"What are you babbling about?"
He shook his handsome head. "Not babble, Roma. I spoke with the Dark One's emissary early this morning, just before dawn. She told me that Whitfield is cut off; no escape. All is lost except for the taking of Balon's whore. That is why our Master returned here."
"Then … he is here?"
"Nearby. Angry. Brooding."
"But I spoke with him last night!"
"He is not angry with us. He knows the warrior is here—or at least suspects it—and is furious that his enemy would allow such a breach of the rules."
Roma laughed. "Those so-called 'rules' are unimportant; for the most part a myth."
"But our Master believes his enemy should abide by those rules—since He professes to be so holy."
Roma quietly picked up on the reversal of roles between herself and Falcon. "You have suddenly become quite knowledgeable, darling."
"Your time is short, Roma, and growing shorter with each tick of the clock. He has elevated me to a more lofty position here on earth."
"Congratulations, Falcon. It was only a matter of time."
He nodded his acceptance and appreciation of her citation. "He is mulling over a suggestion of mine."
*Oh?"
"That we breach all rules of the game; kill the young warrior now, just after we call out the forces present invisibly at all black masses."
"How did he receive that suggestion?"
"Well, I think."
"It's dangerous, Falcon, and could easily get out of control. Have you ever seen the calling out of the forces?"
"Truthfully … no. But Black Wilder told me once, oh, back in Germany, three centuries ago, back when I was a young buck, racing willy-nilly about, that he witnessed it once. Said it was quite spectacular, in a bell, book, and candle way. He was quite young .when he saw it … about two hundred, I believe he said. In this life, that is. Said it came very close to frightening him."
"It is frightening, Falcon. And in my condition, I could not witness it; too dangerous." She was thoughtful for a moment. "While it is dangerous, calling out the spirits, you must have done some research on the subject."
Falcon smiled.
"I thought as much," she returned the devilish smile. "If God's warrior is here, that would infuriate the ancient warrior, and he would have to fight, for it is his nature to do that. Our forces might win—and I stress might—but if they lost, it would seriously deplete our od forces on this planet."
"I took that into consideration. We would call out only those within a certain, prescribed distance of this locale, and only every other one, thereby insuring us a reserve."
"Wise. When did our Master say he would reach his decision?"
"An hour before dawn, tomorrow. If our Master's reply is yes, a special mass will be called for tomorrow night—midnight."
"You will need two virgins and another young one for the altar, to cut out her heart."
"We have them. The children from the city. Black will have to take part, and that is the only stumbling block I can see."
She shook her head. "My son is weak; not to be trusted. But I think perhaps a visit from the Dark One might put some steel in his backbone."
Falcon arched an eyebrow expressively.
"I will speak to the Prince if his answer is yes to the calling out."
Falcon nodded and turned to leave. "Oh," he said, "I saw Nydia and God's young warrior leaving the house a moment before I came here. They were practically beaming with love. I found it disgusting."
For a moment, Roma was flung back in time, to Whitfield, Fork County, to a little creek, beside which lovers lay, performing a marriage ceremony without benefit of legal entanglements. She smiled, a bittersweet movement of her lips, the smile touched with evil.
"Why are you smiling?" Falcon asked.
"I was thinking about a marriage I witnessed back in '58."
"Whitfield?"
"Yes. I think Sam and Nydia are about to do the same."
"It must have touched you, Roma. For you to remember something so trivial all these years."
Her returning gaze was hard. "In a manner of speaking. I puked after they left."
"Here," Nydia said, looking at the familiar surroundings. "Where you made me a Christian."
"I didn't make you a Christian, Nydia," Sam replied. "You made yourself a Christian. I just dropped a few sprinkles of water on your head." His face changed after saying that, hardening.
"What's wrong, Sam?"
"I was thinking about holy water, and how quickly it killed that man last evening. Last evening," he said softly. "So much is happening so fast."
"We must have picked up several quarts of holy water in the city," Nydia reminded him.
"We'll probably need every drop before this is over." And he smiled mischievously, one hand dropping into his jacket pocket.
"Why are you smiling, Sam?"
He pulled out a tiny vial of water. "I think we can spare this, don't you?"
Sudden tears sprang into her eyes. "Oh, Sam, I love you."
"I love you, too." He gently kissed her mouth. "You got the Bible?" He did not notice the tiny marks on the side of her neck, right above the vein.
"Yes. Where do I open it?"
"I haven't the vaguest idea. Let's sit down and look at it "
They sat and read for a time, reading various verses of different books of the Bible. Then Sam turned to the beginning. Together, they read parts of Genesis, neither of them knowing that Sam Balon had done the same thing when he married young Sam's mother in that impromptu ceremony, witnessed only by God and a tiny singing bird.
"I like this," Nydia said, pointing to chapter two verses 23 and 25.
"Then that's what it will be," Sam said.
They read the passages aloud, and then solemnly anointed each other's head with a tiny bit of holy water. They kissed tenderly, gently, Nydia saying, "I guess we're married."
"In whose eyes is the question," the strong voice came to them both.
"Did you hear that?" Nydia asked.
"Yes." Sam looked around him, and when he spoke, it was directed at the mysterious voice. "What do you mean: in whose eyes?"
But the voice was silent.
"I sensed his presence in the room this morning. Strong and male and fearless. I was going to say something about it, but the marriage idea came right on top of it."
Sam smiled. "Interesting choice of words. The voice speaks in riddles, I'd better warn you of that."
"Not this time. The hooved one has made his decision. You, young warrior, are marked for death. A special mass has been called for tomorrow night. They will attempt to call out the forces of darkness. If they succeed, I will do battle with them. You will know at midnight tomorrow night if their calling has been successful. If so, you must take your … wife and leave the house immediately. Do not attempt to fight them alone, they are too wily for your young age. You both must run and hide in the timber. But, a word of warning: you cannot travel past the set boundaries. You will know them, for they are easily seen. Remember, young warrior, your sole purpose is to destroy this coven, and tablet, if possible."
"Tablet? What tablet?" Sam asked.
"The Devil's tablet. It is here. Hidden."
"And if I destroy it, what happens?"
"That is an unanswerable question, for it has never been destroyed."
"Wonderful," Sam said sarcastically. "How will I know this tablet?"
"It will know you, for the tablet is evil, and you represent good."
"May I ask what may appear to be a foolish question?"
"Ask."
"Why me? And who are you?"
"That is two questions. Which do you want answered?"
"The first one."
"Because you are who you are."
"Thank you so very much!"
"Sam!" Nydia touched his arm. "Don't be ugly to … him."
"You are … good," the voice rumbled in their heads. "Both of you. Not perfect, but no mortal is. And I have made my decision: I will help you."