The Hole

31

“Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.”

Janet’s voice faltered, her throat unable to take any more wounding, but Bill made up for it, bellowing out the chant at the top of his voice.

It feels like we’re in church. And in a way, maybe we are.

More rock fell from the roof. The iron door collapsed off its hinges as the rock supporting it fell away, and a sudden slip of rock left their position in the circle open, giving them a clear view to the pit outside. Where before the pit had been filled with smoke and flame, now it was a rolling mass of tissue; the same material Janet was coming to know so well. It swayed and swelled, like a heavy sea. A dome formed in the center, rising up and taking shape, a tall figure, ten, twelve, sixteen feet tall, red wings sprouting from the back and unfolding until the wingtips touched the shaking walls on either side of the pit. Eyes the size of plates stared at them.

Weemean.

Janet had one last look at the journal, making sure she remembered the final phrase, the last act of the binding ritual.

“I love you,” she said to Bill. Then, with the last of her voice, called out, “Dhumna Ort!”

The last thing she saw was the demon collapse in on itself. Bill pulled her close as the roof fell in on them, and everything went away.