Chapter 13
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
A thanatist may impart a small measure of his soul to mend and bind vestiges in his care. Exercise caution, however, as spiritual debt results from repeated impartings.
—Thomas of London, “Spiritual Affordance”
Out of the Westminster shadows skulked the creature that had twice chased me from my home. I had no word for it. Beast? Monster? Nightmare? I settled on “hellhound.”
The hellhound opened its massive jaws. Drool oozed from its mouth over three rows of long, razor-like teeth. Corded muscles flexed beneath its bloodied fur, which was even more torn and ragged than before. Its flesh and bones seemed to be outgrowing its skin.
The hound hunched and looked us over. It growled, the sound vibrating in the stone of the abbey. The foot lamps flickered and dimmed. And I began to feel an overpowering urge to rush this damned thing.
“Come on, you son of a bitch!” I pulled my knife, surging with rage, imagining how I’d gut this thing, and started toward it without help or a plan.
Cassius grabbed my shoulder and shook me, jolting me from my trance.
“Jack, you must steel your mind against it. Concentrate on how to defeat the enemy and be ready to cut its bindings.”
It had gotten inside my head again. I should have known better this time. Me and my knife alone against this thing was crazy.
“And me without my rods,” Kincaid muttered, edging toward the High Altar.
“Spread out,” I told Cassius, stepping to the right—we needed to divide its attention.
A brutal roar tore from the hellhound’s throat, echoing up into the vaulted ceiling. Plaster rained down from the dome. Cassius shouted “Bratros,” which seemed only to anger the beast, and it leapt at him, jaws snapping.
The centurion danced to the left and stabbed the hound in its side. The beast’s flesh tore open with a wet ripping sound. The creature shrieked and whipped its back end around, throwing Cassius against a marble pillar. His head slammed against the stone, but he kept his feet.
The hound then turned and prowled closer to me. Its matted fur reeked of sewage and blood. In the dim light of the floor lamps, I couldn’t see its bindings. I needed living flame.
“Kincaid, can you light the candles?”
“Got it.” The priest dug an old Zippo from his pocket and began to light the candles around the Cosmati Pavement.
The hound lowered its head, bared its teeth, and leapt at me. Cassius rushed in and thrust his sword at the beast’s throat, nicking its neck. It scrambled back, roared, and charged again, snapping at Cassius, then lunging at me again. I backpedaled and slammed into a wood bench.
I thought I was dead meat, but the hound jerked to a stop. Cassius was clutching the beast by its rear legs. He wrenched the hound back, its claws scoring the Pavement as it tried to scrabble toward me.
Kincaid lit more candles. In the light now beaming from the High Altar I could see, buried in the matted fur of the beast’s neck, a silver-and-black rope—its binding—and on the floor near my feet, its shadow, shimmering grey and rimmed by a thin violet halo.
That shadow pulled at me, until I recognized a part of its pattern—gleam notes flashing, two going down then going up—like a small portion of my own.
I was still staring down when the hound tore away from Cassius and whirled on him, too close for him to slash or stab with his sword. He drove the pommel down on the beast’s snout, knocking it to the floor. Blood spurted out over the Pavement as the creature howled and rolled toward the altar.
“I need more room,” I told Cassius.
The centurion thrust his sword at the beast’s face and shuffled to the left, drawing the hound away.
I circled around behind it, whispering to Kincaid to grab a candlestick and be ready to throw it to Cassius. The priest picked up a thick brass candlestick about the length of a Little League bat, ripped off the candle, and held the base ready.
The hound growled and snapped viciously at Cassius’s legs. The centurion danced clear as I slowly edged to the beast’s blind side.
Then I screamed, “Come get me!”
The hellhound spun its massive head and glared at me. “Well, come on.”
Blood and spit dripped from its teeth and tongue. It shifted around, its huge paws scraping the stone floor.
Cassius sheathed his sword and readied his hands. I nodded to Kincaid, who then threw Cassius the candlestick.
No way I could stab this thing to death. I backed away, holding my knife up in pitiful defense. I just needed to cut that binding collar.
The hound crept toward me.
“Take its back,” I said. “Then pull the candlestick into its mouth like a bridle.”
Cassius nodded.
I then let out a guttural death-metal scream, antagonizing the beast. And when the hound roared back, Cassius leapt, pulling the candlestick into its wide-stretched maw.
The hound’s mouth clanged shut around the brass rod, but Cassius yanked the candlestick back, breaking teeth and ramming it into the hound’s jaw joint.
The creature thrashed against the metal rod, but Cassius held it firm.
I dashed in and sliced at its binding collar with my knife.
No dice. The blade careened off without cutting a single strand.
The beast hissed and managed to flip itself around to face Cassius. I jumped on its back, grabbing the collar with my left hand. The hound bucked, but I hung on and started to saw at the rope. Still nothing.
“What am I doing wrong?” I shouted.
Cassius held the creature back with the candlestick as it bit at him. “Steel won’t sever a thanaturgic bond.”
So much for that idea.
The hound roared and kicked. Cassius raked the candlestick hard against the back of its throat, gagging the thing.
Shards of bloody teeth clattered to the marble floor, but the hound tore the candlestick from Cassius’s grip and whipped it away.
Then it reared, slashing out with its front legs and driving Cassius hard to the ground.
The beast then began swinging its head like a bull clearing brush with its horns.
Growling low and licking blood from its muzzle, it crept in on Cassius, who lay face down on the Cosmati Pavement.
I had no good weapons for this fight, but while it might get me killed, I wasn’t going to just let Cassius get mauled while he was down—the way my brother Dan had died.
I launched myself onto its back again. It bucked and thrashed, nearly throwing me off, its teeth gnashing the air next to my head and arms. But I dug my fingers deep into its bloody fur and hung on for dear life.
With a moment to recover, the centurion pushed himself to his feet and rushed in, burying his blade deep in the hound’s chest. The beast slumped and I rolled onto the floor.
The hound sprawled to its belly, blood spurting from its wound.
It tried to scrabble to its feet, but Kincaid came running in and kicked it in the side so hard that bones cracked.
The beast howled, staggered to its feet, and crept away beyond the cloister.
Cassius took two steps after it, then dropped to his knees in a puddle of blood.
Kincaid stood panting, facing the cloister. “I won’t be caught again without my rods.”
I leaned against a pillar to catch my breath. Whatever the hell that thing was, it had almost taken my head off. I’d be dead without Cassius and Kincaid. Took a few minutes to get my hands to stop shaking.
Fighting another guy was one thing, even if it was a knife fight. But this . . . it was like something out of a deathcore song.
“End of the world, huh?” I gestured at the blood-splattered mosaic.
Two priests rushed in from behind the altar, swords in hand. They shared a look with Kincaid, turned back behind the altar, and returned with a pair of mops and some wet towels. The priests handed us a couple of the towels to clean ourselves off, then set to mopping the Cosmati Pavement.
“Is this a regular occurrence for you?” I asked the priest. “No,” Kincaid answered.
I held up my knife and snapped it shut. “I couldn’t cut its bindings.”
Kincaid looked around at the candles. “I assumed you had a khopesh . . . uh, a thanatist’s blade.”
“I figured a knife’s a knife.”
Cassius wiped his sword clean. “You need proper gear, Jack.”
Kincaid shook his head. “Even then, I’m afraid that creature was no simple vestige.”
“No?”
“No, Jack,” said Kincaid. “That, God save us, was a wraith.”