There were eight of them outside the door, waiting for us. I guessed they saw us turn around. The fact that a huge green and red dragon was descending on them from the Japanese hells, didn’t impress them at all. Four aimed their guns, and the others drew out sabers. Were they priests? Quinn said Marchosias would not be able to summon his demons — so were these puppets just like the ones back in Mexico City? It would make sense.
Just before I could ask if there was a way to spare them, we flew into the oppressive presence of Marchosias. We didn’t feel that inside the chapel however, only outside. Looking up, it didn’t take long to find the black spot in the night, darker than black, a pit inside the heavens. So the chapel, for whatever reason, was blocking the massive controlling power of Marchosias.
“I hear you,” Quinn said. “Not happy about killing off priests myself, especially innocent ones. I can blow open the doors, but I need them out of the way. Any ideas?”
Just one, I thought, and launched eight of my drones, only this time I wasn’t going to be looking at pictures. I aimed each at the face of a priest. Through them, I could guide each.
Quinn made a sudden turn, spiraling up and then down again, giving my drones time to reach their targets. None of the eight saw them coming until they were only feet away, and all of them hit the ground in a reflexive attempt to avoid the buzzing missiles. That’s when Quinn exhaled a hurricane and blew the doors of the chapel off their hinges.
“I can fix that,” he said, as we landed, running for the opening.
On my way past I picked up two of the guns. They were both 9mm like Raw had trained me with. I couldn’t shoot these men, but I could keep them from shooting us. Quinn agreed, and picked up the other two.
“Do you know where the dinner was supposed to be held?” I asked Quinn as we ran through the Sistine Chapel.
“Under, down several levels. There should be guards, but I’m wondering if they’re still alive or unchanged.”
He ran past me to the far wall, and touched one of the eyes of what most people call Cherubs. Of course, these little babies with wings were not Cherubs. They weren’t even close to Cherubim. The Cherubim were ten feet tall with wings of flame.
Just as the floor opened exposing a stairway down, the earth shook as two impacts hit the grounds outside. A storm of dirt and debris blew in through the open doors. The doors on this side of the chapel blew open, and Raw walked through. Mostly he looked like himself, but he still had his red wings and a tail, so he looked more demon than human, and seriously pissed off.
“We think those priests are puppets, Raw. Please don’t hurt them if you don’t have to. The real threat is above, Marchosias is up there.” I called to him over the rumbling earth.
“I saw him. It’s not Marchosias, but rather the one waking him. If he believes the animal in him is a match for the demon in me, he’s mistaken,” Raw told me, sounding unimpressed. “What are you doing?”
“We’re going down to check on the religious leaders below.”
Raw looked to Quinn. “Get them out, under the river. We’ll handle this side. Then get her out of here.”
“Right,” Quinn said. “Let’s go darling. The quicker, the better for everyone.”
The stairs were steep, nearly ladder steep. I sent three drones down into the pitch black with LED lights on high producing 1350 lumens, to find a landing, twenty feet square, holding four Swiss guards, armed with military weapons. A 100-watt bulb puts out 1500 lumen, by way of comparison. In the pitch black, that was more than enough. Also there were two other stairways, one behind them, and the other descending to the right.
Quinn motioned for me to wait, and then held up a medallion for the guards to see. Using two more drones, I lit us up as well, so they could see us. Quinn moved down the stairs, holding up the medallion and talking to them in a calm tone. He explained that the attack was moved outside of the chapel and other forces were handling it, and they should not let anyone without a Holy See invitation get pass them, even if they were priests. Quinn motioned for me to come once they agreed, and we took the stairway to the right.
His holiness wasn’t pleased that Quinn had a secret tunnel under the river and into the Sistine Chapel. Still, that didn’t keep him from using it to get to Quinn’s safe house with the others. He also wasn’t happy that his advice was no longer needed. No words were spoken to this effect, but I could tell he felt put out.
Once in the safe house, a group of Swiss guards arrived in street clothing, carrying luggage bags filled with weapons. Any thought I had about them being around just for show vanished as I watched them set up.
Quinn guided me into a room. “They’ll be fine from this point. The information is already known — there is no point in killing them now. And if we are right, and it is Marchosias, this is even more true.”
From what I had gathered, what he said made sense. Marchosias wouldn’t think twice about killing all of them if there was a reason, but they weren’t important enough to him to kill for no reason.
Looking to Quinn, I asked, “What’s a Sleeper?”
Quinn crossed the room, opened a cabinet and took out a bottle of rum.
“There are beings like Marchosias who have been around since creation, just like my brothers and me. They have their own paths, and some of them have long waits between being needed or aroused or even interested in what is going on in the world. Bored out of their minds after thousands of years of waiting, most of these have buried themselves into the earth, and go into a kind of hibernation state.”
“They go to sleep?” I asked.
He handed me a glass. “That’s what it is called, but it’s not sleep as you or even I experience it. Their minds are still active, and occasionally a part of them walks the earth, just to check things out. Some of them have portions of themselves out in the far reaches of space, searching creation for a calling. C-Source is using the sight and knowledge of the sleeper in order to gain more power within the Cartel in Mexico. He’ll eventually make his way into the government and won’t stop moving until he has all the power he cares to hold. There’s also the possibility that a mortal is the one in charge and he’s just following the mortal’s bidding.”
“And we could find this mortal…”
“We could end this without having to face him directly. He’ll show up to protect his summoner, I’m sure. But again, once the person is dead, we wouldn’t be important enough to him to continue to fight.”
I didn’t like the idea of setting out to kill the summoner. I wasn’t a killer. But he was, whoever he was, so I kept my mouth shut on the topic. We needed to find him first.
“Well Quinn, I guess we are going back to Mexico then,” I said with a small smile.
“Just as well. Raw has a big night there tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to miss the show,” Quinn grinned.
I thought about the vision I had, the numbers of the dead, and the large bundles of drugs and money taken by Mexican and American forces. The newspaper headlines, with my name on the bi-line. Two days from now…
“Tijuana then,” I said softly.
“That’s where Raw is, right?”
“Would you mind if I flew with you?” I asked.
“You would probably enjoy being on my back this time,” he offered.
“I’ll bring the bottle,” I said, picking up the bottle of rum, and my small backpack.
***
In his dragon form, his head was wreathed with a mane of fur as fine as angel hair or baby’s breath. “This isn’t going to cut me is it?”
“Hope not,” he said. “The only other who has ridden there was the goddess Inanna. I doubt anything could cut her.”
“That must have been the original, right? Why do you call us all Inanna? And how many of us have there been?”
“Over four hundred. Inanna was our first. We had been here for about ten thousand years before then, and it would be another five thousand before Sumer came into being. She was young, for a goddess, but already strong. Already the Queen of Heaven. Raw approached her with his idea. She saw the wisdom in it, and agreed to choose every five hundred years, who the Dragon of the Age would be. Many years later she came to us. She said it was her idea, but I’m still sure it was Enki’s, to use human women. Her argument was it was the human’s world, and our Ages affected humans. It should be a human who chose. Her family was focused on Sumer, and she had her own needs to fulfill. Creating a namsub with Enki, she put into the world a strand of her DNA, which ran through the races — and every two hundred years or so, an Inanna is born, and we are aware of her.”
“You knew when I was born?” I asked him.
“Give or take a few years, sure,” he answered.
With a curling swish of his body he left the ground, heading West across the sea to the Atlantic. With me on his shoulders.
I was riding a dragon!