"You will be thrown into the pit of hell for your sins!" said one of the others, a tiny hag of a woman. "You will have power to do evil on earth no more. "
"When is that supposed to happen?" I asked. "For half a year I've been what I am. God and Satan have not troubled me! It is you who trouble me!"
They were paralyzed for the moment. Why hadn't we been struck dead when we entered the churches? How could we be what we were?
It was very likely they could have been scattered now and beaten. But what about Nicki? If only his thoughts were directed, I could have gained some image of exactly what lay behind that great heap of moldering black cloth.
I kept my eyes on the vampires.
Wood, pitch, a pyre there surely. And these damned torches.
The dark-eyed woman edged in. No malice, only fascination. But the boy pushed her to the side, infuriating her. He stepped so close I could feel his breath on my face:
"Bastard!" he said. "You were made by the outcast, Magnus, in defiance of the coven, and in defiance of the Dark Ways. And so you gave the Dark Gift to this woman in rashness and vanity as it was given to you. "
"If Satan does not punish," said the tiny woman, "we will punish as is our duty and our right!"
The boy pointed to the black draped pyre. He motioned for the others to draw back.
The kettledrums came up again, fast and loud. The circle widened, the torchbearers drawing near to the cloth.
Two of the others tore down the ragged drapery, great sheets of black serge that sent up the dust in a suffocating cloud.
The pyre was as big as the one that had consumed Magnus.
And on top of the pyre in a crude wooden cage, Nicolas knelt slumped against the bars. He stared blindly at us, and I could find no recognition in his face or his thoughts.
The vampires held their torches high for us to see. And I could feel their excitement rising again as it had when they had first brought us into the room.
Gabrielle was cautioning me with the press of her hand to be calm. Nothing changed in her expression.
There were bluish marks on Nicki's throat. The lace of his shirt was filthy as were their rags, and his breeches were snagged and torn. He was in fact covered with bruises and drained almost to the point of death.
The fear silently exploded in my heart, but I knew this was what they wanted to see. And I sealed it within.
The cage is nothing, I can break it. And there are only three torches. The question is when to move, how. We would not perish like this, not like this.
I found myself staring coldly at Nicolas, coldly at the bundles of kindling, the crude chopped wood. The anger rolled out of me. Gabrielle's face was a perfect mask of hate.
The group seemed to feel this and to move ever so slightly away from it, and then to draw in, confused and uncertain again.
But something else was happening. The circle was tightening.
Gabrielle touched my arm.
"The leader is coming," she said.
A door had opened somewhere. The drums surged and it seemed those imprisoned in the walls went into agony, pleading to be forgiven and released. The vampires around us took up the cries in a frenzy. It was all I could do not to cover my ears.
A strong instinct told me not to look at the leader. But I couldn't resist him, and slowly I turned to look at him and measure his powers again.
Chapter 2
2
He was moving towards the center of the great circle, his back to the pyre, a strange woman vampire at his side.
And when I looked full at him in the torchlight I felt the same shock I had experienced when he entered Notre Dame.