by Morgan Rice
“Who said anything about killing you?” Kyle asked, as he got closer. “That would be too kind. I think, instead, I’ll torture you slowly.”
“That makes little difference to me,” the man said. “No matter what you do, you will never find her.”
Kyle bore down on the man, just feet away, and leapt at him.
But the man surprised him. At the last second, the man reached back and threw a handful of holy ash right into Kyle’s eyes.
Kyle fell to the ground, stunned, his eyes burning. Holy ash. A sneaky trick. It hurt like hell; he hadn’t had it in his eyes for centuries.
“I renounce you in the name of Satan,” the man said. “Let this holy ash destroy you, and let it send you back to the place from which you came.”
He threw down handful after handful of ash onto Kyle’s head.
But Kyle suddenly regained his strength and charged the man, tackling him hard, sending him to the ground.
On top of him, Kyle grabbed his throat, and squeezed.
The man stared back with eyes opened wide, clearly in shock.
“Stupid man,” Kyle spat. “Holy ash can only kill the weak of our race. I developed immunity hundreds of years ago.”
The man struggled for breath, as Kyle squeezed.
Kyle grinned wider.
“And now, it’s my turn,” Kyle said. “You and I are going to get to know each other. Very, very well.”
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CHAPTER TEN
As Caitlin, all dressed up in an elaborate gown, followed Polly through the door, she had to stop herself at the last second from stepping right into the water. She still couldn’t get over the fact that doors opened right onto the water, that one could step into the water as easily as one would step onto a sidewalk elsewhere.
As Caitlin stood there, at the water’s edge, in the fading sunset, she looked down at the rippling water, and was finally able to see her reflection.
“Look!” Caitlin said in amazement, grabbing Polly’s arm, in shock that she could actually see herself.
“I know,” Polly said. “We use it all the time. It’s our only way of seeing ourselves. It’s not exactly a mirror, but it has to do.”
Caitlin was startled at how she looked. She wore a huge gown, yellow, gold and white, festive and multi-layered, with floral designs all over it. Her hair had been braided by Polly, and Caitlin completed her costume with her Venetian mask. She especially liked the mask. Behind this mask, she could have been anyone. With it on, she seemed so mysterious, so regal, even a bit dangerous.
Caitlin looked up and saw that all around her, Polly’s coven members, dozens of them, were at the water’s edge, preparing to board their gondolas. She was impressed by how they looked: they were all so dressed up, in gowns and masks of every color and fabric and style. They had spent all afternoon preparing, and they took it seriously. Their formality was so different from what Caitlin was used to. In a weird way, it was refreshing. They were all so elegant, so refined. Caitlin thought back to what it was like going out for the night in the 21st century. She would spend maybe 10
minutes getting ready, maybe throw on jeans and a turtleneck. That all seemed so boring, so commonplace, next to this. The people in this century seemed to really embrace living life to the fullest.
It was a bit of a challenge for Caitlin to get into the narrow, rocking gondola in her huge gown.
Tyler, a boat over, saw her struggling, and hurried over and held out his hand for her.
“Thanks,” she said, taking it.
She took two steps into the rickety boat, swayed and then balanced yourself, as the boat rocked all over the place. She managed to quickly sit and tuck her gown in, right before it draped into the water.
Rose whined, looking on from the water’s edge, clearly wanting to come.
“Sorry, Rose,” Caitlin said. “Not this time. Don’t worry, I’ll be back soon.”
Rose kept whining, wanting to be by her side, and Caitlin felt bad. But at the same time, she was happy at the thought of Rose on this island, safe and secure.
All around them, coven members were boarding their gondolas. There was a small fleet of about a dozen gondolas, with two people in each, one sitting down low, and the other standing and rowing. Caitlin recognized many of them: Taylor and Tyler, Cain and Barbara, Patrick, Madeline, Harrison…Polly had introduced her to all of them again throughout the day. It was so weird for her to be introduced to all these people she already knew. But she went along with it, and everything had gone smoothly. Even Cain was nice to her this time.
They all welcomed her as if she’d been there forever, and once again, she felt at home with them. She was starting to feel as if everything she’d lost on Pollepel was slowly being restored to her.
Once again, she was slowly beginning to feel like she was home. But she was scared of the feeling, too: it seemed like every time she settled into a place, something ended up happening to uproot her.
The boats pushed off, cutting their way through the clear blue water, lit up in the twilight by the rising full moon. The water was rougher now, at night, than it had been earlier, and her boat bobbed up and down. But it was a peaceful, repetitive motion, and it set her at ease, as did the sound of the waves lapping against it. Caitlin leaned back and closed her eyes, feeling the salt air on her face, and breathed deeply. It was a warm night, and she felt completely relaxed.
She heard a voice break out into song, and opened her eyes and looked over. One of her coven members, in a neighboring boat, was singing as he rowed. It was in a language she did not understand, and he sung in a deep, melodic voice. It was slow, sad song, which merged with the sounds of the lapping waves and the occasional bird crying overhead.
Caitlin closed her eyes again, and allowed herself to relax. Once again, she felt at home, a sense of ease in the world. She allowed her mind to wander, and to think of the night to come.
Despite all the stark cultural differences, despite being dressed in a costume and mask and being in the year 1790 and heading to a ball, Caitlin felt that things weren’t really all that different than they might be back home. She almost felt as if she could be going out with friends on a Saturday night, heading to a dance. The exteriors were very different, but ultimately, deep down, it was the same thing. Going out for the night with friends. Hoping to have a good time. Hoping to meet someone.
It was amazing to her how some things never changed.
In Caitlin’s case, the only thing on her mind was Caleb. She felt her heart pounding with excitement with every row the boat took, hoping that it took her one step closer to meeting him.
She felt with her whole heart that she would see him at the dance tonight. She willed it to be the case.
She prayed, she really prayed, that he was alive, that he had survived the trip. That he would be there. It seemed like the best chance she had.
If he wasn’t here, if he hadn’t made it, she would be crushed. And if he was there… She didn’t even know where to begin. She tried to imagine the moment. Seeing him again for the first time. She prayed that he would recognize her, that their love would make it possible. That the second their eyes locked, he would embrace her, would remember everything. He would tell her how he had been searching for her, too, and how grateful he was to have her back. He would thank her for reviving him. He would tell her
how happy he was that they could live together now, free from any harm.
Caitlin’s heart swelled as she thought of it. It was a chance to start clean with Caleb, and it was a chance to meet him for the first time all over again. In a way, it would be like a first date. And maybe there would be a first dance. And a first kiss.
And then…just maybe, they could get married this time. And have a child once again.
*
It was dark by the time they arrived in Venice, and as they rounded a bend and approached the city, Caitlin was struck by its beauty at night. The city was lit up, candles in every window, and torches on every boat. The water, filled with boats, was even more crowded than before, lit with the reflection of thousands of torches from hundreds of ships gliding through the night. If anything, the city look even more festive during the night than it had during the day. Caitlin was shocked at how much they managed to achieve without electricity.
And, to Caitlin’s surprise, it was even more crowded. Even from this distance, she could hear the laughing, the singing, and most of all, the music. In every direction, on every corner, in every square, even in the boats, people were playing music, strumming on lutes, harps, guitars…It was as if they were entering one huge party.
People were also openly drinking everywhere, and laughter filled the air. It soared above the noise, as if everyone seemed to be in a fit of hysterics over something.
Caitlin looked forward to re-entering the city, especially, this time, with all of her newfound friends in tow, but she was still a bit intimidated by the maze of streets, and by the crowds. People were everywhere, and with everyone was in costume, it seemed far too easy to get separated and lost in the fray.
Their gondola headed under a bridge, and then pulled up to the dock. All of her coven members jumped out, securing their boats, and giving each other a hand.
Before Caitlin could even stand, Tyler had jumped out of his boat, run over to hers, and knelt down, offering her hand.
“Aren’t you going to offer me a hand?” Polly asked, joking.
“She’s the new girl,” Tyler said. “She needs it.”
Caitlin took his hand gladly, hoping that he didn’t look too much into it, as she stepped out of the rocky boat; with one big step, he lifted her and she jumped onto shore. It was no easy feat, and she wondered how she’d ever get back into it.
Before Polly could get off, Patrick suddenly appeared, running over to her and holding out his hand.
“Can I help you, Polly?” he asked, hopefully. He stood there with his big grin, large ears, and shock of red hair, and looked exactly as Caitlin had remembered him on Pollepel.
“Thanks anyway,” Polly said, “but I’ll be OK.”
Patrick turned away, crestfallen.
Caitlin marveled at the twists of fate. She remembered a time when Polly was desperate to court Patrick; now, the situation had clearly changed.
Caitlin felt happy to be on land, standing there with all of her new friends, ready to see the city at night for the first time. In her first trip here, she had felt so disoriented; now, she really felt ready to take it all in.
The group of them hurried off into the crowd, and Caitlin stuck close by Polly’s side, careful not to lose her. It shouldn’t be too hard, because Polly’s bright pink and white dress—and matching mask—was hard to miss. Polly reached over and grabbed Caitlin’s wrist, as they were jostled every which way through the crowd.
“Venice is unlike any place in the world,” Polly said. “The city is in decline, but no one really cares. It’s sinking, literally, into the water, but no one seems to care about that, either. They just want to have fun. People come here from all over the world to join in the party, and to shake their heads at our lifestyle.” Polly shrugged. “We’re far removed from it being on our island—but when we do come in, it’s always a good time.”
They all turned down a side street, and then into a large square, buildings facing it from every direction with elaborate, marble façades. It was beautiful, and the square was absolutely packed, aglow with torches.
Caitlin wondered if the crowds would ever die down, anywhere in this city.
The square was lined with cafés along one side, hundreds of people sitting at small tables, mostly in costume and wearing masks, sipping on cups of coffee, or drinking glasses of wine. The clinking of dishes could be heard from far away. Dogs roamed amidst them, scavenging for scraps.
As they crossed to the other side of the square, Caitlin saw that it was lined with gambling booths: there were hundreds of small tables, hustlers behind them, moving small shells or offering various other ways for unsuspecting victims to gamble their money. Crowded around them were hundreds of people, betting away their money on sure losses.
There was a sudden eruption and shouting, as one of the tables was knocked over by an angry customer. He pounced on the hustler, and the two of them wrestled to the ground, punching and hitting each other, as a commotion broke out.
Caitlin felt a tug on her arm, and followed Polly as the group turned down another side street.
This alleyway was narrow, barely big enough to fit a few people side-by-side, and it was darker than the others. As they walked, wooden shutters opened above them on all sides, and girls, not much older than Caitlin, stuck their heads out, smiling widely, and pulling their dresses low enough to reveal their breasts.
Caitlin was shocked.
“Want a good time?” one of them called out.
“Hey honey!” screamed another
“I’m for hire!” another screamed.
Caitlin felt bad that girls her age had to work that way, and she marveled at the injustice of the world. Some things never seemed to change.
They entered another square, and this one was filled with jugglers, fire eaters, and all sorts of games. The music here was even louder, as a whole band of performers strummed guitars, and a chorus of people sang along.
“Drink? Drink?”
A jug of wine was thrust under Caitlin’s nose, as several vendors crowded around them, shoving it under their faces. She tried to push them away, but they kept getting closer. Finally, Polly reached over and shoved them hard, and they went away.
“It’s the only way to handle them,” Polly said.
Caitlin was taken aback by the roughness of this place. It seemed like complete mayhem.
As she headed deeper into yet another thick crowd, she began to feel claustrophobic. It was getting harder to move, as the crowd seemed to grow continually thicker, people pouring into the square from all directions. Worse, she was overwhelmed by the stench. It seemed no one bathed, and that the closest attempt was throwing on cheap perfume, which didn’t even work.
Caitlin looked over and noticed Polly take out a small pouch from her pocket, and raise it to her nose.
“What’s that?” Caitlin asked.
Polly looked over, and realize that Caitlin didn’t have one, and reached into her pocket and handed her one. It felt funny in Caitlin’s hand, like a small, silk bag of potpourri.
“Hold it to your nose,” Polly instructed. “It helps.”
Caitlin held it up, and it helped right away. Instead of the smell of the people, she inhaled the scent of roses and perfume.
“It’s really impossible to get through Venice without it.”
Caitlin surveyed the crowd, and saw the other coven members were holding them, too.
They finally exited onto a side street, and as they walked, the street ended in a footbridge. They had to ascend, up about 15 steps or so, then the bridge flattened out, over a canal of water. Caitlin looked left and right as they did, and saw the canal wind its way through the narrow side streets of Venice. Seeing water like that, right in the middle of the city, was really incredible. It was amazing to her that she couldn’t have continued walking down this street without crossing a small bridge.
They came down the footbridge on the other end, and turned down another side street, and entered yet another square. Th
e square was much more elegant than the others, lined with huge palaces, elaborate marble façades, arched doorways, and huge arched windows. Caitlin wondered if this was where royalty lived.
Just as she was about to ask Polly where they were, the group stopped in front of one of the more beautiful buildings, before an oak door. One of them reached up, grabbed the metal knocker, and slammed it with three short knocks that echoed throughout the plaza.
Within seconds, an elaborately dressed butler opened the door. He bowed his head and stepped aside.
“Just on time,” he said with a smile.
*
Caitlin entered the huge palace, sticking close to Polly, and looked up at her surroundings in awe. It was unlike any place she had ever been. This huge, opulent palace had soaring ceilings, painted with frescoes and lined with fancy moldings. The walls were covered in oil paintings and enormous gold mirrors. A gigantic chandelier hung low, holding dozens of candles which lit up the room. Beneath Caitlin’s feet was an intricate black-and-white tiled marble floor, so shiny that she could almost see her reflection in it. Before her was a wide marble staircase, winding to the left and to the right with an ornate railing, and lush red carpeting right down the middle.
The room was packed with people. It was a different sort of crowd than had filled the streets—
here, the people seemed refined, elegant, and were clearly very, very rich. They were all dripping with jewelry—some of the most brilliant and opulent jewels Caitlin had ever seen. Their costumes were more fancy, more ornate, and everyone wore masks, some covered in jewels. The laughter in here was more subtle, and nearly everyone drank from a crystal glass. It felt like she was in an exclusive cocktail party inside a lavish museum. There were hundreds of people milling about, as far as her eye could see.
The room was also filled with music. In the corner of the room sat a string quartet, the mellow sounds of the violin and cello echoing off the high walls. Caitlin wondered who lived here. Was it some sort of government palace? Or was it a private residence?
