To learn a man’s heart, watch his actions.
—PA ABNER
Keech harkened back to their descent down the Chimney, to the moment they had first seen the sarcophagus. Aside from the squirming, beetle-like creatures on the walls and floor, this section of the Palace had been empty. No Coward, no emaciated figure on the table.
Still poised on the far side of the crater, Coward seemed to pluck the thought straight out of Keech’s mind. Stepping around the sarcophagus, he said with mocking delight, “You children don’t know what you’re seeing; you’re confused and scared. Understandable. It took me much longer than expected to find the Master. When I reached the Source, he was gone, no longer lying on his table. Imagine my surprise!”
“Mister, you sure do got a leaky mouth,” grumbled Sam.
Coward cackled at this—the laughter of a madman. “The Enforcers left the Master to lie on this cold slab, suffering like an animal, for more than two decades. And when he woke, he must have been so lonely. Doomed to walk the prison of his Palace, alone, covered in filth, creating his blessed crows from the blood of his own body.”
Keech’s mind staggered at Coward’s words. The crows were not simple messengers or weapons for the Reverend. They were Rose himself.
Coward continued his lunatic speech. “Alone in this place for years, with only the creatures of the Dead Rift to keep him company. Forever trapped, forever wounded. Till our friend Red Jeffreys awakened him.”
Quinn turned to face Doyle. “What’s he talking about, Ranger?”
When Doyle simply hung his head, Coward cackled again. “He never told you, I see. That his contact with the Prime was the match that lit the bonfire. Poor Jeffreys!”
Keech felt a terrible chill run through his heart. Many months ago, while lying wounded on the trail to Bonfire Crossing, Doyle told the Lost Causes his sorrowful tale of grief. How his youngest child, Eliza, had drowned in the river near their home, and how the girl’s loss had nearly destroyed the man. How he’d taken his daughter’s body from the ground, intending to recover the Char Stone, bring Eliza to the Palace, and reenact Rose’s ritual of eternal life. But to do that, the Ranger had used the Black Verse to break his Oath of Memory, the magical pledge that clouded all notions of the Stone from the Enforcers’ minds.
But with dark magic, there was always a terrible trade. Doyle’s contact with the Underworld had sent a ripple across the Prime, a groundswell of darkness that stirred the Reverend from his slumber.
Coward gestured to the fuming Char Stone resting inside its nook. “Soon the ritual will be complete. And when the Reverend rises in his glory, I alone will be his general! No longer will I cower behind the likes of Ignatio and Ben. I am the one who saved the Master!”
Duck said, “We’re gonna relish bringing you to justice.”
“How will you do that, you silly ragamuffin? The Fang is restoring the Master as we speak, and the Char Stone has reconnected him to the Source of the Prime, renewing his strength, pushing him toward immortality.” As he spoke, Coward climbed partway up the slope of the basin. Keech spotted a rusty chain tied around the man’s waist, an open shackle dangling at one end: the Key of Enoch.
“We will stop you,” Strong Heart said.
Coward laughed. “Do you think I would’ve invited you here if there were the slightest chance of failure? I merely wanted you to join us for this glorious moment, but if you insist on being bad guests, I reckon I’ll ask my old friend here to sweep you all into the pit.” He pointed to the chasm behind them, then with a heavy sneer, he opened his hand and pressed the Devil’s mark. “Get to work, Red.”
A shock of pain cinched Doyle’s features. His eyes filled with madness.
The Lost Causes looked at one another with dread, then Quinn yelled, “Split up!”
The group scattered as Doyle screamed a phrase of the Black Verse, an incantation Keech recognized all too well. “No-ge-phal-ul’-shogg!” It was Stanza XVII, the Invocation to Disrupt Concentrated Energies.
The segment of floor where they’d been standing shattered into a cloud of dust. Rock chunks flew in every direction, peppering the gang with sharp gravel.
Keech and Sam sprinted left, while Strong Heart and Duck headed for the bridge and Quinn hurried toward a nearby tunnel. A creature the size of a barn cat emerged from the shadows. It skittered forward on seven muscled legs, its body covered in white bristles too thick to be hair. The critter snapped at Keech with a fang-filled beak.
Sam skidded to a halt. “What in blazes?”
Walking toward them, Doyle bellowed another foul passage of Black Verse, one that Keech had used days earlier on a buffalo. “Ahthro’don-’u-Ruyon!”
The monster rolled up like an armadillo, and hideous wails escaped its maw. The legs distorted, joints popped, and the beak shattered. Throbbing ridges broke across the creature’s rounded back, and its writhing body inflated like a frog’s throat. The entire transformation took only seconds, but when it was done, the thing was as large as a mule.
Keech grabbed Sam’s hand and yanked him out of the way as the creature leaped. Bone-white barbs tore at Sam’s arm as it flew past. Grimacing, Sam slapped a protective hand over the wound. “We need a plan!”
“Hog-tie!” Keech said at once. In the months they’d been apart, he’d forgotten how smoothly he and Sam could communicate.
Seizing the coil of rope he carried on his shoulder, Sam gripped one end of the line and tossed the other end to Keech. When the distorted beast lunged again, Keech shifted his momentum and tumbled past, throwing a loop over the creature’s torso. Sam whistled for the thing’s attention. As the abomination scurried after him, Sam flipped another loop around its thorny neck and sprang out of the way. The second he regained his feet, Sam shouted, “Pull!”
Tugging from different ends, they yanked the rope. The loops tightened around the creature, bunching up its legs. The beast tipped over, shrieking, and smashed its open maw against the floor.
With Doyle’s creature subdued, Keech turned and saw that the Ranger was tussling with Strong Heart and Duck. More Dead Rift creatures had been altered, but the girls were destroying the monsters with their amulet shards.
Keech saw apprehension tightening Coward’s brow. Good! he thought. Coward had expected the Ranger to make short work of them, but even without their focus powers, the team had plenty of fight left. Perhaps if Doyle could have used his own focus, he could have swept them into the abyss with a whirlwind, but the Dead Rift forced the man to rely on the Black Verse.
Keech pointed at Coward. “He’s our target, Sam. Let’s take him down.”
Leaping into the concavity, they sprinted toward the outlaw. With a terrified grimace, Coward opened his mouth and hacked a blaring cough at them. A sickening energy rippled from his throat.
But Keech slammed into the man’s body in time to avoid the blast. With Sam stumbling behind him, they all pitched down the basin and rolled to the foot of the sarcophagus, where Rose’s body rested. When they crashed to a stop, Sam’s eyes were closed. “Sam!” he shouted, but the boy was senseless. He had taken the entire force of the cough.
Blood poured from Coward’s bald head. His eyes burning hatred and fear, he bawled, “I’ve had enough of you!” He opened his mouth again.
Appearing out of nowhere, Quinn slammed a fist into Coward’s head. The outlaw buckled and dropped like a stone to the floor of the basin.
Keech blinked up at Quinn. “Thanks!”
“You’re welcome,” Quinn said, helping Keech to his feet. “Now let’s help your brother.”
But when the boys turned, they found Sam sitting up against Rose’s table and shaking his head, as if rousing from a hard night’s sleep. Apparently, the outlaw’s spell had been too rushed to be potent. In a slurred voice, Sam asked, “What in heck happened?”
Keech said, “Coward knocked you out, then Quinn saved us both. But there’s no time to dally. Doyle’s still on the attack.”
As Quinn helped Sam to stand, Keech rifled through the unconscious Coward’s pockets. He nearly cried out in victory when he saw two glowing amulet shards. He pulled the fragments free, then reached for the Key around the outlaw’s waist.
A tremendous crash vibrated the Palace, followed by a high-pitched scream.
“That sounded like Duck!” Sam said.
Quinn turned to Keech. “Go help the girls. I’ll fetch the Key.”
Keech tossed one of the amulet pieces to Sam. “Tie this to your palm like so,” he said, wrapping the leather straps of the second charm to his own hand.
As Sam tied the gleaming shard to his palm, he clenched his teeth. “The metal’s freezin’!”
“You’ll get used to it. It destroys anything made by the Prime. Ready?”
Side by side, Keech and Sam sprinted up the basin and emerged to find Doyle down on one knee. His hat lay crumpled on the floor, and blood matted his head. Keech spotted Strong Heart dashing along the edges of the temple, leaping over a fallen boulder. In one hand she gripped a jagged stone, and without slowing, she flung it at Doyle. The Ranger shifted to the side, narrowly avoiding the missile.
Nearby, Duck staggered to her feet. A pile of rubble had been torn out of the Palace wall, and Keech reckoned flying debris must have hit her. Her movement was uneasy and slow, and blood and bruises covered her disoriented face. He rushed across the chamber, calling out her name.
Duck held up a hand to stop him. “I’m okay! Help Strong Heart!”
Skidding to a halt, Keech spun around in time to see Strong Heart dive to the floor with a shout. A blink later, a massive chunk of rubble smashed the place where she’d been running. She tried to regain her feet, but her leg buckled and she tumbled back down to her hands and knees. She was facing off against Doyle and his Black Verse nearly single-handedly, but Keech could see she was on the verge of collapse.
Pointing at the Palace wall, Doyle muttered another incantation. Stones exploded above Strong Heart, showering the girl with dust and pebbles. Then a tremendous crack split the granite, and a slab the size of a house peeled loose from the chamber.
“No!” Quinn’s terrified voice clapped across the Palace. He sprinted past Keech and dashed toward Strong Heart, but Keech could see that he wouldn’t have enough time to drag her to safety. Instead, Quinn flung himself over Strong Heart.
The Ranger’s boulder crashed down, slamming on top of them both. Like the deafening explosion of a whistle bomb, the crash clattered throughout the temple.
Duck and Sam screamed in horror. Keech wanted to scream, too, but the sight paralyzed him.
Then suddenly, Quinn and Strong Heart emerged from the rock, covered in gray dust. Like a pair of ghosts, they stepped out of the rubble, clutching each other’s hands. Wrapped around Quinn’s shoulder was the Key of Enoch. Thanks to the relic, they had passed right through the falling stone untouched.
“I wasn’t sure that’d work!” Quinn muttered.
Before the Lost Causes could celebrate, Edgar Doyle trudged toward them again, his grizzled face a mask of rage. Keech glanced around and realized the Ranger was driving them all toward the chasm at the edge of the room.
Doyle raised his quivering hand. “I’ll have your hides yet, you sniveling brats.”
Keech searched desperately for some kind of weapon, but nothing fell in sight. Truth be told, nothing could stop the mighty Enforcer, nothing save the Black Verse itself, which Keech refused to use.
Then he saw something. A bundle lying near Doyle’s feet. Keech’s mouth dropped open when he realized they did have a weapon.
“Jab at the heart, put the beast on his knees,” he murmured.
Lunging for the Ranger’s satchel, Keech yanked open the bag. With a loud cry, he drew out Eliza’s skull and held it up. “Doyle, stop!”
Snarling, Doyle pointed his finger at Keech. With one dark phrase, the man could incinerate him.
“Remember who you are!” Keech shouted, standing his ground. “Remember who you’ve lost!”
The Ranger’s finger dropped to his side. He appeared to focus on the skull, and when he did, he lurched backward as if he’d been slapped across the face.
“You don’t want to do this! You don’t want to hurt anyone!”
Scowling and shaking, Doyle peered deeply at the skull. He grumbled a single word, a groan that carried throughout the entire temple. “Eliza.”
“That’s right, Ranger. The reason all this started.” Keech stepped closer. “Your grief drove you to do awful things, but I know you remember who you were. Who you are.”
“Stop,” Doyle said, his finger rising toward Keech again.
As the other Lost Causes waited silently, Keech took another careful step forward. “You’re not a monster. You’re our friend.”
Raising his hands, Doyle clawed at his forehead, as if hoping to tear the Devil’s mark from his very flesh.
His heart pounding, Keech continued. “You’re a father who loves his children. Both John and Eliza. That love can be enough to save you.”
Again, Doyle staggered backward. This time his heels stopped inches from the chasm.
Vile cackling echoed in the Palace as Coward stepped over the lip of the basin, holding a hand over his wounded head. On unsteady legs he shuffled across the temple and toward Doyle. “You petulant child,” he said to Keech. “Nothing you say will overcome the Prime!” Stopping beside the Ranger, Coward raised up on his tiptoes and growled at the man’s ear, “Finish them, Red.”
But Doyle didn’t obey. Instead, he dropped his gaze to the floor, as if fiercely concentrating on a single point.
Coward glared at the man. “The Master’s mark is unbreakable! You have no choice!”
Sweat pouring from his pallid face, Doyle plucked the silver charm he carried out of his pocket. “True, Coward, the brand is strong. But not as strong as a father’s love for his children,” he said, then tossed the glowing fragment toward the young riders. Through gritted teeth, the Ranger addressed Keech and Duck. “Your fathers were good men. Some of the finest I ever met. I know they’re proud of you today.”
Confusion and rage twisted Coward’s features as he glared at Doyle. “What are you doing, you fool!” He pressed the Devil’s mark on his palm again.
A single tear streamed down the Ranger’s face, cutting a path through the dust and blood caked on his cheek. With trembling lips, he said to Keech, “Tell my boy I love him. Tell him I never intended to leave him alone. You tell him that, Keech.” Then turning toward the darkness, he murmured, “Papa’s sorry, Eliza.”
Then with a sudden, swift motion, Edgar Doyle scooped up Coward and tumbled sideways, pitching them both over the edge of the chasm. Coward’s scream followed them down the pit and abruptly fell silent.
“Ranger Doyle!” Quinn dashed over to the edge, reaching out with one hand as if to try to save the man.
Except for the incessant murmuring from the Dead Rift, the Palace fell quiet. Wiping away a stream of sudden tears, Keech opened the satchel and gently placed Eliza’s skull back inside. He felt his mouth tremble as the weight of Doyle’s sacrifice bore down on his heart.
Quinn sobbed as he peered down into the abyss. “I know he never meant to hurt anybody. He was a good man. He just got lost.”
“Take your sorrow and turn it into anger,” Strong Heart said. “We still have work to do.”
Drying his eyes, Quinn stooped and picked up the shard. “Then let’s get to it. We’ve got the charms now. All of them.” He tied the fifth piece of silver to his palm.
The Lost Causes gathered in a huddle.
“We’re almost home,” Keech said. “We only need to stop the ritual.”
Together, they shuffled toward the basin, most of them limping. But as soon as the sarcophagus came into view, they stopped in their tracks.
The Reverend Rose was sitting up on the slab.