As I looked up at the towering cathedral I started to seriously doubt my decision. I sat cross-legged on the roof of the neighboring building and yet I still had to crane my neck to see the gargoyle-topped bell tower.

I’d seen my share of churches before and not a single one of them had looked like this one. The entire building was constructed of white-veined black marble. The enormous arched doorway tucked deep in a portico was painted a garish red with heavy golden knockers.

I watched for hours as men and women in long black robes crossed the threshold. I’d shuddered the first time I’d seen them, recognizing the emblem emblazoned on the front of their robes. Half a skull with a dagger pointed down above it. The Fellowship of Fayum. It was hard to believe a bunch of cave-dwelling cultists could be this powerful.

There was something different about these followers though. They were not like the ones I met before. Every one of them had some part of them, well, missing. I don’t know how else to put it. One woman was missing her right arm, and another her left eye. Three men missing either a foot or an entire leg passed through the doorway. It was strange and far-flung from the cultists I’d met before. Granted, I hadn’t been observing them the way I was the church but surely I would have noticed something like this.

I finished writing the note about the man missing an arm and a leg dressed in the same red robe as the Lord had been in the caves. I didn’t know nearly enough about the cult but I knew the ones dressed in red outranked the ones in black.

It was all very strange. I hadn’t seen anyone I would have considered a High Priest just yet. I assumed such a high-ranking member of the clergy would be more grandly dressed than the others. Then again, I could be wrong. It had happened before.

I stood with a groan and shook out my stiff legs, moving to climb back down the building in the shadows of the alleyway behind it. Miranda would be down there with Stella. She hadn’t handled seeing the cultists well. Not that I could blame her after what she’d experienced.

We really should have just gone over the blasted wall in the merchant district. I thought more knowledge was what we needed. Knowledge was power and all that. In this case, I’m not sure it rang true.

I dropped to the ground beside Miranda. Tears were streaming down her face as she knelt on the ground holding Stella in a fierce hug. Thankfully, Stella didn’t mind a hug when the occasion called for it. This was one such occasion.

I crouch down and placed a hand on her shoulder. Miranda jerked away, her eyes focused on something far away rather than on me.

“It’s alright, I won’t let them hurt you,” I said.

“The spirits are angry here,” she whispered scrubbing at her face with a sleeve. “We have to go.”

“We need a little more information. I can gather it on my own. You don’t need to be a part of this.”

“You… you can’t go in there on your own. It’s not safe.”

I winked at her and tried to smile. “You know me, my middle name is Danger.”

“It is not,” she said, a small bubble of laughter escaping her quivering lips.

“Edward is another name for danger, isn’t it?”

“No,” she chuckled. “It means ‘rich protector’.”

I didn’t bother asking how on earth she knew that. “Even better. Let me be your rich protector.”

She smiled and climbed to her feet, squeezing my arm. “Where do you want us to meet you?”

I thought about it for a moment. Sending them back to the merchant district wouldn’t do any good. It might be unlikely but it was still possible I’d learn something important inside the church.

I pointed to a tall white spire that marked the dividing wall between the religious sector and the upper heights. “Meet me at the foot of that thing. Take Stella with you. Keep your beggar disguise up. If something happens, sick a bunch of dead shit on them.”

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“You got it. Please, be safe. Those people can’t be trusted. There’s something very dark happening here.”

“Before you go, any useful visions for me?”

She sighed and rubbed her upper arms. “No. There’s too much spirit energy here. Something is off about this place. Something I don’t want anything to do with.”

I swallowed, keeping up the façade that I was not afraid. “Go. I’ll catch up.”

She gave a terse nod before turning and walking away. Stella jumped up for a pat before following along behind the girl. I watched them go until they disappeared from my sight, then I walked the length of the alleyway until I stood at the mouth of it. The cathedral stared down at me; a towering vortex filled with hate and death.

Now I just had to get inside. It would have been easier if I had the Robe of Transformation, instead, I had to sneak up on a lone cultist, knock him out, strip him, and hog-tie him in a dark corner. I discarded the foul-smelling blanket I’d been using as a cover and threw on the robe over the top of my leathers. Thankfully, the cultist I’d decked was a chubby fellow so the robe didn’t cling to my frame.

The sky was darkening quickly now. I stepped from the shadows and joined a group of people in black robes as they slowly walked toward the high-arched doorway. I kept my head down, hoping no one would notice that I wasn’t missing any body parts. I’m not going to lie, I hoped somewhere in this place I would find out why the hell they were doing that.

We walked through the doors into a gloomy foyer. There was nothing but bare floors and walls all made from the same marble. By now I was becoming accustomed to places not making sense with the world I knew before but this cathedral took the cake.

I followed the procession as they moved through into the nave. I glanced up, looking down the aisle at the altar. It was different than I expected. There was a six-foot-wide shallow dish made of gold. Sitting in the center of it was a large sphere spouting black sludge that looked too thick to spurt but there it was doing just that.

Standing around the dish in a circle were a group of red-robed cultists. They were chanting in a low hum. These guys made the cultists in the cave look like a bunch of bandits. The men I was following filtered into the pews and took a seat. I hesitated for a moment before following suit. I guess I got to watch the show. Not exactly what I was hoping for.

I sat in silence watching the chanting men as they rocked from side to side. After a very boring ten minutes, there was a loud bang of a door and a man who had to be the High Priest walking into the room.

I know it sounds weird for me to judge him as such but let me explain. The man’s robes were made of gold and the half-skull and dagger were stitched in red. He carried a black staff that curved into a deadly spike looking a little like a kudu’s horn. He even had a red silk sash. Come on, he had to be the High Priest, right?

I watched the man as he approached the dish, dismissing the others with a simple wave of his hand. They bowed toward him before descending from the altar and joining the hundreds of black robes cultists that crowded the pews.

The man stamped the floor with his staff and the small amount of murmuring quieted until we sat in silence. I shifted uncomfortably as I waited for whatever horrific thing was about to happen.

“Tonight is a special night,” the High Priest said in a voice that carried across the entire room. “On this full moon, we give Melumek another offering. He has gifted us with the Crocodilian Reaping to cast off the foulness of the world. We must keep him strong so that he might banish the scourge that is Nigel the Sentinel and continue his glory.”

A hollow clapping filled the room. I joined all the others, not wanting to stand out. After a moment, the High Priest waved his hand again and silence returned.

“Now, welcome Brother Barry as he transcends from mediocrity and becomes a true believer.”

I barely stopped myself from clapping. It seemed like an appropriate time but no one else did. A man in the front row wearing a robe just like mine stood and made his way up to the altar to stand beside the dish.

“Brother Barry, have you submitted to Melumek?”

“I have.”

“Do you wish to choose your offering?”

The man, Brother Barry, bowed to the High Priest and said, “I have chosen to allow you in your glory to offer as you please.”

“Very well, I shall commune with Melumek. Place your hands in the divine waters.”

Brother Barry dipped his hands into the sludge. The High Priest closed his eyes and tilted his head back as he spread his arms wide. He stood that way for a long time. Too long. I was finding patterns in the wooden pew in front of me by the time he spoke again.

“Melumek has spoken to me. He demands a high price. You will go far in the Fellowship Brother, I am proud of you.”

“I am truly honored.”

The High Priest drew a deadly-looking dagger from his sash. It glowed red with what had to be magic. I stiffened as the man placed a hand on Brother Barry’s head.

“Breathe deeply and send your prayers to Melumek.”

The dagger slashed through the air. Brother Barry’s scream blasted my ears as his nose was carved from his face and dropped with a grotesque splash into the black sludge. A waterfall of blood coated the man's face as he dropped to his knees beside the hellish dish.

I regret more than ever taking the long way around.