Dust to Dust (17 page)

Rainier came forward, a hand outstretched to Scott.
“So nice to see you again,” he told Melanie. His English was only slightly accented with a hint of his native Italian, but then, Rainier spoke many languages extremely well.

“How do you do?” he said politely to Scott. “My name is Rainier Montenegro.”

“Scott Bryant. How do
you
do?”

“What are you doing here, Rainier?” Melanie asked, dismayed to hear the desperation in her own voice.

Rainier looked at her, smiling with empathy. “I am a—Taurus, and my presence is required, it seems,” he told her. “The third earth sign. Like you, I have been called here, drawn here.”

“Are you a member of the Alliance?” Scott asked bluntly.

Melanie stared at him, startled.

“Yes,” Rainier said, looking at Scott, clearly intrigued by him.

“Ah! You are all here!” Sister Maria Elizabeta's voice was pleased.

Rainier introduced himself to her, and she…sized him up, smiling. Then she reached out and touched his cheek, and Melanie thought that perhaps that touch was the nun's way of being certain that the right people had come to her.

“And so we begin,” the elderly nun said at last.

Scott said, “Before we start, Lucien called last night. He said that I was to ask you what you know about Bael.”

“Bael?” the nun asked, frowning. The name obviously meant something to her.

She nodded gravely, thoughtfully.

“He goes by other names, as well. The Irish knew him as Balor, a one-eyed king of the Fomorians, a race of giants. Sometimes he is Baal. In my world he is a demon under Satan, a fallen angel. He is the kind of spirit who can enter into others and make them do his evil bidding, cause chaos and hurt others, anything to damage the soul. He was cast out of heaven in the wars against heaven, and he is very dangerous indeed.”

“Surely, Sister,” Scott protested, “you don't really believe in…demons? I mean, that demons are real, that they have substance.”

“If you believe in goodness, then surely you must believe in evil,” she answered him gravely. “The Church says that hell is the absence of God, but that very explanation gives rise to more questions. Do I believe in evil? Very much so. We have all seen it at work, whether it is perpetrated by man or demon. Why has Lucien asked about Bael?”

“Some thugs in Los Angeles are claiming that Bael made them attack a man and a woman and destroy a shop,” Scott explained.

“Lucien is there now?” she asked worriedly.

“Yes.”

She nodded. “It has begun. It has begun with the earth erupting and spewing forth the black fog of evil that is Bael's earthly cloak. He hides in the shadows. He can find weakness in the heart, in the soul. He can find a man's lack of faith and exploit it. He can call upon other evil spirits to do his bidding, and a man's life and sanity may depend upon his faith.”

Melanie saw that Scott was watching Sister Maria Elizabeta politely but skeptically. He was there in Italy, having followed his dreams and his instincts. But he didn't really believe.

She found that she was more worried about him than ever.

“When one doesn't believe, one is vulnerable,” Melanie said to Sister Maria Elizabeta, indicating Scott with a slight tilt her head.

But the sister wasn't to be shaken from her certainty. “It is for you to crush the evil that will spill from the earth. The three of you together. You represent the earth. Capricorn, Taurus and Virgo. This task has been entrusted to you, and the world must pray that you see it through.”

“So where do we begin?” asked Scott.

“We must enter the catacombs. Well,
you
must. I am not sure that I have the strength any longer,” the sister told them.

“Where is the entrance?” Scott asked.

“Beneath the altar,” she informed him with a smile.

She led the way. Scott looked at Melanie, then more guardedly at Rainier, and turned to follow the sister. Melanie followed him, aware that Rainier was close behind her.

She hadn't noticed the trapdoor in the floor, but then again, it wasn't meant to be noticed. The dust of the ages seemed to have settled over it, and when Sister Maria Elizabeta pointed out the ancient iron ring, camouflaged in a design in the tile flooring, even Scott had to strain to open it. There was a heavy creaking, and
pale dust choked the air when he succeeded. He paused, looking at the sister.

“When was someone last down here?” he asked.

She smiled. “Long ago. The church stands here to protect the dead and the tunnels through which early Christians often fled to safety. But remember, it was built upon a pagan temple. Some say that this church also stands here to guard against the evil, ancient and of our world, that might otherwise rise from the earth. You will find one altar below, and many tunnels, and one of those will lead to the place where the twelve hallways of the ancients break off. Perhaps, today, you should simply read the inscriptions cut into the stones below and see what wisdom they hold. But to explore the tunnels, you will need lights. Even with them, it will be dangerous. There have been many quakes and tremors here, as well.”

Scott reached into his pocket and produced a slim flashlight. “We'll see you in a while,” he said, then turned and carefully followed the ancient stone steps down into the darkness below.

M
elanie followed Scott down into the darkness. Rainier followed her.

It felt almost as if they had discovered a portal to hell.

Scott's flashlight was surprisingly bright, and in its reflected glow, he glanced back over his shoulder at Melanie. She was looking at Rainier, who seemed faintly amused by what was happening.

These steps led them to a circular room, smaller than the one above them, but similar. The saints were once again shown being martyred on eleven panels, while the twelfth featured Saint John, the light and the darkness. There were sconces set in brackets between the panels, and Scott lit one, then tossed the lighter to Rainier. Between the three of them, they soon had all the sconces burning. An acrid smell filled the air, and she thought that these lights probably hadn't burned in centuries.

The small circular altar room came alive in the glow. They could see that the altar itself was a simple piece, a block of solid rock, with twelve sides.

“Damn!” Scott exclaimed, bending low to read, then looking up at the other two. “I'm not sure what the hell I was expecting, but I don't read ancient Sumerian—or whatever this is. Though I see some Latin over here. I can probably make that out, thanks to Catholic school,” he said.

Rainier hunkered down behind him as Scott started translating aloud. “Once the ancients referred to him as god, but to them he was but one of a group of gods, and never
the
God, He whom we hold most dear.

“We shall refer to none as god but
the
God. Bael has been banished back to his place with the legion of demons. In Hell the demons are divided, but none amongst them can bear that man knows they are not He who reigns as true king. Bael is he who died and was returned to them. Death takes all, and the new order will awaken all. Bael is called many names in many languages, but be forever careful and warned, for it is he, the minion of the most damned, Satan, who was of the land and with the land, and he will seek to destroy mankind through the power of the earth. When the planets near alignment at the solstice of the omens, it is Bael who will begin the destruction, seeking to raise what is dust and return it to form, seeking to use the dead as he would use the living. For his power is in trickery. He knows the hearts and minds of men and all creatures of the earth, the beast and the innocent, and he will prey upon the very souls of the unwary.” Scott stopped reading. “Wow. That helped a lot. Does either of you read ancient Sumerian?”

“I think,” Melanie said, hunkering down beside him,
“that there are four ‘readings,' if you will, each repeated in three languages. You read the Latin of the first one, this is the ancient Sumerian version, and the third is the same thing in ancient Greek.”

“Great,” Scott grumbled. “The Latin version of the next one is too worn to read.”

“I can read the ancient Greek,” Rainier said. He, too, crouched down beside them. “Virgo, she is the ancient mind, the reason, and orderly in all things, and she sees the earth ever for what it is, what it gives and what it must take. She is the goodness of the earth, all that rebuilds and stays steady and strong. She must learn her strength and her faith, and in doing so, she will see what is to be done, what road must be taken. She will accept the truth when it cannot be believed—she will refuse the darkness when it comes.”

“That's you, I'm assuming,” Scott said. “I can read the Latin over here…Taurus. He must…plow? Yes, plow ahead with the horns of the bull, for he has learned his power. He will take the road when it is blocked, but he must listen to the reason of others. If he stumbles, he will be supported, for the earth and those of the earth are strong, stronger than the demons, for good is greater. He will hold the line.” Scott looked at them in disgust.

“We could have found this in the newspaper's Sunday horoscope.”

Melanie ignored him. “I can read Latin, too,” she said. “Here's yours. Capricorn. He will nurture, and he will be steadfast. Whatever labor is called for, he will see it through to the end. The earth will rumble, but he will never falter. His strength against all odds will be
needed, and he will support the earth, for the earth has been his well, and his logic and reason will see that the battle is not lost in the dream. He will step forward, steadfast, even when he must go forward alone.”

“Seriously, the Sunday horoscope,” Scott said, then stood and began dusting off the top of the altar. He let out a slow whistle.

“What is it?” Melanie asked, straightening.

Rainier took a sconce from the wall and raised it over the altar. “Yes, what is it?” he asked.

“There's the picture you drew on the plane,” Scott said. He reached into his pocket and produced Melanie's drawing. He'd added lines to it, turning it into a two-dimensional map. And there, engraved on the stone of the altar top, was the same map, identical in every way. The stone alongside the road, the church…

“Sunday papers?” Melanie asked. He saw the triumph in her eyes.

He was surprised to find that he suddenly felt suspicious. He took her by her shoulders, turning her to face him. “You've really never been here before?” he asked her.

She shook her head. “Never.”

She was telling the truth. He could see it in her eyes.

Scott released her and ran his flashlight around the circular room. He could see the long underground corridors that stretched from it, and vaguely, lying on the recessed shelves that lined those corridors, he could see the bones of the dead.

“Perhaps we should start out,” Rainier said.

Scott shook his head. “I say we come back when we have some stronger flashlights with us. But what the hell are we looking for, anyway?”

“Maybe we don't know yet,” Melanie said. “Maybe…all right, I know this sounds crazy, but maybe I'm supposed to draw it first.” She smiled. “If I'm reading this correctly, we need one another, and I'm supposed to be the one who figures out our road.”

“I dreamed of those corridors,” Rainier said.

“So did I,” Scott told him dully.

“Bambini?”
Sister Maria Elizabeta called from above. Her voice was worried.

“We're coming,” Melanie assured her.

“We should follow these paths now,” Rainier said.

Melanie laughed. “The bull is impatient to ram something.”

Rainier made a face at her, and she smiled, and Scott found himself wondering again just where and when the two had met, and just how far their friendship had extended. He felt an evil rising within himself—jealousy. He gritted his teeth and clamped down on it. Hard. No matter how he felt—and he wasn't even sure of that at this point—he had no rights when it came to Melanie, and he knew it. Whatever had happened in the past was nothing that anyone could change, and even in the present, she had warned him that certain aspects of her life were hers, and hers alone. He let out a breath. He needed to get a grip.

“We've discovered nothing,” Rainier said, sounding frustrated.

“We've discovered each other—and the relevance of
Melanie's drawings,” Scott pointed out. He, too, was anxious to find out what the hell all this was really about. His head seemed to be swimming; he couldn't forget his conversation with Lucien.

The thugs on the night of the quake hadn't known one another. One man was a professor, another an ex-priest. And they claimed that Bael had been controlling them.

“My children?” Sister Maria Elizabeta called out.

“Coming!” Melanie assured her. She glared at Scott and Rainier, then started back up the stone steps. Scott let Rainier precede him, then looked back as he followed the other man. The sconces still burned.

He stared down at the top of the altar, and he saw what seemed to be a dark shadow falling over the map etched into the stone.

And he thought he heard a whisper in his ear.

Scott
.

He looked up. Melanie was just reentering the church above; Rainier still blocked his way.

He almost started back down.

Fool, come down and finish it. I can end this for you, rid you of the Norseman. You want her, and you can have her. You can fuck her and fuck her and fuck her, and never have to deal with him. He can die.

Scott started and swore aloud, wondering if the whisper had come from within his own mind, if he hadn't conjured it along with his jealousy of Rainier. The shadow still lay atop the altar, shifting in the candleglow. It was almost as if the undulation of light and dark was beckoning to him.

He turned away, feeling ill. He didn't want to kill Rainier. He didn't want
anyone
dead. What the hell had gotten into him?

Think of his hands on her. Think of them sweating and rutting. Think of him where you want to be, of all that he has taken, all that he can still take from you,
will
take from you. I can help you see that he dies for good, that he is dust that never rises again. Don't you see the evil in both of them? And the nun, she has you all fooled. She is evil…. Picture it. Picture her going down on that would-be Viking, think of what he will do to her,
with
her, fucking, fucking, fucking.

“Hey, hurry up, up there!” Scott said aloud. What the hell was going on in his mind? He never used words that were so coarse, words that changed the nature of everything.

It was something in the shadows, in the ancient dust sifting through the air.

Scott climbed out and stood gratefully on the church floor once again. He closed the trapdoor, then looked at Rainier and Melanie and started to laugh. They were white with dust from the catacombs.

“I know the first order of business,” he said.

“You do?” Melanie was surprised.

“Showers,” he said gravely.

“But…this can't be all there is,” Rainier said.

“It is not,” Sister Maria Elizabeta said. “You have come together, and you have learned the secret of the altar tablets.”

Scott didn't want to argue with her, although he didn't feel as if he'd learned a damned thing of any use.
Maybe it was all bunk. Maybe he really was losing his mind. Were those whispers in his head nothing but a vile fantasy created by his own sick mind? The thought made him ill, but the voice in his mind was gone, gone as if it had never been.

“So what now?” Melanie asked.

“We'll come back tomorrow with heavy-duty flashlights and some old-fashioned weapons,” Rainier said firmly.

To fight corpses? Scott thought.

But the sister nodded, as if she had just heard the most logical thing in the world. “Now that you are together, you are one. And I must rest.”

She turned away from them, and Scott realized that she was coming and going via a door that blended into the panel of St. Paul's torture and execution.

“Let's go,” Melanie said.

Rainier fell into step with Scott as they followed her. “So Melanie didn't tell you anything about me?” he asked.

“No, not really,” Scott said evasively. The tall man at his side might look like a Norseman, but he had the hint of an Italian accent. “Old friends, huh?”

“So she has not explained everything,” Rainier said.

Scott felt his temper rising. But he wasn't seeing sexual images in his mind, nor did he want anyone dead. He just wanted to belt the guy.

“Were you two…together?” Scott asked, as if it were merely a casual question.

“Together?” Rainier asked. “Oh, no. We are friends, very old friends. No, I meant…well, apparently, there are things she still needs to tell you.”

Melanie had heard him and stopped. She was staring at Rainier, and her look was both angry—and afraid.

What the hell was going on? Scott wondered.

“A car! Wonderful,” Rainier said.

“Where are we dropping you?” Scott asked.

“I'm at a place on the Piazza Navonna, but I'll transfer to your hotel. Where are you staying?” Rainier asked.

He must have seen something in Scott's expression, because he explained, “I believe we need to be close, the better to work together. Melanie can arrange a reservation for me. I'll be along this evening.”

“Great,” Scott said. Nope, not a single trace of enthusiasm in his voice, but at least there wasn't a trace of rancor in it, either. Still, he was aggravated. This guy was amused that he knew something about Melanie that Scott didn't.

Scott didn't appreciate feeling as if he were the only one not in on the joke—or the dark secret. Whichever it was, he resented not being included.

When they reached the city, Scott drove past the city's ancient landmarks again; the Forum, the Coliseum and the Palatine Hill, where once upon an ancient time the very rich had built their homes.

His eyes were not drawn to the hill, though, or even to the immensity of the Coliseum. He watched the area around the Forum. The idea of living shadows struck him again, though because he was driving, he couldn't really watch. But there was definitely something odd. He wasn't seeing real shadows, just strange wisps of floating blackness.