that any minute Gustav might stagger towards us with a petrol lamp in his hand, wide eyed cackling, finally bananas from his exciting discovery.
Despite my ruffled up fur I tried to keep my composure as much as possible and hide that I was so anxious that I was close to enrich the underworld with an ecofriendly spurt.
»So can we now come to the murders, Samantha?« I said in a tone that was supposed to sound relaxed but somewhat sounded like pathetic cawing. »If these murders actually happened.«
»I can’t really tell you how many of these murders occurred, Francis«, Samantha said. »No police in the world count dead cats. And did you ever come across a detective who wasted his working hours on what caused the death of pets? At least you don’t find anything about it in the newspapers. I’m dependent on visitors like you and Antonio in order to get more information. According to what I found out recently, they seem to be ritual murders. The victims’ ears have been ›deseeded‹ every time, yes, I guess, this word sums up the facts of the case pretty well. And as my master lives rather hermitical and is pretty fond of occultism, I hit on the idea of nosing him a little. I started with the literature at his giant library, which he is busy reading every day. From there finding the connection was a cakewalk.«
»What connection?«
»Theosophy is about incarnation, Francis. According to it, after death the soul just wanders next door; it’s reborn in another body, most of the times as a perfectly new creature, an animal for example. That’s when we get into the game. As our kind has been linked to witchcraft and supernatural ever since, and we are seen as the carrier of the netherworld’s secrets, they share the belief that it’s mostly us who carry the souls of the human ancestors. A superstition, which is pretty resistant. By sacrifice of our kind during their occult ceremonies, the theosophists therefore try to free the noble souls, get in contact with them and maybe even catch them.«
The corridor descended steeply now. We were getting close to our destination, I could feel it very strongly. It got brighter and brighter, and we felt a fresh breeze. The further we went down, the better the air became. I asked myself how this underground necropolis was ventilated. But I didn’t forget to ask the most important of the questions I wanted to ask Samantha.
»Have you ever witnessed such a sacrifice or were you threatened to become a victim yourself?«
»No, I’m too much soul-candy and ›inventory‹ for the Prince. Also I have been spared from such creepy demonstrations so far. But I studied all the crude things that Savoyen reads every day. That way I got to know that even the Ancient Egyptians, but also many other cultures that were characterized my mysticism, thought of the ear as being the door to the soul. According to tradition the soul leaves the dying body through the ear. And if someone lends a hand with dying, maybe the good soul can be trapped right at this point. Do you understand what this is about now? All of this is adding up, Francis, especially with regard to tonight. A herald came to tell Savoyen, that there would be another ritual at this time.«
»And what are we planning to do if the time has come? Maybe alert the mobile task force of the World Wide Fund for Nature?«
»I don’t know what you are going to do against it, Francis. But I will certainly think of something to save our brothers and sisters! And after that, I will leave this royal monster once and for all.«
Weird singing started to reach our ears, which instantly caused our conversation to stop. We winced and held our breath. When we had gathered courage a little later, we saw that the recent sight of the formerly endless corridor had changed. We headed towards the last round arc, apparently the destination of our journey. Behind that it got brighter and brighter, and the weird singing, coming from hundreds of throats, increased in screaming loudness. Beyond the door a high balustrade was blocking the view, so that we still had to puzzle over what might be hidden behind it. Samantha and I exchanged a long anxious look, entailing the question whether we would really find the courage to leave our catacomb which suddenly, considering the real horror outside, didn’t seem as eerie anymore