Genuflect by Tracy Twyman

Author:Tracy Twyman [Twyman, Tracy]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-06-11T07:00:00+00:00

somber tune, right next to the boy holding the trumpet. Against the opposite wall were boys singing dolorously in Latin.

But only Rosenberg wore the liberty cap, Wetzel had the only sun mask, and only Consivia wore the champagne cork hat with the clown make‐up. Also, nobody else wore the lacey black veil that Philippine had been wearing.

However, there were several people in the congregation who were wearing black veils, just not of lace. These others were made of leather with eye slits cut out, just like the one I had seen on the people who slaughtered the bull beneath Stratford House. But there was one change: some of the leather veils were marked with a white waxing crescent moon symbol in front of the mouth. Others were marked with a black waning moon symbol outlined in white.

These must be Leopold’s Butchers, I thought. I wonder why there are two different kinds.

Each of Rosenberg’s friends took their place in front of their corresponding groups of congregants. Leopold stood before the Lions, and Marcia the Soldiers.

Wetzel stood in the middle, in‐between the Soldiers and the Lions. One of the Soldiers grabbed my arm and positioned me in front of the Ravens.

Consivia Springhole went to stand behind the stone altar, and Rosenberg stood to the left of it. It was not the original short and narrow altar that had been displayed in the mithraeum earlier. It was a much larger one of roughly hewn stone, the width of a man’s length when horizontal, and I recognized it from Wikipedia. It was the one from the church next door, St. Stephen Walbrook, famously made to resemble the one in the Dome of the Rock in Jerusalem. The latter was, by tradition, the place where Abraham almost sacrificed his son. It was also said by Jews to be the “Even Ha‐Shitiyah,” the “foundation stone” of the universe, from which creation radiated outward a the beginning of time.

Behind the altar and the priestess was a black curtain, attached to a curtain rod that ran in a circle throughout the room. I hadn’t remembered seeing that last time I was in there, so they must have set it up just before the ritual. All of the informational plaques and other display items I’d seen earlier had been removed.

Consivia began waving her arms about and chanting in Latin, making an invocation of some sort. One of the Ravens pulled the curtain aside, revealing the

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