The Wiccan Diaries: Neophyte Adept Part 2

"She will meet a vampire... His strength will protect her from death... They will have a Power... of Sight..." Could this be? Was I her? I repeated Infester's words. "...And he showed me these symbols," I told Lennox. "I think I'm her, this witch, whoever she is. It's like there's somebody else here. Like there's two of me: who I am, whoever that is, and this new person, and she... or I... is super powerfulor could be. I don't know. Promise you won't leave me. I must stay strong. Whoever is looking for me, they're going to try and take me. Lennox... When Marek gashed me, my wound healed overnight. Yet this magic, if that is what it is, is immature. I think I may be, strange as this may sound, connected, somehow, to others... like mebut they're different. I feel them calling to me."

"What do they say?" said Lennox.

"'Come... Find us...' But what us?" I said. "In my diary... it's all in... my diary."

"Diary? What diary?" said Lennox.

Chapter 2 Venice.

The water was gentle. I could hear the oars working. The wooden hull creaked beneath my body, through which I could feel the current; it tore secretly beneath us, guiding he and I.

The two of us... together.

When I opened my eyes, Lennox was rowing: the muscles of his upper chest flexed; the veins stood out on his arms Like wires, like blood-filled ropes.

We were leaving Rat Rock. The stars reflected in the water. His eyes were like two Northern Lights: mysterious and elusive and ever-changing. I realized it was the lagoon algae glowing on the surface of the water, and not any fickleness in my love. His gaze penetrated to where I lay, and then he looked off, to VeniceWe were drawing nearer.

It was past Midnight, a word, somehow, that should always be capitalized. Venice's green-tinged silhouette lay before us like a collection of huge jagged rocks, thrust from nowhere. Its ancient edifices rose from the lagoon like bewitched stone. I could see towers and tunnels, and secret, hidden places, where no one should go; which was precisely where we were headed. To the vampires who made it their home.

Nervousness had been replaced by uncertainty; both for myself and for the world I had imagined and our place within it. Suddenly everything was being jeopardized. I didn't like it. It p.i.s.sed me off. As for Lennox, I could see him steel himself; there was something going on with him more than just our Fate.

I had never before seen him so contemplative and like a statue. Like the mysteries of the world somehow came down and sat upon his brow. He was enc.u.mbered with more thoughts than I could count. Plus there was the Agonies.

Our little boat battled along. We avoided the main artery, the Grand Ca.n.a.l, that snaked through the impossibly-constructed city.

Beautiful, delicate ribbonworks of orange gla.s.s stood out from false balconies, as we navigated the minute chambers of water. Footpaths ran alongside the ca.n.a.ls we were in, and storybook bridges shot above us like rainbows. There were strange openings, many of which were concealed behind rusted iron bars, in the sides of the buildings; they leaned this way and that. There were small gardens in the air. They threw out leafy vines, that crawled along the rosy bricks and crumbling plaster. Towering campaniles with lighted rooftops, festooned with gargoyles and other Renaissance architectural flourishes, soared above us.

The moon disappeared and reappeared. We were traveling deeper into the heart of Venice. It was quiet out. Lennox and I could hear crowds of people, but they were far away, in some other, more populace, part of Venice.

Empty gondolas and other boats were lashed to wooden piles that broke from the murky depths of the ca.n.a.l we were in; they bobbed in the current, making small b.u.mps and sc.r.a.ping noises as they hit one another and the sides of the buildings.

The ca.n.a.l would open up, and then it was like we were in a fishing village, with a myriad multicolor lights dancing on the surface of the water, and then it would close in, and the fog would obscure us.

I had seen supertankers on the outskirts of the city; we were comparatively insignificant.

That was exactly how I liked it.

Lennox worked, taking us deeper into Venice.

Everywhere I looked were the most interesting sculptures: cherubs, and angels fallen from grace, and lions, men on horseback, battling hydras; flowers marked some sculptures like they were graves; there was even a giant alligator. It was Lennox himself who was the most impressive.

Time would not age him. I saw him sitting there, a beautiful angel, not cracked and crumbling like the other sculptures around him, but eternal, crafted by the hand of an artist, and I so ephemeral; he would outlive me by lifetimes; by lifetimes of lifetimes, so far into the future that countless new lives would replace the memory of the one he and I had shared together.

"What are you looking at?" he said.

"You."

I saw my diary, then, sitting at his feet. We had taken nothing else. He sat in the bow, looking at it. I grabbed it in my panic. "You're not reading that, are you?" I said.

"No," he said.

I relaxed. "I feel different, somehow. Like I'm changing," I said. I flipped through my diary. There was a drawing in there. Of a monster, the one that was hunting me.

I had executed it with a thick charcoal pencil, extracting the form from the negative s.p.a.ce: a pair of watchful dark eyes.

"We take very little to Rat Rock," said Lennox. "And take nothing when we leave."

I a.s.sumed he meant Dallace and Camille and himself.

"Do they know we're coming?" I asked.

"Camille can sense it," said Lennox.

"That's something that might be called a power," I said. "You know, what you're so reticent about describing to me."

He laughed. "The last thing I want is for you to get too comfortable with vampires," he said.

"Never!" I said as dramatically as possible.

We were there. The stones were slick from the mist and fog. An expensive-looking motor boat with wooden panels sat docked at the bulwark. A tarpaulin covered it. I could just make out the name. Bellezza Immortale.

Immortal Beauty.

A set of steps crawled from the water. Dark angles cut the grid of ca.n.a.lsleaving this place suspended in a world unto itself, between time. Anything well-aged and useful merited my respect; which translated to a love of Italian doors. They were so solid and beautiful, and they often contained little hints as to what lay inside.

This one had a quatrefoil carved into the black and aged wood, a simple series of four rings, I took to be symbolical, and a knocker, in the shape of a lion's head.

The building itself was imposing. Two towers rose behind a large stone wall, through which a set of rusty iron gates sat, either inviting or imperious, I couldn't be sure, on their half-closed hinges. It was a kind of throughway to the bright lights that shone from the large panes of arched gla.s.s. Stone columns led from a kind of inner garden. Over everything a leafy green glow manifested itself. Even in the middle of the night.

It felt alive, yet sacred; the fusing of two fundamentally distinct concepts: the eternal and the now; the old and the new.

"We're here."

I didn't know if it was my heart knocking, or else Lennox hitting the side of the bulwark, with our little boat. He lashed it to the bollard.

"Are you nervous?" he said. "Don't be."

I gulped in response.

You're okay, you can do this, I told myself. I watched Lennox, lost inside himself; then he came out of it. Two vampires were standing at the iron gates.

My first impression was that they were identical, almost brother and sisterthe same, yet differentso completely did they complement the other.

It was only when I got over the awe of their sudden arrival, that I noticed the differences.

They were both predatorythat was evident immediately; but their stillness suggested they were on their very best behavior. The manif you could call him thatwas almost identical to the cla.s.sic male models in any glamor magazine. He had a perfect shaped jaw, and high chiseled cheeks. His eyes were comely and aloof, belying an intense speculative interest. And of course he was perfectly featured throughout.

The woman was extravagant. She exuded a kind of dangerous sensuality; if he was manicured, she was jagged. Her flaws a counterpoint to his own self-perfection.

Her first words to me were an excitement of thrills, like poisoned petals, opening to ensnare, I was to realize were the pursuit of her endless existence. Which is to say that she thrilled me.

There are people that you meet whom you know will give you beautiful experiences. Such a.s.sociations are never fated to last. But that was exactly what she was offering. The opportunity to come be with her. With them. I only had to choose.

The rusty iron gates opened inwardly. Something I thought was important. Like an invitation almost, I would be fool to refuse. I saw my past, and everything in it, vanish.

Lennox introduced us. He seemed to put no significance on greeting Dallace and Camille, himself. I thought I saw a sparkle of something in Dallace's eye; but then he turned to look at me.

Where Lennox's eyes were lavender, Dallace's were like emerald planets. I could see the clouds roll in and thunder. His mind opened up and delivered a truly astonishing message: you truly have nothing to fear.

I grasped at it hungrily.

"You must be Halsey," he said. I felt myself being sucked into his eyes. "This is my wife, Camille," said Dallace. He helped me from the landing; Lennox looked on, with a smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Halsey Rookmaakeryou have an exciting name," said Camille. "It's so full of odd things."

I didn't know what to say to that. "It's just what they gave me," I said.

"Oh, they gave you more than that."

She looked me over, if somewhat boldly. She and Lennox exchanged no pleasantries. But Dallace hugged him like a brother. "Welcome home," he said.

Lennox took my hand. "We need to talk," he said to Dallace. Somewhere in the mix, Dallace had his arm around Lennox, and they were whispering ahead.

Dallace's garments were simple; on him, exceedingly daring. I could not get over his age, and that he looked like he had seen so much. I reminded myself that he probably had. Just how old was he, anyway?

It was Camille I was with, and she was like fire. I heard the gates snap shut behind us. The outside sounds all went away; only a pleasant gurgling, I figured was thanks to the Eden they had constructed for themselves behind closed walls.

Luxuriant large leaves, and the fingers of supple trees, blocked the sky. There were footpaths in the garden, large round stones with gra.s.s growing wildly between them. Lennox and Dallace walked ahead. They would turn, and by a trick of the path, disappear, leaving Camille and I to become acquainted. I was suddenly a jumble of awkward feelings.

"It's late, and you are in a garden full of vampires," she said.

Tell me about it. I could feel my heart beat.

"I know," I said. "Believe me."

Her long hair was straight and sleek, like a curtain of Midnight, and just a swirl, or band, of red, accentuating it. Two round moist eyes led to a mind that was almost child-like. "I will show you to your room," she said. "For sleep is a boon. Come along."

I followed; the last thing I heard was Lennox's voice raised in agitation. "Forget them," said Camille. Her voice was wicked and singsong and had little bells in it. "Come along with me."

What else could I do? It was exceedingly late. Everything had a quasi-lucid glow. I felt myself moving, without really knowing how I got there. First up one set of stairs, then another, her voice telling me to follow her. "Your room," she said.

I fell into an enchanted slumber. All night long I heard the whispering moths' voices. They were in the garden; I was not. When I awoke, it was morning. It broke into my lighted room, from a balcony. I had a serious case of deja vu. For a second, I thought I was back in the Eternal City. The house was quiet. It was high up. I could see out over Venice from my bed covers.

It was a moment before I realized that I had not had any dreams. No snuffling, or dark eyes. Nothing. Only peaceful, unperturbed sleep.

My diary was on a small nightstand, watching over me. So far as I knew it had not been touched. If I was going to be so paranoid about it, I should just stop keeping the diary. Secrets are better left un-blabbed.

My guard had been up. Some of it fell away. But then I heard them.

"I won't let anyone hurt her. That includes all of you. I'm serious." Lennox's voice.

"What do you take us for? Monsters?"

There was some general laughter.

"She is not one of us. It's dangerous," said Camille.

"He needs a lady in his life, even one so fragile," said Dallace. I took the opportunity to mentally memorize both of their voices. The unreality of last night was, by now, gone. I was in a house full of vampires, and they were arguing, about me. Why?

"But that's the thing, is she?" said Camille. "In case you missed it, Lennoxlove, this gathering is taking place. It's time you came to certain inexorable truths. Among them that you cannot protect her forever and always. At some point, she will be indoctrinated into the larger world."

"He knows that, Camille. And I want you two to stop arguing."

"Why?"

"Because Halsey Rookmaaker is awake. And she is listening to every word we say."

I felt the fluids in my heart gurgle through my veins. They had heard me. How? I didn't even move. Lennox explained. I came down sometime after, and entered the garden. Dallace and Camille had gone for a stroll.

"They like to walk in the garden," said Lennox. "It's bigger than it looks."

That still didn't explain how they had known I was awake.

"For someone magical, you sure find it difficult to accept the supernatural," he said.

I gave him that. "I never said I was perfect," I said.

"Just the one," he said, getting that far-off look again. Was he in pain? Did it have something to do with the Agonies?

"Don't you see that I crave knowledge, and, well, everything?" I said, trying to get him to see reason, and open up to me.

"I fear," said Lennox, "that I will know nothing about you, and you will know everything there is to know about me."

"What is there to tell?" I said. I would let him decide if I meant him or me, by that. Something sparkled. I saw a tray of lemonade. There was only one gla.s.s. It was like crystal. There were also sandwiches; bits of cuc.u.mber poked from them.

"It is for you," he said.

I took one and ate it. I didn't realize how hungry I was. "Mmm. Nom nom. I'm waiting," I said. He poured the lemonade.

"You truly are incorrigible," he said.