by Doug Burbey
"Of course, Cardinal Nowakywski, it would be my pleasure." The man pulled out a paper log and Shane almost sighed in relief, until he also pulled out his phone. "Please look into this so I can verify your identify and I will get a new pass for you asap."
Fuck, I hate technology some days.
13
Realizations
Shane forced a smile and while keeping the beguilement on Josef, sent Cristopher into a thrall. They had practiced this on strangers in bars and it always made him feel slimy inside.
Sweat ran down his back, and the headache at the edge of his skull started to creep into pain riding into his brain like a wave.
"Cardinal Nowakywski, I'll catch up with you in a minute, don't worry about me and this bureaucracy."
"The hallmarks of civilization, unfortunately. I'll meet you inside, I see someone I wanted to talk to." The Cardinal smiled, a half-dazed smile even as Shane fought to keep up the beguilement and the thrall.
The man slipped into the building and Shane hoped he'd had long enough to make the man’s mind believe he did like him, as he focused on the guard. It took too much time and too much energy but he didn't have a choice. He convinced the guard the phone had found his retina scan under Marcus Vipsanius and logged it correctly, then created a new pass for him.
The only reason Shane kept going was when he realized how complicated the pass itself would be. From a guard at a side door he'd expected a flimsy paper pass. Apparently all of them were equipped with phones with apps to do the validations, and a little printer that created the equivalent of a drivers license like card, with holograms and everything. In the future he wouldn't have to sneak in. He would have a valid pass that would stand up to any check, because it was real.
None of that changed the fact that by the time he had the pass and had convinced the guard to forget ninety percent of what happened, his skull felt like it might rupture, and his eyes watered from the pain. The idea of taking up the beguilement with the Cardinal might not be possible.
The cardinal stood to the side and smiled, then frowned when he saw Shane.
Shit, it faded, shit, shit, shit.
He tried to muster up the energy to try and bring up the beguilement, but even that made his vision go dark at the sides.
"My dear boy, are you okay? You look dreadful. Here sit down." The Cardinal ushered him to a seat and Shane wanted to sob in relief. The beguilement had held.
The man hurried away and came back a minute later with a glass of water and three small pills.
"I recognize the look. One of my mentor's used to get migraines like that. They come of the blue and you feel like your head is going to split in half." The man smiled at Shane, offering him the pills.
Shane didn't know if they would help. He'd never pushed himself like this, and the demon blood added a level of complication that he had not expected. Either way, he wasn't looking a gift horse in the mouth.
He accepted the pills with a smile that he both forced and sincerely meant. Shane swallowed the pills and the water followed.
"Thank you. I didn't realize a migraine was coming on but the darkness in here will help. I am so sorry to impose on you."
"Is not our existence but to serve?" The man smiled. "I try to remember that is what Christ did, serve others. So how can I be better than him?"
Wow, I actually found a good man. I think I might feel a bit guilty.
"Thank you. I am feeling better." That qualified as an outright lie, but he needed to get to the library and get researching. He pushed himself to his feet and fought to stay upright. "See, much better. Thank you so much for your time."
The cardinal frowned a bit, but Shane just kept his smile and Josef sighed. "The young, always in a hurry. Maybe they are right, your time is finite. This way." The older man turned and Shane followed him into the depths of the Vatican.
The entire building held as many wonders of architecture and art as he had expected and he fought to not stop and examine every piece they passed. Maybe later he would be able to spend a little time admiring what would soon be destroyed.
"Ah, here we are. The library, and here I must leave you. Please do try to come see me for breakfast again. I much enjoyed our talk. It was much more pleasant than sitting there alone." Josef had paused outside a set of doors that were covered in carvings so intricate that Shane had to fight not to get lost in the detail of them. He could smell the books on the other side of the door and it helped to push his headache back a bit. Or maybe the pills were helping.
"Thank you for your kindness to a stranger in your city." Shane found the flowery words easy to say. He meant it. This would have been much harder without a basically good man.
"Go with God, my son." The Cardinal flashed a smile, and then in a swirl of cassocks headed down the hallway.
Shane sagged into a nearby chair, closing his eyes. The headache still pounded at him, though it had lessened somewhat. After a few minutes, maybe as many as twenty, he thought he might be able to act like a rational human being again.
When he could function he rose and pushed open the doors of the library, paying special attention to the whispers of power he could feel, but not trace to anything. A robed figure sat at a desk to the right as he entered. He didn't know the ranks well enough to even guess what the man's title might be. It didn't matter.
Old, with wrinkles deeper than the shadows he glared up at Shane. "Pass, please." Or least that was what Shane assumed he said, as it wasn't hello. Shane pulled out the pass and showed it to the man. He had made sure he had the highest level clearance. The man lifted one bushy eyebrow, but only nodded and went back to his book.
One hurdle passed. He moved through the library, slowing down the second he could no longer see the man at the desk. Power whispered, though not Fae or Demon. This felt like his own magic, but he couldn't track it down. The library took up a huge amount of space, and Shane gave himself the freedom to just wander.
All the books looked old, but not old enough.
Stupid. What you are looking for would be preserved, in a secure area with environmental controls.
The realization hit him and he wanted to beat his head against the wall. Then something else whispered through his mind.
How in the hell am I going to read what I find? Everything at the BL was in English. Occasionally, archaic English, but English.
He sagged into a chair, closing his eyes, feeling his temples pound.
You were a soldier. A damn lieutenant colonel. Figure it out.
His eyes closed, mainly because his head still hurt, and he thought it through. Idea after idea came in and was discarded for either being too stupid, too impractical or just not possible.
After a good twenty minutes, during which his head almost had quit threatening to kill him, he faced the truth. He'd have to find the head librarian monk, or whatever, thrall him and get him to lead him to the books he needed, if they even existed.
He rose and headed back to the front desk, hoping the door guard spoke English and that his pass said the right things.
The man looked up as he approached, no readable expression on his face.
"Excuse, is there a head librarian or archivist I could speak to? I have a few questions, but my Italian is non-existent."
The man grunted, picked up a desk phone with push buttons, poked some numbers then spoke in rapid Italian into it. He hung up and pointed to a chair and gave Shane a meaningful glare.
Got it. Sit down, shut up, and wait for superiors. That I know how to do. Don't like it, but I know how to do it.
He sat in the chair trying to look all priestly, or at least not like he wanted to kill everyone. That might be a bit extreme. Shane had been raised in the Catholic Church, but as soon as he left the house church hadn't mattered. With the demons showing up, he'd not even bothered to pray, feeling like it had all been a bunch of bullshit.
But sitting there, remembering the Cardinal, he couldn't help a bit of guilt slipping in at the edges of wh
at remained of his heart. There were still good people. Maybe he should be trying to save them all instead of just himself?
That idea floated through his mind again and again. Not that he knew how to even save himself yet, but for the first time in a long time he didn't immediately discount it.
"You requested my advice?"
The voice spoke behind him and he jumped and spun, battlefield reactions driving him to reach for a weapon. The startled look on the man's face helped remind him of where he was. He let himself stagger a bit and changed the reach for a rifle to a clutch at his heart.
"So sorry, Father. I'm a bit jumpy." He left it there and shrugged, hoping the man would fill in his own reasons for Shane reacting like a scalded cat.
"This is a fractious time in our history. Gioro said you needed to talk to an archivist?"
Shane reached for the beguilement and his head started to explode in little fireworks of pain.
Ah fuck, I'm tapped, I can't do this today.
"Yes, thank you. I'm visiting and have some special research to do on works that might have been rescued from Britain during the late 5th or early 6th century? Would you have time tomorrow to help me find these tomes?"
He pushed what he could to get the man to like him. Even as he saw bright lights in his eyes as he reached for everything he had, urging the man to like him, to feel that buzz of a good drink with friends.
"I'm sorr-" the man looked at him, eyes wide. "You're bleeding. Are you okay?" He handed Shane a handkerchief and Shane took it, dabbing at his nose that had blood flowing out of it.
"Forgive me. It has been a dream of mine, but time might be shorter than I thought before I meet Him in person." Shane hoped his reply was oblique enough.
The man's face went solemn. "We all meet Him when He is ready for us, not we are ready for Him. My schedule for the next few days is packed. But Thursday I could escort you to the rooms and assist you. I know of the books you are talking about." The man half smiled. "Years ago they were considered seditious and a threat to the faith. But now? They are historical curiosities. Nothing more. Go back to your room and rest. Meet me here at ten bells on Thursday and I will show you what little we have."
"Your graciousness is appreciated. Thank you." With those words, Shane dropped the spell and almost passed out as the pain backlashed into him.
"Ah, go. There is no reason to hurry your meeting with Him." The man patted him and then disappeared into the stacks. Shane shuffled out, half blind with pain, determined to get to the hotel room and pass out.
14
Libraries
Shane didn't remember getting back to the hotel room. The next thing he knew the sun shone in the room and in his eyes. He woke up with a moan, but his head didn't explode when he sat up. Brownish-red coated the pillowcase and when he went into the bathroom he saw blood all over his face. With a disgusted sigh, he took a shower, then dealt with the pillowsheet.
A check of the TV told him it was Wednesday late afternoon. He'd slept for almost twenty-four hours.
No over extending. Blood is good. If I can't dose to use that magic, use sparingly. Fuck that hurt.
He got food and spent the rest of the day recovering. The demon blood in the packs called his name, but even using them would make tomorrow even worse. As it was, he'd need every bit of power he could muster.
The next day he rose and walked slowly to the library, wanting some time to finish exploring before his meeting. The pass let him enter without any issue, but he still dreaded the beguiling or even worse possible thrall. That had hurt worse than any hangover he'd ever had. Heck, it had made the one time he'd been shot feel like a hangnail.
The library didn't have any areas that he could sense anything other than the generalized magic of the books. Like plants, air, and water, books had a specific feel to them. He'd never asked Lewl about that and now he'd probably never get the chance.
A few minutes before ten bells he stationed himself at the same area and waited. He saw the man appear from the stacks this time, and Shane sent out the waves of friendly feel good vibes.
"You look like you are feeling better. You are well?" He had an Italian accent and sounded at least a bit interested.
Shane pushed out the like me vibes, trying to not overwhelm him but enough to have it sink in so he could get what he needed.
"As well as can be expected. Thank you for this?" He let his voice lilt needing a name. It would help to keep the man liking him.
"Ah, si. I am Prefect Jean-Louis. You are looking for the old texts from Britain?"
"Yes. It may be a fool's errand, but I am looking for information about Arthur, Merlin, and Camelot. My research indicates the Holy Church had a shipment of them around the time Arthur may have existed."
"Ah yes. I remember those. For so many years they were regarded as seditious. Now?" He shrugged. "Walk with me. They are in a preserved area, but they are not considered sensitive." Shane fell into step with him as they went deeper into the library and opened a door that had been locked to him. "Though I suspect with the appearance of the invaders and the questioning we need to do with our own faith, it is right to maybe look again at what these old books said. Maybe they were less fairy tales that we thought, no?" Even as he asked he turned and walked into a much older part of the church with books in enclosed cases.
"This is where we keep the older books, where you may only access them with gloves and in this area." He pulled open the door and stepped in. Shane went to follow him and slammed into a wall. He bounced backwards almost falling over. The Prefect spun looking at him, awareness entering his eyes.
"What happened?"
Shane snapped a thrall down on him even as pain started behind his skull. "What was that? What stops me from entering?"
The man swayed a bit, his eyes going foggy and Shane lightened up a bit. "I don't know. It is a door."
"Some magic is here. Stopping me. What magic is here?"
"Magic? We have no magic users. There is no magic-" He broke off as Shane let him think. "There are old stories, stories for the young priests to laugh at."
"Such as."
"When this was first built, an angel appeared. Told the builders he would protect the sacred works from those tainted by demons." A light started in his eye and Shane increased the beguile and thrall, pushing down against anything but pleasing him. The light died in his eyes and in a flatter voice, the Prefect continued. "He carved in a language none had seen into the very bedrock of the original palace for the pope to protect against all that might attack him. He said as long as he lived, the wards would stand." He focused for a second on Shane. "I guess he still lives as the wards still stand." The man fell silent and Shane fought against a headache, filing the information.
Doubt it was an angel. They don't come here anymore. Probably a Fae. They can be pretty and imposing, easy enough to convince the early Christians of their angelic origin. But it doesn't feel like Fae.
The headache pounded at him.
Whatever. Maybe magic Lewl didn't know.
He fought to refocus on the Prefect even as the pain blossomed across his skull.
"The book written by Merlin. Is it in there?"
"Yes." Jean-Louis turned and slipped on cotton gloves even as Shane fought to control him. With steps that felt like he lifted a Humvee tire, he forced the man to move through the racks and pull out an old book. Even from outside an invisible wall, Shane could see the age as the man carefully opened the book.
"Can you read it?" Shane had to force out the words as he settled on the floor, closing his eyes and letting everything else disappear.
"Of course." The slightest hint of indignation managed to slip through the thrall and lace the man's voice.
"Good. Sit and read to me." Shane didn't know how long he could hold on to this, so he pulled out his phone and set it on record. To give him something to pay attention to later. Then he focused on nothing but balancing the least amount of power he needed to hold the man and not ha
ve his brain explode.
He felt a bit of resistance from the man, but he dumped a bit more mental booze into his mind, trying to not kill either of them with the thrall. The beguilement hurt after a while, but the thrall made him feel stained inside and out the way demon blood never had and then there was the pain. He felt a trickle of blood as he tried to keep the minimum level of what he needed to keep the man reading.
Either by luck or the nature of people who loved this job, the man loved to read. His voice filling the area with the oddly rhythmic flow of the book, but Shane couldn't even figure out the words. Just focused on keeping everything going.
The man stopped, and Shane opened his eyes. The man sat there, book closed.
"You finished?" He knew the man could not lie to him.
"Yes."
"Are there any other books either written by Merlin or that mention him?" Shane couldn't figure out what he wanted the answer to be, but he wouldn't be able to come back here for a long time after this.
"Only one other that I know. A small book, almost like tales about him."
"Get it and read it to me." Shane let his eyes close as he kept a razor balance between forcing, cajoling, and befuddling the Prefect's mind.
The lilting words and the pleasure the man took from reading eased the effort needed to keep him where Shane needed him. When he fell silent Shane sighed. The pain radiated through his body so badly he didn't know if he could see, and he'd had to sop up the blood from his nose with his shirt sleeve, hoping the robes would hide the discoloration.
"Anything else?" His voice shook as he spoke.
"No, that is all that mentions Merlin."
"Good. Forget me and sleep." He changed his beguilement into drinking all night long and the feeling you get when you knew you'd had too much to drink. Your head spins and you just needed to close your eyes for a few minutes, only to wake with a head that wanted to split open.
Lucky me, he'll get the nap and I have the hangover.
