seraphs. After rifling through God’s pockets—and don’t think for a second that it never crossed my mind that you would,
despite
your promise to the contrary—you found that even
He
doesn’t own a set. So now I’m your only hope of ever seeing eternal rein. At least in your manmade part of the kingdom.”

“Only temporary housing,” he assured, then jumped from the tree. “Need I remind you what a real sport I’ve been throughout this whole affair? I’ve refrained from making things difficult. And don’t
you
think for a second that it never crossed
my
industrious mind to do so. I’ve obliged you in every way, half-breed. I’ve left your proxy family virtually untouched, along with your globular maid, who believes she’s on some holy crusade for the Virgin Mary. And not only have I refrained from turning Chris and his surfboard into chum, I’ve left Patricia Bently alone with her grief.” He stepped closer, his lips stretching across his face. “But now, you show up in Wonderland and allow Chris to hook your housekeeper up to something that, I strongly suspect, might be integral to finding the seraph’s whereabouts. Now, why you would entrust such a power to a flabby fleshsack such as Juanita?”

“You play your little games,” she said. “We play ours.”

“Yes, but the simple fact is, I’m tiring of the games,” he said, angrier now.

She finally stood and wheeled on him. “I said you could have your apocalypse in exchange for your promise to leave God alone.”

“It’s not the Almighty I’m after,” he said, “as you so very well know. Furthermore, in light of your own deceitful ways, I believe it’s time you confirm for me the whereabouts of the last seraph. That, or personally give me the Key, or give me back my remaining daughter. If you don’t comply to any of these requests, then I’ll have no other choice but to end this miserable stalemate by finally destroying you and your mongrel cousins, and your merry band of misfits.”

She laughed. “And forever lose the Shallows? I hardly think so. Besides, if you really think you can take us on, then you’d better pack a lunch. You just might discover that we’re not the pushovers of old.”

“I might be testing that theory sooner than you think.” He grinned. “The seraph, the Key, or my daughter. If you really want to score some points, all of the above.”

“Even with seven, you have nothing,” she lied.

“Oh, I heartily disagree,” he said. “Seven’s such a magical number.”

“Look, I’ve stuck to my end of the deal by letting you have your Armageddon. Do to the world what you may. But if you break your end of the deal again by harassing God, and that goes for the clone god, too, or try and remove your daughter from Katherine, then my ‘mongrel cousins’ will remodel your world so completely that even your memory won’t reflect on the newly waxed floors.”

“Oh, please. And if
memory
serves me correctly, you’ve yet to answer the question I posed in the beginning. Why would God appoint a bunch of conscientious objectors to guard the Shallows and its eternal waters?”

Amy didn’t answer.

“I’ll tell you why,” Gamble said. “Because He never perceived my kind of threat. And let me remind you, sweet little Amy, that your tinkering of so-called time has yet to yield the desired results. I am still here, yes? And we both know that the more you indulge that fallacy-laden concept, the more degraded it will become until, finally, you will no longer be able to navigate within its stream effectively.” He brushed his right fingers against the material of his jacket, taking a moment to admire his nails’ restored luster. “As for God and your pacifistic subordinates, well...they don’t even register on my shit meter.”

Amy sighed. “Are you finished?”

“Not yet,” he said. “You see, I’ve begun realizing that the reasons for your ventures in ‘time’ aren’t all what I initially thought them to be. For instance, that each trip has been an exercise in deception, to hide the seraph in a new place, and always in a different time, simply to keep me guessing. But what you’ve really been doing is trying to teach an old dog new tricks. Like letting it live inside a juvenile delinquent of some caliber. Oh yes, I know all about the boy, among many others. Of course, since I don’t share this miscreant ability of yours, I’ll be left to my own suspicions. As for the last seraph, I believe that it remains in your father. Oh, I imagine that it ventures out from time to time, as I’ve just proposed, but it roosts there. You see, I’ve searched every other mind in existence, and Daddy Duncan’s is the only one I can’t get in. I’ve run into minds like his before, down through the years. I know the game.”

Amy said nothing.

“Gotta hand it to him, though,” he continued, “that’s one hell of a wall he’s built. Just like the boy had at one time. But now I really do believe there’s a fortress behind those battlements, and not just subterfuge. And do you know what? I think I may have finally found a way to scale those walls and rescue the maiden from the tower.”

“Not without my help, you can’t.”

“Ooooh, Mommy, I’m scared,” he said, shivering. “We used to call the seraphs the poltroons of creation, the whales of eternity. But you and I and that one remaining seraph all have something in common. Although the womb within which you were conceived was a biological one, mine idealistic, and the last seraph’s, I suspect, now a combination of both, we all share the same mother, more or less.” He folded his arms proudly. “The stork dropped us all on the doorstep of Man.”

“The point is, you can’t be sure. And when you finally do realize just what did happen with the last seraph, you’ll be begging it to pull its foot out of your ass.”

“I sincerely doubt it,” he said. “Just like you, it hasn’t the nerve, despite your efforts to teach it aggression. Its heart is simply not in the game.” He adjusted the knot in his tie. “Now, as you can see, I’ve gained my sixth daughter. All I have left to do is get my remaining daughter from that fleshsack Katherine.” He shook his finger. “Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice...

“Now, if you ever want to see your friends and family again in one piece, adhere to my requests.”

She glowered at him. “If you so much as look at them wrong—”

“My dear angel, your threats have become as wearisome as your attempts at hiding the seraph. I now have Duncan where I want him, as well as Katherine Bently.”

She bowed her head. “I’m tired, Gamble. I just want an end to the whole damn thing.”

“I thought hell would have come to your rescue by now,” he said. “Seems I gave those boys more credit than they deserve.”

“You just haven’t backed me far enough into a corner yet,” she said. “But I don’t want things to go that far. That’s an IOU I can live without.”

“I imagine it is,” he said. “Come, let’s make a deal. You give me Katherine and unimpeded access to the Shallows, and I’ll let you and the rest of your half-breed family have God and all the acres of heaven. You have my word, as a gentleman.”

“Your word as a gentleman, to leave God alone? Both of them?”

He placed a hand over his heart. “My word.”

“Alright,” she said. “You can have Katherine. As you know, the Key to the Shallows can only be gotten from the seraph. Juanita is the only one who can release it. We’ll meet you at priest’s old launching pad.”

“You do know that I’ll have to kill it to get the Key.”

She met his gaze. “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Just so long as you are.” He smiled winningly. “Very well, then. At the cliffs. Bring everyone. It’ll be a party.” He began walking away. “Oh, and one more thing—put on some clothes. You wouldn’t want to embarrass Mummy and Daddy, would you?”