Belly of the Beast

Chapter 25

Gripping the armrests of the luxury, leather chair, I watched through the airplane window as Scooby brought us softly down on the runway. The snow dusting the tarmac at Chicago's jetport only added to my frazzled nerves, and being sympathetic to my needs, Vincent ferried me to the nearest coffee shop. He knew a protein shake wouldn't do it.

The ride to the convent progressed uneventfully, although Vincent and I kept our gazes focused outside the limousine. It was almost romantic how I felt his tension and he felt mine. Inside the church, my shoulders relaxed a little, and we were given hot chocolate; another beverage I was supposed to be avoiding. But neither of us dared turn down the hospitality of a nun.

As soon as we settled-in to wait for Petula, I set my drink down and took Vincent's hand. The sparsely furnished room had not changed from the last time we visited, which wasn't that long ago. How many visitors did the convent get in a year?

"Are you nervous?" Vincent's question caught me by surprise, and I blinked down at my hand where I was playing with the diamond on my finger.

"A little."

"About what, specifically?"

"About her not knowing anything. But also about her knowing the ugly truth. Some things you just don't want to know are real."

"I started telling myself that the day my father went missing." His fingers gently circled my hand for a while, until we both noticed Petula standing in the doorway. How long had she been there?

"Good afternoon, Reese. Vincent." She effortlessly glided into the room, despite the fact she was probably pushing eighty and her dress dragged the ground.

We both stood up politely, and Vincent never let go of my hand. Petula noticed and smiled gently as she waved for us to sit.

"Thank you for seeing us on such short notice," Vincent said.

"I believe that is how you greeted me the last time we met. I am happy to know I am someone you like dropping in on." Petula had barely sat down when a young girl scuttled into the room and set a cup of hot tea in front of her.

"Thank you, Jewel." Petula used sign language to speak with the girl, who bowed shyly and hurried away after a lightning fast acknowledgement of me and Vincent. "Jewel is the niece of Sister Helen. Her mother passed suddenly, and she is living on the premises temporarily."

"That's terrible about her mother," I said, feeling a kinship with the girl.

"Yes, it is. Although, Jewel was living in deplorable conditions. She was malnourished and under-educated. We are still breaking through the layers. So, you said on the phone you needed my expertise on something. I assume you haven't come to talk about God."

"No, but we've come to talk about someone who was believed to be long dead," Vincent said. "Zenthophelius."

"Oh?" Petula leaned over her teacup and lifted the bag out, setting it on the saucer. "Well, I am hardly an expert on the subject of the necromancer. The lore has been twisted over the years. But I will help you if I can."

With a glance in my direction, Vincent relinquished the floor to me, and I took a quick sip of my hot chocolate, which was now lukewarm. "I guess I should start by telling you that Vincent and I have met him."

Petula had just brought her cup to her lips, and she hesitated while she processed my statement. "Now, that is interesting." Without drinking, she set the cup back down and clasped her hands in her lap. "Tell me about this meeting."

I gave Petula the condensed version of everything that led up to the incident at the church; the cube, the fevers, the maze at Dmitry's home. And the fact that the gollums wanted to use Hadria as a last resort. I purposefully left out my pregnancy, since there was no sense giving her something else to worry about.