Chapter 49: Not all Those Who Wander are Lost part 1
"God in Heaven Kurt! What ever is the matter?"
Kurt ran up the hill towards the church without paying attention to where he was going. He just wanted to get as far away from Azazel as possible. When he reached one of the church's stone walls he teleported without slowing down to think. He materialized inside the church, his momentum carrying him into the back row of pews so that he nearly knocked them over. He dropped to his knees, breathing hard with his eyes shut. When Kurt opened them the first thing he saw was the giant crucifix that hung above the altar and he thought he was having visions. It was a moment before Kurt realized that he had teleported into the church. He had been so upset by Azazel that he hadn't been looking where he was going.
Mentally chastising himself for such sloppiness, he stood up and walked into the center of the nave.
He'd always loved this church. It was the first one he had ever seen and it was still his favorite despite having been in dozens of churches all over Europe. Maybe it was leftover childhood superstition, but of all the churches, he was sure that this was the one that God truly lived in.
God.
Should he even be here now? Would God forsake him now that he had discovered the truth, that he really was the child of a demon, that his destiny was to speak for the archangel Azazel? A more chilling thought was that perhaps God had forsaken him years ago. After all, he had spent his entire life thinking that God had favored him, that God had engineered his birth, his being found by Margali and the circus; that all the good things that had been in his life were a direct result of God's influence. It was a little haughty, be then again he was so different than anyone else, it had only seemed right to assume that God had something particular in mind for him.
But now he knew the truth, that God hadn't been responsible; Azazel had. Everything that Kurt had known to be true; that he was special, that God loved him, that God had looked out for him on the day he was brought into the world, was a lie.
He had been walking up the nave towards the altar as he contemplated the influences over his life and stopped when he stood before the long table with its candlesticks. The crucifix hung above him. Christ had died for their sins, Kurt had believed it from the moment he saw him when he was eight years old, but not for his. His destiny was to serve sin. It was almost too much to bear and when he felt that he could endure no more, he lashed out, knocking over the table and screaming.
What he was yelling was unintelligible even to himself. The mix of rage, and horror, and revulsion he felt couldn't be put into words. How could God abandon him like this? How could it happen here of all places?
Sobbing, Kurt sank down next to the upturned table. He had never felt so lost. He started to cry, quietly at first until he was wailing at the top of his lungs like he hadn't done since he was a very young child. Sorrow had pierced him to the core and it didn't seem like he could ever stop.
Father Dietrich stood outside the church door, frantically fumbling with his keys. He'd heard the screams from within the rectory. Something horrible was happening inside his church and he had hardly stopped other than to throw on something more presentable than his pajamas and a pair of shoes. He'd been surprised to find the doors locked and no sign of entry. But the screaming continued and so with shaking hands he slid the key in the lock and turned it.
The church was empty save for the sound of sobbing. There wasn't a living soul inside, at least not that he could see. Father Dietrich followed the sound down the center aisle of the nave to the altar. It wasn't until he was nearly upon the altar that he could see that the source of the sound was Kurt. He was lying on his side in the shadows, practically beneath the wreckage of the central table where the Sacrament sat during mass.
"God in Heaven Kurt! What ever is the matter?" Father Dietrich said. He broke into a run and knelt beside Kurt who did appear to have heard him. He pulled Kurt's bloody hands away from his face, not sure what he would find. "Are you hurt? What happened?" he asked.
Kurt was still screaming when he felt gentle hands trying to pry his own away from his face. He sat up in surprise, trying to wipe the tears from his cheeks. He only succeeded in smearing blood across it; it mixed with his tears and soaked into his fur. He looked around, realizing that in his panic over Azazel he'd completely smashed up the altar. "I'm sorry," he said, still sobbing, "I'll fix it."
"It's all right, Kurt. What happened? How did you get in here?" Father Dietrich took Kurt's hand, the one with the most blood on it, and looked at it. There was a small pattern of cuts on it, like a bite made by sharp teeth, teeth like Kurt's. And had Kurt just apologized for the damage to his altar?
"What's going on?" Father Dietrich asked.
"Ummm." Kurt paused, gently extracting his hand from the priest's grip. "I had another nightmare," he said.
"But how did you get in here? What happened to your hand?"
Kurt looked around him, suddenly feeling like a trapped animal. He'd never told Father Dietrich about how he could teleport himself, or about anything else that had to do with Azazel for that matter. He didn't like keeping anything from him, but he didn't know how Father Dietrich would react. It was the only secret he had and given the circumstances, it was important he keep it. But he hated to lie.
"Through the door." Kurt said.
"But I locked the door. I had to unlock it to come in here. It looks like you bit your own hand. What's going on Kurt?"
"I… I'm…" Kurt stood up quickly. He tipped the table back up right, but it was now missing a leg and it crashed back down to the floor, missing Father Dietrich's head by inches. The priest jumped back in shock and Kurt cringed; he was just making everything worse. "I'm sorry!" he shouted. He went to pick up one of the candlesticks that had rolled over next to his foot and to his surprise Father Dietrich grabbed him from behind, wrapping his arms around him as he pulled him away from the altar.
"Stop it." Father Dietrich said, he still had Kurt's arms gripped tightly in his hands as though he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. "What's gotten into you?" he asked.
Kurt stared at him. The truth was nothing had gotten into him, at least nothing that hadn't already been there. He couldn't answer. He didn't want to have to lie to Father Dietrich anymore. He turned, pulling himself from the Father's grip and ran from the church.
Kurt was sitting in the kitchen watching the sun come up when he heard Father Dietrich's footsteps on the stairs. Kurt had run from the church and gone directly to his room where he'd locked the door. He'd sat awake in the room with the lights off. He'd listened to Father Dietrich return to the church. The priest had stood outside his door, but he didn't knock and finally, had gone away, evidently returning to his room. A little while afterwards, Kurt had packed a bag and snuck downstairs with his it, his rosary, and bible, and his big coat thrown over his arm. From the sound of the steps, Father Dietrich had gone upstairs to check Kurt's room first.
"Did you get any sleep at all?" Father Dietrich asked as he came into the kitchen.
Kurt shook his head. "You're up early," he said.
"It's Sunday." Father Dietrich said.
It was? Kurt had completely lost track of time. "I'm so sorry about what happened to the altar," he said. "Will you be able to fix it in time?"
"All ready fixed," Father Dietrich said. "That leg has always been kind of loose. It's come off before." He sat down at the table across from Kurt. "You have to tell me what's troubling you," he said. "I can't help you if you don't tell me."
"I can't. I'm sorry, but there are some things I can't tell you?" Kurt said.
"I've got about an hour before I need to start getting ready for mass. We could go into the box if you like. You don't have to keep your secrets from God. God has unlimited forgiveness."
Kurt shook his head again. "I think God already knows. And…" He paused. "It doesn't matter. This is something I have to fix." Kurt slid his bible and rosary across the table to Father Dietrich. "Would you look after these for me?" he asked.
Father Dietrich looked surprised. "Why on Earth… Kurt, what's going on?"
"I'm sorry Father. It's something I have to take care of. I don't want anything to happen to these, they mean a lot to me." Kurt said, swallowing hard. He'd made up his mind over night. He had to get rid of Azazel; he had to keep him away at all costs. He had spent the entire night mulling the possibilities short of killing himself. When inspiration struck it was his bible that was indirectly responsible, not the words of the book, but the piece of paper he'd tucked into it years ago.
Years ago when Kiwi and Amiri Black came to the circus, Kurt had been fascinated with the tattoos on their faces. They had told him about how the Maori believed that the tattoos frightened evil spirits away, that the decorations had served as a ward, keeping evil from attempting to possess their bodies. This was exactly what Kurt needed and he had considered trying to return to the circus to find them, but then he had realized, the Maori tattoos were in the wrong language. He needed to speak Azazel's language, the alphabet for which was written on a paper he kept folded in his bible. And there was only one person besides Azazel whom he had ever known to use those symbols, Margali's sister, Martuska Szardos.
The only problem was that he didn't know where Martuska was. He was going to have to summon Azazel again. He was going to have to ask for his help.
"Kurt, I'm serious. You're scaring me. What is going on?" Father Dietrich said.
Kurt shut his eyes. He knew how this must all look, but he had to follow through, for himself and for Father Dietrich. He couldn't have Azazel threatening him that way. Kurt stood up.
"Please look after them for me." He said. He started towards the door, but he couldn't leave it like that. He turned around. Father Dietrich was still sitting at the table as though in shock.
"I know how strange this must seem, but please understand, it's necessary."
"Necessary how?" Father Dietrich asked.
Kurt could see the utter confusion written on the priest's face, but he shook his head, shifting his coat in his hands. "It's just necessary. I have to go. I'm sorry," he said. He left the kitchen, walking down the hall towards the door.
Father Dietrich got up and followed him. "Kurt, what are you doing? The circus is already back in Europe. Wolfgang is supposed to pick you up next week," he said.
"I'm sorry," Kurt said again. He pulled on his coat and opened the door.
"Where should I tell them you're going?" Kurt could hear Father Dietrich's voice from the doorway as he ran down the hill.
Once he was in the clearing where he had summoned Azazel the night before Kurt went through the same actions, scratching Azazels' mark with his tail and then opening one of the punctures he'd made on his hand.
Azazel took longer to appear this time.
"Twice in as many days!" the angel shouted gleefully. "So you've made up your mind then?"
Kurt shook his head. "Not quite," he said. "I need your help. I need to find Margali's sister."
"What do you need her for?" Azazel asked suspiciously.
"Because I need to corroborate your story. Margali never told me about her family being seers. I need to find out if what you say is true." Kurt said, hoping he was putting enough naïve earnestness in his voice to fool Azazel.
"What makes you think she'll talk to you? Unlike Margali, Martuska still follows Romani traditions." Azazel said.
"That's my problem." Kurt said.
"So you want to know where she is?" Azazel asked.
"Yes." Kurt said.
"And if I tell you, how will you get there?"
Kurt had considered this and it was a problem. "I'll find a way," he said.
Azazel smiled broadly. "I could help you, you know," he said, "I could take you to her."
Kurt looked skeptical. "How?" he asked.
"My realm may open upon any door I chose, even that of Margali's sister. All you have to do is ask." Azazel held out a hand.
Kurt didn't move. It was true he had intended to set out right away and the idea of a shortcut was inviting, as long as he could take it without Azazel discovering his true motivation.
"I promise you safe passage." Azazel said.
Kurt looked around; the sun was starting to come up. In less than an hour people would be arriving for mass. He wanted to be as far away as possible before that happened. It was hard enough leaving a place where he had been so happy. He stared at the steeple of St. Stephan's now silhouetted against the lightening sky for as long as possible, trying to burn it into his memory. He took Azazel's hand in his own.
Kurt felt himself pulled forward, similar to the feeling of teleporting but slower and completely silent. Then he stepped onto what felt like cold marble. He looked around, not sure what to expect and to his surprise saw only blackness. And it was so cold. He could see his breath in the air and could already feel himself starting to shiver.
"This is hell?" Kurt asked. He was expecting something different.
"This is what I choose to let you see." Azazel said. Then he started chuckling. "Hell…" he said under his breath, and laughed again. "So are you coming?" Azazel asked, he motioned for Kurt to follow and chose a direction as though he could see his destination despite the fact that they were surrounded by featureless black.
Kurt followed him slowly, stepping gingerly on the cold stone ground. He wondered where they were going, and more importantly, whether Azazel was truly going to let him out when they got there.
A quick Author's note
I could post the rest of the chapters right now.
But where's the fun in that?
Instead of posting in groups of 5 to 10 chapters like I have been, I will post the last group one at a time for the next few weeks. This will give me time to polish up the sequel that I have been working on so that when I'm done with this, I can go right into posting that. I have, however, put up the teaser quotes for each chapter, so it's not like you get nothing.
To those who have read and reviewed, thank you so much. You have no idea how happy I am when I see a new review has arrived. Many have expressed surprise to see so few reviews, but there's no trick, what you see is what there is. I don't have a beta reader and I kind of write in a bit of a vacuum so it is great to get even a little bit of feedback.
Thanks to all who have read and enjoyed and God Bless,
e
