Heresy: The Book of Mammon

Chapter 11

Chapter 11



Valimaar stood before the priest that hunched on the floor. There was an odd quality about him the night before. It was one that he recalled seeing previously. Father Papal’s eyes held a distinct, yet pale glow. It was as if he were looking into the eyes of an animal in the moonlight. The thought made his skin crawl, for he knew all too well what it meant. The priest was possessed just as he and his brethren were. What trust he had for the man was now gone, for he was a danger to Lokken, and a danger to himself.

He did not know if the priest was aware of his state, but that didn’t matter. A Daemon dwelled within him, and Valimaar could not allow it to be unleashed. He felt the cold of its spirit. It licked at his flesh in the dank air of the cell and its clawed fingers slithered across his limbs like serpents. Whatever Daemon it was, was evil.

He held his pistol in front of him with the hammer cocked. He knew that he could not afford to kill him, for there were still many questions that needed answering, but he was more than willing to defend himself. Father Papal’s chest rose and fell rapidly. Labored breaths disturbed the dust that floated about the dark room. It was possible that he was ill, but Valimaar was quite familiar with possession, and he knew that Daemons were quite fond of trickery.

It pained him to think of what it could have done to Lady Elaine that night. It appeared weakened, but he knew that the strength of a Daemon was far greater than one could assume. It could have very well lashed out at any moment. He could not bear any harm to come to her, for she was all he had in this terrible world. She was the only one he cared for. It was ironic. He himself housed the spirit of Ithaca within his soul, yet she never rejected him for it. She never judged him, or doubted him. The fact that he himself was possessed, didn’t seem to bother her in the least. Perhaps it was careless to be in her presence with such a dark burden on his soul.

He had wrestled the dark ambitions of the beast within and fought it into silent submission, but he could only guess as to whether it had done so willingly, or if he’d conquered it. Always, he felt its malice and hatred burn within him. It scorched his soul every waking moment, but he accepted what he was. If not him, then who would bear such a burden? He was experienced in the killing of evil, or so he thought. Surely, he was as good a choice as any. Father Gordon had seen a strength within him, and though it was obscure to him, there was little he could do but go along with it all. Much like he always had.
Lady Elaine’s opinions never lowered as well. Did she too see that same fire that the bishop had? She loved him, and he knew that love could often blind people from the cold truths of the world. It was the first time he’d ever been loved before, and his experience in the emotion was little more than a barren wasteland of mysterious enterprises, but he couldn’t help but wonder if it had in fact blinded her. He was a Daemon. Nothing more, and nothing less. He knew that he was just as much a danger to her as the priest that lay at his feet. It was foolish for him to even be in her presence in his state, and it was arrogant to not tell her about it.

He’d hid the fact that he was possessed from her, from the moment he learned of it. It was only a matter of time before she discovered it, which she did. Still, her thoughts of him never faltered, though his own opinions of himself grew ever more low.

The priest rolled to his side and soft moans escaped his dried lips. Valimaar readied himself, for there was no telling whether or not he would attack him, or raise a questioning eye.

His eyes opened and a haze clouded over the pale glow that he saw the night before. The priest rose from his stone bedding and he scanned the stone walls of the dark cell. He turned to Valimaar and stared down the muzzle of the pistol.

Kill him Valimaar
.
It was the first time he’d heard his voice in months. The chilling whispers that echoed across the dark voids of his mind sent shivers down his spine.

He is your enemy.

“I see you’ve decided not to trust me.” He nodded as he spoke, and stared into his eyes.

Valimaar could feel the cold grip of Daemons’ hands clenching his spirit like a vice.

“I’m afraid I cannot trust you Father Papal. You’re an Apostolic, and a Daemon.”

He smirked at the comment. “Indeed, I am both, but I have renounced the Ecclesiarchy. Valimaar, the evil that dwells within me is no different than the one that has claimed you. I did what I had to do to gain knowledge of Celestine’s ambitions.”

It was possible that he was speaking the truth, but Valimaar still could not afford the risk. His pistol never lowered.

“Now,” he said, as he lifted his body from the cold stone and stood before him. “You may stand there and point that pistol at me all you wish. I’d have given you your answers regardless.” He rubbed his wrist above the iron shackles that bound him to the wall. “I don’t know what the seal is. I only know that it is the Seal of Baalberith. Celestine kept it for some time. He mentioned it only once, and said that without the book, it was worthless.”

“How did you come across it?”

Father Papal sighed. “As Monsignor, it was my duty to guard Celestine. I stole it from his quarters. I knew that the book was here, and that is why I brought the seal to you. It’s safer in Lokken than in the hands of that bastard.”

It was a logical explanation, but he could sense there was a secret hiding beneath the thin layers of truth he was speaking. “How did you manage to slip through our defenses?”

“I used the same way that the Apostolic that preceded me had.” He turned away from him. “Much has changed in Ecclesia, Valimaar. The Apostolics are not the same men they once were. We’re all possessed. We’re all Daemons.”

That was not news he wished to hear. Ecclesia was creating a new Expurgator. He could not imagine what sort of disasters that it could bring with it.
“This city is far more vulnerable than you think.”

“Why is that?”

“There is a gateway in Ecclesia. One that tears the boundaries of our world and the world of the dead. We use it to travel. The Apostolic that attacked your Exarch, used it to get here, as did I. I hoped to stop him before he finished what he came to do, but it seems Judaes caught him first.”

It was a troubling thought. If these men could simply come to the city without so much as a guard to stop them, what was to keep Celestine from sending an entire army through the gateway? He puzzled the notion that there was more to the motives of Ecclesia than he'd originally thought. He recalled the Apostolic stating he'd served his purpose. He was ordered to destroy the engine.

The reference was still unknown to him, for he had no idea what the engine was. The priest said it was Heaven, but what did that mean? If it were causing the plague, would destroying it stop such a thing? Even if it were, why would Father Papal wish to stop the man from committing the act. It made no sense.

"What is the Engine?"

Father Papal nodded. "The engine is something that Celestine spoke of. He says that its the clockworks that drive the powers of heaven and hell. I'm unfamiliar with the knowledge behind it, but the Apostolic was sent to destroy it. We are unaware of its whereabouts, its possible that the sacrament speaks of it."

It was a possibility. He'd hoped that Lady Elaine was making progress in the translation. It was much needed knowledge. Too little was known of the engine and what it was. He needed answers.

Valimaar lowered his pistol. "Why is it that Celestine has not sent the army through the gateway?"

"Only those of us who have been touched by the darkness may pass through. We're Daemons, you and I. We may come and go as we please through the world of the dead, but others cannot. Celestine wishes to send the Army into Lokken. While your armies are concentrated on the defense of the outer walls, the Daemons will come through the gateway. This city stands no chance."

He was correct. Such an attack would obliterate the defenses. Valimaar knew of no devices like the Gyroscopes within the inner sections of the city. The Daemons would rip through, unchallenged. The army would still be struggling to regroup from such an attack, and he assumed that they would be squeezed in a pincer tactic.

"Where else does this gateway lead?"

Father Papal sat upon the cold stone floor. "I'm unaware of where else it connects to, but I do know that there is a gate in Tarkan, Rune, and Anor Farad. All of which have since fallen to the Crusades."

Still it made little sense to him. How could such a thing go unnoticed for so long? The webs of the ancient world were deep and intricate, but still, such a vulnerability must have been mentioned at some point. The creators of the great cities had to have known of their existence. If they were still capable of allowing Daemons to step through, it had to mean that they were intact somewhere. But where?

"Tunnels are dug through almost every major city in Arlia. The men of the ancient times buried their dead in deep catacombs cut into the earth. Most of their sections have collapsed from neglect, but there are some that remain. Those are the ones that were given more care in their creation. Great columns rise from the floor to the high ceilings of the caverns below. They are not simply holes in the earth, but great structures. They were not dug, they were carved. Those sections are mostly sealed off and forgotten, and it is there that the gateways connect."

That explained how they had gone unnoticed. Valimaar had little memory of the catacombs beneath Ecclesia. They were dark networks of tunnels. Humid and moldy. The stories of their walls had long since been forgotten. He'd only ventured into its bowels once, and he had struggled to forget it.

Dead lined the walls in holes cut into the stone. There they rested for eternity beneath linen blankets covered in spiderwebs and dust. He felt an evil within the halls of the catacombs like none he'd ever felt. It was oppressing to the point where he simply would not dare to step further. The great doors that locked the tunnels away were enormous, cut from the very stone in which the halls were bored. They would not submit to anything, even the evil that took birth within the earth. Or so he'd hoped.

Still, regardless of where they were, and if they would be useful or not did not drive away the fact that they were dangerous. It was a vulerability that would cost Lokken the city. The gateways had to be destroyed if they had any chance of surviving the coming days.

"What of the Daemons you've spoke of, why do they not come?"

Papal shrugged. "I understand that there are wards beneath the cities. They are ancient devices of lethal design and cunning. They are in place to defend against Daemons entering through the gates."

It didn't make sense. How then, could he and one other have ventured through if the wards were in place?

"Yes Valimaar. Someone has disabled them. I did not know of this gateway until I followed the Apostolic through. I saw the wards. They marked the walls of the room in which the gate stands. I'm not one to understand the mechanisms of the old world, but they were certainly not functioning."

That could only mean one thing... someone knew of the gateway, and of the wards. Whoever it was, had disabled them. He could only guess who it could be, for Lokken was a sea of anonymity, filled with countless thousands of souls. It could very well be anyone or anything. But who?

There was only one thing his thoughts could settle on. The sacrament spoke of such devices, or so he assumed. Someone who was very close to Father Gordon must have known of the gates, and of the wards. That would narrow his search, for which he was thankful. He knew that Father Gordon ensured that the sacrament was closely guarded, and there were not but a handful of men and women who had ever seen its pages.

That left only two people that he could think of. General Hashim, and Jazira. Both of them were close to the man, and both knew of the Sacrament and its writings. Whoever it was remained in the city, and he had not seen Jazira since he left the walls of the Cardinal City so many months ago. General Hashim was the only one capable of it. Lokken was being decieved by its very own. The act would not go unpunished, he would personally see to it.

Valimaar stepped towards the priest who stood before him. Their eyes locked in a stalemate stare. He gripped Papal's wrist and held his pistol down at the man's hand. He pulled the trigger, and sparks flew as the chain fell to the floor.

"You will help me restart these wards."

Father Papal nodded. "I'll do whatever I can."

"This does not make us allies, priest. If you do not contain the beast that dwells within you, I'll be certain that you do not breathe another breath of this life."

He grasped Valimaar's pistol hand. "I can only hope that you do, Expurgator."