“Yet, here he is,” he said, “and therefore you have failed to warn us. It was your responsibility to prevent intrusions.”
Abigail was a thin woman who sat next to the leader. She looked like a housewife who gardened all Saturday and played bunco on Tuesday nights. She had curly black hair, blood-red nails, and a worried expression. Maybe in this group, failure resulted in a loss of blood.
While most of them stared at Abigail, I walked down to the bottom of the steps and scooped up the gray finger. It felt hard and leathery in my hand. I shoved it into a pocket and straightened, vaguely disgusted. I told myself to man up and have a nightmare about dead body parts later. Now was not the time to be squeamish.
“He could not have gotten through,” Abigail said to the leader. “Not unless he has power, or he stepped through a portal close by.”
The lead cultist lifted his gaze to me again. “Do you have power?” he asked me seriously.
I stared at them. They didn’t seem to be afraid of my gun. This worried me. The last time I’d confronted someone with this same weapon and gotten a disinterested response, I’d been tossed out of the sanatorium by Dr. Meng.
“Are you part of the Community?” I asked, deciding to name-drop and behave as calmly as they did.
The question got a strong reaction out of them. “No,” came the powerful response from several throats. They stared at me with eyes that glittered, reflecting the glimmering rip in space they encircled.
“We are a group of—friends,” the leader said. “We have no domains to rule. We are rogues, as I suspect you yourself are.”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said. “A group of people with minor powers who’ve banded together, is that it?”
The left half of the leader’s face smiled. “Not so minor,” he said. “Strong enough to open pathways like this one.” He gestured toward the vortex, and I nodded, impressed despite myself. Tearing a hole in the universe to go someplace you wished—I had to admit that was much cooler than Tony’s sunglasses.
“Well, it’s been nice meeting you,” I said. “As one rogue to a group of comrades, I have to go now. I have responsibilities.”
This caused a general twitter of humor to escape the circle. The leader lifted a hand and the group fell silent. They stared at me with shining eyes. I sensed a dark anticipation, so I knew it was time to do something.
I stepped forward to the edge of their circle. It was time to take a chance. If these guys were anything like Meng, they weren’t bluffing. They could prevent my leaving, and I supposed I wouldn’t be able to gun them down before they attacked me somehow.
They looked at me curiously, as if wondering what this intruder would do next. I smiled at them and put my gun into my pocket.
“The truth now,” I said. “I’m convinced you are the group I’ve heard of. You are the people they whisper of in the shadows. I’ve come here to join you, if you will have me. Will you allow me to sit in your circle?”
Another round of mirth swept them. The leader did not laugh at me, however. He lifted his hands and gestured for the circle to part. I stepped forward and now stood in their midst.
“You can indeed be of use,” the leader said. “Unfortunately, your power is too weak to sit among us. We do need fuel, however, and you can serve well in that regard.”
“Fuel?” I asked. “For what?”
He indicated the shimmering region in the middle of the room. “Our fire is waning. Soon, it will go dim and die completely. We have to keep this flame alive, as one of our members has stepped out and is overdue.”
I realized he was talking about the man I’d watched die in the hotel room. Apparently, these guys didn’t know he was dead, and that I’d come from the same hotel room. They didn’t know the pathway they had opened had split on their end, which had allowed me to get into their cellar. I decided not to enlighten them.
“Ah, I understand,” I said.
Each member of the circle reached under his or her right leg and lifted a knife. Each knife was the same—a slightly curved affair with a wicked point. I seriously considered shooting them, but I figured that even if I did kill several, the rest might be crazy enough to keep coming. Either that, or my gun wouldn’t stop them. Judging that the safest move was a quick exit, I strode forward toward the rip. It was the only way to get out before they could fall upon me.
The cultists took action. One older woman to my right, with thick glasses and a bad perm, lifted a rag doll and shook it. A blast of heat passed around me—but only dried my skin of sweat. She looked shocked.
A man to my left also moved. He wore a workman’s set of grimy coveralls. He lifted a small ball-peen hammer in one hand. He looked like a mechanic. He made a striking motion in the air with the small hammer. I felt a puff of air pass by me as he did so. The woman with the rag doll screeched and fell backward, knocked flat. Her head bled and she didn’t move.