* * * * *
"A werewolf?!" I exclaimed (with great dubiousness): "Working for the Vatican as a priest?"
"We were better known in Italy as the Benandanti," Father Wisemann explained: "But, after the eighth century conversion of some our predecessors (by St. Hubert of Liege,* himself), we initially renamed ourselves 'I Domini Canes.' The Hounds of God! And, ever since then, our primary anatgonists have been the worshippers of the Melissae."
"In 1865, that included the original Sisterhood Of Bellona in New Orleans. Headed by the snake-demoness Meleusina! The Benandanti thought we had destroyed her, then. But, obviously, we were mistaken. Because, now, she has not only reorganized the cult. She's enlarged it, as well! Up to and including the recruitment of semi-demonized Amazons from Southeast Asia."
"You mean, you knew those things were down there, all this time?" Sir Anthony protested (with a most accusing glare).
"There's been a gradually increasing number of humanoid reptile sightings spreading northward from the Deep South. And, some of them might have been _smuggled_ northward, via Mississippi river boat, since the turn of the century. Yet, it wasn't until I caught the scent of them, at the top of the shaft, that my suspicions of their dwelling, in Lake Yo-Tel-T'til, were confirmed. Needless to say, I've denied them egress, through that trap door, by adhering a crucifix atop it. Using flour-paste made with holy water!"
"That's all well and good, for that particular entrance," I replied: "But, if that cave really is just one part of a played-out Amerindian copper mine, then the original entrance, being underwater, is still all-too available to them! To say nothing of the fact that those missing girls might be down there!!"
"Valid points all," agreed Sir Anthony: "We've done all we can for tonight, however. We shall have to go to bed, and enact our original plans for tomorrow with some slight revisions."
I reluctantly nodded, and followed Sir Anthony back to our cabin. There, Bob Gabriel was pacing a hole in the floor in his concern over where we had been. I let Sir Anthony provide the elucidation, while I hopped into my bunk and went to sleep.
* * * * *
July 1, 1921, dawned with the now-customary bugling. I, however, was more annoyed with it than I had been on the first day after our arrival!
Sir Anthony grinned as he helped Bob literally drag me out of bed.
"You'll be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed after you get some coffee into your system," the former remarked (only somewhat sympathetically).
"What about those revised plans we were going to discuss?" I reminded him.
"Already done," said Bob: "Sir Anthony wrote a second letter before he joined you in drifting off. One asking for the President of the Detroit Lodge to contact the FBI, the Coast Guard, and the Army Air Corps via the Manhattan Lodge. He wants this place raided in force, ASAP!"
"In other words," I replied: "...Camp New Hope might be experiencing fireworks two days early."
Sir Anthony grimly nodded.
Half an hour later, Bob shook our hands as he pocketed both letters and boarded the ferry. We stood and we watched as the Clydesdales trotted on the conveyor belt that turned their horsepower into motive power. At the halfway point, however, something went wrong. The horses began rearing and neighing in panic! And, the two of us could only stare helplessly at the reason for it.
The emergence from the water of a fifty foot-tall female upper torso...covered with greenish-black scales.
tbc
Giantess World
Chapter End Notes:
*Liege: the city in Belgium (usually pronounced "Lee-ehj") of which St. Hubert was the first bishop.