Excerpt
Part 3. The Shadows Call

“It’s not over. It’ll never be over.”
(Sheriff of Nottingham)

Day Outlasts Century

Solemn and stooped, wearing a long dark array from top to toe, the priest was reading aloud the solemn incantations that resounded through the spacious dimly lit cave. The ornament of mysterious signs over his ritual array was carefully elaborated, and his tall faceless figure along with the formless shade looked enormous in the flickering candlelight. The vaults of the cave had former pomposity no longer, but they still thrilled impressible minds: the frescos of scenes of initiation to a weird cult, a rose-crowned matron sitting in a chariot drawn by lions in the central fresco, the filigree of the pilaster capitals. A small saline lake in the middle of the cave looked strange here. Bubbles appeared on the lake surface from time to time, and the air smelled of sulphur. Taking no notice of the ancient decoration’s beauty, the priest chanted the sacral texts, and acolytes or hired bodyguards heeded him, silently standing at the entrance. Now the text came to an end, and nothing special ensued for several seconds. Doubts rose in the priest’s mind: whether he read the texts correctly? was anything wrong? And now, the lake water rippled; the oil-lamps’ flame flashed up; somebody gave a screech. “Belarriss!” exclaimed the priest. “Magna Mater! Goddess! We resuscitate you in order to worship you, to rebuild your temples so that the cult of the goddess Belarriss again…” The water seethed, the air sparked, and a pillar of a luminescent substance rose rapidly taking shape of a human.