Heretics book 3 - The Apocryphile Press

348 :: JOHN R. MABRY
tained within this circle was another creature, looking very
small, vulnerable, and frightened.
“Jamie!” Dylan shouted, just now recognizing the rag doll
form on the floor. “Hold on, honey, we’re coming to get
you!”
Richard could see that they had crashed the party at the
crucial moment of the ritual. The air before the child was
shimmering, and the fiery aspect of the demon was resolving
into a ghostly dragon, the mount of Articiphus. And astride
him, just now shimmering into focus, the great duke of Hell
himself, his scarred visage severe, his crown catching the
glow of the score of candles that dotted the room.
The dragon coiled and shot out its tail, planting its massive
but weirdly weightless feet far too near Jamie ’s cowering
form.
“What the fuck do we do now?” Terry called. “We’re outside
the circle of protection. There’s nothing stopping that
demon from eating us right where we stand!”
Richard looked at him with calm benignity. “True. So,
what do we have to lose?” And with that, Richard strode
into the room, directly for Dane.
He walked with resolution, but he did not hurry. He saw
the coiling body of the infernal Duke’s mount, but he
ignored it. He saw Larch’s mouth moving, miming “no, no,
no” and waving him away, but it meant nothing to him. His
eyes were fixed upon Dane, and bearing a visage that was
both terrible in justice and soft with compassion, he steadily
closed the distance between himself and the scion.
Dane’s face was screwed into a mask of frustration and
fury. The demon had arrived, was ready to do the magician’s
bidding, but Larch was distracted. The rich man screamed at
Larch, but Richard did not register the words. He did register
the fact that, as he crossed the boundary of the great circle,
Dane pulled a revolver out of his jacket pocket. He