The Lucifer Messiah Read Free Page A

tailor’s handiwork, expensive though it is, I’ll thank you to step aside, for we really must be on our way,” the strange child said.
    Irene, dumbfounded, did just as the boy requested. Without even a second glance, both he and Arachne continued walking.
    The mist soon reclaimed them from her sight.
    â€œWas that necessary? You could have humored her. She’d have been none the wiser,” the blonde asked her tiny companion.
    â€œMy patience wears thin Arachne, and we’ve no time for distractions this morning. In any case, I’ll be free of this puerile coil soon enough,” the boy answered.
    â€œNot a moment too soon, I’d imagine,” she replied. “But it will be remembered, certainly. And I can always say that I tended to the wizened Argus when he was just alittle child.”
    They both laughed, though he couldn’t help but frown as he did.

    The pair did not wander much longer through the hazy morning. As the early rush of traffic clogged the avenues with fumes and noise, they found their way to a quiet corner of the Lower East Side. On a dead-end street, set off from any main arteries, they came before a church. It was fairly nondescript, perhaps once notable for the four spires that bore a passing resemblance to the Cathedral of St. Patrick, much farther uptown.
    Not a person was about as they neared. Like familiar patrons, however, they unlatched the rusted iron-gate along the sidewalk, and ascended the front steps. The hinges very nearly screamed when they turned, as though the metal joints hadn’t been disturbed in years. Though the stained-glass windows of the gray façade were largely intact, it was clear from the boards nailed carelessly over the doors that the house of worship was no longer in regular use.
    The rest of the street seemed oddly removed from the neighborhood that encircled it. There were no residences, no offices, just a scattering of empty lots and some abandoned tenements. On the whole, as quiet and eerily serene as it was, it almost seemed as though the rest of the city had forgotten about it.
    Arachne did not withhold her impression. “What agloomy place.”
    â€œYes. Just as I remember it. Perfect I think, for our purposes,” the child Argus answered.
    â€œCharybdis should be inside already,” Arachne continued. “She said she had news.”
    Argus nodded. With a last glance at the boarded-up entrance, he motioned for his companion to follow him toward the cemetery set against the south wall. There was a cellar door beneath the distorted trunk of a maple tree that had grown too close to the building. He opened it with his tiny fingers and the two of them disappeared into the bowels beneath the church.
    Inside it was musty. The air hung heavy with stirred-up dust. They took a winding staircase up from the basement in total darkness, but found some light there to greet them in the expansive main hall.
    A woman called Charybdis stood waiting for them, at the center of the aisle between the pews, above a metal grate in the floor. She was black, with stern, West African features that looked to be aged about forty years. Standing almost at attention, her figure was obscured by a man’s flannel suit. Her hair was cropped down to the scalp.
    She did not greet the pair, and instead opened in a deadpan voice. “Lucifer has been found. He is here, in New York.”
    Arachne paused when she heard it. She turned to look at her companion. He too stopped in his tracks. While she seemed suddenly out of breath, he looked almost relieved.
    â€œSo the rumors are true?” Argus replied. “Are youcertain of it, Charybdis?”
    â€œThere can be no doubt,” the African woman answered. “Last night, the Keeper located and apprehended him. He fell into the Morrigan’s hands well after midnight, on the West Side, Eleventh Avenue and West Thirty-Eighth Street.”
    The words, though deeply spoken, seemed