Part 60

Before the shrieks of panic split the chamber, a scream of a different sort rose from the front of the room. Something transformed Harper Groll's masculine voice into a high wail of agony. It ended in a gurgle and a thump,and then the shuffling of feet.

The primal, animal stench rolled across the crowd. The stench, or the energy that drove it, caused one of the torches near the altar to ignite. The reddish-orange fireball sent a blaze of light over the altar, revealing the trembling, emasculated figure of Harper Groll on the floor, twitching in a pool of his own blood.

Those who'd been charging the altar halted; their eyes searching.

"SILAS, LOOK OUT!!" Oscar Bartleby shouted.

Silas Grieves spun to his right, toward the last sight he would see that night. The single torch winked out.

Darkness.

"The Torches!" Silas screamed. "Somebody Light The AAAIIGH! AA! AAA!"

Another torch flared to life.

"DON'T JUST STAND THERE!" Silas spun wildly before the altar, howling in panic. "TORCHES!" Droplets of blood flew from his face... "SOMEBODY LIGHT THE TORCHES!" ...from the empty sockets where his eyes had been an instant before-

Darkness.

Oscar ran toward the spot in the darkness where Silas had been. He collided with something... someone... and instantly seized it.

It didn't fee like a boy.

Something warm and wet spattered Oscar's hands, and whoever he was holding stiffened-

-a few seconds of light from nearby torch revealed the shape to be Jacob Bass, now missing a good portion of his throat.

Several men had converged on the still-whirling Silas Grieves. Several more were running toward him.

"SOMEBODY KEEP THOSE TORCHES LIT!" Oscar shouted.

-wait? Why were the running toward him!?

Pain lanced across both his calves as the room plunged into darkness. Tendons snapped. Flailing in panic, Oscar toppled, pulling the twitching corpse of Jacob Bass down on top of him.

"KEEP THE LIGHTS ON!"

Oscar shoved the corpse to one side and rolled to the other. There were too many footsteps and shouting tell who or what might be nearby.

Someone grabbed him. Strong fingers slid around his throat.

"GOT YA!"

Oscar swung his fist blindly, striking someone...

"AG! DAMN YOU!"

Several torches flared up, and more joined them. Some died instantly, others remained lit almost long enough to be replaced by another nearby torch. Alternating patches of darkness and light chased each other across the chamber.

Oscar looked up to find Lowell Vern staring down at him.

"Reh!" Vern spat. "You."

"He got my legs!"

"Yer lucky that's all he got. Where is he? Do ya see-"

"THERE!" Oscar pointed to the small crowd that had assembled around Silas Grieves. Grieves was waving them away, shouting orders as if his eyes hadn't been carved out of his skull mere seconds ago. Behind them, the boy crouched on top of the stone altar, watching them in cold silence.

"GET HIM" Lowell shouted.

Several faces turned toward the red-smeared figure as it sprang into their midst. Blood sprayed from the throat of one man. Another spun away, briefly facing Lowell and Oscar... flashing a lipless red grin before darting away, shrieking.

The boy hit the floor in the center of the remaining gray robes.

He never stopped moving. He twisted to unseal the torso of one man from crotch to ribcage. Before the first splatter of blood could reach the stone floor, he lashed out again, both blades flying in different directions.

The two gray robes closest to him spun away, bleeding and stumbling... falling...

Someone turned to run.

The boy leapt onto the fleeing woman's back-

The flickering pattern of the torches reached the altar, shrouding the entire area in near-darkness.

When the nearest torch flared to life once more, the woman was down just a few paces away. Her head lay twisted around backward, the bloodied dome of her exposed skull facing them. Her face had been sliced neatly away. Beside her, the boy crouched, dangling a bloody rag from the tip of his dagger.

...a bloody rag with eye holes.

Oscar screamed.

The boy looked at him... then at Lowell...

His eyes flickered, their gaze transforming from murderous amusement to cold, hard rage.

"I AIN'T SCARED 'A YOU!" Lowell shouted. "COME ON AND GET ME THEN!"