“And then,” Steven said, “I follow him to wherever he takes me, to kill Aka Manah.”
“Yes,” Victor said. “Then he’ll expect you to deliver. I’ll tell you this: your power almost certainly emerges due to an extreme mental or emotional stress, like the situation with your son. You’ll have to recreate that emotion and stress for it to emerge again. If it doesn’t come naturally, use what you remember from your son’s death to cause it to emerge. If you don’t, Aka Manah will find a way to take you, and you’ll be lost.”
Victor handed him the chain. “Don’t lose this,” he said, wrapping Steven’s fingers around it. “This is the Steven Hall chain. Since you’ve decided to go this path, this chain is your future. Follow my instructions precisely. And know that you are capable of killing this demon – Vohuman would not be making a deal like this if he didn’t believe you capable of it.”
Steven took the chain and placed it in his pocket. “Thank you, Victor,” he said.
“Are you back to Seattle now?” Victor asked.
“I guess so,” Steven said. “I want to get this over with.”
◊
Over the course of the ride home, Steven noticed that Roy changed his tune. He could tell his father knew he was going through with it, so he dropped all the objections and tried to become supportive. He was only against this for my safety, for the safety of us all, Steven thought. And probably to avoid losing another relative. Which is, I guess, what might happen. He lost a grandson, and he might lose me, too.
“You know, Dad,” Steven said, “if our roles were reversed, I’d probably feel the same way you do. I wouldn’t want you to go through with it. I get it.”
“Well, at least you understand where I’m coming from,” Roy replied. “Sometimes it seems like you’re not listening to me at all. Makes me feel useless, like you might as well have discovered the River on your own, without me. It’s not like I don’t know things.”
“Of course you do.”
“Don’t condescend. If I tell you a duck can pull a truck, I wish you’d just shut up and hook the fucker up,” Roy said.
“What does that mean?”
“It means sometimes you’re too damn obstinate for your own good.”
“I learned from the best,” Steven said.
“Eliza?” Roy said, turning to face her in the back seat of the car. “Does doing this make any goddamn sense to you?”
“He wants to avenge Jason’s death,” Eliza said, “so, yes, it does.”
“Well,” Roy said, turning back in his seat, “I’m just hoping that’s what it is, I really am, and not something worse. You’re both two to one against me, so I’ll just zip my lip and jump with the team.”
Steven knew this was about as good as it would get from Roy. His father could bend only so far before he’d break, and the older he got, the sooner he seemed to reach that point.
“When we get back to the house,” Steven said, “if Vohuman is there, I’m going right into it. Finish the deal, and follow him. I don’t know exactly what that means, but I’d appreciate it if you two would stick around and keep an eye on things, at least until it’s over.”
“We’re not going anywhere,” Roy said.
“We’ll stick around as long as it takes,” Eliza said. “Don’t worry.”
“You know, if you do this,” Roy said, “this might be our last night together.”
“I know, Dad,” Steven said. “But I have to do this. I have to end it.”
“It’s times like this I wonder if introducing you to the River was a good idea,” Roy said, “the same way you wonder if we’d done something different, would Jason still be alive. Fathers want the best for their sons. Maybe the best thing for you would have been to never have discovered this side of you. Maybe that day you came to me, convinced you had a brain tumor, I should have agreed with you.”
Steven found himself unable to reply to his father. He almost started to object, to say that his father was wrong, that showing him the River had been a good thing. But he couldn’t bring himself to say the words because he wasn’t sure he meant them. So he just let Roy’s rumination hang in the air, awkwardly awaiting a response that never came.
◊
When they reached Steven’s house, they found Vohuman in the living room once again, seated where he’d been before, dark wisps of fog swirling around his body.
“Welcome home,” Vohuman said.
“Here’s the agreement, amended,” Steven said, placing the rolled paper in front of Vohuman on the coffee table. “It subjects you to this.” He removed the chain and sat it next to the paper.
Vohuman leaned forward and picked up the chain. “You certainly stepped up your game, trading that old bitch for Victor. His work was always consistently good. And it looks like he’s still good, even in retirement. Nice chain.”
“We both need to sign the document,” Steven said, “and you need to put that chain on. Then we have a deal.”
“Do you have a pen?” Vohuman said, apparently ready to agree to the terms.
“Hold on,” Steven said, and walked into the kitchen to find a pen.
“If you pull a fast one on him,” Roy said to Vohuman while Steven was out of the room, “you’ll have an enemy for life.”
“And I believe you’ll win a prize for being the millionth one,” Vohuman replied.
“I’m not kidding,” Roy said. “I’ve got Victor and a ton of other people on my side, and I’ll make it my mission to fuck with you as much as possible.”
“Normally I’d take off your head for that,” Vohuman said, “but I’d like your son to sign this agreement, and I think he’d find a decapitated father a bit of a disincentive.”
Steven returned with a pen, and he handed it to Vohuman, who accepted it, smiling. He held open the paper and scratched his signature at the bottom, then handed the pen to Steven.
This is it, Steven thought. No going back.
He knelt down at the coffee table and signed the paper. Then he stood up and handed the chain to Vohuman, who took it and slid it onto his wrist. There was a flash, only a moment, where the fog disappeared completely from Vohuman and Steven saw hundreds of chains on both of Vohuman’s arms, evidence of Victor’s claims. The vision passed quickly and Vohuman was once again just a dark, tall man, partially obscured.
“There,” Vohuman said. “It’s done.”
“So, how does this work?” Steven asked. “What do you want me to do?”
“I presume you’re prepared to do it now?” Vohuman asked.
“I am,” Steven said, walking to Eliza and giving her a hug. She kissed him on his cheek. “You come back to us, alright? We’ll be here.”
“I will,” Steven said, then he walked to his father and extended his arms. Roy gave him a hug, and Steven realized he hadn’t hugged his father in a long, long time. He wasn’t sure what to say to Roy, so he didn’t say anything, and Roy didn’t say anything back. Eventually the hug ended, and Steven turned to Vohuman. “Ready.”
“I’m going to relocate you to his residence,” Vohuman said. “I have a spy in his employ who will tell you more once you’re there. Take this,” he said, extending his hand. In it was a two inch long tube of metal, about a quarter of an inch thick, stopped on both ends. Steven took the object. “This will allow you to approach him undetected. The rest will be up to you. I’ll warn you – he’ll try tricks to throw you off. You’ll have to stay focused, and remember to kill him the way you killed your son.”
Steven winced at the idea of invoking Jason’s death, and Vohuman saw it.
“If you hesitate and fail to go there,” Vohuman said, “he’ll be ruthless. Once he realizes it’s you, he’ll know why you’re there and then it’s just you versus him, no stalemate anymore. You’ve made the move to kill him, and he’ll respond. He’ll seize on any vulnerability you show and rip you apart. Your only hope will be to kill him first, and the only way you will do that is the same way you killed your son. If you’re suc
cessful, I’ll bring you back alive. If not, I’ll bring back your corpse so they can bury you.”
Steven gulped. “Alright,” he said. “Let’s do this.”
The fog around Vohuman increased and arms of it reached out to envelop Steven’s body. Within seconds he was completely obscured by the swirling black fog, and then moments later, the fog fell from his body, revealing his disappearance. Vohuman sat back down on the couch.
“Aren’t you going with him?” Roy asked.
“No, I’m not,” Vohuman said. “If I set foot in his residence, a dozen alarms would go off and ruin the whole plan. No, I’m staying right here until he comes back.”
Chapter Thirteen
Steven found himself in a small bedroom, expensively furnished. He felt dizzy and held out his hands to steady himself in case he fell. A man was sleeping on the bed, so Steven walked quietly around the room, observing, reaching for things to hold on to. There were small windows that had a beautiful view of a forest below and mountains in the distance. Wherever he was, it was high.
He heard the sound of the door behind him and a man slipped into the room quietly.
“I’m Caius,” the man whispered to him, walking quickly over to the sleeping man on the bed. “I’m working for Vohuman. You’re the changeling?”
“I’m Steven,” he replied. “I don’t know about a changeling.”
“You’re here to kill Aka Manah?” Caius asked.
“Yes,” Steven replied. The man removed a large hunting knife from his pocket and stabbed it into the chest of the sleeping man, who sputtered awake for a moment only to experience death.
“Hand me that glass on the table by the window,” Caius said, sliding the knife through the man, cutting him open.
Steven was stunned. It took him a moment to register what the man was asking for.
“The glass!” Caius hissed at him, insistent.
Steven walked to the table and retrieved the glass. He handed it to Caius, who took it with a bloody hand. The glass disappeared inside the stabbed man, and when it reemerged it was half full of blood.
“Did he give you the regitomb?” Caius asked.
“The what?” Steven replied, feeling lightheaded.
“A vial of powder?” Caius asked.
Steven looked at Caius, still stunned. He hadn’t yet lost his sense of dizziness.
“Vohuman was supposed to give you the regitomb before he sent you,” Caius said.
“Oh,” Steven said, feeling in his pocket. He removed the metal tube he’d stashed there just before Vohuman had transported him. “This?”
“Remove the end and pour the powder into this,” he said, extending the glass to Steven. Steven took the glass, the warm blood on its exterior transferring to his hand. He set the glass on the table and looked at the metal tube, searching for an opening. He found an edge on one end and realized it was a cap. He tried to pull it out, but it wouldn’t come. Then he tried to unscrew it, but his bloody fingers just slipped on the metal’s surface.
“Hurry!” Caius said, continuing to slice open the man. “We don’t have much time!”
Steven walked to the bed and used the sheets to wipe his fingers and the metal vial, trying to remove as much of the slippery blood as he could. Then he tried again. It spun open, and the cap fell off and dropped to the floor with a clink, rolling away. Steven bent to look for the cap.
“Forget that,” Caius said. “Pour the contents into the glass!”
Steven walked back to the table and tipped the vial over the glass. A fine white powder emerged and landed in the red blood, sitting like a spoonful of sweetener on an iced tea. As it was absorbed by the liquid, he saw the blood turn clear.
“Good,” Caius said, observing Steven’s actions as well as the dissection of the man under him. “Drink it.”
“The blood?” Steven asked.
“Yes, quickly,” Caius said.
Steven lifted the glass and looked at it. The liquid inside was clear, like water, but much thicker. As he raised it to his lips and tilted his head back, he could still smell the copper odor of blood, and the drink was still warm as he let it slide down his throat. He gagged once, then calmed himself and downed the rest of the glass.
“Now come here,” Caius said. He pulled an organ from the corpse. He held it up to Steven – it was red and slimy. “Eat.”
“Christ,” Steven said. “Do I have to?”
“Yes,” Caius said. “You have to. While you eat, I’ll explain.”
Steven took the organ from Caius. It looked like a liver, but he wasn’t sure. It was warm and squishy in his hands, and if he pressed on it too hard, it became slippery like a fish. He raised it to his mouth and bit into it, wincing. The taste was disgusting. He began to chew. If he thought about how it felt in his mouth, he knew he would gag.
“In a moment, someone will come by here and knock, telling you to follow them,” Caius said. “Make sure your hands are cleaned of that blood before they arrive. You’ll follow them, and they’ll lead you to a waiting area. You’ll be one of four people. You’ll wait until they call your name, which is Achim Fuhrmann. Repeat it.”
“Achim Fuhrmann,” Steven said around a mouth full of Achim.
“Mr. Fuhrmann has come here to make a deal with Aka Manah, as have the others you’ll be waiting with. People wait for years to see him. He puts them on a waiting list and makes them travel here, so he can intimidate them while the deal is finalized.”
“What was the deal?” Steven asked, still chewing, trying not to vomit.
“I don’t know,” Caius replied, “but Aka Manah will expect you to start negotiating, so come up with something. You have the Agimat?”
Steven suddenly panicked. What if the Agimat didn’t travel with me? He couldn’t feel it on him, and he didn’t want to touch his clothes with his bloody hands. Instead he placed the organ next to the body and walked to the restroom to wash his hands. Once they were clean, he clutched at his chest, not feeling the medallion. He reached into his collar – there was the leather necklace. He pulled at it, and the medallion, which had slipped to the side, rose into view. “Yes, I’m wearing it,” Steven said, relieved. He let it fall back under his shirt and walked back into the bedroom.
“Good. You need to be within five or six feet of him to invoke it. If you do it earlier than that, he’ll detect it and kill you before you’re close enough to kill him. The regitomb will hide you and the Agimat completely – he’ll think you’re Mr. Fuhrmann here,” Caius said, motioning to the dead body on the bed. “But the closer you get to him, and the longer it takes before you do it, the easier it will be for him to detect that something is wrong. So figure out something quickly, get close, and attack. I’ll clean up this mess so it’s not discovered before you act, and then I’m out of here, you won’t see me again. Got it?”
“Got it,” Steven said.
“You’ve still got blood on your face,” Caius said, pointing. He was beginning to wrap up the body in the bedcoverings.
Steven walked back into the bathroom. He looked in the mirror and saw a speck of blood on his right cheek. He wiped it away with a clean finger. This is it, he thought, looking at himself. He recognized himself, but changes were happening as he watched. His cheekbones rose and his hairline receded. He was slowly becoming Achim Fuhrmann. It was unnerving and a part of him wanted to stop it, to make his features return to normal. He reached for his shirt, feeling for the Agimat again, worried that the physical transformation might cause it to leave him – but it was still there.
“How long will I stay like this?” Steven asked as he walked out of the bathroom.
“About an hour,” Caius said, lifting the body off the bed and into the bathroom as Steven walked out. “They will call you first, so that should be plenty of time.”
“How do you know they’ll call me first?”
“I bribed his secretary. People feel that Aka Manah is more generous and easier to deal with at the start of these sessions, so go
ing first you’re more likely to get what you want. They pay people here to pass bribes around for a better position in line.”
There was a knock at the door.
“Good luck,” Caius said, pulling the bathroom door closed.
Steven walked to the door and opened it. A young man dressed in a tuxedo said, “We’re ready, Mr. Fuhrmann, if you’ll follow me.” Steven stepped out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him. He followed the young man through the halls of a huge mansion. Maybe a castle, he thought. I wonder what country I’m in? He recognized the tapestries from his brief travel experience with the Agimat – this was Aka Manah’s home, the place where he felt the most comfortable, his center of power. As he followed the tuxedoed young man, he felt like a prisoner being walked to the gallows.
◊
“Mr. Thorgensen?” a bespectacled man said quietly into the antechamber. “We’re ready for you, Mr. Thorgensen.”
An ashen-faced man with a large pot belly pushed himself up and out of his seat across from where Steven was standing. He walked slowly toward the voice of the bespectacled man, through a set of large double doors, and was gone.
I thought I was going first, Steven wondered.
The two other men in the room with him seemed content to mind their own business, not interested in chatting. One was sitting, staring out a window, and the other was standing, pacing. Steven decided to stand and inspect a shelf of books. He didn’t want to remove one and draw attention to himself, so he just inspected the spines. Their titles were in a foreign language he couldn’t read.
After what must have been ten minutes or so, he wandered to the windows to look out over the landscape. This must be a castle, he thought, seeing one side of the building from this view, and realizing its height was many stories above his current vantage point.
The Diablo Horror (The River Book 7) Page 14
