Tragic Silence

by E. C. Hibbs

  In my silence, I heard the clock ticking, and I looked at Frank. “What happened to Hanna?”

  He pursed his lips. This had never been a hugely voiced subject, but I couldn’t help but remember the strange shine in his eyes when he’d spoken about demons, and when we’d figured out the whole story between me and the Lidérc. But as he softly glanced at his tattoo, I saw a cloud pass across his face. I’d opened up all of my deepest, darkest secrets to him. He felt an obligation to do the same.

  “She died,” he answered eventually.

  I lowered my eyes, gently laying a hand on his knee. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Thanks,” he said. “It was a while ago now. That’s why I got this.” He tapped the black lines of the drawing under his skin. I had a fleeting thought about how it could have almost have been venom that had stayed at the surface, and wound itself into the intricate wings and body.

  “Libelle,” he muttered, and for that single word, his voice took on a perfect German tone. “Dragonfly. That was what her father used to call her.” He shifted his weight before continuing. “I stayed with her and Wilhelm after she turned me. She taught me everything I know. We went over southern Germany, and she told me about the harmless and the demons – the ones she’d seen herself, or Wilhelm had seen. We did so much together, the three of us. I had the time of my life. I couldn’t have asked for a better turner.

  “But... but one night she trespassed onto the territory of a Blautsauger: a German demon. She had no warning before it struck.”

  He broke off, but he didn’t have to say any more to know what had happened. It all suddenly made a subconscious sense. He was in love with me – I knew that as much as I knew gravity held us to the Earth. But in the same instance, hidden deep inside, there was a darker sense of responsibility. Just as I was determined to not let Emily meet the same fate as her sister, he was of the same mindset that he wouldn’t allow himself to lose me as his turner had been lost.

  “Did you love her?” I asked softly.

  He gazed into the middle distance and a small smile fleeted across his lips. “No,” he said, and rubbed the small of my back. “Not like you, no. She was a friend. But I loved her as any juvenile loves their turner.” He paused. “Well, should.”

  I closed my eyes and leant into him. The path ahead was split. I could stay with Frank and let him save me: let him pull out the demon’s venom, and I could lead a life beside him. That calling was so strong that it was just as hard to resist as giving in to the longing for the Lidérc. But on the other side was the road I would take. I would forsake Frank, and give myself up for a girl who – like her sister before her – had no part in anything. That was the way things were destined to be.

  CHAPTER XXVI

  Frank and I pulled on our coats, and I held my knife in my hand. I gazed for a moment at the blade, shining in the light, before taping a handful of birch twigs around the hilt and dropping it into my pocket. I took one last look at the photo of me and Lucy, propped up on my bedside table, and we left.

  We had to go past Michael’s door to get to the stairs, so I tried to keep the tapping of my cane on the wooden floor quiet so that he wouldn’t hear us. But once we were outside, relief seized me, and the crisp winter air stabbed at my lungs.

  “Alright, which way?” Frank asked.

  I glanced around at the street in front of us. It was rush-hour; the cars were moving along much slower than normal, and the heavy snow wasn’t helping. I drew up a map in my head relating to where the cemetery was. Even if that place hadn’t have been branded into me, I probably would have known its location from anywhere in Pest. There wasn’t much space in any of the cities in Hungary to allow for burial grounds, so cremation was the most common way of laying a body to rest. What cemeteries there were, they were obvious.

  I lead Frank down a maze of roads in the general direction that I knew was right. He had mentioned about maybe getting a taxi, but I refused. Because if we were in a taxi, then it would be harder for me to do what I was planning.

  Eventually, we arrived – deliberately on my part – in the shopping district. The place had become even bigger and busier since I’d left: there was a huge crowd of shoppers hustling from building to building. If it was rush hour on the roads, it was nothing compared to here – and a lot of students were coming through. It seemed that the amount of people who had followed the cemetery path as a shortcut was now all using the shopping district instead. It was just what I hoped for.

  “Come on,” I called, going to move into the crowd, but Frank grabbed my hand before I got far. I clenched my jaw, and struggled to stay on my feet as a large woman accidentally knocked into me.

  “Are you alright?” Frank asked.

  “Fine.”

  “Are you sure there isn’t another way there?”

  “No, there isn’t,” I replied quickly. My eyes darted about and I struggled to keep my sense of perception in the hubbub of colours and bodies. Over the loud shouts of so many conversations, my hearing had heightened; I felt like I had the senses of a cat. And all of these oblivious humans were like mice before me, waiting to be pounced on.

  I quickly reigned myself in before Frank could notice, and then saw a group of gangly-looking students moving in our direction. They reminded me a lot of the kind who used to graffiti some of the headstones in the cemetery – and they weren’t stopping for anybody. I saw my chance.

  Frank was so focused on staying on his own feet – and he had put so much trust in me to know where I was going – that he didn’t notice as I deliberately lead him into the path of the teenagers. They slammed through us – laughing as I hopped to regain my balance – but I’d prepared myself for the impact, unlike Frank, who was shoved in the other direction. His hand snapped away from mine, and in the split second that he lost eye contact with me, I shadowed myself.

  I hoped with all my might that I’d done it right; not ‘flashed’, like he’d said I’d done when he’d tried to teach me. But it must have held, because nobody seemed to see me. They moved around me without knowing I was there, just as they might avoid something much more solid than a person.

  The heightened power must have given me an edge.

  I shot a final glance at Frank as he frantically searched for me, and I moved to the edge of the crowd before he could realise what I’d done. Beside me was a small side road which I knew was part of the labyrinth that would eventually lead towards the cemetery. It didn’t look as though many people had walked down it, judging from the amount of prints in the snow. But I knew that Frank would follow as soon as he noticed I’d shadowed, and once he saw my footprints – and the characteristic third print of my cane – there would be no way I’d be able to outrun him.

  So I focused hard, and let myself rise off the ground. I gritted my teeth so firmly that they dug into my gum and I tasted blood. Compared to my first flight in Hyde Park, this was effortless, because I was coming of age – but I didn’t waste a moment. Double-checking that I was still shadowed, I forced myself forward, and soared through the backstreets.

  Flying was such a sweet and wonderful thing. Once you’d had a taste of it, it was something you never wanted to let go of. I personally wouldn’t have been happier if I’d never touched down again, for the air gave me such a freedom and a joy that the ground couldn’t come close to. But that flight was tinted. As I worked the familiar path, the knowledge drove at me, that with every second, Frank was behind me – further away – and that I would never see him again.

  It had been my plan all along. Even before we’d reached Budapest, I’d sworn to myself that although Frank had insisted on coming with me, it would be me and me alone who’d face the demon. For all I knew, his appearing in Frank’s place could have been a subtle warning that I wasn’t going to ignore. No-one else was going to die.

  Eventually, when I was far enough away from the shopping district and close enough to the cemetery, I lowered myself down. The snow crackled as my boots sank into it, and I mad
e sure the coast was clear before lifting the shadow. But I couldn’t hold it back any longer: I cried until I had nothing more. Every single tear in the world was nowhere near enough. I blew my nose on my handkerchief, and took a shuddering breath. It misted in front of me.

  He’s young. And he’s handsome, he’ll grieve for me and then he’ll find someone else to spend the rest of his life with. He’ll be a wonderful husband to the luckiest woman in the world, and the best father ever. He deserves that. He deserves all the love that anyone could ever give.

  It doesn’t matter about you anymore, Bee.

  I wiped my eyes clumsily on my sleeve and continued on foot. I knew the city well, but now I was entering a part of it that was forever in my mind. I turned the final corner – steeling myself with each hard step – and emerged onto my old street. It was a huge shock to see every single one of the houses empty: their windows and doors covered with thick metal sheets. The streetlamps were still powered, but the one at the end was flickering and throwing shadows over the steps. Across the snow – spotless because no-one had any reason to go down there – my eyes found the entrance to my old house.

  Countless invisible ghosts floated in the heavy air as I made my way down the middle of the road. The cemetery gates at the other end – which I always remembered as being open – were now closed and padlocked with a heavy chain. I paused to stare, wondering how I was going to get inside. Climbing over was impossible; even if the gates hadn’t been topped with a sinister row of wrought-iron spikes, I couldn’t have put the weight on my leg to make it.

  I gently ran my tongue across my lips, and then under the bare creepers that had wound around the bars, I noticed a metal sign. It didn’t look as though it had been there for long.

  DANGER, it blared in huge white letters on a red background. UNSTABLE GROUND. STRICTLY NO ACCESS.

  “Unstable ground?” I muttered to myself. “You got that right.”

  Perhaps the whole area was going to become a part of the shopping district. The last time I’d visited the website for the university, it had mentioned about plans for new student accommodation. Maybe that was to make up for the buildings that were going to be lost in these streets near the cemetery.

  I threw an anxious glance over my shoulder. Frank was going to find me soon. There weren’t enough cemeteries around for anybody he might ask directions for to be confused about where he meant, and I’d mentioned to him exactly where the demon would be. I could only hope that the people he spoke to couldn’t speak English – or German, which might actually be more likely.

  I peered through the bars. The vines were so thick and dusted with frost that I couldn’t see much, but I vaguely made out the outlines of the nearest headstones.

  Em’s in there.

  There was a faint tingling on my shoulder-blades, and then mist pooled through the gate. I let out a shriek, leaping back in fright and nearly fell flat on my back as the tendrils enveloped me. Panic tightened around me and I hit out with my arms. It did nothing, but I stopped when a small pulsating golden orb suddenly appeared in the air at my side, shimmering like a candle. I stared, reaching out towards it. My hand passed straight through.

  I’m hallucinating.

  The streetlight flickered again, and I heard the sharp snap of a door closing. I turned – heart in my mouth – to see that the metal boards had all disappeared from the buildings, and the windows of each one lit with warm lamplight. In my old house, I was almost sure I could make out a silhouette with a bob haircut behind the curtains. And in the middle of the mist, moving towards the light: Lucy.

  She was wrapping her black pea coat tightly around herself as she walked, and her long hair waved in the wind. She shivered against the cold, the green phone in her hand. Even from where I was standing, I could see the yellow duck charm hanging from the end, and hear her singing under her breath.

  I looked on with dread, wanting so much to throw my cane aside and run to her. This was something that had plagued my mind for years, but something I’d never wanted to see.

  You’re not seeing things. This is his mind again. This is the last.

  A tear crept into the corner of my eye, and her beautiful face lit up as she came closer to the light. She was fixed on it, like a moth to a flame. She stared straight past me, and I looked deep into her brown eyes: those big eyes that were so full of life and laughter. But it was like a thin veil had been drawn across them. Reflected in their surface, I could only see the light – even though it was hidden behind my back. I wasn’t there.

  A wind – which sounded so much like a drawn-out hiss – whipped past me towards her, disturbing the impenetrable mist.

  “Lucy...”

  I spun around as I heard him, adrenaline shooting in my veins. Lucy’s eyes snapped up as well, darting blindly in the fog and straight through me. I reached out my hand, but she stopped just short of me.

  “Lucy...” I whimpered, and the two syllables shuddered as a sob crept up my throat. “Luce... run! Please!”

  She didn’t hear me, and the tears spilled over, melting tiny holes in the snow between my boots. I numbly remembered that there shouldn’t be snow; the rain washed it all away and blew in the mist from the Danube. That was what everyone else had thought.

  Distantly, in the periphery of my mind, I heard a cry.

  János! It is you! My love!

  The mist became denser. Lucy stretched out a hand – straining to see it in the grey air – and her fingers paused within inches of my face. I could smell her in the breeze: lavender and rose – her favourite. The tiger’s eye pendant around her neck shone in the light, and I suddenly noticed the dark silhouette of the demon standing there: the two of them back to back, his head inclined slightly towards her.

  My heart hammered. Lucy’s eyes flicked to the side as she realised.

  He spun around and clamped a hand across her neck, pulling her backwards into him. There was the sudden emergence of wings as the fog swirled with the movement, and then the two of them disappeared, without so much as a gasp of fright.

  “Nem!” The scream seared my throat and I jumped forward in a desperate attempt to hold onto her, but I fell straight through the liquid mist and to my knees. I looked around frantically, but all I saw were boarded-up houses and a haze of snowflakes.

  Shuddering, I got to my feet, forcing tears away. My eyes prickled red with the effort and their glow reflected on the white blanket beneath me. As well as another, yellow light. The fluttering orb was still hanging in front of the gates – which had somehow silently swung open, the padlock shut around one of the bars, with no drag marks in the snow at all. The wind whispered my name, like a hook slipping into my mouth.

  I swallowed down the rest of my tears before they could spill over, and gently felt the hard hilt of my knife in my pocket, the blade still open. Then I straightened my back and walked through, following the luring light, and heard the heavy gates close behind me.

  CHAPTER XXVII

  The first time I ever saw Lucy; she’d glanced over her shoulder in history class and shot me a smile. I had returned it anxiously, to acknowledge her – and then mere weeks later, she introduced me to the rest of her family. Emily had asked me whether I thought a gerbil or a guinea pig would make a better pet – then had changed her mind before I could even reply, and added a chinchilla to the choices.

  Random other memories flashed past me as I walked through the cemetery. Learning to ride a bike and flying over the handlebars when I hit a tree root. How I got the countless scars on my legs from trips and falls. A bully setting my hair on fire with a Bunsen burner in chemistry. Worrying that watercolour pencil was going to be all over my book after Lucy helped me out of the cupboard.

  What matters about all this are the memories you keep.

  The recollections I had of the cemetery were nothing like what I saw. It obviously hadn’t been visited for quite some time – not long after I’d moved away, they’d sealed it up and declared it off-limits to the public.
It was an aged place – the graves were centuries old, after all – there weren’t probably a lot of people who’d want to be buried there, in whatever room they could find. The grass around the stones was overgrown and choked with weeds and brambles, sticking up through the snow. It was terribly uneven; I struggled not to stub my toes with every step. The path had vanished, and the cold monuments were dark and bleak and lifeless, left abandoned. It was almost as though the whole place had succumbed to its purpose, and was slowly decaying under itself.

  The familiar sights of the stone angel and the gothic mausoleum facade appeared out of the darkness. I swallowed down my fear and moved closer, and noticed the surname engraved on the slab above the metal door – something I’d never thought to look at before.

  TAKÁCS.

  Mirriam.

  A jolt of realisation pierced my chest, but I tore my eyes away to find the huge hole in the ground. I could almost see my younger self in the red beret and blue coat, kneeling there and recoiling back as the soil collapsed under her. I heard the scream as she plummeted down, watched the mausoleum door opening, and her dragging out a tearful weak girl with limp auburn hair, before vanishing into the mist like a dream.

  The orb blinked out.

  “Come on, Bee,” I muttered to myself quietly, but I couldn’t keep my breath from shaking. I approached the edge of the hole, but stayed on my feet, so I could leap away quicker if it gave way again. With a warning sign on the gate, I wasn’t going to take any chances.

  The exposed stone floor beneath the hole was white, as unmarked as the snow on the road had been. Frozen cobwebs hung suspended above the tiny doors in the walls. It was almost exactly as I remembered. And an image from four years past flashed before my eyes – but this time, it was for real, and I couldn’t hold back the shout.

  “Emily!”

  She was motionless, though I was relieved to see she was wearing a thick coat. Her eyes were glazed, ice was embedded in her hair and her clothes were covered in snowflakes. I strained frantically to see if there were any cuts on her arms, but they were covered by her sleeves. Something wrenched at my chest and I called out her name again. She heard me, and her eyes focused. Then she raised her hand.