children, it seemed—under the wings—were of one and the same body. When the wings stretched to their full expanse, they stretched ten feet wide and began to glow with the golden light from the water. The fountain shook. Decon saw an eye from one of the heads open…for just a brief second. It was closed again so quickly that he was scarcely sure it had actually happened. Then the wings folded back in, covering the two-headed child in its golden embrace.
But what was initially golden soon was blood red as the water was stained with the child’s blood. Decon removed his hands from the stoup; they were empty except for the bloody water that stained them. He thrust his hand into the deep redness again, splashing about, feeling around for the child, and after several long seconds he brought out his hands, palms up, and watched as the red liquid drained between his fingers. His eyes met Teret’s and he shook his head.
“ What is it, Decon?”
He didn’t answer. He looked to Plague, who came over and thrust his own hands into the red liquid.
“ He’s gone,” they said together. Decon raised his hands to his face and tasted the liquid. “It’s blood–solid, pure blood. In all my years as friar, I have never seen or heard about anything like this.” He stepped away from the fountain and glanced at the attached statue, replaying the image of the opening eye in his mind. Did he really see that? That seemed more important to him somehow than discovering why or how the boy had dissolved when placed in the holy water. There was a way to know if the eye had opened though. “Sister Teret, Bart, did you see—”
But then Rita Morgan came rushing up the aisle, presumably having broken away from both the sheriff and chancellor. “You have defiled this cathedral and damned all of us to a certain death! You have forgotten the teachings of Ragas!” Teret moved to catch Rita before she could come any closer to the friar. “Get your hands off me, heathen! ” She spit in Teret’s face, turned around, and stomped toward the exit where her husband waited for her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and the remaining people spread to make a wide berth for their exit.
“ Get them the hell out of here!” Decon roared.
***
As the crowd outside the cathedral finally went home, leaving the friar, physician, parochial vicar, sheriff, and chancellor, it was time to reflect on the events they had just experienced. Both Decon and Teret were looking to Plague, who was looking at the chancellor. The sheriff was the first to speak. “Don’t look at me. It’s your water.”
“ It’s my water?” Decon asked at the same time that Teret said, “That’s a curious thing to say.”
“ What I mean is, I’ve never seen anything like this,” Franz stammered—an unusual occurrence for the intimidating sheriff.
“ Neither have we,” Decon and Teret said together.
“ Well, I don’t know. Children usually don’t dissolve when you put them in water,” Plague said. “And the children—or that child , the fountain, whatever—who knew it could do that?”
“ Not I,” Decon said. “It’s been in the cathedral for 2,000 years–since Ragas. There are likely many more mysteries hidden away in this cathedral, secrets of which none has ever heard; the beautiful two-headed angel.”
“ So lovely,” Teret agreed.
Franz scoffed. “More like a two-headed monster! You’re a bunch of sickos if you ask me.” Then he laughed. Of course he was the only one, but he laughed as if what he had just said was the funniest thing in the world. The chancellor tugged his beard and looked sternly down at the sheriff, who quickly realized he was the only one to find his comment humorous.
“ Get out,” Decon said.
“ No, let him stay,” said Teret. “You’ve important business to discuss.”
“ James and Rita are probably already making their rounds, or holding their own sermon explaining that devils are engaged in witchcraft
But what was initially golden soon was blood red as the water was stained with the child’s blood. Decon removed his hands from the stoup; they were empty except for the bloody water that stained them. He thrust his hand into the deep redness again, splashing about, feeling around for the child, and after several long seconds he brought out his hands, palms up, and watched as the red liquid drained between his fingers. His eyes met Teret’s and he shook his head.
“ What is it, Decon?”
He didn’t answer. He looked to Plague, who came over and thrust his own hands into the red liquid.
“ He’s gone,” they said together. Decon raised his hands to his face and tasted the liquid. “It’s blood–solid, pure blood. In all my years as friar, I have never seen or heard about anything like this.” He stepped away from the fountain and glanced at the attached statue, replaying the image of the opening eye in his mind. Did he really see that? That seemed more important to him somehow than discovering why or how the boy had dissolved when placed in the holy water. There was a way to know if the eye had opened though. “Sister Teret, Bart, did you see—”
But then Rita Morgan came rushing up the aisle, presumably having broken away from both the sheriff and chancellor. “You have defiled this cathedral and damned all of us to a certain death! You have forgotten the teachings of Ragas!” Teret moved to catch Rita before she could come any closer to the friar. “Get your hands off me, heathen! ” She spit in Teret’s face, turned around, and stomped toward the exit where her husband waited for her. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders and the remaining people spread to make a wide berth for their exit.
“ Get them the hell out of here!” Decon roared.
***
As the crowd outside the cathedral finally went home, leaving the friar, physician, parochial vicar, sheriff, and chancellor, it was time to reflect on the events they had just experienced. Both Decon and Teret were looking to Plague, who was looking at the chancellor. The sheriff was the first to speak. “Don’t look at me. It’s your water.”
“ It’s my water?” Decon asked at the same time that Teret said, “That’s a curious thing to say.”
“ What I mean is, I’ve never seen anything like this,” Franz stammered—an unusual occurrence for the intimidating sheriff.
“ Neither have we,” Decon and Teret said together.
“ Well, I don’t know. Children usually don’t dissolve when you put them in water,” Plague said. “And the children—or that child , the fountain, whatever—who knew it could do that?”
“ Not I,” Decon said. “It’s been in the cathedral for 2,000 years–since Ragas. There are likely many more mysteries hidden away in this cathedral, secrets of which none has ever heard; the beautiful two-headed angel.”
“ So lovely,” Teret agreed.
Franz scoffed. “More like a two-headed monster! You’re a bunch of sickos if you ask me.” Then he laughed. Of course he was the only one, but he laughed as if what he had just said was the funniest thing in the world. The chancellor tugged his beard and looked sternly down at the sheriff, who quickly realized he was the only one to find his comment humorous.
“ Get out,” Decon said.
“ No, let him stay,” said Teret. “You’ve important business to discuss.”
“ James and Rita are probably already making their rounds, or holding their own sermon explaining that devils are engaged in witchcraft
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