“Hogarth! Get her out!” Simon called. “Charlotte! Close the doors, please, and block them. No one comes back inside.”
The beast dashed down the aisle and the last few stragglers screamed and thrashed their way outside as she came toward them. Charlotte waited for Hogarth to carry the woman to the main door. He set her on her feet and spoke to a panicked elderly woman trying to get out. The matron listened and looked at the shocked young woman in a disarrayed state of dress. The well-dressed older woman put an arm around the stunned victim and led her out, whispering sympathetic words as they went. The booming sound of Charlotte and the manservant shutting the great doors silenced the commotion outside.
Simon shook Barnes like a hound with a rabbit. “After all the horrors you’ve perpetrated, nothing I could do to you is too much.”
“You’ve done all you can now, you idiot. If you don’t allow that woman to sacrifice herself, you are damning every man, woman, and child in Britain.”
Simon snarled sarcastically, “I’m not disposed to allow murder.”
“It isn’t murder, as you can see. It’s sacrifice in its purest form. A soldier for their crown. A parent for their child. A love true enough to give your life for the life of others. Something you will never understand.”
Kate rounded on the smug necromancer. “If your goal is so noble, why aren’t you man enough to take part? If you need a final sacrifice to finish your ritual, why not kill yourself? It’s easier to slaughter helpless young women? You’re a coward.”
“Shut up!” Barnes screeched with surprising venom. “I won’t have you above all questioning me. Your father knew what Gaios was all about. He even tried to uncover Gaios’s scheme himself. He sacrificed enough of his comrades hunting down allies of Gaios. He had the knowledge and ability, and I begged him to help me, but he was too good to sully himself with me. And you notice he isn’t here in Britain now that madman is coming back to destroy us all. The great Sir Roland!” Barnes gave a wet, derisive cackle, blood bubbling in his mouth. “If he had done his duty, none of this would have been necessary.”
Kate felt her rage building. “How do you have the temerity to speak of my father, you murderous troll?”
“I knew your father long before you were born. He was vain and selfish, but you’re worse. You live among his greatness, and you can manage nothing but to stand in his shadow.” He nodded toward Simon. “Or in his.”
Kate saw the necromancer’s eyes flick toward her with a bitter coldness. It wasn’t just that Barnes was a murderer or that he was mad; Kate saw now that he was truly a monster. There was an odd hesitation in his movements, not in the general actions of his limbs, but she noted a peculiarity in the way his features altered with emotion. When he spoke angrily, his mouth moved with an odd sluggishness, as if he was laboring. His skin was slightly waxy. But more, Kate felt a flitting consciousness looking out from his eyes that was not part of him. She got an overwhelming sense of watching a puppet. She whispered in a sharp breath. “You aren’t Rowan Barnes. You’re Ash.”
Barnes sneered. “I may have underestimated you. You’re right, Miss Anstruther. Rowan Barnes has been dead for nearly three months. It has been getting more difficult to preserve the illusion of life, even for me. I’ve had to keep him just this side of death with some breath and some pulse. Fortunately, I won’t need him after tonight.” Barnes, or Ash, turned slightly in the scribe’s death grip. “I implore you, Archer. The need for this ritual is greater than you could imagine, and the risks of its failure are apocalyptic. Grace North told you this. I am doing the work of Byron Pendragon.”
Simon stared into the dead eyes of the necromancer. “What power is hidden here?”
“Four ancients: Luvah, Thamas, Urizon, Urthona. They are the shattered life force of the great god Albion from a time before. Pendragon called them from their banishment and bound them here, to wait his call. Their power is so great, Blake sensed it although he didn’t fully understand it.” Ash’s eyes were ablaze with righteous surety. “Still, even that doddering old poet knew that Albion was the savior of this land, of the world. This ritual must be completed. You understand the way of things. The path of magic is not always black-and-white. This is no longer an issue for mortals. I am dicing with the power of gods because that is what is needed to stop Gaios. You have no idea what that fiend might do.”
Simon could barely speak due to his rage. “Your game comes to an end tonight.”
“You are destroying your own world!” the necromancer screamed.
“Pity.”