Read Lucifer's Crown for Free Online

story? Thomas had friends of the intellect, but no friend of the soul. He'd expected to pass through the End Time alone, as always, and to conclude his purpose whether healed or not. And yet, now, he saw that without truth there could be no healing. And without healing he could not fulfill his purpose.
    Sunlight poured over the roof of Temple Manor. Glastonbury Tor and its tower reached heavenward. Tautly, Thomas smiled. Of all things, the Tor made him feel young and vigorous again. If never as young as the angelic maiden, brought to his doorstep by the hand of a merciful God—even though he didn't yet know why.
    Telling himself that one must correct Magnificat before learning Te Deum , he stepped from the tomb into the garden.
* * * *
    "Ellen,” said a silken voice. “Wakey, wakey."
    Ellen Sparrow turned over and kicked at the blanket. The gray air stank of diesel and rubbish. From beneath the window came the mutter of engines, voices, and footsteps. Robin stood at the edge of the bed, staring down at her with those brilliant green eyes she found both compelling and uncanny. Even in the shadows his red hair gleamed. She hadn't heard him open the door.
    "Why are you wearing Vivian's glad rags?” she asked.
    "I thought I'd keep the cloak. It's Scottish wool, after all. It'll remind me of how easily women can be corrupted.” He spread his arms wide, so that the green cloak opened out into a semi-circle like a Romish priest's robe. Gold stitching in elaborate snaky patterns edged the neck and the front opening. Beneath the cloak he was still wearing the posh suit and tie he'd worn last night. He deserved the best. Wearing the cloak, he'd purify it, and no mistake.
    Last night he'd gone away with Vivian, not Ellen. For good reason, she reminded herself. “Did you settle with the cow?"
    "Vivian? She'll not be troubling us any more."
    "She was never one of us, was she?"
    Robin's pink lips curved into a smile, but his eyes remained hard. “No. She served her purpose, though."
    Last night Ellen had been one of the family. She'd waded into the fray alongside Reg, ahead of the others, breaking and kicking. She could still hear the cries of the unbelievers as they ran, and the satisfying smash of her cricket bat against their idols. For an hour, she'd been strong.
    She sat up. Her mouth tasted of acid. “The cleansing went down a treat, right enough."
    "Yes, it did. A pity the constabulary were so quick to respond, but then, they'll learn right from wrong soon enough.” In a swirl of green and gold Robin turned to inspect the CDs stacked on a shelf. He picked up the Mozart Requiem . A spasm of his fingers cracked it like an egg and tossed the broken bits aside. “You don't need this."
    "Calum gave it me."
    "Did he give you these, too?” Robin's forefinger tapped the stack of paperback books piled next to Ellen's special-edition Bible.
    "Yeh. He says I have a good mind."
    Robin's eyes glinted. “Who is the truth, the path, and the light?"
    "You are, Robin. You're the business."
    "I'll tell you what you need to know. If there's anything in a book I haven't taught you, then it's blasphemy. If there's anything in a book I have taught you, then it's redundant. Calum should know better than to muddle his mind and yours with books."
    "Yeh,” Ellen agreed, adding, “Why did he bugger off so sudden-like last night?"
    "He had to get back to his business.” Robin stepped across to the basin. He upended a cup, dribbling brown water, and rapped it smartly against the tap. The cup shattered. His elegant fingertips chose a shard shaped like a leaf-bladed spear. “Ellen, I have work for you to do in Glastonbury."
    "Yeh, anything.” She clawed her hair away from her face. She'd used the last of her shampoo and hadn't the cash to buy more. To buy food, for that matter. Last night Reg had bought her a takeaway curry, all the while grumbling about sods too lazy to work. But she was working, for Robin.
    She'd met him last year, when he saw