Chapter Eight
October 28, 1839
True to his word, Henry did not leave Daniel's side over the course of the next week. He made Daniel sit opposite the desk in his study while he lectured him, and Daniel sat squirming and blushing like a naughty boy. Henry told him the usual house rules that he made his lovers follow. It was a pleasure to watch Daniel's face go red as he detailed the punishments awaiting him should be break the rules. Daniel occasionally sulked, but he generally accepted the arrangement.
Tonight, Henry had no choice but to leave his lover's side. He slipped a powerful sedative into Daniel's nightly brandy as they sat in the parlor by the fire. Daniel passed out in his chair, and Henry carried him to his bedroom. He undressed him and tucked him beneath the covers, knowing he would not wake til the morning. He kissed the youth's cheek and watched him sleep for a minute. Then he left, more determined than ever to find a way to save him.
It was raining outside and a strong wind blew Henry's cloak around him. He had to hold his hat down atop his head on the way to the carriage. The rain splattered the windows and beat down upon the sides of the carriage as it bore him through the sooty city.
Beyond the streets of London, the carriage stopped before a great old mansion. Henry drew a deep breath and emerged into the bleak night. He was shown in and his hat and cloak were taken by aged servants, austere as they were silent. A stiff-spined butler led him through the candlelit halls of the mansion, until he was shown into a spacious drawing room. Men stood in small groups murmuring to one another, at a table distinguished women were conversing. Henry made his way to the elderly man seated regally in a high-backed chair before the fire, Winslow Octavio Paternoster.
Henry drew a chair up before Paternoster's. The ancient man turned his face in his direction, but his gray eyes seemed to look through him. There was a long silence before he spoke. When he did, it seemed that the fire cooled beneath an arctic wind.
"You have fallen in love with the survivor of Brennenburg."
"Yes."
"Thus, you have given up many chances to glean his knowledge, for the sake of his well-being," Paternoster continued. "You are only harsh with him for his own sake. You pushed him the once, only to draw him back just when he was on the brink of discovering the truth."
"I will not sacrifice him," Henry said. "If I did not know that you would hunt us down wherever we may go, I would take him as far from your reach as possible. I am only here to barter with you because I know that there is nowhere we would be safe."
"Barter? How can you barter with what is not yours?"
"Daniel is mine, and therefore all his knowledge is mine."
"Knowledge belongs to all," Paternoster said. "That is the key foundation of our group."
"This knowledge is held within the mind of a living man, a man that I love, a man that belongs to me," Henry said. "I know that another tenet of the group's ideology is that all sacrifice is righteous in the pursuit of knowledge, but I don't care. No, Mr. Paternoster, I no longer care about the group or its ideology. I wish to make peace with you, but I will not go so far as to hurt Daniel for the group's sake. I cannot."
"I see. It is a pity. You have gained much from our organization."
"That is why I wish to make peace, if you cannot forgive my transgressions and allow me to stay," Henry said. "I would offer you all the knowledge I can safely glean from Daniel. I have nothing more."
"I see."
There was a very long pause.
"No."
The sighing windy voice chilled Henry's blood.
"What do you mean by that?" he asked tensely. "Do you refuse me?"
"I refuse."
"Then—"
"The matter is already settled," Paternoster said. "The boy is no longer under your protection."
"What do you mean?"
Silence.
"Damn you, what do you mean?"
The rest of the room went quiet and turned all its eyes on them. Henry was on his feet before he could think better of it. He grabbed the old man by the front of his jacket and lifted him to his feet. Paternoster's sad gray eyes met his calmly.
"What have you done!"
Henry heard a click next to his head. Two of the aged manservants had aimed pistols at the back of his head and his right temple. Henry released him. Paternoster waved a hand at the servants as if shooing flies. They lowered their weapons.
"I knew that you would come here tonight, and I made suitable arrangements," Paternoster explained. "Daniel has been removed from your home, and will be delivered here shortly. I will do what is necessary to make use of the knowledge of the survivor of Brennenburg and his link to Alexander von Brennenburg."
Henry's face turned an apoplectic shade. His hands shook and then curled into fists. All he could think of was Daniel, sedated and helpless in their bed. Mad, shattered, selfish, sad, beautiful Daniel …
"You had no right," Henry said through clenched teeth. "You had no right to take him from me! If I lose him, I swear, I will kill you, Paternoster!"
"Be calm, Henry, be calm," Paternoster's wispy voice ordered. "You may not lose him yet. You have been a loyal servant to our group, and your talent for dealing with threats to us when matters must be settled less civilly are invaluable. I should not want to lose you, and so I shall make every effort not to lose your lover."
"That isn't good enough!" Henry snapped. "Daniel must survive. He must!"
Silence.
"What do you intend to do to him?" Henry asked. "No, I won't stand idly by while he's tortured by you. If you want me to remain loyal to this group, you must let me oversee this thing. It is the least you can do, after stealing him from me."
"It might be arranged, if you can be civil."
Henry shut his eyes briefly, gathering his fury and locking it away in the back of his mind. It was more difficult than it had been since he was a brutish child. Fortunately, his years of training his mind and his psychiatric training in logic made it possible.
"Yes," he agreed. "I will be civil."
So long as you don't kill him, he added mentally. If I lose him, I will kill you, old man. Make no mistake about that.
Daniel woke from pleasant dreams to darkness. He reached over for Henry, but his arm dangled in mid-air. Confused, he felt the bed around him. This was not Henry's massive bed, but a plain cot. There was one pillow, a blanket, and an iron frame. There was no such bed in Henry's apartment, Daniel knew that for a fact. A cold chill ran down his spine.
Trying not to panic, Daniel felt around with his hands. The wall was made of stone, and when his feet hit the floor, he found it the same. He blinked several times, but the place was pitch black. Carefully, he felt his way along the wall, as he had done so many times in—
Brennenburg. That must be it. I must never have left. It feels like the castle dungeon. It smells like that place: mold and wet stone and human suffering. Oh God. Did I only dream that I returned to London? Was it all just a wishful dream? Was Henry a dream, too?
Daniel ran his hands over his own body. He was dressed in a shirt and breeches, but he had neither stockings nor shoes. He smelled his shirt, but there was no scent that told of his being close to Henry. He tried to find a bruise that would prove their reunion was real, but everyone in Brennenburg was battered at any given time; one wound or another could prove nothing.
"It was all a dream," Daniel muttered to himself as he made his way around the cell. He laughed wildly. "Of course it was. No one escapes Brennenburg. Was I ever even really Daniel? Or did I only imagine that I was one of the torturers? That must be it. Ha ha ha ha! I don't even know who I am! They must have given me that amnesia mixture, that … that … Damascus rose … "
The texture of the wall changed. His hands scraped against wood and metal: a door. He banged on it and kicked it.
"Alexander! Let me out of here!" he shouted. "Torture me! Kill me! I don't care! Just let me out of this darkness! Please! Alexander!"
"I'm here with you, Daniel."
Daniel whipped around with a startled yell. The darkness seemed darker in one place, in the shape of a man, as if a creature made of void were there.
"This is not Brennenburg Castle," Alexander's voice said. "You were not dreaming. You murdered me and returned to London. Then you made the mistake of trusting that man, and now you are here. Did I not warn you, Daniel?"
"No, no, you're wrong!" Daniel shouted. "Henry wouldn't do this! If he is real, if all we went through did happen, then you're wrong! He wouldn't do this to me! He loves me."
"It is irrelevant," Alexander said. "The man wanted something from you. He drugged you last night. You woke up in captivity. Can it be any clearer?"
"No, no, no! No!" Daniel protested, hitting his temples with his hands. "I won't accept that. I won't. I can't."
"You fool," Alexander scoffed. "Now we're both—"
Alexander cut himself off abruptly. Daniel was grateful for the silence. He returned to the cot and sat down on it to think. He tried to remember what had happened, but his mind was a blank. All he recalled was enjoying his nightly brandy in the parlor with Henry. The room had been warm, firelight making the polished wood of the furniture gleam. There had been wind howling and rain pouring outside the windows, but inside all was light and heat. He had been happy. He had actually been happy.
"How did this happen?" Daniel murmured. He hugged himself. "How can this be? Did something happen to Henry? I know he wouldn't let anyone take me. I know he wouldn't. He said that he would never let me go."
"Perhaps he hasn't," Alexander said. "He may be guarding you right this very moment."
"No, that's wrong," Daniel said stubbornly. "You're wrong. He promised that he wouldn't leave my side. He promised that he wouldn't leave me alone. He wouldn't do this to me."
"Oh, Daniel, how can you be so naive after all that you've been through?" Alexander said wearily. "Once again, you trusted a man you admired, put yourself in his care, relied upon him like a helpless child, and were betrayed by him. The same happened with the teacher you admired in childhood, Professor Herbert, myself, and now Henry. Do you enjoy this pattern of yours? Is it a game to you?"
Daniel lay down on the bed, hugging his knees to his chest.
"No, you're wrong, Alexander," he said. "It's different this time. None of the others loved me. Henry loves me. We're lovers. He'll come for me. He will. Then you'll see that he had nothing to do with this. Absolutely nothing at all."
"You truly are a hopeless fool, Daniel."
Daniel shut his eyes tightly, trying not to think. The shock had hit him hard enough to make his mind go to mush, and he was grateful. As he drifted back to sleep, his last thought was a prayer that he would wake in Henry's bed again.
The prayer was not answered.
Untold hours later, Daniel woke again in the pitch black cell. By this time, his stomach was beginning to be gnawed by hunger. Panic seized him then. He curled up as small as possible on the cot, as he had when he was a small boy.
"Alexander? Are you there?" he asked meekly. "Please, talk to me. Anything is better than being alone in the darkness."
Silence.
"Please, please talk to me, Alexander," Daniel whispered. "Please don't leave me here alone. Please, someone … please … "
A light suddenly flashed on the other side of the room. A slot had opened in the bottom of the door. By the time Daniel sat up, it had slammed shut. A faint shimmer remained by the door. Daniel tumbled out of bed and crawled towards it. He reached out, then discerned the source of the glow. With a cry, he recoiled, falling back and pushing himself across the floor. The blue light was emanating from the Orb.
No, it can't be, Daniel thought. I saw it burn up in the ritual. It can't be back!
"It isn't."
Daniel looked around, and saw the outline of Alexander very dimly in the blue light. He stood staring down at the Orb at his feet.
"This is not the same Orb that you discovered in Algeria," Alexander said. "You remember all the research that you did concerning the Orb, didn't you?"
"Ah yes," Daniel said slowly. "That's right. I saw pictures of royalty and religious leaders holding an Orb in various forms, so there must be more. How many are there?"
"Many, Daniel."
"Why is one of them here?" Daniel asked. His curiosity gave way to terror. "Who put it in here? What do they want?"
"I would assume they want you to wield it."
"NO!" Daniel screamed. "No, I won't touch it! The Shadow will come again if I do!"
"Perhaps, perhaps not," Alexander mused. "You are not exactly a novice anymore."
"The Orbs are evil!"
"Any pure force of power can become evil in the hands of the stupid and the corrupt," Alexander said. "You just so happened to be both."
"That's not fair."
"Isn't it?"
Daniel stood up and walked a little closer to the blue light. Despite his terror, his soul was stirred by the Orb's light. Curiosity and yearning made his hands twitch with the urge to touch it. He crossed his arms across his chest and stopped several feet from the light.
"What are they?" he asked Alexander. "I never did find an answer to that question, and you never told me."
"You never asked."
"I was too busy trying to survive the Shadow and learning to torture people," Daniel said dryly. "So tell me now, Alexander. What are the Orbs?"
"Pure creation."
"What."
"Even our kind do not fully understand them," Alexander admitted. "For we have conquered all the aspects of life and death, but there is much about creation itself that eludes us. As far as we can tell, the Orbs are fragments of the power of creation itself; seeds containing fragments of the power to create universes. The entirety of the universe's knowledge is contained within the Orbs, as well as its history, as well as all the potentials for its future."
"I don't understand."
"I did not expect you to," Alexander said flatly. "I have seen in your mind that you once believed in God. A part of you still does. Your idea of God's power will suffice as an adequate metaphor, if trite."
"That's the power of the Orbs?" Daniel asked. "But God is good. Creation is good. Why do the Orbs cause so much evil?"
"They cause nothing, Daniel, pay attention to what I'm saying," Alexander said sternly. "They contain the pinnacle of knowledge and power in all of creation, because they contain the power of creation itself. That is all. When they are touched, the wielder becomes a conduit to that power. Naturally, the power takes the form of what the wielder believes power is."
"But the Shadow—"
"I was getting to that," Alexander interrupted. "The Shadow is a sort of guardian. It keeps the balance of creation intact. A wielder's mind must be very strong to avoid the Shadows of the Orbs: they must have a strong will to keep from fearing it, because it grows stronger the more it is feared. Unfortunately, your mind is weak, and your will is weaker. You never felt good enough to hold the power of the Orb, and when the Shadow came, you lost yourself to your self-doubts and fear of the Shadow."
"Is that why the Shadow yielded after the first ritual?"
"Exactly," Alexander said. "You drew strength from my strength, and strengthened your will with your desire to survive. Had you been able to maintain that strength, we may have had more time, and I may have been able to use the Orb to return home without leaving you at the mercy of the Shadow."
"But you betrayed me."
"I had no other choice," Alexander said. "Your strength fractured into madness, and the Shadow grew stronger than ever. Your personal shadow fed it, and combined the darkness toppled Brennenburg. I thought you already lost, so I decided to do what I could to escape it all. You know how that feels, don't you?"
I can't deny that, Daniel thought.
"No, you can't," Alexander agreed. "In any case, now you know the truth of the Orbs. I am aware of the risk, given the fact that you're still a weak-willed child, but I do not see any other way. Muster all the strength that you can, think only of survival, and take that Orb."
"No, I can't, I'm still too weak," Daniel said. "Besides, I don't want to be powerful. I hate who I become when I have power. I'd rather die than be that man again!"
"If your will is strong enough, you will be able to wield the Orb's power without hurting others," Alexander said. "The torture was for the sake of collecting Vitae. That isn't needed now. All you have to do is reach out to the Orb's power and resist your fears. I don't know what those who set this up want from you, but you should be able to manage the Orb enough to get out of here. We will take it from there."
"I'd rather die than put myself at the mercy of another Orb," Daniel said stubbornly. He returned to the cot and lay down, back to the blue light. "I won't do it. I won't."
"Daniel, you must! We cannot remain trapped down here! Daniel, did you hear what I said? Daniel!"
Daniel screwed his eyes shut and buried his head in the pillow. The darkness erased his sense of time, minutes or hours or days could be passing for all he knew. His stomach twisted with hunger. His mind whirled through all his deepest fears and the most vile possibilities. He passed in and out of consciousness many times. Alexander prevailed upon him to take the Orb, but even his voice grew faint eventually. Daniel's body weakened, and his mind failed. Before long, he could not have moved from the cot if he wanted to.
"Daniel, I've tried to be reasonable with you, but this has gone too far," Alexander announced at some point in time. "You are starving, dehydrated, and will be delirious soon. If you don't do something, you'll be too weak to make it across the room. Come here and take the Orb this instant."
Daniel rolled over and stared blankly at Alexander's dim outline. His mouth was slack, his eyes uncomprehending. Alexander came closer and knelt to bring their faces level. He reached towards Daniel, but his hand passed through the young man.
"Daniel, please, listen to me," Alexander appealed to him. "You can't die here. You're twenty-four years old. Do you know what that is to me? It's less than the blink of an eye by my standards. Think of all you did to survive Brennenburg. How can you lay down and die so easily after you went through so much to live?"
Daniel shook his head vaguely. He licked his lips, but there was no spit on his tongue to moisten them. He was numb to Alexander's words, numb to everything but the constant throb of hunger.
"I'm sorry, Daniel," Alexander sighed. He stood up and stepped back a few paces. "I hate to do this to you, but you must wake from this daze. You must survive this. If you do not take the Orb, I will hurt you, Daniel."
"Not—here," Daniel rasped. "Can't—hurt me. Not really here."
"My mind is. That is all I need. But speaking is useless at this point. Here is a demonstration."
Daniel blinked, and then he was ripped out of his body. The disorientation was a relief for just a moment, then the pain set in. Suddenly he was in the bodies of the people he had tortured at Brennenburg, feeling every lash, breakage, and burn they had suffered. Flesh was seared by hot metal, his back was split by leather, his bones snapped like twigs. Daniel's body arched dangerously on the bed and a broken scream escaped his raw throat.
Daniel's scream echoed throughout the dungeon far below the manor. Paternoster, Beechworth, and Henry Bedloe were gathered around a tall basin of water. In the pool, a reflection showed Daniel in his cell, clear as day despite the cell's darkness. They had been watching Daniel for days now, Henry growing more desperate by the hour.
"That is enough!" Henry growled at Paternoster. "You'll gain nothing from him if that goddamned Alexander thing kills him!"
"He will not kill him," Paternoster's reedy voice assured him. "If the Brennenburg survivor dies, so does the being that called itself 'Alexander von Brennenburg'. He is probably fighting to save Daniel right now."
"He's fighting to save himself," Henry said. "This is madness! You'll kill him!"
"Be patient."
Henry gritted his teeth and stalked away from the basin. The men were alone: the servants were not allowed down here, only members of the group. He turned to stare at Paternoster's back. To all appearances, he was only a willowy old man, but Henry knew how powerful he was. If he laid hands on him, he would probably be killed.
It would be absurd to risk my life for Daniel, Henry told himself. I've known him less than two months as a man, and he was the bane of my existence as a boy. What is he, anyway? The boy who got away? Well, I've had him now. My fixation has been satisfied. He can go back to being a part of my past. I have a fine future ahead of myself, with or without that brat.
Henry thought all of this within the space of a heartbeat. Then he rushed up to Paternoster, put a massive arm around his neck, and held a revolver to his side. The old man raised his eyebrows, then his face settled back into its usual unaffected calm.
"Henry, what the bloody hell are you doing?" Beechworth exclaimed.
"Stay out of this, it doesn't concern you," Henry told him. To Paternoster, he said, "I am going down there and I am going to retrieve Daniel. You can try to kill us, but if you do, I'll take as many as I can shoot with me, including you."
"Such passion," Paternoster remarked. "You will regret it if you ruin this, Henry. Remember, all the gifts that you have received from the group can be taken away."
"I know that."
Henry snatched the keys to the manor from Paternoster's jacket pocket. He released him, backing away with the revolver trained on the elder man. He locked Beechworth and Paternoster in the room, and then ran for the basement cells.
Daniel fell off the cot while he was twisting in agony. He was on hand and knee on the stone floor, panting hard, sweat leaking the last of his body's moisture. Alexander was pacing around in front of him furiously.
"Why must you be so stubborn?" he asked. "Are you that much of a coward? Have you finally decided to die? Well, I haven't! Get up, Daniel! Get up, or I'll do it again!"
"N … o … No … nnnuh … "
The memories tore through him once more. His scream was weak, jagged. His body was unscathed, but in his mind he had been broken countless times. His body jerked in remembered pain, telepathically inflicted upon him by Alexander.
"Please, no," he rasped. "Alexander, please … no … more … "
"Then take the orb, Daniel," Alexander demanded. "Go to it now! Go!"
Daniel crawled towards the blue light mechanically. His mind was dumb with pain. He thought of the worlds he had seen through the Orb, and longed for them. Let Alexander take charge of him, then. Henry had failed him, so he may as well let Alexander in. He thought of his nights in the guest room of Brennenburg Castle, Alexander once waking him from a nightmare and promising to protect him. Alexander had forgiven him. He would keep him safe. All he had to do was let him in—
By the time Henry reached the door to Daniel's cell, Paternoster and Beechworth had caught up to him. He aimed the revolver at them, but neither moved to overtake him. Henry fumbled with the keys, trying to unlock the cell door.
"Have a care," Paternoster warned. "It is not only your beloved Daniel in there."
"Damn Alexander, and damn you."
Paternoster nodded cordially. One of the keys clicked in the cell door lock and Henry turned it frantically. The heavy door creaked on its iron hinges, light flooding the cell. Henry stopped short in the doorway, frozen by the sight of Daniel.
All traces of suffering were gone from Daniel's face. He stood erect and smirking, the Orb in one hand. His hair had gone stark white.
"So it was you," he said when he saw Henry. "Well, I told that fool as much."
Upon hearing the deep, snide voice, Henry realized the truth. Daniel's body had been overtaken by Alexander von Brennenburg. Henry reached for the revolver, then his hand dropped. If he shot at Alexander, his lover's body would take the bullet. For the first time in his life, Henry backed away from his enemy.
"So, you lured Daniel in to take him off-guard," Alexander said, moving Daniel's body out of the cell. "You must have known that we were linked, but what did you intend to do, exactly? Lure me out with the Orb? Do you know who I am?"
Paternoster put a hand on Henry's shoulder and guided him to the side. He stood before Henry and Beechworth, hand resting on the stone head of his walking stick. A light was gathering in the milky round crystalline stone, and in Paternoster's gray eyes. Henry felt the hair on the back of his neck standing up and he smelled ozone, as if a storm was coming.
"Yes," Paternoster said. "I know exactly who you are, 'Alexander von Brennenburg'."
Alexander lifted his (Daniel's) head and met Paternoster's gaze coolly. There was a very long silence, but Henry had the suspicion that the two sorcerers were communicating. The light in the walking stick's stone and the Orb flickered and pulsated at pointed intervals.
"No," Alexander breathed. He took a step back. "It can't be. You?"
Paternoster bowed formally. Rage lit Alexander's face, but it was mingled with fear. He lifted the Orb, and reality seemed to fray around the edges. Henry's vision of the room warped, and he heard strange sounds thickening the air.
"So this was your plan all along," Alexander murmured. He lowered the Orb, and its light went out. He smiled an uncharacteristically chagrined smile. "I have to admit, I never expected that you were the one orchestrating all this. Of course, you do realize that I could take the boy with me—or leave him destroyed?"
"I knew the risk."
Paternoster waved a hand at Beechworth. Beechworth put down the bag he had been carrying and opened it. He removed a metallic canister and handed it to Paternoster.
"He's had enough," Henry intervened. "Please. Just let him alone. You've done enough to him."
"So, Daniel was right, you do love him," Alexander said.
"Yes, I do," Henry said. "Please don't hurt him anymore. Just give him back to me."
Alexander actually seemed to sympathize with him. He turned back to Paternoster and looked at the Memory Capsule in his hand. He snorted in amusement.
"You primitives hardly comprehend the meaning of what it is to love," Alexander said. "Yet even you … Fine. I bear Daniel no ill will, and he is of no use to me now. I will leave him to you—what's left of him."
"Thank you." Henry exhaled in relief. "Thank you."
"But you," Alexander said to Paternoster. He twisted Daniel's features into a wolfish sneer. "Make no mistake, I will kill you. You will rue this day. You have been very cautious these past centuries, but now you've made an enemy of the wrong man. I will be the one that finally puts you to rest."
"You are welcome to try. Now, shall we get this unpleasantness over with?"
Paternoster raised a hand and the Orb flew from Alexander's hand into his own. The Memory Capsule and the Orb exploded into a brilliant illumination. Henry had to shut his eyes to protect them from the whiteness. When he opened them again, Daniel was standing stock still, his face a mask of agony. His eyes rolled back, and Henry just managed to catch him before he fell.
"That went far more smoothly than I expected," Paternoster said.
"Do not speak another word to me, or I will shoot you," Henry grumbled. "He's of no use to you any longer. I'm taking him home."
"Of course."
Henry picked Daniel up in his arms and left. It does not matter what's left of him. I'll fix him. No matter what it takes, I will fix him. I'll put his mind back together and make him forgive me. Then, he'll truly, finally be mine.
