“Call on the One,” he said firmly. Liz’s gaze wandered toward the beast behind him. Henry placed a paw on her cheek, drawing her attention back to him. “Pray.”

  Liz began whispering a prayer, her voice hesitant, the words stuttered. As she repeated it again and again, her voice steadied and grew in volume until she was almost shouting. A fire bloomed in her eyes and her gaze shifted to the demon in the room. Henry turned to see the evil writhing, clutching at its ears, its wings lifted over its head in an attempt to block Liz’s voice. Suddenly it opened its bulbous eyes and glared at them.

  “You may have won this battle, but know this,” it said in Meg’s voice, “the war will be mine through sacrifice.”

  With a silent explosion, the demon disappeared in a cloud of ash. Henry blinked, then turned to Liz. She searched the room with her gaze, finally settling it on Henry.

  “How did you know?” she asked.

  “I didn’t, not really.”

  Liz frowned. “You risked both our lives on a blind guess?”

  “Not a guess,” Henry said, shaking his head. He hopped down and stared at the floor for several moments, trying to put his gut feelings into words. When he looked back at Liz he shrugged. “It was more of a half-formed memory about each medallion having a light and dark side to them. It seemed logical that Meg wouldn’t give up after losing all of the emblems to us and, knowing she still has the Angels, it made sense that she would use the dark side of that to attack us.”

  “That was the dark side of the Angels medallion?”

  “Yes.”

  Liz cocked her head and uttered a sharp, mirthless laugh. “If that’s all the worse it is, then we have this in the bag.”

  “Indeed. It’s actually quite fortunate for us that she doesn’t seem to have a lot of practice with the emblem or things might have been much more difficult. In fact--”

  Liz held up her hand and closed her eyes. “I don’t want to know.”

  “But—”

  “Nope,” Liz said, shaking her head. “If I know what could happen, then I might change my mind. Now,” she said, levering herself off the floor, “if you don’t mind. I think I’d like another shower. I can still feel that—thing—on my skin.”

  “Of course,” Henry said, backing out of her way. He watched Liz walk toward the bathroom, hesitating at the door to peek inside. She glanced back at him, then straightened and marched inside. Henry couldn’t help noticing she left the door ajar.

  He sighed and jumped back on the couch. I have to find something, he thought as he turned another page, scanning it for any mention of the Horde or the medallions. Page after page of information filtered into his memory as he searched, becoming increasingly impatient. He’d scanned two thirds of the book and was no closer to an answer.

  He jerked his tail to turn the page. The sound of paper tearing made his ears flatten. That’s good. Why not use your claws next time. It’s more efficient. He balanced carefully between the coffee table and couch, his nose a whisker width from the page as he inspected the damage. Writing blossomed beneath his chin and floated past his eyes to hover in the air.

  Henry sat back in astonishment. A book within a book? As he read the ethereal words the fur along his back lifted.

  The one reading these words alone has the power to unlock the mysteries of the One Who Carries the Power of the Collective One saved within this ancient tome. Let the Spirit’s Breath within make clear the Way.

  The words faded and disappeared as Henry stared at them, their golden hue haunting his mind. He recognized the writing. But how? He shook his head. He could figure that out later, if there was a later. Right now he needed to decipher the meaning.

  He stared at the book, narrowing his eyes. What had he done to open the aerial book? Henry carefully balanced between the couch and coffee table again, trying to re-create the event. Slowly, he leaned closer to the page he’d been inspecting until his nose touched the paper. Nothing happened. He backed away, letting out the breath he’d been holding. The writing flared into existence again.

  His whiskers widened as he realized what Spirit’s Breath meant. All he needed to do to make the words appear was breathe on the page. Clever. He stared at the book, his tail tapping as he considered where he should begin his new search. He chuckled to himself. At the beginning, of course.

  Henry busied himself alternating between breathing on the pages and reading the floating words that appeared, learning enough about the “One Who Carries the Power of the Collective One” to understand that they had to stop Meg before she managed to bring the Horde into their reality. If they couldn’t do that, then there would be no hope for humanity—or Malkins, past or present. He was just reading a section over how to disrupt the ceremony when he heard the creak of the bathroom door.

  “So here’s what I think,” Liz said, toweling her hair dry. She’d changed clothes again. Henry glanced past the young woman into the bathroom, noting the sleeve of her first shirt draped over the rim of the waste basket, as if she hadn’t been able to bring herself to make sure the entire garment was tucked away inside. He looked back at the slender woman as she tossed her towel on the vanity and placed her hands on her hips.

  “We don’t have a real choice,” she said. “Either we use every weapon at our disposal to end this once and for all or we fumble around in the dark and end up losing every good thing left in this God forsaken world.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “I think we have to take the medallions with us.” She put up a hand to forestall Henry’s remark. “I don’t like it, but, as I said, I don’t see any way around it. It’ll be the fastest way of finding the last one. Then...” She paused, her arms moving to hug her narrow frame. “And then we can figure out how to get Meg’s.”

  Henry stared at the open book before him. He’d just discovered a possible means to stop the woman from bringing down the apocalypse, but it depended on disrupting the ceremony. He nodded to himself. If they retrieved all the medallions first, then wouldn’t that be better than waiting for the moments just before the End Times began?

  “I can think of no better plan,” Henry said, looking back at his partner. Liz hugged herself as she stared into the bathroom. Henry cleared his throat to catch her attention. He searched for something encouraging to say.

  “We can do this.”

  Liz dropped her arms and shook her head as she sauntered to the door, preparing to fetch them food from the breakfast bar downstairs like she had every morning since they arrived at the hotel. She paused, putting a hand to the door jamb, tension in her frame. Taking a breath, she stepped across the threshold and turned to shut the door. Before the door closed, Henry caught her faint whisper, “I wish I could be so sure.”

  ***

  The night seemed darker than normal. Even Henry’s heightened cat vision seemed dull. If this is what it’s like to see like a human, it’s no wonder they run into so many things at night. He stared across the well-manicured lawn at the sprawling structure, its glass-less windows like multiple hollow eyes sizing them up for their next meal. It made his skin twitch.

  Together, Henry and Liz had searched the map Liz had stolen and compared it to what Henry had learned from the book. It had taken Liz a bit of time, and some choice words, to dig up records showing that Meg owned the old abandoned hospital, the hidden location of the last medallion. According to the aerial book, only Henry would be able to find the emblem’s secret chamber.

  He glanced to the pot-holed parking lot. The number of vehicles continued to swell, the variety spanning the spectrum from junk heaps to those that would have rivaled the palace carriages. After reading about the abandoned hospital’s history and local lore on its supposed paranormal activities, Henry was convinced this was the most likely site for Meg’s plan.

  He hadn’t, however, guessed that it would be the same night he and Liz were planning to grab the last medallion. He checked the skies above. A perfectly cloudless night with a thumbnail moon. Nothing magical about it. He turned his attention back to the building, watching two robed figures disappear around a corner to the front entrance. Meg had to have moved her plans up after her recent defeat. It was the only logical reason for this gathering.

  They scurried across the lawn to the rear entrance of the abandoned hospital. Henry stared up at the door, studying its lock, while Liz kept lookout. Thankful that it was a simple dead bolt, he focused on turning the inner lock handle, then twitched his tail. He heard the tell tale thock of the lock disengaging and patted Liz’s leg. They peeked into the darkened interior“I never thought I’d be breaking and entering,” Liz whispered.

  “Technically, we’re unlocking and entering. We haven’t broken anything,” he whispered back, trotting through the door with Liz close behind. He heard a thump behind him and Liz’s gasp. The expected crash never came. Henry relaxed. Yet.

  “Where should we look first?” Liz asked.

  Henry stopped and studied their surroundings. A forgotten table stood sentry beside a huge metal cooking pot that would have easily doubled as a bathtub. A ratty, moth-eaten curtain shifted a paw width near the door in front of them, seeming to beckon them into the unknown beyond. He shuddered. Meg couldn’t have chosen a better location to raise the Horde. He felt the medallions rising and tugging toward a door.

  “This way,” he said, nodding in that direction.

  “Which way? I can’t make you out from the rest of the junk in here.”

  Henry looked into Liz’s eyes, which were as wide as she could open them trying to see in the dark. Had it been any other time, he might have laughed at the way she resembled a cartoon character he’d seen on the story box, but right now it gave him pause. Her wide-eyed stare made her look frightened and child-like.

  “Maybe I can fix that. Foh YORA ehs OHN lee,” he whispered. Liz blinked several times and straightened, looking around herself.

  “Wow. I knew cats could see in the dark, but this is amazing.” She looked down at him again. “This is cat vision, right?”

  Henry shrugged. “A close approximation. Shall we continue?”

  Liz nodded and they moved in the direction the medallions were tugging into a long hallway littered with broken glass and pieces of ceiling material. From farther down the hall, he heard voices rising and falling like waves. As they neared an intersection the voices grew more distinct. Henry caught a word every once in awhile and what he heard raised the fur along his spine.

  “Do you hear that?” Liz whispered.

  “Indeed.”

  “What are they saying?”

  “Nothing good, I assure you. I think we should avoid them if—”

  As if they had a mind of their own, the medallions leaped forward, nearly dragging Henry off his paws.

  “Looks like we don’t have a choice,” Henry wheezed, struggling against the medallions’ tug.

  “Can you hold back while I check up ahead?” Liz asked.

  Henry strained backward, his paws slipping on the dust covered floor.

  “Hurry,” he gasped.

  Liz raced down the hall on her tip-toes, pausing at the intersection, before disappearing around a corner. The moments dragged by while Henry fought to keep his paws under him. The cord tightened around his neck, slowly closing off his air supply, as the medallions rotated and pulled. He would have sighed in relief when Liz’s dark form popped around the corner again if he’d had any room to breathe.

  “There’s a staircase leading to a huge room of some kind. It’s full of people. I didn’t get a good look at much else. We can’t exactly search that room for the medallion, so do you think we should follow those? I mean, what if they lead us straight into the middle of all that?”

  “No choice... I don’t think I can... stay here... much longer...”

  Henry began sliding at a faster and faster pace, until he had to decide whether to run or be dragged by the emblems like a rag. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to survive being dragged into plain sight of the multitude gathered to raise the Horde in the abandoned hospital’s grand room. Suddenly the tokens yanked him sideways, continuing to drag him down a short, dead-end hall. Henry squeezed his eyes shut, imagining what it would feel like to smack into the wall. The medallions fell to his chest with a thump.

  When nothing more happened, Henry opened his eyes a crack. A single light bulb swung in lazy arcs from the ceiling, as if someone had just pulled the chain to set its dim light aglow. The circle of light illuminated a small wooden chest in the center of darkness. As Henry padded toward it, his fur lifted. The All Knowing Eye, a symbol of the One, stared back at him from the lid. The carving glinted in the dim light, flecks of gold held fast to the aged wood.

  Henry searched the area beyond the circle of light with his gaze, unable to pierce the darkness. He turned in a slow circle, swiveling his ears for any sound, half expecting growls and hisses to assault him from the dark recesses of the room. All he heard was his own breathing.

  His gaze fell back on the small wooden chest at his paws. He bent to sniff. The faint scent of incense drifted past, bringing with it a sharp pang of memory. The last time he’d smelled that particular scent had been just hours before the demon had sent him to this time.

  He shook his head until his ears popped. There was no time for maudlin thoughts. Henry studied the clasp. A moment later he had the lid open and was staring down into a satin lined interior. The last medallion lay in the center.

  He leaned forward, expecting it to leap to the cord around his neck as the others had, but nothing happened. Perking his ears forward, he reached down with a paw to touch the disk. Words sprang into the air, their colors blinding him as they flew past his nose. Henry blinked tears from his eyes until he could focus on the floating words.

  To the Bearer of the Seven Seals, Greetings.

  It is with a heavy heart I give you this final piece, knowing it is now up to you to send the Evil Which Will Not Die back to the abyss to await the One’s Final Judgment. Your task will not be easy. You may doubt your abilities and question your faith. You may wonder if the task at hand is even worth doing. Let the Voice of the One be your guiding light in these trying times. Listen and you will Know.

  Your friend and Servant of the One,

  The One Who Carries the Power of the Collective One

  No sooner had he read the last word than the colorful note disappeared. Henry looked down at the unassuming disk in its satin lined box. Who was the One Who Carries the Power of the Collective One and how had he known where Henry would be right now? He looked back up. For that matter, where is here?

  A faint sound caught his attention. He perked his ears forward and strained to see into the darkness. The sound faded away, the darkness never wavering. Henry frowned and turned back to the medallion. It hadn’t moved to join its counterparts. Strange.

  He bent over the box, dangling the other tokens over it, hoping it would somehow excite the lone medallion into attaching itself to the cord. When nothing happened, he rolled his eyes and sat back. This is ridiculous. I’m treating these inanimate objects like living things. I need to get ahold of myself.

  The sound had returned, louder this time. Henry stared into the darkness again. Gray. It was definitely more gray than black now. He recognized the sound this time, too. It was waves from a large body of water crashing against a long shoreline. In a building? How is that possible?

  The darkness grew again, the sound receding just as waves did and leaving Henry once again in the dimly lit circle of silence with nothing more than the carved box and inert medallion. He frowned down at the little disk, wishing the Huntress was here to tell him what was going on. She was the only feline he knew of with a connection to the One and the Other Realm of demons and winged ones. Surely she would know what to do. But she’s long dead. The thought snaked its way through his mind, biting at his heart.

  He shook his head and stared at the medallion, considering how he should hook it to the cord with the others. Presumably, he might be able to snag it with a claw, but then how would he connect it to the cord? He’d need Liz’s help for that. She wasn’t here and he had no idea how he was going to get back to her. One problem at a time.

  The waves came again, bringing light with it. Henry’s ear twitched at the sound, but he ignored it, concentrating instead on the problem of the medallion. The sound continued to grow, deafening him and pulling his attention away.

  The light washed away the darkness until there was nothing left but light. Henry stared in horror as the medallion began to disappear. He struck out, claws extended, to snag the disk before he could no longer see it. The roar of the wave crashed into his mind, erasing all thought as the light stole his sight. With a desperate mewl he curled into a ball around the medallion and stared into the white void.

  “Grab him,” ordered a deep male voice.

  The air above him shifted. Henry knew without seeing that someone was reaching for the nape of his neck. He felt a sizzle of power pass from him in the direction of the unseen assailant.

  “Ack!” another man growled. The thump of his footsteps vibrated the floor next to Henry, making him imagine the man dancing away. “He zapped me.”

  “What do you mean he zapped you? He’s a cat. Cat’s don’t carry weapons. Now seize him,” said the first man.

  Henry sat up, his sight coming back. He looked from the man in charge to his underling, trying to blink details back into existence.

  “It wasn’t a weapon, sir,” said the second man. “He just…,” the man said, popping his right fingers open as he drew his hand back toward himself, “zztt.”

  “You idiots,” a woman hissed. Henry turned toward the sound of her voice, his sight nearly back to normal. The woman’s identity was unmistakable. He marveled at the medallion that hovered and twisted on a cord around her neck. He felt the pull of the medallions on the cord around his neck, yearning to be reunited. A quick glance at his paws told him the disk he’d been protecting wasn’t there.

 

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