by James Moore
Enjoying the gentle breeze and pleasant weather, Kurt had one of Lady Anne’s servants give him directions to a pond on the Bexborough estate, and there he waited for Zho. He did not have to wait long before the mage showed himself. The mage’s face was haggard, and Kurt suspected that lack of sleep was not the only thing taking a toll on the man who’d been so helpful in his quest to keep track of Use Decameron. Zho sat down on one of the stone benches that surrounded the pond at sporadic intervals and nodded his greeting before closing his eyes for a moment.
When he looked up again, he seemed far more in control of himself and his surroundings. “Hello, Kurt. You must forgive me if I am late, please. I’ve been very busy.”
“Certainly, Thadius. But there is nothing to apologize for. I’ve only just arrived myself."
“How is Ms. Therman tonight?” Zho sounded concerned enough, but Kurt felt the answer was no more important than his response would be if the sorcerer had asked him his thoughts on whether or not it would rain soon.
“Better. Physically at least.” Kurt’s smile felt tight on his face. Jackie was better, her wounds healed by the infusion of giant’s blood that he had given her, even though it was diluted by his own blood. But the haunted look had not left her eyes, and Kurt feared it might never leave. There was still a strain between them, one that had never existed before. He believed that Jackie felt that he had failed her in some way, and he knew the psychic wounds would be a long time in healing. “I fear she may take some time to recuperate completely from her experiences. I think she’d have healed faster if she could have killed the Beast last night.”
“I can respect that.” The mage smiled.
Kurt studied him, looking past the calm exterior and trying to see what the man truly was behind his calm facade. “I have no doubt you can, Thadius. I suspect that you, too, are vindictive. At least when it suits your purposes.”
“We all have our faults, Kurt. Some of us have more than others."
“From what I’ve seen so far, my good man, the worst flaw you suffer from is Chamas." He smiled to take the sting from his words.
Zho threw his head back and laughed heartily. “You’re closer to right than you know, Kurt. He’s a burden and a half when he wants to be.” He stared at Kurt with his one good eye, a wistful smile on his face. “And he almost always wants to be."
“Why do you put up with his insolence?”
Zho shrugged, his face moving back into more familiar territory as he stopped smiling and grew intense and
thoughtful. “He has his uses, and after two hundred years together, I’ve come to view him with something rather like friendship.”
“One would think the friendship of a demon could be a dangerous thing.”
Zho looked away then, his face once again moving into unfamiliar expressions. Regret and sorrow. “Not necessarily. When you’ve already sold your soul, there is little else that can be taken away.”
“Why?”
“Excuse me?"
“Why? Why did you sell you soul to Charnas?" Kurt hoped the man didn’t take offense. Angering a mage could be hazardous to his life expectancy; he could almost feel the sun’s rays burning him in his mind even as he asked the question.
Zho stood up, walking slowly to the water’s edge and plucking several loose stones from the shoreline. Kurt remained silent while he watched the mage wander for a few more minutes, returning only when he had a large supply of fairly flat rocks to choose from. He set the stones on the bench between them, sorting through them until he found one that suited his purposes. He threw the stone with an underhand toss, watching with some satisfaction as it skimmed the top of the pond several times before finally sinking to the bottom. Kurt smiled, delighted by the idea. It had been years since he’d taken the time for such trivialities. Zho offered a stone, and he accepted, joining the mage in skipping rocks across the pond’s surface. They sat in silence for several minutes, the only sound being the delicate splashes of the rocks on the water, before Zho answered Kurt’s question.
“Why did I sell my soul...Let’s ponder the implications of selling one’s soul, my friend, and then we can discuss what would provoke such an action. In selling one’s soul, you surrender any possibility of Heaven, assuming that any such place exists in this world or any other. For the sake of argument we’ll say that Heaven and all that it implies is indeed an actual location or state of being. Eternal life, no war or pain or suffering, just happiness everywhere. If one were to assume that good deeds and good thoughts were responsible for reaching such a paradise, there is the possibility that I was not of a mind to believe I would go there. Perhaps I’d already committed several sins before considering placing my soul on the auction block. Perhaps there was a chance of redemption, but a small one, not much of an opportunity at all. In consideration of this, the certainty of power and an expanded life cycle would almost be worth eternal damnation." He stopped speaking, his face gone dreamy and a little sad. Kurt suspected that Zho had indeed committed a few sins in his time, but opted to listen for a while, saving any speeches or questions for later.
“Just the same, what good is a little power, when the price is eternal suffering? Mind you, this assumes that Hell is as real as Heaven and filled with suffering and strife. What could provoke a man to surrender his eternal soul in exchange for something as fleeting as power and a few centuries of borrowed time? Let’s think about this.” He held up his right hand in a loose fist and with his left started bending the fingers back, marking each potential reason with one lifted finger. “The love of a good woman? Would that be enough? Yes, there are several mages I know who have sold themselves to the darker forces for just that reason. But that was not my reason. Money? Not in my case. I could have had as much as I wanted and was already very wealthy, even by today’s standards. More power? No, not enough would be offered to make it worth my while. Immortality? I knew vampires even then, Kurt. I could have become one at any given point. No, immortality was simply not enough. So what does that leave? Security. Yes, I think that would be a good enough reason. I sold my soul to Charnas, the Lord of Misrule, for security.”
“I don’t understand."
“Be patient, and I will explain." He paused again, staring out at the waters and tossing another stone. The flat rock skipped twice before flipping sideways and cutting into the water with nary a splash to mark its passage. “I sold my soul because I had no soul of my own to sell. Don’t ask — I'll explain in my own way.
“I was born to a long line of mages, a family where at least one person from every generation learned magick at an early age. That was the way it had always been in my family for centuries and centuries. Sometimes from father to son, sometimes from distant uncle to nephew. But I was not quite as easily satisfied as most of my ancestors. I could not accept that good breeding and a solid education could be the only reasons for so many mages in one long family line. So I decided to research the matter. Forgive me if this is convoluted; I've never actually told anyone of my research, and it’s been a few decades since I even really gave the matter any thought.”
Zho stood up, walking aimlessly for a few minutes, pausing from time to time only to gather more stones. There were actually quite a few rocks left, and Kurt accepted that the man needed to gather his thoughts. He sat patiently, throwing a few more projectiles at the water and relearning a childhood talent. Eventually, the mage came back and sat down again, dropping a large collection of new missiles in the process.
“The entire situation apparently started with a young man named Aldiis Etriuson. Aldiis, son of Etrius." Kurt sat up a little straighter, all of his attention forced back to Zho. “Yes, the same Etrius who is one of the founding members of the Tremere clan of vampires. Aldiis was a bastard, his existence unknown to most of the Tremere chantry. I am a descendant of Etrius."
“But what have the Tremere to do with you selling your soul?"
“I was getting to that. Still more research, and a great deal
&nbs
p; of time delving into records that few even knew existed — letters from Etrius to the mother of Aldiis, a woman named Lisle Zho and a Gypsy at that. Her last name is only my last name only because I chose to use it, by the way, not because of any actual continuous use of the name. And my first name was not Thadius until I decided a change of name could be conducive to my continued existence. Actually tracing my lineage would be an exercise in futility anymore, as I destroyed the records.
“But I digress. Etrius explained in his letters what is now common knowledge among the Awakened: The world was changing, and magick was changing as well. Sorcerous spells were being replaced by a different magick, replaced by technology. The laws that governed the world were going to change, and the Tremere chantry feared that they would die out with the end of the Mythic Age. Tremere believed he could save them from that fate, but there was likely going to be a price to pay.
“Lisle was very much in love with her man, Etrius, and she wanted to be with him forever. However, Etrius had told her of Tremere’s schemes, plans to gain immortality through a powerful ritual that would convert Tremere and his chosen associates into creatures that were as long-lived as vampires without the natural flaws that vampires suffer: no feeding on blood, no severe reaction to sunlight, et cetera, et cetera. But Etrius was afraid. He suspected the ritual might fail, or possibly change all of the mages into Kindred — time proved him right — and so he decided to ensure that he would have a way to return to life as a mage, rather than being trapped as a vampire for all time. He spoke with Lisle at length, and the two of them devised a method for protecting his soul from the worst corruptions, allowing him to maintain his humanity no matter how much time he spent as a vampire.
“At the time of the great change, Etrius’ worst fears were realized — he did indeed become a vampire. Lisle was
devastated, as was Etrius. Despite their best efforts, he would suffer from all the flaws of vampiric life."
Zho looked at Kurt, his eye blazing with an inner light. “Tell me what you know of how Tremere came to reach the lofty powers of an Antediluvian." It was not a question, but a demand.
“Everyone knows the answer to that.” Kurt tossed another stone, disappointed when it sank after only one bounce off the water’s surface. “It’s fairly common knowledge that he diablerized Saulot of the Salubri Clan. Normally he’d be punished for his actions, but there are few who could hope to harm one of the Kindred only twice-removed from Caine. His power is that of a demi-god.”
“Yes, that is just so. Saulot died, his soul consumed by Tremere. And the seven followers of Tremere were there to see it happen. But there is more to the story, Kurt. More than most of the Kindred know. Tremere did indeed commit diablerie, but Etrius committed grave robbery only seconds later. Etrius plucked the third eye from Saulot’s head, the eye of wisdom and judgment. He preserved the eye by keeping it surrounded by his own blood, and later he cast powerful rituals upon the orb that keep it safe from harm.”
“What would he want with such a thing? What possible use could anyone have for an eyeball, even the eyeball of an Antediluvian?"
Zho smiled, shaking his head. “That part took a lot of learning. Years and years of research. With the Eye of Saulot, Etrius preserved some of the powers of Saulot. The Eye permits — and mind you, this is partially guesswork and certainly unconfirmed — Etrius to keep his soul from growing dark with the taint of his actions. That is why he wears the Eye of Saulot.”
“Surely someone would have noticed something that powerful long before now...” Kurt was willing to go along with most things. He easily granted that the world had many secrets beyond his knowledge and many possibilities that he could not comprehend. He was the first to admit that he was not knowledgeable in the ways of magic, but this was going too far.
Zho chuckled, “The best magicians use misdirection to protect themselves from being caught. Everyone that sees Etrius sees the Eye of Saulot. The Eye is better known to most people as the Soul Gem of Etrius.”
“You are mad.” Kurt shook his head, refusing to believe what the mage told him.
“No, Kurt Westphal, I am a mage. I can see what is easily missed by most Kindred. Those that could see what Etrius has done would hardly care one way or the other. Besides, the Soul Gem is a crystal — it hardly looks like an eye. That is how Etrius manages to keep his soul clean, how after almost one thousand years, he is still as kind as when he was mortal. His soul is one of the few that has not been corrupted by the nature of Caine's curse. Oh, don’t look so surprised — I did a great deal of research into the Kindred as well.
“All that I’d learned of my distant forefather was interesting, but hardly important to me, until I realized what he intended to do with his Soul Gem. When the time came around, Etrius intended to escape his vampirism by literally forcing his soul into a mage’s body, but not just any body. The ritual he and Lisle Zho had crafted required a specific set of conditions be met.
“The mage taken by Etrius had to be a blood descendant and, more importantly, had to be the seventh son of a seventh son, just as Etrius was the seventh of his own father, who in turn was the seventh of his father. The requirements made Etrius’ chances of locating a suitable host fairly rare, but not impossible. I myself knew of one who would be ideal for his plans — Me. He could potentially seize my body. I would no longer be who I thought I was. I would be a portion of another being, one that was stronger and more experienced than me,
one that could, in all likelihood, consume everything that made me what I was and rule the body through sheer force of will. Thadius Zho would cease to be, making room for Etrius the mage when he returned to the mortal world from his time in the realm of vampires.
“Had I known then what I know now, I probably wouldn’t have made a deal with the Devil. But back then I feared that I would be destroyed by Etrius’ return to the mortal world. I never had a reason to worry, because the great escape Etrius had spoken of wasn’t even going to occur for another couple of hundred years. Again, I’m getting ahead of myself.
“Etrius planned to cure himself of the curse of Caine, but he didn’t plan to cure only himself. By maintaining connections with certain members of the Order of Hermes, he hoped to transform the entire Tremere clan. For almost a thousand years, Etrius has been biding his time and waiting for a chance to bring back the Mythic Age, with himself as one of the rulers of the Order of Hermes. Just how he plans this I cannot tell you, but I can tell you he plans on doing it soon."
The two sat in near-perfect silence for a long time, listening to the faint murmurs of nocturnal insects and the occasional splash as one or the other skipped a stone over the water. Finally, Kurt could bear the silence no longer. “Have you any proof of this?”
“Only the words from manuscripts long destroyed, and the words of one Tremere who is uncertain if this is the right move for her clan to make.”
“Ilse Decameron?”
“No. Ilse has her role to play, but she is not the one who I’ve spoken with on this matter. Jing Wei is the Tremere in question." Zho looked away, studying something in the distance that Kurt could not see.
“What part does Ilse have to play in this?"
“Ilse is to deliver the mage to Etrius."
“The mage?
“Carl Magnuson.”
“Magnuson? The man I saw in Los Angeles, talking with Ilse Decameron?”
“Yes. None other.”
“Well, then, all we have to do is warn this Magnuson to stay away from the Tremere, especially Ilse Decameron.”
“Far too late, Kurt. They have been together since you met in Los Angeles. He is at Malmsey House, Dr. Dee’s haven. And he is likely with Ilse Decameron even as we speak.” “Then how do we stop this insanity?” Kurt's mind was reeling with the implications of what Zho had explained. As it stood, assuming that Zho was telling the truth (a daring assumption when Kurt considered the man's associates), the very Camarilla could be in danger from the shock waves that would ri
pple through the Kindred society. His voice was edged with the anger and helplessness he felt.
“Simply put, we do not. You do. You must meet with Ilse Decameron and make her understand that if she takes Carl Magnuson to Vienna, he is as good as dead. He will be destroyed only a few days from now, and his mortal body will be possessed by Etrius.”
“There is simply no way that I can gain entrance to Malmsey House. The tensions between our clans are too strong.”
“You have to find a way, Kurt. Because if you do not, you and your entire clan will find yourselves surrounded by mages that hold a long grudge against you, mages that can walk in the sunlight and can easily arrange for a one-way ticket to the sun for you and anyone else who gets in their way.” Zho stood then and started walking away. “Think on that, Kurt. I’m only one mage, but there must be hundreds of the Tremere. Think what they could do to all vampires if they decided to. And remember which clan has given them the most grief over the centuries.”
Kurt thought for a long time, growing more and more
chilled before finally fleeing into Bexborough Manor in time to escape the rising sun.
Tuesday, April 27, Vienna— Die Fledermaus
Kurt was awakened the following night by Mary, a very attractive chambermaid who was also his source of food while visiting with the Queen of London. She left him as soon as he was awake, but not before passing on the message that a Mr. Thadius Zho requested his presence at the same location as the night before.
After taking a very short shower and changing quickly into a fresh suit, he slipped from his apartment in the manor without encountering anyone else, and he was glad for the short time alone. Despite his full day's sleep, he felt tired and restless. He vaguely remembered unsettling images from the day’s dreams, but they slipped away from him whenever he tried focusing on what had occurred during his slumber. Kurt had seldom been able to remember his dreams since his Embrace, one of the apparent side-effects of his new life that he still regretted. Germany. Something about Germany. Even the thought of Berlin made him homesick. Soon enough, he thought. This nightmare will be over soon enough, and I can go home.
