by Craig Zerf
‘Bullcrap,’ laughed Tag. ‘If it were the garden then they all would have stayed, not all left. It be paradise in the Garden. Everybody knows that.’
‘I am only saying what I have heard,’ said the count. ‘I’m not arguing a point. I’m sorry, Duc,’ he said to Sylvian. ‘That is all that I have.’
‘It’s better than nothing, I suppose.’
‘Really?’ Asked Tag. ‘Search for the two wereWolves in the Garden of Eden. Seriously? Man, once again this all just keeps getting freakier and freakier.’
‘Any idea where we can start looking?’ Asked Sylvian as he stood up.
The count shook his head. ‘I would suggest the ruins. Go beyond them and look for a way down. But that’s a mere guess.’
‘Fine, thank you, count,’ the Bloodborn bowed slightly and walked away.
The rest followed leaving the count alone.
Chapter 14
Nathan bit back the scream of agony that threatened to tear itself from his throat. It felt as though his blood had turned to molten steel in his veins. An ocean of red hot pain.
This was not the first time that it had happened. In fact, it was the seventh. The first couple of times Nathan was convinced that he was undergoing the true death. No one could experience such pain and live through it. But he was wrong. And more than wrong. Because, truth be told, after each agonizing experience he had emerged stronger, faster and more powerful than before. Metamorphosis through fire. A step closer to reaching the absolute acme of evolution. Darwinism taken to its ultimate extreme.
He had worked out what the process was…it was his body fighting an infection. Burning out the impurities. Now that he was a true Nosferatu his physical being had to destroy the hundreds of years of Shadowhunter DNA. He had to be purified, enhanced and upgraded.
So he now welcomed these periodic bouts of pain.
He had spent the last few days acquainting himself with the council of elders that the Capo had put above him. And he had come to a conclusion. They were weak. Shortsighted. They were content. And to Nathan, contentment was the ultimate weakness.
He was determined that his brethren would rise up. They would control. They would lead. No more lurking in the shadows. He wanted them to be the apex predators that they should be. That they were entitled to be.
The Capo had given him access to vast amounts of power and then he had truncated it by putting the council in as a buffer. But Nathan knew that the one thing that the Capo would always agree to was anything that furthered his ambition to find the so called Potestatum. The artifact that would allow any Vampire to become a Daywalker. All powerful.
So Nathan has decided to bend all of his attention to seeking the Potestatum. He would stop at nothing to find it, no sacrifice would be too large. And when he found it he would present it to the Capo.
‘Like hell he would,’ laughed the ex-Shadowhunter. With the Potestatum he would become…
Nathan Tremblay – the Daywalker.
He was gripped by another bout of agony as the fires that were annealing him started again…burning out the impurities, the weaknesses.
Leaving only the purest steel behind.
Chapter 15
‘Don’t stare,’ advised Sylvian.
‘Can’t help it,’ replied Tag. ‘Check that dude. He’s got four arms. Sort of.’
‘Two arms, actually,’ said Sylvian. The other pair of appendages are furled wings. He’s a sprite.’
‘Though sprites were tiny,’ stated Tag.
‘Sometimes. Now come on, keep moving, this is hard enough for Emily without your constant stopping and gawking.’
‘You can’t blame him,’ said Em in Tag’s defense. ‘After all, it is like we just fell down the rabbit hole. This place is freakier than Alice’s wonderland. I keep expecting the Red Queen to pitch up, or the Mad Hatter.’
‘Off with their heads,’ laughed Troy.
‘Not funny,’ said Tag. ‘I don’t like jokes involving decapitation. Too close to reality right now.’
As they walked further from the club the buildings began to look noticeably more run down. There were less of the magik light-balls and the streets were uneven with many missing cobbles. Instead of the bustle of street vendors there were more beings lurking in shadowy alleyways, peering from open doorways. Whispering entreaties as they passed by. Selling their bodies as much as the lure of drugs, hard liquor and other nefarious items.
After another twenty minutes of fast walking it was as if night had fallen. The odd light-ball skittered across the roof, casting moonlight shadows before leaving the area seemingly even darker than before.
‘This is the dark-district,’ said Sylvian. ‘Where the nocturnal creatures live and play. Also a bit of a den of iniquity. Keep your eyes skinned. If you see something that looks out of place, tell me. Do not attack anyone or anything without my say-so. Get it?’
The rest nodded.
‘Good. The ruins are through this section. There was a catastrophic fire many, many years go and they simply abandoned that section of the city. Easier than clearing and rebuilding.’
They continued to trudge through the eternal twilight of the dark-district, eyes scanning from side to side like a squad of veterans in Vietnam.
‘We got movement,’ said Tag. ‘Three o’clock. Couple of them. Big.’
‘I see them,’ confirmed Sylvian. ‘Night trolls. They’ve been following us for the last few minutes.’
‘What do we do?’ Asked Troy.
‘You and Emily do nothing,’ urged Sylvian. ‘Stay close to Em. And Emily, pale blue. Concentrate.’
‘Doesn’t seem to be as many cats about anymore,’ noted Tag.
‘There aren’t,’ agreed Sylvian. ‘But there are still many more than you think, in the shadows, hiding, stalking.’
‘They’re getting closer,’ said Tag as he drew one of his massive silenced custom weapons.
‘Don’t do anything yet,’ said Sylvian. ‘They’re nasty characters but they could just be checking us out. Curiosity. Wait for them to make a move before you react.’
There was a flurry of movement and Tag’s weapon thumped twice. The silencer dulling the report to that of a large telephone directory being dropped onto a wooden table. Far from silent but not very loud.
The two night trolls fell to the floor only yards away. Shorter than normal trolls, hunched backed, undershot jaws and massive, overdeveloped arms that hung to the floor. Both had been hit in the center if their chests by Tag’s ordnance. Both were dead.
‘Is that what you call, not reacting?’ Asked Sylvian, his voice tight with anger.
‘Hey, they moved towards us. I stopped them. Don’t come over all pissed with me,’ argued Tag. ‘It may be that I can’t be killed but I also don’t much fancy being on the receiving end of those two boys while they rip my arms off and beat me with the wet ends.’
The Bloodborn took a deep breath. ‘Okay, fine. They probably were up to no good. And rather safe than sorry.’
‘What do we do with the bodies?’ Asked Troy.
‘Nothing. Leave them. The Gnolls will take them.’
‘Gnolls?’ Questioned Tag.
‘Sort of a humanoid hyena. Scavenger. Horrible things but they do have their uses in times like these. Come on, let’s keep moving.’
They carried on walking. Tag reloaded his magazine before holstering the firearm.
It was obvious that they were now entering the ruins. Burned out shells of buildings and piles of rubble.
Close to the roof of the vast cavern flickered a large, dull orange globe. Unlike the blue-white light-balls this hovered above them like an expended sun. A red giant. It provided enough light to see but covered all in a red-orange glow. Almost as if the area was still on fire.
‘The council put that light here,’ said Sylvian. ‘A tribute more than a light source. It is so that any who come here do not forget the fire. Many lives were lost. This fire-light is a constant reminder of them.’
&
nbsp; Emily pointed. ‘And over there?’ She asked. ‘All of those flowers? Is that also some sort of memorial?’
Sylvian shook his head. ‘I’ve only come here once before, many years ago and from another direction. I must admit that I have never seen those before. I doubt that it’s anything official or I would have heard about it.’
Emily walked towards the plants. There were rows and rows of them and they stretched over hundreds of square yards. In the center of the field of plants was a small single room cottage that seemed in better repair than all of the other buildings. Particularly the front door that, although dirty and blackened by fire, was upright and sturdy in its frame.
She bent down and smelled a few of the different plants. They were not in the best of condition. The lack of natural light had led to etoliation and they were unhealthy and straggly. But it was obvious that someone, or something, was taking some care of them. There were few weeds and the soil was damp.
Emily started to laugh.
‘What?’ Asked Troy.
‘No cats,’ she answered. ‘Look around you. Not one.’
‘True,’ admitted the Wolf. ‘I wonder why?’
Em pointed at the plants. ‘Rosemary, Lavender, Citronella, Rue and Geraniums.’
‘So?’
‘Cats hate them. The smell of those particular plants is offensive to them. It’s like the reverse of catnip. Whoever planted all of these here did it for one reason and one reason only.’
‘To get rid of the cats,’ said Sylvian. ‘Brilliant.’
‘And I would venture to say,’ continued Emily. ‘That if we take a closer look at that cottage with the suspiciously intact door that we might have found the entrance to the stairs that take us down to the next level.’
‘Let’s do it,’ said Tag.
They threaded their way through the maze of herbs and flowers to the front door of the cottage. Tag tried the handle.
‘Locked,’ he said.
‘I’ll look for another way in,’ said Troy as he jogged around the cottage. ‘None,’ he continued. ‘All windows secured with shutters and no back door.’
‘Curiouser and curiouser,’ said Emily. ‘What say we break the door down?’ She asked Sylvian.
The Bloodborn shrugged in his usual manner. ‘Might as well. Be my guest.’
Em spun around and hammered her heel into the center of the door using the classic Ushiro Mawashi Geri, spinning heel kick.
The door literally flew off its hinges and into the interior of the cottage.
Tag inspected the doorframe and nodded appreciably. ‘You got mad skills, girl,’ he commented as he stared at the solid frame, the industrial steel hinges and the three inch thick Oak door. ‘This would normally take a battering ram to reduce it. Respect.’
Em laughed. ‘Nice to be able to let off a bit of steam.’
They walked into the cottage, keeping aware. On guard.
A single room. In the center an open trapdoor that looked like it led to a cellar. Sylvian peered down into the gloom.
‘Stairway,’ he said. ‘I’ll go first.’
He proceeded down, followed by Emily and Troy. Tag drew his weapons and took up the rear.
The stairway was a haphazard mix of spirals and sharp turns. And like the first one that they had clambered down when they first arrived at Pareen it continued forever, plunging deep into the earth. As they descended it started to become noticeably hotter. Uncomfortably so. Tag kept up a running commentary regarding how tired he was, how hungry he was and how unbearably hot that he was becoming.
And then flashlight flickered and died. It became pitch black.
‘Great,’ mumbled the big man. ‘Now I can’t see. Probably gonna fall and break my neck.’
‘At least you won’t die,’ said Troy. ‘In fact, maybe you should just chuck yourself down the stairs and hope for the best. Would save a lot of whining and complaining and I’m sure that you’ll recover just fine.’
‘Ha, bloody, ha,’ snapped Tag. ‘Not funny. If I weren’t so hot I might give you a tight slap. Teach you some respect, boy.’
Troy laughed. ‘How? You can’t see in the dark and I can.’
‘True,’ admitted Tag. ‘Tell you what, place yourself in front of me so that I can put my hand on your shoulder. I need some sort of guide.’
‘Sure.’
They was a shuffling of feet as Troy repositioned himself and the group continued on down.
An hour or so later they stopped abruptly causing Tag to walk into Troy.
‘Doorway,’ said Sylvian. ‘I’m going to try the handle. Be ready for anything.’
There was a creak as the door opened and light spilled into the stairwell causing them all to blink rapidly as their eyes adjusted. Sylvian exited, moving to the side as he did, so as not to expose himself to anyone or anything that might be out there.
The rest followed and spread out.
The cavern ceiling was lower on this level and there were more of the same plants as above. Rosemary, Lavender, Citronella, Rue and Geraniums. These specimens were even more etiolated than the others, lank, stringy and coarse due to the lack of light.
There were a few buildings. Single story, squat edifices, bare of beauty or embellishment. Simple structures with four walls, a couple of windows and a roof. Much like a child’s drawing of a house.
The entire area seemed to be lit by a ghostly glimmer that coated everything, as if the very earth itself was glowing. Brighter than a full moon on a clear day but not as bright as the city above them with its magik light-balls.
Sylvian ran his hand along one of the walls of a house and inspected his glowing fingers.
‘It’s Foxfire,’ he said.
‘’What?’ Asked Troy.
‘Foxfire,’ repeated the Bloodborn. ‘Some call it Fairy Fire. It’s the bioluminescence created by some species of fungi that you find in decaying wood. Never seen so much of it before. Amazing.’
As he finished speaking the sound of a low growl echoed across the cavern.
Tag drew both of his machine pistols and Sylvian whipped out his rapier.
Emily’s fangs and talons extended and she crouched down, ready to spring at anything that showed itself.
And then Troy morphed into Wolfman mode, growing in size enough to tear his shirt and trousers but not enough to destroy them completely. As he did so the growl changed into a whimper. A lupine form of apology.
Two huge gray Wolves slunk out of the shadows and lay down in front of Troy who stood tall, his lips pulled back to reveal his teeth, his muscles standing out through his torn clothing, his eyes burning gold and red.
Then the Wolves changed back to human form and there were two, middle aged, well built naked men kneeling in front of Troy Wolfman.
‘Greetings,’ grunted Troy, his voice deep and rough and slightly mangled by his lupine facial structure.
‘Forgive us, Omega,’ said the one Werewolf. ‘We had no idea.
Troy morphed back into his human form. ‘I am not the Omega,’ he said. ‘But I do come as his representative,’ he showed them William’s seal ring on his right hand.
‘How is it then that you can assume the hybrid form?’ Asked the same Werewolf that had spoken before.
‘That is not important,’ answered Troy. ‘What is important is that we have come for the Corona Potestatum.’
Both of the wereWolves looked puzzled. ‘That is most unusual,’ said the one.
‘Troy held out the signet ring again. ‘That may be but you cannot refuse my request. With this seal it is the same as a request from the Omega himself.’
The wereWolves glanced at each other and then stood up. ‘Forgive us, seal bearer,’ said the one. ‘But this has never happened before. Also,’ he looked pointedly at Emily. ‘The company that you keep.’
‘What about it?’ Asked Troy.
‘Not to put too fine a point on it, seal bearer, but isn’t she exactly what we are keeping the Potestatum from?’
‘W
hat are you called?’ Asked Troy.
‘I am Siegfried,’ answered the Wolf who had done all of the talking.
‘And I am Kit,’ added the other Wolf.
‘Well, Siegfried, Kit, not too put too fine a point on it, but it doesn’t matter what you think. The Omega has spoken. Where is the relic?’
‘We do not have it,’ admitted Siegfried.
Troy raised an eyebrow.
‘A representative from Romeen, the hidden city below Rome, collected it some three weeks ago.’
Emily swore under her breath.
‘I am sorry,’ continued Siegfried. ‘We cannot help you.’
Sylvian took a deep breath. ‘Right then,’ he said. ‘There’s nothing that we can do but proceed onwards to Rome.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking,’ said Siegfried. ‘How did you all get here?’
‘Walked,’ answered Tag.
Siegfried looked pointedly at Emily once again. ‘And the cats’
‘We got mad skills,’ said Tag.
‘I could ask the same thing,’ added Troy. ‘I can see how the plants keep the cats away and then the door keeps them out but how do you get through the upper levels?’
‘We don’t,’ said Kit. ‘We have a separate entrance. No way that we could get past all the cats without them knowing.’
Sylvian smiled. ‘Good. We’ll use the secret entrance to get to the surface.’
The two Wolves looked to Troy for permission. The young Wolf nodded.
‘Fine,’ said Kit. ‘Follow us.’
He took off at a jog.
Emily shook her head. ‘Never thought that I’d ever spend so much time around so many naked men.’
Both Tag and Sylvian laughed. Troy looked slightly concerned.
In less than ten minutes they were at yet another door. This one bound in steel straps and kept closed by a stout iron bar. Kit raised the iron bar and opened the door.
‘It goes up,’ he said unnecessarily. ‘Comes out next to the river, an old private cemetery. The door will open from the inside and will self lock when you close it. Don’t forget to close it.’
Troy nodded. ‘Thank you, brother.’
