snack food in our house.”
I’d never thought being an only child might have advantages. The inside of the chapel couldn’t have contrasted more with the outside. The tile sparkled with immaculate white glitter, and soft elevator music played overhead.
Ari opened her mirror and called Grimm “We’re in. Where does the bell go?”
“The same place a princess goes,” said Grimm. “The tower. Don’t fear—you can both observe the ceremony from the loft.”
“Check on Liam. Is he okay?” I would have tried to contact him by bracelet, but the dragon had never really embraced speech of any sort. Violence and fire were its native tongue.
Grimm didn’t answer for far too long. “He’s not dead. You may thank him later. Though Haniel may not harm you, I am certain the guests for his ascension ceremony would not be so constrained.”
Of course not. No wonder Haniel hadn’t minded my presence. “I’ll make it up to Liam. Why is the inside of this place not trashed?”
“Everything about the midnight chapel was designed to withstand the test of time, except the people who inhabited it.” Grimm pointed to the left. “Up the stairs to the belfry. Though I should warn you—it is unlikely to be empty.”
I shifted the bell in my grasp. Large, heavy, and metal, I considered it perfect for clubbing in confined spaces. Ari slipped the bag over her shoulder and pulled her gun out. And up the stairs we went. Midway up, the stairs opened to a loft, where I assume a choir once slept through services. The bell rope hung down all the way to the loft floor. We continued on up toward the belfry with caution.
Grimm said the belfry wouldn’t be empty. Empty can mean good things. “No, there are no monsters in here.” Or mean bad things like “Your gas tank is on E.” Empty in no way described the room at the top of the tower. Though I’d never heard about the siege of the midnight chapel, I had a good feeling I knew how it ended: with brother after brother climbing the stairs, desperate to ring the bell. And brother upon brother killed by knife blade as they entered the room. Their dessicated corpses littered the room, sunken sockets still staring toward the ceiling. And what remained of the last bell lay shattered on the floor.
I loved Liam. His art was his life, and he could bend and twist metal to make shapes and designs I could only imagine. But bell-work was not his forte. Liam’s bell shone a dull brass color, without decoration or enhancement. Only a thick metal bead at the lip adorned it.
The original bell, on the other hand, had been made by a bell master, spun from the inside, balanced, and then engraved with runes which no doubt enhanced its power. Even the shards called out to be rung.
The bell mount waited, a long cord descending to the loft below. With Ari’s help, we lifted the bell into place, letting it rest in the rocker.
“How did Liam know this would fit?”
Grimm appeared in the surface of a broken bell shard. “I gave him the dimensions. Since I commissioned the original bell, matching the specifications was trivial.”
“Ari, you want to give it a try?” I gave the rope a test heft.
And nearly collapsed as an iron blanket of evil descended on the chapel. Imagine a quilt made of lead, and the inside of the quilt is lined with wiggling roach legs. That’s the feeling that covered me as Haniel entered the chapel. I couldn’t see the chapel sanctuary from the belfry, but instinctively, I knew this was the case.
Ari sagged for a moment, then stood up, exerting her will. For all the times I made fun of her as a princess, she had an advantage here.
“Let it begin,” shouted Haniel from below. His voice shook the floors, yet the bell didn’t so much as hum. “Who bears witness to my ascension?”
“That is your cue, ladies.” Grimm pointed to the stairs. “I wish you luck.”
What I wished for was an angel-slaying sword, or better yet, an angel-slaying fully automatic rifle. But
I’d never thought being an only child might have advantages. The inside of the chapel couldn’t have contrasted more with the outside. The tile sparkled with immaculate white glitter, and soft elevator music played overhead.
Ari opened her mirror and called Grimm “We’re in. Where does the bell go?”
“The same place a princess goes,” said Grimm. “The tower. Don’t fear—you can both observe the ceremony from the loft.”
“Check on Liam. Is he okay?” I would have tried to contact him by bracelet, but the dragon had never really embraced speech of any sort. Violence and fire were its native tongue.
Grimm didn’t answer for far too long. “He’s not dead. You may thank him later. Though Haniel may not harm you, I am certain the guests for his ascension ceremony would not be so constrained.”
Of course not. No wonder Haniel hadn’t minded my presence. “I’ll make it up to Liam. Why is the inside of this place not trashed?”
“Everything about the midnight chapel was designed to withstand the test of time, except the people who inhabited it.” Grimm pointed to the left. “Up the stairs to the belfry. Though I should warn you—it is unlikely to be empty.”
I shifted the bell in my grasp. Large, heavy, and metal, I considered it perfect for clubbing in confined spaces. Ari slipped the bag over her shoulder and pulled her gun out. And up the stairs we went. Midway up, the stairs opened to a loft, where I assume a choir once slept through services. The bell rope hung down all the way to the loft floor. We continued on up toward the belfry with caution.
Grimm said the belfry wouldn’t be empty. Empty can mean good things. “No, there are no monsters in here.” Or mean bad things like “Your gas tank is on E.” Empty in no way described the room at the top of the tower. Though I’d never heard about the siege of the midnight chapel, I had a good feeling I knew how it ended: with brother after brother climbing the stairs, desperate to ring the bell. And brother upon brother killed by knife blade as they entered the room. Their dessicated corpses littered the room, sunken sockets still staring toward the ceiling. And what remained of the last bell lay shattered on the floor.
I loved Liam. His art was his life, and he could bend and twist metal to make shapes and designs I could only imagine. But bell-work was not his forte. Liam’s bell shone a dull brass color, without decoration or enhancement. Only a thick metal bead at the lip adorned it.
The original bell, on the other hand, had been made by a bell master, spun from the inside, balanced, and then engraved with runes which no doubt enhanced its power. Even the shards called out to be rung.
The bell mount waited, a long cord descending to the loft below. With Ari’s help, we lifted the bell into place, letting it rest in the rocker.
“How did Liam know this would fit?”
Grimm appeared in the surface of a broken bell shard. “I gave him the dimensions. Since I commissioned the original bell, matching the specifications was trivial.”
“Ari, you want to give it a try?” I gave the rope a test heft.
And nearly collapsed as an iron blanket of evil descended on the chapel. Imagine a quilt made of lead, and the inside of the quilt is lined with wiggling roach legs. That’s the feeling that covered me as Haniel entered the chapel. I couldn’t see the chapel sanctuary from the belfry, but instinctively, I knew this was the case.
Ari sagged for a moment, then stood up, exerting her will. For all the times I made fun of her as a princess, she had an advantage here.
“Let it begin,” shouted Haniel from below. His voice shook the floors, yet the bell didn’t so much as hum. “Who bears witness to my ascension?”
“That is your cue, ladies.” Grimm pointed to the stairs. “I wish you luck.”
What I wished for was an angel-slaying sword, or better yet, an angel-slaying fully automatic rifle. But
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