Page 28 of The Malevolent Eight

‘Yeah!’ bellowed Corrigan from the other side of the trenches. ‘Enlighten us, oh wise coven leader, why couldn’t we just have rented a fucking hovel instead of having to build one ourselves?’

‘It’s not a pigpenora hovel,’ I shouted at my endlessly critical comrades for the umpteenth time. ‘We’re building acathedral: twelve sides, each twelve yards long.I’mnot the one who inscribed the Ritual of Celestine Invitation upon the ancient books of Auroral Law, and since bitching about the ceremonial requirements isn’t likely to persuade the Lords Celestine to appear any faster, maybe you could all get off my fucking back about it!’

Galass, whose blood magic-infused long locks were vastly more effective in concealing the delicate portions of her anatomy than Alice’s wings, paused to scrutinise the posts and ribbons rising up from the outline I’d marked out in the soggy ground. ‘But Cade, when the Lords Celestine came through the gates made from the corpses of the Seven Brothers six months ago, you said it was the first time they’d stepped onto the Mortal realm. How can you be sure the ritual will work?’

‘Because I’ve performed it before.’

Everyone stopped and turned to stare at me, making it clear I was going to have to explain something that would lead to even more questions about my past. Questions I’d rather not answer.

Just make sure not to bring up the Celestine of Rationality and you’ll be fine, I reminded myself.

‘It’s like this,’ I began, for possibly the only time in my life wishing I had the abilities of a luminist to conjure images out of thin air. ‘We’re not actually summoning the Celestines themselves, we’re entering into thePresenceof the Lords Celestine. On occasion, those arrogant pricks like to roam the Mortal realm and interfere directly in human affairs. The bodies they conjure for this purpose are, collectively, known as “The Presence”.’

‘Ah,’ Aradeus said, looking excited, ‘so when you say we will be entering thepresenceof the Lords Celestine, you are referring to beseeching them to manifest within physical forms more aligned with the natural laws of this world?’

‘Exactly. That’s wh—’

‘Do they fuck humans?’ Corrigan asked.

‘What?’

He repeated the question, then decided to answer it himself by applying the sort of classical principles of logic that no doubt occupied the thoughts of ancient philosophers. ‘You said they liked to “interfere” in the affairs of Mortals. Since they already have angelics and the various orders of Glorians to do most of their interfering for them, the only human activity worth involving themselves in first-hand would be getting in a little rumpy-pumpy.’ Corrigan’s inferences took on a pedantic tone as he completed his soliloquy whilst demonstrating his preferred version of ‘rumpy-pumpy’ upon an imaginary partner. ‘Thus, we may draw two inexorable conclusions from these unassailable deductions. First, the rulers of the Auroral Hierarchy are far less enlightened than their worshippers believe, and second, Cade fucked a Lord Celestine.’

‘What?’ Galass asked, shooting me a look suggesting I was some sort of pervert.

‘What the thunderer suggests seems. . . unlikely,’ said Shame.

‘Is nothing beneath you, Fallen One?’ asked Alice, her voice contemptuous.

‘Void take me!’ I swore. ‘Why are you encouraging this idiot’s nonsense? He’s never spent even five minutes studying Auroral theology because he’s already convinced the centre of the cosmos emanates from his legendarily unimpressive groin!’

Corrigan began wagging his finger at me and singing, ‘Cade fucked a Celestine, Cade fucked a Celestine!’ which promptly sent Temper into an excited hopping frenzy. Getting both halfwits back to work took nearly half an hour, but with far too much time wasted, we finally resumed our sweaty labours constructing the gods-damned pigpen cathedral so I could give the beings I hated almost as much as the Lords Devilish one more chance to smite me.

‘I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a cathedral with neither walls nor roof and which looks poised to collapse at the first gust of wind,’ Aradeus said unhelpfully.

‘A gust I’d be happy to provide,’ Corrigan added as he trudged along the narrow twelve-yard trench to create a hole for the next post. He did this by blasting the earth with an impressively narrow bolt of Tempestoral fury.

‘Dig it again,’ I told him. ‘With your hands.’

Another of the rules for the Ritual of Celestine Invitation– in addition to the work being performed ‘in a state of profound humility’, which meant naked– was that no magic be employed in the construction. Corrigan dropped down to his knees, scooped the earth back into the crater, stomped it down, then began to dig with his hands, shooting me a look that promised a thousand painful acts of retribution. I gestured around, reminding him that he’d have to wait in line when it came time to meting out the punishments he envisioned, foreverybodywas annoyed with the approach I’d chosen for securing a meeting with the twelve Lords Celestine.

‘At least you’re on my side, right?’ I asked Temper.

The kangaroo was the only one of us who was finding the endeavour entertaining. His front paws dug with effortless efficiency, tearing up the twelve-yard-long narrow trenches, which would soon be filled with wine blessed not by any saint or preacher, but by each of us as we expiated ourselves of various sinful thoughts. Every time Temper finished one, he’d leap up into the air with his powerful hind legs, spinning like a dervish, before landing with a thump and beginning on the next.

‘That’s enough,’ I told the kangaroo when he’d finished the twelfth side. ‘You’re all done.’

He stared down at me, head tilted quizzically, then gave an odd little whining sound.

‘You’ve hurt his feelings,’ Corrigan informed me in his annoying ‘told-you-so’ tone, then directed his next remark at the rest of our coven. ‘Not exactly inspiring leadership, if you ask me.’

‘The poor fellow does look sad, Cade,’ Galass said, piling it on.

‘Indeed,’ Aradeus added, ‘our proud comrade does appear deflated.’

‘You have a complaint to register, too?’ I asked Alice when I saw her staring at the kangaroo.

The would-be Paladin Justiciar wouldn’t meet my eye. ‘Perhaps the beast fails to appreciate the motivational value of your constant belittlement.’

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