The Parliament of Blood (23 page)

George was staring at Eddie, willing him to come out of his waking sleep. ‘Eddie,' he mouthed. ‘Eddie – we have to get out of here.'

Eddie's expression did not change. But he winked.

Ruthven had stepped away, leaving Eddie on one side of the altar, and Kingsley on the other. Making it look as though he knew what he was doing and was taking part in the ceremony George walked over to stand beside Eddie.

‘You all right?' George hissed out of the side of his mouth.

‘Oh yeah,' Eddie murmured back, still staring ahead. ‘Going to have my blood sucked out and all, but I'm fine.'

‘We have to get out of here.'

‘You don't say?'

Further whispered discussion was curtailed as the Coachman continued with his speech. ‘We are gathered here today to witness the Great Awakening. Our Lord walks among us once more. He watches over us and keeps us safe. And when we find the Fifth Casket, our Lord will once more be complete. And He will take his rightful place as our ruler. He will reign over us, as our supreme sovereign.'

The Coachman had spread his arms. As he finished, he brought them together, pointing down the length of the chamber towards the far wall, drenched in darkness.

The lights sputtered and flared. The walls glowed red as the lamplight seemed to creep along them, into the darkness.

‘Oh my cripes,' Eddie said out loud.

The whole assembly turned hungrily to watch as the light reached the back wall and illuminated the horror that hung there.

‘Behold Orabis!' the Coachman cried. ‘He is awake. Beyond the Lord of the Undead.'

The wall was a mass of criss-crossing pipes and cables and tubes. The sound of the pumps seemed to grow as the light increased – a great heartbeat of sound that emanated from the creature attached to the wall.

It was seated on a throne of wood and metalwork.
Surrounded by valves and metal tubes. The thin pipes that lined the wall joined and connected before feeding into the creature's body.

Like a grotesque parody of sovereignty, Orabis stared out over the assembly. The wall ran red behind him. Viscous fluid dripped from the joints in the pipes and seeped from the wounds where they connected into his body. Dark eyes stared out from the emaciated face. The ragged remains of cloth wrappings hung decaying and rotting from the dark, dry, desiccated skin.

From the Hall of Machines behind him came the sound of the steam pumps as they hissed and spat and forced the blood round the system, through the body.

‘Oh, my God!' George was unable to look away from the horrific sight.

‘Your god indeed,' the Coachman said. ‘That is why you are here. You will serve our Lord Orabis. You will help maintain and service the systems that keep him alive.'

‘But – why?' George could hear the tremor in his own voice. ‘What sort of existence is that?'

‘He needs blood,' the Coachman said simply. ‘Enough to awaken him at the Unwrapping ceremony. Just enough for him to get to the coach. Now he grows stronger with every moment, every drop, absorbing the life force, gaining in power.'

‘You know more about the new technologies than I do,' Kingsley said. He sounded as if he was discussing a mundane engineering project. ‘The newer steam pumps. The possibilities offered by electricity. Your help will be
invaluable, George. I know how the system works and what is required. Together we will be such a team.'

The Coachman turned to face the assembly, to face his Lord. ‘The time is now!' he said again. ‘The place is here! Soon our Lord will again walk among us. The long years, centuries, millennia of waiting will be over. You know my sister and I have abstained from the blood of life since our Lord was so cruelly taken from us. But I tell you, my friends, soon my Lord and I will drink together.'

‘My loyal, steadfast servant.' The voice was rich and soft. It seemed to emanate from the blood-soaked walls. The Lord of the Undead's eyes were black pools, staring across at George and Eddie. ‘You have waited so long while I was lost and slept. But the waiting is almost over. Soon all my people, even Belamis your sister, will awaken to hear my will.'

‘As soon as we have the Fifth Casket, my Lord, and you are whole once more.' The Coachman bowed. ‘We do you reverence.'

The whole assembly slowly bowed their heads. Opposite George, Christopher Kingsley also bowed.

‘What you waiting for?' Eddie whispered in the silence. ‘This is our chance to get out of here.'

They wouldn't be bowing for long. But Eddie was right. If they waited any longer, it would be too late. Heads bowed, as if joining in the ceremony, George and Eddie backed away from the altar and stepped down from the dais.

The chanting had started again. The low murmurs of the crowd echoing the sound of the pumps, growing
slowly louder and more enthusiastic. The Coachman was speaking over it, but George wasn't listening.

As soon as they were out of the main light and in shadow, Eddie and George hurried for the nearest tunnel. George had been afraid he might be lost down here for ever. Now that seemed the better option.

They were almost at the tunnel when the voice of Orabis cut through the chanting and the words of the Coachman.

‘Stop them!'

George looked at Eddie. The boy's wide eyes probably mirrored his own.

‘Run!' they both said together.

George's feet splashed in puddles of thick, dark liquid. The lights on the walls threw flickering crimson shadows across the tunnel. Their footsteps echoed another thump-thump-thump of sound.

‘You know the way out?' Eddie yelled.

‘No. Do you?'

‘Not me. I came by coach.'

‘Why? What are you doing here?' George demanded.

From behind them came the sound of more feet – running.

‘Thought I was being clever,' Eddie said, a bit sheepishly. ‘Wish I hadn't bothered.'

Their own shadows chased them along the tunnel walls, distorted and grotesque parodies of the human form. They skidded to a halt as they reached a junction with two other tunnels.

‘I don't remember this,' George said, hands on knees and bent double to catch his breath.

‘Me neither. Want to guess?'

‘That way.' George pointed to the tunnel off to the right.

Almost at once, they heard the rattle of wheels on stone, and saw the dark shape of the Coachman's black carriage hurtling down the tunnel towards them.

‘Or maybe this way?' Eddie suggested.

George didn't waste breath agreeing. He grabbed Eddie's hand and they ran for all they were worth.

They could hear the carriage gaining on them. The sound of their ragged breathing might have been the snorting of the horses bearing down on them. George risked a backward glance as the tunnel curved slightly. He saw carriage and horses getting closer. The Coachman on the driver's seat, whip raised. The shadow of the carriage on the tunnel wall – a shadow that was
just
the carriage. No Coachman. No horses.

‘In here!'

A deeper shadow in the wall ahead resolved itself into a side passage, too narrow for the carriage to follow. Eddie dragged George inside, and they stood panting in the blackness. Had the Coachman seen them?

The carriage rattled past, and George breathed a heavy sigh. ‘Well done, Eddie.'

Eddie was grinning in the near blackness. ‘Reckon we'll be safe here for a minute or two, till we get our breath back at least.'

Behind Eddie the passageway was dark and unlit. There was just a pale smudged shape in the gloom. The shape moved, came closer, resolved itself into a face. The mouth opened in a smile, to reveal the sharp teeth within.

‘Safe?' The voice was deep and dark. ‘Do you really think so?'

The tall, dark figure stepped forward, allowing the erratic light from the tunnel beyond to fall across him. ‘Nowhere is safe from Orabis and the Coachman.' It was Lord Ruthven.

‘You going to turn us in, then?' Eddie asked defiantly.

Ruthven shook his head.

‘Why not?' George wanted to know.

‘Cos he's sick of it,' Eddie said. ‘I saw his face during some of that. When I wasn't acting mesmerised.'

‘There comes a point,' Lord Ruthven said quietly. ‘Even vampires have morals. Well, some of us.'

‘And what's with this vampire business?' Eddie asked. ‘I thought they were monsters in penny dreadfuls that drank people's blood and turned into bats, or something.'

‘Later,' George said. ‘Let's get out of here first. Then we can find Sir William – he'll know.'

‘He will indeed,' Ruthven said. ‘But it may be too late for him.'

Eddie remembered what the Coachman had said. ‘Been dealt with,' he echoed.

‘What do you mean?' George demanded.

‘I am afraid he may be dead already. Or undead.'

‘
Un
dead?'

‘He means he's been turned into a vampire,' Eddie said. ‘That's right, isn't it?'

‘Sir William has been bitten. His blood is tainted.'

‘So what do we do?' George's voice was trembling. ‘First Kingsley, now Sir William.'

‘Charlie too,' Eddie murmured. ‘Friend of mine,' he explained. ‘We got to get out of here, that's the first thing we do. We got to find Sir William. And Liz.'

‘Liz?' George was aghast. ‘What about Liz?'

‘You mean Miss Oldfield?' Ruthven said.

‘Of course. But how is she involved in all this?'

‘She is to be –' There was a sound from the main tunnel close by, and Ruthven stopped abruptly. ‘You must go,' he whispered. ‘The Coachman's horses will smell you out if you stay down here.' He pushed past Eddie and George and looked out into the tunnel.

‘How do we get out?' George asked.

‘Go back that way,' Ruthven pointed back the way they had come. ‘At the intersection, take the second tunnel on your left. That will bring you back to the Damnation Club.'

Eddie asked: ‘But, aren't you coming too?'

Ruthven shook his head. ‘The Coachman will soon be back. I shall delay him.'

‘Is that dangerous?' George said.

‘I am already dead,' Ruthven told him. ‘The worst they
can do is to kill me again.' But from the tremor in his voice, Eddie guessed that was not true.

The tunnel was empty, but it still resonated with the dull throb of the distant pumps. George and Eddie hurried back to the junction leaving Lord Ruthven hiding in the shadows. The low sound of the steam pumps was joined by a closer noise – the rattle of a carriage.

‘Better get a move on,' Eddie said.

They started to run, the noise growing closer behind them. Looking back, Eddie could see the shadowy outline of the carriage approaching. The horses were galloping along the tunnel, their hoofs echoing off the walls and splashing through the viscous puddles.

‘Not far now,' George assured Eddie as they ran.

Sure enough, they were soon at the junction. Second tunnel on the left, Ruthven had said.

But as they turned into it, both of them could see Clarissa standing at the head of a dozen figures. Her scarlet cloak glowed in the uncertain light.

‘Not that way,' George decided, dragging Eddie back.

The carriage was almost on them. Their only option was to take the first tunnel and try to outrun the Coachman's horses. But Eddie knew it was a matter of moments before the carriage reached them and ran them down.

Flickering lights flashed past as they ran for their lives. The damp from the floor was seeping through Eddie's shoes. He skidded, almost fell, caught his balance and ran on.

‘What's this?' George pulled up sharply as they emerged into an enormous area.

Eddie recognised it as the huge chamber where he had first arrived in the carriage. Where Kingsley's coffin had dropped down on to the carriage.

‘Keep running,' he yelled.

But it was too late. The horses were charging straight at them, just yards away now. At the last moment, Eddie pushed George to one side of the tunnel opening and dived the other way himself. They both went sprawling as the carriage exploded out of the tunnel between them. The horses snorted and turned, bringing the carriage in a wide arc within the cavern.

‘Where now?' George shouted.

‘This way!' Eddie was sprinting towards the area where the roof was lower – the area below the graveyard.

‘But there's no way out,' George yelled as he followed. ‘All the tunnels are back this way.'

‘Trust me!'

The engraved slabs of the roof rushed past as Eddie reached the lower section. Names of those above, sleeping, Eddie realised. Or those who had been removed and were perhaps now searching for him. So many names …

‘Where are we going?' George demanded.

Behind them the horses had completed their turn and were charging again – right at Eddie and George.

‘Up there.' Eddie pointed at the roof. At the dark rectangle where Kingsley's coffin had fallen through on to the carriage. The floor beneath was scattered with earth and stone.