‘Angus had five brothers and sisters and his mother was sick, barely able to leave her bed. They all lived together squeezed into a miserable damp house that was falling to pieces. I don’t need to tell you the situation was desperate. In a small voice, Angus made his wish known to Cain: that his father get his job back at the steel works. Cain agreed and then, just as I had been told, we saw him disappear off into the mist. The following day Angus’s father was inexplicably called back to work. Cain had fulfilled his promise.
‘Two weeks later, Angus and I were returning home after a visit to a travelling fair on the outskirts of town. We didn’t want to get back too late, so we took a short cut along an abandoned railway line. It was dark, and we were walking through that eerie moonlit landscape when we saw a figure emerging from the mist and coming towards us. The figure was wrapped in a dark cloak. The Prince of Mist. We were paralysed with fear. Cain approached us and, with his usual smile, he spoke to Angus. He told my friend that the time had come for him to return the favour. Stricken with terror, Angus agreed. Cain said that his request was a simple one: a small settling of scores. In those days, the richest person in the area – in fact, the only rich person – was Skolimoski, a Polish tradesman who owned a food and clothing store where everyone did their shopping. Angus’s mission was to set fire to Skolimoski’s shop. The task was to be completed the following night. Angus tried to protest, but he couldn’t get the words out. There was something in Cain’s eyes that made it clear he was not prepared to accept anything other than total obedience. The magician left the same way he’d come.
‘We ran all the way home, and when I left Angus at his door and saw the horror that filled his eyes, my heart went out to him. The following day I combed the streets looking for my friend, but there was no trace of him. I was beginning to worry that Angus had decided to carry out the criminal act requested by Cain, so I decided to stand guard opposite Skolimoski’s store as soon as it grew dark. Angus never turned up, and the Pole’s shop didn’t go up in flames that night. I felt guilty for having doubted my friend and thought the best thing I could do was try to reassure him. I knew him well; he was bound to be at home, hiding, trembling at the thought of the sinister magician’s revenge. The next morning I went to his house. Angus wasn’t there. With tears in her eyes his mother told me he hadn’t come home that night and begged me to find him and bring him back.
‘Sick with fear, I scoured the whole area from top to bottom, not forgetting a single one of its stinking corners. Nobody had seen him. By the evening, exhausted and not knowing where else I could possibly look, a dark thought took hold of me. I returned to the path by the old railway line and followed the tracks that glowed faintly in the moonlight. I didn’t have to walk for long. I found my friend lying on the rails, in the same place where Cain had appeared out of the mist two nights before. I tried to feel his pulse, but my hands could find no skin on that body. Only ice. The body of my friend had been transformed into a grotesque statue of smoking blue ice that was slowly melting onto the abandoned line. Around his neck was a small medal with the same symbol I remembered seeing on Cain’s cloak – a six-pointed star within a circle. I stayed with Angus until his features vanished forever into the gloom in a pool of cold tears.
‘That same night, while I was discovering my friend’s horrific fate, Skolimoski’s store was destroyed by a ferocious fire. I never told anybody what I had witnessed that day.
‘Two months later, my family moved south, to a place far from our old home. As the months went by I started to believe that the Prince of Mist was only a bitter memory, a fragment of the bleak years spent in the shadows of that poor, dirty, violent town of my childhood … Until I saw him again and realised that what had happened that night had been only the beginning.’
10
‘MY NEXT ENCOUNTER WITH THE PRINCE OF Mist took place a few months later. My father had just been promoted to chief engineer in a textile factory and to celebrate he decided to take us all to a large amusement park built on a wooden pier. I’ll never forget it. The pier stretched out into the sea and the buildings on it shone like a glass palace suspended from the sky. When night fell, the sight of all the multicoloured lights reflected on the water was magnificent. I’d never seen anything so beautiful. My father was over the moon: he’d rescued his family from what promised to be a miserable future and was now a man with a good job, highly regarded, and with enough money in his pocket to be able to let his children enjoy the same amusements as any other child in town. We had an early dinner and then my father gave us each a few coins to spend on whatever we liked while he and my mother strolled about arm in arm, rubbing shoulders with the well-to-do.
‘I was fascinated by the Big Wheel that turned ceaselessly at one end of the pier – its lights could be seen for miles along the coast – and I ran to join the queue. As I waited I became aware of a booth standing only a few metres away. Between lucky dips and shooting galleries, an intense purple light illuminated the mysterious den of Dr Cain, fortune-teller, magician and clairvoyant, as the notice outside proclaimed. A third-rate artist had depicted Cain’s face on the sign, which stared threateningly at any onlookers who walked past the new lair of the Prince of Mist. The portrait, together with the shadows projected by the purple lamp, lent the den a chilling, funereal appearance. A curtain with the six-pointed star embroidered in black cloaked the entrance.
‘As if drawn by an invisible force, I left the queue for the Big Wheel and walked over to the hut. I was trying to peek inside through a narrow gap when the curtain was flung open and a woman dressed in black, with skin as white as milk and dark, piercing eyes, beckoned to me. Inside, sitting behind a table under the glow of an oil lamp, I recognised the man I had met in another place and time: Cain. A large dark cat with golden eyes was grooming itself at his feet.
‘Without thinking twice, I went over to the table where the Prince of Mist was waiting for me, a smile on his face. I still remember his voice, deep and measured, saying my name over the hypnotic sound of the music from a merry-go-round that seemed to be far, far away …’
*
‘Victor, my friend,’ Cain murmured, ‘if I weren’t a fortune-teller I’d say that fate wished our paths to cross again.’
‘Who are you?’ young Victor managed to stammer as he glanced over at the ghostly woman, who had retreated into the shadows.
‘I’m Dr Cain. Surely you saw the sign?’ Cain replied. ‘Having a nice time with your family?’
Victor gulped and nodded.
‘That’s good,’ the magician went on. ‘Amusement is like laudanum: it takes away all the misery and pain, even if only for a short time.’
‘I don’t know what laudanum is,’ replied Victor.
‘A drug, my son, it’s a drug,’ Cain replied wearily, turning to look at a clock resting on a shelf to his right.
The hands seemed to be going backwards.
‘Time does not exist, that’s why we mustn’t lose it. Have you decided on your wish?’
‘I don’t have a wish,’ Victor replied shakily.
Cain burst out laughing.
‘Come, come. None of us has only one wish; we have hundreds. And life doesn’t grant us many chances to make them come true.’ Cain looked over at the mysterious woman with a grimace that was meant to look like pity. ‘Isn’t that true, dearest?’
The woman didn’t reply. It almost seemed as if she was made of wood and was incapable of movement.
‘But some of us are lucky, Victor,’ said Cain, leaning over the table. ‘Like you. Because you can make your dreams come true, Victor. And you know how.’
‘The way Angus did?’ Victor snapped despite himself. He’d noticed something odd that he couldn’t get out of his mind: Cain hadn’t blinked at all, not even once.
‘An accident, dear friend. An unfortunate accident,’ said Cain, adopting a note of concern. ‘It’s a mistake to think that dreams can come true without having to offer anything in exchange. Don’t you agr
ee, Victor? It wouldn’t be fair. Angus tried to forget he had certain obligations, and that could not be tolerated. But that is all in the past. Let’s talk about the future, your future.’
‘Is that what you did?’ Victor asked, emboldened by fear. ‘Make your own dream come true? To become what you are now? What did you have to give in exchange?’
Cain lost his reptilian smile and fixed his eyes on Victor Kray. For a moment the boy feared Cain was going to pounce on him and tear him to shreds. Eventually, Cain sighed.
‘An intelligent young man. That’s what I like, Victor. And yet you still have a lot to learn. When you’re ready, come and visit me again. You’ll know how to find me. I hope to see you soon.’
‘I doubt that,’ Victor replied, getting to his feet, his heart still pounding.
Like a sagging puppet whose strings have suddenly been pulled, the woman walked towards him, as if to see him out. Victor was only a few steps from the door when he heard Cain’s voice behind him.
‘One more thing, Victor. About your wishes. Give it some thought. The offer still stands. You may not be interested, but perhaps some member of your wonderfully happy family has a secret desire they dare not mention. That’s my speciality …’
Without pausing to reply, Victor stepped out into the fresh night air. He took a deep breath and ran off in search of his family. As he left, Dr Cain’s laughter echoed behind him like the cry of a hyena.
*
Until then, Max had been listening spellbound to the old man’s story, without daring to ask any of the thousands of questions that were spilling over in his brain. Victor Kray seemed to read his thoughts and pointed at him accusingly.
‘Patience, young man. All the pieces will fit together in due course. You’re not allowed to interrupt. OK?’
Although the warning was directed at Max, the friends agreed in unison.
‘Good, good …’ the lighthouse keeper mumbled.
*
‘That night I decided to stay away from that man forever and try to erase all thoughts of him from my mind. It wasn’t easy. Whoever Dr Cain was, he had a strange way of getting inside your head, like a splinter that goes deeper into your skin the more you try to pull it out. I couldn’t talk about him with anyone or they’d think I was a lunatic, and I couldn’t go to the authorities because I wouldn’t have known where to begin. So I did the only thing that seemed wise in this sort of situation: I decided to let time go by.
‘Things were going well for us in our new home and I was lucky enough to meet someone who proved to be a great help to me: a priest who taught maths and physics at school. His name was Darius. At first he seemed to have his head in the clouds half the time, but in fact his intelligence was only equalled by his kindness, although he concealed it well, pretending to be just another mad scientist. Darius encouraged me to work hard and discover the joys of mathematics, so it wasn’t surprising that, after a few years in his charge, my talent for science became increasingly clear. Initially, I wanted to follow in his footsteps and devote myself to teaching, but the reverend father gave me a severe telling off and said that what I had to do was go to college, study physics and become the best engineer the country had ever seen. Either I did that, or he would never speak to me again.
‘Darius was the one who managed to get me a university grant and who set me on the path towards what could, or should, have been. He passed away the week before my graduation. I’m no longer ashamed to say that I felt his loss as much or more than the loss of my own father. In college I became a close friend of the person who would lead me once more to a meeting with Dr Cain: a young medical student whose family was scandalously wealthy – or so it seemed to me – called Richard Fleischmann. Indeed, the future Dr Fleischmann who, years later, would build the house by the beach.
‘Richard Fleischmann was an impetuous young man, prone to excess. He was used to the fact that throughout his life things had always turned out the way he’d wanted them to, and when, for any reason, something did not go as planned he would fly into a rage. A quirk of fate is what led us to become friends: we both fell in love with the same woman, Eva Gray, the daughter of the most unbearable, tyrannical chemistry professor on the campus.
‘At first we’d all go out together, the three of us, and on Sundays we’d go away for the day whenever that ogre, Theodore Gray, didn’t manage to stop us. But this arrangement didn’t last long. The most curious thing about it was that Fleischmann and I, far from being rivals, became the best of friends. Every night, when we returned Eva to the ogre’s cave, we’d walk back to our rooms together knowing that, sooner or later, one of us would be out of the running.
‘Until that day came, we spent the best two years of my life together. But everything must come to an end. The break-up of our inseparable trio arrived on the night of our graduation. Although I’d achieved every kind of success imaginable, I was feeling down in the dumps because of the death of my old tutor. So, although I never drank, Eva and Richard decided they should get me drunk that night to rid me of my melancholy. Needless to say, the ogre, Theodore, who supposedly was as deaf as a post yet seemed to be able to hear through walls when it suited him, uncovered our plan, and when the evening ended, Fleischmann and I found ourselves alone, completely smashed in some seedy bar, where we devoted our time to praising the object of our impossible love, Eva Gray.
‘That same night, as we stumbled back to the campus, a travelling fair seemed to emerge from the mist beside the railway station. Convinced that a ride on the merry-go-round would cure us of our drunken state, Fleischmann and I walked into the fair and ended up outside the den of Dr Cain, magician, fortune-teller and clairvoyant, as his sinister sign still announced. Fleischmann had a brilliant idea. We would go in and ask the fortune-teller to reveal the enigma: which of us would Eva choose? Despite my drunken daze, I had enough common sense not to go in, but I could not stop my friend, who rushed headlong into the tent.
‘I suppose I passed out, because I don’t remember much about the following hours. When I regained consciousness, my head throbbing, Fleischmann and I were lying on an old wooden bench. Day was breaking and the caravans from the fair had disappeared, as if all the lights, noise and crowds of the night had been an illusion conjured by our alcohol-soaked brains. We stood up and gazed at the deserted plot of land around us. I asked my friend whether he remembered anything about the previous night. Fleischmann told me he’d dreamed that he’d gone into a magician’s den and when he’d been asked what his greatest wish was, he’d replied that he wanted to be loved by Eva Gray. Then he laughed, joking about our monumental hangover, convinced that nothing he’d told me had actually happened.
‘Two months later, Eva Gray and Richard Fleischmann were married. They didn’t even invite me to the wedding. I wouldn’t see them again for over twenty years.’
*
‘One wet winter’s day, a man wearing a raincoat followed me from the office to my home. From the dining-room window I could see that the stranger was watching my house. I hesitated for a few moments and then went outside, ready to unmask the mysterious spy. It was Richard Fleischmann, trembling with cold, his face wrinkled with age and a haunted look in his eyes. My old friend looked as if he hadn’t slept in months. I made him come in and offered him a cup of hot coffee. Without daring to look me in the eye he asked about that night long ago, in Dr Cain’s lair.
‘I was in no mood for pleasantries. I asked him what Cain had demanded in exchange for making his wish come true. Fleischmann, his face distorted by fear and shame, sank to his knees in front of me, crying and begging for my help. I ignored his tears, insisting on an answer to my question. What had he promised Dr Cain in exchange for his services?
‘“My firstborn son,” he replied. “I promised him my son …”’
*
‘Fleischmann confessed to me that for years, and without her knowledge, he’d been administering a drug to his wife that prevented her from conceiving a child. But eventually Eva F
leischmann had plunged into a deep depression and the absence of the child she so desired had turned their marriage into a living hell. Fleischmann was afraid that if Eva didn’t conceive she would soon lose her mind, or that, with so much sadness, her life would slowly be extinguished, like a candle going out through lack of oxygen. He told me there was no one else he could turn to and he begged my forgiveness then asked for my help. In the end I said I would help him, not for his sake but out of the affection I still felt for Eva Gray and in memory of our old friendship.
‘That very night I threw Fleischmann out of my house, but my plan was very different to what the man I had once considered my friend imagined. I followed him through the rain, tracking him across the city. I asked myself why I was doing it. But the very thought that Eva Gray, who had rejected me when we were both so young, might have to hand over her son to that vile sorcerer, made my stomach turn and was sufficient reason for me to confront Dr Cain once more, even though I was increasingly aware that I might not escape unharmed.
‘Fleischmann’s wanderings led me to the new lair of my former acquaintance, the Prince of Mist. His new home was a travelling circus, and to my surprise Dr Cain had given up his role as fortune-teller and clairvoyant in favour of a persona more in keeping with his sense of humour. He was dressed as a clown, his face painted white and red, although his constantly changing eyes gave away his identity even beneath dozens of layers of make-up. Cain’s circus flew a flag decorated with the six-pointed star at the top of a tall mast and the magician had surrounded himself with a group of sinister companions who used the cover of being circus performers to disguise something else much darker. For two weeks I spied on Cain’s circus and soon discovered that its threadbare, yellowing big top concealed a gang of tricksters, criminals and thieves who robbed and stole wherever they went. I also discovered that Dr Cain’s lack of care in choosing his slaves had resulted in a trail of crimes, disappearances and thefts which had not gone unnoticed by the local police, who could smell the stench of corruption emanating from the ghoulish troupe.
The Prince of Mist Page 8
