“Papers, what papers?” Grimm asked.
Persi tapped the leather folder. “The papers in here.”
“Sacrebleu, what papers can cause the vampire pain?” Grimm asked, holstering his gun and nodding to the others to do the same.
“Evidently a manuscript written about the Elder gods.” Boots said, while adjusting his braces and donning his waistcoat. He released the hammer on the sundowner pistol. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I have footwear to find.”
The others left, all but Mister Parry, who arrived late carrying a rather large diameter coach gun. He stood, looking at the folder on the table. Persi could see he was involved with intense inner-dialog.
“Mister Parry, is there something else?” Persi asked.
Parry continued to stand and stare.
“Mister Parry.” Persi said, raising her voice.
He jerked and looked at her, as if she had just popped into the room.
“Is there anything else?” she asked.
“No.” he said flatly, then thought about it. “No, ma’am.”
Persi nodded and he lowered his gun, which until now, she noted, had been pointed at the table and the book.
Parry looked at the folder, then back at Persi, and then he nodded. “We will begin crossing the Gulf of Mexico for Venezuela in an hour. I will ensure this happens smoothly. The weather should be pleasant, at least in the short term so I will be retreating to my stateroom for some long overdue rest and reflection, just a day or so. I will pass this information on to the captain, of course but I wanted you to know as well.”
“Thank you, Mister Parry, quite considerate,” she said. “Good, uh ... resting.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” Parry said and left.
Boots returned a moment later, Aiyana following. Where he stepped into the space, walked to the table and sat, Aiyana stayed near the door several feet away, her hands clinched together at her chin.
“Can you feel this?” Persi asked.
“No, yes, I mean ... I know it’s there, in a spiritual sense but there is no pain.”
“Aiyana, simply to confirm our suspicions,” Boots said, “I would like to slowly unlatch and open the folder, and allow you to tell us when you become ... uncomfortable. May we?”
Her face took on a look of overwhelming concern. It was a face she had seen on the wives of soldiers, when officers showed up at their door.
“We will stop when you feel the least bit uncomfortable,” Persi said.
Aiyana dropped her hand, getting control of her emotions. She closed her eyes and nodded.
Persi unhooked and unwrapped the chain. Aiyana gasped as the last length was unwound, Persi quickly began to reverse direction and replace the chain.
“No, wait,” Aiyana said, her eyes still closed. “It is only uncomfortable, give me a moment to adjust.”
Persi looked at Boots and mouthed, ‘Uncomfortable?’
Boots shrugged, and they turned back to watch the vampire. Waves of emotion washed across her face several times. Once, her face became so tight they thought she might cry out but suddenly there was peace and she smiled.
“Open the folder slowly, please,” she said, her eyes still closed.
Persi reached down and pulled open the folder, slowly, waiting for the same reaction as Jane and John but nothing happened. Aiyana continued to smile. When the leather touched the table and the folder lay wide open, Aiyana opened her eyes and walked forward.
At the table she looked at the papers and slowly reached her hand out. She hesitated smiling, as a child might do when first introduced to a dog. She touched the papers, first the notes, then the original. She pulled her hand back and laughed, not a giggle but as one might after winning a hard fought game of chess.
“You are unhurt?” Persi asked.
Aiyana nodded, “Yes, I have control.”
“How did you manage and can the others do the same?” Boots asked.
“As to the others, no, I don’t think they can. As Jane has explained, I am special in some ways. As to how I managed ...” she smiled and looked up. “It is the same answer. It is hard to explain. It is emotional, mental and spiritual all at the same time.”
She smiled at their expression of confusion. “The book reaches out, it wants to influence. It has no intelligence of its own so it doesn’t care who or what it influences. Apparently humans, or at least most, cannot feel its influence. It’s like a pressure, like a large man on the other side of a door who wants in and is pushing at the door trying open it. In our kind, we leave our doors cracked so we can communicate, you have seen this.”
Persi and Boots nodded.
“So when the force throws the door wide, there is panic and pain as we try to push back, but in this case, the force is so strong we cannot, and the thing that wants in is incredibly evil.”
“And for us, what protects us?” Persi asked.
She smiled again. “Your door is locked. You might sense something on the other side but it cannot get in so you ignore it.”
“And you, what is it you have managed to do?” Boots asked.
“I first recognized that the pain was not physical but mental, and if it is mental I can control it. Then I created a latch on the door that secures it, but allows it to remain open a crack. In this way I can still communicate with my people. For instance, they have told me they are far back in the engine room and the pain is bearable. Perhaps if you only open it on the bridge or the forward observation deck, even further away, it would lessen even more.”
Persi closed the folder and wrapped the chain around it. “We shall close it for a bit, dinner is near after all. Please tell them to move forward to the dining area.” She looked at Boots. “My dearest, would you place this safely in our stateroom? We will research it later, on the observation deck as you have suggested, perhaps in the day while you are asleep.”
Boots nodded and took the leather folder. Persi had used the code words, ‘safely in our stateroom’ to indicate she wanted Boots to lock it in their hidden safe. Though he wasn’t sure why, he complied. She apparently thought something was amiss and he never argued with her in matters of intuition. He smiled, thinking, Well, not much anyway.
Interlude Five – Iron and Red
“Darling, it is divine!” Maggie exclaimed clapping her hands together in their lacy gloves. The estate truly was gorgeous. Sprawling grounds surrounded a stone house that felt reminiscent of a castle from one of those penny dreadfuls she used to read to the other girls at The Pearl.
Two coachmen stepped from the back of the carriage. One pulled a lever and a short puff of steam escaped beneath the carriage as a set of steps expanded below the door. The man helped Maggie to the ground, then stood aside as Brewster ascended.
“I’m so glad you like it, my pet,” Henry Brewster said, “It’s all for you.”
She took his hand and they moved toward the steps, kicking her powder blue walking dress out in front of her carefully. At the steps, he placed his hand low on her back and she cringed inwardly, even as he guided her upward.
“You know I was so pleased that you wanted to take this little impromptu trip with me to see the grounds. We’ll be married in a few days, and it eases my heart to know you love our future home.”
“I can hardly wait, shall we go inside?” she asked, reaching the top step.
“Of course, my new butler and his wife, who will act as our housekeeper are not here to great us but will take up residence tomorrow. Their names are George and Francis Harrington, and they come highly recommended. They will hire the few other staff as needed. Oh, and Herbert York is our grounds keeper. He is already in residence.
Maggie hesitated, causing Brewster to look at her. “Something wrong, my love?”
“Oh, nothing, I didn’t realize we would have company today.”
“Company, oh, you mean, York? No, no my dear. He is not here in the house. He has a cottage at the rear of the property. I suspect you will seldom see him.”
&nb
sp; She smiled. “Thank you, dear. I should have hated to have been startled by some unknown man in our home.”
The second footman stepped in front of them, opened and held the large wooden door as they entered.
“I was a little curious as to why you asked my body guards not to accompany me.” Brewster said, “I am a man with enemies, you know.”
“Oh, darling, I just wanted it to be the two of us, and you said it was already furnished so I thought. . . well,” she gripped his arm tighter. “I thought we might make use of some of the furniture,” she finished with a sly smile.
“But my dear,” he smiled. “I thought you wanted to wait?”
“We are basically married already and, as you know, I am not a newcomer to either the knowledge or the acts. But most of all,” she turned and faced him, “I just can’t wait, my love.”
She saw the hungry look enter his eyes, the look she had seen hundreds of times on hundreds of men. The look that told her she had him.
He glanced at the footman, who stood stoic and unmoving. Maggie noted an imperceptible nod. So he hadn’t left all his men behind. It was a contingency she had planned for. He took her by the arm and moved as quickly as his rotund form would carry him.
Maggie watched the furnishings zip by in a blur. They were rich indeed and culminated in the most beautiful room she had ever stepped foot in, the Master Bedroom. It was perfect. Expensive mahogany paneled the walls while the floor was carpeted with expensive Arabian rugs, and the bed was huge. It’s four posts rose eight feet from which rich crimson draperies hung. She used the little set of steps to reach the mattress and sat provocatively on the edge.
Henry sweated profusely as he unbuttoned his shirt. She waited for him to approach and when he was in reach she tightened her grip on the post of the bed and vaulted off the mattress much like she had vaulted the bar at The Pearl.
She let the momentum carry her to connect with his chest, sending him stumbling backwards. The energy expended against his mass, she fell to the floor and instantly rolled back to her feet, then sprang again, landing on him, a foot to his right side and a knee to his ribs. The crunch of them snapping beneath her weight was satisfying.
“I have waited so long for this,” she hissed.
“Mara, my love, you have betrayed me,” Henry wheezed through excruciating pain.
Maggie spat at him. “Shut up, you pig, and my name is not Mara it is Maggie, you disgusting excuse for a father. Didn’t remember me, did you? Maybe you thought I was dead?”
James burst through the door, closely followed by a dark Asian woman she knew only as Rasha. She was one of his older assassins, her blade dangled, the shine of blood on the blade.
“Back off, James,” Maggie barked. “you promised he was mine.”
“Oh my God, oh my God, my little girl, a whore,” Brewster grunted out. “And me, I was going to … my little Maggie. I’m so sorry, so so sorry. Please, oh God, please …”
His cries ended with a gurgle as in one practiced motion Maggie pulled her blade from the hidden sheath in her corset and sliced his throat. She did not even attempt to move away and blood spurted into her face and dripped into her mouth. She tasted iron and saw red.
Chapter 39 – Crossing to Caracas, and Captured Crew
Boots returned several minutes later to find all the Nightwalkers, Grimm and Persi sitting at the table. Morris had distributed several plates and bowls of snacks around the table and all were involved in tasting them.
Nicholas poured tea, as Morris supervised.
Persi had several cheese crisps on the saucer in front of her, while several small piles of dried meat sat on each of the vampire’s plates. When Boots asked about them, Morris said, he had soaked chunks of organ meats in an herbed liquid before drying them in the sun. Some he left plain, while others he tumbled in brown sugar.
“We much appreciate the extra effort you go to for us, Mister Morris,” Jane said. “If you ever leave employment with Mr. Boots, I’m sure you could come and live with the Nightwalker tribes.”
“I will think about it,” Morris said courteously. He smiled and lifted an eyebrow in warning to Persi and Boots.
“What will you do with that manuscript?” Jane asked.
“Do with ... nothing.” Persi said. “We will read through it to better understand the Elder gods, then return it to the vaults in Arkham, which are designed to safely hold such things.”
She nodded but there was something about her posture that triggered an alarm in Persi. Surly she wouldn’t attempt to use the book, for her own benefit. No, she decided. For the tribe, perhaps, but how?
“Is there something you wish to ask me?” Jane inquired.
Persi realized she had been staring at the woman and shook her head vigorously. “Oh, no, so sorry.” She chuckled and tried to look embarrassed. “I blanked out for a minute.”
“In the little reading we’ve done,” Boots said, “we believe the book was written to lead a person to open, what is described as a gate. With the gate open, these Elder gods could enter our world, or so the book says ... I think. It is not completely translated and what is, is vague and fantastical.”
Aiyana shivered and John shook his head.
“And the book is a way to control them?” Jane asked.
“Possibly,” Boots replied.
Seeming to read Jane’s mind, Persi spoke. “But what is to say that it is true, any of it, but most importantly, who is to say these beings can be controlled at all. What if the book is simply bait? One opens the gate, these Elder gods come through and when someone uses the spells to control them, we find that part was a hoax and they kill us.”
All heads nodded.
“Or, it is as it claims, a tool to acquire access to these beings and their power.” Jane said.
Persi noticed Aiyana watching Jane with a concerned expression.
“That is possible also, however the only way to test it is to attempt it and if it turns out to be the former, we all die. Even the Nightwalkers can be killed.”
“Yes, this is wisdom,” John said and before the discussion could continue, Morris and Nicholas entered with their dinner, or breakfast depending on species.
The discussion went no further after the meal, more the opposite as each Nightwalker drifted off to think, read, or sit on the observation deck and watch the Gulf of Mexico pass beneath. This is where Persi found Aiyana. The weather was warm enough that Persi needed only a shawl.
Aiyana spoke first. “It is a good night to sit on deck, is it not?”
“Yes, it is indeed. Very beautiful, the water is so vast and the night so dark. Where are the others?”
“Did you know that vampires cannot float? That is float in water. We sink right to the bottom which makes it very difficult to swim.”
“I did not know this,” Persi said, sitting on the bench beside the woman.
“We can hold our breath for hours, and we can walk or crawl along the bottom of rivers and lakes, but we must breathe eventually.” She turned and smiled at Persi. “This is why Jane and John are not up here.”
“Fear?” Persi asked.
“Mmm, not fear, let’s call it deep concern.”
Persi smiled back. “Certainly, deep concern.”
They sat quietly for several moments.
“Aiyana, can Jane be trusted? Not in general, I mean, as concerns that book. She seems to believe it could be useful.”
Aiyana nodded. “It is foolish. Like collecting a thousand hornets’ nest to run a bear off. Yes, the bear runs off, but then what do you do with the hornets?”
“Exactly. My thoughts exactly.” Persi paused then jerked her head toward the Nightwalker. “Actually, they were my exact thoughts!”
Aiyana laughed. “Yes, we are spirit sisters. You remember, yes?”
“The thing where I fell down and saw your memories? Oh yes, I remember, but this is not an old memory it is ... it is ...”
“Once you think it, Persi, it is an old memory. I
f it bothers you, I can teach you to guard your thoughts.”
“Yes please. We have such a long trip ahead and well, I don’t want to walk around exposing all my thoughts like ...”
Aiyana interrupted. “Like a lighthouse?”
“Yes, and it can get very annoying having someone answering questions before they’re asked.”
“I understand,” Aiyana said. “We will begin tomorrow.”
“Very well.”
“Perhaps for now, we can sit and look at the stars.” Aiyana suggested.
“Certainly, a grand notion,” Persi said, and pulled her shawl more tightly around her.
Several second later Aiyana laughed. “Yes, Persi, I can still hear your thoughts. I have not taught you anything yet, now be still.”
Persi leaned against Aiyana and laughed.
****
The crossing to Caracas, Venezuela took about fifty hours, and except for the passing squall several miles off the coast, the trip was uneventful. They moored near the Plaza de San Jacinto. Arriving in the morning they witnessed a thriving city as merchant and patron moved back and forth from the city market.
As was his normal behavior, Morris took Nicholas and headed for the market. Near noon, Captain Grimm went to the kitchen to ask for the menu. In secret he was hungry and thought he might get a bite of what Morris had planned for lunch. The captain found neither Morris nor the steward. In the control room, Grimm asked Joseph about the cook. The sooty told Grimm he had seen them disembark around seven-thirty this morning. He found Persi on the observation deck, the large telescope anchored in its station, and her eye pressed against the lens.
“I have not, Captain,” Persi said as she moved the telescope to another spot. “As far as I know he was to retrieve his normal stores load- fresh fruit and vegetables, general cooking supplies like oil, baking powder, salt ... and animal food, of course. I would have expected young Nicholas and him to have returned already.”
“Hmm,” Grimm said, thoughtfully. “I know someone here, an old friend. I will ask her to look into this for me.”
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