Ronnie’s focus turned back to Sanford. “My elders? Ha. You mean my father? You mean you? Self-righteous, self-important, self-centered, the lot of you. I am respecting my elders – but only the ones worthy of respect. I’m respecting an elder g–”

  He didn’t finish the sentence, because Diana Stanley hit him on the back of the head with a heavy stoneware vase, and he fell. “Miss Stanley, how lovely to see you.” Sanford was a trifle surprised they’d come for him. Unless they were here to kill him while he was restrained? No, they would have simply left him to his fate in that case. They’d more likely made the wise decision that they could use his help. “Perhaps you might untie me?”

  Diana undid one wrist, while Ruby Standish untied the other. Then they released his legs. “My sword?” He held out his hand, and after a moment’s hesitation, Ruby handed the weapon over. “Some blood on the blade, I see.” He wiped it on the bedspread. “You killed the rest of our captors?”

  “It was just these two,” Diana said. “The rest of them… they’re gone, master. Ruby heard them talking and–”

  “Cain has taken Abel to the temple, to make him the first sacrifice to the restored Asterias?” Sanford guessed.

  “Your guard must have been talkative.” Ruby looked down at the unconscious comet.

  Sanford stood up and walked around to the foot of the bed. “Oh, he didn’t divulge anything useful. I merely surmised. Cain has all the necessary elements to enact his plan, so why would he hesitate?”

  Diana put a hand on his arm. “Master. Mr Sanford.” She took a breath. “Carl. We have to stop them. You wore the amulet, however briefly, and you were granted visions… Do you know the location of the temple?”

  He patted her hand. She was holding up well, considering it was her first time embroiled in supernatural escapades of this magnitude. “Of course I do. Asterias wants to be found, to be revered, and to be revived. I suspect that anyone who dons that amulet is given enough information to help achieve those goals. The island temple is several miles off the coast, north by northeast. Nowhere near any land mass or significant shipping or fishing route, just an unremarkable bit of ocean.”

  “Can we get there?” Ruby said.

  “I don’t see why not.” Sanford looked at the comet on the floor, and then stabbed him neatly through the heart. “There. No use giving mercy to creatures like these. They’ll all have to be hunted down and killed anyway.” He strode out of the room, toward the stairs, then paused when he realized he wasn’t being followed. How tiresome. He returned and stood outside the bedroom door. Diana and Ruby had their heads together in some ferocious consultation. “Is there a problem? I assumed the two of you would be eager to save your friend, and save the world, and so forth?”

  “You just stand up and act like you’re in charge!” Ruby said. “You’re not in charge. You were chased out of your own Lodge tonight, and barely escaped with your life.”

  “My life was in no danger.”

  “You were tied to this bed until we came! I’m the one who got Diana loose, and Diana knocked out your guard. You stabbed an unconscious person. You didn’t escape. We set you free!”

  “Hmm,” Sanford said. “I was in the process of setting myself free, but, it’s true, you saved me the trouble, and I should have said thank you. May we go now?”

  Ruby seethed. Diana put a hand on her shoulder, and then looked into Sanford’s eyes. “I think what Ruby means is, you shouldn’t act like you are our leader. We are not your followers. We have been tangling with this cult since before you realized it existed. Ruby especially has proven herself adept at dealing with them.”

  “And Diana has been impossibly courageous and clever,” Ruby said. “She’s also been level-headed in situations that should have made her sanity crumble.”

  Sanford considered, then nodded. “You have both acquitted yourselves well, though of course I disagree with your tactics, and wish you’d just come to me in the first place… but I can understand why you didn’t. With the nature of this cult, it is impossible to know who to trust.” Altman’s comet was still out there somewhere, a vicious reminder of that fact. “We are all working together now, and I… apologize… for my tendency to take the lead, and to expect unquestioning obedience. It’s the force of a long habit, but in this case, you are not my followers, but my allies and collaborators.”

  “He finally noticed,” Ruby said.

  “A team!” he said. “A partnership, even. Sanford, Standish, and Stanfield.” He chuckled. “We sound like partners in a law firm.”

  For some reason, that made the thief glower. Diana laughed and then covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. Ruby made the same joke not long ago, about our two names.”

  “Who knew we had so much in common, Miss Standish?” Sanford asked.

  “Stop it.” Ruby shuddered. “Don’t make jokes. It makes you seem almost human.”

  “Of course I’m human.” Sanford was actually offended. “I’m the best of what humans can be. So. Colleagues. With the acknowledgment that time is of the essence, let us discuss our next course of action.”

  “Thank you–” Diana began, but Ruby cut in.

  “We need a boat. There are lots of them around, and while I’ve never stolen a boat before, I’ve stolen cars, and the principle is probably the same–”

  “I own a boat,” Sanford said. “No stealing necessary.”

  “We could also use weapons,” Diana said. “They took our gun with them.”

  Sanford nodded. “Then we are doubly fortunate, because I have numerous weapons on my boat.”

  “Why?” Diana said.

  “Oh, we had a spot of bother on the little island in the river recently.” Sanford shrugged. “Certain artifacts there sometimes attract unsavory attention, and interlopers have to be discouraged. The problem was taken care of, but we left the weapons and ammunition locked up on my vessel. As I recall, we have a shotgun, two pistols, and even a so-called Tommy gun. A socialite-thief and a shopkeeper, though… do either of you have proficiency with firearms?”

  “We both know our way around,” Ruby said. “Maybe we’ll leave the machine gun to you. And don’t stand behind me while you’re holding it, if you please.”

  Sanford nodded. “A capital ideal. So. The plan?”

  “We get your boat,” Diana said.

  “We get the guns,” Ruby said.

  “And we kill Cain and the other cultists?” Sanford nodded. “Elegant in its simplicity. Ladies, please do lead the way.”

  Diana and Ruby left the room, and Sanford followed. That had wasted a few minutes – they could have just followed him, and he would have taken him straight to his boat anyway – but he needed allies, and if some nods toward collaboration kept them happy, it was worth the time.

  The women collected their bags from the kitchen, and Sanford picked up the sheath for his sword-stick, and then peered out the front windows in case Cain had left guards. They detected no watchers, and slipped out. Dawn was closer than dusk now, but it was still deep night, and they moved through the shadows, along the grassy shoulder of the street that followed the river southeast. “I have a private boathouse less than a mile from here. I hope you don’t mind if I lead us there, at least?”

  “Ass,” Ruby muttered, and Sanford smiled in the dark, where no one could see.

  They walked silently through the quiet streets for a while until Diana said, “Do you think we’ll make it in time?”

  “In time for what?” Sanford said. “To stop them from beginning the ritual? I doubt it. I don’t think the process is all that complicated. Asterias was only defeated in the first place because its followers were all massacred, and it had no one to restore it to health. I’m sure as soon as Cain reaches the temple, he will immerse that stolen piece of sea slime in the sacred pool and do all the necessary chanting and so forth.”

  “I feel like ‘and so forth’ is probably hiding a lot of gruesome details,” Ruby said.

  “Very astute, Miss Standish. I think the cultists will have to cut off several of their own digits, or even limbs, and throw them into the pool, to provide blood and flesh to catalyze the rebirth. That’s what my vision suggested, anyway. Willingly offering their own flesh is crucial to the ritual. Gods do love sacrifice. I don’t think we’ll reach them in time to stop that part, unless Cain took a very slow boat indeed. But after the opening ceremonies, as it were… Asterias will grow, and the first thing it will grow is a mouth. I doubt it will take long, perhaps half a day, for the Ravening Deep to gain sufficient mass to include a hideous maw. Once it does…”

  “That’s when the cult will sacrifice Abel,” Diana said.

  “Abel will be the amuse-bouche,” Sanford agreed. “The god will grow larger after that, and faster, and then the cult will bring other victims, and so on, until the delightful doomsday scenario my scholar in the basement outlined, when one god becomes two.”

  “We can stop that from happening,” Diana said. “And we can save Abel, too.”

  “We can certainly try our best,” Sanford agreed. “And if we fail, well, we’ll die screaming in the mouth of an immense starfish, and after that, our failure won’t bother us anymore.”

  It had been some time since he’d faced danger so directly, and he found himself exhilarated. He barely even matched wits with anyone anymore; almost everyone he met, he easily outmatched. Sanford didn’t believe Cain was smarter than him, but the priest had many more resources and the backing of something akin to an actual god, which made it a challenge. Sanford had never yet met a challenge he couldn’t overcome.

  “You’re assuming we’ll die if Asterias eat us,” Ruby said. “What if we’re digested for eternity without ever losing consciousness? That’s what one of the cultists said would happen.”

  “Hmm,” Sanford said. That was a disturbing notion, even by his standards. “In that case, let us try our very best.”

  They reached the boathouse, a large wooden structure behind an abandoned cottage, but it had a good lock, and more subtle defenses in the form of certain sigils drawn on the interior walls. “Sadly, I do not have my keys with me. Miss Standish? Demonstrate your skills?”

  She crouched before the lock. “My picks are still in my bag, luckily. I couldn’t open this thing with hairpins. You splurged on good security.” Even so, she opened the lock with distressing speed. Sanford put his hand against the wall and murmured a few words, disabling the other wards.

  He opened the door and stepped inside, flipping on the electric lights he’d recently installed. The interior of the boathouse was spacious and well appointed, with lockers and benches along one wall, but the eye was drawn instantly to the motorboat itself, one of his many prides and joys, a sleek four-seater of dark wood and gleaming steel.

  “Ladies, this is the Silver Key. Eighteen feet long, handcrafted with a bonded wood hull, metal trim, and seats cushioned in marine leather. The inboard motor was built by an acquaintance of mine who makes his living designing engines for aircraft.” He knelt and ran his hand along the shining black wood of the bow. “I usually take her out on the river – she’s a close-shore vessel, not meant for the open sea – but there are various… augmentations… built into her structure to prevent her from capsizing or taking on water. Should make her suitable for a brief sea voyage.”

  “You have a magic boat,” Ruby said.

  Sanford sighed. “Must you be so reductive–”

  Ruby held up her hands. “No! I am excited that you have a magic boat. Are the guns magic, too?”

  Sanford climbed into the back of the boat and patted a locked panel behind the rear seats. “Gunpowder was first made by alchemists. So, in a sense. Do you think you could open this, too, Miss Standish?”

  She retrieved her picks and obliged, and they looked down at the weapons stored neatly inside, with ample boxes of ammunition alongside them. And not just guns, either. “Wait,” Ruby said. “Is that…?”

  “Yes,” Sanford said. “It could be useful, don’t you think?”

  “I daresay,” Ruby murmured. “I do love a day out on the water.”

  “Let us hope we don’t end the day under the water,” Sanford said. “Miss Stanley, if you’ll help me open the doors? We can prepare for departure.”

  Chapter Twenty-One

  The Temple

  Abel woke in the dark with his nostrils full of fish stink. He tried to sit upright, and couldn’t – he was tied in loops of rope, lying on his side, cheek pressed against wooden boards. The one arm pinned underneath him was numb, and he managed to roll over on his back to relieve the pressure. The floor was rocking slightly, and rumbling. He was on a boat, under engine power. From the stink, it was a working fishing boat, or had been before Cain commandeered it.

  Metal hinges squealed as a hatch opened in the ceiling, though no light poured in, so it must still be night. A man – no, almost certainly a comet – climbed down the ladder, carrying a lantern that cast a weak and wavering light across the hold. He hung the lantern on a hook and turned to look down on Abel.

  “Hello, son,” Abel croaked. He was incredibly thirsty.

  “I am not your child.” Cain spat onto the floor beside Abel’s head.

  “More like a grandchild, it’s true. Seth was your father. He was twice the man you are, even if he was only half the man I am.” Abel laughed. He was going to die – quite soon, probably – but he wouldn’t give this copy of a copy the satisfaction of seeing his fear. “What did you do with Ruby and Diana?”

  Cain sat down cross-legged beside him, the amulet dangling around his neck on a golden chain; he’d upgraded his jewelry. Cain said, “I understand why you fled. You were usurped, after all. Bested by a younger man.”

  “Much younger,” Abel said. “And not a man. If you were a human, you wouldn’t even be old enough to eat solid food yet.”

  Cain ignored him. “You went groveling into the shadows, to lurk on the outskirts of Arkham, and that was appropriate, for someone in your position. But to actively work against us? That I cannot understand. You sought allies, you plotted, and you nearly succeeded in stealing Asterias from us. But why? You were the first prophet. You have seen the glory that is to come. Our god gave you strength. Saved your life. I remember all the things you do – the awe we felt, standing in the temple.”

  “You’ve never stood in the temple. You’re a growth. A wart with legs.”

  Cain took no notice. “I remember the gratitude we felt, to be spared from death. Those feelings inspire nothing but devotion in me. Yet somehow, they fail to inspire the same thing in you. You turned against your savior. Why?”

  “Because you’re horrible monsters who want to feed the whole world to an even more horrible monster. And if you can’t understand that, then I can’t explain it to you any more clearly.”

  “Too human.” Cain caressed Abel’s cheek with one of his transformed hands, the fingers wriggling tentacles and crooked crab legs and rough starfish. Abel couldn’t stop himself from trying to flinch away, and Cain gripped him firmly by the face. “You could have been the best of us. You know I hate you – you can see the hate, I’m sure – but I don’t think you can see the sorrow. Making you the first sacrifice to the Ravening Deep is not a punishment. It is an honor, Abel. It is recognition for your role in bringing this to pass – in bringing me to pass. You will be the god’s first meal in centuries, and you will give Asterias strength.” Cain released him.

  Abel took a ragged breath. “If I’m such an honored guest, give me a drink of water. Unless you want me to die of thirst before you kill me.”

  “We brought no fresh water. Why would we? We are creatures of the salt. But even a human can survive some time without water. You will not die before you serve your purpose. Here. Let me show you, so you can savor the anticipation of what awaits you.”

  Before he could object, Cain pressed the amulet against Abel’s face. The cool metal touched his cheek, but then it seemed to move, like tiny tendrils were writhing against his skin. Abel tried to jerk away, but Cain held his head with a grip made inhumanly strong.

  Abel whimpered as his vision went black, and then filled with new lights and colors. This vision was different from the ones before – those were memories, mainly, of the devotees and priests who’d come before him. This was hazy and blurred, and Abel understood that this was a vision of the future, or at least, a possible one – the future the Ravening Deep wished for.

  Abel’s point of view hovered somewhere near the ceiling, looking down on the scene.

  Cain and six of his acolytes stood in a dark chamber of stone and coral, the walls lit by flickering torches. A rough oval pool filled most of the floor, its depths sparkling with eerie yellow-green light from glowing algae, like festering stars. Cain gently laid the fragment of Asterias atop a stone in the center of the pool, then stood with the rest of his kin. The comets drew blades – knives, shears, clippers – and methodically cut off the fingers of their left hands, scattering the blood droplets into the water. When the blood sank, the water rippled, the fragment of Asterias twitching, and extending tiny, threadlike tentacles to gather in the blood. Then the cultists cast their severed fingers into the pool, too, and more tendrils whipped out, curling around the bloody digits and pulling them inward as the acolytes began to chant.

  The fragment of Asterias swelled, like a balloon being slowly inflated. It rippled, growing new appendages, first as stubby as thumbs, but lengthening, until finally it had turned the flesh of those severed fingers into seven arms, spotted with small eyes. The tentacles stretched out languidly, and all the eyes rolled.

  “More,” Cain cried, “our god needs more!” The acolytes exchanged glances, then knelt, helping one another saw off the fingers of their right hands as well, each in turn, until only one remained who could hold a knife. Cain drew a hatchet from his belt, impatient, and chopped the whole hand off the last one, throwing it spinning into the pool. The other acolytes pushed their fingers in as well, and let their bleeding hands drip over the water, feeding their god from themselves and continuing the chant.