swirling, inky head and white teeth.
"A nightshade!" Agnus Dei cried. "Run, Father!"
They spun around to flee, but another nightshade shrieked there too. Its eyes blazed, and it flowed toward them like smoke. Its maw opened, and it screamed so loudly, Agnus Dei had to cover her ears.
She moved her head from side to side. Surrounded! She could see more nightshades behind those closest to her. They filled the tunnels.
"Light, we need light," she said, but they had no oil, no torches, and the tunnel was too narrow to become dragons and blow fire.
Father slipped his hand into hers. "Agnus Dei," he said, "I'm sorry. I love you."
She felt the nightshades begin to tug her soul. Wisps of it tore free from her, like feathers plucked from a chicken. She closed her eyes, tears stinging.
"Goodbye, Dada. I love you too."
The nightshades shrieked, and Agnus Dei saw the darkness beyond them. She saw the endless worlds, the dimensions that spun her head, the space, eternal, the caverns. She prayed with trembling lips. Goodbye, Mother, Father, sister. Goodbye, Kyrie.
She fell to her knees, and her eyes rolled back.
Then a voice spoke.
"Enough."
The nightshades howled. Agnus Dei's soul slammed back into her body. She opened her eyes, trembling. She squeezed Father's hand. She could see now, she realized. Firelight blazed.
"Who spoke?" she demanded and rose to her feet.
Her heart thrashed.
Agnus Dei snarled and drew her sword.
"You."
Carrying a torch, Dies Irae stood before them in the tunnel.
Agnus Dei charged at him, screaming, sword raised.
Dies Irae waved his hand, and nightshades swarmed. They slammed into Agnus Dei, knocking her down. She fell, cursing. She leaped up and charged again, sword swinging. Dies Irae waved his hand again, and again nightshades knocked Agnus Dei to the ground.
"We can keep doing this all day, sweetness," Dies Irae said, voice soft. He spoke from within his helmet, the steel monstrosity that looked like a griffin's head. "You would tire of it sooner than I would, I promise you."
Agnus Dei pushed herself up, sword in hand, snarling. Father stood beside her, eyes dark, silent. Agnus Dei made to charge again, but Dies Irae clucked his tongue, wagged his finger at her, and she paused.
"I'm going to kill you," she said, snarling.
He laughed and lifted his visor. Agnus Dei couldn't help but gasp. Dies Irae had changed. His face had once been tanned gold. It was now white streaked with black lines, as if oil coursed through his wrinkles. His left eye was gone. An empty socket gaped there, blazing. Starlight and darkness filled the wound, as if nightshade maggots nested there. His good eye blazed, milky white and swivelling. He looked, Agnus Dei thought, like a man possessed by demons. Which, she decided, he was.
"I think not, my daughter," Dies Irae said.
"Silence," Father said and took a step forward, raising his sword.
Dies Irae laughed. "But I am her father, Benedictus. When I raped Lacrimosa, that little whore of yours, I created two smaller whores—Gloriae and Agnus Dei."
While he spoke, Agnus Dei loaded her crossbow. She fired.
Dies Irae had only to stare in her direction. Sparks and black smoke flowed from his empty eye socket, and the quarrel shattered. Steel shards flew, hit the walls, and fell to the floor.
"My my, daughter," Dies Irae said. "You are almost as feisty as your sister, are you not? I spared Gloriae's life. Yes. I let her flee into exile. Do you know why I let her live, Agnus Dei? I let her live because she killed many Vir Requis in my service. She killed children, did you know? Maybe some had been your friends." He raised his left arm, the prosthetic arm made of steel, ending with a mace head like a fist. "But you were never in my service, second daughter. I will kill you... and that pathetic brother of mine who claims to be your true father."
Dies Irae ran forward, mace swinging.
Agnus Dei dropped down and slid forward. The floor was wet, and she flew past the charging Dies Irae. She swung her sword. The blade clanged against Dies Irae's armor, doing him no harm. Jewels flew from it, and its gilt peeled, but the steel beneath stood.
Dies Irae spun, swinging his mace. Agnus Dei ducked, and the mace whooshed over her head.
Father slammed his sword, hitting Dies Irae's helmet. The helmet dented. Dies Irae's head tilted, and Agnus Dei dared to hope that his neck was broken... but he only laughed and punched Father with his good fist, a fist covered