Tragic Silence

by E. C. Hibbs

  He raised his eyebrows. “I’m impressed.”

  “Thanks,” I said with a grin, but then it dropped off my face. “Wait...”

  Frank immediately snapped back to the conversation. “What is it?”

  I screwed my eyes shut as the memory flung me back against the pillows, arms pinned either side of my head, and my back throbbing in pain. In the semi-darkness, the Lidérc leered out at me. His faultless lips shaped my own words, and in the present, I heard myself repeat them once again.

  “I would do anything for you. And I’d do the same for Emily.” I paused. “And then... permission enough.”

  I touched my neck fleetingly. Frank’s face had hardened into an expression I’d never seen before.

  “Who’s Emily?” he asked.

  “She’s Lucy’s younger sister, I was friends with her as well,” I explained quickly.

  “Is she still in Budapest?”

  “Yes. Why?”

  Frank stared at me, and then I jumped as he leapt to his feet and slammed his fist into the wall. He shouted out angrily, eyes flashing a terrible red; and when he bared his teeth, I saw his sharp fangs exposed in the lamplight.

  I clutched at the arm of the couch in shock. “What? What is it?”

  “The little bastard!” Frank yelled, punching at the wall again. He was panting now, each breath like a growl, and he prowled around the room like an infuriated lion. He shook his head and looked at me. “I’ve figured it out,” he said, voice tight and fists trembling. “I’ve figured it all out. My god, I never saw this coming; I never would have thought a demon would have come up with something this... this elaborate! I can’t believe it!”

  “What is it?” I asked again. “Frank, calm down, please! Tell me!”

  “Hold on a sec,” he snapped, and stormed into the kitchen, his face like a thundercloud. I heard water running into a glass, and then the sound of him drinking deeply. I clutched my cane tightly, and when I glanced down at my fingers, I noticed that my knuckles had gone white with the pressure. My heart was pounding in my chest. I tried to take deep breaths, to calm the knot of pain that had suddenly gathered in my back.

  When Frank returned, he seemed more like his placid self, but his eyes were still red and his cheeks flushed. I could tell from the way his hair had darkened and stuck to the sides of his face that he’d splashed himself with cold water. He leant against the doorframe and looked straight at me.

  “Frank, what is it?” I asked gently, trying to keep my voice steady.

  He swallowed, and rubbed his forehead with one hand before straightening the waistline of his top. “You said he wants to kill you,” he said. “Well... it all fits. I can see now, I know what he’s doing. You promised Lucy that you’d do anything for her, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “And you said that you’d do the same for Emily, her sister.”

  I nodded slowly, feeling a frown creeping onto my brow. Where was he going with this?

  “Her sister, who is still in Budapest,” Frank finished off. He clasped his hands together. “There it is. The permission. He knew that you’d made that promise, and you’d hold to it. So no matter what happens, if anything ever did happen to Emily, you’d go to her.”

  “Well, of course I would,” I said.

  Frank muttered something indecipherable, and then chopped at the air with his hands. “Bee, don’t you see? That’s why he turned you. It bound you to him, so you’d need his help to come of age. Turners can sense when it’s time for their juveniles; it’s another thing in the mix, to help make sure that they’re on hand to see you through it. Using that, he can get you.

  “Look at it this way: Emily – who you promised Lucy you’d protect if anything happened to her – is still in Budapest, still within his reach. If he puts her in a situation when he senses you’re close to coming of age, then it’ll guarantee that you’d go back there to try and help her. Don’t you see?”

  I sat there, mortified, as the truth dawned on me with his words. Icicles dripped down my spine.

  “Yes...” I whispered. “Yes, I think I do. So... my attempt to help Em wouldn’t only mean I go back to him. It fulfils my pledge, and makes the permission valid.”

  Frank nodded. “That’s it.” He paused, and I stared at him. “That’s... that’s incredible, that he’d craft that up.”

  “Wait, but I never said that I would want it!” I insisted. “I never said: yes, I want to be bitten!”

  “You don’t need to, obviously,” Frank said, adding the last word rather grudgingly. “I never would have thought that you didn’t, but maybe that’s because it’s just common courtesy in my book – and I know a lot of books – to make doubly sure. To not use it as a trick. It’s stupidly roundabout, but I have to admit, what he’s done is valid – for want of a better word. It makes you susceptible to coming of age, to succumbing to it if you don’t have his help.”

  I dropped back into the cushions, and my jaw dropped open as I tried to grasp it. Everything suddenly made sense. The complicated revenge scheme for my attempts to save Lucy all fell into place. I would still die, because I knew he wouldn’t help me survive coming of age – and in the meantime, that it took for me to reach that point, the cat-and-mouse game of psychological torment would be the path towards the inevitable crescendo.

  “You may return to me and die; or you can attempt to keep running and die.”

  “Nem!” I shrieked, and it was Frank’s turn to jump. I looked at him frantically. “I need to get Emily! I need to speak to her and tell her to get away from Budapest! I need to do something, I... I... Ó istenem –” I went to leap up: so frantic that I forgot my cane. Frank shot over and sat me back down.

  “Be careful! You’ll hurt yourself!”

  “To hell with that!” I snapped, my eyes prickling with tears.

  “Hey,” Frank said sharply, forcing me to look at him. “Try and stay calm, okay? Now, do you know how to get in touch with her?”

  I swallowed, clasping my hands together to stop them shaking. “Yes, I do. I have a phone number.”

  “Alright, then.” Frank reached over to the sideboard and snatched the phone out of the dock. I was amazed – and, I had to admit, slightly infuriated – that he was managing to stay so calm. He fetched my notebook full of contacts, and keyed in the Hungarian code from the front page before sitting down and giving me the handset. I punched in the landline of the house that Emily and Lucy shared with their parents. I’d known it by heart when I lived in Budapest and I’d never forgotten it. I bit my lip nervously as the ringing tone began to beep, and blood seeped out of the cut.

  There was a rattle as someone on the other end picked up. “Jó napot?”

  I scowled. It was a man’s voice, but it didn’t have the English lilt that was common of the family. Not unless they’d all lost it over the last few years. I decided to answer in English, to make doubly sure.

  “Mr. Denborough? Is that you?”

  There was a pause. “Uh... You talk Magyar?” the voice asked woodenly.

  I felt my chest tug as I realised that whoever it was definitely wasn’t Emily’s father. I quickly switched to Hungarian. “I’m so sorry, I must have the wrong number, sir. I wonder, would you by any chance know of William and Charlotte Denborough?”

  The moment froze on me as I waited for the reply. Lucy’s face blazed in my mind – followed by Apa’s and Anya’s – and I closed my eyes. I hoped desperately.

  He hadn’t gone after the Denboroughs too?

  “Ah, igen, they were the couple who owned this house before I bought it,” the man said. “That was two months ago.”

  I suddenly remembered that Emily had mentioned they were planning on moving house, although she hadn’t let me know when.

  Two months... surely he hadn’t been keeping her for that long? No... he wouldn’t be able to keep from hurting her...

  “Hello?”

  I did a double take at the sudden intrusion of the other end into my stre
am of thoughts. “Oh, yes. Do you know where they went, by any chance?” I asked.

  “I think that they went to somewhere in Adyliget, or... Örmezö... somewhere around there. I couldn’t say for sure, though. I’m sorry.”

  “Nem, nem, thank you very much, sir,” I replied, shaking my head. “I’m sorry for troubling you.”

  I hung up and dropped the phone into my lap. Frank stared at me. “What was that all about? I thought you said they were English, why were you speaking in Hungarian?”

  I snatched up my tea and drank deeply. It had turned lukewarm, but I didn’t care. I just wanted something to moisten my throat.

  “They’ve moved.”

  “When?” Frank asked.

  “A couple of months ago.”

  He frowned, concentrating. “Do you have her mobile number?”

  I shook my head. “No, I tried to phone her on it once a few months ago and there was no answer, so she must have got a new one. I asked her for the number in an email, but I haven’t heard from her since.”

  Frank held a hand to his forehead and closed his eyes as I put down my tea.

  “I’m going back.”

  He looked up at me. “What?”

  “You heard me. I’m going to go back now. I’m not going to sit around here and –”

  “You’re not going anywhere,” Frank said sternly, putting an arm across me so I couldn’t stand. Then he reached over and snatched my cane for good measure.

  “Give me that back!” I snapped.

  “Bianka, listen.” He fixed his eyes on me. “I know you’re scared for Emily – I don’t blame you. I don’t even know the girl and I’m scared for her. But I can almost certainly guarantee that he does not have her. At least not yet, okay? I admit, this is crazy, how complicated all this is... but at the end of the day, he’s still a demon, and demons will never, ever, keep somebody for that long unless they were going to drink from them. Do you understand?”

  “Are you sure about that, though?” I asked. “Can you, hand on heart, say to me that he won’t have her now?”

  Frank hesitated for a moment, but then nodded. “Igen. Demons... like to save themselves trouble.”

  “But –”

  “Bee,” Frank cut me off. “I know I don’t know him like you do, but I know how things work. He will sense when you’re going to come of age. Only then would he go after her, do you understand? I promise you.”

  He looked deeply at me and I drew my legs up to my chest. I was still trembling, and it finally shook the tears from my eyes. Frank’s arms appeared around me, and I melted into him as he hugged me tight. He rested his chin on the top of my head and rocked me gently, stroking my cheek.

  “And I think there’s one more thing I should tell you, now I’m sure it’s all valid,” he whispered – and there was a hint of a smile in his words.

  I shuddered, staring numbly across the room. “What’s that?”

  He wedged two fingers under my chin and softly moved my face up so I was looking into his eyes. “We can still win this.”

  I cocked an eyebrow. “How do you figure? What’s going to happen is this: I’m going back to Budapest, I’ll get Em away from him, and then I’ll die. You’re staying here and out of his way.”

  At that, Frank took hold of my jaw firmly. “Alright, you listen to me,” he said, but not nastily. “I am certainly not going to stay here and out of his way, Bianka Farkas. And the reason for that is because yes, you are going back to Budapest and getting Emily. But you are not going to die. Because he is not the only full vampire in this mix.”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about? You told me that only a turner can help a juvenile survive coming of age.”

  Frank’s eyes shone with one of his magical smiles. But there was something else hidden in there, that I’d never really seen before. I struggled to make it out, before he could speak. It looked like triumph.

  “What’s that face for?” I asked warily.

  The smile spread onto his lips. He let go of me, and gently grasped my wrist, turning it over and then rolling up my sleeve to expose my underarm. I imagined the black nails and nearly flinched, but gritted my teeth as Frank placed two fingers over the blue vein streaking under my skin.

  “When you come of age,” he explained, “your turner helps you through it by biting you again. Here, on your wrist. You see, what happens is your body needs all of your blood to push your wings through for the first time, so it all shoots to your shoulders. Only a tiny bit remains in your vital organs: just enough to keep you alive for a few minutes. And to make sure it’s just the strength of your blood pushing your wings, every single bit of venom in your system comes to the surface. Biting on the wrist just gives you a quick, extra dose of fresh venom. That helps it all settle safely into your tissues and see them through it all.

  “Did that all make sense or am I just waffling? It made sense when Hanna explained it to me, but I’ve never had to describe it myself.”

  I nodded slowly, imagining the demon’s teeth sinking into me again. I wrinkled my nose in disgust, but then remembered it wasn’t even going to happen. I didn’t know which was worse.

  “Yes... but I still don’t understand how I can survive if he doesn’t bite me.”

  “That’s where I come in,” Frank quipped slyly. “You see, coming of age is when a juvenile’s at their weakest – I told you that. And you always need your turner in order to make it through and become a full vampire. But you don’t need them to make it through, completely.”

  He adjusted his weight slightly on the cushions and released my wrist, instead curling back his lip to expose his own teeth. They were longer than mine. Long enough to be called fangs.

  “Bee, what I’m trying to tell you is that any full vampire can bite you during coming of age, but instead of helping you forward, they can pull you back. They – I – can suck out the old venom that’s come to the surface. And you’ll still survive, but you’ll be human again.”

  I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. I just stared at him, and my mouth dropped open.

  “Van ön súlyos?” I blurted in the end.

  Frank blinked. “What?”

  “Oh... Are you serious?” I repeated. It felt like my eyes were going to pop out of their sockets.

  The clever smile was still there, and he nodded.

  “You can do that?”

  “Yes.”

  “Isn’t that against the rules?”

  “No.” He rubbed my shoulder. “You see? When you come of age, if I get to you first, then you’ll just go back to being a typical human. No more venom, no more sun allergy, no more blood. And I will get to you first.”

  I looked at him for a second; then flung my arms around him so hard that I heard the breath shoot out of his lungs. “You are amazing,” I babbled into his chest. “You’re such a genius!”

  “Don’t worry,” he assured me. “And listen; don’t worry about Emily, either. He won’t have her yet, and he won’t hurt her. It’s you he’s after. Okay?”

  I nodded, completely dumbfounded. A million emotions buzzed around my head and I couldn’t focus on any of them. Mourning my parents, hatred of their murderer, fear for Emily; relief that wherever she was, she was safe for the time being – and lastly, an amazing hope that maybe the end wouldn’t be as bleak as I’d believed. Like my limp, I’d accepted it: the fact I wasn’t going to survive. Now that I was told that it wasn’t set in stone, I didn’t know what to make of it. My life, compressed into each day as the clock ticked, was suddenly a huge road in front of me again: a blank canvas extending what I thought would surely be the limit.

  I saw the perfect face in my mind, and for the first time, I sneered back at it.

  “Does that make you feel any better?” Frank asked later on. I hadn’t spoken for about an hour: I’d drifted into a haze, trying to process everything that was going on. But in that time, something new had drifted across me, and I’d felt the elevation slowly lower. Lucy’s smiling
face coursed through my mind, and I idly touched one of the tiger’s eye studs in my ears, seeing the same gemstone set on the pendant around her neck. Then my hand slid down my neck to my amulet.

  “Yes,” I said carefully. “But, there’s just one more thing I don’t understand.”

  Frank placed a hand over mine and laced our fingers together. “What’s that?”

  I glanced at him. “Do demons usually get... attached... to people that they take?”

  He frowned, and paused. I felt his hold on me go slightly rigid for a split second before relaxing again. “What do you mean by attached?” he asked.

  I swallowed. “I was just thinking... I remember the way he used to look at Lucy. It wasn’t like a... a meal, or anything like that. It was as though he’d...” I searched for the right way to describe it, “... found something. Something that he’d lost. Like some kind of satisfied longing. Do you know what I mean?”

  Frank hesitated, thinking hard. “Yes,” he answered eventually. “But no, they don’t usually react that way. Not that I know of, anyway.”

  I pressed my lips together, closing my eyes. Immediately, I was four years younger, and running without my cane towards the two of them, the knife over my head. She was in his arms, her chestnut eyes full of fear, and his flamed as he held her...

  “That must be why he’s so mad at me,” I mused quietly. “Why he’s so mad that I tried to take her away from him.”

  “Bee?” Frank’s steady voice cut through my thoughts. “Demons can’t fall in love. They lose that; with every year, they become more and more inhuman.”

  “I don’t think he loved her,” I tried to explain. “That wasn’t what I saw. But he thought something of her, something more than just his victim. But I don’t know what, or why.”

  Frank looked away from me and stared into the middle distance. He pursed his lips and gently ran a finger along his eyebrow. I saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. Moments like that were always the worst: the waiting moments, with their horrible stretch in time.

  “I think there might be more to all this,” he said. “I’ve got a feeling that it’s not all about Lucy.”