by J. Stone
She narrowed her eyes. “Tell me.”
He nodded. “Alright. Then, listen up.”
***
Rohan returned to the vespari tower in the dead of night. Outside, clouds shrouded the moonlight, and inside, no candles burned. The vespari had all turned in for the night, and so Rohan quietly made his way up the stairs in the dark, intending to go to his private quarters on the fourth floor. Ascending the stairs, he arrived at the third floor and saw that someone had left the elders’ private chamber door open a crack.
This was rather unusual, as the elders kept all manner of powerful and dangerous items within. Only the elders themselves had access inside there unless escorted, and curiosity drew Rohan to inspect what was going on in there at such a late hour.
Growing closer, the vespari found a strange blue light leaking through the cracks of the door, and he instinctively gripped his revolver. Arriving just outside the door, Rohan heard unusual sounds emanating from within. A buzzing noise accompanied with a soft, constant slithering sound.
Despite having no idea what mystery the chamber held, Rohan knew no good would come of it. Pulling out his revolver, he pressed his free hand into the door, pushing it open so he could see inside. The blue light he’d seen creeping under the door filled the room. The light hitting the floor and walls of the chamber seemed to shift into dark and light shades as it swept over the room. This gave the whole chamber a sense of life as though it undulated.
Stepping inside the room, past the door, Rohan found the source of the light as well as the disturbing sounds. There on the closest edge of the round table where the elders conferred, the vespari saw an eerie blue fire, but instead of making a crackling sound, it released the buzzing noise Rohan had heard. Along the edges of this fire set a series of short, wet tentacles, writhing back and forth, making an unsettling chorus of slapping noises.
Looking down into these bizarre blue flames surrounded by tentacles stood a set of hooded figures, which concealed their identities. There was no doubt in his mind that this had something to do with the cultists of the Dawn of the Eternal Night. The taller of the two hunched over, peering into the flames. This figure hovered grey, thin, clawed hands over the fire, as though trying to cast some spell or even using it to construct some foul magic.
The other stood behind the taller of the two, listening to the former speak into the flames. This second man was of a fairly average frame and had no unusual traits, so Rohan had no obvious indicator as to who he was. What’s more, both of their backs were to him, so the vespari saw nothing of their faces. Needing to know more about what these two men sought to do, Rohan crept forward in an attempt to discern their identities.
“The vespari are fools,” the taller hissed into the flames. “They have suspected nothing all this time, and now I have finished my preparations.”
The other robed man said nothing in response, just listening to the taller one speak and stare into the fire. With both looking away, Rohan decided to creep a little closer.
“So long as I have a vespari elder in my pocket, there is nothing that can stop me,” the taller one continued. “You’ve played your role well, elder--”
The man turned around to look at the other figure behind him, but his eyes, still disguised by the shadow cast by his hood, caught Rohan instead.
“You fool!” the taller of the two men shouted at the apparent elder. “You left the door open!”
The taller man then lurched toward Rohan, sharp nails extended forward from his robe’s sleeves, but the vespari moved faster. He fired no less than three shots, each hitting the man square in the chest. He reeled back, catching himself on the table but refusing to fall. Injured, the man then reached his whole arm down into the blue fire. After digging around, he jerked the limb back out and threw a ball of undulating sludge onto the floor between them. Unsure what it was, Rohan froze, watching as this ooze solidified and shifted into something else. It grew from the floor, transforming into a malformed and hideous body. When the sludge stopped growing and shifting, a monstrosity stood before him.
The monstrosity had no head to speak of. Where Rohan would have expected a head and neck instead sat one enormous bloodshot eye, around which a glowing blue energy seeped off. Its naked flesh was a composite of red and purple, and below the eye sat a similarly oversized mouth in its gut. The monstrosity kept its fat lips sealed in a wide smile that stretched from one shoulder, down to its crotch, and then back up to the other shoulder. Each of its arms ended in crablike pincers, while its three legs were nothing more than long, rigid scythes clacking against the stone floor. Finally, protruding from the thing’s back rose dozens of flailing tentacles, slapping in the air and at the ground behind it, wrapping around and over its body, and crawling forward under its legs.
Rohan had three shots left. He used them. All three runed bullets lodged into the monstrosity’s bulging eye, but it didn’t register any pain. White pus leaked from the holes, but the creature stared on at him, unblinking.
The taller of the robed men, however, cackled. “You should run, Rohan!” he taunted. “You cannot kill my creation!”
Gritting his teeth, the vespari took the advice. He turned back toward the door while simultaneously reloading his revolver. It was a routine he performed often, and he’d finished reloading before even making it out of the chamber. As soon as Rohan had moved, the monstrosity had done the same, and it now barreled forward on those clacking scythe-like legs.
Arriving at the door, Rohan turned and fired his reloaded revolver, each shot finding its target, but still the monstrosity charged forward. Leaving the elder’s chamber behind, Rohan fled into the hall of the tower and then toward the stairs down. He reloaded again and fired, as the monstrosity followed him out of the chamber.
At this point, from the ruckus of his gunshots, other vespari in the tower stirred. They came out into the halls, where Rohan continued to fire upon this monstrosity. None of them came to his aid though. They all just stared on at him. He fired at the beast again just as it charged him and clasped its pincer claws around his neck. Then, it vanished.
The monstrosity hadn’t been real. The whole thing was an illusion, and it had led him to fire wildly in the tower. Looking around, he discovered he’d shot one of his fellow vespari. Those that weren’t helping the injured man just watched Rohan, waiting to see what he would do next. Each of the elders made their way to the front of this crowd. All three of them, and there was no telling which of them had been the figure in the robe. Not knowing what else to do, Rohan fled the Black Tea Tower.
***
“It was an illusion?” Wynonna asked.
Rohan nodded.
“So, he made you seem crazy in front of everyone. They all thought you lost your mind.” She paused. “Which elder was it?”
Rohan shook his head. “I don’t know. I never got a good look at his face.”
“Not to be indelicate or anything, but not all of the elders have the same physique.”
Rohan smiled. “You don’t seem the type to hold back by worrying about coming across as indelicate.”
Wynonna shrugged. “Fine. Nicolae’s got a pretty big belly going. I figure he’d stand apart from the other two.”
“You’re right, and the figure I saw was thin, which suggests it couldn’t have been him.”
“I’d put my money on Bowater. That guy is a huge ass.”
“Well, he’s a prick, certainly, but I don’t know if he’s clever enough to hide this for all these years.”
“Mm,” she muttered. “Then that just leaves…”
Rohan nodded. “I know. My master. Ambrose.”
“You really think he’s capable of something like that?”
“I don’t know, but whoever it was sent you. Clearly, whichever of them is responsible is trying to get rid of me. Their illusion made me seem crazy. I shot one of my vespari brothers, but more important than anything else, I fled them and haven’t returned. They think I abandoned my oath.�
��
“So, what are you going to do?”
“I’m not sure there’s much I can do. If I go back to the tower, I’ll be killed on sight.”
Wynonna thought for a moment. “But I won’t be.”
“After what I just told you about the cultist and the corrupt elder, you really want to go back there?”
“I’m a vespari. I swore to destroy monsters, even if it’s a vespari that’s responsible.”
“Your resolve is admirable, but this would be dangerous.”
“I can take care of myself.”
“I hope so,” he replied. “But you have to remember that they’re using you to clean up their mess. First, they have you kill me. Next, they’ll probably have you take out something else that could give them away. Or they’ll just send you on a suicide mission to take you out of the picture. Regardless, you can’t go back unless you kill me.”
“Then, maybe that’s what I should do.”
Rohan stared at her. “What are you talking about? I thought we were past all that.”
She shook her head while smirking. “No, I mean, I could kill you. No problem there. You’re pretty weak.”
“Weak?”
Wynonna ignored his remark and kept going. “But it’s not like I need to bring them your body or anything. Just some proof that you’re dead and out of the picture.”
“I guess I can live with that. Here,” Rohan told her, leaning off the bed and removing his vespari medallion from his belt and handing it to her. “This should suffice.”
“Yeah, I imagine so, but I doubt this is going to do it on its own.”
He took a heavy breath. “You’re right.” He leaned back down, grabbed his gun from the holster, and handed it to her as well. “This should be enough to satisfy them.”
Wynonna took the gun and set it and the medallion on the nightstand beside her. “What do I tell them about your body?”
“Well, I know you’re attracted to me, but I’d definitely leave all the sex out of your story.”
Wynonna grabbed the pillow beside her and tossed it at his face. “I mean about what happened after I supposedly killed you.”
Laughing at his own joke, Rohan took the pillow and dropped it beside him. “Oh, that. Well, how about the sewers? Lots of things go down there and never come back up. Most things, in fact.”
“I guess that could work. My master told me a story about the tunnels down there. Sounded like a pretty nasty place.”
Rohan tilted his head to the side. “And who was your master? You never told me your last name.”
“Lockhart.”
“You mean Corrigan?”
She nodded.
“He was banished, right? Into the desert?”
“Apparently. He never mentioned it when I was with him, but that’s what the elders told me. They said they banished him to the desert for some crime, but they wouldn’t tell me what it was. Do you have any idea what they’re talking about?”
“I’ve barely heard his name before. I just remember hearing that they sent him out there. Why don’t you just go back and ask him?”
“He’s dead.”
“Oh. Sorry to hear that.”
Wynonna looked down at the bed sheets. “I had to kill him.”
“You what?”
“A soul eater had marked him with the Caustic Brand. He was dying. I had--”
“I understand,” he told her, stopping her from having to say anymore. “Though, I’m not sure I could do that in your position.”
Wynonna looked back up at him. “Seems you might have to.”
He pursed his lips. “Only if he was responsible.”
“So, what’s your plan now?”
Rohan shrugged and smirked again. “I thought I might just sit here and really learn to appreciate those runes on your chest.”
Wynonna leaned forward, grabbed the same pillow and chucked it at his face again. This time, after Rohan blocked the pillow, he made sure to leave it well outside her reach.
“Or not,” he said with the same smirk.
“I have to go back and report you dead,” she said.
“Not yet, you don’t. Stay here tonight.”
“Somebody’s optimistic,” she murmured.
Rohan shook his head. “No, I’m not staying, but you can sleep here tonight. The room’s paid for ‘til tomorrow.”
“And you?” she asked.
Rohan shrugged. “Since I’m dead, I figure I oughta make myself scarce for a while. Clearly, I haven’t done a good enough job at that.”
“What if I need you?”
He smiled as he sat up and threw his legs off the bed. “Getting a little clingy now, aren’t we?”
Wynonna rolled her eyes and raised her middle finger for him to see. “No, jerk. What if I need to get a hold of you? If I learn something about the elders. About Ambrose.”
Grabbing his clothes, Rohan stood up and started to get dressed. “Hm. I don’t know.”
Wynonna’s eyes drifted down, distracting her, but not so much that she couldn’t still talk. “Is there somewhere in the city we could meet? Somewhere I could leave a message for you?”
Pulling his pants up, he said, “Well, there’s Lover’s Alley.”
With nothing fun left to ogle, her eyes drifted back up. “Lover’s Alley?” she repeated. “What is that?”
Now Rohan threw on and buttoned up his shirt. “It’s an alley where couples paint messages on the walls, confessing their love.”
Wynonna scoffed. “Do you think we’re a couple now or something? That’s adorable.”
He smirked and shook his head. “I would never impose such a restricting notion on a woman like you. No, no one pays much attention to the messages written there. We could communicate in public - privately - that way.”
“I guess that could work.”
Grabbing his big, tattered trench coat that he’d thrown over the back of a chair, Rohan flung it on over everything else. “Just write it in… let’s say blue paint. Most of them are in red, so it’ll be easier to spot.”
She shrugged. “Okay.”
He walked toward the door. “I’ll try to check it every night, but I can’t make any promises.”
Wynonna stood up and joined him at the door, still completely naked but not really giving it any concern. “I guess it’s goodbye for now then.”
Rohan nodded. “Take care of yourself, Wynonna,” he told her.
“And you. Good luck.”
“I think with what you have in store, you’re the one who’s going to need that.”
“Could be,” she said with a shrug.
Rohan opened the door and turned around, standing part way behind the open door and just looking at her. She expected him to say something, but nothing came.
“What?” she asked.
“Nothing,” he replied with another smirk. “Just don’t know when I’ll get another chance to see you like this. Took the opportunity.”
“Mmhmm,” she muttered with a scowl. Grabbing the door and preparing the slam it shut on him, she added, “Get lost.”
Laughing, he allowed her to close the door on him, and after a moment, she heard the sound of his footsteps down the hall. Wynonna leaned back against the door, having a lot of new information to contend with. She didn’t know how her encounter with the so-called oathbreaker would go, but this wasn’t what she would’ve expected. She’d originally been hesitant about going through with the elders challenges for confirmation, but now she’d found out that one of them wasn’t even who they seemed. And whichever elder had decided to work with the cultists now made the most of her confirmation and sought to use her to clean up their mess.
Wynonna wondered if they would really accept Rohan’s revolver and medallion as proof or not. Assuming they would, what would come next? What challenge would they give her next? Having more doubts and questions than ever, Wynonna pushed herself off that door and returned to the bed. If nothing else, she at least had a bed for the ni
ght.
***
Everything that had happened in Alexandria since she arrived there had made her forget all about Petronila. Everything had served as a welcome distraction to the soul eater and her ability to control Wynonna’s dreams. Drifting off to sleep in that bed, Wynonna didn’t even think about that vile creature’s threats and her ability to reach out from the silver round. Her slumber, however, had once more delivered the vespari into Petronila’s wicked clutches.
This time, the soul eater did not remind her of Corrigan’s death at her hands. This time, she opted to squeeze a different pressure point. Wynonna found herself returning to her family’s home on horseback. She’d traveled to Abilene to buy some supplies for the ranch. The trip was only supposed to last for one night, but after meeting a young man, Wynonna decided to spend an extra evening with him. If she hadn’t, she would’ve been there when the Gentleman came calling. She would’ve been there to protect her family.
That moment of discovery of what her absence had led to was what Petronila now decided to foist upon her, and she lost herself in the dream. Approaching the ranch, Wynonna saw the fences broken and the cattle roaming free. Instantly, she knew something was wrong. Dropping down from the horse, Wynonna approached the gate in the fence and swung it open, passing through cautiously. From there, she walked up to the house and tied the horse to a post outside.
Wynonna stepped up on the porch, the wood creaking under her boot, and she looked through the broken window. She could see no one inside. She wished she had a weapon, but she hadn’t bothered to take one to Abilene. Regardless, she needed to know what had happened to her family, so she continued forward, pushing through the door.
Blood. It was everywhere. Splattered across the floor, the walls, and the furniture. The metal scent flooded her senses. She couldn’t find any of her family though. Moving from room to room, she searched for her mother, her father, any of her three brothers, or even her eldest brother’s new wife. She ignored her fear and moved throughout the small house in search of them. She called out to each of them in turn, but there was no response. She was alone.
