Assassin of the Damned (Dark Gods) by Vaughn Heppner Page A

much of it had passed since Ofelia had driven me through the castle’s black gate?
    By the phase of the moon, it seemed as if many nights had passed. Perhaps the castle had been like an evil fairy tale. In those, time often moved strangely. The nightmare of the tunnels…it seemed like I’d been down there a lifetime.
    I lifted my arms and soaked in the moon rays. This was my food, water and air. It felt wonderful, glorious. The coin wanted my attention. The presence felt stronger now that I stood in the moonlight.
    “No,” I said.
    I felt a brief moment of anger—that I’d be sorry for this decision. Then there was nothing at all.
    Shortly, I recalled Lorelei’s parting words. I must beware the minions of the Lord of Night. They would be hunting for me. The priestess of the Moon yet hunted for me, I knew. I glanced about, but couldn’t spy the vile castle or even the hills that had surrounded it.
    I did notice a faint stench. The crack lay at the bottom of a narrow valley. There were pools of scummy water edged with lilies and nearby hills. Those were more jagged than the pervious hills and lacked vineyards. A fire shined like a beacon on one of the hills. With my hand, I shaded my eyes from the moon. A dark town lay higher up on that mountain. A dirt road wriggled its way past the town. The stench came from that direction.
    Was that a watch fire? Did a sorcerer and his underlings wait for my arrival? I needed directions to Perugia. Maybe Erasmo waited there with his minions. He was the Lord of Night. Erasmo. My hands clenched of their own accord. I headed for the hill fire, all the while keeping a wary eye out for the lizard-beast.
    ***
    The stench made horrible sense. I looked down at an old limestone pit. Rotting corpses lay in heaps, one atop the other. There were men, women and children, hundreds of them. I recalled Ofelia’s words about the plague. The corpses had whole heads, meaning no axe or sword had smashed their skulls. Many had lumps under their armpits and ugly sores. It hadn’t been a massacre, but pestilence.
    I squinted at the hillside fire.
    The limestone pit was at the bottom of the hill. The fire was a quarter way up. Instead of vineyards or orchards, this hill looked like pastureland for sheep. I sensed motion there, but couldn’t see the actual flames. It seemed as if shapes moved around the fire. A breeze brought what seemed like songs. When the wind stilled, the sounds became silent.
    Would creatures of the night sing songs? I could not picture Erasmo sitting among them tapping his fingers. But I was curious nonetheless. I followed the dirt road up the mountain.
    ***
    I crept toward the bonfire, and I swear my coin wriggled. I clutched my belt there. The feeling was more than a premonition. Stay away. You’re not yet ready for this .
    I smiled grimly and slipped behind a mossy boulder.
    The bonfire blazed with a tepee of pine trunks. Flames leapt twenty feet high and trails of sparks spiraled toward the stars. Why would the Moon Lady fear that I saw this?
    A cluster of parked wagons stood at the edge of the bonfire’s light. Mules and horses cropped grass or munched oats from feedbags. Hobbles kept them stationary. Equine curiosity kept the animals focused on the people around the fire. There were young and old, rich and poor. They held hands and danced around the giant fire. They chanted:

    Ring around the rosy,
    Pockets full of posy,
    Hush, hush, hush, hush,
    We all fall down .

    At ‘down,’ they collapsed as if struck dead. They lay there as the fire crackled. Soon they arose, clasped hands and once more began the dance and chant. Dogs wandered among the people. A few of the curs barked along as if part of the ceremony.
    As I watched, a pang of loneliness touched me. These were ordinary folk, even if their activity was baffling. Since awakening, I’d only seen sulking mercenaries, a gravedigger, a sorcerer’s minion and altered men as hounds. I’d seen shambling corpses, an