Eldren: The Book of the Dark (26 page)

The vampire child was still asleep, but was lying in Jim’s arms, its mouth clamped firmly over his finger, jaws locked tight. And although it was asleep, Jim could see its throat moving as it swallowed, as his blood was drained.

He had moved during his reverie, his walking in reality mirroring his pacing back and forth in the longed for nursery, and he was at least five yards from the cot. The torch lay on top of the covers, lighting up the wall beside the cot, and in the shadows he could just see the barest outline of his crossbow.

His whole arm had gone numb, and the old joke about the blood donor being aghast at giving ‘a whole armful’ went through his mind. He couldn’t use his other hand...it was being used to support the child.

He tried to let go, but suddenly found the vampire’s whole weight pulling against his little finger...a pain so hot and excruciating that he was forced to grab hold of the child again.

He squeezed it hard against his chest in a tight grip, causing the small ribs to pop and slide against each other. But still it didn’t wake, and it continued to feed.

Jim started to walk forward, toward the cot where his crossbow lay, but his legs felt heavy and he could manage little more than a shuffle.

The child in his arms was getting heavier, and Jim’s legs were getting weaker, threatening to buckle at any moment. He knelt to the ground, knowing that he had to get rid of it very soon, before his strength left him completely.

He got the child on the ground, finally able to free his hand from under it, and it was only then that he remembered the packets of garlic in his pockets. He was almost frantic as he got the packet out. His head was beginning to sing, feeling light and heady as if he had drank too much too quickly.

He tore at the plastic packet with his teeth, almost choking as some of the powder found its way down his throat. The packet seemed to explode in his face and he had to close his eyes tight against the stinging, so he didn’t see what happened next,

But he could guess...he had seen it before.

The pressure on his finger suddenly lessened and he could draw his hand away from the mouth. But when he tried to back away, to put some distance between himself and the vampire, his legs betrayed him and he fell heavily backwards, his head striking the cold stone floor. There was a ringing in his ears, then only blackness.

~-o0O0o-~

As they stepped through the doorway and into the house Margaret looked over at Tony. He seemed to be holding himself together now, but she wondered how long she would be able to trust in him. She put it to the back of her mind...she had enough to think about without baby-sitting as well.

If things got hairy she’d try and get him out, but until then, she would let him look after himself.

It wasn’t as dark in the house as she had feared. Dim light came into the hall from the main door they had just passed through and from the open door to the kitchen beyond.

“It’s through there,” Tony said, pointing. “There’s a trapdoor in the kitchen that takes you down into the cellars.”

He started to move forward but Margaret held him back.

“Just hold on for a minute. I don’t want to trust that old cycle light unless I really have to. There’s something else I want to try.”

She looked over to her left. Just thinking about the mosaic made her cold, but it was daylight. Surely it couldn’t harm her...not with the sun high in the sky.

“Over here,” she said, and motioned for Tony to follow.

When she got to the corner just before the room she stopped, struck by a sudden thought. What if Brian’s dead body was lying in there on the floor? She didn’t give herself time to think about it...she turned the corner and walked into the mosaic room.

She had to close her eyes. The dome seemed to focus the light, making the room as bright as if it was floodlit. She almost believed that the floor would be smooth, that the mosaic had been part of a nightmare, but as her eyes adjusted she could see that it had been no dream.

In the daylight the mosaic was even more impressive. She could see that it was composed of tiny pieces, each the size of the fingernail on her little finger. Whereas, in the dark, it had seemed to be black and silver, she saw that it was almost iridescent, with golds and greens and yellows amongst the coils. And out there in the middle she could see a blot on the scene, a smear of darker red that could be nothing other than the blood she had seen spilled.

But it no longer looked alive. It looked like what it was...an impressive work of representational art, but a work of art nonetheless.

“Come over here,” she said.

Tony hadn’t come all the way into the room. He stood in the hallway, transfixed by the view in front of him.

“Come on,” she said. “It won’t bite you.” She didn’t quite believe that herself yet, and she had to force herself to step forward, putting her left foot gingerly on the thinnest of the serpent’s coils.

Tony came across the room, and Margaret noticed that he gave the mosaic a wide berth, never coming closer than six feet to it at any point.

“I want to try something,” she said. “Have you still got those papers you found in the bible?”

Tony nodded and took the book from under his belt and showed her the yellowing papers that protruded from the leather cover.

She prized the papers out and unfolded them carefully. Tony pointed out the top page.

“It was that one...the one with the drawings on it.”

She looked closely at the drawings, but couldn’t see any help there. Then she read the verse, mentally trying to transcribe the strange syllables into words she could understand, words that she might be able to pronounce.

“Bill said this was an exorcism...right?” she asked.

Tony nodded again.

“Well let’s try it.”

Tony looked doubtful.

“I know,” Margaret said. “It’s a long shot. But the book has got something to do with this place, and if someone went to enough trouble to leave an exorcism in it, then they must have had some use for it.”

“So what are you going to do?” the boy asked. “I thought you had to be a priest or something? And wouldn’t it have to be done at night? And...”

She stopped him before he enumerated all of her own doubts.

“I know all of that,” she said, “But if it means we don’t have to get down to business with the stakes then I’m all for trying it.”

“But what are you going to do?” He asked again.

In truth she had little idea. With the papers in her hand she strode into the center of the mosaic.

She placed her feet squarely on the head of the serpent but was careful not to stand on the red blot of Brian’s blood. The sunlight seemed to fill the room, but she saw that the source wasn’t directly overhead. In fact she saw that the wall to her left was already in shadow, the leading edges of which were creeping close to the mosaic.

She flattened the top sheaf of paper, smoothing it out with the heel of her palm.

“Here goes nothing,” she said, and smiled as Tony gave her a ‘thumbs up’.

The first words wouldn’t come easy. Her throat was suddenly dry and she had to cough, twice, before she could continue.

“Powers of the Kingdom, be ye under my left foot and in my right hand,”
she began.

At first her voice was soft and cautious, but she seemed to fall into the rhythm of it, as if the verse had found its own tempo and cadence.

“Glory and Eternity, take me by the two shoulders and direct me in the paths of victory.

Mercy and Justice be ye the equilibrium and splendor of my life.”

The light seemed to be dimming and although Margaret could still see the glowing orb of the sun, it was as if there was a veil of smoke between them.

“Intelligence and wisdom crown me.

Spirits of Malcuth lead me betwixt the two pillars upon which rest the edifice of the temple.

Angels of Nestah and Hod strengthen me upon the cubic stone of Jesod.

Oh Gedulael, Oh Geburael, Oh Tiphereth, Binael, be thou my love.

Ruach Hochmael be thou my light. Be that which thou art and thou shalt be.
”

The room got suddenly darker. Darker and colder. Goosebumps ran the length of Margaret’s arms, and she felt an elation build inside her. Something was happening. It was working.

“Oh Jethriel Tschim assist me in the name of Amro, be my strength in the name of Yoriah.

Oh Beni-Elohim, be my brethren in the name of the Redeemer and by the power of Zebaoth.”

Margaret felt a hot tingling throughout her body, the same feeling she got immediately after a heavy work out. She had to concentrate...the papers seemed to be swimming in front of her eyes.

“Elohim do battle for me in the name of Rokar.

Malachim protect me in the name of Jod He Vau He.

Seraphim cleanse me in the name of Elvoih.

Give me the strength to cast down this servant of thine enemy.”

By the time she reached the last words she was almost shouting. The darkness spun and thickened around her and her heart leaped. Thin shadows seemed to rush through the air, whirling around her head in a frenzied dance.

The air thickened like a descending fog, and in the fog the shadows took on more substance. Margaret’s last syllable was still echoing around the room and the fog was getting ever thicker.

For several seconds she thought it would work but the sun burned through the gray, dispersing it as fast as it came and the tingling in her limbs faded.

She felt as if she had just missed something important, as if she had been close to success only to have it dashed away.

“It was working!” Tony shouted. “What happened?”

Margaret shrugged.

“I don’t know. I felt something alright.”

Then another thought struck her.

“Maybe it did work. How are we to know otherwise?”

Tony shook his head.

“It doesn’t feel right.”

She knew what he meant. The house still had the same chill, the same sense of overbearing gloom.

“Maybe it needs to be done at night,” Tony said.

“Yes. And maybe we need to sacrifice a black cockerel while dancing naked around an inverted cross. There’s too many ifs and buts. It looks like we’ll need the stakes after all.”

As they left the room she turned for one last look. The shadow had already crept over half the mosaic.

~-o0O0o-~

Jim Kerr came out of unconsciousness with a start.

At first he thought he was in pitch blackness, but then he saw that his torch was still giving out light, still fanning its beam on the wall above the cot.

The beam was much fainter than before, and he wondered how long he had been out...how close it now was to sunset in the world outside.

He felt drowsy, as if he hadn’t had enough sleep, and his arms and legs were heavy, as if each were weighed down at ankle and wrist.

He used his fingertips to feel the back of his head, wincing as his fingers met and prodded at a bump the size of a goose egg.

His fingers came away dry...it looked like he hadn’t broken the skin, but he would have a roaring headache for a while yet. He pushed himself to his feet, grateful that his legs seemed to be working, and moved towards the flashlight.

His foot hit something heavy that gave way, like a piece of rotten fruit. He suddenly remembered the child, and the garlic powder. He kept his eyes fixed on the flashlight. He’d seen the effects of the garlic powder before...he didn’t think his stomach would cope with seeing the result it had on a child...even one that had become a bloodsucker.

His crossbow was still sitting in place beside the torch. He checked that it was cocked and ready before lifting both it and the torch from the bed.

The torch’s beam was flickering wildly and Jim realized that the batteries were almost gone. He decided that discretion was the better part of valor and made for the door.

He only got two steps when the torch flickered; one last flare that lit up the doorway ahead of him then died, leaving him alone in the darkness.

He didn’t panic...not then. He kept walking forward, trying to visualize the structure of the room as he’d seen it by torchlight earlier. The door couldn’t be more than four paces away.

After three paces he held his hand out in front of him and used the torch as a blind man would use a cane, searching for anything in his path.

The torch scraped noisily against a wall. Jim moved forward, slowly. He felt all around the area. He’d missed the doorway by only six inches to the left. He turned so that his back was to the wall and edged sideways out of the room, keeping his spine pressed against the stone and the crossbow cocked and loaded pointing back into the room.

He moved slowly, trying not to make any sound, edging his way inch by inch along the corridor, all his senses alert for any noise from the room he had left.

His biggest problem would be finding the ladder in the darkness. It came down almost in the middle of a large room.