“Of course,” his companion said as he held up his own hand. The man was a sickly, pale color, almost ivory. His flesh consisted of maggots that wriggled obscenely on his bones. “I think I broke a couple of nails, though. I’d hate to break any more.”
They laughed together as the child’s head suddenly showed and the midwife grasped it.
“Be very careful,” the first creature said, “We need—”
Suddenly the music died.
“That’s not supposed to happen,” the maggot-infested man said warily. The humans who were now waking up were bunched at the foot of the stairs, blocking the only route of escape.
The baby’s scream broke their temporary paralysis. The monsters looked at each other, understanding that the only way to make it from the basement alive was to use the child as a hostage. The carrot-skinned man darted toward the baby, his claws poised to sever the cord attaching the infant to its mother’s body.
Neither creature reached the baby. A swarm of children engulfed them and dragged them down, paying them back in blood for the pain and the nightmares they had caused.
A mile away, a young actress named Kohrin-dahr reached up and caressed the sides of her lover’s face. The man moved over her, leaning down to cover her mouth greedily with his own. Their hearts thundered in synch and their bodies strained in passion. She was dimly aware of the hard wood of the stage beneath her bare form and the laughs and applause of an audience, but she did not care. She was with the most beautiful man she had ever seen, a stagehand she had barely noticed until this night. The storm’s violent sounds spurred on her passion as she raked at his sides.
The music that had been their accompaniment suddenly ended. For the first time, the young actress saw the true nature of the monstrosity above her. Shocked and repulsed, she bucked wildly, trying desperately to free her body, but the creature held on tightly, its own pleasure increased by her squirming. She struck out blindly, her fingers curled into claws, and dug her hands into the golden, honey-combed chambers of his soft, glowing eyes. A rain of ichor splattered her naked body as the creature rose, screaming in pain. It was stunned by the sudden onslaught of darkness. She scrambled back, detaching herself from the monster. The actress grabbed at the first object that came into range, a heavy lamp that had not been mounted.
Kohrin-dahr smashed at the creature’s buglike head, driving it to its knees. She struck it again and again until she was covered in its blood and the monstrosity finally stopped moving. Then she looked out into the theater and saw close to a dozen monsters watching her in surprise. Before any of them could vault toward her, the actress turned and ran.
In the glass counting house of the financial district, the rainbow woman had come to make a withdrawal of pain and suffering, torment and blood. She had not bothered to disguise her appearance; the rapidly changing colors of her flesh always proved to be an ample enticement to men of any species—along with her stunning beauty and magnificently proportioned body.
“Gentlemen,” she said to the entourage that had followed her through the streets and broken open the doors to this building, simply because it had intrigued her. “I would like each of you to find something to cut with, preferably a dull knife. When each of you has found such an object, I wish for you to line up against that far wall.”
Within minutes, her demands were met and each of the men stood ready with a blade.
With a lascivious grin she said, “Tonight you will be my paladins, my protectors, and more. I will share with you sensual delights the likes of which you have never imagined. In return, you will murder the women you love and bring back their heads. To show that I have your complete loyalty, I wish for a small display. Each of you will cut off one of your fingers. I’ll tell you which one. You will scream with pain, give your suffering to me. Is that understood?”
The men did as she requested. Soon each of them was drenched in agony and blood. The rainbow woman had absorbed every moment of their pain and felt overwhelmed by the sensations. She smiled. “Now go and bring me the heads of your loved ones. Then I will show you pleasure and pain as you have never imagined it, never dreamt—”
Outside, as the rain beat even harder, Bellophat’s music suddenly fell away. The rainbow woman looked back at her perfect soldiers, who now advanced on her, blades ready. She screamed as they fell upon her, hacking away at her until the rainbow swirl of colors surging throughout her body coalesced into a nightmare black.
Lord Sixx and his entourage traced the route they had planned through the docks to the waterfront temple of Sharess, the goddess of lust, free love, and sensual fulfillment. The building was elegantly designed, with dark marble columns, jutting spires, and crystalline statues, many of which had been shattered. Lord Sixx passed the sentries he had posted around the temple’s perimeter and paused on the spacious veranda outside the main doors.
“Is anyone inside?” Sixx asked. “Any humans?”
“Not anymore,” his inhuman guard replied. “We cleaned it out when Bellophat’s music began. There is one we spared, though. I thought you might want to have a look at him.”
Vizier Punjor Djenispool was brought out, his hands tied, a gag stuffed in his mouth. His cold, unreadable eyes made Lord Sixx uneasy.
“He is the son of the pasha,” Sixx said, “next in line to rule this city. I’ve had my eye on him for some time. Keep him safe this night. After the festival I may wish for some time alone with him.”
The guardsman understood. Lord Sixx would take the man’s memories and replace him with one of the Night Parade’s own, securing Calimport as a safe haven for another thirty or forty years. As he was led away, the flesh around Djenispool’s eyes crinkled as the man smiled broadly. The sight would have bothered Lord Sixx more if it had not been for his excitement over the event that was about to take place.
“Perhaps he thinks his goddess will rescue him,” Imperator Zeal said with a smirk. A few of the creatures smiled with him.
Lord Sixx turned slightly. “Did anyone ask for your pathetic display of humor, Zeal?”
“No, milord,” the fiery-haired man said stiffly. Those who had joined in his amusement became expressionless.
“Personally, I do not wish to suffer it,” Sixx said. “It’s bad enough that I must endure the company of imbeciles like you simply because the Draw favored you in infancy.” He turned to the guards. “Call out the acolytes,” Sixx said. “I want to see the children.”
One of the guardsmen nodded. Sixx waited with impatience as footfalls sounded from within the temple, along with the screams of human infants. Finally a string of hooded women carrying babies emerged from the building. They gathered in a circle around the many-eyed man.
“Only a dozen?” Sixx asked.
“The evening is still young,” one of the women said, her black robe adorned with a long slash of crimson, marking her as their leader. Within the shadows of her hood Lord Sixx saw her withered face, her flesh drawn tightly to her skull. “Your followers will bring more to us before dawn arrives. Or do you have so little faith in their abilities?”
Faith is not an issue, he thought, still disturbed by the premature end of Bellophat’s music. The rain engulfing the city was driving and steady, soothing in its own way, but lacking the sweet complexities of Bellophat’s creations. A figure approached in the rain, carrying the thirteenth child for the night. Suddenly a wad of darkness appeared and expanded before the monster carrying the human baby. It pulled itself into the form of one of the acolytes and reached with ancient hands for the child. The creature carrying the baby had slaughtered nine people for this child and was reluctant to give it away. It looked in Lord Sixx’s direction and saw the dark man nod. The creature surrendered the baby and retreated into the night in search of others. The new acolyte took her place in the widening circle.