A Summoner's Tale - The Vampire's Confessor (Black Swan 3)

by Danann, Victoria

  Heaven was indicating more agitation.

  "Let's take a moment and breathe deeply. All is well in the present. You are no longer Helena. You are Heaven McBride, here viewing your life with Istvan Baka, as Helena. But you are not reliving that life. You are safe and comfortable. Nothing will harm you."

  Rue paused. Heaven's breathing slowed and she appeared to grow calm

  "Excellent. You will remain relaxed knowing that nothing can harm you. Nod if you understand."

  Heaven nodded, but did not open her eyes.

  "Where did Helena live?"

  "Romania. In the mountains. We lived in a nice cottage near the monastery where he worked. The hearth had a good draft. The walls had a good seal."

  "Were you happy in your life as Helena?"

  "Yes. I was glad to not have to work for my father any longer and I liked being there with my husband and his children."

  "I see. What did you do for your father?"

  "I served food and drink at the inn and also prepared rooms for travelers."

  "How did you meet Istvan Baka?"

  "He came to Bucharest with the Cozio monks and stayed at the inn. I wanted him to be interested in me, but he was shy and didn't believe I liked him in that way. He was sure he was too old for me and thought I would find life on his mountain dull. I was able to persuade him that he was the one I wanted, so the monks bought me for him."

  Rue and Song exchanged a shocked look.

  "Bought you?"

  "Yes."

  "Were you a slave?" Heaven was silent. Rue rephrased the question. "What do you mean when you say the monks bought you?"

  "My father didn't want to give me up without a dowry because he would have to pay my replacement when I left. So the monks offered a sum of money to let me go."

  "Alright. Let's move forward in time a little now. How did Helena's lifetime with Istvan Baka end?"

  Heaven's eyes flew open for a split second and her mouth formed a silent scream of terror.

  "Be at ease. You are safe and comfortable here with me. Nothing can harm you. You see images of the past, but you will not feel them or relive them. Just report what you see. Set the feelings aside."

  That seemed to calm her enough to continue.

  "He did not come home, but Istvan was not the sort of man who didn't come home. He was a good man in every way. I didn't sleep that night. The next day when the sun came up, I left Stavna watching Nikos and went to search for him. I didn't find him. The next day I went to search for him again. I was attacked. And I died."

  "How did you die?"

  "Monster."

  Rue looked at Song while asking the next question. "What sort of monster?"

  "The sort that old women whisper about with aprons covering their mouths. One of the children of Vlad."

  "Vampire?"

  "Yes."

  "Thank you, Heaven. You will remain calm and detached as you answer my questions. Did you know the vampire who attacked you?"

  "Yes."

  Heaven seemed passive, but not at peace. Tears were running down her cheeks.

  "You will report the events, but you will not experience any distress or any pain. You see a picture of what happened, but do not feel unpleasant feelings." Rue paused for a minute. "Was your husband infected with the vampire virus?"

  She nodded.

  Rue and Aelsong looked at each other meaningfully. Song scribbled something fast on a piece of paper and held it up for Rue to read.

  "Heaven, are you angry with Istvan Baka?"

  "Yes."

  "Was he your attacker?"

  "Yes."

  Song hurriedly penned a follow up question.

  "Do you still love Istvan Baka?"

  "Yes."

  "I would like to ask your Higher Self if there is something about this information that could be useful in finding Baka."

  Heaven's face relaxed and her features seemed to be slightly altered because of holding the muscles differently. When she spoke, she sounded like someone else, a different personality. "Not finding. Freeing."

  "Freeing?" Rue looked at Song and shook her head to indicate cluelessness.

  Song wrote hurriedly and held up a paper. "Has Baka been captured?"

  "Yes."

  "And you can help with this?"

  "Heaven will help."

  "What does she need to do?" There was a long pause. Heaven sat up and faced them, but her eyes remained closed. "Does Heaven need to tell us something?"

  "She can free the vampire. Her special gift will help set his body free. Her forgiveness will free his soul."

  "Why did you call him vampire? He's been cured of the virus."

  Heaven shook her head back and forth slowly. "Vampire. Again."

  Aelsong's hand flew to her mouth and she teared up instantly. Poor Baka. He was a beautiful man and a generous, capable lover. She liked him immensely and couldn't imagine him as one of those sadistic things. Being cured only to be reinfected. It would be hard to imagine something worse.

  Heaven gasped, opened her eyes wide, and looked around like she was disoriented. Her first reaction, after remembering where she was and what she'd been doing, was concern about the way Song and Rue were watching her.

  Rue turned to Song. "Did you get it?"

  Song nodded and tried to hide the swell of emotion. "Got it right here." She held up her intelliphone indicating the recording that had just been made.

  Heaven looked troubled. "Was it something bad?"

  "No. No' at all," Song said. "'T`was very helpful. Take a minute to clear your head and we'll share with you."

  "If it wasn't bad, then why do you look like you're about to cry?"

  "Somethin' in my eye. Mascara most likely. Would you like a tea?"

  Doing a quick systems assessment, Heaven realized she had the dull feeling of being emotionally drained. "I would love a tea."

  Song looked at Rue. "I owe you, Boston. I'll take it from here."

  Rue narrowed her eyes. "Not on your life, Irish. I'm staying tuned for the next episode of this soap opera."

  "No' very professional."

  Rue arched her eyebrows and barked out a laugh. "Oh, yeah? And who's gonna tell?"

  Song screwed up her face. "Okay. You can stay if you go get her a tea. On second thought, make it two."

  "Coming right up. But do not say anything while I'm gone." Song rolled her eyes. "What do you want in your tea?"

  "Three brown sugars and honey," Heaven answered.

  Rue looked her up and down. "Whoa. Going for the curvy look, are we?"

  Song said, "Shut it or find your Yankee ass locked on t'other side of that door."

  "Okay. Okay. Just kidding."

  "Honey, no sugar," said Song.

  Rue cut her eyes at Song with a hint of mischief."Sure, sugar, but don't call me honey."

  "Out!"

  Song was emphatic enough to get February moving toward the door saying, "Geez. Grummmpy pants."

  When Rue left, Song turned toward Heaven. "Feelin' okay?"

  "Um, yes." She glanced around. "You're not really going to make me wait until she gets back are you? I've got to know if you got something useful?"

  "Aye."

  "Why were you crying?"

  "Was no'."

  "Why were you about to cry?"

  "Heaven, in a few minutes February will be back with nice, inconceivably sweet tea and we will all three go over what we learned. Together."

  "Is it going to be okay? At least tell me that."

  "I believe so."

  "You're tight lipped for Irish, aren't you?"

  Song just smiled thinking that was something she had never expected to be said about her. "We recorded the session. I would like to play it for you and hear your reaction."

  Heaven started to ask something, but there was a thump, thump, thump on the door. It was Rue using her foot to kick the door since both hands were occupied carrying a cardboard tray of hot spillable beverages. They settled in and got c
omfortable to listen to the play back.

  To the two witnessing the event, it was evident from watching Heaven's face that she was shocked to hear her own voice recall a lifetime during which she had loved Baka and been murdered by the disease that took over his body.

  From Heaven's point of view, it was a lot to take in. She had the passing thought that she should have gone to work for Skeptics Destroy Superstition instead of The Order of the Black Swan. She could hardly deny that such things were possible, considering the nature of the work she had chosen.

  When the recording was finished, Song turned off her intelliphone and waited. When no one spoke for a time, finally she said, "Heaven, what is the special gift?"

  Heaven looked at her for a long time with a blank expression. "There's nothing unique about me, is there? I mean, there might be something unique, but believe me, no one would ever call it a gift. More like a curse."

  Rue took on her professional manner and tone of voice. "Heaven, sometimes guides or life forms from other realities see things differently. Their perspective comes from a big picture view that we don't have access to. For us it complicates their messages and makes them seem like puzzles or even riddles.

  "If you have a unique ability, tell us about it. We don't have to label it good or bad for now. And you can consider this strictly confidential. It doesn't leave the room unless you say so."

  Heaven studied her. "It's not a lot of fun to talk about. In fact, it's embarrassing in a way."

  "Go on."

  "I grew up in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne. Not that far from here really.

  "When I was in primary school, the state curriculum took on music education because neuroscientists had discovered that children who play musical instruments can think better or some such thing. The implementation took a couple of years, but by the time I was twelve, when I started secondary school, they were encouraging pupils to take up an instrument.

  "The first day of music class we were to be evaluated by an expert who was supposedly there to tell us what instruments would fit us. All the instruments had been set out at the head of the classroom. On my way in I passed by them and sort of looked them over.

  "I thought they were all very attractive in their own way. But the silver flute... it was on top of a blood red, velvet cloth and it sort of, I don't know, called to me?

  "The expert said the perfect instrument for me was French horn, but I didn't want to play the French horn. I wanted to play the flute. He smirked in that way that adults do when they think children are very stupid and said, 'All little girls want to play the flute, but that doesn't mean the flute wants to be played by you. The French horn is a much better choice.'

  "I insisted on playing flute and, being insistent in that way, was uncharacteristic for me. There was an argument - of sorts - and my mother was called to the office of the headmaster. I explained that I was supposed to play the flute. My mother asked about my use of the phrase 'supposed to'. I had no explanation for why I had said that, but I was convicted that it was the truth nonetheless.

  "Since I was not known for making trouble, my mother decided to advocate for me. She asked the music teacher what harm could come from letting me try the flute. The teacher responded that I would never be eligible to play with the London symphony if I chose an instrument that was ill suited for me. My mother seemed amused by that, but was diplomatic enough to not laugh outright.

  "She said that, rather than leaping ahead to a possible, but highly unlikely career with the London symphony, perhaps it would be more practical to allow me to play an instrument that caught my fancy. That way I would still get some benefit from the subject matter. She argued that I would be more likely to dedicate myself to learning an instrument I loved than one that was simply foisted upon me against my will.

  "Because of my mother's persistence, and for that reason alone, the music teacher finally agreed to let me try with the stipulation that my family would have to purchase the instrument. My mother agreed and I never loved her more.

  "That afternoon we went to a pawnbroker who was known to sell used musical instruments. He looked at me, smiled, asked us to wait, and disappeared into the rear of the store behind a heavy curtain. He returned with a case which he set on the counter. He looked at me, smiled again, and opened it. There inside, in three pieces, was, I thought, the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

  "He asked if I liked it, but he already knew the answer. He told my mother it was a very nice Gemeinhardt flute. Top of the line. Practically new and needing no work or repair. It had been turned in by someone needing cash quickly and they had not been back to claim it.

  "My mother asked the price. He looked at me again and said fifty pounds. My mother turned to me and said that I had that much in my savings bank and that she would allow me to use it for the purchase if I was certain that is what I truly wanted. I said, yes, that I wanted that flute more than anything else in the world. She opened her purse, counted out the pound notes, handed them to the gentleman, and he handed me the case. I remember when we left I was cradling it in my arms like a baby.

  "The next day I took my treasure to school. When I opened the case, I thought the music teacher got a mean look on his face. He wanted to know what I was doing with an instrument like that. I remember asking, 'Like what?' He said the flute that I had brought to school as a first time, learner's instrument was a two-thousand-pound masterpiece intended to be played by a virtuoso.

  "That meant nothing to me at the time. I was a child and not overly concerned with the price of things.

  "He showed me how to put the three pieces together, how to hold it, and how to form my lips into the proper armature. Then he moved on to help the next pupil with a new instrument.

  "So I held the flute the way he said and made a little hole with my lips the way he said. Then I blew across the mouth hole and experimented with the keys. At some point I realized that everyone had stopped and was staring at me.

  "It seemed I could play the flute. I didn't know any particular tune to play, but the sounds I made were pure and sweet. I shall never forget the look on the music teacher's face.

  "Later that day I told my mother what had been said about the Gemeinhardt flute being two thousand pounds. She said she was sure he was mistaken. He wasn't. I still have it, although I can never play it again. It's worth even more today."

  Heaven looked down at her cup and out the window. "Sorry to be presumptuous, but do you think I might trouble you for another cup of tea?"

  Song and Rue looked at each other.

  Rue said, "Your turn."

  Song said, "Same deal. No talkin'.

  "Done."

  "Aye, then, who wants what?"

  The room got very quiet when Aelsong left. The Hawkings have a way of filling up space like they have more life force than other people. After they left the change was always noticed..

  "So, February, how did you come to this line of work?"

  Rue sighed. "When I was about thirteen, I guess the clinical way of describing that would be post-pubescent, I started seeing peoples' past lives all around them."

  Heaven was intrigued. "I've never heard of that before. You mean you saw who they had been."

  "Yeah. Women, men, children, the works. Maybe not every life they had ever lived, but the ones that had made an impact for better or worse. It just looked like other people standing around them except they weren't solid, sort of filmy hazy."

  "Seems like it would be hard to have a normal conversation if you were seeing a person as a kind of mismatched group."

  Rue laughed in that open, all-out, American sort of way. "Yes. You get it! That's a pretty good description of what it was like. It tanked my social life. People would always be saying things to me like, 'Are you listening?' or 'What are you looking at?'

  "I'd be trying to concentrate on what somebody was saying, but one of their damn past lives would be trying to get my attention and give them a message.

  "If I said, 'sit down and shut up',
well, you can imagine what sort of reaction that would get."

  Heaven was intrigued and sympathetic at the same time. "Do you still see that?"

  Rue shook her head. "No. Not for years."

  "It just went away?"

  "Gods no. Getting rid of it took a lot of work and help from a non-corporeal guide, I eventually learned to just see the person, alone, as they present themselves in their current lifetime. But by the time I didn't see the past lives anymore, I was hooked on the subject. Who knows? Maybe that was the point of throwing that particular challenge my way.

  "When I started using the traditional methods, I found I had some talent for getting people to open up the deep about who, what, where. You'd be surprised how much baggage we already have the day we're born."

  "Hmmm. I never thought about it. So tell me about some of the juicy ones."

  "Everybody wants the juice." Rue smiled like she'd been asked that before. "Sex juice or crime juice?"

  "I, ah, wow, you choose."

  Rue's stories were fascinating and entertaining. Song's foot thumped the door before Heaven was ready to relinquish the storyteller.

  A round of fresh caffeine was distributed to all.

  "Now where were we? Oh. I was about to ask why you do no', or you said can no', play your flute?"

  "That's the crux of the 'gift'." She 'air quoted' gift with one hand. "That night, at home, I took the flute out and found that I could play any melody I recalled. My mum and da had this look about them that said it was more scary than good. I admit even I knew it was unusual, but I loved playing and thought, 'What could be wrong in that?'

  "We had music instruction for one class period every day. I didn't reveal my ability because something told me that everyone would look at me the way my parents had. So I pretended to struggle with learning a note or two.

  "As the year progressed, the others began to learn the basics and sometimes the result almost sounded like music instead of... well, I don't want to be mean, but it wasn't good.

  "After Yule holiday, we were given some music and told that we were going to perform a Spring program at Beltane for our parents and friends with the other music classes. By that time we had learned to read simple sheet music, at least as it applied to our respective instruments. I took the music home and played it perfectly the first time, albeit quietly. I had learned to more or less pretend to play. I called it flute whispering." Heaven smiled faintly like she was experiencing a good sense memory.