A Song of Redemption

by Lillian I Wolfe

  “In your cemetery?”

  Giving her head a short shake, she answered, “No. Outside my greenhouse. It seemed to be searching for something or someone. Possibly me. When it spotted me, it seemed to grow larger and then vanished. At first, I thought it was just a reflection or a shadow, but those don’t have red eyes.”

  “You’re right. Come on. Let me show the less attractive section of this graveyard.”

  I motioned her back the direction we’d come. We walked in silence, my mind replaying the ugly scene with Janna, as we made our way to the junction leading to the mausoleum. At this point, the grass was still deep green, but as we ambled along the path, even the silver of it began to seem smudged. A sense of unease settled on me.

  “It feels different,” Elly said, keeping her voice low. “Not a good sensation.”

  “Yes. You’re sensing the change also. The mausoleum is just over that rise ahead.”

  We proceeded up the small hill, and as we crested, the view ahead spread before us. Elly gasped in shock while I simply came to a dead stop and gazed in despair.

  Black tendrils of thorny vines wrapped around the entire far end of the marble structure while sick-looking blood-red blossoms wept on it creating rust-colored stains where their venom dripped. Even the untouched marble now showed a dark blue cast as if an infection had entered it, killing it. Beyond the crypt, the vines, black bushes, and newly twisted trees filled the way to the thicker barrier. The plants between them were losing the battle. Some of the trees still had branches with green and yellow leaves as they struggled to avoid being choked by the evil encompassing them.

  Tears filled my eyes. We had to stop them. Somehow.

  “It’s so much worse than when I was here last week,” I choked out. “I don’t know how much more time we have. We have to protect the gate.” I hadn’t thought about it before that moment, but the ultimate goal for Belphegor and his demons would be to gain control of the gate and the light.

  Elly looked pale, her spirit-self reflecting her physical-self’s reaction. “It’s horrifying. How can we stop this?”

  “There has to be a way. We were chosen, and if there are others, we need to find them and get their help. We’re running out of time. Can you create anything that can combat those vines?”

  “God, I don’t know,” she answered, unable to pull her eyes away from the view. Visibly shaking herself, she stepped forward to move down the hill. I followed keeping a cautious eye on the imposing forest ahead. If any yiaiwas showed up, we needed to exit as quickly as possible. I pressed my hand to the token glove at my waist.

  At the bottom, Elly stopped and knelt touching her hand to a milkweed plant that had grown there. Oddly, I’d never noticed any stray weeds in the lawns or gardens before. Now, with Elly’s touch, the little plant seemed to grow quickly, its leaves stretched out, anchoring to the ground about six inches away, and creating a new growth that did the same thing.

  Elly stood and watched her weed rope advancing on the nearest black vine. It was still nearly one hundred yards away. But the growth seemed to be getting bigger and stronger as it extended. “At least, we know my magic works here.”

  Watching in fascination, we waited as the milkweed stormed across the grass to meet the thorn vine. Once the vine sensed the threatening weed, it began to wiggle out to confront it. One last lunge and the milkweed made contact and started to wrap itself around the vine. For a short time, they looked like a pair of wrestlers tangling with each other, each trying to get the upper hand. Milky white oozed out of the weed covering the vine, and it stalled for a few moments before a shoot further back leaped forward to strangle Elly’s plant. The struggle went on for about five minutes until the weed couldn’t hold on any longer. As it died, the long, linked string it had created began to dry up and darken.

  “I need something toxic enough to kill that vine. I wish I could get a sample of the vegetation to know what might do it,” Elly said.

  “Even if we could get close enough to cut a sample, you couldn’t take it back to test.”

  I recalled my own painful encounter with that vine’s thorns.

  “I have some ideas that I want to test on the ethereal level at home,” Elly said. Her eyes grew distant as she thought.

  “Uh oh,” I said as a yiaiwa zoomed over the barrier. “We need to get out of here.”

  Elly gaped but didn’t move, watching as the shadowy figure flew to the battleground between the plants. It studied the damage and began tracking the now dead trail of milkweed. I grabbed Elly and pulled her back, urging her to run up the hill.

  Glancing back, I saw the vile creature begin to move toward us. I halted, pulled the glove out and slammed it to the ground as I said, “I’ll call you later.”

  As the glove hit, it vanished, as did Elly. I knew I’d find it on the floor by my bed back in my room, and Elly would be safely back in New Zealand.

  But I had something to do before I returned to my room. I ran for the gate. Why hadn’t I thought of this before? I rushed up to it, knowing the yiaiwa wasn’t far behind me and began chanting Gavin’s ward to protect it, and the entry to the light against evil. As I spoke the words and conjured the scents of the incense in my mind, I watched the silvery threads begin to weave into knots as the spell created a lace barrier surrounding the gate and the light’s entrance. It was the same ward I used on the house only this time I could see its beautiful structure.

  A prickle of the hairs on my neck caused me to spin in time to see the yiaiwa nearly on top of me. Without hesitation, I threw up my hand in a wide-open palm and sent a flash of energy that flung it back a dozen feet or so. With that, I released my trance and willed myself home.

  Only I was still here. Damn! Hoping for the best, I stepped through the ward to stand in the narrow space between it and the gate. I readied myself for another blast at the creature as it charged toward me. It hit the warded net and rebounded away, rolling across the lawn. It pulled itself up and seemed to stare for several moments at the gate before it retreated.

  Relief flooded through me, and I tried again to return to my body. I felt a prick of something sharp on my arm...

  I slumped forward over my still-crossed legs on the bed in my room. Beside me, Nygard batted at my arm. I shifted to look at him, seeing the fresh spot of blood where he’d dug in a claw. Saved by my cat...again.

  Feeling drained, I took several deep breaths before I unfolded my legs and stretched. While I may have done everything in spirit form, my body felt the activity as if it had been there. I shuffled to the kitchen and pulled a diet soda from the ‘fridge and sat at the kitchen table, gazing vacantly outside.

  Snow was falling, coating the ground with broken patches of white. With the dark dirt behind them, they resembled the uneven blotches of discoloration on the mausoleum. I needed to tell Orielle about the advancement of the vines and bushes as well as the newest development in my skill set.

  Going into the living room, I looked for her, but she wasn't there. I called out her name. No response. I glanced at the clock on the oven, surprised by the time. I’d spent over two hours on this experiment. It seemed to have gone much quicker than that. Usually, it was the other way around, I’d spent less time than I thought.

  I went back to my bedroom and spotted Elly’s glove on the floor. As I picked it up, I realized I needed to check with her to make sure she’d returned safely. My open laptop still sat on the bed. Waking it, I went into the email program.

  Three messages from Elly sat at the top of the list. I opened the first. She reported that she made it back and for me to contact her once I returned. The second was about fifteen minutes later, and she sounded more urgent.

  ::For cripes sake, reply ASAP:: the third one stated, a touch of panic in it.

  I sent a quick note back. ::Home safely. Gate and light secured. How are you?::

  She must have been sitting at the computer since the response came back quickly. ::I’m ducky, mate. But a little shaken. That shadow
beastie is bigger and more aggressive than the one I encountered. I was worried about you after you sent me back.::

  I took the time to explain what I did and let her know the protective wards worked.

  ::I don’t know how we can fight this::, she replied. ::I’m not anything more than a talented florist and half-trained botanist.::

  ::It won’t be just the two of us. There are others, and I’m going to pull them in. I already have two partners and my cat on the team.::

  ::Your cat? What does your cat do?::

  A smug smile settled on my lips as I typed. ::You will be amazed at what my kitty can do. Have faith and work on figuring out a poisonous vine that can combat the growth there. I think it might be the key to getting past that barrier. And it has to grow super fast.::

  Assured that Elly had come through the experiment okay, I set up my musical keyboard and turned back to the challenge of writing a spiffy jingle for those cauliflower chips. I picked up the bag, pulled out one, and crunched into it with a tentative bite. Not bad. Who would have thought? Now how could I make it desirable in a four-line jingle?

  Chapter 16

  OUR TAXI PULLED TO the side of the street and stopped, a flash of the Tiber River visible a few blocks away. As Orielle handed over the euros to cover the ride, I stepped out and turned to face St. Peter’s Square with the massive Basilica looming over it. Stunned, I gaped at it. Even more extensive than I’d imagined, the combined buildings took my breath away and left me speechless. I stood in the presence of the holiest city on Earth. Even for an agnostic, like me, the antiquity radiated power.

  “It is impressive, yes? One of the architectural masterpieces of the world. Famous artists contributed to what you see. Bernini designed the colonnades, Michelangelo did the Basilica. Other artists crafted the statues on the colonnades and over the balustrade.” Orielle’s voice held admiration and reverence.

  Finding my voice, I said, “I had no idea it would be so massive.”

  “Perhaps we can go look around after our meeting. The museums to the right are open to the public.”

  “Where does the Pope live? Is it close to the Basilica?”

  “It is not far. In the Apostolic Palace.” She raised her right arm to my sightline and pointed me to a building on the right side of the back section of the square and at a catty-corner to the Basilica. “There in that tall building. Later, I will show you more.”

  As I took a photo with my phone and sent it with a text message to Ferris, I hoped we would have time. I’d been disappointed to learn our meeting place with the agents this morning wasn’t within Vatican City but here in Rome at a spot near the square. Orielle nudged my arm, and I fell into step beside her as she took us to the corner a street back from the one in front of the square and turned to the left.

  We’d left Reno in the morning the day before, landed in New York, caught an overnighter to Rome, arriving this morning. I’d had about five uneven hours of sleep, but excitement kept my adrenaline flowing.

  I’d barely managed to get three different versions of the Caulmond chip jingle done and delivered the thumb drive to Ms. Chou on Monday afternoon along with a note that I’d be out of town for a few days. Then, Ferris had come over to get the key to Gavin’s house and meet Orielle. She liked him and assured him the house would be fully warded before we left, and it wouldn’t be broken by his coming and going. That left me feeling more comfortable about leaving Nygard so soon after moving to the new place.

  Our new road looked more like an alley than a city street with barely enough room for more than one car, particularly when you took the motorcycle and bike parking into account. The buildings along here all looked similar, old with tones of white and tan plaster or blocks. Looking up and across the way, I glimpsed the red rooftops I’d spotted when the airplane came over the city. I wondered how many centuries the shops in this section of Rome had witnessed.

  Orielle stopped in front of a pastry shop, our meeting place. “Did Lucca say outside or inside?” I asked as I considered that we might be pretty obvious if we continued to stand in front ogling the pastries with our tongues licking our lips. Well, at least mine was. They looked so invitingly delicious, especially the ricotta-filled horns with chocolate swirls on top.

  “He said ‘in front,’ so I presume he meant outside.” She turned her head to look up the street.

  She looked totally European business with a tailored suit dress in eggplant purple with matching pumps, and her thick, long hair pulled back into a neat bun. I felt sloppy in my black linen dress pants and casual jacket, but no one paid any attention. I’d half-expected the women to be dressed in designer clothes. On the other hand, many of them in this area were tourists, so even I was a little more chic than they were.

  I was contemplating going in for one of those horns when the stunningly handsome, even more so in person, Lucca came out of the shop with a latte in his hand. I caught my breath. He looked like a movie star, dressed casually in a sports jacket over his shimmering blue silk shirt. Ferko followed behind him, also holding a coffee, and looking less elegant in a plain black suit. His intense eyes and serious expression made him more rugged-looking and dangerous.

  Lucca slammed to a stop when he saw Orielle. He transferred his latte to his left hand and offered his right. “Signorina, welcome to Roma. We just stopped inside to get coffee. Did you just arrive?” He raised his eyebrows in a charmingly-hopeful way. He spoke English well suggesting he’d studied abroad at some point.

  Orielle held out her hand, and he took it with a gentle shake. Then he turned to me and flashed a sunshine smile, offering his hand again. I accepted it, feeling the strong fingers and warmth of his palm press briefly against mine. Were we sure he was an agent? He was far too charming to be deadly. Ferko, on the other hand, looked like he could easily kill someone.

  “Do you wish coffee?” Lucca asked. “I will get you some.”

  I shook my head while Orielle declined verbally.

  “Bene. We will go to our office now.” He motioned to Ferko to lead, then for us to follow while he stepped in behind us. Was he expecting trouble that he wanted to cover our backs?

  Ferris had worried about my unexpected trip when I’d first mentioned it, but when I’d broken down and explained that Orielle and I were going to a meeting in Rome, not a battleground, he’d been relieved. As we followed, and were followed, I hoped I’d told him the truth.

  Another block down the street, Ferko turned into a door at a travel agency, which was actually an entry to the agency, a flight of stairs up to the next level, and a narrow hallway that led to another door. We followed in single file as he unlocked that door then turned to the right to another set of stairs that descended to the basement. He flicked on the light over the staircase before he started down.

  Feeling uneasy about this, I followed Orielle down, wondering if we were being led into some kind of trap. My fingers twitched, wanting to ready an energy blast if I needed it.

  “It’s all right,” Lucca said behind me. “Our office is on the ground level and not accessible unless you have the keys.”

  His attempt to reassure me made me even more wary. At the bottom, an electronically keyed entry required Ferko’s fingerprint to allow access. Next, he had to enter a code and insert a key card. The metal door released, and he opened it, holding it from the inside to allow us to enter. Okay, this was really secret agent crap, and it made me nervous. Orielle seemed calm though giving me a little comfort. What were we getting ourselves into?

  I stepped through the door into a modern, technologically up-to-date observation center with cameras on the Vatican. Six computer monitors, placed in an arc, displayed various views of the Holy See, or so Ferko informed us as he showed us to a conference table and invited us to sit.

  “This is your office?” I asked as my eyes roved around the room. In addition to the monitors, the room held three computers, a big screen television, equipment that looked like it reported the weather, the sky over the
area, and who knew what else. One of them tracked a dot through an outlined area that stopped, turned, then resumed progressing.

  Ferko saw my eyes watching and said, in a deadpan voice, “His Holiness.”

  “You’re tracking the Pope?”

  “Of course,” Lucca said. “We want to know where he is all the time. Most times he has a bodyguard near him, but if something should happen when he is alone, then we would want to get help to him quickly. He also has a button he can push that sends us a signal.”

  “Are the two of you responsible all the time?” I asked.

  “No, no. We have two other shifts during the week and three shifts for just the weekends. Ferko and I are on the days during the week.” He picked up a folder from a metal desk in the right top corner and brought it to the table, then sat.

  “Now we talk,” he said. “This folder is a portion of what information we have about these shadow creatures.” With a flourish, he opened it. “Our first report was about three years ago in August. A bishop in New Delhi reported seeing an odd shadow creature that followed him for two blocks. He did not report the first encounter because he thought it must be his imagination. A few weeks later, another one showed up in the garden near the Cathedral. He said it had red eyes, was about two meters tall, and roughly man-shaped. That was when he sent a message to the appropriate office here. Does that date represent about when you began seeing the creatures?”

  Orielle and I glanced at each other, silently asking who should answer. I bowed my head, deferring to her.

  “Well, I actually haven’t seen them in the same context. My encounters have been on a different plane until recently. However, my colleague, Dr. Gaines first spotted them about twelve years ago while he was on a dig in the Middle East. He recorded the information with our research society at the time. He has since encountered them on Earth at least eight times, mostly at dig sites,” Orielle explained. She paused and motioned to me. “Gillian, on the other hand, has interacted with them several times, so she is more of an expert in that regard.”