Immortal Divorce Court Volume 2: A Sirius Education

by Kirk Zurosky

  At first I was going on nothing but my sense of smell, sensing just the barest hint of the black-tipped death the erstwhile assassin was carrying, borne back to me on the wind. On we raced, dancing the classic dance of the hunter and the hunted through the narrow streets of Florence. The eternal question of who was who was about to be answered as I smelled the scent of those arrows getting stronger by the step. It was nasty and deadly, and I racked my brain to determine what he carried, but I could not figure out the identity of the black death, and that was a scary proposition for a master assassin.

  I could tell I was gaining ground when I saw a robed figure, and quickly closed the gap. Nothing is as fast as a vampire on the hunt, I thought as I took the steps leading up to the church of San Miniato al Monte two at a time, although this strange robed menace had conducted himself admirably. So admirably in fact, I wondered if I pursued one of my own. I picked up the fallen bow and quiver of arrows that the creeper had discarded. That settled it—this was not a vampire I chased, as we did not recklessly discard our weapons under any circumstance, even entering a church or other hallowed ground. I notched an arrow in the bow, and readied my shot at the creeper, cursing in disappointment as the church doors just closed behind him.

  “I have you now,” I announced triumphantly as I pulled open the doors and readied my bow, only to see the creeper disappear down the steps toward the crypt. For the barest of seconds, I debated abandoning my quest to identify and kill the creeper, as sprinting into a crypt usually meant facing an ambush. But the poison on the arrows must have gotten to my good sense, as down the stairs I went with a fanged snarl. I was surprised to come face to face with thirty hooded monks just beginning their chanting of prayers, and though they started nervously at my entrance, they never stopped the chant or missed a beat. I whirled around angrily, my eyes going to all possible points in the crypt where my assailant could have fled. In that short time, his options were slim. Thus, among the thirty chanting monks, was my frustrated killer, a death dealer frustrated by me, the ultimate death dealer—ah, the irony. The monks’ heads stayed down, yet among them, I could hear a heart beating just a little bit faster than the others. That was my runner. I sighed, knowing there were but five arrows left in the quiver and thirty monks. I had a one in six chance of sending the creeper to his maker if I used all the arrows, but only a one in thirty chance of not ending an innocent life here in the house of their maker. I raised the bow and sighted it.

  I scanned the monks again, looking for any telltale sign of the creeper’s identity, before breaking the bow into kindling over my knee with a rather ungodly curse, and depositing the remnants in the holy water font at the base of the stairs. “May you be blessed today, good brothers,” I said angrily, then stomped up the stairs and kicked open the door of the basilica. I headed back to the Laurentian, growing more and more incensed at the loss of my quarry. I wanted to kill something, anything, and found myself leering at an old woman, an image of an arrow through her throat, evoking in me a maniacal grin. I shook my head to clear the deranged thought—and several others—and pulled the quiver from my back. Apparently the poison on the arrows could do far more than just poison the body. I resolved to have a conversation with Hedley Edrick about it at the next opportunity. Surely, the Master of Masters knew what the poison was and where it came from. That would point me in the direction of my creeper.

  I carefully wrapped the quiver and poisoned arrows in a sack filled with rocks and hurled them into the Arno from the middle of the Ponte Vecchio. They were clearly too dangerous to keep on my person. I heard a great hissing as they hit the water, then silence as I continued on. Tomorrow the merchants would decry the blight that struck the river, as many an inedible fish already dotted the surface, having met a rather untimely demise.

  Back in the crypt of San Miniato al Monte Basilica, an eerie scene was playing out. The chanting had stopped, and all the monks, save one, had departed for their other duties. This monk ignored all the whispers between the other monks about the crazed man with the bow and arrow who had entered the basilica earlier. They believed that their lives had been spared because their prayers to a higher power had been answered. The monk scoffed, picking at his fingernails with a dagger—they did not even know the true meaning of a “higher power.”

  Suddenly, the air appeared to shimmy and bend between the many elaborate white pillars in the crypt, and at the very center of the room, a hooded man appeared—his presence sending out dark and decidedly evil energy that dampened the mood of the holy place. Outside the basilica the air grew quiet as the birds stopped chirping, and in the courtyard the other monks looked to the heavens and blessed themselves. The monk in the crypt drew his robe tighter and pulled his hood down over his eyes—this was a higher power, and he was a disciple of the hate it embodied.

  “You failed,” said a voice, hard and cold, cutting deep into the monk’s troubled mind and squeezing a bit of life from his soul. “All the hate you have in your heart for Sirius Sinister and all your training were for naught this day. Naught! I arm you with the king of all poisons, and you waste it and lose it! I have nothing but contempt for you.”

  “I am sorry,” the monk said, his lip quivering and body shaking. He lifted his eyes ever so slightly and saw a look of disapproval so stern that he nearly died at that moment. He realized he still held the dagger in his hand and longed to kill the one before him. Not out of anger or fear, but if only to ease the weight of the darkness for a moment.

  But that only brought laughter that was just as painful. “Not likely, you fool,” the dark figure said. “If you can’t shoot a simple bow and arrow and kill the vampire, what makes you think a creature like yourself can kill a future god like me? Oh, but whatever you do, do not think! I am not going to keep you alive to think. Just hate. Surely, a simpleton like you can manage that.”

  “What now?” the monk replied. “Sinister is still alive, and he now knows there is one that wants him dead.”

  “Indeed, what now? Did you not hear me tell you not to think? Sinister is a man that is very hard to kill. Even I thought he was surely dead once or twice. But he is also a man that has made many an enemy over the centuries, so it is not as if your failed attack points to us. Lots and lots of folks want him dead.”

  “Except for the arrows,” the monk said. “Maybe he knows of the poison and where it came from.”

  “You have lost the poison of the basilisk. I should kill you for that. But Sinister has already disposed of the poison, so you shall live another day. He does not know of the poison’s origin, and that buffoon Edrick is convinced the last basilisk was killed centuries ago, and he is too egotistical to think that another master might have fooled him. So we return to whence we came. And as for Sinister, you will get another chance to redeem yourself, dear Kunchen.”

  Kunchen smiled and pulled back his hood. “Thank you,” he said, looking down at the dagger. “I will not fail you again.”

  “You had better not. But all the same, since I know full well all of Sinister’s weaknesses, I think I know the perfect way to make him more valuable to us alive than dead. Other agents will see to that, and once we get what we need from him, then he is yours to kill.” Kunchen and his master left the crypt, and the birds began to chirp once again outside of the basilica.

  Chapter 6

  When I entered the Chamber of the Master of Masters, I found Knowledge in her laboratory gear, performing incredible feats of scientific mastery in the kitchen, with Garlic supervising by her feet, snatching up each and every scrap that Knowledge “accidentally” dropped.

  “What is the occasion for this fine meal fit for a king?” I asked, inhaling the delicious aromas coming from the great iron pots and skillets heated by a visible blue flame, yet which gave out no smoke. “Before, I would have asked you what magic is this, but now I recall the Oracle of Delphi was built over this gas that comes from deep within the earth. One thousand years ago, th
e Chinese also used something like this, making crude pipes out of bamboo plants to conduct it. Am I right?” A deep kiss on the lips from Knowledge told me I was indeed correct. The pots and skillets weren’t the only things heating up in the kitchen.

  “You retain things very well, Sirius Sinister,” Knowledge said, ladling huge quantities of steaming meat and vegetables onto a fancy ceramic platter. “I suppose that is why you have stayed alive these many years. But you could still learn to be a better judge of the fairer sex.”

  I laughed. “We all have our weaknesses,” I said. “I could read every book in the world and I still would not have the answer as to why they call females the fairer, or gentler, sex. I have seen more compassion from a school of piranhas than some women I have had the misfortune of crossing.”

  Knowledge did not look much amused. “So maybe that is your lesson after all, dear Sirius,” she said. “Don’t cross us.”

  The burn of the passionate kiss on my lips was quickly fading. Indeed, the kitchen seemed to feel a whole lot cooler. It was time to change my tactics, and the subject. “Right, good idea,” I said. “One I will try to take to heart. . . . Oh, a certain robed evil-eyed creeper remained in Florence to try and kill me. Did I forget to mention that?”

  Knowledge jumped, quite startled by my words, and dropped a flagon of wine, which crashed to the floor, leaving Garlic to happily lap up the mess. “Drat, I thought that the danger was gone, and it was safe for you to journey into the city! Tell me, Sirius,” she said, pulling me down to the table so we could eat and talk. “What happened?”

  I grabbed another flagon, poured us some more wine, and sat, relaying the whole story to her. “What do you think we should do about this?” I asked, reaching for a final turkey leg. “Tell Hedley, of course, right?”

  She nodded. “If you are ready, and if you have not had too much wine, we can begin your final exams,” she said. “And then you will be off to Oxford to meet with Hedley. You can tell him then.”

  “I really could use some more wine,” I said with a smile. What was her rush? The truth was that I felt quite full and just a bit sleepy. As much as I enjoyed Knowledge’s company, after the morning’s excitement and the meal, I just wanted to take a well-deserved nap.

  Garlic had finished eating, and instead of going for a nap, barked a wormhole and disappeared. “Where did she go?” I asked Knowledge. “She never goes anywhere without me.”

  “Oh, she has a mission from Hedley. She will be back. Do not worry. Oh, and Sirius,” Knowledge said, “Hedley tells me your werepires are on their way to Oxford.”

  “All of them?”

  “All of them.”

  “What about Maria?”

  Knowledge grinned that beautiful smile of hers, seeing my excitement. “Maria will be there eventually,” she said. “Now, are you really, really ready?”

  All of a sudden, I felt incredibly clearheaded and focused. “Aye,” I said, rising to my feet. “I am ready.”

  Knowledge fired question after question at me, and I found that I really was ready, and that I truly had learned under her wise tutelage. We went through subject after subject, and a small grin formed on my face as I casually patted a bead of sweat from my brow. Knowledge’s rigorous examination was as hard as any swordfight I had ever participated in. Finally, Knowledge stopped and pointed to a bottle wrapped in gold foil next to two champagne flutes.

  “Is that for me? How nice!” I exclaimed, as she walked to the bottle and opened it. Its cork popped loudly, sending a rush of foam over her fingers.

  “It’s for both of us,” she said, pouring each of us a glass and handing one flute to me. “It is time to celebrate because you have passed my tests!”

  I looked deep into those captivating golden eyes, not quite trusting that she was done and that this wasn’t just another test. “Are you sure you do not have anything else to ask of me?”

  Knowledge smiled. “All right,” she said. “I have just one more oral examination for you. Tell me about Newton’s laws of motion.”

  “Very well, but I’m thinking this isn’t going to be just oral,” I said. I set down my drink, picked her up by the waist, and set her gently on the table so she was sitting on the very edge of it, but with me holding her down by the wrists. The sun outside the windows was steadily dropping to the horizon, beams of sunlight forming a halo around the rainbow tresses pinned up on top of her head. I nearly forgot what I was going to say as I beheld and held this angelic beauty. “The first law—an object at rest stays at rest.”

  Knowledge smiled coyly, not resisting me. “Am I but an object to you, dear Sirius?”

  “You are more like a heavenly body,” I replied, releasing her wrists and stroking her cheek. “But even all heavenly bodies must follow the laws of motion.” The sun was now a deep red blur on the horizon, and Knowledge pulled the comb from her hair and shook out her long radiant locks. I gasped at her beauty, for she was now framed with the flames of all the passion in the universe. “So, an object at rest no matter how heavenly must stay at rest—unless of course an external force acts upon it.” I picked her up from the table and held her close. “Like this.”

  Knowledge did not resist me and, true to the first law, did not move a muscle. “You are more a force of nature, Sirius, than an external force. Tell me about the second law,” she said.

  I twirled her around the chamber, though there was no music to keep time to, save the beat of our hearts. With every twirl I pulled her closer and closer. First I could smell a hint of her perfume, then her hair brushed my face ever so slightly, and finally I held her close, my hands locked in the small of her back with my fingertips feeling the delightful curve of her backside, and the fullness of her breasts were pressed against my chest.

  “Are you stalling?” she whispered. “Have you forgotten the second law?”

  Forgotten, no—distracted, absolutely! I continued our dance. “Simply put—an object in motion stays in motion.”

  “Very good,” she said, as I dipped her dramatically with a flourish. “I do say I like how you move—even if you did call me an object once again. What about the third law?” she teased. “Do you recall that?”

  “Indeed, I do,” I said, pulling her back to me. She was an object all right—an object of my desire. “It has to do with the force on objects in the universe. For example, if I do this”—I planted a soft kiss on her impossibly full lips—“and you kiss back . . .”

  “Like this?” she said, returning the favor and holding her kiss delightfully long.

  “Then the forces are equal and opposite,” I said. “But I am afraid your kiss was a bit longer than mine, so I am not sure you understand what I mean. Let me try to explain this once again.”

  I reached for her blouse and gently tugged it over her head, dropping it to the floor. Her polychromatic wings unfolded in an instant, catching the moonlight and shimmering like she was an ethereal angel from above. She fluttered into the air for a moment before I reached for her and drew her down into a deep soulful kiss, grounding her once again. She moaned as I caressed her heavenly golden breasts, the light of the full moon above illuminating all the delightful diamond sparkles in her skin. I pulled her close and traced my fingers lightly everywhere, following the trail of the moonlight, rubbing her nipples between my thumb and forefinger until I heard her gasp and flutter her wings forward, caressing my face like the softest of silks.

  “For every action,” I said, my mouth close to her ear, and my breath and kisses hot on her neck.

  “There is an equal and opposite reaction,” she sighed, rubbing her fingers through my hair and pulling me into the sleeping chamber. “I think you’ve got this motion thing down,” she said, pulling my shirt off, her hands lingering on my chest and moving across my shoulders.

  “Well, I have had a very good teacher,” I said, reaching for her long white boots and sliding them off o
ne at a time. My hands went to her hips and began sliding down her breeches. But her hands pushed mine to the side, and soon my breeches were keeping my shirt company on the floor. She stood back and took in my naked body and burgeoning manhood. “Well now, my dear Sirius,” she said. “I can certainly see the gravity of the situation.” Knowledge shimmied quickly out of her breeches and, to my surprise, put those white boots back on and flexed her wings, fluttering above the bed.

  “Looks to me like you are the one defying gravity,” I said. “Are you going to come down to earth so I can make you see stars?”

  “The student doesn’t give lessons to the teacher,” she said, remaining tantalizingly out of my reach. “You are still in my classroom. Now, do what I say and lie down.”

  With all due vampire speed, I situated myself on the bed, and Knowledge descended slowly, mounting me. She alternated slowly and rhythmically flexing her wings, rising into the air ever so slightly each time she did, before thrusting down upon me, driving me ever deeper inside her. She brought her face to mine, and that delightful tongue of hers curled around mine gently as my hands caressed every inch of her body, which had now taken on an iridescent glow, with just her and the moon above as the only heavenly bodies in my universe.

  I sat up, and she remained astride me. My mouth eagerly found the platinum perfection of her breasts, then her lips, as I thrust deep into her with every beat of her wings. She stopped fluttering them and wrapped them forward around us as I brought the pleasure within her again and again, until she tilted her head to the night sky and truly, deeply, and completely saw stars. She caught her breath after a moment and again fluttered her wings faster and faster as she felt my own pleasure coming, wrapping her arms around me, and holding me tight as I delivered the final dissertation to my teacher, and we fell to the bed a jumble of wings, arms, legs, and lips, and slept deeply under the watchful eye of the moon.