by Craig Zerf
‘Pack!’ Repeated the Wolves as their Omega left the room.
Troy followed the pack leader, planning on speaking more to him. But before he could, the Omega stripped down, changed into full Wolf and loped off into the forest at speed. So instead he simply went back into the main house and sat down in the kitchen. He sat for over half an hour, alone with his thoughts. His contemplations. His plans.
Tag broke his reverie as he banged open the door and set to preparing a pot of tea. He poured two mugs full, handed one to Troy and sat down opposite him.
‘Wassup?’ He asked. ‘You look like your dog ate your canary.’
Troy decided to tell Tag his plan, starting with what had just transpired with the pack and the Omega. When he had finished the big man sat silent for a few minutes. Then he spoke.
‘You got big balls, Wolfman,.’ He said. ‘So if I get you right, you want to disobey your Omega, split from the Pack, take a Vampire with you while you steal what is probably the most guarded relic in the world so that you can make said Vampire a Daywalker and at the same time save me from been eaten every night. That about right?’
Troy shrugged. ‘About right, I suppose. Except there is one thing I didn’t tell you.’
‘Pray tell then, Wolfman,’ urged Tag. ‘It really doesn’t matter what you may or may not have omitted, because I don’t see how it could make things any more difficult.’
‘Well, I’m not one hundred percent sure where the actual Corona Potestatum is. I mean, I know it’s in Europe, hidden in the Fey communities under the major cities, but not sure exactly where. Could be a variety of places. You see, none of us know. It’s moved around all the time to prevent it being found.’
Tag laughed. ‘I doubt that will be a huge problem,’ he said. ‘I reckon that the Pack will hunt us down and kill us before we even get out of the country. Whatever, I’m in. If there’s a chance of helping the girly then we gotta take it, whatever the risk.’
‘As am I,’ said Sylvian. Both Tag and Troy did a double take. The Bloodborn had entered the room so silently that even the heightened senses of the Werewolf had not noticed him. ‘You won’t get anywhere without me,’ continued the Frenchman. ‘I know Europe; I know the Fay underworld that you will be entering. And I know how to travel at night, how to keep out of the sun. How to survive traveling as a Vampire.’
‘Why would you help us?’ Asked Troy.
‘Because I believe that you are correct, young Wolf. I believe that Emily Shadowhunter could well be something special.’
Tag raised an eyebrow. ‘Could it also be that you would love to have some compatriots help you search for the Potestatum so that you, yourself could claim it. Then you would be the Daywalker.’
Sylvian nodded. ‘That did cross my mind. How could it not? But, no, I think that it is not my destiny. It is Emily’s.’
‘I want to leave tonight,’ said Troy. ‘In fact as soon as possible. It should give us a full night’s lead. Enough time to get out of the country if we are lucky.’
Tag nodded. I agree. Let me fetch Emily.’ He stood up. Both Troy and Sylvian could see the tension on the big man’s shoulders as he started to walk from the room. ‘Give me ten minutes or so,’ he said. ‘She will have woken with the hunger and will need to feed.’
Troy nodded. ‘I’ll pack what we need. Meet us around the back where all of the cars are parked.’
Tag left the room without looking back and Troy and Sylvian went to collect bags and rucksacks to pack.
Chapter 10
Troy crept around the side of the house and across to the area where all of the transport was situated. It was dark but he had no need of a flashlight as his Werewolf eyes saw just as well in the moonlight as the sun.
Sylvian was already there, standing next to one of the Range Rovers. He was smiling, his lips pulled up in his typical sardonic expression of amusement.
‘What’s so funny,’ asked Troy.
‘If you had to choose any of the SUV’s which one would it be?’
Troy cast a quick glance around the lot. ‘The one that we’re standing next to,’ he answered. ‘It’s newer, good condition, and it’s the only one with tinted windows so even if the sun came up it would help protect you and Em.’
Sylvian nodded. ‘I concur,’ he said. Then he opened the front passenger door. On the seat was a large briefcase. He opened it. ‘Here, take a look.’
Troy leaned over. The case was full of high denomination Euros, Pound Sterling notes and Dollars, at least fifty thousand Dollars worth of currency. Lying on top of the money was a sheaf of passports, both European and Russian. The young Wolfman picked up a couple and flicked through them. They had various different names, some female, most male. There were no photos. There were also ten cell phones.
‘All you need to do is affix a photo ID and you have a genuine passport,’ explained the Bloodborn. ‘Also, all of the sim cards on the phones are for international roaming. I checked. Prepaid burner phones.’
‘That’s fantastic,’ said Troy. ‘Where did you get all of this?’
Sylvian laughed softly. ‘Didn’t. It was here already.’
‘But…how?’
‘William,’ answered the Frenchman. ‘He knew what we would do. Obviously, as Omega and protector of the Potestatum, he cannot give us permission. However, he has given us his blessing. There is more.’ Sylvian reached into his pocket and took out a ring. Gold, the Wolf’s crest on it, picked out in silver with a small ruby eye. He gave it to Troy. ‘This was also in the case. I assume it is for you, Wolfman. The ring is Sir William’s seal. You will find that it commands great respect where we are all going.’
‘Well then it’s probably for you,’ argued Troy. ‘Why would he give me his seal?’
‘Because you are Wolfman,’ said Sylvian. ‘You are Pack. He would never give me this ring. Trust me.’
Troy accepted the gold ring and slipped it onto his finger. It fitted perfectly. As he did so both Emily and Tag arrived. The big man looked unsteady on his feet and Troy noticed that, although he had obviously changed his shirt, there were still traces of blood on his collar.
Emily looked strong and healthy but her eyes belied her outward appearance as they flicked from side to side, never resting. Haunted. Full of despair and self-loathing.
‘Hey,’ exclaimed Tag as he threw two haversacks into the SUV. ‘That be a lavatory full of cash. Where you get it?’
‘William,’ answered Troy. ‘He also left me this ring. It’s his seal.’
Tag shook his head. ‘Man, these Wolves can’t make up their minds. So, they for us or against us?’
‘Yes,’ said Sylvian with a smile.
‘Thought so,’ quipped Tag. ‘Well that helps to clear up nothing. Troy, can you drive? I think that I’ll be taking a short nap. Where we going first anyway?’
The Wolfman shrugged.
‘We head East,’ said Sylvian as he climbed into the passenger seat. ‘I can’t remember the exact route but let me make a call and get directions. A friend of mine owns a private airfield and a few passenger planes. He can get us to Europe by sun up.’
They all got in; Troy started the Range Rover and pulled out, driving slowly to keep the noise down. Once they were out of the immediate surrounds he put his foot down and picked up speed.
From the depth of the forest a pair of shining eyes watched them leave. And then the huge Wolf threw his head back and howled mournfully, the sound an aching salute to his own loneliness. Acknowledgement of his solitude.
The call of the Omega Wolf.
Leader.
Alone.
Chapter 11
They had flown from a small airstrip situated in Surrey, a few hours’ drive from William’s forest hideout. Sylvian’s friend had turned out to be a small, dark taciturn man who communicated in grunts, nods and short monosyllabic sentences. Sylvian called him Latobias but the dark man informed the rest of them that his name was Doug. For some reason this had greatly amused the Blood
born Frenchman.
He had piloted the six seater Beech Baron with a deft hand, taking off in the dark and then landing less than half an hour later, without the use of landing lights, at another private airfield somewhere outside Paris.
During the short flight, Troy had explained that the Corona Potestatum had been protected by the wereWolves for many hundreds of years. There were always at least two Wolves personally protecting the item itself but its safety was doubly ensured as Wolves always stayed in one of the hidden cities that were situated under some of the major cities in Europe. As well as this, the Potestatum was constantly moved on a random basis to prevent anyone tracking it down. However, the three most likely places were Paris, Rome or Cluj Napoca, the capital city of Transylvania.
With Paris being the closest they had decided to start there.
After they had landed, Sylvian opened the briefcase and took out a thick wad of money. He offered it to Latobias but the dark man refused, shaking his head and then ignoring the offering. Sylvian did not argue and simply returned the cash to the case.
As soon as the four friends had alighted, the plane took off and climbed rapidly away.
‘Where are we?’ Asked Troy.
‘Near the Maison Forestière,’ answered Sylvian. ‘A short drive from Paris.’
The Wolfman glanced at his watch. ‘Impossible,’ he said. ‘We flew for around twenty minutes. It would take us over an hour to get here.’
Sylvian shrugged. ‘And yet here we are.’
‘How?’ Insisted Troy.
‘When he is in the air, Latobias is not subject to the normal constraints that we are.’
‘That means nothing,’ argued Troy. ‘Explain.’
‘Latobias is the Celtic god of wind and air,’ explained Sylvian. ‘Great friend to have when you need to travel and get there quickly.’
Troy looked impressed. ‘Wow,’ he exclaimed. ‘That’s the first god that I’ve ever met.’
‘Get used to it,’ returned Sylvian. ‘Where we’re heading you’re going to meet a lot more. And most of them are decidedly unimpressive.’
As they were talking, a long wheel based Mercedes arrived. Dark blue with heavily tinted windows. It pulled up beside them and a driver stepped out, threw them a salute and opened the back door.
‘And who would this be?’ Asked Tag. ‘The god of luxury transport.’
Em and Tag smiled but Sylvian merely raised an eyebrow. Em got into the back first, followed by the rest of the men. The car had been stretched slightly, just enough to fit four large seats on the back, a couple of sets facing one another. But it had not been stretched so far as to make it conspicuous. In between the driver and the passengers was a tinted sheet of privacy glass. All of the windows were tinted dark enough so that even the sunniest of days would allow both Em and Sylvian full protection from the UV light.
‘This is a company that I often use for transport in Europe. They are geared to chauffeur celebrities around, hence the tinted windows and the luxury.’ He gestured around the cabin. ‘Here, a full bar with snacks. Bullet proof glass and doors. The drivers are all ex-special forces and the company itself is the picture of discretion.’
Tag nodded in approval. ‘Nice,’ he admitted. ‘Where to from here?’
‘I have a place in Paris,’ answered Sylvian. ‘In the Saint Germain-des-Prés, 6th Arrondissement next to the River Seine. It is uniquely suited to our quest.’
‘In what way?’ Asked Troy.
‘You’ll see,’ answered the Frenchman.
The trip took longer than they all expected. Even though it was late at night the traffic in the city was bumper to bumper and the drivers drove with Gallic fervor, shouting, hooting and gesticulating at each other. But before the sun came up the driver steered the limousine through a set of private electric gates and into an underground parking. Once again he alighted, opened the door, saluted and left without comment.
Sylvian led the party to a non-descript doorway. Next to the door was a discrete glass panel. The Bloodborn held his hand against it and a light flickered across his palm.
‘Digital palm print access,’ he explained. ‘Top of the line security.’
The door swung open and they followed Sylvian up a short flight of stairs and into a large entrance hall. The décor was beyond magnificent. Genuine Louis XV furniture, hand woven carpets on marble flooring, crystal chandeliers glittered in the high ceilings and an eclectic mix of Monet, Degas and Duchamp paintings lined the walls.
And this was just the entrance hall.
They continued to follow the Bloodborn through a set of double doors and up a flight of steps into a large drawing room. The opposite wall to the entrance was one vast glass window. Troy noticed the slight distortion as he looked through it and, after checking the sides of the installation, deduced that the glass must be at least four inches thick. Obviously bullet proof. The view of the Seine was spectacular.
‘It is close to sunrise,’ said Sylvian. ‘But do not worry. I have installed a few technological safety devices.’ He flicked a switch on the wall and the huge sheet of glass went instantly dark. One could still see through it but it was almost opaque. ‘I have activated the solar screen manually,’ said the Bloodborn. ‘But the moment the sun rises it will also activate automatically.’
‘Got any food,’ asked Troy.
‘Sure,’ answered Sylvian. ‘Follow me.’
They trooped through to a large eat-in kitchen and the Frenchman started loading foodstuffs onto the central table. Loaves of bread, a vast array of charcuterie, cheeses, pates, pickles and patisseries. There was also wine, beer and sodas.
‘The place is always stocked,’ explained the Frenchman. ‘Even if I am not here.’
Both Troy and Tag attacked the food with gusto. Emily looked away, slightly nauseated by anything that wasn’t human blood.
‘Right,’ said Sylvian. ‘Troy, you say that the Potestatum is secreted in one of the major Unseen Cities.’
Troy nodded and then swallowed quickly so that he could answerer. ‘Yep, Paris, Rome or Cluj in Transylvania.’
‘I wouldn’t consider Cluj to be a major city,’ interrupted Tag.
‘It is to the Faye Folk,’ said Sylvian.
‘And what about London?’ Continued Tag. ‘Surely that is one of the major European cities.’
The Frenchman shook his head. ‘Unseen London was destroyed in the Second World War. It was decided by the Unseen Council that it would remain as a memorial. Apparently some folk still live there but it is frowned upon. Anyway, have any of you been to one of the Unseen Cities?’
All three shook their heads.
‘Right then,’ continued Sylvian. ‘They are basically cities situated underground. They have been there pretty much since there above ground counterparts and sometimes even before. As mankind grew more powerful and the Christian God started to hold more sway, the minor gods of earth and field and elements started to lose much of their power, as did their minions and children. Trolls, goblins, Orcs, pixies, elves and the rest. They became more mortal. Similar to powerful versions of ourselves. I say similar…but not the same. Even in modern society a seven foot elf with their pointed ears and huge slanted eyes will stand out like a porcupine at a nudist colony. Although most of the Faye people can project a disguise of sorts when they are in above ground society, it is very stressful to do so. As a result, they would rather simply stay apart. Hence, the Unseen Cities.’
‘So the Unseen Cities are like reservations for Faye Folk,’ said Tag.
‘I wouldn’t quite put it that way,’ answered Sylvian. ‘But, essentially, yes.’
‘Cool,’ said Tag. ‘So then, let’s go to this Unseen Paris, find the wereWolves that are holding the Potestatum and job done.’
‘It’s called Pareen,’ said the Frenchman. ‘Unseen Paris is Pareen. Unseen Rome, Romeen. Cluj is Cluj, no change. Look, it’s not that simple. Firstly, Pareen is huge. It’s a major city. Secondly, and this is where things start to g
et seriously complicated, it’s full of cats.’
‘Cats?’ Asked Troy and Emily at the same time.
Sylvian laughed. ‘Many thousands of cats. More cats than people. All of the Unseen Cities are.’
‘Why?’ Asked Emily.
‘Because cats, most animals actually, are terrified of Vampires and WereWolves. They go mental in the presence of either.’
‘I don’t get it,’ said Troy. ‘So what?’
‘So they don’t allow WereWolves or Vampires into the Unseen Cities,’ explained Sylvian. ‘And to ensure that they can’t simply sneak in, the council makes sure that there are cats everywhere. A Werewolf or Vamp tries to walk around and the cats go berserk. Nowhere to hide.’
‘Why no Vamps or Wolves?’ Asked Troy.
‘The Unseen Council look on the Unseen Cities as places of refuge. As such they want no part of the war between Vamp and Wolf. And, although the cities are large, they aren’t big enough for two such mortal enemies. Back in the day, some five hundred years ago, they were both allowed in. The resulting wars almost destroyed the cities. So now, no Vamps. No Wolves. End of problems.’
‘Well that means Em, Troy and you can’t go in,’ said Tag.
‘I’m not a Vampire,’ snapped Sylvian. ‘I’m Bloodborn. So technically I am allowed in.’
‘But what about the cats?’ Continued Tag.
‘Cats love me,’ answered Sylvian. ‘They’re only terrified of WereWolves and Vampires because a Werewolf is an apex predator and a Vampire simply wants to kill everything. I don’t need blood to survive so I don’t give off that killing vibe.’
‘So it just be Tag and you,’ said the big man. ‘Not sure about that, Troy got the seal and I don’t like to leave Em alone. How we gonna do this? And anyway, if there be no WereWolves then how come Troy’s brothers are down there with the Potestatum.’
Sylvian shrugged. ‘Good question. I can only assume that they have found some manner of loophole, after all, the Omega says that they are there so they must be there. Secondly, it’s theoretically possible to get Troy and Em in,’ observed Sylvian. ‘But it’s all going to rely on Emily. I’m sure that she can do it.’
