by Max Turner
“Circle around the back of the hotel. We’ll sneak him in. He might know something.”
“He’d better,” Luna said. “Because my sister’s gonna flip.”
A few minutes later, I was carrying the man’s body up the back stairs of the Sheraton. We got to the room undetected. Luna swiped her key and we snuck in to find Charlie crouched behind the armchair with an assault rifle trained on us. Suki and Vincent were fast asleep, their breathing slow and heavy.
Charlie lowered the gun and stood. “What’s going on?”
“We found a spy,” I said.
“And you brought him here?”
I set him on the floor at the foot of the beds. “I figured we could tie him up and ask him some questions.”
“Tie him up with what?” he asked. “We don’t have any rope.”
I’d gotten so used to living at Iron Spike Enterprises, with whatever I wanted at my fingertips, I’d forgotten that we didn’t have anything in the room but a complimentary bar of soap.
Vincent stirred, his face twisting with discomfort. His body was still wrestling with the wolfsbane in his system.
Suki was curled up on top of the comforter. When he shifted, she awoke, saw her sister and sat up. “Did you get any blood?”
“There wasn’t time,” I said. “We’ll have to hope Vincent’s okay without it. Unless we can go out later.”
She swung her feet to the floor and yawned. “He killed enough of those vampires to feed for a week. Maybe he’ll be fine once he sleeps things off.” Then she noticed the body at my feet, and her eyes, puffy with sleep, bugged open. “Who’s that?”
“We don’t know,” Luna said. “But we’re gonna find out.”
Charlie unclipped the canvas strap from his assault rifle, then did the same with the other two. “Put him in the desk chair.”
We used the gun straps to tie the vampire’s wrists to the armrests, then Charlie pulled a bedsheet out of the closet, tore it into strips and used them to bind the man’s ankles. He wasn’t gentle.
“Will they be strong enough?” Suki asked.
“No,” Charlie answered. “But it will slow him down.” He took out his knife and started sharpening it against the gun barrel. I could smell his anger. It might not have been prudent to let him take the lead here.
The vampire stiffened, then started to convulse.
Suki peered over Charlie’s shoulder. “What’s he doing?”
“Healing,” Charlie said. He kept sharpening the knife, the rasp of metal on metal loud in my ears.
Luna had her pistol out and stepped up beside me. “How much longer?”
As if in answer, the vampire’s neck cracked. His eyes opened, then widened slightly as he took in his surroundings. Charlie moved behind him and pressed the knife against his throat. The vampire had to tilt his head backwards to avoid getting cut. His eyes wandered over us, then settled on me. A smile flickered up one side of his face.
“Finally. The famous Zachariah Thomson. The spitting image of your father. Who does that leave us with? The alluring Luna Abbott. Every bit as beautiful as her description. That would make you Suzanne, but you prefer Suki, don’t you? And the charming young man behind me must be Charles Rutherford.”
“How do you know our names?” Charlie asked.
“I know all about you. Just how many child vampires do you think there are in this part of the world?”
“What were you doing outside the hotel?”
His smile widened, exposing his long canines. “Taking a walk.”
Charlie pressed the knife more firmly against his skin.
The vampire’s teeth ground together. “My patience isn’t inexhaustible, young man. I am accustomed to a higher brand of courtesy from my hosts.”
There was a power in his voice that stunned everyone.
I waved for Charlie to put the knife down, but he didn’t move. He was too nervous. We all were.
“Who are you?” I asked.
The man looked at me, then exploded into action. Just as we had hoped, the gun straps held. Surprisingly, the linens did, too. But the chair came apart as if it were made of matchsticks. Before Charlie could move, the vampire grabbed the knife from him. At the same time, he reached back and pulled the gun from Luna’s hand. He wasn’t even looking at her.
I sprang at his undefended back, but the muscles in my legs spasmed and that threw me off balance. An instant later, the barrel of the pistol was pressed against my throat.
“I am Istvan,” he said. “A friend. And you are all very fortunate. Children your age should know better than to venture out at night unescorted.”
CHAPTER 20
SHORT-TERM PLANS
I STVAN HANDED THE pistol back to Luna, then spun the knife in his other hand, caught it by the blade and passed it to Charlie. “This is utter foolishness. Does Ophelia know you’ve run off?”
Charlie scowled. “We didn’t run off. We were chased off.”
The short conversation that followed was partly an apology and partly a description of the night’s drama.
“I assumed you were a spy,” I said, embarrassed.
He was picking up pieces of the chair he had ruined. After a cursory attempt to reassemble it, he realized it was beyond repair. “Your overcautiousness is understandable, however inconvenient.”
Talk then turned to the disaster on the rooftop. The news of Ophelia and Uncle Jake left Istvan visibly distraught. The expression of sadness on his face reminded me of Ophelia. Her eyes had the same quality when she spoke about my father.
“A dolorous stroke. Commander Rutherford was a trusted friend. And Ophelia … I owe her more than I could ever repay. We must hope the New Order recognizes their value as hostages and has kept them alive, though it pains me to say … we must prepare for the worst. That they are gone and can no longer help us.”
I didn’t want to think about that.
“You had best pack your things and come with me. The New Order has eyes everywhere. We must get you out of the city. I was planning to leave by ship. Commander Rutherford was to accompany me. You are under no obligation to follow his course, but coming to Moldavia would be safer than remaining here. Of course, it is for you to decide.” He excused himself so that we could talk it over privately.
Luna closed the door behind him, then waited for his footsteps to fade as he walked down the hall.
“Well?” she asked.
Charlie sheathed his knife with a surly expression on his face, as if extremely disappointed he’d had no opportunity to use it.
“What if this guy’s really the Changeling?” Suki asked. “We have no idea what the real Istvan looks like.”
“I think if this guy were the Changeling, he would have finished us when he escaped from the chair,” I said.
Luna agreed. Charlie said nothing.
“So, what are we going to do?” Suki asked.
“Well, we can’t stay in Montreal. Did you two want to go back home to New Jersey?”
Suki and Luna both said “No” at the same time.
Ophelia still had safe houses in Peterborough, but that option had little appeal, since it was the first place the New Order was likely to begin searching for us. I was still set on a trip to the Warsaw Caves to look for Mr. Entwistle’s corpse, but no one took up my cause. When it came time to vote, everyone else wanted to throw in with Istvan.
“We’ll have time to explore more options once we’re safely out of trouble,” Luna said.
I didn’t think we’d ever be out of trouble, but I kept that to myself.
“So it’s decided?” Charlie said.
No one answered. He opened the door and padded off down the hall. When he returned with Istvan, we gathered up our things.
“What about this one?” Istvan asked, staring down at Vincent, who was still tossing in his sleep.
“He stays with us,” Charlie said.
“Werewolves are dangerous creatures, Charles. Their bite is fatal to most vampires. The
Changeling and his servants will kill him if they find him. He has no rights under our laws.”
“I thought they wanted to kill all of us,” Luna said.
“Given your age, it is likely, but one can never be certain. One often receives better treatment from one’s enemies than from those who should be friends.”
I wondered for a moment if this was a rebuke for tying him up, but he might have been talking about something else. There was an air of uncertainty about him. His eyes flitted nervously over Vincent, as if he were afraid.
“I’d rather not wake him unless we have to,” Charlie said. “He’s had a tough night.”
Istvan nodded. “It would be a deception to say that things will get any easier for you, Charles. You have entered the eye of the hurricane. In every direction, there lies a storm of chaos.”
CHAPTER 21
L’ESPRIT SAUVAGE
WE MADE OUR WAY to the underground parking lot where the car was waiting. Vincent remained groggy, so Charlie piggybacked him down. I shouldered the silver case. Apparently, Charlie and Suki had tried to open it after Luna and I left but couldn’t find a latch or hinge. Short of ripping it apart, there seemed to be no way to get inside.
When we reached the car, Charlie couldn’t hide his disapproval. “You could have built a better set of wheels out of Play-Doh. Tell me it didn’t cost you more than a handful of loonies.”
“We didn’t have a lot of options,” Luna said.
“Why did you need a car at all? The donor clinic’s minutes away. It’s a five-minute run, tops.”
“I wanted to go to Warsaw afterwards,” I said.
Istvan glanced over at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. “You were planning to go Warsaw? The caves near Peterborough?”
“No one else is keen,” I said. “But I still want to go.”
Istvan’s head moved slightly in the affirmative, as if he understood my reasons. “A bold move, but it would not have ended well, I’m afraid. The New Order already has agents there.” His eyes drifted to the eastern horizon. “We should be going now. The sun will be rising within the hour.”
I could tell by his voice and manner that he meant well, but without knowing it, he’d dashed my hopes that we could get my uncle and Mr. Entwistle back into the mix. Until that moment, I didn’t realize how much I’d wanted their guidance, and to be surrounded by a few more familiar faces. Everyone who had helped us in the past was either dead or missing. It left me with a sick feeling of dread.
I helped Luna strap Vincent into the back. She crawled in beside him. With Charlie and Suki in the front, there wasn’t room for anyone else.
“Zachary will come with me,” Istvan said.
Luna wasn’t comfortable with this. Remember what Baoh said. The Changeling can be whoever he wishes to be.
If Istvan was the Changeling, we were already done for. It seemed the best option was to stick with the plan. “Are we going to run to the ship?” I asked.
“Nothing so intensive,” Istvan said. He pulled a cellphone from the pocket of his coat. “I’m calling us a cab.”
THE SHIPYARD WAS deserted when we arrived. Istvan pointed to an enormous cargo vessel. The name L’Esprit Sauvage was written on the hull in large white letters. Its hold was full of truck-sized, rectangular metal boxes stacked on top of one another like giant pieces of multicoloured Lego.
“How do we get aboard?” I asked. “Can you levitate us up there?”
Istvan raised an eyebrow. “Levitate you? I don’t understand. You mean float you through the air?” He wiggled his fingers like a magician.
“Aren’t you a telekinetic?”
“Like a Jedi Knight?”
Suki snickered. I felt my face redden. “I saw you spin Luna around in the street. It was just before I hit you.”
“Oh, that,” he said dryly.
I felt a slight pressure in my head. One leg spasmed. It was exactly what had happened back in the hotel when I’d tried to pounce on him. At the same time, my back muscles fired on one side, twisting me sideways.
He reached out to steady me so I wouldn’t fall over. “Is that what you saw?”
“Yes.”
Luna stepped over from the car. “How did you do that?”
“Your muscles twitch when they receive an electrical signal from your brain. I can encourage you to send that signal if your thoughts aren’t properly shielded. I don’t do it often. Like influencing someone’s behaviour, or how they think and feel, it is an invasion into personal domains. Unless there is an emergency, a person’s thoughts should remain private.”
Luna was incredulous. “You make it sound like you can control a person’s mind!”
“It isn’t a matter of control so much as influence. I can’t radically alter a person’s perspective, nor can I compel them to do something that violates their sense of right and wrong, but if a person is already inclined in a certain direction, I can push them a bit further along. It is a subtle thing.”
This was hardly good news. I could sense a sudden feeling of angst radiating from everyone, especially Charlie. “Can other vampires do this?” he asked.
“Most elders, yes. But it probably seems more fantastic than it is. Undoubtedly you have met people who could sway others with logical argument. This is much the same. The only difference is, the persuasion is non-verbal, and often unrecognized.”
Istvan’s eyes passed over each of us. “I can see this alarms you. There are ways to protect yourself. Once we are aboard ship, I will make this a priority. It is rumoured that the Changeling has a mind-flayer in his employ—a woman who can compel you to act in whatever way pleases her. I doubt it could be so, but the possibility is unsettling.”
He looked over his shoulder at the wharf. Large steel containers similar to the ones sitting on the deck of the ship were stacked in neat rows beside a closed warehouse. Parked on the near side was a small convoy of clamp trucks and forklifts, and a giant-sized loading crane. Fog was rolling in off the water. Under the lights, it made everything shine with a hazy glow.
“I’ll go first,” Istvan said. “Wait for my signal, then follow one at a time.”
He disappeared behind a pyramid of wooden crates. A short time later, we saw his silhouette moving up one of the mooring lines at the back of the ship. He climbed over the railing and disappeared. A minute or so later, a rope ladder uncoiled down the side of the hull. He waved us forward. One after the other, we snuck up the ladder and over the side. I thought we’d have trouble with Vincent, but his connection to Charlie was so strong that, even sick and tired, he would have swum the harbour if we’d asked.
“That was too easy,” Charlie said.
Istvan’s eyes were focused on the top of the hold. The fog gave everything a grainy appearance. “I fear you are correct,” he said.
A man’s silhouette appeared on the highest cargo box. He was large, and he wore a turban on his head. He limped to the edge of the stack, then dropped. The height was over sixty feet, but he landed with barely a sound. With no smoke obscuring his face, I finally got a clear look at the man who had killed Charlie’s father. His burns were gone, and his skin was tanned and weathered, especially around his cheekbones and deep-set eyes. He had a dark moustache and beard, both of which were oiled and spun to fine points. His garments were black silk and fit loosely over his broad frame. Around his waist was a belt of hammered gold. The gem-encrusted scabbard of his scimitar hung from it.
The vampire’s eyes drifted over us. His attention lingered on Charlie. “It has been a long time, Istvan, but I see the lapdog still keeps his master close by.”
He’s looking at the case, Luna thought.
“What do you want, Timur?” Istvan asked.
The vampire folded his arms across his chest. “The children and the case.”
“Impossible.”
“The Changeling makes all things possible, Istvan. He has assured me that you will have a place in the New Order if you take his mark. Decide quickly. We will n
ot be alone much longer.”
“What is he talking about, taking his mark?” Luna asked.
Istvan’s voice was a quiet whisper in our minds. And he causeth all, both small and great, rich and poor, free and bond, to receive a mark in their right hand or in their forehead.
Timur’s brow was hidden by his silk turban, but when I looked closely, I could see a mark on the top of his right hand, similar to the one Pestilence had on his forehead.
Charlie glared at him. His eyes were black. He slipped the assault rifle from his shoulder. “Who is this freak?”
He is War, said Istvan. One of history’s most feared generals, now a Horseman of the Apocalypse.
“Decide, Istvan,” Timur said. “Take the Changeling’s mark or die. You cannot win.”
Istvan stared through the fog. Dark shapes shifted along the edges of cargo boxes, scuttled along their tops and flashed in the spaces between rows. Istvan put a hand on my arm to steady me. Then his eyes drifted to the gun in Charlie’s hand.
“They will kill you if they catch you, so make every shot count.”
CHAPTER 22
THE FOUR HORSEMEN OF THE APOCALYPSE
TIMUR’S SKIN DARKENED and his legs became a column of swirling smoke. He rose into the air.
“Your choice pleases me, Istvan. You have delivered the orphan and the case into our hands. Your death will complete our triumph.”
An aura of malevolence emanated from the fog behind him. Shadows moved like ghosts along the walls and containers. I started pulling at my collar.
Take deep breaths, Luna said, raising her pistol. Focus on the light.
I filled my lungs, closed my eyes and imagined the tunnel of light, first as a distant circle, then as a warm glow all around me. My heart started to settle. I pressed my teeth together and opened my eyes. Suki was on my other side, the Optimus Prime gun pulled tight to her chest. Vincent rubbed at his eyes, then stepped up beside us.
“It’s go time, Vin,” Charlie said. “We could use your alter ego right about now.”
