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Chapter 208 Where Demons Fear To Tread
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... tly scents. The firmament above was without light, gray and moonless. The entire parsonage reeked of pure myrrh and burning spices—but the good kind.
The smoking sage to ward off the unwanted wights. The absinthe to absolve wandering souls. And the incense to host proper an ambience in which the Holy Ones might dwell. In one of the sanctuaries on this Vicar's lot, Israfel and his friends had just materialized out of thin air, before a clergyman.
"Welcome to the Martyr's cathedral ...
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