by Ilana Waters
I sighed. “Out of the frying pan, at least. Let’s just hope it’s not into the fire.”
Chapter 20
A few feet away from the archway where the Council disappeared was another archway, and we continued through it under Titus’s direction. Although we’d been walking for a long time, I was heartened that Titus felt Ferox was close. Finally, I would find what I’d been seeking for so long.
Suddenly, Titus stopped and held up one hand. “Did you hear that?” he asked.
Without my father’s keen vampire senses, I hadn’t noticed anything. “No,” I replied. “What was it?”
My father inhaled deeply, then waited. After a moment, he shook his head. “Nothing.” But his eyes flickered to the darkened corridor we’d just left. A few minutes later, he stopped again.
“Dammit,” he said, “I know I heard something. And smelled something.”
“Smelled something?” I asked. “Like what?”
Titus inhaled again. “I don’t know. Old books and tea and some kind of metal.”
Books . . . tea . . . There was a distinctive crunch behind us, like someone’s boot over broken pottery. Then a familiar voice: “Oh, bloody hell.” Titus and I whirled around.
“Arthur?” I cried.
The old man was wearing a miner’s helmet, the kind with a lamp on it. Slung across his body was a leather satchel, full of some manner of supplies, I presumed. When he realized the jig was up, his eyebrows knit in determination and he pointed his weapon straight at us.
“Arthur, what in God’s name are you doing here?” I demanded. “And why do you have a crossbow?”
That must have been the metal Titus caught the scent of. Arthur had certainly come prepared; I could even see a quiver of bolts mounted on the bow. I wondered if it was the same one I’d seen in his office in London, or if the Roman PIA possessed some sort of arsenal. If it was the latter, I decided I didn’t want to know.
Titus raised his eyebrows at Arthur, then at the old-time firearm. “Is that for me?”
Arthur stiffened and raised the crossbow so that it was pointing more towards my father. “If necessary, yes,” he replied, his voice a little shaky.
“Careful,” Titus said. “If you irritate me, I’ll not only kill you, I’ll come after your friends and family.”
“Joke’s on you,” Arthur retorted. “Most of them are dead.” Titus took a step forward, and Arthur tightened his grip on the crossbow.
I held my hands up between them. “Gentlemen! Can we call a cease-fire for just a moment? For Fate’s sake, Arthur,” I said, “why didn’t you just bring a shotgun?”
“I don’t own one,” he replied.
“Yet you own a crossbow?”
“Not that either can kill vampires,” said Titus, “but such weapons might wound them badly enough to slow them down.” My father looked more closely at the crossbow. “Are you prepared to use that thing?”
“I wouldn’t have brought it if I weren’t,” replied Arthur. I had to confess, the old man seemed tougher than I’d given him credit for. “But the truth is, it wasn’t primarily for you,” he told Titus. Then he turned to me. “On the phone with your father, you mentioned other vampires—ones who might want to protect Ferox. I figured if we ran into them, it would help to have the proper equipment.”
“How did you hear that conversation?” Titus asked. He looked me with accusing eyes. “I thought you said you took care of the problem.”
“I did!”
“Then why is he still here?” he asked.
“Because he’s not a problem!”
“I most certainly am not,” Arthur said.
“And you—shouldn’t you be safe in bed at this hour?” I asked him. “Whatever happened to paranormal investigation being a ‘young man’s game?’ ”
Arthur pursed his lips. “That was before I was thrown in a jail cell,” he said.
“A jail cell?” Titus flung his arms in the air. “I knew you didn’t have the stomach.”
Arthur looked nervously from me to my father and back, the light from his helmet lamp moving this way and that.
“Will you turn that damn thing off and stop flashing it in my eyes?” Titus squinted and put his hand over his brow.
“Yes, we’ve got a light, Arthur.” I nodded at the magic ball floating above us. “Perhaps you can save the batteries or whatnot on your hat. And I’m fairly certain you can put your weapon down now. We’re all on the same side, yes?”
Arthur narrowed his eyes at Titus as if he wasn’t so sure. He looked at me again, sighed, and lowered the crossbow. Then he reached up and turned off the helmet lamp.
“Now, why don’t I introduce you two?” I said. “Arthur, this is my father, Titus Aurelius. You, ah, probably know everything there is to know about him.”
“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Arthur said, but his eyes were still wary. I could see him examining Titus closely. It must be exciting for him, actually meeting the vampire he’d been studying his entire life. Of course, I’m sure he never imagined the meeting would go quite like this.
“Father, this is Arthur Hartwood, manager of the PIA’s London branch,” I said. “He’s spent a lifetime studying you.”
“Charmed, I’m sure,” my father said in a voice full of disdain.
“Wonderful,” I said. “Now that we all know each other, why don’t you tell me how you escaped the cell, Arthur?”
Now it was Arthur’s turn to be disdainful. “Son, I’ve worked for the PIA long enough to know a thing or two. There’s a certain way to work the bars on that cell so that the whole arrangement comes loose. But you have to do it in a special order—no prisoner would ever guess it if they didn’t already know.”
“Brilliant,” Titus groaned.
“Arthur,” I said in a low voice, “what I’m about to say is very important. Have you told anyone about all this yet?”
Arthur hesitated before answering. “I haven’t,” he finally said. “I gathered my supplies, left the PIA, and came straight here.”
“Good,” Titus said to me, seeming relieved. “He may die tonight leaving no record of your existence or investigation. There’s a bright side to everything.”
“Yes, Father—it’s important we think positively,” I said over my shoulder. To Arthur, I mouthed the word sorry. “But why on earth did you follow us?” I asked.
Arthur looked guiltily at the ground. “What you said about your mum . . . is that really true? Is she really being held captive?”
“I’m afraid so,” I replied. “We don’t know if she’s . . . but we still have hope.”
There were a few seconds of awkward silence. Then Arthur cleared his throat. “I thought about what you said, about what I would have done if it were me. I was wrong to call you cold and conniving. If it had been my mum, God rest her soul, I would’ve acted exactly the same. And even though you lied to the PIA—to me—I can’t blame you for it. I figured if there was anything I could do to help, then I ought to be doing it.”
“Very caring,” Titus remarked, “but how did you know where the Temple of Aradia and the secret passage was? Unless you entered by other means.”
Arthur pursed his lips. “Mr. Aurelius, PIA does stand for Paranormal Investigation Agency, after all. It’s my job to know. We were aware the Temple of Aradia had a secret passageway underground. In fact, we’ve known for centuries. We just didn’t know it was the entrance to where the witches of old kept Callix Ferox. We weren’t even sure if he was still around. But I figured if you two were meeting at the temple and looking for him, well, where else could he be?”
“Am I the only one who finds it disturbing these mortals seem to know more about us than we do?” Titus asked me.
“Too late to worry about that now,” I answered. Despite my father’s protests, I brought Arthur up to date on who I really was—the whole of it—and the events surrounding my investigation, the crystal, and everything else.
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br /> “Fantastic, son,” Titus said when I was finished. “Just tell this meddling mortal everything as if it didn’t pose an enormous risk to our safety.”
“Look.” I turned to Titus. “If he’s essentially marching into battle with us, I think he deserves the truth. Besides, ignorance of the facts can only be a disadvantage, depending on what we might face.”
“And according to you, I might die before the evening’s out anyway,” Arthur said to Titus. “So either way, you’ve nothing to fear.”
“I can’t see what help you could possibly be,” my father replied to Arthur. “A mere mortal—and with all due respect, an older one at that. More of a liability than anything else, if you ask me.”
“Well, he’s here now, so it’s a bit pointless to discuss assets versus liabilities,” I said. “Besides, he does have a weapon, one technically capable of wounding a vampire. And just to bring things completely up to speed,” I asked Arthur, “am I to presume you were there for our most recent conversation with the High Council?”
“That was part of the High Council?” Arthur’s jaw dropped. “I thought they were just regular witches! Powerful ones, obviously, but not the Council. I was listening outside the room, and poked my head around a time or two, but I don’t think anyone saw me. My, I’m going to have quite a report to write up later tonight.”
“If you live that long,” Titus said.
I turned to my father. “And how exactly—with your keen vampire senses—could you not realize a mortal was following us?” I asked him.
“I suppose I was a little distracted, what with us being surrounded by half the High Council,” Titus shot back. “And before that, I was concentrating on how to find Ferox. Something I am still trying to do.” He glared at me.
“In your father’s defense, I did keep a good distance behind,” piped up Arthur.
“And you!” I pointed at Arthur. “I trust we can expect absolute secrecy about anything you see or hear tonight?”
“Who would I tell,” asked Arthur, “aside from normal record keeping for the PIA?”
“Again, if you live that long,” said Titus.
“Will you stop it with that?” I hissed.
“It’s all right; it’s true,” said Arthur. “But I’m not afraid.” Indeed, his voice had more resolve in it now than before. “We should carry on.”
“I’ll admit, you have some brave friends,” Titus remarked. “Or foolish ones. I’m not sure which yet.”
We kept going, and soon came to an abandoned aqueduct, moving carefully along its narrow ridge. I made the mistake of looking down; there was nothing but darkness whose bottom I could not see. Arthur’s foot started to slip, and he gave a panicked cry. My hand shot out to steady him.
Arthur struggled back up, swallowed hard, and regained his footing. “Close call, that,” he whispered.
Titus turned his head to look at us. “Will you two watch where you’re going?”
“Why are we following him again?” Arthur asked.
“Because his vampire senses will help lead us to Ferox,” I reminded him.
“Ah, vampire senses. I forgot that’s how he can see so far ahead with the magic light several feet from him,” said Arthur. “Speaking of seeing, are you wearing contacts? You don’t appear to have your glasses.” He paused. “They were fake, weren’t they?”
“I’m sorry, Arthur,” I said, casting my eyes down. They instantly glimpsed the darkness beneath us, and I quickly looked back up.
“Never mind,” Arthur sighed. “Undoubtedly the most minor of lies you told me.”
“I’m sorry about that too, Arthur. Truly I am. And for locking you up. It’s not as if I wanted to.”
“No hard feelings,” Arthur said as we reached the end of the aqueduct. “Now, if it had been Philip who needed locking up . . .” he said with a grin.
I smiled as well. “Yes, Philip would have been a completely different story,” I said.
“And I’m sorry for the ah, erm . . .” Arthur made a fist and pushed it forward towards my stomach.
“You never told me you trained as a prizefighter,” I said. “But coming down here, helping us . . . doesn’t it violate your ‘close, but not too close’ motto?” I asked.
“There’s a time to follow rules and a time to break them,” Arthur replied.
I nodded. “Very philosophical. Hey—do you want me to carry that for you?” I indicated the crossbow. “It must be heavy, and you’ve been lugging it for a while now.”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Arthur said. “Don’t forget—I was carrying it the entire time I followed you.” I hadn’t forgotten; that was rather the point. This was quite a lot for one old man to take on. My memory flashed to the conversation with the PIA’s London receptionist, how it had been years since Arthur was out in the field. I hoped he was up for this.
We’d reached a necropolis now—two stories of deep crevices in the stone where human remains lay. Not only were we surrounded by walls of death, but there were other tombs planted throughout the space—elaborately carved sarcophagi and marble houses for the wealthier classes. The poor would have been shoved into the crevices en masse and forgotten.
Since ancient law forbade burying the dead directly underneath Rome, the presence of these catacombs could only mean we’d walked outside city limits. In that case, we’d gone even farther than I thought. But if there was a good place to keep a troublesome vampire, I imagined this would be it.
Titus seemed to agree. He stopped in front of a massive boulder, covering the entrance to an intricately carved tomb. I recognized several arcane Wiccan words and symbols, though I couldn’t translate them. I wondered if Titus could.
“I’m going to move this out of the way,” he said, indicating the boulder. “And I want you two to be prepared for whatever’s in there.”
Arthur and I nodded. “You need any help?” I asked.
Titus scowled. “If I needed help, I would have asked for it,” he said.
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender, looked at Arthur, and shrugged. Arthur readied his crossbow, and I rubbed my hands over one another, gathering magic. My father started to move the boulder, and we listened to it creak and groan as it rolled across the floor.
“Your dad’s a tough one,” Arthur noted.
“You have no idea,” I said dryly.
“Though I still don’t understand how a vampire can father a child,” he said.
“It’s a mystery to all of us,” I agreed. “But you know, Arthur, I’m curious; you said you listened to our conversation with the High Council. So how do you know I don’t really want the crystal for Ferox? I could have been lying to them. How do you know I’m not as bloodthirsty as my father?” I whispered. Titus clenched his teeth and bent his head down as he continued pushing the boulder. Clearly, it was a struggle even for him.
“Because you didn’t kill me when you had the chance,” Arthur said. “I may be an old man, Joshua, but I’m not a fool. I know you could easily have finished me off instead of imprisoning me. From what I’ve seen of your father, he wouldn’t have hesitated to do the former. But I was wrong. You’re not like him. I’m sorry I ever said you were.”
I looked at my father, who was almost finished moving the boulder. “It’s all right,” I replied. He can be a ruthless beast sometimes, but . . . “Perhaps it’s time I stopped taking it as an insult.”
Titus gave the boulder one last heave, and it rolled a few feet past the tomb’s entrance and stopped. We all took several cautious steps towards the door frame. So far, nothing had come out of it. My heart began to beat faster. This was it. There was no turning back now.
Slowly, we walked under the tomb’s archway, with my father in the lead. Despite its elaborate outer appearance, the inside of the tomb was less civilized—and deceptively larger. This truly did look like a cave. There was a long ledge of rock that ran the circumference, which was wide enough for us to walk on. Giant stalacti
tes jutted down from the ceiling, and a few stalagmites rose up from the ground like reedy volcanoes. The ceiling was at least several stories high, and the floor was littered with debris.
Besides the usual dirt and rocks, there were skeletal remains of what I assumed were the vampires’ more recent victims. These were definitely fresher than the ones in the tombs we’d just passed. I felt my stomach turn over. But the shock of these barely registered compared to what was in the center of the cavern.
Resting on the flattened surface of a craggy rock, on a long pedestal, lay my mother.
Chapter 21
I gasped, Arthur cried out, and Titus just stared straight ahead at Abigail. Her eyes were closed and her hands lay in her lap. She was unmoving, and from this distance, I couldn’t tell if she was breathing.
“Is she . . .” I choked.
“No,” said Titus quickly. He didn’t have to read my mind to know what I was thinking. “I’d smell it if she was. As far as I can tell, these are the only dead people in the room.” He indicated the human bones, and I saw Arthur grimace.
I recognized my mother’s outfit from the night she disappeared. It was a long, gauzy dress she often wore around the house. In this light, it made her look like a Roman goddess. Shimmers in the dark green fabric reflected the light of minerals studded in the cave walls, making the dress seem to sparkle. Her arms were bare, and her hair was done up with several bands across the front, typical of her bohemian style. She looked even more beautiful than I remembered.
Her long skirt flowed like water over the side of the pedestal, and waves of memories washed over me. Abigail at the library, on the train, humming in her room. I swore I could smell her perfume—the wisteria, the hyacinth—all the way from here. All I wanted to do was bury my face in her hair, the way I did when I was a child. To know that she was finally safe.
“I can’t believe it,” I whispered. “After all this time, all this searching, it really is her. She’s actually fifty feet in front of us, like some Wiccan Sleeping Beauty.”
