Abel fell to the floor, clutching at his neck and gagging. Ruby stared in horror, while Sanford just walked over to the pool.

  Diana darted to Ruby, jerking the amulet out of her hands, and then sprinted to Abel. She pressed the medallion against the wound, closing her eyes, wishing, hoping, and praying almost incoherently. “Please, please, please,” she said. She didn’t like to think about what she was praying to.

  A moment later Ruby was kneeling at her side, with the jar that had once held a piece of Asterias. “I got sea water, from the pool,” she explained, and poured the water over the wound, then went back to get more. The brine made an immediate difference, though: the wound stopped pumping blood and began to crust over before Diana’s eyes.

  Abel squeezed his eyes shut, moaning “No, no, no.” He thrashed around, and she had to press her body against his to hold him still and keep the amulet in place. She had no doubt he was beset by horrible visions… but the amulet was saving his life, and though the power was born of a foul source, Diana didn’t care. She wanted him to live; she needed him to live. After everything she’d gone through, everything she’d lost or given up already in her life, she couldn’t lose more. They had become siblings in the struggle, and if she could save her brother’s life, she would, no matter what the cost. Besides, he’d worn the amulet for months. If it had poisoned him, he was already poisoned.

  Ruby ferried over a few more jars full of salt water, and the scab fell away, leaving an ugly scar on Abel’s throat. His shoulder and ear stopped bleeding, too, and the latter even began to grow back, though the flesh had a strange and nacreous luster. Diana took the amulet away, watching to make sure Abel would keep breathing without it. He did, though he didn’t regain consciousness. Diana was envious. She wanted sleep, too.

  She looked up at Ruby. “Are there still shells for that shotgun?”

  Ruby nodded. “In my pocket. I didn’t have time to reload, is all.”

  “Do so now, please.”

  Ruby went to pick up the gun.

  Sanford turned from his place by the pool. “Ah, you used the amulet to save his life, did you?”

  “You shot him,” Diana snarled, rising. “He was your ally, and you shot him!”

  “I shot Cain,” Sanford replied mildly. “Abel was simply in the way. Anyway, no harm done – he’s healed now.” He glanced at Ruby. “What do you plan to do with the shotgun? I don’t think it will be sufficient to kill Asterias. You should come look into the pool. It’s really remarkable, how much it’s already grown.”

  Diana stood and took the shotgun from Ruby.

  Sanford raised his eyebrows. “Is that meant for me? Our alliance has come to an end? Dear me. Are you not as loyal to the Lodge as you led me to believe, Seeker?”

  “I’m not going to shoot you,” Diana said. “I’m not like you.” She tossed the amulet onto the ground a few feet away from her, pointed the shotgun at it, and fired. The amulet shattered, bits of stone and metal flying, destroyed beyond any hope of piecing together or repair.

  Sanford groaned. “I almost wish you’d shot at me instead. I might have survived. That amulet could have done a lot of good in the world, you know, Miss Stanley.”

  “It could have done a great deal more evil.” She put the shotgun down on the cave floor, happy the necessity for violence had passed. If she never touched another firearm, it would be too soon. Her spirits had lifted considerably now that the unholy symbol and source of the comets was reduced to fragments. They were nearly finished here. “Now the only thing left to do is destroy Asterias and get rid of the comets.”

  “They’re gone,” Abel murmured, opening his eyes. Diana rushed to him, cradling his head in her lap. “I can’t feel any of them anymore. None of the ones that came from me, that is, from Cain, anyway. I don’t know about the rest.”

  “Interesting.” Sanford stroked his chin. Diana suddenly noticed that he was the only one of them who wasn’t covered in blood – how had he managed that? “But not without precedent,” he went on. “Sometimes when an artifact of such power is destroyed, its effects immediately cease. Every comet was made from the touch of that medallion, and now that it’s been destroyed… we’ll have to see what awaits us in Arkham, but perhaps I won’t have as much cleanup to do as I thought.”

  “What do we do about… that?” Ruby stood by the pool, looking down into the water.

  Abel struggled upright, waving off Diana’s attempts to restrain him. “I want to see,” he said.

  •••

  Abel gazed down into the water, where parts of a dead cultist still floated. Asterias was much larger now, having fed on the blood of that corpse – and stripped some of its flesh, too, by the look of things. The Ravening Deep was only as wide across as a manhole cover, though, and its mouth was a pitiful thing, a writhing slit with small tendrils reaching out ineffectually, not the horrible abyss of hunger from Abel’s visions.

  The Ravening Deep’s dozens of eyes fixed on Abel, boring into him, and the visions that filled his mind when the amulet touched the wound on his neck suddenly flared back, vivid: Abel wearing a crown of coral and pearls, standing on the prow of a giant ship, riding a tidal wave toward a shining terrestrial city. Abel shrugging off bullets and striding forward, laughing, a trident in hand, slashing at a crowd of policemen. Abel standing over a dozen humans, Carl Sanford among them, all on their knees, wearing iron collars and chains, awaiting his judgment–

  Abel spat into the pool. “No, thank you.” He looked at Diana, who was spattered with blood, but serene, and at Ruby, who had regained some of her impish insouciance in victory, and finally at Sanford, who mostly looked bored. “How do we kill this thing? Drain the pool and set it on fire? There’s gasoline on the boat. I wish we had white phosphorous grenades like the Brits used in the Great War. I’ve heard those will burn even under water.”

  “Alas, we possess nothing so exotic… but we do have dynamite.” Sanford smiled.

  Abel blinked. “That should do it.”

  They trudged back to the surface together, none eager to remain below with Asterias, and Abel noticed that he was the most sprightly of the bunch – the healing effects of the amulet were miraculous, even if it was the miracle of an evil god. He wondered if he would ever shake off the lingering effects of his relationship with the Ravening Deep and his long exposure to its holy relic. When he saw this horrible temple again in his dreams, which seemed inevitable, he would always wonder if it was just the torment of memory, or a message from the god he’d betrayed.

  Ruby made her way across to Sanford’s boat and fetched the munitions, and then they all went down again.

  They found Asterias moving, albeit slowly. The small god had crawled out of the pool onto the stone, and was dragging itself along with its seven limbs, toward the stairs, leaving trails of ichor behind. Abel shuddered. He’d known the Ravening Deep was capable of locomotion, but seeing it was something else.

  “Did you think we’d abandoned you?” Ruby said. “Don’t worry. We were just fetching your going-away present.” She glanced around. “So, who knows how to use this stuff?”

  “I have some experience.” Sanford took the satchel from Ruby and removed a few sticks of dynamite and a spool of fuse wire. He made a wide berth around the creature on the chamber floor, still pathetically trying to reach freedom, and set the dynamite against the walls, connecting their fuses together. Then he said, “Wish me luck,” and darted forward.

  Sanford jammed one cylinder into the center of the Ravening Deep’s maw, like an oversized candle in a grotesque birthday cake. A tendril whipped around his wrist, and he hissed, jerking away. “That’s the only taste of me you’ll get,” he said. “You couldn’t ask for a better last meal.”

  Sanford unspooled the fuse wire, backing toward the stairs, and the others went up with him as he unrolled the wire, until they’d made it about halfway to the top. He gave a decisive nod, then cut the wire free from the spool and withdrew a box of matches from inside his suit coat.

  “You can’t just conjure fire by force of will?” Ruby asked.

  “Seems a waste of energy when we have matches.” Sanford struck a light and touched it to the fuse, which fizzed and sparkled and sent fire racing away down the stairs. “We should go, now.”

  They raced up the stairs, miraculously without anyone losing their footing and falling to the chamber below. They reached the small cave at the top, and then hurried down the face of the tower, Ruby and Sanford in the lead, both adept at climbing. Abel was less adroit, but still, the descent was much easier than the ascent had been – he could see now, for one thing, and he wasn’t being dragged across sharp stones. Abel reached the plateau at the bottom and helped Diana down, and then they all clambered and leapt back to Sanford’s boat, which was one of the nicest craft Abel had ever seen.

  “You traveled here in style,” he said to Diana as they leaned together in the back seat. “I came tied up in the hold of a fishing boat.”

  “I think I want to stay off the water entirely for a while,” Diana murmured.

  “I can see the appeal of a more landlocked life myself,” Abel said.

  Sanford turned on the boat and guided it away from the temple, until they reached what he deemed a safe distance. Then they watched the spire.

  “The temple is not exploding,” Ruby said. “Are you sure you know how to use dynamite?”

  “I wanted to give us ample time to reach safety,” Sanford said, and then there was a deep rumble, and smoke and stones burst forth from the tower like a volcanic eruption. A wave struck the Silver Key, rocking the vessel hard, and then the stone spire slowly collapsed into the water. After a few moments, nothing was left of the tower and the temple but a small spur of coral and stone that barely broke the surface.

  Abel groaned, slumping against the side of the boat, and clutched his head. Diana rushed to him, touching his shoulders. “What is it? Are you all right?” Abel only shook his head and groaned. Tears streamed from the corners of his eyes.

  “Those touched by such powers naturally feel something when those powers die,” Sanford said, as if passing a comment about the weather.

  “So Asterias is really gone?” Ruby said.

  “It seems,” Sanford began, but then Abel lowered his hands and interrupted him.

  “I… don’t think so,” Abel said. “Or, not entirely. When the dynamite exploded, there was this wave of… red in my mind. Asterias is hurt, it’s diminished, but I think there are still a few scraps of living flesh down there.”

  Sanford sniffed. “Even if that’s true, those scraps are buried by a ton of rock. No one can reach them, the temple is gone, and the amulet was destroyed. If Asterias can’t find acolytes, and it can’t feed, it doesn’t pose much of a threat. Let it languish in eternal hunger and darkness.” Sanford pushed a lever, and the boat began to motor away from the smoking water. “Well done, all of you. But Miss Stanley, I’m afraid with everything that’s happened, with your insubordination and your secret-keeping, I have no choice but to strip you of your rank and expel you from the Silver Twilight Lodge.”

  “You’ve saved me the trouble of resigning,” Diana said.

  •••

  Two weeks later, Ruby sat in a back booth at one of the finest French restaurants in Arkham, which meant it was as good as a mediocre place in Boston. The restaurant sold champagne, at least – you just had to ask for “something sparkling” – so she was content. Sanford arrived, a little late, because of course he did; every play he made was a power play.

  “You look lovely, my dear,” he said a few moments later, sipping from his glass.

  She raised her own in an ironic toast. “You look sleek and well fed and smug, yourself. Why did you want to meet me?”

  “Various reasons. I thought you might like to know that, as far as I can determine, all of the comets are dead.”

  “I read about the rash of mysterious deaths in the Arkham Advertiser. Medical experts are baffled, simultaneous heart failure, tainted caviar, mysterious mold, unknown identical siblings… it all sounded a bit far-fetched, if you ask me. Yellow journalism at its worst.”

  “The sheriff and the chief of police are both accustomed to unusual happenings, though these were more unusual than most. No one is dying anymore, though, and there’s no evidence of foul play or obvious connections among the victims, so.” Sanford shrugged. “This will be a nine days’ wonder, marveled over and then forgotten. Such is the way of the world.” He cocked his head. “How are Abel and Diana getting on?”

  “I don’t think they’d want you to know details.” Ruby had received a letter from Diana the day before. She and Abel were going to travel together for a while, maybe find one of those towns where rich people liked to vacation, so she could set up a new shop – someplace far from the sea. “Diana did ask me to pass on her thanks for your generosity, though. You paid quite a bit more for her shop than it was worth.”

  He nodded. “I can be generous when it’s called for. And I prefer them out of my city. Those two are troublemakers, and they know too many of my secrets.”

  “I’m surprised you didn’t have them killed. I didn’t take you for the sentimental type.”

  Sanford sipped his champagne. “I am not sentimental. Leaving them alive is just good business. If you murder people who save your life, word could get around, and then other people might be reluctant to save your life in the future. Tell me – was Diana working against the Lodge all along, or was she really just swept up in that business with the Ravening Deep, like she claimed?”

  “I have no idea,” Ruby tilted her glass back and forth, watching the liquid slosh. She wasn’t about to share confidences with this man, especially about Diana and Abel. She knew well that Sanford could hold grudges, and hold them well. “Also, I’m bored, because we aren’t talking about me. Why did you really want to meet? So far everything you’ve said could have fit on a postcard.”

  He ran his fingertip around the rim of the champagne glass. “I told you we’re even. You saved my life, so your past transgressions against me are forgiven.”

  “I got the short end of that deal, but sure.”

  “I worry that you’ll be tempted to transgress against me in the future, however,” he said. “I don’t believe your experiences have changed you in any fundamental way – you are, in certain respects, unchangeable. I respect that. I may even be similar. You have an even more intimate knowledge of the Lodge and my own potential weaknesses than before, and you may want to exploit them.”

  “I get it – if I steal from you again, you try to kill me again. I know what a clean slate means. I didn’t expect permanent immunity.”

  “You misunderstand. I think the best way to make sure we’re never at odds again is to… continue our alliance. You are skilled, Miss Standish. You can acquire valuable items discreetly and with minimal bloodshed. I could use someone with your abilities.”

  “You want to hire me? To steal what?” She’d anticipated a lot of ways this night could go, but a job offer hadn’t featured in any of her speculations.

  “Nothing, right now. What I propose is to keep you on retainer, the same way I do with my attorneys. I will pay you monthly, and in exchange, you will make yourself available to me as needed.” He leaned forward. “And just like those attorneys I keep on retainer, you will be forbidden to work against me.”

  Ruby thought about it. “I don’t much like being on a leash, Sanford.”

  “It would be a long leash, and it would furthermore be a leash made of gold. I don’t anticipate calling on your services more than once or twice a year. We can craft a contract that addresses your concerns. I am a reasonable man. What do you say?”

  Ruby knew Diana would disapprove. Working for Sanford meant furthering his interests and those of the Silver Twilight Lodge. But it would be much better to have him as a friend than an enemy, wouldn’t it? Besides, a girl had to eat, and dance, and otherwise keep herself entertained.

  Ruby nodded. “All right. Assuming we can work out the details, I’m game.”

  “Let’s drink to our partnership.” Sanford raised his glass, eyes twinkling. He could be almost charming when he bothered to make the effort. Ruby just had to remember he was actually as sentimental as a crocodile.

  After she sipped, she said, “Does this mean I get to be a Keeper of the Crimson Veil or a Master of the Final Abyss or something?”

  “We’ll have to come up with a special title just for you,” Sanford said. “I’m glad Cain never managed to duplicate you. You’re much better as one-of-a-kind.”

  “I’m happy there’s only one of you, too, old man.”

  •••

  Carl Sanford relaxed in the red leather armchair in his innermost office, safe in the comfort of the Silver Twilight Lodge. His warden had just briefed him on the improvements made to security. They wouldn’t suffer from a breach like Cain’s again.

  He flipped through his membership roster, noting the rows of red slashes. Cain had coopted nearly fifty citizens of Arkham in all, and far too many of them had been connected to the Lodge in one way or another. Sanford had lost a great many Initiates, and a few Seekers, but no one of higher ranks, apart from poor Altman. Any greater adept who’d allowed themselves to be captured and killed by Cain’s cult would have been stricken from the rolls retroactively anyway, for incompetence.

  The damage to the Lodge had mostly been cosmetic, with some regrettable exceptions. His vault had been breached, and some of the precious objects inside irreparably damaged. The shoggoth had managed to kill a number of invading cultists, but had been almost destroyed itself in the process; the comets had simply torn it to pieces. The creature would take a while to regenerate enough to be of use again. In all, Cain’s pride had cost Sanford a great deal in terms of people and materiel, but at least the attack had revealed weaknesses that could now be fortified. The Lodge would recover.