Chapter 23
Five minutes later found me walking into the church alone, the heavy wooden doors closing almost silently behind me on a pocket of air.
I covered myself in a veil before making my way forward, toward the inner doors leading into the nave. One was propped open, while the other was missing entirely. It made my entrance easier, and I slipped in and let my eyes adjust to the dark space.
Light filtered in from the glass skylight at the peak of the dome and the high curving windows to either side. The only other illumination came from the candles up where the altar had once sat.
While scarce, the light was enough to reveal the decrepit state of the old church, where old paint had cracked and crumbled from the walls and dome ceiling down to litter the floor. Dust and debris had drifted in through a couple broken windows, ensuring that there wasn't a clean inch of marble in sight.
As I'd observed previously, the place was barren of anything that poachers might be interested in. The lone holdouts were the candelabras at the front, which I assumed were recent additions put into place by the squatters.
A body lay between the two sets of candles. A white sheet had been spread out beneath the limp form, most likely to allow for the sorcerer to make their magic circle without having to clean the area. Their concern certainly hadn't been with preserving the state of the floor, which was doused liberally with blood.
Arcs of it had been cast about, although most of it was concentrated on the sheet itself. I could tell from a distance that it wasn't the Shroud; that'd been long and narrow, whereas this one looked like something you'd find in the bedding section of Wal-Mart.
There was no sign of anyone, but that didn't mean much. I started forward carefully, making sure not to disturb much of the debris scattered across the floor. I could see where others had tread in and out, and knew that even with a good veil, my progress would be noted if I kicked up too much dust.
I was halfway to the front when one of the doors at the rear opened, and the short dark form of Cassius appeared. He seemed distracted as he dried his hands with a towel. The man didn't even spare a glance in my direction as he approached the body on the floor.
But when he was about three feet away from it he froze, a surprised look crossing his face. A moment later he looked toward the front of the nave as a set of glowing eyes appeared on his forehead. His own eyes began to glow a second later, and all four fixated on me even through my veil.
"You!" the Denarian hissed, even as he began his transformation. In a matter of seconds his clothes were torn away, his human body giving way to the serpentine one I'd seen at the hotel; dark green scales covering thick muscular arms and a wide snake body.
I strode forward, releasing the veil around me as my eyes locked on the Denarian. His thin scaly lips peeled back into a modulating hiss as his hands weaved in the air between us. I could feel his magic as it took shape, forming a massive ball of writhing snakes that he flung in my direction.
"Infriga!" I shouted, jabbing one end of my staff at the ball of snakes, before spinning it and unleashing a second spell on the heels of the first. "Forzare!"
The first chilled the air as it sped toward the oncoming serpents. When it hit, the writhing mass froze solid in an instant, their bodies stiff, lifeless and cold by the time the force spell arrived. It shattered them on impact, littering the floor with chunks of frozen flesh that were crushed under my boots.
As I drew more power in, the Denarian seemed to realize he might be in trouble. He moved quickly, spinning to slither toward one of the rear doors. There were exits back there that would let him escape.
The demon skidded to a halt as a bright light appeared in the doorway a moment before Michael strode through, bearing the shining blade of Amoracchius.
To his credit, Cassius reacted with surprising speed. His body twisted again, to make for the door on the other side of the recessed sanctuary, only to visibly flinch as Sanya strode through that one, Esperacchius shining just as brightly as its counterpart.
The Denarian spun in place, clearly seeking out a means of escape. But as his serpentine head twisted about, Murphy's running footsteps sounded from behind me, until she came to a rest at my side, Fidelacchius still sheathed at her hip.
"Give up," Michael said softly, his voice as cold.
Cassius just hissed in response, before slithering toward the wall. It took me a moment to realize he planned on scaling the stone surface, his clawed human hands breaking marble to pull himself up. He moved quickly, and if he'd been left to his own devices, he might have made it to the skylight.
Instead, my spells hit him as he reached the bottom of the dome, the stone freezing even as a cutting wind tore him away and threw him back toward the apse.
My legs were moving even as he fell, a mantle-infused leap carrying me over the remains of the fallen Knight laying on the blanket. I arrived as Cassius crashed down, my frost-covered hand slamming into his throat and pinning him against the wall.
His claws rose, as if he planned to resist. But as the other two Knights arrived at my sides, their swords bright and ready for their bloody work, the demon gave up.
"Where's Nicodemus?" I snarled as I slammed Snake Boy into the wall. His arms rose in surrender, but both sets of eyes were narrowed with undisguised hate as he looked down on me.
"I will tell you nothing, wizard," the snake hissed.
"We'll see about that," I growled as the ice thickened across my fingers and palm. Tiny razors formed, pressing into his flesh and cutting him as I lifted him higher.
The demon's neck spasmed beneath my grip, but the defiance never left his eyes. "Do your worst, mortal," he spat hoarsely. "I have served Nicodemus for longer than—"
His words cut off when icy fingernails plunged into the sides of his neck. "I get it. You've been Nick's pet snake for a while. I bet you have your own aquarium back home and everything." He gasped as my grip tightened again. "But Nick isn't here now. I am. And they are," I added, nodding toward the Knights. "So start talking, or we're going to see how much skin you shed before there's nothing left."
The Denarian's eyes shifted back and forth between the Knights. But to my surprise, his lips curled into a smile. "They will do nothing to me."
"Wanna—" I began, before a glowing sigil appeared on Cassius's forehead. It flared brightly for just a moment, and then it flashed in a burst of light.
I had just enough time to see the flap of flesh that had appeared on his head before something was tumbling out of it. It glinted in the light from the Swords as it glanced off my forearm and headed directly toward my face.
My eyes widened as the chipped and twisted coin bounced off my cheek before clattering to the floor.
I heard Michael hiss beside me, even as I watched the serpentine flesh break down beneath my grip. With his cursed coin gone, Cassius reverted back to his human form. He groaned as the transformation was completed, and after only a few moments I found myself looking at nothing more than a two-bit sorcerer with a bloody neck.
"Did it touch you?" Michael gasped, his attention no longer on the man I held. "Harry, did it touch you?"
I released my staff, ice forming on the bottom to form a base to let it stand on its own. As it did, my free hand reached up to stroke at my cheek. Frost-covered fingertips traced across a thicker coating of ice on my face, thicker than there'd been when I summoned up my power.
The mantle must have realized the danger and acted to protect me of its own accord.
"No," Sanya answered for me, his eyes on my frigid armor. "The ice protected him."
"I'm fine," I said, hoping I sounded calmer than I felt. "No demons here."
"Exactly," Cassius hissed, his human face contorting in pain as the effort caused my armored hand to cut into his flesh.
Realizing that I could accidentally kill the man before he told us anything, I let the icy blades fade back. "What are you talking about?"
"My name is Quintius Cassius, and I have long been slave to the will of the demon Saluriel," the man said gleefully as his dark eyes glittered with malice. "I beg you for mercy and the chance to mend my ways."
"Like hell," I said, tightening my grip on him.
"Harry," Michael said softly, much too softly for my liking.
I turned to him, blinking in surprise at his defeated tone. "What?" Both Knights pulled their swords back, the light fading from their blades as they did. It left that corner of the room shrouded in darkness. "What are you doing?"
"Harry, we can't," Michael said, sounding as if he'd been gutted.
"What?"
"He has surrendered the coin," Sanya spat. If Michael was saddened by the turn of events, the Russian was filled with disgust.
"So what?" I replied. "He killed Shiro. And he's helping do a hell of a lot more. Not to mention whatever he's done in the past."
"Oh, I have done much," Cassius gloated. "So very, very much. And they know that I will do so much more." His eyes shifted to Michael, taking delight in my friend's misery. "They know I will once more take up a coin. But there is nothing they can do about it."
"Bullshit," I said, looking at my friend. "He's just as guilty now as he was moments ago."
"It does not matter, Harry," Michael said sadly. "Our purpose is to save the hosts. To help them find the strength to seek redemption."
"Are you fucking kidding me?!" I hissed, furious at him. As I spoke, I slammed Cassius into the wall for emphasis. "He might not be a demon, but he's still a monster."
Cassius gave off a wispy laugh. "Save me, oh great Knight of the Lord."
As Michael stepped further back, I turned to Sanya. The man had already sheathed his sword, and had bent to retrieve the discarded coin. Once it was folded away in a white handkerchief like the one Michael had used before, he turned away, to look toward the fallen Knight behind us.
"It's over, Harry," Michael said as he did the same. "There is nothing more we can do to him."
"But we still don't know where Nick is!" I shouted.
"Churches."
The raspy voice caught us all off-guard, and my head swiveled around to look at the bloodied form lying on the sheet.
"Shiro?" Michael asked, shocked that the man was still breathing. So was I.
The small man nodded weakly from where he lay on the floor. His body was covered in gore, but somehow enough strength remained to make his chest rise and fall. "I am here, my friend."
Murphy had already knelt beside him. Fidelacchius was lying at his side where she'd tucked it into his arm, making good on her promise to return it to him. Sanya and Michael quickly joined her, all three kneeling beside the Knight.
I tightened my grip on Cassius and pulled him away from the wall, before striding back toward the others. Before I got there I flung the man to the ground and dropped to a knee. When he tried to rise, I grabbed him by the back of the neck and shoved him down again, his skull bouncing off the marble floor.
"Churches," Shiro repeated, turning his head as best he could to look to his brethren.
"We're in the church," Michael assured him.
"No," Shiro said, before a wracking cough shook him violently. A misty blood spat from his lips, and I thought for a second that he'd breathed his last. But somehow the man held on to continue. "The churches. The Shroud is in the churches."
The others shared a confused glance as Cassius began to laugh.
"Shut up," I snarled, bouncing his head off the floor again.
"What do you mean the 'churches'?" Murphy asked. "How can it be in multiple places?"
"They cut it," Shiro wheezed. "Many times over."
All of us froze in shock. The former Denarian's laugh began again as his face twisted around to look up at me. "Too late. Far too late, wizard."
My gaze returned to Shiro as he feebly reached for Murphy's hand. "His servants… he sent his servants out…" His speech was again interrupted by a hacking cough, this one longer and more painful than the last.
I flipped Cassius over and glared down at him. "Explain."
The man just laughed.
"It's okay," Murphy said to Shiro, who was fading quickly. "We'll get you to help."
"Too late," Cassius hissed darkly.
"He's right," Shiro said when finally could. "Nicodemus's curse… can't escape…"
"Like hell," I growled, before looking up to the dying man. "We'll get you behind wards. Get you medical attention."
Shiro just slowly shook his head as he reached for the Sword at his side. Murphy helped him find it, only to blink in surprise as he pushed it to her. "Take it."
"I… I can't…" she said, shocked.
"You… are a good person, detective," he said feebly. A small smile appeared on his lips despite his obvious pain. "Better than you know. Take… take the Sword. You will know."
"I'll know what?" Murphy asked breathlessly.
"Trust your heart," Shiro said, his voice becoming thinner.
I think we all knew at that point that there was no changing fate. No stopping what they'd done to the man. The Knights were openly crying by then, as was Murphy. I wanted to cry, but found my tear-ducts frozen beneath an icy rage.
As distant bells began to chime, the man spasmed, his eyes widening as he suffered the worst seizure yet. Cassius chuckled as he watched. "You hear those bells, old man? They chime for thee."
No-one spared the man a glance. Our eyes were fixed on the fallen Knight as his chest finally settled, his face relaxing as he took one last breath. A peaceful look overcame him then, one far better than I would have expected from such a death. There was almost a smile to his lips as his eyes grew distant, as if he were seeing someone there we could not.
Perhaps he was.
As the others wept, I sat back, my head suddenly spinning as I grew nauseous.
It should have been me lying there. I was the one that the prophecy had named. I was the one that had gotten involved. It was my recklessness that had made the Knight act to preserve my life. My fault that the Denarians had succeeded in gaining the Shroud.
My fault that a good man had died.
There was a time I would have hated myself for that. And perhaps I would later. But at the moment, I had someone else to blame, someone else to hate.
When my gaze fell once again to Quintus Cassius, there was nothing but cold determination in them.
The man gasped as I pulled him off the floor. My steps wavered, the dizzying sensation lingering as I shook him. When we turned back toward the back wall, it was more of a stumbling motion than anything else. He gasped as I slammed him into the marble. But the violent blow hadn't been intentional; I'd lost my balance as I moved, causing me to fall forward.
Something was wrong with me.
The small man before me just laughed around the hand at his throat.
Looking to him, my vision blurred while I fished around in my pockets with my free hand.
"You might be out of their reach," I whispered darkly, my eyes unflinching as they focused on the man. I didn't even fear a soulgaze, because I knew that as bad as seeing Cassius's soul might be, he'd see mine in return. Maybe that would be enough to convince him of just how far I was willing to go. "But you're not beyond mine."
"What will you do?" Cassius spat contemptuously. "We learned all about you. I know your limits."
"I'll make you suffer," I promised him. My gaze was hard as I increased the pressure on his chest, while withdrawing my secret weapon. Whatever I'd felt, it seemed to be clearing up. "As for how much, and how far I'm willing to go…" I smiled cruelly as my grip on his shoulder tightened like a vice.
"Let's just say I'm of one mind about it."
The man started to reply, until he felt the cold metal snap around his wrist. His eyes went wide with horror as the thorned manacle bit into his flesh, and he gasped a desperate breath as it took away whatever latent magical talent he had.
I quickly fastened the second one on, even as the man howled in agony. Just as I'd felt the thorns rip away my magic when I tried to use it, so too did the former Denarian. He screamed when he realized what I'd done.
It only grew worse after that.
"Tell me what you've done," I hissed.
"Harry," Michael said.
"No," Cassius gasped, even as he squealed in pain. His eyes dropped down, unconsciously looking to his feet. The cold I was channeling into him started there, making his flesh grow pale before tinging blue. "I can't."
"You can," I said, holding him against the wall as I leaned in. "And you will."
"I can't—" he started, only to break off into a scream as the blood froze in his veins.
"Harry, you can't," Michael said from right behind me. I felt a hand land on my shoulder.
It flinched away on contact, burned as if he'd touched dry ice.
"If you tell me, I'll stop," I whispered to Cassius, who's eyes were growing unfocused. "I'll even release you."
"You… You won't," he gasped, his head lolling as his body spasmed.
"I will," I assured him. "I swear on my power that I will." The cold continued to creep up the man's legs. With his clothing torn away from his transformation, his tormented flesh was on display for all to see. "But not until after you've told us what we need to know."
Cassius resisted for as long as he could. But every man has a breaking point. A point where they'll do anything to make the pain stop. Most would have given up the information quickly.
Cassius held out until I kicked his left foot, causing it to shatter.
"Alright!" he screamed. "Alright! Just stop!"
"Better hurry…" I said, letting the power work its way higher. I imagined I could feel his heart laboring to try and keep pumping the cold blood in his veins.
"The churches!" the man gasped. "We cut the Shroud into pieces and sent the Acolytes to churches!"
"What churches?"
"Lots!" he whimpered. "All over!"
"All over Chicago?" I asked, confused.
"All over the world!"
I leaned back, letting up on the power as his words stunned me.
He must have felt the advancing ice stop, because he pressed on enthusiastically. "We cut squares this morning." He gasped to catch his breath before continuing. "We doused the squares with blood," he said, seeming to nod at me before jerkily nodding in Shiro's direction. "We sent the first servitors out not long after dawn. Most of their flights landed hours ago."
"Where?" I pressed.
"Everywhere," he cried pitifully. "London. Rome. New York. Shangai. Tokyo."
"Good God," Michael whispered from behind me.
"Why?" I growled. "To spread the plague curse?"
"Yes," Cassius said. "Originally we were just going to spread it slowly. Put it on a flight or a train or something, to let it roll across the countryside. But then you gave Nicodemus the idea to spread it out."
"What?!" Murphy gasped.
"I did no such thing," I snapped. The ice began its ascent up his body again, and he cried out when he felt it.
"You did!" he screamed. "You told him there was enough to go around! That the Shroud was powerful enough to share!"
A cold feeling started working its way through my veins as the man continued. "I told Nicodemus that you were right; that with both your blood and the Jap's fueling the curse, along with the latent power in the Shroud, that I could spread it across all of the pieces."
"That's impossible," I insisted. "They'd need to be here when the curse activated."
"No," he replied quickly. "No, I prepared each together. The spell just needed a trigger."
I glanced back over my shoulder. "Shiro's death."
Cassius nodded. "Nicodemus used the Barabbas curse. The entropy spell was to hit him at the appointed time."
I blinked as I realized what he meant. "The bells. You said the bells…"
"When the five o'clock bells chimed, it'd hit," he confirmed. "I was supposed to make sure you didn't find a way to interfere, but it didn't really matter. The Barabbas curse would track the Jap no matter where he was; no matter where his blood was."
I rocked back as the implication hit home. "No. That's… that's impossible."
Only, as I thought about it, I realized it wasn't.
What Cassius was talking about was thaumaturgy. The binding and connecting of two pieces of a whole. It was something I was good at; it was what I'd been trying to do with the blood samples.
But what he was describing, the sheer scale of it… it was unheard of.
"You're not powerful enough to pull that off," I insisted. "Even with the entropy curse seeking out Shiro's blood, there's no way you could bind the pieces of the Shroud together."
"Maybe not with my power alone," Cassius said, a hint of arrogance returning to his eyes. "That's why I used yours."
"You what?" I asked numbly.
"It wasn't just the Jap's blood on the Shroud pieces," Cassius explained, his lips twisting up in amusement. "When my snakes bit you, they weren't just injecting venom; they were taking blood. Blood that I used to enrich the curse. When we decided to divide it, I used your blood to bind them."
"No," I said. "That would mean…"
That would mean that it was my power tying the pieces together. But I would have sensed that, would have—
Oh fuck.
Cassius's smile grew. "How's your head? Still dizzy?"
I looked back to Shiro, to where I'd been when the bells rang. To where I'd felt nauseous and disoriented just as the curse had struck.
Had his spell been drawing on my power? Had he just used my fucking power to activate the curse?!
I spun back to Cassius, my renewed grip on his throat threatening to break his neck. "You're lying!"
The man just gagged in response. Eventually I realized I'd need to loosen my grip if I wanted an answer.
"You know it's true," he gasped when he finally could. "You felt it."
My head swam again, this time in despair. "No. No, you wouldn't do that. Because all it would take for me to stop the spell would be to cut myself off from magic."
"Too late," he repeated. "The spell doesn't need your magic to run its course; it's drawing on the Shroud for that. All your power did was help activate it."
My heart thundered in my chest as I realized the man was telling the truth.
The dizzying sensation hadn't lasted. It'd only hit me while the spell was drawing on my power. Cutting myself off from my magic would do no good now.
And then my heart fluttered, as another thought occurred to me.
If I'd left the thorned manacles on, the curse would have failed.
"Where are they?" Murphy asked. I tried pulling my mind back from where it'd started going, but I wasn't quite there yet.
"He had them go to churches," Cassius continued, his dark eyes shifting to the woman. "If they could, they were to place the pieces close to the communion offerings."
"Communion?" Sanya asked, confused. "But it is only Saturday night. Mass won't be until tomorrow morning. We have time."
"No," Michael groaned behind me. I turned to him in time to see my friend shake his head sharply. "The Mass of Anticipation is held Saturday nights at five o'clock."
"But attendance…" Murphy said.
"Will be high," Cassius said. When I turned to him, he flinched from my gaze. "He invited the press."
The cold feeling in my veins froze solid as I realized what he was saying.
When Nicodemus had told me where the duel was to take place, I'd mouthed off about inviting the press. That once they got ahold of something, there'd be no stopping it.
It seemed he'd taken a liking to the idea.
Without realizing it, I'd made things worse.
"They spread the word of the theft to drive up attendance tonight," Michael gasped. "Harry, we have to stop this."
"You can't," Cassius said with a violent shake of his head. The man couldn't help but smile as he enjoyed his victory. "Even if you get to one or two of the pieces, you can't get them all." His eyes met mine again, before flinching away. "It's too late. The bells weren't just ringing for him.
"They were ringing for the world."
