Chapter Thirty-Two: Heart
When once again I am loosed free
I in the darkness finally see
The sun rose very sluggishly the next morning. It shed light on the verdant fields, a rushing brook or two, standalone trees. It shed light on a small group of houses somewhere off in the distance, which marked the only village for miles, on mountainous crags rearing up abruptly, and on three horsed figures galloping madly over the rocky ground.
Gradually in front of them appeared the silhouette of a castle stronghold, situated on ground that, disturbingly, didn't seem to go on very far.
"That's the cliff," Tamerlaine shouted over the roar of the wind. "We're approaching from the left side— the front entrance is to our right, and the garden wall straight ahead."
"We make for the wall," Van Helsing called back. "That should provide cover enough."
"Van Helsing!" hollered Carl.
"What?"
"Can we get off the horses now?"
"What? I didn't hear you!"
"I said, can we get off the bloody horses— now!"
Van Helsing shook his head. "I still can't get what you're saying," he yelled. "Hang on a minute, we've got to get off the horses now!"
They slowed, the wind slowed, and was replaced momentarily by an exasperated yet relieved sigh from Carl.
The wall lay some yards ahead, the hulking side of the stone manor just beyond it. There was no door visible, but a smallish window, and once they clambered over the wall, Van Helsing headed for it.
"Tamerlaine," he said breathlessly, crouching beside it, " it may not be a good idea for you to—"
"Don't say it," said Tamerlaine, shaking a fierce finger at him. "Don't even. I'm not going to turn back now, after coming this far. I don't care what you say, I'm coming in with you."
Van Helsing stared at her. "Of course you're coming in with me," he said. "I was just wondering if you could do something about your skirts."
Tamerlaine looked down at herself and said a bad word. "I should have borrowed trousers from you."
"Carl split my extra pair, anyway."
"Not like I had a choice!"
"Can I see your knife, Van Helsing?" He handed it over. Without hesitation, Tamerlaine slit the front and back of her skirts and tied them around her legs, creating makeshift and somewhat piratical trousers. She handed the knife back to Van Helsing with a quick thank your and turned expectantly to the window.
"I should go in first. I'm reasonably certain they won't hurt me." She looked at Carl. "Any protests?"
"After the business with the knife, I am not about to complain," said Carl, holding up his hands. She smiled at him, pulled him towards her and kissed him. By the time she let go Van Helsing had the window open.
"Here I go," she said quietly, and with a quick assist from Van Helsing she made it up and over the windowsill.
Carl and Van Helsing allowed her a few moments to scout the room, and then began to climb in at the window as well. Carl was halfway in when he heard her scream. He gave an exclamation of surprise himself and fell the rest of the way in. Van Helsing was beside him in a moment and whispering furiously in his ear.
"Where did it come from?"
"Through that door," Carl faltered, pointing. Van Helsing rushed for it, moving quickly and quietly, and Carl followed.
They opened the door, and found themselves in a dim hallway. Faces stared at them from the oil paintings that lined the walls, and there was a musty smell in the air. Carl found it quite easy to believe that murder had been done here. He tore his mind away from such morbid thoughts and concentrated on being silent.
Van Helsing, alert, crouched, tense, let him down the hallway and through a door. The room they entered was very small and contained a table, ac hair, and a narrow stairwell.
Van Helsing breathed the air in deeply.
"This house is built into a slope," he said, very quietly. "We are in the basement. We have to go up to go out."
Carl did not like the look of the stairs at all— they looked rotted, the wood dank and ancient. But neither did he want to stay where he was. He moved forward and gulped.
"I am smaller than you," he said. "I'll go first and see if they hold my weight."
Very slowly, he put a foot on the first step. It creaked, and he looked back at Van Helsing, who nodded encouragingly.
Another step.
Creak.
Another scream from above.
Something in Carl snapped and he raced up the remainder of the steps, heedless of the danger, concentrating only on reaching Tamerlaine. As he achieved the top step he spared a second to glance down triumphantly, just in time to see the steps collapse in on themselves with a very loud noise and a very big cloud of dust.
He stared with horrified eyes at Van Helsing, who looked up from his perch on the table and said, "Go. Go, Carl. I'll find another way."
"Right," said Carl, and ran for it.
Out the door, down a hall, through another door, up two steps, into another corridor— his mind had taken flight along with his body, and ever afterwards he remained convinced that it was his heart that led him to the room wherein stood Tamerlaine, backing slowly away from Simon.
Simon looked up as Carl entered, and beckoned him on with the pistol.
"I bid you welcome," he said cheerfully. "I knew when my wife showed up that you wouldn't be far behind."
Carl gasped for breath, completely at a loss. Somewhere behind him there was a violent boom, and a shockwave rocked the three of them. Simon retained the gun, smiling easily.
"Our dear Uncle Edward is testing your little machine," he told Carl. "Its been rather amusing. He's demolished three buildings and an outhouse so far. He's quite taken with it."
"Simon," said Tamerlaine, and moved forward. He waved the pistol at her.
"I wouldn't try that on with me. Its been a long time since you last pretended to be in love with me. I imagine you'd be out of practice."
"I wasn't pretending," Tamerlaine protested, moving forward another step.
"Oh no? Well, you were certainly fast enough to attach yourself to the friar, here."
"Carl is a childhood friend," she explained, edging forward some more. "We have a very strong bond."
"You are in love with him now."
"I was never out of love with him. He was my first friend and I cannot abandon him."
"You would choose him over me," said Simon, and closed his eyes.
Several things happened at once.
Another shockwave moved through the room, throwing them off balance. Tamerlaine leapt for the gun and Simon slapped her with it, hitting her across the face. The force of the blow knocked her backwards into Carl's arms and they both went down, blood and tears mingling on Tamerlaine's face.
Carl let go of her and rolled away, his heart pounding, anger pulsing through him. He saw that Tamerlaine had fallen in the corner, out of harm's way. He pushed himself to his knees and looked up into the cold, expressionless face of Simon.
Simon leveled the pistol at him. "I warned you never to touch her," he said, his voice as smooth and blank as his face.
He pulled the trigger.