Linda was strangely silent.
God's failures! The phrase leaped into Sam's mind.
And the young man questioned that statement: but how can . . . could God fail at anything?
He wished for the mighty voice to return: to answer his questions, but the voice was silent. Then he remembered something his mother had told him, something his real father had told her: nobody knows how many times God tried to make man in His own image … and failed.
Sam pondered that for a few moments, thinking: were the Beasts God's failures? What happened to cause the failure?
"I can't answer that, either, Sam," Nydia said. "Only He can answer that."
"I forgot you can read my thoughts. I wonder if we'll always have that power?"
"I … really hope not, Sam."
"Yeah, me too."
"You two can read each other's thoughts?" Linda asked, astonishment in her voice.
"Yes," Nydia said. "And sometimes other peoples' thoughts as well."
Sam glanced at her. "You know something I don't? he projected.
Nydia refused to reply.
"There's something going on down there," Linda said. "Look."
The participants in the calling of the forces had gathered in circles, several rings of them, each growing progressively smaller inward, the Beasts forming the larger outer circle. The circles began moving, the first clockwise, the next counterclockwise, the third circle clockwise, the inner circle counterclockwise. It was a grotesque form of dancing, the women dancing back to back, the men front to front. They hummed lowly, the faint humming only occasionally reaching the ridge, Standing by the dark altar was Falcon, his face whitened with makeup, in stark contrast to his black robe.
Sam stood with Nydia by his side, both of them watching through binoculars. "Hideous," was her only comment.
The humming changed into a chanting, the dancing becoming more profane. The chanting changed into a low roar as three young girls were dragged screaming through the dancing, leaping, chanting circles of worshipers. One was stripped naked, her clothing ripped from her. She was secured to the altar, her legs spread wide, bent at the knees. She could not have been more than eleven or twelve.
"I don't want to watch this," Nydia said. She lowered her binoculars and turned her face from the scene of depravity and sin.
"I want to see it," Linda said.
"I suspected you might," Nydia said, just loud enough for Sam to hear.
Sam's face remained impassive. He said nothing. He knew something was going on between the two young women, but did not know what. Linda took the binoculars, lifting them to her eyes. Nydia turned her back to the obscenity below her and sat down on a log, zipping up her jacket to her throat for protection against the strengthening wind.
"Call the hyenas!" a voice screamed, and the chanting grew thunderous.
"Dogges, Dogges," the circles screamed. "Hear our cries, 0, Dogges."
"Call the centaur!" the voice commanded.
A bleating young lamb was dragged into the circle. Its throat was cut and the blood sprinkled around the altar, encircling the naked, weeping girl.
"Centaurs, centaurs, those who prance for the Prince of Darkness. Ixion and Nephele, Kentaurus and Magnesian. Come to us now."
"Call the satyrs!"
"Diomedes! Dionysus! Flesh eater and Lord of all that is pleasurable. Come join us."
The flesh of the lamb was ripped from its body and passed about the circles, the dancers gnawing at the bloody strips of meat.
"Call the griffin!"
The chant went up.
"Call the owl and the raven!"
And Sam heard the beating of wings overhead. Something beat close to his head. Instinctively, he ducked, the talons just missing his head.
"Call the Great Rukh!"
The dancers began flapping their arms and shrieking hideously.
"Bring me the basilisk!"
"Where is Sirius?" the circles called.
"Sirius is in place," Falcon answered, lifting his arms skyward.
"Bring to us the double amphisbaena."
The circles hissed ominously.
Falcon threw a great caldron of water into the air, calling: "The hydra—come, hydra, those of you who know the Master."
"Come, hydra," the dancers chanted.
Another dark caldron of water was hurled into the cold air, Falcon shouting, "The Demon Merman."
The circle of leaping, hunching, chanting dancers began a movement that vaguely resembled a huge fish swimming.
"Bring the bats and the rats!"
The forest surrounding them became eerily silent.
Then a faint scurrying sound was heard, and something furry and evil brushed Sam's boots. He kicked it away just as Nydia muffled a scream. Sam whirled: a bat was entangled in her hair. She finally slapped it free and the furry filth went flapping and screeching off into the night, toward the torches and the stones.
"Black!" Falcon shouted. "Now!" he pointed to the terrified girl bound naked to the altar. Black jumped upon the altar.
Like Falcon, he was dressed in a dark robe. He lifted his robe, exposing his erect maleness. Lunging at the girl, he tore her bloody as he bulled his way inside her, laughing at her pitiful screaming.
The circle of dancers laughed with Black, howling their glee at the child's wails of pain. Falcon ran to her, teeth shining brightly in the torchlight. Fanged. He bent his head and tore at the vein in her neck, sucking her blood just as Black began his ejaculation.
Rats, the lower form of creatures that they are, began running and squeaking around the dancers, they, too, taking a joyful part in the evil ceremonies. Bats wheeled and cut the night, squeaking their contentment to be free of the darkness in which they had been confined.
"The merman!" Falcon looked up from the girl's throat, blood leaking from his mouth. He pointed to the sky as a horrible creature sluggishly made its way through the darkness.
Others of the Coven rushed forward to drink at the dying girl's fountain of gushing blood. A male member of the Coven took Black's place between the girl's legs, lunging at her as her body began to pale from the loss of blood.
"I don't believe I'm seeing this," Sam muttered.
"What is that thing?" Linda asked. "It looks like it's half man—or monster—and half fish."
"And part goat," Sam muttered, looking at the horned head of the merman.
"Call the little people!" Falcon shouted. "Come, imps. You have our Master's permission. Come!"
At first, Sam began to sense, more than see, the change in the sky. The change was very gradual, the flush in th sky above the circle of stones changing little by little, from a dark amber, through the color patterns, until finally it settled into a dark, bloody red, the glow transforming the scene before them and around them, their own faces and exposed hands now an ugly red.
"What is that smell?" Nydia asked, still sitting on the log behind Sam and Linda.
"Sulfur," Sam whispered.
"It's more than that," Nydia said. "It's … evil."
Linda looked at her.
The sky was now a color of Hell, the flames—real or imagined—licked the area above them, dancing down out of the sky to touch and mar the earth. The stink from the pits stung the eyes of the three on the ridge, wrinkling their noses against the smell.
As Falcon began another incantation, the sky was suddenly filled with bats, hundreds of them, their excrement falling to the ground with soft plops. The ground around the circle wriggled with rats, their red eyes reflecting dully in the torchlight and the strange coloration of the sky.
"Hear me, 0 Lord of Filth. Hear my cries, 0 Prince of Darkness. Hold us close to your chest, Apollyon. Let us taste more of your foulness; touch us with your lips; let us hear the sounds of your cloven hooves. For we, to a soul, are yours. Send the forces of all that is evil to aid us. Send the serpents and the demons, the denied and the defiled. Come to us, little people!"
And as if Merlin had suddenly waved his wand, the ground around the altar was filled with satanic imps, dancing and leaping and laughing wickedly.
The wind picked up, slamming its strength and coldness over the land, blowing first cold, then hot, confusing the elements. Falcon's voice grew stronger, ringing over the night-draped, red-tinged, evil-enveloped countryside.