For the first time in his adult life, Lucifer lost control of himself.
He screamed, and screamed again.
Hands clawed him down, smashed his face into a choking puddle of water and wet moss. The hands and arms beat against his back and ribs. Each blow was a flailing, uncoordinated effort, but the impact was crushing.
Water bubbled into Lucifer's mouth and nostrils. He raised his head to breath, and a random blow smashed it back down. He gulped air and water together. He choked, strangled.
And then the weight was gone from his back. The hands and arms stopped smashing against his flesh and bones. Lucifer raised himself on his elbows, retched chokingly.
A powerful pair of hands picked him up and half carried him out of the rain. Someone brushed back his hair, wiped his eyes. He opened them. A tall attendant held him up. Nina dried a trickle of water from his cheek. Her dark features showed shock and concern. Huth watched him sardonically.
"It was fortunate your wife sensed your danger and helped us find you," Huth said. "Your zeal for orientation is commendable, Dr. Brill, but I suggest you proceed less rigorously."
Lucifer took the handkerchief from Nina, wiped his mouth. It tasted salty. He attempted to stand with some measure of dignity.
"Who or what was that creature?" he demanded.