A/N:
Nocturnally Damned Your wish is my command. Here is Chapter 9, as requested. Thanks to all those who reviewed chpt 8, will get round to doing proper responses when I get a few more reviews * Hint, Hint* ;)
9 Voices in the dark
Kain is in the conference room, with the remaining five brothers. He is seated at the huge round table, Raziel at his right hand, Turel on his left with Melchiah. They are conferring earnestly about some matter and none of them seems to notice the arrival of Dumah and Jas. Rahab is standing directly behind Kain, half in the shadows, his face hidden, and Zephon was, apparently, just about to leave. He stands aside from the door as they enter, his sharp eyes examining them both keenly. His inspection finished, he breaks into a grin, which he directs first at Dumah and then to the others. He begins a slow handclap as Dumah walks up to the table.
"Well done brother," he purrs, a slight edge of sarcasm to his voice. "Well done. Who'd have thought that you would be the one to win our little wager and so soon too."
Raziel directs a puzzled and slightly annoyed look at him. Kain and Melchiah look up.
"Observe," Zephon says, pointing to Jas, "she wears his brooch. Dumah has succeeded in being the first to put a lasting mark on our guest, one that we can all see. And, furthermore, he has managed it without disobeying the Master's order that she shouldn't be harmed. The wager won, and no unpleasant consequences to face later." He makes an extravagant bow to Dumah. "Once more, I salute you brother. That was most cunningly done. You must tell us, later, how it was that you persuaded her. I'm sure we'd all love to hear the details." He licks his lips, giving Jas a look that is crudely suggestive. She turns round to Dumah, her brows slightly raised in question.
"I trust, my Lord, that your winnings are substantial."
"Nothing I don't already have." He replies tautly.
He looks towards Zephon, who continues to smile, somewhat maliciously now, as he tries to ascertain the effects of his revelation.
"Well," she says, giving Dumah a small, mocking bow of her own, "if I haven't increased your wealth, I trust I've managed to relieve the tedium of your existence, for the moment, at least." She steps away from him, walking around the table until she can stand with her back against the wall, the torn leather of her bodice held by the masonry. "Either way," she continues, unpinning the brooch from her shoulder, "this has served its purpose. So, you might as well have it back."
She flicks the brooch across the room to him, arcing it high into the air between them. It spins as it falls, reflecting the light from the lanterns at each turn, before he catches it and silently returns her bow. Then, he turns to Kain.
"Are we dismissed my Lord?"
"Yes, yes. Go, all of you. Our business here is concluded for this evening."
*
She watches them depart and only turns her attention to Kain when the door is closed. He is regarding her closely, but if he notices her torn clothing, he doesn't mention it.
"So, Dumah found you, at last."
She nods, but doesn't elaborate.
"Well now you are here," getting up and walking to the door, "I think it best we make a start." He opens the door for her and ushers her through. "We will go to my quarters," he says, taking her arm. "We will not be disturbed there."
His rooms are on the upper levels. They climb two flights of stairs, which lead to a wide hallway, one entire side of which is decorated with large stained glass windows. Most of the windows depict Kain himself, usually in combat, triumphing over various foes. Of course, Jas realizes, as she walks down its length, daylight has long since ceased to bother Nosgoth's ruler or his lieutenants. The hall ends at a pair of golden doors, richly embossed with swirling spiral patterns and of huge proportion; these doors are flanked by two massive statues of Kain, at least twice her height, carved from dark green marble.
How very modest! She thinks, looking up at them.
The doors swing open as they approach, apparently of their own accord and start to close again as soon as they are in the room, finally shutting behind them with a soft thud. She notices that there is no obvious way of opening them from either side.
They are now in a large reception room, sumptuously decorated. The floors are black marble, polished to a high gloss, the centre inlaid with a circular pattern formed from Kain's own emblem, worked in gold. Tiles of the same green marble as the two statues outside, line the walls to waist height, and pillars of this marble also support a massive arched window, which stands open to the night, at the end of the room. This window is also stained glass, though Jas cannot see what it depicts. An enormous fireplace dominates one wall, flanked by two couches. The fire burns brightly, though there is no need for it. Scarlet banners, woven with Kain's emblem, hang from the vaulted ceiling, and most of the furniture is also draped with scarlet cloth. The chairs and tables, of which there are many, appear to be made from ebony, each piece inlaid with gold. Although she finds the room impressive, it does not strike Jas as being particularly comfortable.
A small side-door is open to her right, and she gets a glimpse into the chamber beyond, before Kain walks past and the door mysteriously closes. It is a large room, but much more simply furnished than the room they are in, almost Spartan by comparison; a table, on which stands the box of chess pieces and a neat stack of books, a single chair and a plain couch being the only furniture. Her discovery, that Nosgoth's ruler should choose to live so simply, despite the wealth and luxury surrounding him, increases her liking for him somewhat.
Kain pulls out a chair for her at one of the tables by the window and takes a seat opposite.
"I trust this is comfortable enough for you," he says. "We can go elsewhere if you would prefer."
"What I'd prefer, is to get this over, as quickly as possible," she replies.
"Of course."
She sits down and takes out the orb, placing it on the table between them.
"So, how do we proceed?" She asks him.
"An interesting question, this isn't a gift that usually requires consent from the other party, if you take my meaning." He takes her hand. "Are you ready?"
Not at all and as much as I'll ever be.
'Well, that will have to do then'.
A moment's indignation that he has intruded thus far, reading her thoughts, followed by the realization that this is probably the best way. She can feel his presence now, a building pressure inside her head.
'Just let go, don't try to fight it. I'll make this as painless as I can, I promise.'
But it is the pain that she has to surrender to, and when she finally looses control, the pain is all that remains, an anchor to the physical world that feels as if it has been driven straight through her mind.
Time passes, an eternity, or no time at all, and she finds that she is now back in the room but high up, as if she is floating near the ceiling and looking down on him, on herself and the tiny figures that flicker and die in the heart of the orb.
As he finishes asking what he would know, the pain rises to claim her once more and finally to bring her back to herself.
*
She is looking down on him again, which can't be right.
Is she still on the ceiling?
He is looking up at her and saying something, though she can't make out what it is. She can feel her brow furrow as she tries to understand what it is that he is saying, but somehow it doesn't seem to be her brow at all. She can see her hands, folded together in her lap, and they don't seem to be hers either, she watches as he takes one of them and she manages, eventually, to move a finger against his palm. He looks…relieved.
'Are you alright?'
She closes her eyes, trying to find words to answer him with, trying to frame a sentence.
'Time, give me… time. I think so.' The pain is agonising now, a sword, white-hot, driven from the base of her skull, straight through her forehead.
He strokes her brow, and she winces, shying away from the contact.
"Does it hurt?"
She nods without thinking and the sword drives in deeper, sending sparks of fire across her vision. He raises his hand once more and touches her forehead lightly. The pain lifts instantly, and the disorientation lessens. He is kneeling in front of her, she realizes, that is why she is looking down on him. She closes her eyes again, too tired suddenly, to even think, far too tired to talk, too tired to do anything. Kain rises and carefully picks her up, carrying her to one of the couches by the fire; he lays her down, and then sits beside her, his face still concerned. She would like to reassure him, to tell him that she is simply weak, not injured, but it requires too much effort.
"You should rest now," he says. "I'll send someone to attend to you later and I will speak with you again tomorrow evening. Is there anything that you need before I leave you?"
She shakes her head, feebly. Her eyes are beginning to close of their own accord, another minute and sleep takes her. Kain watches her for a little while longer and then gets up, turns down the lamps and leaves the room.
*
She does not recognise the voice that rouses her from her slumber, a deep, sonorous voice that seems to come from all around her, reverberating as it rolls around the empty room.
"The time is at hand! Warn him! WARN HIM!"
She sits up on the couch, shaking from the shock of this sudden awakening.
Warn who? She wonders irritably, still half-asleep. There is a glow of violet light emanating from the place where she was sitting with Kain earlier. She looks over to see the orb rising up from the table; it is filled with stars. As she watches, they start spinning faster and faster, until it appears like quicksilver within. With a growing sense of horror, she watches as it hovers steadily above the table, and the silvered interior begins to writhe like something trapped. The violet glow intensifies now, it is taking form, human or vampire, she cannot be sure at first. Slowly the features emerge. Moebius! Standing behind the table, with a strange staff in his hand that seems to be the source of the peculiar violet light. He is looking directly at her. As she watches, he puts out his free hand and the orb drops into his palm.
"I suppose I should thank you," he says to her. "Despite your reluctance, you have served my purposes admirably. Now all that remains for you to do, is to secure your own future." He walks around the table and towards her, concealing the orb in his robes as he does so.
Repulsive snake that he is! He's not even afraid!
He seems to have read her thoughts, for he smirks unpleasantly as he approaches.
"Are you planning to attack me?" He asks. "Try it, if you will, but take warning, my staff disables all vampiric powers. I have little cause to fear you at this moment, but you… Well, let's just say you would do well to show an old man a little respect." He is standing in front of her now, far too close for comfort. "Who would have thought it possible," he continues, his voice almost gloating as he looks down at her. "A vampire, born to serve human interests, brought into existence by the Sarafan themselves! You must admit, it is a deliciously ironic concept." He gives her a pitying smile, "But what twisted mind decided to experiment on such damaged goods as you?" He asks. "No wonder they thought their quest a failure, to turn a corpse from their dungeons into one of the undead!"
Jas looks up at him, coldly furious, but impotent. She knows he does not lie about the power of the staff he carries; she can feel what little energy she has slowly draining away as he speaks, but as to what he has just told her, it is ridiculous.
He looks at her a moment longer and laughs, a dry humourless sound, like dead leaves rustling against stone. "You don't believe me, do you? Or rather, you don't want to believe me! I suppose you were hoping for a somewhat nobler heritage, a sire you could name, not some grubby necromancer working with the leftovers from the Sarafan interrogations." He laughs again, his voice becoming more strident as he continues. "Romantic delusions! You are child of the Sarafan. The very creatures you hate so much, were the ones that gave you your birth! The facts cannot be denied. You woke in the Sarafan Stronghold, did you not? In the carrion pit! How many other vampires do you think have been sired in such salubrious surroundings?"
He pauses to let this speech sink in, the reptilian smile broadening as he sees her beginning to take his words more seriously. Then he reaches out and puts a paternal hand on her shoulder, timed to perfection, she cannot retaliate, much as she would like to. He leans down, close to her face, his voice sinking to a whisper, "But you see? My dear Lady Jaslinde, it doesn't matter. No one has to know. I won't tell, that's for sure. It can be our…little secret. As I said earlier, what you have to do, is to secure your future. Forget the past! You know now, what Kain is planning. He is the peril in your path! The canker in the heart of this dying land. He destroys everything he touches and he will continue, unless you stop him. Go to Raziel, now! Go to the others! Show his children the glorious future Kain has planned for them. Overthrow this despot's ignominious reign before it is too late."
He starts to fade as he makes this speech, growing transparent and faint until she can no longer see him, but his voice remains.
"WARN THEM, NOW! OR YOU LOSE EVERYTHING!"
She wakes again, much later, or was she even awake the last time?
Is it really possible that Moebius was here, in Kain's own quarters? Surely not.
All is quiet in the room now, the fire has burnt down to a few glowing embers, everything else is as it should be, as if nothing untoward could possibly have happened. Yet, when she looks over to the table the orb is gone. She looks down, her eyes drawn for some reason to the place where Moebius was last standing and there it is, darker than the darkest shadows, on the floor in front of her.
*
She feels suddenly sick. He told her to show them. Raziel, the others, he wants her to show them the future, and he has left her the orb. He is not finished with her yet. Her hand is drawn down to it, despite her undeniable dread of what will happen when she touches it, but it remains inert and even this, is somehow disturbing. She gets up and replaces it on the table, trying hard not to look at it. It no longer seems neutral, a thing with no will of its own. Sitting on the table, dark and silent, it looks like an eye, a black, malevolent eye. Watching her.
Without consciously thinking about it, Jas makes her decision; she has to see Kain, urgently. She considers where he might be. She goes to the door that leads to his private chambers and knocks tentatively. No answer. She approaches the golden doors, wondering if she will be able to open them. Disconcertingly, they swing open, just before her fingers can make contact with their surface. The hallway is dark enough for her to venture into, the windows letting in barely any light at all, despite the hour. She arrives at the top of the stairs and looks down. There is a pale figure below, Rahab, on guard duty. Is he there to keep her safe, she wonders or is he to act as her jailor? He looks up as he hears her footsteps.
"Rahab!" She calls. "I need to see Kain. Right away." He looks at her in mild surprise. "Please," she says. "Something has happened. I must speak with him."
He comes up the stairs to meet her.
"Not possible, I'm afraid. He isn't in the Sanctuary." He looks at her, his face concerned. "What's happened? Are you hurt?"
She shakes her head. "I'm not hurt. As to what happened…I'm sorry, but it's not something you can help me with. Kain will know what to do…I hope."
"As soon as I can contact him, I will." He says, "but it could be tomorrow evening. That's when he's expected to return." He looks into her eyes, searching her face for some indication of what it is that has caused her so much distress. "Would you like me to go back with you?" He asks.
She forces herself to smile. "No, thank you. I appreciate your kindness, really I do, but that won't be necessary."
She returns to her makeshift bed, but sleep does not come to her straight away. So much has happened in this one night. The visions she had seen in the orb prey upon her mind most of all, now she knows what Kain is planning to do and the consequences, which are almost too horrific to contemplate. Nosgoth will be torn apart if he continues on this course. She gets up and goes over to the table with the orb; she has a question of her own to ask of it. The answer it gives, does not comfort her at all.
As to what Moebius has told her of her own origins, it sounds horribly plausible, but considering where the information came from, she decides to suspend her belief, at least until there is further proof.
Her dreams that day are almost as disturbing as the events that preceded them.