XXXV
When Moss arrived at The Cistern, it was to a trail of blood outside the front entrance, leading into the stadium.
“Mynthia!” he cried. “Mynthia! Where are you?”
He flew upward frantically and entered the stadium through the open roof.
And then he saw her.
Mynthia was in the center of the stage, but she hung lifeless, impaled by a flagpole. The pole had entered through her neck, and its jagged end stuck out on the other side of her head. The pole was propped up against the wall, and she dangled in the wind like a rag doll, the rain dripping off her wings and pooling on the floor.
“No!” Moss screamed.
Then he noticed that the trail of blood continued up to the stage.
A message was written in blood across the stage floor.
Moss staggered back and fainted as he read it:
I’m back
