Children of Shadows

by Naylor, Joleene

  He handed it off and a second guard lifted her useless arm and jabbed the needle into the soft skin at the inside of her elbow. It hurt for only a moment, like Jorick’s fangs, but the pain was replaced by a burning sensation that moved up her arm to her shoulder.

  No! No! No!

  Suddenly she could move. She pulled away from the guards and knocked aside the surprised Scharfrichter. The room tilted and spun, and she stumbled and grabbed the wall for support.

  “They said she can fight off mental attacks,” one of the guards was saying, but his voice sounded strange in her ears.

  No! No! No!

  “It is a drug,” a voice whispered in her mind. “You cannot resist. But do not fear. I will come for you.”

  “Jorick.”

  She fell to her knees and looked up at the collection of pale faces. The red of their uniforms smeared and blurred, and then faded into blackness.

  Chapter Seven

  It was a blue mist; a dark, electric blue that pulsed with thought. Katelina touched the edges of it and felt tingles reverberate through her.

  “Perhaps it’s best.”

  The words echoed in her mind, but they left no peace behind as they had in other dreams.

  “Better to follow?”

  This was a dream too, after all.

  “Perhaps.”

  Wasn’t it?

  The dream faded and she blinked against a blurry world. Her body was numb, and her eyes didn’t want to focus. Gray walls became clear and then fuzzy. She was aware of motion; being carried?

  Voices slogged through her ears, “She’s waking.”

  “She’s had too much blood. It’s made her resistant. They’ll need something stronger.”

  Stronger than what?

  The motion ceased. A shiny wall was before her. Lights glowed in a box at the side, their halos bright like a Christmas tree through a frosty window. The wall slid open. No, not a wall, a door. Inside it was too bright, and she squinted. A blurry figure waited, then exchanged a few foreign words. A gurney gleamed silver and they dropped her on it. She tried to move, but her limbs were too heavy. Blackness pressed at the corner of her eyes and won.

  The screams brought her back. There was motion again, but she was lying down. Her head lolled to the side with effort and she saw the bars, like metal cages. Figures hunched inside; naked skin, jutting bones, furious eyes.

  The bars disappeared. The screams grew louder. A new room, a new place. Someone was strapped to a silver table. Figures in white ringed it like phantoms. Something was wrong with the figure’s head. Something… Katelina concentrated, fought against the sucking emptiness, and for a moment her vision cleared. The scalp was peeled back, bone removed, and the naked bloody brain looked ready to fall out onto the floor. Slender silver sticks stabbed out in various directions like a macabre pincushion. One of the phantoms in white pulled on the pins, pressing, pushing, adjusting, and the figure flopped soundlessly.

  Katelina wanted to panic, but she couldn’t. Like her body, her feelings were numb, and the images made no sense. The scream came again, but not from their victim. In the next room she saw its source: a chained woman who writhed on the tiled floor. Someone else in white stood by, watching, making notes.

  Dungeon, her mind whispered. Dark age experiments.

  Jorick.

  Where was Jorick?

  The motion stopped. Another room. Too many lights. The tile floor was brown, like blood left too long, and the walls were white with silver shelves. There was a bed. Long flapping straps hung down like evil red tongues, waiting to wrap around her. Would they peel off her skin, too?

  The edges blurred, and she noticed someone in white at her side. They held a syringe and she watched the needle disappear into her arm. Something stronger.

  The screams pulsed in her ears, joined by a second voice; two of them screaming together in concert. No. She didn’t want to be there. She needed to get away. To run. But where was there to go?

  Where is Jorick?

  Footsteps on tile. The blackness wavered at the edges of her vision and called her back. She struggled as a new voice echoed disjointed words from the foot of the gurney, “—master refuses to cooperate… trouble… release…”

  The white phantom answered, “Why can’t they handle it like usual?”

  “I don’t know… orders…”

  An irritated sigh. A distorted face peered into hers with dark angry eyes. “They’re missing an amazing opportunity.”

  And then the blackness was back.

  Katelina woke with a jolt, a scream trapped in her throat, but the alertness melted into grogginess. She blinked against her smeary vision and slowly an unfamiliar room came into focus. White walls and a metal grate on the ceiling. She rolled her head to the side to see what looked like medical equipment; a monitor, cables, an empty IV pole. With a groan she rolled her head the other direction to see three empty beds and a closed door.

  A memory slithered through her consciousness: a phantom in white with a clipboard. A bleeding brain. It was a horror movie, and she was trapped in it.

  She couldn’t find her terror, only sloppy wisps of urgency that melted into nothing. Why was she in a horror movie? What had she done? She wiped at her face and tried to remember. They were… they were at the beach. No. They’d gone to the stronghold in Munich. And then?

  And then the images slotted into place. The Höher Rat, the lockdown, Micah, the guards, and finally her desperate, mad dash. The cages and the torture chamber.

  Jorick. Where is Jorick?

  As if in answer, she was aware of an angry voice shouting beyond the room. She focused until she could understand the words.

  “—see her now! This is ridiculous! I am her master, I own her!”

  There he was, but they wouldn’t let him in. No visitors allowed in the dungeon. Though she wondered why he didn’t use his power of persuasion. Had he found someone who was resistant to it? That had to be annoying.

  Someone else spoke, their voice lower. “I’ve already told you, you’re forbidden for the time being. I ask you once more to stop or I will call the office and have you escorted from here.”

  “Make all the calls you want, I’ve had enough!” The door jerked open and Jorick stood in the doorway, one foot ready to step inside, like a freeze frame. His face was alive with rage and his hand was wadded into an indignant fist. Behind him stood Wolfe, his expression smooth and cool.

  She could see beyond them, to a room with the wrong colored tile. Not bloody brown but white.

  “I’ve warned you, Jorick,” Wolfe said. “Don’t make the situation worse.”

  Jorick didn’t answer, only strode inside. Katelina struggled to sit up as he stopped next to her bed and caught her hand. “Are you all right?” His voice was gentle, but his eyes flashed anger.

  “No,” she wanted to scream, but her dry mouth wouldn’t work right. “Dungeon,” she croaked.

  “It’s all right, little one,” Jorick soothed. “Or it will be soon.” He glared over his shoulder at Wolfe, who‘d followed him in.

  Something moved through the Scharfrichter’s eyes; pity or perhaps understanding. It disappeared as quickly as it had come and he said coldly, “You have three minutes and then I will request back up.”

  He slammed the door and Jorick turned back to Katelina. His dark eyes traced her face and ran over her body, as if checking to make sure everything was where it should be. He took a deep breath, struggling for words. “What happened? What did he do?”

  “The dungeon. Jorick, we have to get out of here. I saw what they’re doing. I saw his brain.”

  “What? Whose brain? What did Micah do?”

  “Not Micah. The guards. They brought me here, to the dungeon. I tried to escape. I tried.”

  Jorick stroked her cheek soothingly. “You’re not in the dungeon, little one, you’re in the infirmary. They said there was a disturbance. That Micah had been arrested and you were here.”

  “I saw it!”
she cried with as much force as she could muster. “I saw what they’re doing!”

  Jorick’s eyebrows shot up in alarm, and she felt him peering into her mind, sifting through memories for the truth. It was over in an instant, and he was left with an expression torn between pity and anger. “That was a dream, Katelina. I swear to you, this is the infirmary.” He took a deep breath. “They weren’t taking you to the dungeon, only relocating us. What were you and Micah thinking? You should’ve shut the door and refused to speak to them until I arrived.”

  “We tried to shut the door. They forced their way in.”

  He searched her mind again and then nodded. “Yes. I see. But right or wrong, Micah will have to stand trial before the Lesser Council – or whatever they call them.” He glanced to the door, as if he could hear Wolfe thinking beyond it. Katelina realized he probably could. “And they plan to arrest you.”

  The words cut through the film of numbness and she tightened her hold on his hand. Would they send her back there?

  “Don’t worry. They won’t do anything until the doctor has cleared you, so there’s time.” Jorick’s smile was meant to be comforting, but it melted into worry. “I need to see some people, so I’ll have to leave you here.” His voice dropped as though he was talking to himself, “I could get Oren to come, but I don’t know if he’d be able to withstand them. Loren certainly couldn’t, though he’d try. There’s the idiot, but I don’t trust him.”

  “Verchiel’s all right. He hasn’t tried to eat me or anything.”

  “Hasn’t he?” Jorick muttered. She blinked at him blankly and he relented. “Never mind. He may be the best of a bad lot. I’m going to go, all right? I’ll send the idiot down here. If they try to move you, remind them of the law: Your master must be present before they can do anything to or with you. Do you understand? I know you object to being ‘someone’s human’, but for once, embrace it.”

  “If it keeps me from the dungeon I can be your property for a little while.”

  “There is no dungeon.” He kissed her and moved towards the door. “I’ll be back.” He hesitated at the threshold, a mixture of reluctance and regret on his face. Then, with an air of resolution, strode out.

  She dropped back into the bed and let her eyes roam the room. A television was bolted to the wall, scrolling muted images, but she had no remote. It was a metaphor for her life; images and events flashing by and as usual she had no way of controlling the volume or the channel. She was a weak outsider, caught up in something beyond her understanding.

  The door opened and closed so fast that Katelina barely noticed before Verchiel was next to the bed, and a mocking expression of reprimand on his face. “Tsk, tsk, Kately. Leave you alone for five minutes and you get yourself and the big lug arrested!” He broke into a grin. “Ah, Jorick will get you both out. Though running wasn’t very smart.”

  “Better than the dungeon.”

  “What dungeon?”

  She started to explain and then waved it away. “Never mind. Jorick said it was a dream.” A vivid dream.

  “With all the drugs they gave you, you probably had a lot of really trippy dreams.” Verchiel winked then dropped onto the neighboring bed.

  She struggled to sit up, though she’d rather go back to sleep. “Does Wolfe know you’re here?”

  “Let’s say he was distracted and I slipped past.” His voice dropped to an exaggerated whisper, “He’s not a mind reader, so I doubt he’s noticed me. I wonder what he’ll do if he does?”

  She had no answer and her eyes drifted to the TV. It looked like a news channel, complete with a rolling ticker of headlines. Unrest in the Middle East, a political summit was scheduled for somewhere or other, and a terrorist group had taken the credit for the bombings in Sivas, Turkey, calling themselves the Children of Shadows.

  “Did you see that?” Katelina motioned toward the television. “Turn on the sound.”

  “What? More trippy hallucinations?” He fetched a remote control from the nightstand and the room echoed with a British newscaster talking about Greece.

  Katelina sank back into the bed. “It said the Children of Shadows was a terrorist group.”

  Verchiel cocked a ridiculous red eyebrow. “Who did?”

  “It was on the little ticker tape. You know, scrolling along the bottom.”

  “Oh. They don’t talk about the topics at the bottom. If they did, they wouldn’t bother feeding them into the secondary string.” He squinted at the television and, sure enough, the headline scrolled past again. “I’ll be damned.”

  “I told you. Why would a vampire group be on the news?”

  “We do inhabit the same world. There’s bound to be overlap.”

  “But why does Samael need them? You saw him in the cave. He made Traven’s head explode with just a thought. Someone that powerful doesn’t need an army.”

  He rolled over to face her. “Who knows? Tell me why Samael gave you blood.”

  Even in her disconnected state she didn’t want to talk about that. “If you’re going to be stupid you can go. I bet you could find some other woman to aggravate. You said something about pretty bits yesterday.”

  He mock pouted. “Aww, are you jealous?” Then he broke into laughter. “Don’t worry, dear little Kately, you’ll always have a special place in my—”

  “Why would I be jealous? You’re being as weird as Jorick.” She closed her eyes and leaned toward the sucking darkness “Why don’t you go talk to Ume? She’d be happy to see you.”

  “That’s okay. Jorick asked me to stay here.”

  Katelina opened her eyes to see him looking uncomfortable. “I bet you think she’s an ex-girlfriend who wants to marry you.”

  Verchiel rolled onto his back and sighed. “No, I know who she is. I saw it in the blonde’s mind when we took them on the plane.”

  “You mean Quenly, no, Quenby?” He nodded and she asked, “If you know, why are you still running away. You should be excited.”

  “What am I supposed to say?” he demanded, as close to angry as she had ever seen him. It was interesting in a strange way. “She’s looking for a joyful reunion, but I don’t have one for her. I don’t know her, I don’t remember her, and I don’t have anything to offer her. If it’s even true, the best thing she could do is forget it.”

  “She’s your sister. You can’t turn your back on family.”

  “Says who? Everyone else does.” He was on his feet so fast that she missed the motion and stood with his back to her. “When Jorick turns you, are you going to make your mother immortal? And when you don’t, how many nights will you spend regretting the loss? How eager are you for the guilt?”

  “I don’t—”

  “Understand? Of course you do.” He turned around and offered her a sad, lopsided smile. “Guilt is all Ume has for me. I left her behind, apparently, and didn’t know or care. And I have nothing for her. No apologies, no epic quest to find her, nothing to soothe the wrong. Better to ignore it and part amicably.”

  “Life doesn’t work like that. You can’t run away from every uncomfortable situation.”

  “Listen to you! The human lecturing me on life? It’s almost cute.” He ruffled her hair, which earned him an attempted glare. “She doesn’t know how to bring it up, or she’d have already done it. And I don’t like the name Aki. It sounds like a snack food for kids. ‘Can I have some aki-aki, Mom?’ See?”

  “When you say it like that, it sounds like the name of a poodle.”

  “Same difference.” He grinned as she slowly figured out the joke and then he turned serious. “Fine, I’ll talk to her, but remember, I did warn you.”

  He perked up and all signs of seriousness disappeared. “Grumpy boots is back, and he’s feeling smug.”

  They listened as Jorick demanded that Wolfe let him in. There was a moment of silence, and then the door opened and Jorick strode through, a piece of paper in his hand.

  “Good news, I take it?” Verchiel asked.

  “In a way
.” Jorick stopped next to Katelina’s bed. “They’ve agreed not to arrest you for the moment. Tomorrow we have to go before the Lesser Council, and they’ll have an inquiry, but no doubt it will come to nothing. I already pointed out that their guards broke the law by doing anything without my consent.”

  She wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or insulted. “Why are they having an inquiry?”

  Jorick snorted. “If you thought The Guild was rife with red tape and bureaucratic nonsense then you have no idea how this place works. I have to hand it to Malick, he was onto something by cutting half of it out and being a dictator. At least things got done faster.”

  “It helped that he always favored you,” Verchiel suggested. Jorick gave him a dark look and the redhead bowed. “It seems my purpose has been served.” He disappeared and reappeared in front of the door. “Adios!” And then he was gone.

  The sun was already up when the doctor released Katelina, or so she supposed by the empty halls.

  As Jorick had said, they were relocated to a room deeper in the stronghold. The plus side was it was bigger. There were two bedrooms, one with a bed and one with a pair of coffins, a sitting room, and a bathroom as luxurious as the previous one. Instead of red the main color was green, though the same style of gilt framed paintings hung on the walls.

  The size of the room wasn’t the only thing that was increased. So was the feeling of someone prying, reading, watching; the heavy sensation brought on by the proximity of the ancient Kugsankal.

  Katelina was still groggy from whatever they’d given her. Though the doctor had explained it to Jorick, she hadn’t cared enough to listen. She struggled out of her clothes and didn’t bother with pajamas. Her underwear was good enough. Jorick watched her with concern, but didn’t say anything until they were both snuggled into bed, and then it was only, “Good night, little one.”

  She wasn’t sure if she answered.

  Jorick woke her the next evening. Her head hurt, and her limbs ached, but otherwise she was fine. The grogginess had finally lifted and she could see the world for what it was.

  Not that that was a good thing.