Part 44 (1/2)
The quaking of the bridge intensified. The obelisks and the pedestals on which they stood swayed against the blackness of the arch rising out of the roadway some thirty feet beyond. Mounted above the entrance, above the right side of the road, two orange warning signs luminesced and warned about the low clearance of the structure. The one on the left pointed to the road and indicated a clearance of fourteen feet eleven inches. The second hung askew, pointing off the right toward an abutment nestled against the arch. It read fourteen feet four inches. Below the signs, no light penetrated. Inside the arch was inky, thick blackness, stark against the night sky and the silhouetted forest on the far bank of the river.
Something at the edge of the arch caught the ambient blue glow of the bubble, jutted out of the opening and retreated. It happened so fast that Mara wasn't sure she had actually seen anything. A moment later, she saw it again; a black ribbon waved in the dark, out of the archway and then back in.
The quaking intensified. Mara flashed back to the turbulence on the plane as it had plunged into the Columbia.
The obelisks glowed brighter, strobed faster.
Something swayed in the pitch-black interior of the arch. She sensed the movement, felt the pavement shudder in time with its sway. A snout emerged from the dark, lifted and caught light with its wetness. A jaw lowered and a black tongue flicked between its teeth, below two s.h.i.+ny nostrils. It swayed left, then right, revealing more of its flattened head as it came out of the dark, into the blue ambience of the obelisks. After several more sways, the head of what Mara could only think of as a truck-size iguana lumbered out of the unlit arch, hanging low to the pavement. It sauntered toward her until its stocky front legs were visible-and so too was its pa.s.senger.
Mounted just above the shoulders sat Diana, hips rolling forward with the movements of the beast below her. She stared down at Mara with darkly lined, mossy-green eyelids half lowered over yellow irises and slitted pupils. The coiled serpent remained inverted on her brow. Her hair, now wild and much darker, almost black with no sign of gray, flowed away from her face like a mane. She wore a black robe that gave off an emerald sheen as it s.h.i.+fted with the stride of the iguana. It was open at the collar, revealing the scars and bite marks along her neck and where a necklace of coppery scales, the hide of some reptile, fanned across her bare chest, glinting in the ambient light.
Sending shudders rippling through the bridge with each step, the giant iguana took three long minutes to lumber from the arch to the obelisks. When Diana pulled on its reigns, the creature stopped. She turned sideways on her mount, held up the hem of her robe and stepped down onto the creature's knee and to the pavement. After straightening her robe, she stepped in front of the beast and flicked her wrist at it. Sending a violent rumble through the bridge, it reared up on its hind legs, turned to the left and fell onto the bal.u.s.trade with a crash.
Mara crouched for balance, sure the bridge would give way.
The creature pushed off with its hind legs, whipped its ma.s.sive tail and levered itself off the bridge, tearing away a chunk of cement barrier with its belly. A moment later, a loud splash echoed from the river below.
Diana, keeping her eyes on Mara, walked to the altar and stepped onto a riser behind it. She clapped her hands once. From the darkness beneath the arch, two lines of robed, hooded figures walked in lockstep on each side of the roadway toward them. They filed past the altar to stand between the glowing obelisks on each side. They fell to their knees, bent forward and placed their palms on the pavement with their heads facing downward.
”Bring forth the husk,” Diana called into the sky.
Two hooded men emerged from the arch carrying a stretcher with a body covered by a heavy blanket. They walked slowly, down the slight incline from the arch to the obelisks, turned to the altar and placed their cargo on the ground in front of it.
Diana stepped down from her riser and walked in front of the altar, not approaching the body but walking toward the translucent blue boundary. She stopped just a foot away.
Mara could not help but stare at her mother's duplicate, at the coiled serpent on her brow, the blazing yellow eyes and the dozens of scars on her neck, arrayed in pairs of puncture wounds from jawline to shoulders. A knot rose up in Mara's throat; she wasn't sure if she was about to scream or whimper.
Diana's gaze tracked behind Mara, causing her to turn. The writhing ma.s.s of snakes inched toward her. Mara raised her hand.
”No, do not hurt them,” Diana said. ”You have done enough damage. I cannot allow you to do more harm.”
”I'm not interested in your pets or your G.o.ds or whatever these things are.” Mara turned to face her. ”Give me my mother and go back where you came from.”
Diana laughed. ”That's not going to happen.” She feigned forbearance, tilting her head as if explaining something to an idiot, speaking a half-beat slower. ”Let me show you something so you'll understand.”
She pivoted just enough to nod to the men standing next to the body on the road. They each bent over, grabbed a corner of the blanket and marched forward, revealing the body beneath.
It was Diana.
Mara's heart skipped, thinking it was her mother. However, this body too had the tattoo and scars.
”My previous...flesh. My body from the old realm, now just a cadaver,” Diana said. She walked toward the left side of the body, leaned over its head. Opening her mouth widely, she emitted a low gurgle and retched a viscous, lavalike sputum across the length of the body. The corpse ignited. Black smoke billowed upward, blotting out the light of the obelisks, so dense Mara could no longer see Diana or the altar. Ash and soot floated, b.u.mped against the periphery of the bubble.
Moments later, when the flames had receded and the smoke had thinned, Diana stood behind the altar, holding out her hands, indicating the bones and embers below. ”As you can see, there is no going back. This is my body now.” She raised her arms to the sky. ”And this is my realm.”
Mara screamed, slammed her fists against the barrier. It thrummed, resisted. She took two steps back, splayed her hands before her. Two arcs of lightning shot from her palms and danced along the edge of the bubble. A static crackling filled the air as sparks flew back. The bubble flickered, s.h.i.+mmered. Smoke and the smell of burning flesh seeped through. She gagged but continued.
The bubble flickered for a second.
”You cannot bring down the pa.s.sage,” Diana said. With both hands, she lifted the Chronicle from the altar and gazed skyward. She chanted.
The blue static coalesced and stabilized. Mara placed both hands on the barrier and screamed, ”Come down!” Bolts radiated from her hands along the circ.u.mference of the bubble. It sputtered and crackled. Electrical snaps cluttered the air and a cloud of smoke filled with the smell of death enveloped her. The bubble winked away with a loud crack.
A shriek of agony rang out of the darkness from under the arch. It faded into a guttural groan.
Diana's head snapped toward the noise behind her.
Two of the robed figures stepped forward, placing themselves between Mara and the altar.
She could now see under their hoods. They had the faces of lizards, gray and scaly, like Suter.
”No, I'll deal with her,” Diana said. She pointed to the obelisk on Mara's right. A bolt of lightning shot out of its tip, striking the center of Mara's chest, throwing her out of the roadway into the writhing pedestrian walk on the side of the bridge.
CHAPTER 66.
MARA FORGOT THE tingling running through her arms and legs as soon as she shook off the shock enough to realize the ground rippled beneath her back. She jumped up and kicked anything that moved. She staggered into the road, wobbled for a moment and looked up as Diana set the Chronicle on the altar. The blue translucence s.h.i.+mmered in the air ahead. The bubble was back and so was the black pa.s.sage below the arch.
”There will be consequences to what you do here, Mara-and not just for you. Your interference could prove costly to others,” Diana said.
Her lips peeled back into a broad smile as she lifted a dagger with her right hand and plunged it into her own left shoulder. She retracted the blade, waved it above the altar, dripping threads of blood onto it.
Mara gasped, leaned toward the barrier in front of her. ”Don't hurt her.”
”You misunderstand. It is not me that you should be worried about.” Diana lifted the Chronicle from the altar and turned to her right. ”It is time for us to consecrate this realm for our future. Bring out the boy.”
Two robed men-now with their bald, scaly heads exposed-broke ranks from those standing between the obelisks and walked to the bridge's darkened arch. They melted into the swirling blackness. Moments later, they emerged carrying someone by the elbows between them. A third man followed, carrying something across his arms.
When they got closer, Mara recognized Sam. Heavy ropes bound his wrists and ankles. He hung limply between the two men as they carried him to the altar. They paused for a second as Diana lifted the Chronicle, which movement flung Sam onto the slab of stone.
Holding the Chronicle above Sam's body, she turned to the third man, who Mara could now see carried a large serpent. He stepped forward, and the serpent lifted its head toward Diana. She leaned down and kissed its head. The snake slid over her right shoulder, wrapped itself around the back of her neck, hanging its head over her left shoulder, where its tongue flicked at her open wound. With purchase gained on Diana's body, the serpent lifted its tail from the man and wrapped itself around her waist. Its head bobbed next to her cheek, intermittently nuzzling her neck.
Her eyes rolled into the back of her head. She raised her face skyward and began to chant. Mara didn't recognize the words. The robed figures joined in. Diana waved the Chronicle in circles above Sam's body while moving around the altar in a slinking, slithering dance.
One of his hands twitched.
As Diana swayed over his body, the snake turned its attention to Sam, flicking its tongue at him. The chanting grew louder, more urgent. The dancing quickened. The serpent undulated to its rhythms. It grew more aggressive, baring its fangs, hissing, getting closer with each joust of its head.
Diana twisted her body sideways, leaning across Sam, twisting her torso to the beat of the chants, waving her arms in sync. The serpent slid onto the altar, moved up Sam's torso, creeping toward his head.
His hand moved again, his fingernails dug into the stone top of the altar.
Mara raised her hands to the bubble as the snake slid over Sam's neck, reared its head high into the air, preparing to strike. It froze midair, stared down into the boy's eyes, which were now open.
Sam rolled his head toward the front of the altar. The snake arched that way. Sam rolled his head back. The snake followed. Sam nodded. The snake bobbed its head in sync.
Diana continued to circle the altar, swaying to her chant, holding her head high, lost in the rhythms.