Under A Velvet Cloak (25 page)

Kerena took off the Cloak and folded it, stifling its growing radiance. She could control its cycles, but was satisfied to have her Symbol: the velvet Cloak of Night. “But this won’t enable me to remember myriad secrets,” she said.

“I wonder,” Vanja said. “We seem to know more now than our ancestors did. Will our descendants know more than we do?”

“Surely so,” Morely agreed. “But Verena’s problem is now.”

“But if she can travel in time, maybe she can go see how they track things in the future. It might help.”

Kerena was intrigued but dubious. “Could our descendants tell me how to remember better?”

“Why don’t you
go
look and see?” Vanja asked.

“Can I
do
that?” Kerena asked Molly.

“Well, you can’t be sure that what you see will really happen,” the ghost replied. “Because even your knowing about it can change it.”

“She doesn’t need to know the specific future,” Morely said. “She merely needs to observe an
d
learn a superior technique.”

“She should be able to do that,” Molly said.

Kerena remained unconvinced, but was willing to give it a try. “Then let’s go look.”

Jolie was interested. She could travel in time, because this was not truly
her
time; there was no necessary paradox. But if Kerena went to the future and brought something back, wouldn’t that invite paradox? Still, the lines were not fudging, so she could relax and see.

“Do they wear clothing in the future?” Kerena asked.

“Surely they do,” Morely said. “For warmth, protection, display, and privacy. But it probably won’t resemble what you wear today. There’s probably no point in taking any current clothing, as it would only mark you as a foreigner.”

“I will take the Velvet Cloak. That’s is my symbol, and I have imbued it with significant magic.”

“Of course, he agreed. “But you won’t want to cut that up for future fashion.”

“Never!” she agreed, horrified by the notion.

“I can help,” Molly said. “I learned sewing before I died, a maidenly skill I thought might one day be useful as a mother.” Then she was quiet, remembering that her death had forfeited all of that.

“Take cloth, shears, needles, thread,” Morely said. “Then let Molly make what you need when you know the style.”

Vanja set her up with a knapsack filled with the essentials, including some food and a vial of blood. She put it on and looked in the mirror. “A nude girl with a backpack,” she said, bemused. The Cloak was neatly folded inside the pack.

“A lovely nude girl,” Morely said. “The contrast is suggestive. I wonder-?”

“Do it swiftly,” she said, laughing. “I’m ready to travel.”

He embraced her, bearing her back against the wall, standing. She braced against the knapsack and thrust her groin against his, meeting him thrust for thrust. It was indeed swift, almost instant, but intense and gratifying. She was pleased to note that her new status as the Incarnation of Night had not depleted her ardor; she could still respond as rapidly and intensely as a man, and retained her interest in doing it frequently. Then she kissed him, disengaged, and mopped up.

“I’m jealous,” Vanja said. “You never did me that way. You were so turned on I feared she would sail into the air when you climaxed.”

“Then fetch a knapsack, girl,” Kerena said as she phased down and oriented on the future. She was pleased to see the accelerating forms of the man and woman indulging as she moved forward in time, both wearing knapsacks.

“You have invented a new mode of sex,” Molly said. “Now all the vamps will be doing it in knapsacks.”

“I’ll lend you the body and knapsack so you can do it too, when there’s a suitable man.”

“Thank you,” Molly agreed, laughing.

She had started traveling in the warren. Now she slid upward to reach the ground, preferring to see what was passing outside. It was the forest, the trees this time growing larger, aging, disappearing, being replaced by sprouts and saplings filling in the places.

Then the trees were gone. Only bare ground remained. “What happened?” Molly asked, surprised.

Kerena slowed, stopped, and solidified. She stood on he wreckage of the forest. Only brush remained. There were a number of decaying flat-topped stumps. “They cut them down,” she said, appalled. “All of them.”

“Why would they do that?”

“They must have wanted the wood.”

“But now there won’t be any more wood. They left none to grow.”

“It does seem nonsensical,” Kerena agreed. “Maybe when I learn to fully handle my powers I’ll be able to stop the cutting, and save the forest.”

They resumed travel into the future, drifting across the terrain to get away from the lost forest. Buildings appeared, aged, and vanished, to be replaced by larger ones. “There must be a lot of people living here,” Molly said.

“There must be,” Kerena agreed, not entirely pleased. She would rather have kept the forest.

She accelerated, so as to spare them further sights along the way. She used her Seeing to orient on what she wanted: a way to keep track of all the information she would now be able to gather. She didn’t know how far into the future she was going, but her impression was a thousand years or more. Maybe fifteen hundred.

Her Seeing found its object. She slowed, and stopped.

She stood on a city street, naked except for her knapsack. She hastily made herself invisible and inaudible, as she suspected her appearance in this manner of garb would attract more attention than she liked.

Now they studied the sights of the street. There were floating carriages that moved without being drawn by horses. There were stores with fancy windows showing their wares. People appeared before the stores to look, then went inside if they felt inclined. Some appeared in the street, then floated to one of the upper stories, where there were doors. Obviously magic, and everybody had it.

“No horses, no workmen,” Molly noted. “I think we’re not in Scotland any more.”

“We’re in Scotland, but not the one we know. They evidently have magic for everything. They must conjure their food and supplies, or just float to wherever the things they need are.”

Jolie was interested. This was what in her day was called Hi~Tech magic. But there had to be something to power it. Magic wasn’t free; there was always a cost, just as there was with science. Also, was her awareness of the alignment of timelines operative here in the future? She doubted it, as this was a tenuous future, rather than a fixed one. Yet it could affect the alignment by changing Kerena’s outlook in her own time. Well, maybe Jolie would be able to verify the alignment when they returned.

A handsome man wearing a turban appeared before them. “May I be of service, pretty maiden? I see you are without a companion.”

Kerena extended her Seeing-and recoiled. This was a demon! What was he doing out of Hell? Her invisibility was useless against that kind. But she masked her reaction. “What did you have in mind?”

“Oh, the usual fair exchange of desire. I fulfill your worldly needs, you fulfill my sexual needs.”

Kerena was surprised despite her caution. So was Jolie, for different reason. It was known that demons desired mortal humans for sex, but normally this was confined to the punishments of Hell. Massively endowed male demons perpetually ravished the souls and tight vaginas of prudish women, while winsome bare female demons tempted eager men without ever granting them release. Sometimes, it was hinted, mortal male and female souls were then put together naked while demons watched and made bets on the outcome. Hell was not a nice place. “You openly proffer a deal like that?”

He squinted at her. “You’re a vampire! What are you doing here?”

“Just looking around,” Kerena replied evenly. “Demons are prejudiced against vampires?”

“No. Mortals are. Here come the police.” Uniformed men appeared, surrounding them. “There she stands,” the demon told them indignantly. “A shameless loose bare vampire.”

“Fetch a stake,” the head policeman said as he advanced on Kerena. “No, first we’ll have to torture her for information. There’s obviously been a leak in the tank.” He brandished a bright silver cross as his other hand went to the front fastening of his trousers.

Kerena didn’t know exactly what he was talking about, but she shot backward in time, escaping the threat.

“What do you think?” she asked Molly as she came to a stop a few years earlier.

“They tame demons,” Molly said. “Demons must do all the magic for them, in return for sex. Why demons want sex so much with mortals I don’t understand, but that seems to be the deal. You could make it readily enough.”

“Every male wants sex with personable young live women,” Kerena said. “You saw how eager the ghosts are.”

“True. And demons are twice as sex obsessed as ghosts. So you have a ready means of exchange.”

“But they kill vampires. I can’t risk that.”

“You can’t,” Molly agreed. “And we didn’t even learn if they can remember things.”

“Maybe they don’t need to, in an all magic realm.” But she reconsidered immediately. “My Seeing brought me there, so they must have a way. Maybe the demons
do
it all. But I wouldn’t trust a demon for that; I want to have complete control myself, always.”

“I wouldn’t trust a demon for anything. They’re all like Lilah, if not worse. But what is there, if not a magic way?”

“Morely taught me that there are usually alternatives to magic, like science. He never used magic if there was another way. He studied the stars without magic.”

“Did he count the stars? There are so many.”

“Even more than we can see. Myriads, he said.”

“Could there be a-a science way to keep track of them, or other things?”

“I wonder. I can try to visit a science future, though I don’t know whether that would interfere with my magic.”

“Is Night limited to magic?”

Kerena considered. Then she used her Seeing. “No,” she said, surprised. “Nox can fathom any secret, regardless of the universe it is in. I was limiting my thinking, not being rational. Morely will chide me.”

“Horrors,” Molly said pleasantly. “Something else: shouldn’t the language change in fifteen hundred years? That demon spoke just like us.”

“The gift of tongues,” Kerena said, abruptly discovering another Nox ability. “Night knows all languages. It was actually rather different from ours.” But she remembered something vaguely unsettling: she had understood other languages when visiting Rome with Lilah. Had she been picking up on the powers of Night before becoming Nox? That suggested that her course was guided rather than coincidental.

Jolie, too, wondered. She remembered how the ghost woman Orlene had begun assuming some of the powers of the Incarnation of Good before she had been voted into the Office. Indeed, before she had an inkling of it. Was individual choice more apparent than real? Or did the ambiance of such status extend backwards as well as forwards?

“I’m glad you became Nox before traveling this far,” Molly said.

“Blind luck. Let’s call it foresight.”

“Naturally.”

She followed her Seeing. That took her back a thousand years, then forward on another track. This brought them to what appeared to be the same city street. There were floating coaches and stores with window displays.

“Are you sure it worked?” Molly asked as Kerena hastily made herself undetectable.

“It is the same place, but has to be a different future,” Kerena said uncertainly. “I will use my Seeing again.” She concentrated, willing herself to become aware of the proper course.

A coach paused, and a rather muscular handsome young man stepped out. The coach floated away, leaving him standing on the walk. He wore an iridescently green shirt and metallic shorts, with what looked like wooden boots. “Hello,” he said. “Is someone here?”

Kerena stared. Her Seeing indicated that he was what she was looking for. But did she dare make herself apparent, after what had happened before?”

“I received a telepathic signal,” the man said. “It indicated that I would find it well worthwhile to befriend a girl I would find here. Was that mistaken?”

“If you don’t want him, I do” Molly said. “He is surely a fantastic lover.”

Molly decided, she hoped not for that reason. She had not encountered the concept of telepathy before, but gathered that it meant he had somehow received her mental presence. That, she hoped, was a good sign. She made herself appear. “That must have been mine.”

He looked. His pupils expanded. “Well, now!”

Kerena remembered belatedly that she was still nude with her knapsack. Well, maybe that was suitable to impress the man. “I could use some help.”

“You’re beautiful!”

“I could use some clothing,” she said. “I may indeed need a friend.”

“You wish to make a stipulation of friendship with me?”

Her Seeing remained positive. “Yes.”

“To what degree? What term?”

She avoided showing her confusion. “What do you prefer?”

“Need you inquire? Of course I want romance. How about a fortnight renewable term?”

Fourteen days! Kerena was appalled. She intended to be here only hours. Yet her Seeing remained amenable. She had to do it. It wasn’t as if it would make a difference when she returned, as she would go to the time she had left. She could manage time far better than she had when visiting the Incarnations. And the man was handsome. “Yes.”

“Wonderful! I hope you are as fetching as you appear. I am Kermit.”

“I am Kerena.” Was that sheer coincidence, or confirmation that they were slated to be together?

A screen appeared before him. “Kermit and Kerena committing to a fortnight romance,” he said.

A woman’s face appeared on the screen. “Kermit is listed. Kerena is not. More detail, please.”

That set him back. “How can she be unlisted? She is standing here before me.”

Oops. Of course Kerena did not exist in this future; she was from its past. Yet this challenge demonstrated that this culture had a way to check every person in it, immediately. That was exactly the kind of thing she had come for. “Please, can we withdraw, for the moment?”

“Withdrawn,” Kermit said to the screen, and it disappeared.