Sarwat Chadda - Billi SanGreal 02 - Dark Goddess Read Online Free Page B
Author: Unknown
croissant had been gently torn open, and butter lay, molten and puddled, within it.
"
Voilà
." Lance leaned against the table, waiting. "Eat, please."
Billi took a bite and the croissant nearly dissolved in her mouth.
"Wow," she whispered.
He shrugged like it was nothing; excellence came easily to him. Then he started to set up another meal on a tray: breakfast for Vasilisa.
Billi glanced toward the door and the stairs. The girl felt like an uninvited houseguest, an intruder. Why? She didn't mean anything to Billi, so what was it about her that made Billi so uncomfortable? She should be glad: if Vasilisa was an Oracle, she'd strengthen the Order. But Billi wasn't glad, and couldn't understand why.
"How is she?"
"Still asleep." Lance glanced up at the clock over the doorway. It was almost half past six. "I will leave some food; you will take it later?"
Billi nodded and popped the last of the croissant into her mouth as she stood. The conclave was starting.
Billi ran across the courtyard. God didn't like to be kept waiting. Neither did her dad.
Billi rushed across the ice-covered Temple courtyard in her tanned army greatcoat that, despite her height, swept her ankles. Collar up, chin down, she blinked as the frosty breeze stung her eyes. The Temple Church was hidden behind towers of scaffolding and sheets of heavy-duty plastic. The repairs were moving slowly—you didn't rush on a nine-hundred-year-old building. The stained-glass windows were all boarded up, and it would be another year before they could be replaced.
She paused by the side door, her hand touching the cold stone. The official story was that a forgotten UXB—an unexploded bomb—had gone off in the catacombs. The building had been bombed during the Second World War, so it was possible that one of the devices had somehow been buried, and sat silent and dormant for all these years until a freak event set it off.
It was logical. It had a basis in reality. It was a lie.
The truth had a basis in another reality. Had she really met the devil here? Had he really unleashed his celestial
numina
, his supernatural light, almost blinding her and nearly destroying Temple Church?
Like the thrones of ancient kings, nine high-backed chairs had been arranged in an irregular circle between the effigies of the ancient patrons lying in stone on the floor.
Elaine and Father Rowland sat apart on smaller stools, observing, but not belonging.
The Knights Templar. Arthur, the Templar Master, looked tired and was turning his wedding ring around, never a good sign. Gwaine sat opposite, in his usual position of conflict. In the gloomy light his wrinkles looked like deep crevasses, and his eyes were lost in the pits under his lined brow. Gareth, Bors, and Mordred watched impassively. Billi looked at the
Sieges Perilous
—two chairs draped in black cloth, commemorating the Order's dead. Kay and now Pelleas. Percy's old position, marshal I, was now Lance's.
Billi kept her head low as she crossed the circle to her seat between Mordred and Bors. Mordred gave her a sympathetic smile as she passed. The church was unheated, and Billi's breath puffed out in a great white cloud as she took her seat.
"Now that we're all here, maybe we can get down to business," Arthur said. He stood up and went to the center of the round. "Pelleas's death and the girl: Vasilisa Bulgakov." He lowered his head.
"Father Rowland will lead a requiem Mass for Pelleas tomorrow night. Attendance, it goes without saying, is mandatory." He beckoned Elaine forward. "Tell us what you know."
Elaine came to the edge of the circle. "While you've all been catching up on your beauty sleep, I did some sniffing around. Vasilisa and her family came to England four years ago, when she was five. They're originally from Russia—from Karelia. It's up north on the border with Finland."
"That's important?" asked Gwaine.
"It's pretty wild. Lots of wolves." Elaine opened up her folder and handed out a sheet of
"
Voilà
." Lance leaned against the table, waiting. "Eat, please."
Billi took a bite and the croissant nearly dissolved in her mouth.
"Wow," she whispered.
He shrugged like it was nothing; excellence came easily to him. Then he started to set up another meal on a tray: breakfast for Vasilisa.
Billi glanced toward the door and the stairs. The girl felt like an uninvited houseguest, an intruder. Why? She didn't mean anything to Billi, so what was it about her that made Billi so uncomfortable? She should be glad: if Vasilisa was an Oracle, she'd strengthen the Order. But Billi wasn't glad, and couldn't understand why.
"How is she?"
"Still asleep." Lance glanced up at the clock over the doorway. It was almost half past six. "I will leave some food; you will take it later?"
Billi nodded and popped the last of the croissant into her mouth as she stood. The conclave was starting.
Billi ran across the courtyard. God didn't like to be kept waiting. Neither did her dad.
Billi rushed across the ice-covered Temple courtyard in her tanned army greatcoat that, despite her height, swept her ankles. Collar up, chin down, she blinked as the frosty breeze stung her eyes. The Temple Church was hidden behind towers of scaffolding and sheets of heavy-duty plastic. The repairs were moving slowly—you didn't rush on a nine-hundred-year-old building. The stained-glass windows were all boarded up, and it would be another year before they could be replaced.
She paused by the side door, her hand touching the cold stone. The official story was that a forgotten UXB—an unexploded bomb—had gone off in the catacombs. The building had been bombed during the Second World War, so it was possible that one of the devices had somehow been buried, and sat silent and dormant for all these years until a freak event set it off.
It was logical. It had a basis in reality. It was a lie.
The truth had a basis in another reality. Had she really met the devil here? Had he really unleashed his celestial
numina
, his supernatural light, almost blinding her and nearly destroying Temple Church?
Like the thrones of ancient kings, nine high-backed chairs had been arranged in an irregular circle between the effigies of the ancient patrons lying in stone on the floor.
Elaine and Father Rowland sat apart on smaller stools, observing, but not belonging.
The Knights Templar. Arthur, the Templar Master, looked tired and was turning his wedding ring around, never a good sign. Gwaine sat opposite, in his usual position of conflict. In the gloomy light his wrinkles looked like deep crevasses, and his eyes were lost in the pits under his lined brow. Gareth, Bors, and Mordred watched impassively. Billi looked at the
Sieges Perilous
—two chairs draped in black cloth, commemorating the Order's dead. Kay and now Pelleas. Percy's old position, marshal I, was now Lance's.
Billi kept her head low as she crossed the circle to her seat between Mordred and Bors. Mordred gave her a sympathetic smile as she passed. The church was unheated, and Billi's breath puffed out in a great white cloud as she took her seat.
"Now that we're all here, maybe we can get down to business," Arthur said. He stood up and went to the center of the round. "Pelleas's death and the girl: Vasilisa Bulgakov." He lowered his head.
"Father Rowland will lead a requiem Mass for Pelleas tomorrow night. Attendance, it goes without saying, is mandatory." He beckoned Elaine forward. "Tell us what you know."
Elaine came to the edge of the circle. "While you've all been catching up on your beauty sleep, I did some sniffing around. Vasilisa and her family came to England four years ago, when she was five. They're originally from Russia—from Karelia. It's up north on the border with Finland."
"That's important?" asked Gwaine.
"It's pretty wild. Lots of wolves." Elaine opened up her folder and handed out a sheet of
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