that racked her whole body. The man merely sat and watched with eyes full of compassion.
“I could tell that you will see her again, in a better place,” he said when Patty calmed. “But I am by no means sure that is true. What I do know is that nothing is ever wasted. There are wheels within wheels. My own have finished turning in this meat suit I wear. I have been a ghost inside it for too long.
“I will leave you, as I myself was left, with two words, and this book. Turn again.”
Patty looked down at the book as he put it on her hands. When she looked up again he was gone.
Far out on the water the last of the turbines started to turn.
INQUISITOR
From the journal of Father Fernando. 16th August 1535
The time has come. It arrived yesterday from the New World in the hold of the Santa Angelo and it has been brought to the castle. The Inquisitor General has tasked me with discovering the true nature of the abomination, to make a full and careful examination and ascertain what manner of Inquisition might be made. It is a great honour, and one which I will fulfil with all the diligence the good Lord hands to me.
There is a certain doubt in my mind, a cloud that has hung over the proceedings since I read Juan Santoro’s journal last night. A dark evil is detailed in those pages, and although the Inquisitor General teaches us that all things are powerless before the truth of our Lord, I have grave misgivings about the thing I am about to see for the first time.
I have prayed for strength, but still my knees feel like water and there is a cold pit in my belly that nothing can assuage.
However, my duty is clear.
It is time for the questioning to begin.
From the journal of Juan Santoro, Captain of the Santa Angelo, 3rd April 1535
If there is a hell on Earth then surely it is in this place here. No God fearing man should have to face the horrors I have led my crew through on this day. I give thanks that I have brought us all back safely to the ship, and I am much afeard with the thought of the return voyage, for the cargo is most foul and ungodly. But I would be remiss in my duty to the Church if I did not report on the things that plague this new land. If the Crown wishes, as I have been told, to colonize this place, then we must know what manner of things lay claim on it at present.
In truth, I know not what we have found. The natives died bravely defending it, and for most of the day we thought that we had stumbled on a great treasure. We fought through their defences, hacking and slashing our way through the savages to the centre of that dark temple.
As I have said, we expected treasure. What we found was beyond our ken. I have had it sealed in a lead casket, and will take it back to Seville.
But the journey will be long, for already it whispers in my mind, and I fear my dreams will be dark indeed during the long months at sea ahead.
From the journal of Father Fernando. 16th August 1535
“Already it whispers in my mind.”
I had given no thought to that phrase, believing it to be the product of a sailor’s superstition. But now, having seen my new opponent, I know better.
When we opened the casket that had been brought to the chamber where the questioning was to take place, I originally bethought that we had been played false and that trickery was at work. At first glance the lead box seemed empty, its bottom a dark shadow. But as Brother Ferrer leaned over it, something surged within, and he was forced to step back so suddenly that he knocked over a brazier and sent coals skittering on the flagstones. The blackness that rose from the casket, a thick liquid which had the consistency of pitch, seemed to rear back at that, giving me time to slam the lid closed on the obscenity.
And that is when it happened.
There was a tugging in my mind, a probing of an intelligence. I knew immediately what it was doing, as it is my own profession also. Even as I sought to
“I could tell that you will see her again, in a better place,” he said when Patty calmed. “But I am by no means sure that is true. What I do know is that nothing is ever wasted. There are wheels within wheels. My own have finished turning in this meat suit I wear. I have been a ghost inside it for too long.
“I will leave you, as I myself was left, with two words, and this book. Turn again.”
Patty looked down at the book as he put it on her hands. When she looked up again he was gone.
Far out on the water the last of the turbines started to turn.
INQUISITOR
From the journal of Father Fernando. 16th August 1535
The time has come. It arrived yesterday from the New World in the hold of the Santa Angelo and it has been brought to the castle. The Inquisitor General has tasked me with discovering the true nature of the abomination, to make a full and careful examination and ascertain what manner of Inquisition might be made. It is a great honour, and one which I will fulfil with all the diligence the good Lord hands to me.
There is a certain doubt in my mind, a cloud that has hung over the proceedings since I read Juan Santoro’s journal last night. A dark evil is detailed in those pages, and although the Inquisitor General teaches us that all things are powerless before the truth of our Lord, I have grave misgivings about the thing I am about to see for the first time.
I have prayed for strength, but still my knees feel like water and there is a cold pit in my belly that nothing can assuage.
However, my duty is clear.
It is time for the questioning to begin.
From the journal of Juan Santoro, Captain of the Santa Angelo, 3rd April 1535
If there is a hell on Earth then surely it is in this place here. No God fearing man should have to face the horrors I have led my crew through on this day. I give thanks that I have brought us all back safely to the ship, and I am much afeard with the thought of the return voyage, for the cargo is most foul and ungodly. But I would be remiss in my duty to the Church if I did not report on the things that plague this new land. If the Crown wishes, as I have been told, to colonize this place, then we must know what manner of things lay claim on it at present.
In truth, I know not what we have found. The natives died bravely defending it, and for most of the day we thought that we had stumbled on a great treasure. We fought through their defences, hacking and slashing our way through the savages to the centre of that dark temple.
As I have said, we expected treasure. What we found was beyond our ken. I have had it sealed in a lead casket, and will take it back to Seville.
But the journey will be long, for already it whispers in my mind, and I fear my dreams will be dark indeed during the long months at sea ahead.
From the journal of Father Fernando. 16th August 1535
“Already it whispers in my mind.”
I had given no thought to that phrase, believing it to be the product of a sailor’s superstition. But now, having seen my new opponent, I know better.
When we opened the casket that had been brought to the chamber where the questioning was to take place, I originally bethought that we had been played false and that trickery was at work. At first glance the lead box seemed empty, its bottom a dark shadow. But as Brother Ferrer leaned over it, something surged within, and he was forced to step back so suddenly that he knocked over a brazier and sent coals skittering on the flagstones. The blackness that rose from the casket, a thick liquid which had the consistency of pitch, seemed to rear back at that, giving me time to slam the lid closed on the obscenity.
And that is when it happened.
There was a tugging in my mind, a probing of an intelligence. I knew immediately what it was doing, as it is my own profession also. Even as I sought to
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