Blood in the Wings

by J. L. O'Rourke

  “Thank you, “ he said around a mouthful of wonton as he wandered off.

  I shoved the chocolate in my pocket and didn’t think about it until much later, as I helped my mother dispose of the empty take-away containers. Idly, I fished it from my pocket and began to unwrap it. Then I noticed the writing. It was definitely fish and chip wrapper, but the writing looked like someone’s idiot sheet.

  “Cue forty-seven,” I read. Cue forty-seven? There isn’t a cue forty-seven. I had eaten most of the chocolate when it hit me. 47. Cue 4-7. Cue for Severn! I licked the remains of the melted chocolate off the inside of the paper and, sure enough, there was the rest of the message. Looking for all the world like a direction for a followspot move.

  Stand by to exit. Fast travel. Stand by to pick up. Cue lampstand.

  What on earth did that mean? Okay, the first bit was easy. Obviously the Reverend and Finn were organising some sort of getaway for Severn. But pick up what? Where? By a lampstand? Maybe it was just what it looked like after all. A followspot cue. At least it made sense that way. Stand by to pick up some actor who was going to be leaving the stage. Fast travel – that meant it was probably a dancer, moving fast so the followspot operator would have to swivel the big light quickly to keep up with them and keep them in the spotlight. Cue lampstand? Maybe they were to get ready when the lampstand was turned on, or off, or moved, But hang on – the Reverend wasn’t on the followspot any more. He was in Severn’s place on the sound board. Maybe it was something he had noticed Aiden had missed. But Aiden wouldn’t miss any cues. The stage manager would be calling them to him very carefully, making sure he didn’t miss any of them. And if it was for Aiden, why had the Reverend wrapped it around my chocolate? Cue 47. It had to be for Severn. Maybe he would understand the lampstand thing.

  I licked the last trace of chocolate off the note and shoved it deep into my pocket. No time to think about it now. Those people who had gone home between the matinee and the evening show were starting to drift back into the theatre. Time to get back to work. Severn could explain it when I gave the note to him tonight. At the bottom of my pocket I could feel money. Money! Oh hell! I forgot to give Mum her change from the take-aways. I dashed to her dressing room and began to empty my over-stuffed pocket onto a chair, sorting the money from the rest of the junk. Maybe I should put the important note in my back pocket where I wasn’t so likely to accidentally pull it out along with my maglight, or my hanky, or my idiot sheet. And what was this piece of paper? The shopping list for the take-aways. A bus ticket. Another bus ticket. So much paper!

  Out of nowhere, I suddenly understood! I looked at the bits of paper strewn in front of me. All of a sudden the note made sense. The other note. Tasha’s note. All of a sudden I knew why she had gone to the theatre and who she was planning to meet. Of course! It was so simple. But what could I do about it?

  CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE

  I don’t remember much about the evening show. I went through my moves like a zombie. I presume I got the right things in the right place at the right time because nobody yelled at me, but I wasn’t concentrating. I couldn’t stop thinking about the notes. Both of them. I needed to talk to Severn, to make plans. In the back of my mind I also realised that “Stand by to exit. Fast travel.” meant Severn would soon be leaving, and I didn’t want to think about that.

  All I wanted to do when the show finished was go home, but that wasn’t going to happen. Even though Tasha’s death had squashed the plans for the mid-season cast and crew party, Grant and the committee had decided that everyone needed some sort of bonding exercise to try and keep things as normal as possible, so a quiet supper was being held back at the society’s rehearsal rooms. I knew Mum secretly wanted to go home as much as I did, but we had to do our bit and support Grant. Mum agreed we could probably sneak away after an hour or so and Grant nodded, adding that he thought the whole thing was only a token gesture and would wind itself up pretty quickly.

  He was right. It was flat. Quite the opposite to the riotous affair at our place a week earlier. No Dilly and Tasha, the duelling dancers. Everyone stood or sat around in quiet huddles, sipping more fruit juice than wine and nibbling on delicate club sandwiches of indeterminate and mysterious-looking fillings. The note seemed to be burning a hole in my pocket. I was sure the vampires could sense its presence. I was getting paranoid. For the short time they were there, they ignored me. The junior horde sat quietly together at a corner table while Seth targeted the few people he needed to speak to, Grant being one of them, then he beckoned them with a sweep of his arm and they all obediently trotted after him. Off to hunt, no doubt. I rushed over to Grant.

  “What did he want to talk to you about?” I demanded.

  “Don’t panic.” Mum hung coyly on Grant’s arm. “It wasn’t...” she waved her arms expressively trying to say in a gesture that he hadn’t mentioned Severn. “He was just being polite. Waving the flag and apologising for not staying. Not that we expected them to. It’s not exactly an exciting evening’s entertainment.”

  I relaxed.

  “No, it’s not. Can we go soon, please?”

  Grant looked at his watch.

  “Another fifteen minutes?” he asked, hopefulness giving him that spaniel puppy expression he does so well.

  “Ok,” I sighed. “Another fifteen minutes. Then I’m dragging you out by the hair.”

  I wandered aimlessly back to the food table and was debating having another slice of cake, so I didn’t notice Finn and the Reverend come back in.

  “Where can we talk, privately?”

  For the second time today he made me jump. With just a slight nod of my head to tell them to follow me, I turned and left the room. The rehearsal rooms were above a row of shops. Above them again were offices. I headed up the stairs and sat down on the top one. They sank down to join me.

  “Sugar gliders.” the Reverend began.

  “Where’s Seth?” I was still paranoid.

  “Nightclubbing. Don’t worry; we don’t want him here either. But we don’t have long or he’ll notice we’re not there. Now... sugar gliders?”

  I giggled. Then I came straight to the point.

  “I know your secret. I saw you and Aiden fly. At the theatre. Hanging the lights.”

  “You told Severn?”

  “Yep.”

  “And he’s okay with this?”

  “Yep.”

  Finn and the Reverend looked at each other and seemed to come to a mutual decision. The Reverend continued.

  “Well, I guess that makes the next step a whole lot easier. One less set of lies and deceptions we have to deal with. I take it Severn is with you?”

  “Yep again.”

  “Your parents are in on this too?”

  “Yep again.”

  “Do they know as well?” Finn broke in, in a tone of total disbelief.

  “Nope. Not about the wings. Well, Grant definitely doesn’t know but Mum is one of those weird psychic witchy women and she may know, but it’s impossible to tell with her. But we didn’t tell her.”

  Finn buried his head in his hands, sighing deeply. The Reverend just closed his eyes and shook his head in bewilderment before continuing.

  “Ok. So he’s safe for now. But it is a bit obvious. I would imagine it shouldn’t take long for either Seth or the police, or both, to figure it out and the police, at least, can simply bring a warrant and drag him out. So we have to act quickly. I guess you read the note, but I also suppose it is irrelevant now as we can just tell you and you can tell Severn. Transport is on its way. I will have his new passport and papers by tomorrow.” He checked his watch. “We can’t stay, Seth will be getting twitchy. But we need to talk to Severn. It’s your city – where’s a good place to meet?”

  I thought quickly.

  “My school. Eastgate High. It’s on the main road by the mall. There’s a statue out the front, with a stone wall behind it. We could meet there.”

  “Ok,” he checked his watch again. “Give m
e a couple of hours.”

  “Ok,” I sighed in agreement. Yet another night without sleep.

  CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

  “Why didn’t you just tell them to come to our place?” Mum asked the obvious question.

  We were back home, sitting around the dining table, nursing cups of drinking chocolate, in what was fast becoming a regular habit. Severn was studying the obscure, slightly chocolate flavoured note from the Reverend, and I had just finished explaining some, if not all, of my conversation.

  “Because I didn’t think of it,” I answered honestly.

  ”Hmm,” Mum was thinking. “Severn, I presume you can drive?”

  Severn nodded.

  “Then take the car. It will save a lot of time, you won’t get so cold and, if there are any police cruising around the neighbourhood, you won’t be so noticeable.” She pulled the car keys from her pocket and slid them across the table to Severn who mumbled his thanks, his mind still puzzling the note.

  “I don’t get the lampstand bit either.” He gave up and pushed the note away.

  “Well,” said Mum, draining the last of her drink, “Grant, move yourself. Let’s leave them to puzzle it out and get some sleep. Be careful you two,” she added as they left the room.

  I waited till I was sure they were out of earshot.

  “They know that I know about the wings.”

  “How did they take it?”

  “Surprisingly well. Almost relieved. The Reverend said it made it easier - one less set of lies to tell. Come on, let’s go now. They might get there early.”

  “Where do you think you will be going?” I asked as we drove out of our street and turned towards Linwood Avenue.

  “I don’t know,” Severn shrugged a reply as he concentrated on figuring out the workings of Mum’s car.

  “Maybe there are other groups of you and you’ll be sent to one of them,” I guessed. “What do you call a group of vampires anyway? A horde? A tribe? A coven?”

  “I don’t know. A roost? A swarm?” Severn laughed. “I don’t know if there is a term specifically. Is there a term for a group of teenage girls?”

  I got his point.

  “Seth calls us a guild,” Severn continued, swinging the car around the traffic island to bring it to a halt outside the school gates.

  We didn’t have to wait long before the black-coated figures of the Reverend and Finn appeared walking around the corner from the side street. Severn gave one quick blast on the car’s horn and they hurried over to climb into the back seat. Severn reached over the seat to shake hands with both of them.

  “Hi guys, thanks for coming to help.”

  “Are you all right?” Finn was genuinely concerned. Severn nodded.

  “Right!” The Reverend clapped his hands together to get our collective attention. “We have a lot of things to say and not long enough to say it all, so let’s get started. The best thing we can do for you right at this moment is get you out the country and out of Seth’s way. Once you’re safe, I will deal with Seth.”

  “You will deal with Seth?” Severn sounded incredulous. “”Do tell me how?”

  The Reverend smiled sweetly and rubbed his hands in glee.

  “Let me tell you a story.”

  “There isn’t time for stories,” I butted in. “You just said so! How are you going to get him away from here and where are you sending him? Are there more ... colonies? ... is that the word?... of you lot?”

  “Severn? Finn? Do you want to answer that?” the Reverend looked from one to the other.

  “I thought there was just us,” Severn shrugged. “Otherwise I would have been out of here long ago.”

  “That’s what Seth wants you to think,” the Reverend replied. “That’s how he keeps his power over you. But it isn’t true. Now, can I tell you a story?”

  “We’re not a huge group,” he continued, “ and we may not be the only ones. We don’t know if there are any others because we don’t exactly advertise and neither do they, but logic suggests there could be other groups out there somewhere. If there are, with the help of the internet, we can probably begin to make contact. However, for now there is just the Order as we know it. About fifty of us. We live in a monastery, on a mountain, in the south of France. I own it.”

  All our mouths dropped open at once. The Reverend giggled at our surprise.

  “We told you and Tasha, Riley, that I was called the Reverend because I am. Reverend Father, actually. I’m a monk. When I was a child, back in the 1340s, if you wanted a good education you joined the church, so I was packed off to the nearest monastery – which just happened to be on land owned by my father. It was a weird place, with a reputation for receiving visits from angels. The local peasants kept insisting to my father that they saw angels flying over the monastery at night. Don’t you think it’s much nicer to be thought of as an angel than as a vampire?

  “Anyway,” he continued, “the Black Plague struck and people were dropping dead all over the place. Lots of the ordinary monks died. I was saved by an angel. Okay, some of us were saved by being transformed by the Abbot. Twenty eight of us survived the plague, twelve of us still live in the monastery. Which, as I said, I now own as my father and the rest of my family did not survive the plague.”

  “So, if you actually run the show,” I broke in, “why is Seth in charge and, come to that, why are you here at all?”

  “This is where the story gets interesting.” The Reverend settled back in to the car seat and made himself more comfortable. “Seth was a mistake. We make them from time to time. He joined us about three hundred years ago. He comes from a privileged background, as do a lot of us, but whereas some of us believe in equality and intelligent government by mutual agreement, Seth believes he is better than everyone and should, therefore, be the one in charge. He has never been able to get his head around the fact that we rule ourselves by a committee. His biggest ambition is to take over the committee, throw them all out and run the place himself.”

  “Them?” Finn interjected. “You own the place but you’re not on the committee yourself?”

  “No,” The Reverend replied. “Because I own the place. I didn’t want to have too much influence, and I prefer to keep a low profile, but I do have a casting vote if necessary.”

  “Seems fair,” Finn nodded in approval.

  “Seth was so determined he was the only one with the ability to run the Order, we decided to let him put his money where his mouth was, so to speak. The committee told him to leave the Order and travel for two hundred years, putting together a group of his own and proving he could deal with all the problems that come with not appearing to age, and needing to feed. Then he could return and his place on the committee would be voted on again. He thought that was an easy assignment. He also thought that I went with him because I was just as disgruntled with the committee as he was. He has no idea of my real position and no idea that my real job in this little escapade was to watch him, evaluate his leadership abilities and send constant reports back to the monastery. He also has no idea that he has completely failed the test.”

  “So where does that leave me?” Severn inquired.

  “On your way back to France, as soon as the Lear jet arrives. It had to be diverted from a run to Stockholm so it should arrive about 2am Monday morning – in about 24 hours time.”

  “Won’t the police have the airport security watching for me?”

  “Indeed, but they will be watching for Severn Jura travelling on a British passport, not Brother John-Benedictine travelling on diplomatic immunity from the Holy See.”

  “The holy what?” I asked “And isn’t Benedictine a drink?”

  “The Holy See. You’ll be travelling on a Vatican passport,” the Reverend explained. “One of the benefits of being a monk – especially monks with printing presses and hundreds of years’ experience in passport forgery.” He grinned. “And yes, it’s a very nice drink – invented by a monk. Now, Severn, your passport should arrive by courier tom
orrow. I will get it to Riley during the show. All you have to do is get yourself to the airport by 2am and wait for the plane. Any other questions?”

  “What will happen to Seth?” Finn asked quietly.

  “The jet won’t just be collecting Severn, it will also be dropping off Brother Martin. He and I will deal with Seth,” the Reverend replied, his tone guarded.

  “And us?” Finn continued.

  “We will continue to crew the show for the rest of the week. The last thing we need is for our troubles to impact on others. We have signed a contract to work this show and we will honour that contract. All of us except Severn, for obvious reasons. After pack-out everyone will be taken back to the monastery where Seth, and Olivia who is positively dangerous and a very nasty woman, will answer to the charges I will be putting forwards, and they will be dealt with by the Order’s decision. You and your children will be welcomed, although Meredith may need some serious counselling to undo the damage done by Olivia and Seth’s influence.”

  “Your children? Meredith and Aiden are your children?” I was gobsmacked.

  “Yes,” Finn sounded tired. “Aiden watched Meredith being changed by Olivia and Seth. He told me and we both allowed ourselves to be changed to keep Meredith safe. I don’t know if we succeeded.” He turned to the Reverend. “If you want anyone to testify against those two, Aiden and I will be willing to speak out.”

  “Thank you,” the Reverend replied. “I will make sure you have your chance. Now, it’s getting late. Severn, can you drop us off a couple of blocks from the flat?”

  “Hey,” I said later as we pulled Mum’s car into the garage. “I’ve just remembered another thing I didn’t want to say in front of Mum and Grant – well not yet anyway. I know who killed Tasha. I know who wrote the note.”

  “What?” Severn was incredulous. “Who? Can we prove it?”

  “Maybe we can.” A plan was beginning to formulate in my head. “Maybe we can.”