He leaned forward and kissed her.
She smiled. "I should try to start a fire."
Opal paid no attention to what she'd said and instead wrapped his splinted arms around her and pulled her close.
The door flung open, suddenly slamming against the barn, and then the wind and snow blew inside in one big gust. Within that swirling spiral of snow was Jules. He shambled inside and closed the door behind him, pressing his back against the door.
Cameo leapt to her feet. "Where did you go?"
He rested the top of his head back against the rickety door now, breathing heavily. "Haffef called us."
"Us?" She moved toward him. "I didn't hear him."
Jules looked down at her; his face was bloodied.
"What happened?" she asked, knowing the answer: Haffef had beaten him.
He pulled away from her. "Nice rouge, by the way," he said bitterly as he stumbled into the barn.
Cameo wiped her mouth. "I take it that he was upset that I didn't come when he called."
"Good guess."
Opal folded his arms over his chest as Jules set the provisions down beside him.
"I was at his house, and you should've seen his house.... Oh, right. You probably have."
"No. I've never seen it."
He turned to look at her. "It's a ramshackle farmhouse, and everywhere you look there are zombies—"
"Zombies? Like us?"
"No. More like Chester was.... They're working the farm, but there's nothing to be done, it's the dead of winter. And your sister was there. Her bones were lying out on the dining table." He met her eyes for one moment, and then he looked away, "It was ... I don't know.... I don't even know how to describe it."
"Where?"
"Beyond the town of Ponth. Southwest. There's a large forest, and then there it is, in the middle of nowhere."
"You've been to Ponth and back in three hours?" Opal raised an eyebrow. "That's over fifty miles."
Jules didn't acknowledge him; he simply thought to himself how he had crawled a good portion of it until something in his back made a loud cracking sound, and he regained the feeling in his legs, stood up, and limped for a while. Opal wouldn't understand, and Jules didn't really care if he did. Cameo was the only one who would have any idea of what this felt like, so he looked back over at her.
"Haffef said he wanted you to come."
"And he punished you because I didn't?"
He ignored the question. "He asked for someone named Gwen, too. He wanted Gwen. Do you know who that is?"
She met him with a tired expression. "I'm Gwen."
Opal perked up at this new information, given to Jules, and not to him.
Cameo gathered up some old straw and moved further into the barn, searching for old broken boards or items that could be destroyed to make a fire.
Jules sat down on the hard, frozen ground. The wind was less inside, but it felt colder than it had outside, and he supposed it was worse for Opal, who was the only human there.
The dandy tilted his head to one side, examining the assassin's face. "Really rearranged it, didn't he? Hmm.... Do you think it will heal like that?"
Jules met him with a cold stare.
Opal pursed his lips and listened to the wind howling outside. "Well then, such a pity."
"What is?" he demanded, staring at Opal with an uncompromising expression of bitter hatred on his face. "You sit there with your arms in full splints, with your face a mask of scars that you hide with woman's powder! And you pity me?"
For one moment Opal, currently defended only by his wit, thought Jules was going to hit him. He opened his mouth slightly, uncertain what he was going to say to diffuse the situation. He really didn't want to; Jules was an annoying boy. Luckily for Opal, he didn't have to because Jules didn't stop there.
"Well, don't. As a matter of fact, I pity you. You coxcomb! People laugh at you behind your back!" He leapt to his feet, or tried to. Jules was still suffering from the beating he'd taken at Haffef's hands, and his legs weren't quite working as well as was normal for him. He stumbled a step or two back as he steadied himself. "What Cameo sees in you, I have no idea."
With that, Opal watched him walk off angrily.
Cameo set a load of broken boards down near the dandy. She watched as the door swung open and slammed shut, and a flurry of snow fell to the ground.
Opal turned to look at Cameo questioningly, but she had already made her way outside.
* * * * *
"What are you doing out here?"
Jules stood with his back to the barn, for a moment, staring off into the distance, looking at nothing for there was nothing really to see, just white. There was a blizzard in Yetta, and nothing at all fifty miles south of there in Ponth. He lowered his eyes to the ground as he spoke, "Nothing. Just milling about...."
"Typical zombie."
One end of his mouth curved into a slight smile. "Yes, exactly."
"What was that all about?"
"Nothing."
Cameo pulled her cloak about her, although she wasn't very cold; it was simply a human habit she'd never fully rid herself of. "Perhaps you should've stayed in Ponth."
He met her eyes.
"That's where we're headed."
"Don't give me any information. I can't be trusted."
"We'll be there soon. Do you think Haffef will call you again before we arrive?"
"I don't know what he wants," he said darkly. "I'm nothing to him."
She took a step toward him. "Haffef takes pleasure in my pain. I have no idea what I did to make him hate me so much, but he's spent my entire undeath punishing me." He took a deep breath. "That's wonderful news."
"Well ..." she seemed to be considering something, and then she looked up into his eyes. "Next time, when the Master calls, make sure you tell me, and I'll go with you."
"Why?" He met her gaze with a bitter expression, "Why would you do that?"
For a moment their eyes were locked on one another's. The connection was so intense that Cameo nearly pulled away, but instead she continued speaking, not really experiencing what she was saying. "If I'm there, at least there will be two of us, and perhaps he won't hurt you."
"And you care because …."
"Because you're the other thrall."
Jules' face softened. "Oh."
He looked deeply into her eyes but said nothing.
The wind caught the barn door, which battered open unexpectedly. Without a second thought, Cameo looked away from him, moved toward the door, and closed it. She turned toward him again, but the connection they'd had an instant ago had been severed. "Was there anything else?"
"No, that was it."
"All right then." Cameo slammed the door as she came back into the barn. Opal watched her, intent to find out what had happened on the other side of the door, hoping that Jules had decided to leave them ... for good.
"Welcome back, my dearest."
She grunted a greeting back at him and gathered up a handful of wood and straw that she'd found lying around the barn.
He chewed his lip, scraping off red rouge with his top teeth. "So ... did he leave peacefully?"
Cameo raised an eyebrow. "Who? Jules?"
"Yes, him."
"You know he's not going anywhere, Opal. The Master ordered him to follow me. We're stuck with him."
He frowned, trying to think of some way to get rid of that young man/zombie. If only he had use of his hands.... No one talked to him that way when he was whole. "Did you defend me at least?"
She lit a match and started the kindling on fire. "Yes, there's a duel at dawn. Whoever maims the other first wins."
"I would do as much for you," he said quietly.
Cameo sighed. That was true. "I know you would."
"I didn't even know that your name was Gwen. This was the first I'd ever heard of it. You shared it with him," he nodded toward the wall that Jules was on the other side of, "rather than me."
"Haffef has called
me by my given name while you were present. You must have known."
"Yes, I remember. But you have never told me. As a matter of fact, I know nothing about you."
She built a little triangular roof with old lumber over the kindling. "What does that matter?"
"You know that I'm Francois Mond," he pressed.
"Did you actually used to live in the palace?"
"Yes." His voice was stiff, annoyed by the subject change. "I lived there with my parents when I was a boy. In an apartment, much like Edel's."
"Hmm," she smiled. "Very nice."
A surge of pain rippled up Opal's right arm. "How much longer until we get to Kyrian now?"
Sensing his pain, Cameo was beside him in an instant, tincture in hand, "Take this."
He didn't want to. He wanted to continue with the conversation. He wanted to know who she was. Where she'd come from. Instead, with the drug being offered, he took it. It was bitter, and he asked for the wine to wash it down.
She retrieved the wine and let him drink from the bottle.
"I don't think we're far from Kyrian now. He's close to Ponth."
"How do you know?"
She wiped wine from his chin. "I sent a shade to look for him."
"A shade?"
"Yes. A ghost. I once told you I had thralls, too, Opal. Mine are ghosts. They used to look like shadows, but now, ever since Edel's bite, they look different. Ghostly." She met his gaze.
"I don't remember you telling me."
"It was at the inn in Shandow, the Lakestar. It was the day we first got there...." She looked away, "I told you then—it's not important."
"Apparently I wasn't listening."
Cameo smiled hesitantly, "No, I don't think you were. You were much more interested in other possibilities."
"Forgive me, but when one finds himself beside such an enchanting lady, sharing a room at an inn.... Well, my dear, what can I say? My mind was elsewhere."
"Yes, well. It's probably best that way."
"Wait, what? You're not going to use this as a reason not to tell me about your past, are you?" he asked, fighting the drug that was fast making him groggy.
She turned toward him. "You need rest."
"What? No." He closed his eyes and then realized he wasn't going to last much longer. "Damn ... this tincture...."
"I'll be here when you wake."
He sort of smiled, laughing to himself about how screwed he'd be if she weren’t there in the morning, and then toppled over. His head met her collarbone with a thud.
* * * * *
Kyrian stood in the sanctuary of the Temple of the Sun. It was early morning. The sun was shining down on the stained glass ceiling, causing it to radiate a golden hue.
Sage sat a few pews in front of him, praying. The light bathed her in a warm glow. He wished he could be as devout as she. He wished to be allowed into the priesthood, but he knew that without helping Cameo convert from her evil ways, he'd never be allowed in.
"Oh, hello, Kyrian," she smiled sweetly as she stood. "I didn't realize you were here."
He smiled. "Saying the morning prayer."
"Yes." Her voice was passionate; she was still enraptured by the holy experience of the mediation and prayers."Well, I'm hoping someone else cooked something for breakfast for a change."
Kyrian watched as she began to walk away, but then he remembered that he'd wanted to talk to her. "Wait!"
She turned back seemingly pleased. "Yes?"
"Sage, there's something I have to tell you—confess really."
"What?"
He sighed. "I should've told you earlier, I guess, but, I know the vampire you're looking for."
"What do you mean?"
"His name's Haffef."
"You know his name?"
He waved away her question. "Yes. I've run into him a couple times now. He's a terrible creature; you don't want to face him."
She sat down beside him now, intrigued. "Tell me the whole story."
The lad wasn't really sure he wanted to tell the whole story. Would he come out sounding like a good person? He had been traveling with a zombie and Francois Mond, architect of the Shandow Rebellion, who was otherwise known as Black Opal. How exactly was this going to reflect upon him?
"I'm not sure how to explain."
She smoothed the pleats of her gown absently as if trying to clear her own head. "Just start at the beginning."
Her eyes were a light brown color, bathed in that golden light again. She seemed angelic. How could he deny her the truth? "I've sort of fallen in with a bad lot of people. One evening, while I was working with my grandfather Cyrus, preparing for a vigil, I was lighting candles in the vestibule and there was a knock on the temple door. When I opened the door, there was a man carrying a woman who was wounded, and the man asked for assistance. It turned out to be Black Opal and the woman named Cameo—"
"The assassin?" Her tone was calmer than he'd expected to would be.
"Yes. But there's more to her than that. My grandfather discovered that he didn't need my assistance to heal her wounds at all. As she slept, the wounds mended, miraculously! But my grandfather knew that she was a supernatural creature—a zombie, he suspected. He told me that he wanted me to accompany them, and that Cameo would protect me, and that I was to appeal to her good nature, which he believed that she had. He believed that she was once meant to be called to the priesthood herself, as a healer, but that a bad circumstance had occurred and changed the course of her life. He wanted me to help her turn away from the darkness that was taking over her life, that's what he charged me with. But I couldn't. I never was able to help her." He lowered his eyes, "That's why I can never enter the priesthood."
"To change the heart of a monster is a nearly impossible task, Kyrian. I think you should appeal to the high priests in Lockenwood for another chance."
He nodded and gave her what looked like a fake smile, "Yeah, you're probably right."
"So you traveled with a zombie and Black Opal. I've heard of him. But how do you know the vampire? Was he there too?"
"We ran into him. He's Cameo's Master."
"What?"
"Yes. She is compelled to do his bidding. I tried to wake her ... tried to get her to see that he had no hold over her, but it was like talking to a wall. She just doesn't seem to understand."
The young acolyte stared out at the pulpit.
Kyrian followed the gaze that seemed to last a moment too long. "Sage?"
"Oh," she turned back to him. "Oh, I'm sorry. I was just focused on what you said.... Um, Kyrian, is it possible that Cameo's headed this way?"
His heart dropped. "Yes, it is. I told her I was heading south."
"Because my guide said that she was trying to find you."
He wished that he hadn't told her. He wanted to deny it, but he knew it was the truth. "Forgive me. This wasn't what I planned. It might be safer if I just leave—"
"No," she grabbed his hand as he rose. "Don't go."
"I don't want to put you in any danger ... any of you," he amended.
The young woman smiled. She was so lithe, so delicate, as she stood up as well. "Oh, Kyrian. You have a good heart. You must've had quite an effect on this zombie if she is still seeking you out. Have you considered that?"
"Or the vampire has sent her directly to us! Have you considered that?"
The two of them turned to find an older man striding across the room toward them, with Carrington at his heels.
"Cameo, the One Who Shatters," he swore. "Cameo! Of all people to take up with. Boy, have you taken leave of your senses?"
"This was a private conversation, Lieutenant."
"Yes, yes." He turned away from Sage. "You, young man, are either in on this with Cameo, or you are the most scatterbrained of lads. I'll admit I'm leaning toward the latter after getting a good look at you."
Kyrian took in the older man's appearance, the uniform of Shandow's royal guard ... just like the uniforms of the men who had taken Opa
l in for questioning on the last day he had ever seen the dandy. He had a superior, harsh expression on his face, and long, gray hair that fell to the collar of his crisp red uniform. "Why do you call her the one who shatters?"
"Yes, that's quite a mouthful," Carrington chimed in.
"It's what they used to call her, boy, over twenty years ago, in Furnaceville. That's where I was assigned at the time."
Kyrian's expression widened, "That's where I'm from."
"Is it? Well, she used to go there often when she was younger and with the Association. She would kill for Wick, and then she'd kill for pleasure. If someone was in her way, man or woman or child, she'd kill them, too. And the people started to call her that, The Shatterer, because she shattered people's lives."
Kyrian's smile drooped.
The older man shook his head. "And this is the woman you think deserves to be saved, hmm? You're young. You're foolish. Once a killer, always a killer."
"Maybe I am foolish, but I don't believe that's true."
"Maybe it's not. But if she comes here, I'll arrest her for all of her former crimes, lad. Don't you think I won't."
Carrington turned to the lieutenant, "If she's in league with the vampire, how are you going to do that?"
"Well, Carrington, I assume that you at least will help me. I don't know about some of the others around here. I wouldn't think to ask a lady to put herself in harm's way, I don't know if Caith has the heart for this sort of thing, and this lad ... well, he's probably already led Cameo right into our midst."
"Begging your pardon, sir, but I don't think Kyrian is the sort of person who would willingly lead a force against us. He's a good person. His aura is pure."
Gibson rolled his eyes.
Kyrian sought out Sage's face. "If you wish for me to leave, I'll go. I don't want to put anyone in harm's way."
She looked over at Carrington, shifting the decision to his shoulders.
Carrington ignored Gibson entirely, who was still complaining about this new situation, and ran his hand through his hair, holding on to his neck, uncertain.
"Kyrian's not in on anything with anyone," Caith said as he walked in, polishing an apple. "And I don't feel any malice coming from your undead friend Cameo either." He glanced at the lieutenant, "At least no malice directed at any of us. I think she's actually much more angry with her vampire master."
Cameo and the Vampire (Trilogy of Shadows Book 3) Page 7
