Tocho jumped as Ravenwood's physical body jerked suddenly and lurched from the floor. Her back arched upward, then relaxed.

With panic in his eyes, he turned to Tlacatecolotl. "Jesus! What the h.e.l.l was that? Is she all right?"

Tlacatecolotl gave a knowing nod. "She has reached the mid-point of the eighth level."

"What does that mean?"

"It means the spirit guides will go no further. At the bottom of the eighth level she will find the Gate to Mitnal, the ninth and final level, the realm of the dead, ruled by Hunhau, the Lord of the Demons."

Tocho shook his head slowly. "I never should have brought her here."

"You think you had a choice?"

The orbs now morphed together into a single unit as they telepathically communicated to Ravenwood.

Your higher self will guide you now. Trust it. When you return, we will come to guide you back to your world.

The orb pulsated brightly as she heard the final words of her mystical spirit guides: Ka xi'ik teech utsil. Then they were gone.

She a.s.sumed they had wished her 'good luck'.

CHAPTER 57.

Tortured screams of human souls echoed throughout the darkness as Ravenwood made her final descent. She knew her own soul could be devoured at any moment by any one of the endless streams of demonic figures swirling around her. She was caught in the current of a virtual whirlwind of terror, the demons whipping around her, taunting her, reaching for her, their hideous laughter rising to shattering crescendos. It was a nightmare beyond anything she had imagined and she was locked in with no way out, no way back to the light, without the ayahuasca spirits to guide her.

Then, in the midst of it all, she saw something else, something emerging from out of a billowing gray haze. The amorphous shape was twisting, curling in on itself like a thick smoke. Slowly, it morphed into a living likeness of her own mother.

Ravenwood stared in shock at the familiar figure. The woman was holding a grotesquely deformed newborn baby girl to her naked breast. The infant was covered in blood, mucus dripping from its creamy, scaly skin. The thing's umbilical cord whipped back and forth like the tail of an angry serpent.

This is your precious baby.

It was her mother's voice speaking tenderly, lovingly.

Here, my dear, would you like to hold her for a while?

Ravenwood recoiled as the mother image thrust the disgusting thing toward her. The infant's large eyes flew open, its tiny hands reached out. It squeeled. Momma...

Ravenwood turned away, horrified. When she looked again, she saw the baby was beautiful, exactly as she had always pictured it. My baby.

Instinctively, she reached out, longing to hold the precious child in her own arms. Then she stopped short as the distant voice of her higher self told her it wasn't real. She withdrew, reluctantly, hesitating. But the child she'd so desperately wanted, lost at birth, was here, now, in front of herwithin arm's reach. Her maternal instinct struggled against her better judgment. Her soul cried out. Dear G.o.d! Don't do this to me!

Tocho took the moist cloth and wiped away the tears streaming down Ravenwood's face. He turned to Tlacatecolotl. "Can't we stop this? She's suffering, for G.o.d's sake. Look at her!"

The shaman shook his head. "There is no way to bring her back. She understood that."

"But"

Tlacatecolotl took Tocho's hand and placed it on Ravenwood's chest. "The heart of a warrior," he said. "Never underestimate it." He looked Tocho in the eyes. "Especially this one."

Ignoring the distant warning from her higher self, Ravenwood reached out to receive the child. It let out a piercing screech the instant she touched it. Squirming and wriggling around madly, it morphed into a repulsive creature, a ganglion, with a dozen scaly tentacles twitching and thrashing about. Ravenwood quickly released the creature and it flew back into the arms of the mother image.

The mother image laughed and bellowed. "It hates you! Your own child hates you!" The words came spitting out of her mouth with a vicious sting and a perverse sense of glee.

An intense emotional pain ripped through Ravenwood's heart. But it also caused her higher self to light up and take hold of the situation.

Remember, they feed on your fear. Release it. Trust in yourself. Embrace the love you have for that child you never knew. That love is your shield. Remember what you have learned over the years. This is why you are here. Your knowledge is your weapon. Use it now.

Ravenwood absorbed the guidance. A surge of empowerment took over and the renewed connection to her higher self was causing something else to happen. A faint light was forming, boring a tunnel through the immense darkness.

Peering into it, she thought she saw something, something that triggered a brief jolt of fear. The light momentarily dimmed in response to her reaction. She pushed back against the fear, the light brightened, and she looked once more. In the distance, at the end of the tunnel, she could see itthe Gate.

CHAPTER 58.

The infamous Gate looked much as she had expected from her studies and from the stories she had heard as a child. It was a nearly invisible translucent veil, undulating like a mirage that seemed to stretch upward and downward, right and left, without end. This was the Gate that separated the rest of the Underworldand all other worlds and realms within worldsfrom the Ninth Level, the cavernous catacombs of the most destructive demonic forces, the lair of the most treacherous creatures, the very heart and soul of Baphomet, and the ancient origins of the purest evil. This is what she had risked her life, her sanity, her soul, to see.

Though chilled with an uneasy excitement and a heightened sense of apprehension, she dared to get closer. She had to see for certain whatif anythingmight be waiting just on the other side of the Gate.

With a great deal of caution, she entered the tunnel of light. Oddly, the light seemed to have substance. Moving through it was like pushing through invisible Jell-O.

As she neared the end of the tunnel, her senses were slammed by a powerful noise, a roaring, howling din of voices uttering unrecognizable words in a confusion of ancient languages. The chaotic clamor blasted against her with the unrelenting pressure of a gale-force wind and catapulted her backward.

Wincing against the onslaught, she managed to look up and was shocked to find herself staring into the faces of the Offspring of the Old Ones. She froze, fearing for her life.

CHAPTER 59.

Ravenwood recognized portions of the writhing, grotesquely distorted bodies of the Offspring. They bore uncanny resemblances to the configurations of their sigils. She thought she had prepared well for this moment but the reality of it nearly severed the tenuous thread connecting her to her higher self. She knew that thread was struggling against the unbearable weight of impending insanity.

The Offspring were just behind the veil. They threw themselves at it with wild abandon, screaming, screeching, howling, lunging against it, pressing into the resilient, invisible barrier, the impressions of their forms briefly appearing as if molded into it, then springing back again. The veil stretched, pulled, barely resisting the chaotic a.s.sault. h.e.l.l was bursting at the seams.

Cowl's hand twitched as the empty, silent cavern of his subconscious was suddenly shaken by the angry growl of Crowley's voice.

"d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l," the voice cursed.

Cowl was confused. "What is it?"

"Something's wrong."

"What?"

"A disturbance in the order of things. I can feel it."

"What kind of disturbance? What things? I don't understand"

"That's right," came Crowley's retort. His tone was irate and condescending. "You don't understand. You can't understand. But I feel it. G.o.d d.a.m.n it to h.e.l.l, I can feel it."

Ravenwood stood frozen as she watched the frenzied, unrelenting attack upon the Gate. It seemed ready to give way to the a.s.sault at any moment. Was she the cause of this? Had she gone too far? Dear G.o.d, what have I done? Any moment now, the veil would be ripped open, torn to shreds by the mad forces of a h.e.l.l gone berserk. She braced for the onslaught. There was no escape. It was as good as over and the world she'd hoped to save was about to suffer a horror beyond all comprehension.

Helpless and alone, she could feel her consciousness fading, drifting. As the darkness slowly crept into her soul, squeezing out the last remnants of light, a series of images pa.s.sed through her mind: Tocho... Man, I don't know. I mean, you'd be risking your life. I don't think you know what you'd be getting yourself into. The Owl Man... Journeying to the Underworld is something few have done. Some have not returned. That is, they returned but as an empty sh.e.l.l, their consciousness trapped in a void from which it can never escape. Lieutenant Kane... What about you? Got any kids? The drawings of the sigils... Kutulu is special among the offspring. He is the most powerful of all the offspring because he holds within him all the magick and power that the other offspring can use against the humans here in the world of the living.

That final thought ignited a tiny spark.

She remembered.

Kutulu.

These demons can't escape their captivity without the ninth member, the sleeping demon, Kutulu.

She remembered, only a magician in possession of The Keys Of The Gatekeeper could awaken and summon the sleeping demon.

The spark grew brighter.

Cowl may, indeed, have somehow acquired the mysterious book but if he's still in a coma then he hasn't used it yet. Besides, she reasoned, if he had used it, the demons would already be free. Clearly, they're not. The Gate still holds. There's still a chance to finish this.

As the inner light of her consciousness returned, the frantic activity of the demons suddenly subsided to a din of dull grumblings, confused cacklings, their contorted faces twisting into mystified expressions. They seemed confounded, bewildered by her sudden lack of fear.

With a sudden jolt of confidence, Ravenwood turned away from the Gate and retreated back into the tunnel of light, leaving the hideous things behind, stewing in their state of confusion.

She knew, now, it was all real. Not a shred of doubt remained. Now she could do what had to be done: Rye Cowl had to be destroyed.

On the floor of Tlacatecolotl's hut, Ravenwood squirmed, her eyes fluttered open. Her voice was weak. "Tocho? Am I?"

Tocho knelt beside her. "Ro! You're all right! Man, I was... Ro?"

Ravenwood's eyelids fluttered again and slowly closed.

Tocho grabbed her by the shoulders and gave her a gentle shake. "Ro?" She didn't respond. He shook her again. Still nothing. He cast a worried look at the shaman.

Tlacatecolotl nodded. "I have seen this happen before with those who have attempted to reach the lowest levels of the Underworld."

He told Tocho it was a kind of comatose state caused by the vibrational differences between this world and the other dimensions but also from the body's reaction to the special formula that she ingestedat her own request, he was quick to add.

"Jesus Christ. You should have warned us this could happen."

"Would it have made a difference?"

"What?"

"Don't worry, my friend. She will be all right, but..." He left the sentence hanging.

"But...?"

"But you might be here a bit longer than you planned."

"What do you mean a bit longer? How long?"

"I have seen this last for several days. A week at most."

Tocho's eyes grew wide. "A week? But we've only got two days. We've all only got two days!"

Pastor Pete sat slumped in his wheelchair, a gray woolen blanket draped over his lap. Its sagging folds mimicked the drooping skin under the old pastor's tired eyes. They were moist, empty, staring at nothing. In his wrinkled hands an unopened Bible was slowlyalmost imperceptiblyslipping from his trembling grasp. There were no more prayers to be prayed. Hope ceased to exist.

The Bible dropped to the carpet with a m.u.f.fled thump. It tumbled open to the book of Revelation. It was nearly over.

The Devil was coming.

CHAPTER 60.