“No,” Kriene seethed, “we cannot perform the sacrifices one truck at a time. Azathoth has been promised three hundred souls. It will not receive fifteen or twenty and understand that more are on the way.”
Kriene rolled up to them in a nasty mood. “You did this,” he said to Charley.
Charley shrugged; he didn’t know what Kriene was talking about.
“I am not going to have you shot,” Kriene informed them. “You may have condemned us all to a rather terrible end. I see a certain justice in sharing that end with you, if it comes to that.” He smiled unpleasantly. “If it doesn’t, you two get to share an unpleasant end with each other, yes?”
He rolled back to get a better look at the trucks. The electricians were frantic, but the word was not good. Whatever Charley had done to the coupling from the lead truck, he’d done it well. Susan heard the crack of pistol fire. Kriene’s electricians had failed their chance at redemption.
“Too bad,” she called after him. “You get Azathoth’s attention and then you can’t come through for him.”
Kriene wheeled around on her. He’d had just about enough from both of them. “Perhaps,” he said, “I will change my mind about you.”
A couple of SS men were all too happy to oblige Kriene’s changing moods. A pistol muzzle rammed into Susan’s ear.
“If I might suggest an alternative?” she said quickly. “Azathoth won’t accept fifteen or twenty human sacrifices, but It might accept one—if that one represented perfection.”
Susan felt the Walther pull back from her head slightly as its hammer was cocked. She closed her eyes, waiting for the end.
She opened them to see Kriene hold up his hand. “A moment,” he said. “You know these things? The Summoning protocols of Azathoth?” Kriene was just desperate enough to listen.
“I am the Allies’ leading scholar in the black arts,” she told him. This may have stretched things a bit, she knew.
“If you are their leading scholar, why are you here?”
“Where else would I be?”
Kriene allowed himself a tiny smile. Susan noticed, almost as an afterthought, that she had not yet been shot. She didn’t waste time gloating. “Azathoth is mindless, but not undiscerning. Offer up perfection, you may buy your way out of this.”
“What exactly are you suggesting?”
Susan glanced over at Karel. “How about Nature Boy over there? What’s he done for you lately?”
“Karel?” Kriene barked and barked. He would have slapped his knee but for the hoses in the way. “Karel? Do not be ridiculous. He is closer than a son to me.”
Karel had been chatting up one of the blonde Einsatzgruppe guards when he heard his name on an ill breeze. Instantly, he was lounging by Kriene’s elbow, nodding at her in a petulant way.
“Pop, pop,” he repeated. That just cracked him up.
Kriene patted his arm. “Not to concern yourself,” he assured the youth. “Adults are talking here. Things will work themselves out,” he chuckled. “Trust me.”
Kriene was still chuckling to himself. He waved the SS men away from Susan. “Give us a moment,” he told the disappointed executioners. “Have patience; this will not take long.” He leaned toward Susan in a confidential way. “Let us not be disingenuous, Fräulein. Even if I were to consider such a desperate and outlandish action, it would gain us nothing. For us to do such a thing would require altering the basic spell my sorcerers have been using for the past eight hours.”
“Ask your wizards over there,” she said. “They’ll do it for you. Or, if they don’t know how . . .” She lowered her eyes as if modesty prevented her saying more.
“If you are lying,” Kriene promised, “I will have my wizards send you to the bottom of the Atlantic with one mouthful of air.”
Kriene rolled off to speak with them.
Shrieve frowned at her. “Can you really do that?”
“Do what?” She was busy hyperventilating. “Oh, that? I’m sort of hoping we’ll come up with something before he gets back.”
Karel saw the worry on her face. He smiled the smile of a wicked child with a kitten. He had tales to tell, stories of what his mentor did to people who thwarted his ambitions.
“Put you at the bottom of the ocean?” he laughed. “Maybe after he flays you alive. Maybe I will suggest that to him.” Karel had the insecurity that comes with being the prettiest one in the room. He did not like Susan at all.
“If I were you,” Charley Shrieve suggested, “I’d be thinking about what he’s getting ready to do with you.”