“You are late then,” Arawn said. “I have survived to this room. By day’s end, the Vatican and all within it will be mine.”
“The Word will never allow it, John Lewis Hugo!” the Cardinal Vicar countered.
“Cormac Pell O’Connor,” Richard explained. “What you believe to be Hugo is in fact the ancient fey lord, Arawn, having set wheels in motion centuries ago to destroy the Vatican and the world of man, using Philip Plantagenet to meet his own ends and build an army for a different conquest entirely.” Richard paused, instead looking at Arawn. “Even now the Tuatha de Dannan fight your army in Annwn.”
“You lie,” Arawn growled. “The army I built would not be so easily spent.”
“Where is Philip if I lie?” Richard asked.
Twisting the knife, Arawn did not answer.
“A fey lord killed the Cardinal Seer then…” the Vicar said.
“And he will not gain the Vault behind us,” the Pope added. “Arawn, return to your world of Annwn. The relics in these walls will not be yours to possess.”
“Within that Vault is the ability to expose centuries of Church lies,” Arawn said to Richard. “I know you hate them as much as I. This world can no longer crusade against those it does not agree with. The Tuatha de Dannan are needed to the banish evil of those lies. Once mankind knows we exist, it will look for truths beyond their narrow noses. The relics are needed. The swords these men carry are part of that collection!”
“Only one man was ever meant to control that much power,” the Pope argued. “And He has long since been martyred and become the Word.”
“You hoard them for your own devices!” Arawn shouted.
“The Vigilo prote—” the Vicar began.
“Your Vigilo is an abomination!”
Richard kept the Dark Thorn before him, wondering what he’d gotten himself into again. The knight hated Arawn for what the fey lord had done, having killed his wife and used him for an advantage. Richard also hated the Church, the lies Arawn spoke of all too real. He knew he could not let Arawn gain the Vault, but the Vigilo were as culpable for centuries of murder. The world spun about him. For the first time, Richard did not know what to do. Arawn was a danger he had witnessed firsthand, but aiding the Pope and the Cardinal Vicar helped another side just as evil.
“Richard McAllister, look to history!” Arawn said, still holding the Guard by the throat. “Without the crusading desires of the Catholic Church pushing my kind from this world, there would have been no need for Annwn. Or the portals. Or Knights of the Yn Saith. Your wife never needed to die, had the Vigilo been satisfied with their own place in the world. The fey seek balance. Ultimately, the men in front of us represent an evil that drew us here.”
“Your wife is not the issue here, McAllister,” the Pope argued. “This creature must atone for—”
“He will!” Richard roared, slamming the Dark Thorn against the stone floor. “Remember this though, pontiff. I am not here for you. Or your Vigilo. I come here to set right wrongs.”
“Get the Heliwr then, Templars!” Arawn shouted.
The room erupted into pandemonium. Arawn was like a snake. He dodged the thrust and sent the dagger plunging into the neck of the Swiss Guardsman. Blood spurted everywhere. Richard barely had time to bring forth the fire of the Dark Thorn in defense as the Templar Knights charged with swords drawn. Steel rang. Grail bags gave life to the warriors attacking Richard. He barely had time to think. In the close quarters it was hard for him to move, but he gave the ground he needed to maneuver, releasing the pent-up magic inside of him, the fire of the Dark Thorn urgent.
As he gave ground, one of the Templars swung his sword in a broad arc even as the other attacked Richard from the side. For the first time the knight used the Dark Thorn as a club, parrying the sword even as he sent his fire directly into the man’s face.
The Templar Knight fell backward, twisting away.
Richard incinerated the bag on his back.
He had only just ended the first threat when the second Templar Knight fought through the fire, roaring his battle call like a maddened bull and swinging with great force. Barely having time to dodge and wielding only enough fire to slow the warrior down, the Red Cross backed away until cornered against a