He scoffs, and then says, “Heavens fallen one, I'm not that thirsty. No, only you, I seem to recall, have been desperate enough to land down with an Above World’s mortal underworldling - un-meant for you.”
“Ouch. I can see I've opened up a vein on this one - which I didn't mean to touch, right? I didn't say I thought you killed him. Didn't you hear me? Crucious thinks the Witch killed him. I think you should come with me... get this sorted out. I'm certain you're without fault here, and it's just a misunderstanding,” she says.
Theopolis’ opinion is firm, “If they want me, they can summon me.”
“I'm surprised they haven't,” Jessica says, “I don't know what it has to do with me, something I half-breath to do and I wasn’t near any of the trolls – didn’t you consider that? My Father, he's hanging, until I return.”
“Must be cause for alarm.”
“I'm remaining complacent... or is it denial? Not sure. Anyway, it's all a bother to me and I don't want to go. Was hoping you'd come along... old times’ sake, at least?‘’ Jessica gives him a sort of pleading expression with both hands on his shoulder.
“I can't,” Theopolis says. She groans.
“I can't, Jess. I've got some people here. And a party at my house, tonight. I just, well, that stunts’ in the past for me. At least, until, until I want to get more serious, meet that someone special. Not now.” He looks back into his flat and then back out at Jessica.
“You understand, right?” he asks.
Jessica flies a bit off the handle at the sound of his answer and snaps, “No! If this has anything to do with you - and I know it has nothing to do with me - yet you allow me to be sent, or rather, let me go all alone. I'll -”
Sensing she is about to sound completely mortal about this, Theopolis offers her the suggestion of a suitable threat, “Bust me a new one?”
“Something like that,” Jessica says, “I'll definitely be angry at you, I know that.”
Theopolis tells her, “Well, it doesn't have anything to do with me. I’m clean. I’ve never hurt a troll in my life – who didn’t hurt me first. Not one who could throw, anyway. Well, there was that one... come to think of it. I got him good. But he got me first! Didn't kill him, though. Not even close. Just a friendly game. I seem to remember him laughing about it,” he gives Jessica a devilish grin.
“Then I'll go and plead your innocence... but you owe me!” Jessica complains.
“What I would give you, I don't think you'd want. I mean... you are married and all,” he says.
“What's that? You can't drain a vampire!” she says.“
“My heart. My hand in marriage,” he tells her.
Jessica almost blushes, “Theopolis! You're teasing.”
“Am I? How is that uppity rat, anyway?” Theopolis asks about Drew.
“He’s not a rat, and he’s fine,” Jessica says, then adds, “He’s good. I love him... and at last notice, he still loves me.”
“I told you. You wouldn't want it anyway,” Theopolis says.
Now, this is where you girls might swoon, ‘He’s so sweet’ and he is a handsome vampire, afterall, but that’s the point, he’s a vampire, and he’s just charmed Jessica into going alone - or maybe he hasn‘t, maybe he‘s being honest.
Honest?! I heard you think! I’m trying, here, to tell you everything; but, you obviously still have so much to learn.
Jessica, though, knows about vampire charms, so she asks, “Then why am I having to defend you?”
“It wasn't me!” Theopolis insists. Jessica sighs.
“Thanks for the help,” she says with more than a hint of sarcasm in her tone.
Theopolis gives her a look of flirtation, “Thanks for the visit. Come by again. Leave the rat and move in next time.” He waves, “Have fun! Bye!“ He begins to shut the door.
“Theopolis! Wait!“ He stops the door, and looks at her, “Any advice? For meeting a witch?”
“Never turn your back? O, and wait..“ Theopolis disappears for a moment and then reappears at the door. He hands her a small piece of paper which he has just scribbled some words upon.
“If she pulls out a dagger, or whispers an incantation, you know, to turn you into a frog or anything - say this. You never did do this, that I remember. Not all the way, anyway, by choice or direction; and, I'd memorize it, first, before you go, if I were you. Never know.”
Jessica looks down at the paper, “Thanks,” (no sarcasm this time) she reaches out and hugs Theopolis tight, to say good-bye.
Theopolis makes an expression of happy surprise, “Awe. Thanks. Now go out there and make us vampires proud!“ He throws his arm up and points out yonder. Jessica glares at him.
“I'm going,” she hesitates and then walks down the flat's porch steps. He shuts the door. She sighs and trudges, unwillingly, down the sidewalk. Several yards from Theopolis' front walkway, Crucious Port appears from behind the bushes causing Jessica to jump and make a little yelp sound.
“Crucious!“ She looks around nervously to see if there is anyone available to call for help. She sees a man walking close by, so she relaxes long enough to get to the bottom of Crucious Port’s sudden appearance.
“What are you doing here? Did you follow me, again? I can't have you following me all around, Crucious! I'm going to call Mattressa and ask that Father have you removed if you dare think-” Crucious interrupts.
He whispers as best his trollish lips will allow without slobber, “Shhh! This way!“ He motions for her to follow.
Jessica protests, “I won't! What is this about?”
“No time,” Crucious explains in half-sentences and one word explanations, “The bridge. Your way? Too far to travel. Follow!”
“Isn’t there another way?” Jessica asks, reluctant to willingly follow him.
“To the Underworld,” Crucious points, “in here.”
“I really don't know what my Father sees in you,” Jessica says under her breath.
“In here?“ she asks and looks around, “are you sure?“ Crucious nearly shoves her in through a wrought-iron gate, overgrown by trees and shrubbery. She walks a few steps, looking about behind them and then left to right in front of them, and for what reason, she isn’t quite sure.
Chapter Five
Compass Direction:
Straight Down
“A cemetery? Isn't this a bit ghoulish? Rather pedestrian - too cliché for a vampire, don't you think? I'm not a hobgoblin, you know. I haven't slept in a casket since I was a child. You sure you know the way... ooh! Watch it!” He opens a door in the side of a little stone building with a skeleton key, nods to an indisputably undead-looking undertaker who tips his hat and continues working.
“And, isn't he a bit, obvious? I mean, c'mon, put on a little color once in a while. He looks positively right out of the grave! I swear, the above worlders never look around, do they?” Crucious Port holds the door open. Jessica steps inside.
Dusty, cold, and grey, the cement floors and walls house a simple metal desk, one chair, a brown paper lunch bag on top of the desk, and a writing journal, several pens and a framed photograph sit turned away from Jessica's view where she stands, surveying the room. She shivers and holds her arms in close about her, rubbing her hands against one another for warmth.
“Homey. Now what?” Jessica asks. Crucious walks toward a grey, metal grate in the middle of the floor and opens out the two flaps like a cracker box top.
Crucious points, “In there?“ and nods his head slowly, bent down and waiting for her to do as he tells her.
“But…” she begins.
“Get in!” Crucious mumbles, pointing once more.
“Where will we go?” Jessica demands.
“Down!” he insists.
Jessica remarks, “This can't possibly be better than England,” with a slight whiny tone to her voice.
“Too far. Not enough time,” Crucious explains.
Half in, half out, Jessica peers over the edge of the metal opening and sees a metal
ladder attached to the side of a long and deep, cement enclosure that seems disappear down into total darkness. She looks at Crucious, reaches her cold hands into her pockets, and fidgets. She pulls the compass out of her pocket and looks at it. Instinctively she presses the small tab of gold which pops the lid open. She realizes she has not opened it, until now.
“H-huh! It's Father.” Jessica's Father is in the watch. He opens his eyes, an intense gaze. He is upside down. He speaks slowly.
“Do as Crucious tells you. Go. And now close the compass. Open it when you have doubts about where to go.“ He closes his eyes. Jessica shuts the compass.
She looks, with resolve, again at Crucious, “I do have doubts about where to go,” she says placing the compass back into her pocket. Nevertheless, she steps inside and begins the long descent of the ladder as told. Many times, she complains (usually quietly), about the damp, cold entrance to the Underworld, but as instructed by her Father, she continues, feeling comforted that she has his advice with her - via the help of the Electric Compass.
Jessica steps her feet down, rung after rung, after rung upon rung, too namely to count, too countly to name until at last upon solid ground, once again, Jessica exasperates with a hearty sigh, “Finally!”
And then, with a sudden, upbeat tone to her voice asks, “Ah! now, where are we off to, first?“ She takes one step, her foot sinks into some goo, another step, more slippery goo.
“Is it going to be this slippery the entire way there?” she asks Crucious who is just stepping down to ground. He looks at her. He takes a pen light from his pocket and flicks it around illuminating parts of the ground near their feet. Oozy goo is dripping down the walls of an enormous, cement pipe in which they find themselves standing. Crucious flicks his light past both travellers into the darkness and back, once again.
“Don't know,” he responds, “I got a hunch it just may be. Likely. Yes.”
“Oh! “ Jessica whines, and then she gets an idea.
“Wait,” she tells Crucious, “hold up that light one more time.” She fishes in her pocket and pulls out the piece of paper Theopolis had given to her during her last, firm foothold on Upper World ground.
It reads:
Bat Form: (it'll be faster, you know, long way to that bridge.) Close eyes.
Inhale deeply and recite:
Transcend! (And then, transcend.)
Good luck!
My best.
~ T.
Jessica scans the note reading it in the light of the flash‘s tiny bulb.
She stops, looks at Crucious and says, “I'm going as a bat. I can't stand it in here. It'll be much faster for me. I’ll see you there?“ She does not wait for an answer.
“Here goes.” She closes her eyes and inhales a deep breath. She recites the words and then.... off she flies, as a flutter-winged, vampire bat, a little swervy at first... then off she goes, out through the tunnel. She smiles inside her ancient, immortal soul - one of the perks, the ability to fly.
The wind - created by the speed at which she flies - rushes fast against her face, she squints her eyes and “Oh!”, she squeaks, “sonar!” She tests it out and flies less swervy. She practically giggles which spills out as a sound more like chattering - much like the night back at old Thaddeus Preference’s when her emotions went all a-flutter at the dance (about choosing between Theopolis and Drew) which turned her to bat form (most accidentally!) and she flew out the window of the bathroom during the school dance.
Eventually Jessica sees what most immortal souls won’t - a light at the end of the tunnel.
She flies out of what must have once been a sewer, into the dusty drab of the In Between.
“Uh-oh, how to land?” she worries, too late. She tilts to the right, dipping down her wing on that side. Her speed does not slow. She tries the left, “Uh, uh,” a little too far and then she tumbles and somersaults to a landing.
“Uuh,” Jessica’s wings wrap up and tangle around her.
“Ow!” She untangles her wings and pulls them in against her, tottering off a few steps and exclaiming, “Winker's jinx! I forgot to read ahead. How do I get out of bat form?” Jessica totters back toward the opening of the drain pipe and waits for Crucious Port.
Now is the time to tell you, that while Miss Jessica was off dallying with the pitfalls of reminiscence at that charismatic, young vampire's door, tall and spindly Crucious Port ran off to see his other brother. He found his troll relation, that day, leaning up against the counter, filling in numbers on a Keno card, at the Above World’s Underworld rest stop, the Curmudgeon Cafe.
Crucious calls out, “Brother!”
Crucious' brother replies, “My man! What is up?”
“Just the curl of a dog's lip when he catches the scent of the likes of ewe, ya’ lazy sheep,” Crucious recites (teasing, of course). Crucious’ brother smiles at the welcome sound of a troll brother’s chant and tells him to, “Pull up a chair!”
Crucious responds with a lively, “I think I will,” and then he says, referring to the Keno card, “You'll never win at that. Waste of time!”
“I won one the other day,” his brother tells him and then asks, “What brings you to find me on this glorious song of an afternoon?”
“I'm killing her,” Crucious says.
“Which one? And with your looks, or your love?“ He asks while handing his Keno card over the counter.
“Barista'! See that this one wins, will ‘ya?“ He looks at Crucious, “And so you go -”
“With me bare hands,” Crucious interrupts answering his brother’s most recent question before he can finish what he was about to say. His answer takes Crucious’ brother back for several, long moments.
Confused, the troll brother inquires as to explain just what it is he is carrying on about now, “What?”
“With me bare hands,” Crucious explains, “And the hands of the girl she summoned. I gave the girl the potion. She's to splash a bit of it on her – the Witch’s potion – the very one she cooked up and used, allegedly, on the wound of our brother. And, if she up and kicks that can o' life all the way to the devil's threshold, like I think she will, then we got ourselves an eye.”
Crucious' brother asks, “An eye?”
“Eye for an eye,” Crucious explains.
The barista turns back toward Crucious' brother after checking the card on his fancy machine, shakin' his head, ‘no’, “Not a winner,” he places the card on the bar in front of the two troll brothers, still mourning the loss of the third.
“Sorry,” the barista says, as the machine has revealed the card was not a winner. Now, that put Crucious' brother in a sudden, bad mood. Cause not much will shade that sunny disposition, but the lack, and loss, of money.
And as his fists clench up on that countertop of polished wood, one eyebrow lowers and his teeth show slightly as he turns to Crucious Port and growls, “An eye!”
Crucious Port nearly howls, “An eye!”
Crucious' brother glares at the barista, and recites the chant “An eye.”
A low growl comin' from Crucious incites a raucous cry throughout the cafe from its Underworld mal- and dis- contents, who thought they were saying 'Aye‘, “Aye!!”
Crucious' brother coldly and bluntly determines, “Kill it! I say. Can't believe Crucious, you’re actually working with that girl! Because, he was our brother, after all. Wouldn't have had to treat the wound if that blood-sucker had not hit my good and solid brother with a rock! I was there. And he wasn’t even looking when that immortal sucker of life force hauled off and hit him, dirty style, with a big, old, dirty rock.”
So, Crucious, knowing how his brother can get confused - once he gets emotional about a cause - explains, insisting, “The Witch's eye, brother. Not the eye of that blood-sucker. Not a corpuscle touched, you understand? Meet me in the Underworld.” He slaps a piece of paper he has scribbled on down along the top of the café countertop bar. And stomps out the door, more determined to see that Witch go down than ever be
fore; ever since the day he saw his dearly loved, and most prosperous brother of which he had been proud to call his kin since birth. And although trolls can't usually talk until the age of 6, they remember everything from birth on through. Some say, from the moment of conception. (Although that's going a little too far for this author, since two trolls 'in conception' is not what I like to think about.) Now, that may not seem like it has much to do with this story, but it does help pass the time while we're waiting for that old, slow troll to lunk his lurker out the drain pipe and rescue Jessica who is caught in ‘bat’. Jessica sits on a rock, sharpening her claws with her teeth and sighing - a lot. Here he comes now.
“Ah, the soil of my native land!” Crucious so eloquently - for a troll - exclaims upon his first steps out of the drain pipe. Jessica looks over and hops off the rock she has been sitting. She motions with her wings, something about getting out that little piece of paper that Theopolis had given her, but Crucious isn't all that good at sign language. He just can’t figure out what she is ‘carrying on about’; so, Jessica flies up, nearly in his face and retrieves the little piece of paper, right out of Crucious' soily, coat pocket.
“Tarnation's vinegar! What are ya doin'?!” (Grabbing the paper right out of his pocket.)
Anyway, Jessica sits down, on the ground, in front of the piece of paper to read the part that she should have read before jumping to action - following the directions, step-by-step, as Theopolis has written down to do:
When you're done, say this backwards,
the note says, and she does.
“Dirigez quelque chose.... Transcend,’ and she does, transcend right back into darling Jessica, daughter of a most notorious vampire, Above World.
“Duck!” Crucious yells and Jessica does that thing most people do when a being yells duck, she turns to look in the direction of what might be coming her way.
The Nebulizer Potion and the Electric Compass (Vampire DeAngeliuson Book 3) Page 4
