“The whole incident with the bass, that is. I mean, when was the last time you heard of a tambourine player murdered with his own instrument?”
“A tambourine could be sharpened,” Eddie said sourly.
“Murdered?” Mike asked.
“Of course,” Eddie snapped. “What kind of idiot would it take to impale himself on a bass guitar?”
“If there were such an idiot,” Twitch observed, “he’d surely be a member of this band.”
“What’s the Left Hand?” Mike asked again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I’ll tell you later.”
“It’s easy,” Twitch said. “At the Judgment, everyone gets sorted. They’re either on the Right Hand of God—that’s really, really good—or they’re on His Left. That’s terrible. And people who have the Left Hand on them already in life, why, they’re damned. All this, of course, pertaining to humans, and other folk who are judged.”
Mike strained to listen to Twitch’s voice, trying to fathom his (her?) sex so hard, he almost missed the words Twitch said. “Are you—” he asked, about to guess a woman , but then he caught the significance of some of Twitch’s words. “Do you mean I’m damned ?”He knew that he was damned, had known it his entire adult life, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business and he wondered how Jim could possibly see that. “And do you mean some people aren’t judged at all ?”he asked. “What does that mean? And why would Jim want to rescue me just because I’m … because I have the Left Hand on me? What is he, like a priest?”
“Jim has a grudge,” Eddie said.
Jim kicked the candlestick, hard; it banged loudly against the floor.
“Against what?” Mike gripped the pistol in his hand, the sheer solidity of the gun an antidote to all the insanity he was seeing and hearing around him. He could feel the weight of his various charms and holy symbols at his sternum, too, but got very little comfort from that. “Against damned people? Against saved people?”
“Against Hell,” Twitch said. “Eddie told you. We’re sticking it to His Lowness.”
“Shut up,” Adrian growled. “I don’t jabber at you when you’re trying to find the groove, do I? Do unto others, well, you know.” The short man straightened his tie, and then waved both hands over the circle of flame, fluttering the fingers of one hand while clenching his other in a fist. “Per Osiridem te invoco, o Feldman, ad nos veni!”
The twitching increased. Mike thought he could see individual mites under Rabbi Feldman’s skin, like rapidly migrating blisters. He arched his back, pushing off the chest with his heels and shoulder blades, and lifting his body on the spike that pinned him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mike whispered to Eddie, who stood closest to him. “Is that a disease?”
“Shush,” Eddie said.
“More like an infestation,” Twitch whispered back. She picked up the gas can and held it ready, but ready for what, Mike didn’t know.
“Careful,” he suggested. “We don’t want to burn the place down.”
“Not yet,” Twitch agreed.
“Veni ad nos!” Adrian repeated. He was making the same arm and finger gestures, but they were getting faster and faster and he looked frustrated. “Tavo lanu, Rabbi Feldman, bashem hakodesh!”
Feldman’s arms twitched and his legs trembled, like a breakdancer with only one move, and not a very good one. The wooden spike kept him pinned, but his mouth opened and shut fiercely now, so hard Mike could hear his teeth click .
Adrian wiped sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Mike did the same, in sympathy, but the cracked brown leather of his jacket smeared the sweat around rather than wiping any of it off.
“Veni!” the wizard shouted. Veins stood out in his temples and in his wrists, like dancing snakes, and his face was bright red. “ Veni per Yahweh Sabaoth! Per Yahweh Sabaoth Luciferemque te jubeo, veni!”
He stamped his feet and the circle of flames raced skyward with a
“A tambourine could be sharpened,” Eddie said sourly.
“Murdered?” Mike asked.
“Of course,” Eddie snapped. “What kind of idiot would it take to impale himself on a bass guitar?”
“If there were such an idiot,” Twitch observed, “he’d surely be a member of this band.”
“What’s the Left Hand?” Mike asked again.
“Don’t worry about it,” Eddie said. “I’ll tell you later.”
“It’s easy,” Twitch said. “At the Judgment, everyone gets sorted. They’re either on the Right Hand of God—that’s really, really good—or they’re on His Left. That’s terrible. And people who have the Left Hand on them already in life, why, they’re damned. All this, of course, pertaining to humans, and other folk who are judged.”
Mike strained to listen to Twitch’s voice, trying to fathom his (her?) sex so hard, he almost missed the words Twitch said. “Are you—” he asked, about to guess a woman , but then he caught the significance of some of Twitch’s words. “Do you mean I’m damned ?”He knew that he was damned, had known it his entire adult life, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business and he wondered how Jim could possibly see that. “And do you mean some people aren’t judged at all ?”he asked. “What does that mean? And why would Jim want to rescue me just because I’m … because I have the Left Hand on me? What is he, like a priest?”
“Jim has a grudge,” Eddie said.
Jim kicked the candlestick, hard; it banged loudly against the floor.
“Against what?” Mike gripped the pistol in his hand, the sheer solidity of the gun an antidote to all the insanity he was seeing and hearing around him. He could feel the weight of his various charms and holy symbols at his sternum, too, but got very little comfort from that. “Against damned people? Against saved people?”
“Against Hell,” Twitch said. “Eddie told you. We’re sticking it to His Lowness.”
“Shut up,” Adrian growled. “I don’t jabber at you when you’re trying to find the groove, do I? Do unto others, well, you know.” The short man straightened his tie, and then waved both hands over the circle of flame, fluttering the fingers of one hand while clenching his other in a fist. “Per Osiridem te invoco, o Feldman, ad nos veni!”
The twitching increased. Mike thought he could see individual mites under Rabbi Feldman’s skin, like rapidly migrating blisters. He arched his back, pushing off the chest with his heels and shoulder blades, and lifting his body on the spike that pinned him.
“What’s wrong with him?” Mike whispered to Eddie, who stood closest to him. “Is that a disease?”
“Shush,” Eddie said.
“More like an infestation,” Twitch whispered back. She picked up the gas can and held it ready, but ready for what, Mike didn’t know.
“Careful,” he suggested. “We don’t want to burn the place down.”
“Not yet,” Twitch agreed.
“Veni ad nos!” Adrian repeated. He was making the same arm and finger gestures, but they were getting faster and faster and he looked frustrated. “Tavo lanu, Rabbi Feldman, bashem hakodesh!”
Feldman’s arms twitched and his legs trembled, like a breakdancer with only one move, and not a very good one. The wooden spike kept him pinned, but his mouth opened and shut fiercely now, so hard Mike could hear his teeth click .
Adrian wiped sweat off his forehead with his sleeve. Mike did the same, in sympathy, but the cracked brown leather of his jacket smeared the sweat around rather than wiping any of it off.
“Veni!” the wizard shouted. Veins stood out in his temples and in his wrists, like dancing snakes, and his face was bright red. “ Veni per Yahweh Sabaoth! Per Yahweh Sabaoth Luciferemque te jubeo, veni!”
He stamped his feet and the circle of flames raced skyward with a
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