Lord of Fire by Gaelen Foley Read Free Book Online Page A

fear, little one, I know the rules. Draco gets first crack at you.” He pulled a flask out of the inside of his robe and uncorked it. “To Draco, Argus, Prospero—Master of Illusion and Lord of Lies,” he said cynically. “No doubt he will enjoy you.”
    Alice stared at the man in shock. “Who?” she blurted out.
    “Why, Lucifer, my dear. Who else?”
    She gulped. Her heart was pounding hard and fast as the ferryman brought them drifting to a halt on a gently sloped landing. It seemed highly imprudent to get out of the boat, yet her fellow passengers were disembarking in high spirits. They tumbled out of the gondola and trekked merrily up the shallow steps carved into the limestone toward a low, rounded door.
    “Come, come, little one. Don’t dawdle!” Orpheus grabbed her wrist and tugged her along with them.
    She winced in distaste when she saw the carving that adorned the arched door—the jolly, gnomelike figure of Priapus, the Celtic fertility god, who wore nothing but a wide grin and a ludicrously outsized erection. Priapus was depicted with his finger laid over his lips, as though binding to secrecy all those who entered this door.
    “He rather looks like me, don’t you think?” Orpheus asked with a chuckle; then a man ahead of them hauled the door open.
    At once, a rush of sound, music, and the low roar of many voices poured out from the subterranean cavern beyond, engulfing them. The music startled her, part plainchant, part war drums, punctuated by the shimmering clash of cymbals and the deep, buzzing drone of exotic Turkish instruments. The smell of frankincense wafted out from the soupy blackness beyond the open door.
    “Come on, blue eyes,” Orpheus said jovially.
    Alice knew it was a foolish idea to follow him into that darkness. She sensed danger here, but knowing that her sister-in-law was somewhere in that darkness, she had to go. Whatever Caro had gotten herself into,
Alice knew it was up to her, as usual, to get her out of it. Keeping her face well shadowed in the depths of her hood, she held tightly to her courage and followed the portly American through the arched door.
    What
Alice saw inside froze her motionless. She could only stare—stricken, amazed. It was a moment she would remember for the rest of her life, clipping her history neatly in two: her naive existence before
Revell Court
, and after; the moment her eyes were opened to the existence of another world, a world of secrets.
    Lucien’s world.
    The smell of frankincense filled her nostrils. Candles burned everywhere amid the serenely dripping stalactites. She struggled for clarity against the shock of the grotesque, orgiastic scene that sprawled out in the vast cavern below her, like a Hieronymous Bosch painting come to life. The mesmerizing music wove its snakelike spell over her, lulling her senses, numbing her astonished mind.
    One thing, at least, was clear, she thought. This was no costume ball.
    “Come on,” Orpheus said eagerly, leading the way down the steps chiseled out of the porous limestone, descending into a vast subterranean cavern that seethed with a throng of robed people who all were facing, as in homage, the huge carving in the limestone of a hideous, fanged dragon. Every scale was intricately carved; the monster was posed in a reptilian crouch. Braziers of red-glowing coals gleamed in the carved hollows of its eyes. The open mouth alone was as tall as a man, and from its black recesses, a bubbling
hot springs flowed into the great cave. The steam from the naturally heated water puffed in spirals through the dragon’s nostrils, as though, at any moment, it might breathe a blast of fire. The
hot springs ran down a shallow four-foot channel into a crystalline pool like the one at
Bath. It was adorned with tiled mosaics and free-standing Corinthian columns that might well have been put there by the ancient Romans.
    Alice had never seen so much naked flesh in her life. Perhaps it was due to her passion for art,