Prospero Regained Read Online Free PDF Page A

sticks into snakes,” Malagigi corrected. “Making men believe that sticks had turned into snakes—poisonous snakes. So that they died from their own fear. Now that was one of his tricks!”
    Gregor released my hand and clasped it again. He did this twice more before inclining his head toward me and whispering, “No pleasure garden. The silvery light must dispel the illusion. Did I not tell you it was holy?”
    “How did a holy thing come to be in this place?” I whispered back to him.
    Gregor shook his head. “That I cannot fathom. Perhaps Erasmus is right about it being a trick, like the light of an angler fish, held out to lure us in. Though, that Maugris can hold it is a promising sign—he cannot be all wicked and bear such as that. Still, I remain suspicious of his motives.”
    “Who are these people?” Erasmus regarded the three dripping souls of the dead who crouched upon the beach before us.
    “Erasmus! How amazing that it is really you!” The Frenchman threw out his arms. “I would not have thought lust to be your sin. Or are you here with us?”
    The two men tried to embrace, but Erasmus’s hands passed through the other man’s body. Malagigi, on the other hand, was able to touch Erasmus’s enchanted garments. Thus, they were able to give each other an awkward hug.
    “Sacrebleu!” Malagigi cried, repeatedly poking his finger through Erasmus’s face. My brother tried to fend off the immaterial hand and failed. Malagigi poked through both his hand and his swollen nose. “You are still alive! What are you doing here?”
    “I could ask you the same thing,” Erasmus replied. Next to the neatly groomed monk, my brother looked bedraggled, his dark hair, damp with sweat, lanker than usual as it fell across his eyes. His handsome jacket and waistcoat were so muddy that I could hardly make out that they had once been green. “I remember quite clearly that you cleaned up your act with women after your marriage to my sister resulted in you spending a year as a goat or a moose or something…”
    “Boar. Did I not mention having been turned into a boar, only moments ago? Really, Erasmus, you should be more attentive!”
    “Must be the shock of seeing you,” Erasmus replied blithely, his spirits clearly lifting. “I have a living body to worry about, after all.”
    “True. And your nose! It looks awful! No wonder you are distracted. With your nose puffed up like a baguette!”
    “My red badge of courage.” Erasmus tapped his nose and winced. He shot me a withering look. “As I was saying, by the time you lost your head to Madame la Guillotine, you were rather respectable in the passion department. Shouldn’t that have put you in another borough, so to speak?”
    Any remark Malagigi might have made was lost as Gregor strode up and fixed his penetrating gaze upon him. My brother the former pope made an imposing figure with his dark hair flowing upon the shoulders of his crimson robes and the Staff of Darkness in his hand.
    “You said ‘Are you here with us’?” Gregor asked hoarsely. “Who is ‘us’?”
    “The angels,” whispered the woman who sat upon the sand at Malagigi’s feet.
    “But no! The Brotherhood of Hope,” Malagigi corrected the woman quickly. He gave her a smile that was both charming and kind. “We are not angels— pas du tout ! We are fellow travelers hoping to make our way to a better place. Angels are creatures of pure spirit, beings of light whose very presence heralds Heaven. Where they step, the world recalls God’s holiness and rejoices.
    “Even here, in the Uttermost Pit, the footsteps of angels bring blessings. It is said that the King of the Angels, our Lord, once harrowed Hell with the Angelic Host at his side, and that if you can find their footsteps and walk where these blessed ones walked, you can follow them out of Hell, and no demon can touch you while you tread therein. Of course, one must have love in one’s heart to see the footstep of an