Icouldn’tseewhereitwasleadinguntilRosenberggottothetopanddrewhis harpe.Hethenusedittoflipopenahatchdoorabovehim.Torchlightand
someominouspianomusicpouredthroughtheopening.Heholsteredtheblade andclimbedup.
Rosenbergputhistorchthroughtheopeningfirst.Someoneaboveplayeda triumphantseriesofnotesonatrumpet.Thenawhiteglovedhandcamedown fromtheotherside.Rosenberggrabbeditwithhisfreehandandallowedhimself tobehelpedup.Afewsecondslaterweheardhimbellowingloudly.
“HailtotheLions!”
Thencameareplyfromachorusofvoicesabove.
“Hail,Father!”
Weallwentupthroughthehatchaswell,exceptforMilesandPhilippine.
Milesgrabbedthegirlbythearmandnudgedherwithhisgunbackdownthe stairs.Thenhemotionedformetosqueezepasthim.WhenIemerged,Isawthat wewereinthe mithraeum.Milesshutthedoorbehindme.
Wehadcomeoutofaholeinthefloorinthesoutheastcorneroftheroom,near thealtar,whichwasarecreationofanoriginalfeature,asIrememberedfrom readingtheplaquesondisplayearlierthatday.Itwascoveredbyaboxonthe floor,madeofstoneandaboutafoothigh.Thearcheologistswhofoundit thoughtthatitmusthavecontainedritualparaphernaliaofsomesort.Butnow theboxactedasaportaltoalowerchamber,withadoorthatcouldbepushed openfrombelow.Milescameupfrombehindmeandshutthedooraswellas theboxlidassoonashewasthrough.
Isawbeforemeasmallcrowdofabout40people,someadults,somechildren, andallmaleasfarasIcouldtell.Theyallworeblackrobeslikeus,andmasks likethosewornbyseveralofRosenberg’sfriends.Thereweremeninlion masks,meninravenmasks,meninRomansoldierhelmets,andyoungboys agedseventotwelvewearinglinenveilslikeCrispin.Eachofthesetypeswere linedupinarowtogether.
Theonesinthelionmaskswereusinglargecensersonchainstowaftuswith incenseasweeachemergedfromthebox.Theveiledboyswereallagainstthe wallontheleft,makingmusic.Onesatatapianointhecorner,playingthe
sombertune,rightnexttotheboyholdingthetrumpet.Againsttheoppositewall wereboyssingingdolorouslyinLatin.
ButonlyRosenbergworethelibertycap,Wetzelhadtheonlysunmask,and onlyConsiviaworethechampagnecorkhatwiththeclownmake‐up.Also, nobodyelseworethelaceyblackveilthatPhilippinehadbeenwearing.
However,there were severalpeopleinthecongregationwhowerewearingblack veils,justnotoflace.Theseothersweremadeofleatherwitheyeslitscutout, justliketheoneIhadseenonthepeoplewhoslaughteredthebullbeneath StratfordHouse.Buttherewasonechange:someoftheleatherveilswere markedwithawhitewaxingcrescentmoonsymbolinfrontofthemouth.Others weremarkedwithablackwaningmoonsymboloutlinedinwhite.
ThesemustbeLeopold’sButchers,Ithought. Iwonderwhytherearetwo differentkinds.
EachofRosenberg’sfriendstooktheirplaceinfrontoftheircorresponding groupsofcongregants.LeopoldstoodbeforetheLions,andMarciatheSoldiers.
Wetzelstoodinthemiddle,in‐betweentheSoldiersandtheLions.Oneofthe SoldiersgrabbedmyarmandpositionedmeinfrontoftheRavens.
ConsiviaSpringholewenttostandbehindthestonealtar,andRosenbergstoodto theleftofit.Itwasnottheoriginalshortandnarrowaltarthathadbeen displayedinthe mithraeumearlier.Itwasamuchlargeroneofroughlyhewn stone,thewidthofaman’slengthwhenhorizontal,andIrecognizeditfrom Wikipedia.Itwastheonefromthechurchnextdoor,St.StephenWalbrook, famouslymadetoresembletheoneintheDomeoftheRockinJerusalem.The latterwas,bytradition,theplacewhereAbrahamalmostsacrificedhisson.It wasalsosaidbyJewstobethe“EvenHa‐Shitiyah,”the“foundationstone”of theuniverse,fromwhichcreationradiatedoutwardathebeginningoftime.
Behindthealtarandthepriestesswasablackcurtain,attachedtoacurtainrod thatraninacirclethroughouttheroom.Ihadn’trememberedseeingthatlast timeIwasinthere,sotheymusthavesetitupjustbeforetheritual.Allofthe informationalplaquesandotherdisplayitemsI’dseenearlierhadbeenremoved.
ConsiviabeganwavingherarmsaboutandchantinginLatin,makingan invocationofsomesort.OneoftheRavenspulledthecurtainaside,revealing
the
ancientstone taurtoctony,nowtheonlypieceofartondisplayfromtheoriginal mithraeum,mountedonthewallbehindthealtar,justasinthedaysofold.
Consiviaturnedandfacedmedirectly.
“Cryphius,haveyouanydispatchfromtheMountoftheGods?”
Thiswasatest,Iknew.Again,theywantedmetoprovemypsychicabilities.I triedtoclearmymindsothatIcouldhearthatsamestrangevoicethathadtold meaboutthewardroberoom.
Tellmewhattosay,Iaskedmentally.
Tomyrelief,areplycamequickly. BringforththeBulloftheWorld.Giveits bloodandseedtotheVirginmyQueen.
Irepeatedtheselinestothepriestess,andthensherepeatedpartofitaswell.She shoutedtothebackoftheroom.
“BringforththeBullandtheQueenofHeaven!”
Atthatmoment,oneofthetwodoorsactingasthemainentrancetothe mithraeum swungopen.Amanwithawaningmoonveilledablackbullona ropethroughthedooranddownthewheelchair‐accessiblerampintothetemple.
Thebullwasdrapedwithlaurelcrownandaredtasseledscarfonitsback.On topofthisPhilippinerodeside‐saddle,herveiledheadslumpedinfrontofher.
Whentheygottothealtar,twowaning‐moonButchersgrabbedthegirlandslid herdownfromthebull.Allthreethenwenttostandwiththerestofthe Butchers.AnothertookthereignsfromMiles,whowalkedbacktothefront doors,nowclosed,andstoodbeforethem,facingthealtarwhileholdinghisgun outinfrontofhimasbefore.ARavencameandstoodnearthealtar,holdinga modiusfullofgrain.ThenConsiviaspoketomeagain.
“Now,Cryphius,comestandbeforethealtar.”
Ihesitantlysteppedforward,trembling.ALionbroughtforthoneofthecensers, nowburneddowntonothingbutsmolderingcharcoal.Shestuckherfingerinthe
ashesanddrewacirclebetweenmyeyes.Thensheputadotinthemiddle.
“Nowwithyourmind’seyedoyouseewhatisinstoreforyourownnear future?”sheasked.
Again,Icouldn’t seeanything,butIheardananswerfromtherobotvoice,with averydisturbingmessage.
Thisisgoingtohurtalot,itsaid.
“Ohshit,”Isaidasthefloorbeneathmyfeetgaveway.Ifellthroughthetrap doorandintoastonepit,landinghardonbothlegs,whichbothsnappedon impact.Iscreamedasmybodycrumpledbeneathme.Bonesstuckoutofboth ankles.Bloodpouredout.Imoanedandcriedpathetically.Ishookand convulseduncontrollably,goingintophysicalshock.
“Wh‐wh‐whatareyougoingtodotome?”IwasstutteringbecauseIwas hyperventilating.
ButofcourseIknewwhatwascoming.Moreorless.Thepitwasaboutsixfeet deep.Itwasroundandsmall,barelybigenoughtositin,exceptthatinfrontof metherewasahallwaythewidthofaman,whichIcouldnotseetheendof.I couldhearwellwhatwasgoingonaboveme.Asmysobsgrewquieter,Consivia beganintoninganincantationaboveme
“SpiritoftheWorld,comeintothebodyofthishornedcreature.Acceptthe grainoffering!Eat!”
Iheardthebull’shoovesscrapingagainstthestonefloor.Ihearditsnortasit mostlikelybegantoeatthegrain,probablyoffereduponthealtarinthestyleof theGreek Bouphoniaritual.Thatmeantthe“hunters”wouldnowbesneakingup behindit.AndifRosenbergwasplayingtheroleofMithrasinthissyncretistic ritualwhichtheyhaddevised,thenitwasprobablyhislancethatwoulddothe slaying.Iheardthebulllowing,whilemenwereshoutingandgrunting.ThenI heardthevoiceinmyheadagain:
Closeyour
eyes.
Iobeyedtheorderasthebull’sbloodcamepouringdownuponme.Itwasa kosherslaughter,soittookafewminutesfortheanimaltobleedout,during
whichtimeIcontinuedtoheargrunting.Thiswasfollowedbyaloudgaspof exaltationjustastheflowofbloodwasslowingtoahalt.Thistoldmethatthe traditionofsodomizingthebullwhileitdiedwasbeingcarriedoutbysomeone inthegroup.
NowIdon’tknowwhatwastheworstpart:thesoundsthepoorcreaturemadeas itdied,thefeelingofthedisgustingoozedrippingonmyface,orthehorrible stench.ThoughtsofMadCowDiseaseandintestinalparasitescametomind.But noneofitdistractedfromthepaininmylegsformorethanafewseconds.I wipedthebloodfrommyeyeswiththesleeveofmyrobe.ThenIlookedupand sawConsiviastaringdownatmefromabove.
“Nowyouhavebeenbaptizedwithablood niptron.Youshouldbeabletosee moreclearly.”
Quitetheopposite.Notonlywastherestillsomebloodstuckinmyeyelids, cloudingmyvision,butmyeyes,alreadyswollenfromcrying,werealsostarting toitchandstinginreactiontothebacteriaintherawblood.
ButIwasn’ttheonlyonecrying.Philippine,whoseonlyknownpersonalitytrait washerloveofanimals,wasbecominghysterical.Shewasundertheinfluence ofthepoisonedbirdfromdinner,butshewasstillherself,andshewasbeing severelytraumatizedbythesightofthis(although,Isuspected,notatallforthe firsttime).However,shewouldnotremainherselfformuchlonger.
Consiviabegananotherinvocation,evenastheknivesoftheButcherscouldbe heardrippingintothebull’sflesh.
“VirginMother,QueenoftheNight,comehitherintothevesselofthisfemale bodythatstandsbeforethisaltar.Comeforthandacceptthebollocksofthis bullock,theWorld.Takeintoyourmouththesacredgermofsecularliving.
Feast!”
Theroomabovemesuddenlybecameilluminatedwithanewlight.Itwasnot torchlight,butasoftblueglow,likenaturalmoonlight.Ittraveledfromthe southwestsideofthetempletothealtar,floatingovertheapertureaboveme alongtheway.Isay“floating”becausewhenIfinallygotalookatit,Isawthat ittooktheformofasphere.Whenitpassedovermeandontothealtar,Iheard
Philippinegasp.
Ithenheardyowling,likethatofacat,andthehissingofalizardorasnake.
Thiswasfollowingbygurgling,ravenouschewingandswallowing.Thegoreof thebull’sseveredtesticleswasundoubtedlybeingpouredintohermouth.
Iheardmorerippingoffleshwithknives,andthecrackingopenofbones.
Thentherewasarattleofchains,andmuffledscreamsfromthegirl,sounding humanagain.Afterthat,therewasamomentofsilence,justlongenoughforme tohearthefaintsoundofaninsectstridulating.Ilookeddirectlyinfrontofme.
Therewasascorpion,blond‐coloredandaboutandinchandahalflong, standingabouttwofeetfrommydisfiguredlegswithitspincherprone.
Itriedtoscootbackawayfromitusingmyhands.ButIwasalreadyprettymuch upagainstthewall.Itstartedrunningtowardsme,andIclosedmyeyes.
ThenIheardafootstep,andacrunch.Iopenedmyeyesandsawoneofthe Lionsstandinginfrontofme,holdinganironringfullofskeletonkeysina disfiguredoldwhitehand.Hehadstompedthescorpionbeneathhislightbrown leathercaptoeOxfordshoe.
“Leopold?”Isaid,justastheonerousmusicstartedupagaininthetempleabove me.
Helookedupwardsthroughthetrapdoor,atnothing,thenlifteduphismask briefly,revealingtheexpectedfamiliarfaceofthedeviousoldconman.He winkedatme,thenputthemaskbackdown.Hekneltdownbesidemeand pulledoutasyringe.Iscreamed.
“No!”IturnedawayfromhimasfarasIcould,andtriedtowrenchmyarm awayfromhimashegrabbedit.Heheldtight.Hewhisperedinmyear.
“Bequietandstopstruggling.I’mtryingtohelpyou.Nowbestill.Idon’twant tohurtyou.”
“I’malreadyinagony!”Isnapped.
“That’swhyI’mgivingyoumorphine,”herepliedthroughclenchedteeth.
Mystrugglesubsided.WithinsecondsIcouldfeelthattheinjectiondidindeed containopiates,amelioratingmysuffering.Iacceptedit.
Maybethey’llchopmeupandeatmebitbybitwhileI’mstillalive,Ithoughtto myself. Atleastwiththedrugsitwon’thurtasmuch.
Islumpedbackandallowedmyselftobedraggedwithoutstruggleseveralfeet downthedarkhallway.ThenLeopoldpickedmeupandheavedmeintoachair.
Itwasawheelchair.
Heblindfoldedmeagain.Ifeltthechairdraggedbackwardssomedistance.
Thenheturnedthecorner,andwasabletoturnthechairaroundsothathewas pushingitforward.Ifeltusgoinguparamp,turningandturning,forseveral minutes.
Thenwestraightenedoutagain,wentacrossahallway,andstoppedinfrontofa door.Leopoldtappedonitninetimes—sixshortonesandthreelongones.The dooropenedandIsmelledtheincense.TheGothicorganmusicplayedandthe boyschantedinLatinaswerodedownthewheelchairrampofthe mithraeum’s properentrance.Atthebottom,heremovedmyblindfold.Themusicstopped.
Consiviaaddressedme.
“Cryphius,youhavebeenhobbledtopreventyoufromrunningaway.Foryou areaslavetous.Youwillnowbesetforthbeforeyourmaster,towhomyou shallgenuflectinobeisance.”
“HowamIsupposedtogetdownonmykneeswhenIcan’tevenstand?”Isaid, quivering.
ButevenasIspoke,Ravenswereliftingmeupandplacingmeonmyknees.
Ihadtofallforwardonmyhandsandholdmybrokenlegsupbehindmewith greatefforttokeepthemfrombearingweightagainsttheground.
“Thatjustmakesiteasiertofallonyourface,”saidRosenberg,behindhismask ofMithras.Henowstoodinfrontofme,andinfrontofthealtar,nowdisplaying theevisceratedcarcassofthesacrificedbullsplitdownthemiddleandcracked
open.Despitetheincense,whichitselfwasanunpleasantsmell,theroomwas stillfullofthemostgod‐awfulstenchfromthedeadanimal.Rosenbergstated hisdemand.
“Doyoupromisetoservemewithoutreservationhenceforth,todoeverythingI ask,tosubmittoeveryhumiliation,whilealsoofferingmeyourbest effortsonthetasksIsetforyou,givingmetrueandcompleteinformationon everyquestionIlaybeforeyou,andacceptingapriceworsethandeathifyou failinthis?”
“Yes,”Isaidinacrackedvoicefullofdesperation.
Howisthisabargain?Ihavenochoicesandnothingtonegotiatewith! I thoughttomyself.
Rosenbergthensteppedasidefromthealtar,andtwotorch‐bearingLions steppedouttoshinetheirfierylightsaheadofmesothatIcouldseewhatwas onthegroundinfrontofit.Therewasabloodypileofmeat,specificallyastring ofintestines,nowjustafootawayfrommyface.ThenRosenbergspokeagain.
“Herearetheentrailsofthesacrifice,sittingintheexactstateinwhichtheyfell fromthevictim’sbody.Withinthebowelsofthisbeastyoushouldbeabletosee thelocationofthekeystoneweareseeking.Canyouseeit?”
TheRavensraisedmeupacoupleofinches.Ilookedattheguts.Icouldn’thelp butnoticethatthemannerinwhichtheywerearrangedresembledthetrefoil spiralstaircaseofthebuildingwewerein.Andrightinthecenterofthepile,at theendofthehose,therewassomethingredandshinylikearuby,itsbright glowvisiblethroughtheslime‐coveredflesh.Iswearitlookedlikethe Supermanlogo.
“YesIcanseeit,”Isaid.“Canyou?”
Helookeddownatthepileofintestines.Hewassilentforawhile,breathing heavilybehindhismask.Thenheatlasthelookedatmeandspoke.
“That’swhatIhaveyoufor.Canyourememberexactlywhatyouseehere?
We’llneedtousethisinformationlateronintherites.”
“WellIdon’thaveaphotographicmemory,ifthat�
�swhatyou’reasking,”Isaid.
“Whydon’tyoutakeapicture?”
Hesaidnothingforamoment.
“Yousaidyouwantedaccuracy.I’minpainandonmorphine.You’dbesttakea picture.There’sacellphoneinthepocketofmyjacketunderneathmyrobe.It mightstillhavesomejuiceleft.”
Rosenberglaughedatthat.
“I’lldoitmyself,”hesaid.“Butthankyouforremindingmeaboutyourphone.”
Hereachedintohispockedandtookouthisownphone,thentappedthesideto openthecamerafunction.Heframeduptheshotandactivatedtheflash.
Inthedarkcave,thesuddenburstoflightwasblinding.
“Ravens,removethelady’sphonefromherjacket,please,andopenupthephoto gallery”hesaidtothemenholdingme.
TheRavenonmyrighthikedupmyrobe,andfumbledinmyjacketpocketfor thephone,unnecessarilysqueezingmyrightbreastintheprocess.
“Stopit,youpig!”Iobjected.Rosenbergchuckled.Sothendidseveralothers.
“MissAuger,genuflectionisultimatelyasignofsexualsubmissionmadeintoa societalcustom.It’sanevolutionaryvestigeofourwildbestialancestors.
Theanimalsdoitwhenevertheyloseafight,orwhenevertheydon’tevendare tofight.Itwasfirstpracticedbyhumantribesconqueredinwar,toobtainmercy fromthevictors.Thenitwasmadeageneralsignof“respect”fromslavesto theirowners.WhydoyouthinkMuslimsputtheirassesintheairwhenthey submittoAllah?”
TheRavenwiththephonehelditoutinfrontofmewhilehispartnernowtook controlofbothofmylegs.
“What’stheswipecode?”theRavenwiththephoneasked.
“It’sthesignofJupiter,”Ianswered.
“Huh?”hesaid.
“It’slikeanumber4,”Isaid.
Hetookoffhiswhitegloveandtriedtodrawa4withhisfingeronthecoverof thephone.Itdidn’twork.Sohetookoffhismaskandsquintedatthephonein thetorchlight.IsawthatitwasDrexella’spimple‐faced,greasy‐hairedson, Dennis.
Iputallofmyweightonmylefthandandreachedouttodrawtheswipecode onmyphonewithmyrighthand.Igotinatonceandthenhastilyputmyright handdownagainsothatIwouldn’tfallforward.Evenwiththemorphine,the musclestrainfromhangingthereandthepainfromtheinjurywasunbearable.
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