Part 27 (2/2)

You mustn't judge me, Verity,' Othman said. I'm healing your father.'

Verity could only listen, unable to speak. How could healing be so dark? She felt only evil around her, nothing healthy at all. It was bleak and cold and cruel. Heartless. This, she reflected miserably, was almost a reflection of herself.

Othman continued to stroke her hair. Occasionally, he made a small sound, which might have been distress or pleasure. No sound came from Louis. He barely moved.

After what seemed to be several hours of being trapped in a nightmare, Verity was partly jerked from her trance by the sound of a car in the driveway outside. Othman uttered a brief hiss and reared upright in the chair like a snake. Louis collapsed onto the floor, where he made feeble, crawling movements. Verity tensed. She heard Owen Winter call her brother's name, heard them come into the house. Would they find them here like this? Daniel!' she said, but realised the sound was only in her head. Her throat was closed. Gently, Othman pushed her away.

Get up,' he said. You can go to your room.'

Verity's limbs felt like stone, the blood stilled in the veins. Without looking backwards, she lurched uncertainly to the door and went out into the hall.

For a few minutes, she simply stood there, mindless. Then she thought of Raven, and a few tears spilled from her eyes. My cat,' she murmured. I want my cat.'

He would be in the kitchen.

Seeing Owen and Daniel embracing made no impact on Verity's mind. How could it after what she'd just seen? In some ways, she was glad they were there, for despite their closeness, which normally she'd find distasteful, they were clean and pure. She felt she could see their souls s.h.i.+ning out of them, clear light. Their love for one another surrounded them like a glowing s.h.i.+eld. She could not tell them what she'd seen, what had happened. In their purity, they could not possibly understand the words. An alien language of darkness. She couldn't tell them to go to the study, although some part of her thought she should. Othman still had a grip on her tongue.

Once Raven was in her arms, she felt better. Owen opened the door for her and she was able to escape.

Verity went directly to her room, and put Raven down on the bed. The cat was purring, his tail moving slowly against the duvet as he watched her undress. She wanted to cry, but it seemed impossible. Naked, she slid beneath the quilt and Raven walked up the bed to purr in her ear.

Horrible,' she murmured, bad thing. Oh Raven, what's happening?' The tears came then and she pulled the cat against her.

Don't worry,' he said. I'll look after you.'

Was the voice in her brain or her ears? She couldn't tell.

The tall one can't hurt you,' Raven said. You're protected. You don't have to be afraid.' Then he began to lick her damp, salty cheeks with his rough tongue.

Will you be a man again?' Verity whispered.

Sometimes,' the cat replied, but not tonight.'

Downstairs, Louis lay unconscious in his study before the dead hearth. Fluids within his body flowed and ebbed upon a strange, alien tide. Fibres twisted and mutated, grew. He did not dream.

Othman was sitting on the stairs, trembling, his hands dangling between his knees. His wrist ached now. Will it never end? he thought. He sensed Owen and Daniel's communion two storeys above him, and instinctively fed upon it. Owen was running ahead. He would have to be brought back under control.

Othman pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. His flesh was burning. He smelled charred meat. No! He threw back his head, sucked in a lungful of breath, attempted to rise to his feet. Instead, he collapsed against the banister. It was with him again, the torment. He heard her terrible screams, the grief of it, the unbearable grief. Then the stones came down, to bury and conceal, to crush and kill, to seal the pact of the curse, their justice. It was in this house. Something, someone. Weakly, Othman pulled himself up against the banister. He had to get out.

It came as a whisper, as a shout. It came like a silver dart down the stairways, snaking as a trail of vapour into the hallway. It hit him between the shoulder blades. A name. Shemyaza. The name he dreaded. He had to take it, absorb it. The impact made him nauseous.

They have awoken the spirit of the church, Othman thought. I am with them. The oldest memory, still to be recalled, stirred deep within him, forbidden and intangible, yet real and terrible. A desire to flee the house overcame him.

Outside, he vomited into the antirrhinums, a substance that tasted of smoke.

Chapter Twenty-One.

Sat.u.r.day 24th October: Little Moor Daniel woke up alone. It was full daylight, and a glance at the clock told him he'd slept till midday. Owen must have crept out earlier. Daniel lay back, first to savour the l.u.s.tful memories of the night, then, less readily to contemplate the dark images that had a.s.sailed his mind, holding sleep at bay. The name: Shemyaza. It stuck in his brain like a mantra. First in the club, then later in bed; too much of a coincidence.

He got out of bed and pulled on some jeans and a T-s.h.i.+rt. Again, the day was unnaturally warm for the time of year. He opened the window and an airless blast came into the room. He could see Verity out in the garden, picking the late summer flowers and putting them into a basket. Raven was winding in and out of her legs, his huge tail held aloft. An idyllic sight, Daniel thought.

When he went into the kitchen, he was surprised to find Owen there, reading the paper and eating toast. Verity made me breakfast,' Owen explained.

How was she?' Daniel still couldn't believe the apparent dramatic change in his sister's character.

Fine. A little vague. She didn't mention anything.'

Daniel shook his head. Most bizarre. Have you seen Dad?'

No.'

After breakfast, Daniel took Owen into his father's study. Research time,' he said.

Owen grimaced as they entered the dark, high ceilinged room. Smells funny in here,' he said. What is it?'

Daniel sniffed. I don't know.' He s.h.i.+vered. I've never liked this room.'

Owen watched him go over to the floor-to-ceiling bookcases on either side of the fireplace. What are you looking for?'

Daniel browsed through the t.i.tles. Here. This section. Dad bought a lot of books up at random when we moved in, because his collection left too many s.p.a.ces on the shelves. We picked up some stuff at an auction, loads of dictionaries and encyclopaedias. Here...'

He handed Owen a fat plain covered volume that felt sticky to the touch, even though it was bound in cloth. Dictionary of World Mythology,' Owen read. Volume ten? Wow. Got the rest?'

Most of them. I think the only ones that are missing are the index volumes, if we're lucky.'

Owen wandered over to Louis' desk and sat down. He leafed through the book. The text is tiny. This was certainly a labour of love!'

Look up Shemyaza,' Daniel said, then spelled the name out.

I've heard that name before,' Owen said, and told Daniel about his visit to the old church with Peverel Othman. That place is dedicated to a St Shem. Pev said that was Shemyaza, I'm sure he did.'

Daniel's eyes were round. He hurried over to the desk. Really! This is weird. Look it up, O, quickly.'

Owen poured through the text. He frowned. Oh.'

What does it say?'

”See Semjaza”.' Owen marked the text with a finger. Here we are. He was the leader of a band of fallen angels, known as the Grigori.'

Daniel interrupted him. Yes, yes! I said that too. Remember? The name of the people who built the Garden in Eden. I'm sure that was one of the names!'

Owen smiled. Calm down. Let me finish.' He peered at the page. Originally, Shemyaza was a powerful seraph, who fell after being seduced by the wicked maiden, Ishtahar. He was punished for this and his soul now hangs between heaven and earth, head down, in the constellation of Orion.'

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