But how could he leave the kid?
X took a deep breath and thought about the boy trapped downstairs with a monster. Then he thought about another kid—a boy who stood in the corner for hours until he dropped from exhaustion, while his father got piss-drunk and berated him. A boy who put himself through college and joined the organization. There were sacrifices he wasn’t willing to make.
X made his choice.
He walked into the kitchen and found an ancient black rotary phone. He dialed the number everyone knew by heart.
Then he turned around and walked out the back door.
CHAPTER 21
Earl Roy’s Residence
9:59 P.M.
“Law chooses the sinners.” The voice sounded loud and faraway at the same time.
Mulder’s head felt heavy.
Was he dreaming?
No. That wasn’t right.…
Mulder sucked in a deep breath. What was that smell? Perfume? Flowers? He tried to stretch, but he couldn’t move his arms.
Something was wrong.
Another sound permeated the fog clouding his thoughts—a warbling chatter. “Sing for me, and I’ll give you more steak,” said a man with a gravelly voice. It was the same voice Mulder had just heard. He forced his eyes open and immediately regretted it. The soft light in the room blinded him, as if he were staring at the sun. Mulder tried to shield his eyes, but he couldn’t bring his arms up in front of him. It took a second for it to register that his wrists were bound behind his back, and he was staring at thin metal bars.
Then he remembered—walking through Earl Roy’s house and turning on the light, Phoebe and Gimble coming toward him, feeling an arm around his throat, and Billy Christian’s face behind broken glass.
Mulder was in some kind of a metal cage. If he slouched, he could sit up without bumping his head. He bent down to read a ripped silver sticker near the bottom of the cage: HAPPY DOG HOUSES.
He was in a dog kennel.
Realization set in—along with panic. The man who had choked him out and locked him in there had already murdered one child and kidnapped another. What would he do to Mulder, an intruder who’d broken into his house?
Kill me.
He couldn’t afford to think that way. Gimble and Phoebe must have seen Earl Roy grab him, so the police were probably already on their way.
I’m going to make it out of here, and Sarah will, too.
Mulder surveyed his surroundings. The combination of the rough stone walls and thick pillar candles bathing the room in yellow light, the place looked like a cross between a medieval castle and the headquarters of a secret society.
The chaos symbol, or the Symbol of Eight as the Illuminates called it, was hand-painted on the wall in black paint that had dripped in places, leaving long streaks running down to the floor. The opposite wall was covered with writing and a single arrow pointing straight up, and white rose petals littered the smooth stone floor.
Across the room, a fancy gilded birdcage hung from the ceiling with a black-and-white bird inside that alternated between chattering and the warbling call he’d heard a minute ago. It looked exactly like the magpie Mulder had seen lying on Billy Christian’s chest in the cemetery.
Earl Roy was nowhere in sight.
Muffled sounds echoed from the other side of the wall—footsteps, a bell ringing, scraping, and the same gravelly voice, muttering and singing. Mulder maneuvered back down onto his side to make it appear as if he were still unconscious. The angle allowed him to peek up from the bottom of the cage and keep watch.
A broad-shouldered man backed into the room, dragging something. The soles of his heavy work boots thudded against the stone floor, each step slow and deliberate. The top half of his blue coveralls hung around his waist, and the back of his white undershirt was stained with sweat. He was holding the top of a fancy gold chair like the ones upstairs, tilting it back carefully as he pulled it into the room.
Earl Roy had something white all over his arms and hands. It wasn’t chalky like baby powder. It looked more like house paint. But the man had his back to Mulder, so he couldn’t see much without sitting up. The magpie chattered, and Earl Roy lowered the front legs of the chair and left it facing the wall.
He turned and pointed at the cage. “Don’t test me.”
Mulder saw Earl Roy’s face and froze. A pair of blue eyes stared out from a mask of white that covered every inch of the man’s face and blended into his hairline and down his neck in sloppy strokes. The opaque color and greasy texture reminded Mulder of the makeup clowns and mimes used to paint their faces.
Or the cover of Stormbringer.
An albino warrior.
Earl Roy had transformed himself into the image of the Eternal Champion, Elric from the book. The effect erased the killer’s features, except for the panicked blue eyes darting around the room.