The Colonel ran his hand along the black barrel, hefted one end, and sat it back down. “Damn that’s heavy. Can one person fire that thing?”
“I think so.”
“What’s it shoot?”
“This.” Carlos withdrew the shot from his jacket, sat it on the bed next to the cannon. “Shrapnel made from the same stuff as that spear. You can image what it’d do to the Red Lady.”
Judging by the Colonel’s face, he could.
“There’s more.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. The Red Lady, she’s almost to Lethe.”
“What? How’d she—”
“She took the canyon trail.”
“That’s odd. I thought—”
“There’s plenty odd. Listen to this. She’s hurt bad. We’re pretty sure she got in a dustup with Lord Kashaol.”
The Colonel appeared to be having trouble taking this all in.
“This is our chance,” Carlos continued, talking fast, his voice full of excitement. “We set up an ambush in Lethe. Take her now. Take her while she’s hurt. Never gonna get a better chance.”
“Whoa, hold on. You’re saying she had a fight with Kashaol?”
“Pretty sure.”
“Is Kashaol dead? What happened to Veles then?”
Carlos shrugged. “No telling. We didn’t see the fight, didn’t see Veles either. But get this: we did see that redheaded kid, that Chet. Makes me think he’s in on it, y’know. That he somehow led her to the demon. I mean . . . you have to ask yourself how it is he keeps showing up every time there’s trouble.”
The kid still lives, Gavin thought, surprised to find it mattered.
“And you want to go set up an ambush in Lethe of all places?” the Colonel asked.
Carlos nodded. “I do. Here’s why. If Veles is with them, then we know the shape he’s in. I’m just going to assume that kid’s been feeding them information on us. That he’s trying to rally these gods against us. But the one thing I believe they still don’t know is that Lord Horkos is dead. I think they’re headed there in hopes of getting his help. So where do you think they’d least expect us?”
“Lethe,” the Colonel said.
“That’s right.”
“But you’re guessing.”
“I’m gambling, and based on what we know, sure looks like a good bet to me.”
The Colonel stared at the ground. Gavin could see him chewing it over. After a minute he looked back up at Carlos. “What exactly did you have in mind?”
Carlos stuck both thumbs into that oversize scorpion belt buckle of his and smiled. “With the babies and the Red Lady limping like she is, they’re moving slow. That gives us time if we act quick. We bring as many men and muskets as we can ride with, doubling them up on the horses. Can’t be much of a guard left in Lethe. They’ll be headed for the temple, so we just slip in quietly and wait for them there.”
The Colonel thought on it for a minute, then nodded. “Well, being half-crazy has got us this far.” He grinned. “Looks like we’re heading to Lethe.”
CHAPTER 68
Trish felt the contraction building, her abdomen clenching, cramping. She took quick shallow breaths, gritting her teeth and clutching her stomach as the pain rolled over her.
The door opened and Lamia stepped in, the blood of the churchwoman splashed across her white dress. She came to Trish’s side, only concern on her face. “It’s time,” Lamia said, speaking in a gentle, soothing voice. She helped Trish up onto the bed, then left. Trish could hear the quick click of the old woman’s shoes as she hurried down the hall.
Another contraction rolled over Trish, then another. She clawed at the bedsheets as the pain racked her body, each contraction worse than the previous. God, she thought, is it really supposed to be this bad?
When she opened her eyes, Lamia was there with her black box of roots and potions along with a small basket of some freshly pulled leafy plant. She sat the basket on the nightstand, left again, and returned with rags and a pot of steaming water.
Several milder contractions hit Trish in quick succession, then it felt as though her entire stomach were twisting into a knot and not letting go. She let out a cry that turned into a scream.
“Sit up, child,” Lamia said, trying to get Trish into a sitting position.
“No!” Trish yelled, the slightest movement only making the pain worse.
“Trish,” Lamia said in a soft, motherly tone. “It’ll make things easier. Now please. Sit up.”
With Lamia’s help, Trish managed to work herself into a sitting position against the headboard, but found little relief through the next wave of contractions.
Lamia dipped a handful of the leaves into the steaming water and swabbed them across Trish’s forehead, neck, stomach, and breasts, leaving the warm, wet leaves atop her chest. They smelled of mint and black licorice, but somehow were soothing. When the next wave of contractions came, the pain was there, but distant, and Trish found herself able to focus, to push.
“She’s on her way,” Lamia said, her voice full of excitement. “You’re doing well, child.”
Again, the contractions came in waves, each crashing atop the previous, stronger and stronger until Trish felt sure her hips would snap.
“I see her!” Lamia cried. “Now, push. Push, child. Push!”
Trish did, clawing at the sheets as she strained, grunting, yelling through her teeth. All at once the pressure dissipated; it was as though a huge weight had been lifted off her belly. She heard a cry, opened her eyes, and through a blur of tears saw her, saw her little girl.
Lamia cut the birth cord, then took the warm leaves and washed the child. “You did well,” she said, handing the child to Trish, propping her against Trish’s breast, helping the baby to latch on.
The baby began to suckle and for that moment Trish forgot about Lamia, about demons, about the churchwoman lying dead in the driveway. It was just her and her child. Trish began to cry. “My baby. My sweet little baby.”
CHAPTER 69
A low fog crept up from the river as Mother Eye slowly dimmed and the shadows claimed the rugged terrain. Clouds rumbled overhead, but so far the night had been dry. From his vantage point atop the cliff, Carlos watched a lone guard lighting torches along Lethe’s eastward gate.
“They’re back,” the Colonel said.
Carlos put away his scope and stood as two of his men scurried up the rocky trail, returning from Lethe. In their ragged cloaks they looked like any other pilgrims on their way to the river.
“Well?” Carlos asked.
“Not much of anything’s going on,” one of them said, pushing back his hood. “Just the usual parade of sad sacks, most half out of their wits on the drink.”
“Yeah,” the other added. “That place always reminded me of a tomb and right now it’s deader than usual. Most of the guards left with Lord Horkos and we all know where they ended up.”
Carlos nodded. “Any sign anyone knows about Horkos? About the attack?”
“They don’t have a clue. No extra guards or sentries anywhere and the few we talked with sounded ticked off they got left behind.”
Carlos nodded. “Good, just what I was hoping to hear.”
“We’re ready then?” the Colonel said.
“I guess so,” Carlos replied, sucking in a deep breath. “We should start sending the men in.”
The Colonel corralled the group, close to thirty altogether.
“All right,” the Colonel said, addressing the men in a low voice. “Looks like everything’s going to plan. No more than three to a group. Keep your weapons out of sight, blend in, spread out, enter through different gates. If you’re not sure where Temple Lethe is, find someone who does. Once in, we’ll need about half of you up on the balcony. Wait for Carlos’s signal.” He patted the big gun in Carlos’s hand and grinned. “And believe me, you won’t miss it.”
The men began drifting down toward the city in small groups, each leaving several minutes ap
art.
A rider approached from the canyon road and several of the men drew their swords. They hadn’t lit any torches, so it was hard to tell who it was until he was right up on them.
“It’s me, Hugo,” a voice called and Hugo appeared out of the gloom. He dismounted and a man took his horse away, hitching it up with the other mounts. “They’re a good two hours down the trail,” Hugo said. “And get this, Veles is with them.”
Carlos exchanged a look with the Colonel.
“That’s gonna complicate things,” the Colonel said.
“Maybe not,” Hugo said. “The Red Lady and Veles, neither one of them looked very well. The Red Lady is moving even slower than before. Veles is so bad off they’re pushing him along in one of their carts.”
“So, something did happen with Kashaol,” the Colonel said.
“Give half my ba to have seen it,” Hugo said.
“Well, time to finish this business,” the Colonel said, his eyes all but gleaming.
“It sure is,” Carlos said. “It sure as hell is.”
CHAPTER 70
Carlos crossed a short bridge and walked into Temple Lethe. It sat on a small island along the edge of the river. He found a spot within the shadows near the main entrance. It gave him a clear view of the arched passageway. The passageway led to another short bridge—the only way in or out of the pools—so he knew they’d have to pass right before him.
He’d wrapped the heavy weapon in rags to make it look like a bedroll, and now gently set one end on the marble floor, being extra careful, as the weapon wasn’t just heavy, but also packed with the shot and black powder. It was a flintlock, so he didn’t think a hard knock should set it off, but he preferred not to take any chances.
Carlos leaned against the wall, lit up a cigarette, and let his eyes drift about the large chamber. A towering statue of a veiled woman carrying a child stood at the center of the rotunda. The veil covered her face but you could still read her features, see that she was resolute in her purpose. Twin waterfalls gently cascaded down a series of marble ledges on either side of the statue. The sound of falling water reverberated off the white marble walls and up into the dome above.
Souls of every sort lay or sat in heaps upon the steps before the statue. Dozens more lolled about in clusters on the floor, stairs, window ledges, all along the mezzanine and second-floor balconies, spilling out into the courtyards beyond. Souls wandered through staring at the statue, up at the faded paintings in the dome, or out through the tall, narrow windows on the river just below. These were lost souls, missing arms and legs, chunks of their faces, hobbling along, their flesh moldering, turning dark gray and going to rot, souls that had long ago given up. Most of them appeared drunk on Lethe, clutching bottles of the black stuff to their chests, wandering about as though at a wake, whispering and weeping.
Carlos’s men continued to drift in, several of them carrying bottles, shuffling along, playing the part, blending in. They placed themselves to best advantage along the windows and balconies. Guns and swords poked out here and there from beneath their cloaks, but Carlos realized it didn’t matter—no one was paying attention. He’d seen only one patrol since they’d entered the city, and that was a couple of bored-looking sentries back near the city center.
A handful of souls shuffled past. They stumbled down the stairs, out the arched walkway, heading through the short corridor toward the pools. Carlos shifted his position, lining himself up with the corridor. He only had one shot and intended to make it a good one. A moment later the Colonel entered carrying the spear. He’d insisted and this time Carlos hadn’t argued, feeling the Colonel’s usefulness was about up anyway.
The Colonel had smeared the spear tip with mud to hide its golden gleam. He knelt in front of the statue, and in his dirty robe, he looked like any other dispirited pilgrim on his way to oblivion.
Hugo wandered in and took a seat next to Carlos. “We’re all here,” he whispered.
Carlos nodded and marked each man, counted twelve guns along the windows, and the rest up on the balcony. Going to be like shooting fish in a barrel, he thought, then caught sight of Gavin staring at him with cold, dead eyes. Carlos leaned over toward Hugo. “Don’t look, but the Colonel’s man, Gavin, he’s up on the balcony. Be a real shame if in all the confusion a stray bullet just happened to catch him in the back of his ugly head, wouldn’t it?”
“Sure would,” Hugo said, “Probably won’t be needing those guns anymore either. I mean, if he was to get his head blown off, that is.”
“Probably not. I think they’d look real nice sitting in your holsters.”
“Me too,” Hugo said. A moment later he stood and headed up the stairs.
Carlos glanced back up at Gavin and gave him a smile.
CHAPTER 71
Ana crested the rise and there, below, torches outlined the ghostly shape of a city. There was just enough light to see the city was far smaller than Styga.
Mary called a halt to allow the Red Lady to catch up. She’d tried to get the sphinx to stop for the night, but the Red Lady insisted they soldier on. Veles had become so weak they’d finally had to make room in one of the carts for him and now many of them carried infants, including Chet.
The baby in Ana’s arms was awake, fascinated by the procession of torchbearers snaking out along the river path below, stringing out so far as to look like stars twinkling in the night. Ana noticed that the line all headed one way—into the city. She saw very few leaving. Chet and Mary stood watching the marching lights with Ana. “Are they all seeking oblivion?” Ana asked, though she knew they were, knew they were souls like her, come to put an end to this retched existence.
“They’ve all heard of the river’s promise,” Mary said. “Traveling leagues from all realms just so they can enter here, at Temple Lethe. They believe that by paying tribute at the temple or by confessing their wrongs, their regrets here, the river will ensure their safe journey into oblivion.”
“And you . . . do you believe that?”
“Some say the river sends them away into nothingness forever . . . oblivion . . . it is what so many seek. Others believe the river cleanses the soul of all past memories and guides it back to earth to be reborn. I’m not sure how that is different.”
“But what do you believe?”
Mary looked at her. “I believe Lethe smiles on the children. Beyond that, I don’t know.”
Ana nodded, then noticed a faint fiery glow far in the distance from the way they’d come. It pulsed like a heartbeat and there was something ominous about that pulse; it seemed a hungry thing. “Is that Hell back there?”
Mary nodded. “We have Hell on our southern border, Jahannam east of Mother Eye, Naraka pressing in from the north. All seizing what they can. It is hard to understand, with all the vast underworld, why they are so intent on squeezing out the old gods. Veles says it’s because the five rivers meet here. I feel it’s because the One Gods and their devils are never satisfied with what they have. Once I saw Kali marching across the northern plains as though they were her own, tall as a ship mast, flaming swords in her six hands, the heads of a hundred demons around her neck . . . all singing her song of death. It is a scene I hope never to witness again.” She shuddered. “But if the ancients lose the great Sekhmet, the Eye of Ra, their protector, then there is little in the way of such as Kali.”
“Sekhmet, that’s . . . the Red Lady?”
“Yes. She has many names. Long ago, Ra and the other ancient ones combined their powers and created her to guard their realms, but as they fade, so I fear does the Red Lady’s might.”
The Red Lady crested the hill. She appeared weak, but resolute.
“You made it,” Mary said. “All but killed yourself doing it, but you made it.”
A weak smile poked at the corners of the sphinx’s mouth, but there was no humor in her eyes, only fire. She didn’t stop, just continued down the trail.
Mary let out a sigh and followed. “The ka doesn’t bind the
same as god-blood. With time she will heal, but not if she keeps pushing.”
They made their way to the river road, falling in line with the pilgrims as they approached a large gate.
A guard leaned upon the wall, staring mindlessly out into the darkness.
The Red Lady cleared her throat and the guard glanced up, all but dropping her spear upon seeing the sphinx. She made a slight bow, stopped. “Hey . . . are you okay? Oh, gracious, what’s happened?” She looked to Mary. “What happened to her?”
“Demons,” Mary said. “Now, tell us quick, where’s Lord Horkos?”
“He’s away. Gone to the Gathering.”
“Horkos was not at the Gathering,” Veles said, pushing himself up out of the cart.
The guard appeared confused. “He must’ve been. He left several days ago.”
Veles met Mary’s eyes. “This does not bode well.”
“Has there been any sign of trouble?” Mary asked the guard.
“Trouble? Here? No, of course not. Why? What’s happened?”
“We’re not sure. Look, keep an eye out for any armed men.”
“I don’t understand.”
“It doesn’t matter. You see anything suspicious, you ring the alarm. Understand?”
The guard nodded.
“Okay,” Mary said, speaking directly to Veles. “Let’s go to the temple. Find one of the priests. They might be able to aid you and the Red Lady.”
Veles nodded and they headed into the city.
Ana found Lethe to be very different than Styga, quiet, solemn, with no real sign of commerce. The dim lanterns gave off just enough light to guide them down the maze of narrow, winding cobblestone streets. They passed rows of windowless buildings, most of which were carved directly into the white stone of the surrounding rock. Ana caught movement in the shadows, among the piles of trash. She heard murmuring and realized the piles weren’t trash, but souls, clustered together in the alleys and along the gutters.