Black Ceremonies by Charles Black, David A. Riley Page B

tentacles protruded from his hideous face. Imagine it, Father. Just imagine it!”
    Abruptly his mood changed. He loosed his grip and stepped back. He looked at me slyly. “You don’t believe me, do you?” Suddenly, he reached for his bag and rummaged around in it. After a moment he pulled out a bundle wrapped in a piece of tattered yellow cloth. “Well, just you take a look at this then,” he said, unwrapping the bundle to reveal an ostentatious piece of jewellery.
    It was a crown of sorts, tall, and bejewelled with a mixture of pearls and diamonds, and a jade figure of some loathsome octopoid idol.
    I had never seen the like before, and it occurred to me that it would take great skill to wear it balanced upon the head.
    “Here,” my guest said, “you’re a priest – you try it on.” Reluctantly, I tried to do so, and I could not get it to sit right. It was as if it had been specially designed for a particular person, an individual with a most peculiarly shaped head indeed.
    “You see?” Crawford said eagerly.
    “It’s an unusual piece, I’ll admit.” But it did not mean his story was true. Yet, on the other hand, where else could he have got it from?
    I studied the crown closely. I am no expert, but it certainly appeared to me that it was of great value. But as I did so, I shuddered. I suddenly felt quite repelled by the item. I knew without question that it was unwholesome, and I quickly handed it back.
    “It is an evil thing, my son,” I told him. “You would do well to be rid of it.” I was quite relieved when Crawford covered it again, and returned it to his haversack. He then sat down again and continued his tale.
    “It was plain that there was a ceremony going on. But it weren’t orderly, like your Catholic ceremonies. No sir, Father, it was a racket of grunting and croaking, squawking, groaning, howling, screeching, shrieking, yelping and baying. A right awful din that no man should have to hear. Yet, I still hear it, when they are close.”
    Crawford paused in his narration to listen. “They are coming for me. They are coming for me!”
    “Calm down, my son. No one can take you from God’s holy house. You are safe here.”
    Eventually he grew calmer and I asked him to recommence his account of what happened on that strange South Sea island.
    “When they spotted us, they fell silent. Then a group of them came to meet us. And we were escorted into the heart of this weird gathering.
    “I said that the maidens of the first island could not speak English. But they sure could communicate with this bunch. We watched, and they bowed full length on the ground before these Atlantis folk, or whatever they were. Reluctantly, we knew we better do likewise.”
    “Atlanteans,” I said.
    “Eh?” Crawford frowned at the unfamiliar word.
    “If this was indeed Atlantis – and that name will suffice for want of another – they would be Atlanteans,” I explained.
    “Oh, right. Well, whatever they were, the priest-king motioned for us to rise, and then beckoned my Nia forward. Already shocked by what we had seen, we were in for a further surprise when we realised what was in store for us.
    “Obediently she went to him, then knelt before him. Again she was commanded to rise. And then this priest or king, whatever he was, reached out and caressed her with his arm. It moved like a snake, like it had no bones! First it touched her face, and then her body. I knew what their priest-king intended. Can you believe the disgust I felt, Father?”
    He did not wait for me to reply.
    “Well, it got lots worse once I saw that Nia was more than willing to partner this freakish thing. Around us, the other women were finding partners among the monstrous creatures, and it was obvious that they expected us to do likewise, for there were females among this ugly race.
    “Well, there was no way I was willingly going to lie down with any of them heathens. And one look at my companions told me they were in