Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust (22 page)

*****

         The stables' door had
been wide opened upon Andrej's return. He had noticed immediately that Stardancer
was missing. Patiently, he was sitting on the stony watering
trough, waiting for Sadden to come back.
As soon as he heard the stomping of mighty hooves in
the courtyard, he leaped up.

         Lilith had already slid
from the horse's back and retreated to her catacombs.

         Like a wild
Amazon,
Sadden came
riding in.

         Stardancer reared up so
high that Sadden's head nearly touched the stable's ceiling. High-spirited, he
neighed loudly.

         His mistress jumped off
his back and greeted the young man, beaming with happiness, "Oh Andrej! It
is good to see you." She led her beloved stallion to his stall and rubbed
down his sweat-soaked fur with a handful of straw. Engrossed in her task, she
moved it in circles over the heavily breathing animal.

         Andrej just stood there,
speechless.

         "Speak frankly, my
friend," Sadden said. "I can see that there is something on your mind
and I really wish to hear it."

         Undecided about how he
should start, he went to Stardancer, who lowered his head, searching for a
carrot inside Andrej's pockets. The man stroked the stallion between his ears,
until the horse snorted in satisfaction and shook his long mane. Finally he
blurted, "I have never seen you so happy after a time of abstinence. But
today... how is that possible?"

         Sadden hesitated, then
said, "Let me tell you, I received a new power, to which I must not get
accustomed
, and leave it at that."

         Not satisfied, Andrej
answered, "You are talking in riddles. And to be truthful, I don't like
that. But it is not only that." Urgently, he gazed into Sadden's flashing
sapphires. The young man's heart grew heavy, because behind the apparent
happiness, he could see the great precipices of pain. He realized that Sadden
must have visited her sanctuary after her long stay at the tower. "Forgive
me. I was rash and presumptuous."

         Tired, he rubbed his eyes
and sighed. "There is so much going on inside my head. I'm a bit confused
and my
sensitivity
is
suffering because of that." Disgruntled, he put his hands inside the
pockets of his trousers and began to pace restlessly.

         "That is not the
truth. Is it not rather that
somebody
is confusing you?" Sadden
suppressed a grin and hugged Stardancer's neck.

         Andrej showed no sign to
continue talking.

         "You do not have to
explain anything," Sadden said, wishing to ease his obvious anxiety.
"I met Lilith and we settled the matter. Please, do not be worried. We do
not need to talk."

         The young man refused to
believe that, but he didn't say anything more to it. Instead, he mentioned
sadly, "After my conversation with Lilith in the woods, I realized that I
know very little about the world of vampires. Even though until now, I always
thought that there are no secrets between us. Maybe it is my own fault, fore I
never asked you."

         "There are no
secrets between us," Sadden clarified. "You just do not know
everything about me. That is something completely different. It is also much
safer for you, because I do not want to put you in any unnecessary
dangers."

         Uncomprehending, Andrej
looked at the vampire. "I want to know more about vampires. I find myself
asking questions, which I never dared to ask before."

         Embarrassed, Sadden gazed
at the floor and answered, "Please, talk with Lilith about this. She will
be able to give you more information than I ever could. For too long I have
lived apart from my kind."

         After saying goodnight to
Stardancer, they left the stables. Inside the castle, they parted ways, turned
into different directions and retired to their chambers.

         Lost in thought, Sadden
walked through the corridors. In this part of the huge building there were as many
windows as were in the catacombs where Lilith had taken up residence.  

         She closed the door
behind her and freed herself from the dirty sheet she was still wearing. In the
warm glow of the candlelight, her bedroom seemed quite
cozy
.

         Her eyes traveled through
the big room, over the dark curtains, which were closed, to a big bed that had
been set up in the middle of a thick, soft carpet. It bore a canopy of
night-blue cloth. Finally her gaze stopped at the masterfully carved dresser,
made from light brown cedar. Several utensils lay scattered on top of it. She
went to it and sat down on an over-stuffed bench in front of it.

         Her hair, full and shiny
again, fell across her naked, white body. Purposefully, she reached for the
silvery comb and passed it through her long, raven tresses. After a while,
Sadden put the comb aside and opened a small, silvery box. Beside
valuable
clasps,
hair needles and buckles, there was also expensive jewelry. She reached for the
golden seal ring and turned it in her fingers. A rising phoenix had been carved
into the ring. Sadden placed a tender kiss on it and returned it to the box.
Her elevated mood faded quickly. Pain was reflected in her eyes as the usual
loneliness took hold of the vampire.

         Like she had done
countless times before, Sadden decided to bring her thoughts to paper. From a
drawer, she took out a tiny bottle of ink, a quill and several pieces of
parchment. She wrote down the words just as they came to her mind.
I am on
the run, running away from my memories, even though I know that I cannot escape
them. They follow me, like the shadows follow the way of the sun.
I am
alone, alone with my dark thoughts. Sweet dreams are eluding me. Bitter is the
taste of realization, realization that at the end of it all, only pain is left
me.

         Exhaustion, which came
every day with approaching dawn, conquered her, after she had written down her
thoughts. She returned the writing equipment to the drawer and was about to go
to bed. As the vampire rose from the bench, her eyes fell on a black velvet
cloth that covered the mirror on top of the table. Gray dust lay in the folds
of the fabric. Sadden's fingers reached for it to pull it off, but she never
did. "I do not need to see my face to recognize the guilt in my
eyes." She turned away to go to bed and added sadly, "I am what I
am."

         Tired, Sadden slowly
lowered her body to the satin pillows
,
brushed some hair strands off her forehead and
stared at the starless sky of the canopy. Her shiny, raven hair spread all over
the pillows. The slender, alabaster-colored body gleamed white, making Sadden
appear like a beautiful
Venus
. Slowly her lids
closed over her beautiful blue eyes. She became lost in the darkness, which lay
behind them. Disconnected pictures appeared before her mind's eye. Restless,
she squirmed on the sheets. Sadden's body quaked in fear and her hands clawed
at the satin. Again and again, she saw flashes of emerald green eyes, looking
at her full of kindness. In their depths lay so much compa
s
sion and sympathy.

         Unsure, Sadden jerked up.
Her whole body trembling, she whispered, "Should that have been a small
speck of hope? Or was it just an illusion, send from my heart to punish me,
because I tasted immortal blood? No, I cannot deny it. These eyes told me that
I do not need to be afraid. Even without words, I understood these unique
jewels
. They
showed
me forgiveness."

         Tears welled up in her
eyes.
"Only I will never forgive
myself." The vampire lay back down and closed her eyes, wanting to taste
the sweetness of hope once more. "They speak of the salvation I am longing
for," Sadden whispered in disbelief.

         A long-lost emotion took
hold of her
.
Sadden had thought she would
never feel it again, this unconditional and sincere love. "Who are
you?"

         Haunted by heavy
thoughts, Kyrian sat on the stairs, which led to the main building. Alone, he
was brooding in the silence of the evening. All day long, he had not wanted to
see or talk to anybody, because his feelings had been in such an uproar.

         Only two windows were
illuminated on
the second floor. The young man
gazed at them, feeling defiant anger stir in his heart again. "Mama is
getting ready for the hunt and I will be left behind like a little child. If
only she would give me chance! Were she to see me fighting a horde of that
scum, she would surely change her mind. I could show her that I'm just as good
a fighter as she is. I don't fear anyone or anything. For me there is no
difference between one or a group of those foul creatures. They are all the
same."

         Morosely, he lowered his
head and stared at the ground.

         At a fast pace, two
horses suddenly came up the chestnut avenue, pulling a carriage. Fallen leaves
were whirled wildly around beneath the stomping hooves of the animals. The
carriage stopped on crunching pebbles, right in front of the young man. The old
coachman sat indifferently on the carriage's buck, not moving from his
position.

         Suspicious, Kyrian rose
from the stairs, but the expression of his face changed instantly as he realized
who was sitting inside the carriage. "Christine," he called out
happily and opened the tiny door.

         The young woman flew out
of the vehicle and hugged him fiercely.

         Immediately Kyrian
blushed brightly and bashfully brought some distance between their bodies. He
kept his hands on her shoulders, his adoring gaze never leaving her face.
"Until now I had no idea why I was so sad. Now I know, since I'm holding
you in my arms. Christine, you kept me waiting for so long today. I have missed
you so much," Kyrian said elated, his heart jumping with joy.

         Sighing, Chalice looked
up at him. "Oh Kyrian, you are making this so hard."

         The young man shook his
head. "To me it seems very easy. You appear and all heavy thoughts flee.
But it is not a good idea to stand here."

         Chalice noticed the
glances, which Kyrian sneaked nervously to the brightly illuminated windows. He
pulled her around the carriage, out of sight from the house.

         "I don't have much
time," she breathed, looking to the west, where the sun had almost completely
disappeared.

         "I do not wish to
say good-bye," Kyrian answered, disgruntled. "We have been meeting
every day since the picnic, although secretly. You can't just leave me like
that again."

         Chalice was about to
respond, but a second carriage, with only one horse, came up the avenue and
stopped behind Chalice's vehicle. On the carriage sat a man in police uniform,
who seemed to be very tired. He tried in vain to keep his eyes open. Another
man dashed out of the wagon, not seeing Kyrian or Chalice. He hurried up the
stairs where Monique welcomed him.

         Chalice tensed up as her
eyes followed the man and asked, "Who was that?"

         Kyrian's gaze had
followed the man as well. Surly, he answered, "That was the almighty
police chief of Paris, Monsieur Michel Dutroit."

         Chalice's eyes widened in
astonishment and she repeated haltingly, "Michel Dutroit... the police
chief... one of the most influential men of Paris." Despite her surprise,
she noticed Kyrian's disapproval and ran gentle hands over his shirt. "You
do not seem to like him much, do you?" she asked matter-of-factly.

         Kyrian hesitated briefly
before he answered, "He is.
.
. he is kind
of nice, but..."

         "But?" Chalice
urged with a disarming smile.

         The young man felt his
face glowing bright red again. "It is because of my Mother. At the moment,
we have some disagreements and argue a lot... and she likes to spend time with
him... but actually..." Nervously, Kyrian continued, "It is only...
I've said too much already. I really don't want to talk about it," he
added shyly, after seeing the questioning gaze of his Christine.

         Chalice reacted right
away. Horrified, she asked, "Disagreements? I hope not about me? I don't
want to be the reason that you argue with your mother." She looked at him
with sad eyes.

         "No, Christine,
please don't think that," he replied and lovingly stroked her hair.
"Who wouldn't take a shine to you? You are so enchanting and I really like
you a lot." This admission nearly made Kyrian's heart burst with
happiness.

         "Is that true?"
Chalice whispered, lowering her head bashfully, but only to hide the victorious
grin from him.

         "Of course,"
the young man blurted. "You mean everything to me, Christine."

            'Then get it over with
and kiss me already,'
Chalice thought nerve-wracked,
'I need to get back to
my Master.'

         Timidly, Kyrian lifted
her chin with one hand and gazed deeply into the eyes of his Christine, but he
didn't dare to continue.

         So, Chalice took the
initiative. She stretched a bit upward and wrapped a hand around his neck,
while the other rested on his chest, and pulled his face towards her.

         Without resistance,
Kyrian let it happen, because part of him longed to kiss those sweet lips as
they drew closer to him. Impetuously, he pressed his mouth against Chalice's,
who was quite amused by his inexperience. "Have you never kissed a girl
before?"

         Embarrassed, Kyrian shook
his head, unable to answer.

         Chalice smirked. "It
seems your mother is protecting you very well."

         These words pierced his
heart like an arrow, and he realized,
'I'm being mothered.'

         Chalice noticed his
stunned expression and relented, "I'm sorry. Please, don't think that I
was making fun of you. On the contrary, I think it's wonderful, but you are old
enough that I can show you what a real kiss tastes like."

         He brushed aside the
warning voice, which wondered how Christine could have obtained such experience
at her young age. Kyrian felt his heart beating faster and louder as any other
sound close by.

         Chalice drew nearer, her
eyes closed. First, she gently brought her soft, warm lips to his mouth. Then
her tongue coaxed it open to slip inside the warmth.

         Kyrian felt so wonderful,
he lost thought of everything around him.

         Chalice also couldn't
fight the impression that she felt more for this young man. A new emotion took
form. Almost panicking, she tried to suppress it, breaking the kiss,
breathlessly.

         Taken aback, Kyrian
looked at her. "Did I do something wrong?" he asked bashfully.

         "No," she
smiled, easing his anxiety. "I nearly forgot what I wanted to tell you. We
won't be able to see each other for some time," she said, panting for
breath.

         "Why not?"
Kyrian blinked, thunderstruck.

         "Please."
Chalice placed the tip of her index finger against his lips. "I will send
you a message as soon as we can meet again."

         Kyrian couldn't get out
another question, because she quickly entered the carriage.

         The coachman urged the
horses with the whip, making them move as fast as possible.

         After the carriage had
already faded into the darkness, Kyrian still stood there, looking after it and
waving. "Your lovely kiss tasted like golden honey. I wish this moment
could have lasted forever." Dreamy-eyed, his fingertips grazed his lips.
"Oh, sweet Christine..."

*****

         Helena stepped back from
the window and went to her mirror. She gathered her long, blonde locks and
bound them to a loose braid.

         Skylar sat on her
mother's bed, gazing at the glowing red of a sinking sun. "So? Who came to
visit us?" she asked curiously, when Helena didn't say anything.

         "Michel
Dutroit," her mother answered curtly, her thoughts on Kyrian.

         "Ohhh,"
remarked Skylar, unintentional cheeky.

         Helena threw her a
warning glance and her daughter quickly changed the subject. "It is
getting dark earlier now."

         "I know, my
precious. The vampires can make more use of the nightly hours," Helena
sighed. "Which means, they will be able to terrorize people longer. But
today, some of them will cease to exist. I will make sure of that." A
reassuring smile appeared on her face and the huntress pulled two handy, pointy
stakes from a drawer. They were as long as a common dagger. Nonchalantly, she
let her most powerful weapons rotate in her hands.

         Skylar's admiring gaze
followed her every movement, until her mother placed the stakes on her bed.
"I want to be just like you, Mama," the girl gushed, excited.

         Helena put a black corset
over her simple undershirt, lacing it tightly at the front. After that, she
slipped into her black, calf-high leather boots, pulling them over the pants'
legs.

         Helpfully, Skylar held up
the ankle-long, narrow-cut coat with large slits at its sides for leg freedom,
and Helena slipped inside. In each pocket of the coat went one of the valuable
stakes.

         The huntress walked to a
chest that stood beside her dresser and opened it. She took out a long, thin
dagger and slid it into her right boot. Helena reached for a double-edged
dagger and put that into her belt at her back. Finally, she took a lengthy,
tied up package from the chest and placed it on her bed. Devoutly, she opened
the strings and parted the velvet fabric, revealing a light, nearly dainty
sword.

         Helena's eyes gleamed as
she took it to practice some swings. "The legendary sword of the Leosols.
A trusty and loyal servant to our family."

         Breathless, Skylar's eyes
followed the perfect grace her mother showed while guiding the sword through
the air.

         "It always gives me
a feeling of safety and that I will be able to win every fight," Helena
added thoughtfully, her fingertips carefully tracing the blade. "Maybe
that is a mistake." She cleared her throat as she noticed Skylar, whose
mouth was about to formulate a question. The huntress slid the sword inside the
scabbard she wore on her hips. "I shouldn't keep Monsieur Dutroit waiting
any longer."

         Promptly, Skylar jumped
from the bed and ran to the door in order to hurry downstairs and greet the
police chief.

         "I will go alone,
Skylar. You will go to the library to practice some French before you go to
sleep."

         The girl's mouth gaped
open and she responded indignantly, "French? That is so unfair. I would
prefer to fight some mean vampires!" Skylar thrust and parried as if she
was holding a sword and fighting some imaginary opponents. "That would be
much easier than learning French."

         Laughing, Helena just
shook her head, while her daughter shuffled in direction of the library with
slumped shoulders. Before her meeting with Michel, the huntress took one last
look at herself in the mirror. "Helena, since when do you care about your
appearance?" she admonished herself. "That's not exactly appropriate right
now. There are more important things."

*****

         The candles' flames
flickered in the weak breeze that drifted through the slits of the wooden
shutters. With a scratching noise, the lid of the granite sarcophagus opened.
Two pale hands pressed against it from inside and slowly pushed it aside.
Azrael rose from his stony resting place. His eyes scanned the poorly lit room,
searching for his blonde companion.

         Instead of Chalice, he
only found a piece of yellowish parchment, on which the young woman had
scribbled a message for him. His gaze slid over the words in neat handwriting:

My Master,

When you are reading these lines,
then you awoke to greet the new night.

Don't be concerned about my
absence. I'm carrying out your wishes.

Victory will be ours, I can feel
it. Rely on me, and you will find everything taken care of to your
satisfaction.

Wait for me to return.