Darkness Falling

by David Niall Wilson

  His thoughts drifted momentarily to the mountain. Rosa had spoken of the place often, usually with a wistful, far-away look in her eyes, but she had never taken them farther than the Inn. He knew she had been born here, a child of centuries whose civilizations had long crumbled into dust. He'd also caught snatches of conversation over the years, small hints that there was something here still, something that drew her.

  When they'd come to the village in the past, those visits in which he'd come to appreciate the abject terror she inspired in the villagers themselves, there had been long sets of days when she'd gone and not returned. He'd spent three days once, huddled in his corner in fear, certain that Alex's growing paranoia over being left to fend for himself would prompt the violence that would end Copper's existence.

  Rosa had always returned. Usually she was in better spirits after such a sabbatical, prone to laughter and ready for several nights of drunken abandon and music. It was strange the way the wine's effects worked on them. They mixed it, always, with blood.

  Once, on a particularly memorable occasion for Copper himself, Rosa had insisted that he himself become extremely drunk, pouring cup after cup of sweet red wine down his throat. When he had been so far gone that he could barely stand, and so petrified with fear that he was sure his life had reached its final hour, she'd allowed him to feed her – to slip another notch into his transformation.

  The alcohol-tainted blood had sent her reeling, laughing at them all and dancing along the walls of their darkened chamber like a young girl. He'd always wondered what there was on this mountain to make her feel so full of vigor. Now, it seemed, he was never to know. It was a small price, in any case, for his new life, and for Alicia.

  The day was approaching all too rapidly, and he felt a faint burning sensation on his shoulders. Cursing, he ran the last few hundred yards, opened the door and slipped beyond the reach of the sun's rays. It had been close, too close, and he realized that he was going to have to train his mind to new boundaries. He was freer than he'd ever been, but the freedom came at the price of caution. There were limits, and there were rules, and there was no room at all for mistakes. In that moment he was thankful for his slow transformation. He knew those rules, had watched over the others for years. It gave him an advantage.

  He walked over to where Rosa sat beside Klaus, and handed her the rabbit. His hunger was under control now, and his nerves were settling. Turning, he headed for the far corner of the room, where Alicia waited, eyes glowing dimly and a smile on her face. He sat beside her, giving Alex a wide berth where he sat brooding in his own corner.

  He felt no real fatigue, which he supposed was something he'd need to get used to. It was more of a lethargy that stole over him, a deep awareness that something was changing. He knew it was the sun, rising up beyond their walls.

  He could move about fine, as long as they were well shielded, and he knew from past experience that he would be able to go outside, in the car, or properly protected, though the pain would be great. It just wasn't wise, or necessary, to do so. What held them underground was an instinctive desire for hibernation. He curled back against Alicia, who wrapped her arms protectively about him. Together, they watched.

  Rosa seemed oblivious to the esoteric weight of the sun. She was ministering to her young charge like some sort of dark nurse, the flaming halo of her hair swishing back and forth as she walked up and down beside him.

  For his own part, Klaus was beginning to pull himself together, having had a healthy portion of the rabbit's blood poured down his throat. He had yet to sit up, but he fought the weakness of the transformation and the presence of the sun at the same time. His arms flexed and his eyes roved about the room, taking in his surroundings. Considering his situation, he was astonishingly calm.

  "We'll have you up soon, love," Rosa said, speaking softly for his ears only. It was an empty gesture. All of their hearing was so acute they could have heard conversations in the Inn above, had they concentrated. "We'll be leaving here tonight, going back to the mountain. I'm sure you know that your friends will be tearing this place apart in search of you. We want to be long gone before then."

  "Why?" he croaked, forcing the air through his parched throat. "I'll talk to them…make them understand."

  Rosa's laugh was bitter then, chilling and final. "I don't think that will be possible, Klaus. Even if you could convince your friends to let you go with me into the mountains, after seeing you like this, the villagers would never stand for it.

  "They know we're here, but we are out of sight, and for the most part we leave them in peace. The old ones know me, and the young ones still listen. We will go to the mountain, you and I, and the others will go their own ways."

  Klaus shook his head back and forth slowly. "And what will we find on the mountain?" he asked. "Will you give me my past, Rosa, or will there be only more questions?

  His voice was stronger, and with a great effort, he slipped his legs to one side and rose almost to a sitting position, propping himself on his arm. He kept shifting his eyes about the room, concentrating on first one object, then another, and Copper knew that he was experiencing his heightened senses for the first time.

  Rosa stepped up behind him and placed a hand on each of his shoulders, massaged them gently. The, slowly, she lifted him upright.

  "You will get the answers you seek, love," she said, "perhaps more answers than you truly want."

  Copper almost started at the sight of her eyes, visible over Klaus shoulder. There was a depth of malevolence evident in them that he'd seldom seen. Her hands, which only moments before had been comforting the young man, seemed more like claws, with talons poised to rip the skin from his throat.

  Copper turned to Alicia, caught her inscrutable gaze for a short moment, and then shrugged and lay back on the couch. His mind raced into future possibilities and vagrant thoughts as he let the darkness pull him down. Though his body lay dormant, his mind was free to roam, and there was a lot to think about. It was important that nothing be taken for granted in the coming days.

  Alicia was as used to having his half-human services in moving about the countryside as he himself was. They would have to be certain of cover at daybreak until they could reach one of the many "safe-houses" Rosa had sprinkled across the continent. It would take all of his wits and then some to accomplish it.

  Across the room, her viper eyes glowing in the darkness behind him, out of his line of sight, Rosa pulled Klaus down onto the couch, slid up beside him and wrapped her arms about him tightly. The room was silent then, void of light and motion. Even Alex, who did not deign to lower himself fully to one of the couches, was still. His eyes smoldered, and he was lost in the depths of his thoughts and of his growing rage, but he did not move. He needed his strength as well for what was to come. He didn't have to spend his night in thought, though; his own plans were already complete. Sitting alone in the pitch dark of the cellar, he almost seemed to smile.

  ~*~

  Father Adolph stood in the back entrance to the chapel and looked out across the small graveyard to the mountainside beyond. The rising sun sent trailers of strangely shaped shadow to twine among the trees and behind the gravestones. Something bad was happening, something dark, but he couldn't put a name to it, and sleep had evaded him.

  He'd heard the wolves again the night before, though no new bodies seemed likely to turn up. The rest of the village, with the exception of the cottages where the young musicians were staying, might as well have been tombs as the homes of living, breathing people. There was no movement. There had been no stumbling walks from Inn to home the night before, and nobody had ventured forth yet into the growing light of the morning. It was as if the citizens had, en masse, decided to shut themselves off at sunset. It had been this way since the man had died on the mountain and his wife had come to the chapel with her wild request for an exorcism.

  He wasn't certain what it all meant, nor what there might be that he could do about it, and so he waited. If he wer
e meant to know, he would be shown. That was what he had been taught to believe. It did not make it easier to wait, but it at least gave him a purpose.

  The tea in his cup was tepid, and the breeze seemed to have dropped in temperature, but still he stood and stared up at the mountain. Somehow the craggy peaks above held the answer to all the mysteries, buried in the superstitions and legends. He wondered if he would ever know the answers.

  Then, far up on the mountain, he noticed a shadowed shape. Craning his neck to avoid the intervening trees, he searched the shadows, his hand shielding the encroaching rays of the rising sun. It was a man, moving more swiftly than he would have believed possible, and he was carrying something in his hand. Father Adolph blinked, and the figure was gone.

  Shaking his head, he scanned the side of the mountain again, but the figure did not come back into sight. There had been something odd about the man's movements and his speed was disproportionate to the distance covered.

  Father Adolph returned to his desk in the priory and sat down heavily. He knew it must be the lack of sleep playing tricks with his eyes, but for some reason his mind would not let go of it. The rest of the village was as silent as a morgue, why was this man, whoever he was, wandering around the mountain? Could it have been Sebastian's friend, or was it someone else?

  Long years in the priesthood had taught him many lessons. One was that when your heart and mind instantly sensed that something was wrong, it probably was. Making a mental note to mention the strange sighting to Sebastian, should he come around, he moved slowly back to his small stove and put the water back on to boil. There would be no sleep now, with the duties of the day rapidly approaching. It was shaping up to be a long one.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The band held off a bit longer the next day before going to awaken Klaus. After the way he'd looked the last time, they weren't sure if they should wake him at all, but there was work to be done. The new song needed polishing, and Peyton had actually sat down the night before and applied pen to paper himself, coming up with what seemed to them all to be a passable set of lyrics for a third song.

  "For Claudia," he explained, almost sheepishly. "I promised I'd write something for her."

  "Starting to sound serious," Damon commented. "The last time a girl asked you to write a song for her, you used one we'd had laying around for months."

  "I changed the hair color on that," Peyton said, feigning a hurt expression. "It was written for a blonde and… uh… Jane was a red head."

  "But this one's all original, I see," Sebastian said, scanning the lines quickly. "I think Damon may be right. You sure this isn't developing into something more than a quick fling?"

  Peyton grabbed back his lyrics and stalked off, but not before they saw the grin cross his face. It seemed that this mountain girl, who was playing harder to get than any girl he'd met in their long association, was pushing the right buttons on their large friend.

  Damon banged on Klaus' door just after one o'clock in the afternoon. There was no answer. He knocked again, louder, and Peyton joined in, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

  "Come on out, Klaus! It's time to play!"

  There was still no answer. They exchanged glances, and then Sebastian tried knocking one last time. When the silence inside continued, he tried the door. It was unlocked, and he twisted the knob, hoping Klaus wouldn't be too upset if they broke in on him.

  The door swung open and Sebastian stuck his head inside. "Klaus?" he called. There was no response. He stepped inside, and saw that the bed was empty. The entire cottage, as a matter of fact, was empty. No Klaus.

  Peyton, Damon, and finally Melissa, came in behind him, and they all looked at one another in consternation. If not here, where? The Inn? They hadn't seen him a few moments before, and Sebastian doubted he could have slipped past the entire group on the narrow streets of the village.

  "Where the hell could he be?" Peyton asked, scratching his head. "You don't suppose he's still up on that damned mountain, do you?"

  Sebastian shrugged. It was worth a try. He obviously wasn't in the cottage, and there was very little they could do without him in the way of practice. They'd tried in the past to do some arranging while Klaus was out. Each and every time, as if to re-assert his control of the band, he had changed everything they did, claiming that it didn't fit the "voice" he was looking for.

  "I think it's about time we went up that trail, in any case," Sebastian said. "I want to see this "shrine" for myself. Who knows, maybe Klaus and his mystery woman will both be there."

  "More likely he's gone back with her to whatever cubby-hole she hides away in to keep us from bothering him," Damon cut in. "It's awfully funny that we haven't seen this woman at all, or her friends Klaus mentioned, for that matter. It's just not that big of a place, you know? Where could they hide? What do they eat?"

  These were all good questions with no ready answers. Sebastian closed the door behind them and they headed for the line of trees that marked the beginning of the trail up the mountain. It was a nice day, sunny and bright, and the prospect of a short hike was actually fairly appealing.

  They didn't speak much during the trip. They concentrated on looking for signs of their friend, and on the beauty of the surrounding countryside. Damon and Melissa lagged behind the others, hands interlocked, and Peyton stared off into space as though he wished someone – Claudia? – was walking along at his side. Sebastian contented himself with studying the trees and stones of the pathway, trying to imagine a young Klaus running up and down this same trail, fighting imaginary warriors and living the carefree life of youth.

  It didn't take long before they came to a clearing, and they were immediately certain it was the place. They stood in a large circular grove from which several smaller trails branched off. Directly across the clearing a flight of steps had been carved into the stone of the mountain that led up to a small plateau. Sebastian stared at the place, drinking in the atmosphere. He wondered what kind of ceremonies and sacrificial history this place had known. It had a sense of age about it, a feeling of presence.

  "So this is the magic grove," Damon said, walking slowly about the perimeter of the place. "It has kind of a strange feel to it. I wonder who built it?"

  "No telling," Sebastian answered, climbing slowly to the top of the steps. "There were a lot of ancient tribes and cults in these mountains at one time, some more well-known than others. If this place is as old as Klaus claimed, then it could have pre-dated Christianity here by several hundred years. It feels – old."

  "Well, whoever built it," Peyton mused, "Klaus isn't here. That pretty much eliminates all of my thoughts on the subject of where he might be. Any other ideas?"

  Nobody had any. Since there was nothing else they could do, they trudged back down the mountain and split up, resigning themselves to waiting for Klaus to show up in his own good time.

  Peyton headed, predictably, for the Inn, and Damon took Melissa back to their cottage. Left to himself, Sebastian started walking and found myself back at the little chapel. Father Adolph was in his office, tea brewing as usual, staring out the small window that overlooked the cemetery outside and the mountain beyond.

  "Sebastian!" he said, appearing to be genuinely glad of the visit. "I was hoping you'd find time to talk with me. I've seen the strangest thing, and I wanted to share it with you. Sometimes two minds are better for a problem than one, eh?"

  Sebastian sat down across from the old man, accepted a cup of hot tea and smiled back at him. "Then let me hear it," he said. "Klaus has disappeared again, presumably with his mysterious lady love, and we are out of business until he decides to come back. What have you seen?"

  At the mention of Klaus' disappearance, Father Adolph looked slightly troubled, but he shook it off and continued. "I was up most of the night. I don't know exactly why. There are just times when I feel like things are happening, things I should be aware of, and my body will not rest. I sat here most of the night, drinking tea and thinking, and ear
ly this morning, just before the dawn, I was at the door there, staring out across the graveyard.

  "The sun had not yet fully risen, it was just kissing the edges of the earth, when I happened to glance up at the mountain's side. I saw a movement, and when I looked closer, I saw that it was a man.

  "Normally, this wouldn't seem strange, and I would have thought nothing of it, but this man was different. He was moving very quickly, faster than I would believed possible. Given the happenings here of late, and the fact that the rest of the village was closed up tightly until sunrise, I thought it was very strange that one man would be braver than the rest. I wonder if it could have been your friend?"

  "You say this figure was coming down the mountain?" Sebastian repeated. "If it was Klaus, he wasn't coming down to return to his bed. We looked for him there, even went up to that place they call "the shrine," but we didn't see any sign of him. No sign of anyone else, for that matter. Just an empty clearing and those stone stairs."

  "An interesting place, don't you think?" Father Adolph asked. "I've been there fairly often myself. Somehow it comforts me to see such an ancient work of man, regardless of its original purpose, that has so well withstood the passing of the years."

  "So," Sebastian said, steering the conversation back toward the subject at hand, "that was all you saw of this man on the mountain? You didn't see him coming down the street at the bottom?"

  "No," he said, "I only saw him the one time. As I said, he was moving very quickly, and I was hardly able to convince myself it was anything more than just a trick of the light and shadows on my old eyes. If it hadn't been for the odd sense of unease the sight brought me, I'd probably have forgotten it completely and gone on about my business. My mind keeps going back to that moment, trying to pry loose more details, anything that might help me to recognize who it was, or why it might be important. I'm certain you must think me a bored and very silly old man for letting it bother me like this."