The Lucifer Messiah by Frank Cavallo Page B

timeworn. The pages cracked when he opened it. Argus pointed a knobby finger to a gold leaf that jutted out from the middle of it. “Here, the page where I’ve marked it. Begin there. I’ve brought the English translation.”
    Sean cast an incredulous eye at the old woman and her tall aide, but he did as the lady asked.
    â€œThe words of Nestor, second Keeper of the Lore, as spoken to hisscribe, the honored Galatea”
    It did not take long for him to offer his own commentary, however.
    â€œWhat the hell is this shit?”
    â€œRead,” was all the old lady Argus replied.
    â€œIn the early day, as the green glen cradled the mist, and the sparrows announced the coming of the sun, he came to me as if spoken from a dream. First merely words, then words made flesh and earth and stone, brought to life in the haze that spread in every direction”
    Sean cringed, but he kept reading.
    â€œWhen mortal men walk among the clouds, like the gods their fathers banished, he will come. Unlike any born of the human line before, a trickster who will shed all bonds. Seek him when the master grows weary, sated from fifty feasts, the Keeper will fall to the bringer of the light, the one who was, and who will come again.
    â€œThen shall there be a new dawn. The star of morning will lead the flock back to their peace long lost. From across the veil of night, far in the cold north by way of the western sea. Lucifer of old will be reborn.”
    The end of the page brought yet more comments from the young New Yorker.
    â€œThere. I read it. Happy, lady? I didn’t follow a damn word.”
    â€œNo? You should, Lucifer,” Argus said, moving closer to him and pointing at the words on the yellowed page.
    â€œWhat? You really are a crazy old coot aren’t you?”
    â€œYou’ve no idea how right you are,” Argus answered, getting up from the couch to stand before Sean.
    â€œSee, at least we got somethin’ between us. Now, ifwe’re all done with the mumbo-jumbo, it’s been nice talkin’ with you guys, but I’ve got some Czech beer with my name written all over it.”
    â€œAbout my age, that is. I am one very old creature indeed. In fact, you’re far more right than you could possibly know.”
    Sean merely sighed, but he delayed his exit long enough for Argus to finish her words.
    â€œI was born in the year you know as A.D. 395,
anno Domini
in the language I was taught to speak as a boy.”
    â€œAs a boy? Right.” Sean almost smiled, now he knew the old hag was nuts. “I’ll give you credit, you look good for your age. I stand corrected. Nice talking with you.”
    â€œWait. I am telling the truth. I was born in Milan during the first year of the reign of Flavius Honorius, son of Theodosius the First. As a child I saw the Visigoths ride south toward Rome in 402. Later, I was a consort to one of Charlemagne’s knights. Even later I stood beside Duke Godfrey, and saw Jerusalem burn in 1099. But you have no reason to believe any of that.”
    â€œYou’re right there.”
    â€œBut you will believe this,” she said, her voice falling into a whisper. “/
know what you are”
    Sean felt a sudden, uncomfortable chill. He knew exactly what the old woman meant, even though he wished with all his heart that he didn’t.
    â€œYeah, what am I? I ain’t crazy, I’ll tell you that,” he finally answered, mustering all of his street-kid false bravado.
    â€œNo, but you are quite a rare breed, only one or twolike you in a century.”
    Sean’s expression went cold.
    â€œDon’t worry. You’re among friends here, I assure you. Others of your kind. Well, maybe not exactly your kind, but very much like you, in any case. Including me, by the way.”
    â€œAnd you are?”
    â€œThey call me Argus. And I would very much like to be your friend.”

    A soft touch on his shoulder broke him from