Chaos. Part 12

A door opened. Slammed shut. Fingers pulled the blindfold up to his forehead.

Miranda Card stood above him, expressionless except for a wicked flash in her eyes. She'd changed into a charcoal dress with thin straps over each shoulder, black lacy underclothing peeking below the hem at her knees. Instead of high heels, she wore black leather boots with dark grey socks. Black rubber straps circled her neck and wrists. A tattoo of a serpent crawled along her right shoulder.

She tugged the muzzle free and shoved a bowl of water toward him with her foot. "Drink. I don't need you dead yet."

Johnis had no appet.i.te for water, not with this creature lording over him. She was worse than the Shataikia"at least they were inhuman beasts given to the destruction of good. But this one a A human who'd turned. Like Tanis. Like the Horde. It was no wonder that the people of the Histories would come to a nasty end, as was spoken of in hushed tones around campfiresa"more than mere legends.

"I'm sorry your travels between the worlds had to come to such an abrupt end so soon, but I've been patient enough."

"You're bluffing; you only have three of the books," he said.

"I a.s.sure you, I have the blue book, complete with the smudge of Datsal's blood on the first page. I not only have it; I've used it to enter the simulationa"Paradisea"many times. I a.s.sume you know about the simulation. The skin of this world."

"I've been there once. The man in the desert."

"Oh, thata"Red, one of Black's creations gone rogue. As was White. Never mind them. I have all four books now, which is the key to the final three."

"You're underestimating Karas," Johnis said, "She's probably already on a jet, chasing you down."

"Is that so? To where?"

"Turkey."

Miranda grinned, then flattened her mouth. "Turkey is where the books were collected before they went to the monastery. They disappeared again, but not to Turkey; I've exhausted my search there,"

"Then where?"

Miranda walked to the door, opened it, and stepped outside. "Romania," she said, and shut him into pitch darkness once again.

THE FLIGHT LASTED FOR MANY HOURS, AND AT ONE POINT Johnis was sure they would perish. The flying contraption bounced around like a tube strapped to a stallion's rear quarters. He cried out in alarm a dozen times, begging for Elyon to take him quickly, but if anyone was listening, he neither responded nor settled the bucking ship.

It occurred to him after an hour of being thrown about that they must be under attack. Karas had found them and was giving chase! It was the only possible explanation. Surely she realized that if the jet crashed to the ground, he would go with it! But when they finally hauled him from the craft in the dead of night, no one showed any concern of having narrowly escaped disaster.

They bound him in the back of a square, black car and sped through darkness, led by another car that carried Miranda Card. "Bucharest," one of them said, when Johnis asked where they were. And then, with a chuckle, "Welcome to h.e.l.l."

Johnis still had some advantages they might not know about. His speed, his strength. His superior intelligence, although according to Karas, his mind would need time to make the adjustment.

Neither his speed nor his strength offered any advantage as long as they kept him in shackles. They seemed to have taken all the necessary precautions.

The large car left the city lights behind and climbed laboriously up a winding road that quickly turned rough. Dirt rather than concrete. A light fog settled over the mountain, but the headlamps pierced it with thick chords of light. The longer they traveled, the less talking took place between the driver and his guard. Soon the only sounds were the engines whine and crunching gravel under the wheels.

When they finally stopped and turned off the engine, the air felt heavy, or was it the silence? The fog had thinned, and he could see the colossal citadel towering over them, barely visible against the dark sky. No lights. And no windows to allow light out.

Miranda walked in ahead of him. They shoved him forward, forcing him to take small, quick steps to avoid tripping on the shackles.

He stumbled through huge wooden doors that thudded shut behind him. Miranda's hard-soled shoes echoed down the torch-lit stone hall.

"There is no escape, chosen one. Follow me." Her voice dripped with spite.

Johnis followed, his heart pounding with each clank of his chains. Down the hall, into a stairwell that curved as it fell into the ground. He stopped at the entrance to several tunnels and lifted his arm to his nose. The odor was unmistakable: Shataiki.

He'd been in Teeleh's lair. Then Alucard's lair. And now another lair, here in the Histories: Romania.

"Move!"

He obeyed. Mucus covered the walls. No worms, but they were near; all of this sludge had come from somewhere. He shivered and forced his legs to move on, toward his objective.

It was true, no matter how much fear coursed through his veins, he was as much drawn by purpose as pushed by his enemy's demands now. He'd come to the Histories to destroy evil, not flee from it!

The thought gave him some courage, but not much.

Miranda disappeared through a gate ahead on his right. He slowed, listening. Very soft popping sounds ran up and down the tunnel. But by peering into the light cast by the wall sconces, he could see only more darkness beyond.

The iron gate rested open, and he stepped cautiously through. A couch, a desk, bookshelves mostly empty. But unlike Teeleh's or Alucard's lair, this study had a large opening in the back. Another tunnel glowed with flickering flame. Water dripped far away.

He hesitated only a moment, then headed in. The floor sloped down, deeper into the ground. For a few steady breaths, he seriously considered turning and running, but he knew that there was no escape.

So he pushed his legs on. Further. Deeper.

The tunnel opened into a large, two-story library lit by wall torches and a half-dozen candelabras rising from dark wooden tables at the center. Wrought-iron railings ran the perimeter of the second floor and opened to the large atrium in which Johnis had entered.

Thousands of books lined the shelves on either side, but the wall directly ahead was draped with red velvet swags. A single table was framed by the heavy drapes. Twin candlesticks, each forming a winged serpent, sat on the table: Teeleh's symbol.

Miranda stood before the table, her back toward him. She turned and walked to one side, giving him full view of the table. The four books lay one on top of the othera"black, brown, blue, green.

"Welcome to my world," Miranda said.

Johnis looked at the woman standing like a warrior in a dress, boots, and long, stringy hair. She looked as if she might be sick.

"Your world or his world?" Johnis asked.

"Is there a difference?"

"You don't know what you've gotten yourself into."

"And I would say it's you who have no idea what you've stumbled into. If Darsal was right, you were nothing but a poet a few weeks ago, rejected by this Forest Guard of yours. Your little quest is only four weeks old, isn't that right?"

So much had happened that it felt much longer. "Yes, that's right."

"Here in the so-called Histories, the quest for the books' power is over two thousand years old." Miranda's lips twisted in a whimsical smile. "You're but the latest little blip in a very long and gruesome ordeal that's lasted centuries. Darsal stumbled into something much larger than she could possibly know. As have you. The truth is, you know nothing, little Johnis." Then much louder, even furious, "Nothing!"

"I know where he comes from!" Johnis gestured toward the candlesticks. "Who he is. What he's capable of."

Miranda chuckled and walked slowly past the table, brushing the four books with her fingertips. "Really? Then tell me even one thing you know so well. Tell me who he is?"

"The Dark One: Alucard."

"The nasty beast, Alucard. And what do you really know about Alucard?"

"That Teeleh sent him here to deceive the likes of you, which he's done surprisingly well in such a short time."

Miranda walked back, her hands now behind her back like a lecturer. Grinning at the fool. "You see, already you're misinformed. Alucard has been here for two thousand years, sowing seeds of misery and darkness in more ways than you've imagined."

She let the statement settle.

"And although he's a nasty beast around whom a whole mythology has emerged, sp.a.w.ning hundreds of stories about vampires and creatures of the night and all such things, he's not this *Dark One' Darsal went on and on about. Not in this world, anyway. For that matter, neither is Marsuvees Black. Nor Red nor White a nor any of the other minions."

"Who then?"

"Unfortunately, you'll never know," Miranda's eyes settled on the table, and for the first time Johnis saw a silver knife resting beside the four books. "I do believe he intends to kill you the same way he killed Darsal seven years ago."

She picked up the knife and pulled the blade out of its silver sheath. "Not with a knife; he prefers another, more intimate method that's well-known in this world."

An image of Darsal bleeding to death from a neck bite blossomed in Johnis's mind. He'd never heard of the Shataiki killing that way. Then again, until a few weeks ago, the Shataiki were hardly more than legend in a world far away.

"You cannot thwart the will of Elyon," he said with as much confidence as he could muster.

"Elyon? You haven't heard? G.o.d is dead in this world. They killed him two thousand years ago. Alucard was there."

Johnis had no clue what Miranda referred to, but it hardly mattered any longer. His task was a simple one, and he had no intention of allowing her to complicate things.

"Why did you bring me here?"

"Because I asked her to," a voice rasped from above.

Johnis jerked his head up and stared at the rafters. The diseased, batlike creature hung from the center beam, staring down with yellow eyes.

Alucard.

He hid himself among thick worms, like a mother nesting her eggs. Slowly he unfolded himself, then dropped from the ceiling and landed on the library floor next to Miranda. Eyes on Johnis.

Alucard's mangy skin was whiter than he remembered, covered with mucus now, and his eyes had turned yellow. Otherwise two thousand years hadn't changed the beast.

"h.e.l.lo, Johnisssss a"

eeleh's Lair."

Silvie paced, biting at her fingernail. "What was he thinking? We all went into Alucard's lair, but Johnis was the only one who went into Teeleh's beneath the lake. It was where he found the brown book."

"There has to be more than you've told me," Karas said. "Why else would he tell you to tell me? You have to think!"

"I'm trying to!" Silvie shouted. "But something about this air, this cursed world a I can't think straight! I thought we were supposed to be more intelligent, not less!"

"Calm down, I'm not the enemy here. And the intelligence will come; have patience. It may take a few days, a couple weeksa"" "We don't have a couple weeks!"

"Then sit down and think with me! Start at the beginning."

"Again?"

"Again!"

The night had crawled by in relentless fits of tears and threats to end it all here and now. They had to give chase, never mind that they didn't know where toa"just go. They had to inform the authorities, never mind that the police would likely send them both off to the fruit form. They had to offer money, information, cars, whatever was necessary to purchase Johnis's life back, never mind that they didn't know who to offer it to.

The eastern sky had grayed with dawn, and now even Karas was showing signs of panic, which didn't help matters. Silvie dropped onto the couch that faced Los Angeles, which was spread out like an endless gray canyon before them. Her head spun with the events of the past week. They'd gone from celebrated heroes in the forest to insignificant fruits in the Histories in a matter of days.

"It's hopeless," she said. "Look at that."

"I do," Karas said. "Nearly every day."

"Thousands and thousands of buildings. Millions of people. Cars and airplanes and endless miles of stone or concrete or asphalt or whatever you call it. Fortunes being made and lost, rock stars getting their feet kissed, ordinary people eating and dressing and dreaming. And here we sit, like two ants on the hill, thinking we must or can do something to change any of it. You don't ever feel helpless?"

"Completely," Karas said. "Try doing it for ten years a"

"Right." She looked at Karas. "None of them even know that there are seven Books of History that can reshape reality as they know it."

"No. But some of them wouldn't be surprised."

"Where we come from, one day's events could change everything. Are there ever earth-shattering incidents here? Wars that change everything? Outcomes that every man, woman, and child leans forward to hear?"

"Not really, no. But everyone knows it will happen one day."

"Could they imagine that it happening? Right now. Today!"

"Some," she sighed. "Please, Silvie. I know you're not thinking straight. You've been uprooted; we've lost the books; Johnis is gone a"

"He kissed me, Karas." She felt the tears seep into her eyes and made no attempt to blink them away, "We have fallen in love. I know it's foolish for members of the Forest Guard, and I know we are only just of marrying age, but I would marry him. Nothing else matters to me anymore."

"The books a"

"What about you, Karas? You're twenty-one. Surely you've fallen in love."

"More than once."

"I mean, look at you! You're stunning. What's wrong with the men in the Histories? They should be lined up outside your door!"

"Well, that's not how we do things here, but they are." She looked far off, "But I've been a little too preoccupied to entertain more than a pa.s.sing interest,"

Spoken like the principled little girl who'd broken ranks with the Horde at great risk to herselfa"almost a reprimand.

"Perhaps if I had someone like Johnis a"

"Don't even think about it!"

"Don't be ridiculous," Karas said, blushing. "I know when I'm beat. Unfortunately, men from our world are in short supply here."

Silvie felt bad for the girl.

"Well, I have a feeling that everything's going to change in the very near future." Silvie took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. "Okay, let's start at the beginning. What did Johnis mean, *Teeleh's lair'? He wanted to say something that I would understand without Miranda's knowledge."