Chapter 9
A/N: I still don't own Koudelka or Shadow Hearts; don't even own the copy of the script: that is courtesy of darkannex – I just borrowed it. This chapter is Rated R for language, violence and SEXUAL situations and if you don't like that kind of thing, please hit the back arrow.
Yuri got to the bottom of the stairs and paused at the bloody pool and mangled creature that he had sent falling to its doom. With one toe of his boot he nudged it, never saying a word, and then went on to the printing press room. James paused to make a sign over the mangled baby body then followed, ready to give Yuri a piece of his mind or an exorcism. Neither was needed.
Yuri had paused when he entered the pressroom, looking around, and then quickly checked the exit to the church; he was returning when James came in and he shrugged with an off-handed gesture.
"She's not here yet. Where can she be?" he asked and paced back and forth in the room.
James moved back, setting his pack on the broken printing press and composing himself.
"Where is she?"
"Koudelka will be here Yuri," James said, his voice soft and careful, as if speaking to a child. "Why don't you sit down … or better yet, go wash up."
"I don't want to," Yuri said with a frown. "I want to wait for Koudelka. I want to know she's all right; she has to be. I promised… I promised!"
Yuri's pacing brought him back to the other broken printing press and, in frustration he kicked it, sending broken bits of wood flying. That just made him angrier and he gave it a good roundhouse kick that broke one leg and sent it crashing to the floor.
"Feel better now?" James asked.
Yuri rounded on the priest, his fist raised, then stopped, shaking his head.
"No – no, not really," Yuri said and sheepishly shook his head. "I've been bad, huh?"
James raised and eyebrow and surveyed the damage. "The machine was already broken. But I am worried about you, Yuri. You've been acting …"
"Crazy. Yeah, I get that. It's just I'm concerned. I promised to protect her and here she is away from us, alone – facing who knows what kinda shit. I shouldn'ta let her go. If I'd been there she wouldn'ta died," he finished, chewing his lower lip.
James turning toward the Archives paused. "Who died?" he asked.
"The voice told me to go, to catch the train, only I didn't have any money and I had a headache and I really didn't want to…" he looked up at James. "What?"
"You were telling me about someone you lost on a train?" James prompted.
Yuri thought a minute. A train, he mused. I haven't been on a train in years. What's he on about? "I don't remember anybody on a train. You sure yer not imagining it?"
James sighed. "No. I think I'm going to go pray for a while at the holy font. Rest why don't you?" And he passed through the door to the Archives. Yuri frowned, screwing up his lips and nose into a god-awful mask before huffing a breathy chuckle.
"Look at me," he said to himself, then left the printing room, wandering back up the stairs to the second floor, ignoring the black stain on the carpet. He did not meet any resistance, and made his quiet way back around to the entrance and then left to the small room. He recalled Koudelka finding knickknacks inside and wondered if there would be any more. He'd like to give her something special when she returned.
However, after a thorough search of the room he still came up empty handed. The only thing not opened and searched was the small safe with the Greek letters. Koudelka had said she might figure out the puzzle later, but he wanted to open it now. Eyeing the locking mechanism, he fiddled with several of the Greek letters, shuffling them back and forth but nothing happened. He then pulled his much-used dagger and put the point into the lock, pushing it gently this way and that, feeling the tumblers; but they did not move. Finally, he jammed the knife into the slim space between the safe door and its wall and pushed, moving the blade in to the hilt, and then twisting carefully. The dagger started to bend with the strain and Yuri grit his teeth, trying all the harder not to break the knife while at the same time trying to force the lock. But, with a sudden jerk, the dagger snapped at the hilt, leaving Yuri leaning on the safe.
"God damn it all to hell," he growled and pulling back his fist, let fly with a hard punch that did two things, bent the locking mechanism so he could pry it open, and broke his knuckles and several fingers on his right hand.
"Ah fuck, fuck, fuck," he muttered, shaking the injured hand and mentally kicking himself for being stupid. But none-the-less he opened the safe and looked inside.
"Hmph, hardly worth the effort," he said and pulled out an ornate box; inside was a small flower bud that instantly turned to dust and below was a small packet of letters, bundled with a red ribbon, the once crisp white paper faded to cream. Yuri looked at the name on the envelopes but could not make it out, the handwriting was very fancy and he frowned, wishing his ability to read English was better. He stuffed the small packet into his rear pants pocket and slammed shut the safe door. And looking at his damaged hand he sighed. 'Better go see James.'
"How did you do this again?" James asked as he set the bones of Yuri's fingers as best he could. They had placed the injured hand in the font, letting the holy healing waters do as much repair as possible, but the bones and knuckles still needed work and James would have to use a healing spell on them. Queried on how he had done the damage, Yuri had grinned sheepishly and replied with less than the truth. And James had caught him.
"I – well, see, I ran into a monster and well, I managed to avoid a fight but," he was grinning too largely for James to believe him, "the monster had really, really big teeth and it bit me."
James shook his head and refused to heal him.
"But James, I really, really hurt," Yuri said, "an' – an' I can't do magic."
"So tell me the truth."
With a sigh, the fusionist admitted to safe breaking. "I wanted to see if there was anything inside that Koudelka might like; it was a safe after all."
"Not much of a thief, are you?" James' smirk was bright and cheerful and he was enjoying Yuri's pain, for which he promised a Pater Noster afterwards.
"I'm okay stealing, I'm just a lousy safe cracker," Yuri answered.
"All right, all right; here, let me see what I can do for you," James finally agreed to heal him and tsked the entire time about Yuri's recklessness. Finally, he was ready for the healing spell and Yuri waited with bated breath, always nervous when anyone not Light Class did a healing spell: the cure was often as bad as the hurt. But James was sufficient in his healing and Yuri quietly sighed. 'He must be light class. I should ask him,' a thought which promptly slipped from his mind when James put away his healing medicines and knelt at the font in front of the statue of the Madonna and Child.
Yuri moved back, watching the priest as he crossed himself and composed himself for prayer. It was much as he'd seen before both with James and others, and he was about to leave the man to his prayers when James' soft lilting voice caught his attention. The words were strange, almost lilting, and Yuri felt a little peace within him at the words.
"Pater noster qui es in caelis: sanctificetur nomen tuum. Adveniat regnum tuum. Fiat voluntas tua," he was saying quietly, and Yuri could hear the fervent belief and hope behind his words. He returned quietly to the fountain and knelt beside the priest, listening.
"Sicut in caelo et in terra. Panem nostrum quotidianum da nobis hodie. Et dimitte nobis debita nostra."
"James, what are those words yer sayin'?" Yuri asked, interrupting the priest's prayer.
"Sicut et nos dimittimus," James paused and sighed. "It's the Pater Noster, Yuri; the Lord's Prayer."
"How does it go?"
James sat on his heels and looked wearily at the young fighter. Why now of all times did the blasted heathen have to interrupt him with questions?
"Like this," he said with a mental sigh, 'Perhaps God is speaking through him,' he thought. "Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name," James began and was surprised to see Yuri smile. "Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done –"
"On Earth and Heaven," Yuri said, "or something like that. Yeah, I remember."
"You know it?" James asked, surprised and yet, a little pleased.
"Yeah, my mother used to say it when I was younger; she was always sayin' prayers and such," Yuri paused, looking intently at James for a moment, his thoughts lost on a another person he knew who also prayed every day, her book in her hand and a sense of divinity in her prayers. He shook his head after a moment. "Where was I?"
James was smiling at Yuri, his eyes lighter for the first time that night. "Then you aren't a heathen after all, Yuri; merely a lost lamb."
Yuri snorted and rose from the fountain.
"I ain't no sheep," he said and walked away.
Yuri was kicking around the printing press room when he heard scraping sounds coming from outside; with a scowl and a cocked fist he flung open the door to the triangular court leading to the vestry. Just coming in from the outside door was Koudelka. In an instant, Yuri had pulled her through into the printing room, looked her over quickly, and wrapped his arms tightly around her, burying his face in her hair.
"Koudelka, Koudelka, oh thank god yer all right," he said softly, his voice muffled.
Koudelka was startled by the warm reception and perturbed that Yuri would grab her so suddenly, but really, he wasn't hurting her and in fact, seemed genuinely concerned for her, as he had at their meeting at the underground shrine. And he wasn't that unpleasant to deal with, if a little odd. 'And smelly,' she thought, 'really, really smelly."
"Yuri," she said, "Yuri you're squeezing me." And when Yuri didn't let go, "Yuri do me a favor, take what's left of that trench coat, and throw it away. You stink!"
That brought Yuri's head up and he chuckled. "Okay, I got it. I'll go wash. But what about you? Are you all right? You're not hurt or anything? Should I get James to heal you or something?"
"No," Koudelka said with a shake of her head. "I – I'm all right. A little battered, a little frightened but what I've seen, but otherwise I am well. However, I do have some bad news. I saw the caretakers – they're both dead."
"Oh yeah?"
"Apparently they were the ones responsible for killing all the thieves that were sneaking into the monastery; and with good reason."
"What? They're dead? I can hardly believe it," James said, joining them from the Archives.
"It's true, Bessy told me before..." Koudelka shook her head, trying to sort her thoughts. "Before we met up in the tunnels, Ogden had captured me," she began.
"That bastard," growled Yuri, his fist raised, but Koudelka waved it off.
"He was insane," she continued, raising her hand to indicate the monastery. "He killed the thieves who broke in here in some insane attempt at avenging the death of Elaine."
James looked shocked, his face turning pale and he turned away, facing the wall. "Death – of Elaine? I … I can't believe this," he said softly.
Yuri turned toward the priest, who had paled at Koudelka's words. "You wanna explain this, James?" Yuri asked.
"I don't know what you mean."
Yuri shook his head, gesturing at the priest. "You know damned well who she is, so fess up priest."
James turned startled eyes onto Yuri, confusion warring with disbelief and despair. How dare this uncultured youth... this heathen... judge him!
"Look James, if you know something, please tell me. All I know is that Elaine's spirit called me to this place." Koudelka had approached James, her hand out to touch his sleeve, but James moved back, horrified at her words. "Tell me, who is Elaine? And Patrick? The caretakers told me that robbers broke into their home while Patrick was away, and murdered her. Elaine was a benefactor for the caretakers; they took it upon themselves to murder every single robber that entered their grounds. It … it was a form of revenge for them."
James turned away, putting both Koudelka and the young fighter at his back. He remained silent for a moment, collecting his thoughts, his memories and trying to reconcile what he believed with what he now knew. 'How could this have happened?' he silently cried then shook himself.
"I – I'm originally from Ireland you see," he said, his back still to the room and the waiting listeners. "And though small, my family had a successful business and so was able to send me to school, which I loved from an early age." He paused, a weary yet pleased expression on his face. He turned back to pace the small confines of the pressroom. "I was eventually accepted to a prestigious University in England and that's where I met Patrick Heyworth; we were both studying chemistry and embarking on similar paths." James finally turned to look at Koudelka and Yuri, both waiting patiently, Koudelka standing not too far from him and Yuri leaning against the printing press that he had kicked and broken.
"It was about that same time that we began competing for the love of a beautiful woman, Elaine Spencer," James continued and a small smile creased his lips, his eyes filling with light. "But we had a falling out. I loved Elaine with all my heart," he said and James' tones were fervent. "Amor vincit amnia – but love does not conquer all. I soon discovered that I lacked the social status and inheritance money necessary to care for someone as well-bred and sheltered as Elaine," he sighed.
"I gave up my suit and made way for Patrick. It was then I joined the church, tossing aside the secular world and throwing myself into my faith. You understand - I am a perfectionist," he said and Yuri snorted from his perch by the printing press. James ignored him. "I spent myself on learning all I could in all areas of faith. And because of that, the Vatican raised me to a bishop in charge of some very important matters."
"The émigré thingie," Yuri commented.
James looked at the young fighter and frowned. "Yes, but you see, it's been so hard to... distance oneself from one's emotional attachments. Although I had not seen them for twenty years, still I wished them all the best. And, if it had not been for this, I wouldn't have thought twice about not seeing Patrick again." James suddenly turned toward the library door, his eyes brilliant and with a renewed mask of confusion and sorrow on his face.
"Patrick; how can this be? He promised me he was going to take care of Elaine and make her happy. What could have happened?"
"I don't know James," Koudelka said softly, her voice hollow. "But being a witness... to this gory aftermath, I have a hard time believing the caretakers were acting on revenge alone." She shook her head, running fingers through her bangs. Tapping the toe of one boot on the floor, she continued. "Believe me it was an unimaginably heinous sight."
"You said the caretakers were dead – how did they die?" James asked, turning to her once more.
Koudelka sighed. "Ogden – Ogden tried to kill me... in the arbor; there's an operating table and..." she paused, swallowing. "He was insane and rambling on about a ship – the Princess Alice-"
"Alice?" Yuri asked, and his eyes suddenly swirled with color and he blanched dizzily, looking down at his scuffed boots and the dirty floor.
"The ship he captained. But his wife, Bessy, rescued me – and killed her husband and then herself."
"Oh my God," James muttered and crossed himself.
"So you see there's more here than just the mystery of Elaine. And what about the monsters roaming this place? There's more here yet to uncover." She reached into her pouch and pulled a blue-tipped key from it, showing it to Yuri and James. "I got this from Bessy; it's the key to Patrick's mansion."
Yuri looked up dazedly at the key, his vision still swimming with confusion. Koudelka stood in the pressroom with a blue-tipped key, and next to her was James. And then, the blonde woman in the very, very short blue dress, and black net stockings. He thought he should remember her; he could here her sharp laughter as she held out a telegram she was going to send. And the other blonde, the one with silver white hair and the old Chinaman with the staff.
Dizzy, Yuri slid to the floor, putting one hand to his head and moaning.
"Alice...Alice?"
The silver-blonde girl laughing at him as he ate dinner at... a restaurant? He felt such relief that she was well, healthy... why? And that tower in Shanghai – he should remember that – it's where he died, it's where they both died – no, no, it's where SHE died and he... he never got there.
Koudelka looked over at Yuri and saw him slide to the floor, his face pasty white and she knelt at his side.
"Yuri? Are you all right?"
James took a few steps closer. "He's been fighting like a madman, and has been poisoned and then broke his hand. He's probably feeling the aftermath of such stupidity."
Koudelka nodded. "Yuri, I think we can rest for a little bit; you need to wash up and... and I've got weapons and things I found along the way," she offered and placed one hand on his shoulder.
Yuri nodded dumbly. "Wash, yeah wash," he muttered and then rose shakily to his feet and shuffled to the fountain in the archives.
"How did he—" Koudelka began, but James shook his head.
"He's quite mad, Koudelka. He seems obsessed with you."
Koudelka shook her head. "He's obsessed truly, but with amending some mistake he's made. I don't know what to think." She went back to the doorway and dragged in a sack she had been carrying when she arrived. From inside she pulled out a rifle and several boxes of ammunition.
"I got this from the caretaker. It's more powerful than the pistol, but I wouldn't get rid of that just yet; not while we still have rounds for it," she said and handed the weapon to James. He took it and investigated it carefully, checking the trigger and the safety.
"It seems all right. What else did you find in your journey here?" he asked.
Koudelka chuckled. "I think Yuri will like these," and she pulled out a pair of very sharp and very nasty looking claws and laid them on the printing press. "They're knuckles really, he can use them to punch, but these spikes they put on are still very sharp." Each claw had two rows of spikes, not much more than an inch or two in size, but still sharp. "I also found this combat knife left behind by some hapless would-be thief," and this she set on the broken printing press with the claws. The knife had a ten-inch blade, sharp on one edge, with jagged teeth on the other. Its grip was wrapped around with leather and it looked quite strong.
"What about yourself?" James asked, eyeing the weapons with disgust.
"Well, I can use the pistol of course, but I got one of these in a fight in the courtyard," and she pulled a round object from her pouch; it was a cat's eye – large and mutated, the membrane rigid in death.
"Oh my God, Koudelka!"
Koudelka smiled. "I know; but it has its uses. Although it's useless as a conventional weapon, it magnifies my magic."
"Ah, well, good," James said and shook his head. "Why don't you give that stuff to Yuri then? I'm going to step out the door and get some air."
"Don't go far James," Koudelka said and watched him leave before placing the weapons back in the sack and entering the archives.
She rapped softly at the door before entering and setting the sack on the floor. When she looked up Yuri was bent over the fountain, his head in the cold water and she chucked softly at the sight. It struck her funny bone, she thought, to see a grown man bathing in a fountain. But then he raised his head, shaking water over himself and the floor and Koudelka saw he was shirtless, the rags of his trench coat were piled on the floor and his red shirt, more black now than red, was draped on a crate, dripping. He'd rinsed it out and now was splashing water from the font onto himself, rubbing it over muscular arms, down a well-cut chest to partially unbuttoned leather trousers.
'He's very well put together,' Koudelka thought with a sigh. 'Very well defined; it's a pity…' Shaking herself, she cleared her throat.
"I brought you some armor – if it fits, and weapons," she said, and Yuri turned around quickly, fists raised. Koudelka grinned. "You're fast with those things; too bad I've been standing here for a minute already."
Yuri relaxed and laughed softly. "Yeah, well…" He gestured toward the sack she carried. "You brought that for me?"
Nodding Koudelka brought the sack over to the fountain and, setting it down, brought out the weapons once more and then a slinky looking vest that, once Yuri picked it up and investigated, was shown to be chain mail.
"Heavy stuff," he said and held it up to his shoulders. "Might fit at that."
"Good, you need the protection. James was telling me…"
"Ah he worries too much," Yuri said, letting the mail fall at his feet and instead, grabbing Koudelka around the waist, and pulling her close. "Me, I like to take things one day at a time."
Koudelka's lips curled up into an amused smile that lit her dark eyes.
"You're playing with fire, Yuri," she said.
"I'm standing next to water," he replied, pulling her into an embrace and bent down to kiss her, his lips pressing urgently on her own partially open mouth and enticing a long exploration. His arms held her close, one hand caressing her back while the other moved down to pull up her short skirt, running his fingers over the exposed flesh of her legs above her stockings, and pulling gently at her under clothes. His lips were mashed against her mouth, and he felt fiery warmth spreading over him. He pulled her closer, their bodies rubbing together, his hips moving to stroke her with the need he was feeling within his leather trousers.
Yuri's hands moved over Koudelka's body with warmth and intensity and she encircled his waist, her hands roving up his well-formed back and kneading the muscles. He felt good in her arms, strong, protective, and one other thing she had not felt in a long time: trust. She had not trusted anyone in more years than she cared to count, and she trusted Yuri. She trusted him and she wanted him and she knew he felt the same, knew it in his kisses, his touches and in his almost desperate thrusts of hip and tongue.
Yuri's hands were roving over Koudelka, caressing her derriere, and fondling her breasts through the lacy bustier. He took one of her hands and guided it to his unbuttoned trousers, sliding the long fingered hand inside and letting her stroke his needy shaft. He wanted her so much, he wanted to love her right then and there, to hold her, protect her, and cherish her forever and, with her hands on him he felt alive again with a sense of purpose and a driving need that wanted slaking in the fiery furnace that was Koudelka.
But a moment more and her hand was withdrawing, her lips moving away from his, her body pushing away and Yuri felt bereft, cold, alone again and as he released Koudelka from his near death grip, he frowned.
"Why?"
"Because it's not the right time for this," she said huskily. "Later, but not now."
"I want you Koudelka; I want to hold you, make love to you. How can you say, 'not now'?"
Koudelka moved away from Yuri, stepping around him to take a handful of the cold water from the font and sluice her face with it.
"Because as much as I want it, as much as you want it, there is more here than just what we want. Later Yuri; I promise."
Yuri, his breath becoming calm, buttoned up his trousers and, reaching down, took up the chain mail vest, pulling it on.
"I know you think I just want this for now," he said as he tied the laces on the vest, "but that couldn't be further from true. I – I don't just want to have sex with you, although," and he looked up with a crooked smile playing across his face, "that's not a bad idea. I think I love you, Koudelka."
"Even with what you need to do, Yuri? This thing you have to fix?"
"Especially with that."
"Are you remembering anything?" she asked, stepping down from the font and crossing the room to take up his damp shirt and help him on with it.
"A little maybe," he said, rubbing the back of his neck. "Flashes of things and people and I – I don't know what it means. Or who they are."
Koudelka nodded as she helped him pull the shirt on over the chain mail vest and then handed him the belts.
"Want these?" And when he nodded, she handed them to him. "Yuri, who is Alice?"
Yuri, pulling the buckles tight on the twin belts he had slung around his hips, suddenly stopped, blanching, his face drawing close and his eyes growing haunted.
"I … I don't know. The name," he paused to swallow, "the name sounds familiar."
"Is she the one who accidentally died?" Koudelka asked and her eyes had grown sharp like a raven's beak. He had remembered something; she knew it, for his reaction earlier only confirmed it.
"She … she …" Yuri tried pulling the memory of Alice from his jumbled thoughts, the image of the silver blonde woman and what she meant to him. 'Is she the one I killed?' he wondered. 'No, no she died in Shanghai. So it couldn't have been her.' He looked up at Koudelka and shrugged. "I don't know."
Koudelka sighed and indicated the weapons lying on the floor.
"For you, Yuri. To use to protect us, if you wish," she said.
Yuri took up the combat knife and slid it into his belt and the claw-like knuckles. He looked at them carefully, trying them on, and then grinned up at Koudelka.
"Yeah, these are nice. And I will protect you Koudelka; I promised. I won't let anything happen to you, ever."
"All right, I can accept that. Are you ready?"
Yuri nodded and offered his arm. "Whenever you are."
James was waiting for them at the gate to the graveyard. Koudelka told them where Patrick's mansion was located. "It's on the other side of the courtyard, next to the church. But after I escaped that gargoyle, I checked and the door on the outside was bolted. We'll have to another way."
"But what other way could there be?" James asked. He was standing at the head of the small stairs leading down to the graveyard.
"Back through those damned tunnels probably," Yuri answered.
James frowned and sighed. "I'm going down here for a moment," and he descended the stone stairs to the graveyard, pausing at the foot to look around. The graveyard was desolate, located at the outer wall of the monastery and facing the sea. A handful of ancient gravestones were gathered beyond a broken chained fence while one marker stood alone at the cliff's edge. Curious, James crossed the broken stone paved yard to the grave and knelt to read the inscription.
"Saint Daniel Scotius, Eriugenia," James read and one hand moved to tap his pouch that contained the mummified hand of the saint. "I thought you died in France. Or do your bones rest elsewhere?"
"James," called Koudelka from the top of the stairs, "we're leaving. Come on."
James did not reply, but rose and returned to the library. Koudelka and Yuri were returning through the library and retracing their steps to the water fountain and James hurried to catch up.
"Why back this way?" he asked. "We have the key don't we?"
"Yes, but the door into the mansion wasn't only locked, for when I looked in a nearby window, I could see that it was bolted from the inside. There must be another way in; probably through a side passage."
"But we could look forever," James protested. "Why not simply let Yuri … kick in the door or window like he usually does."
"Oh thanks James, break my foot this time instead of my hand?" Yuri said suppressing a grin.
"Well then…" James thought quickly, "use one of those demons of yours."
Yuri gestured toward the stairs and let Koudelka descend first; they had climbed without incident to the second floor library and passed through the puzzle room; the thief's body was still lying slumped against the wall near the door and, except for Yuri giving it a nudge with his boot, did not move. Yuri watched Koudelka descend the stairs, his eyes unwavering on her swaying backside and James had to clear his throat to get his attention.
"Well?"
"Oh, well, it's simple James. We don't have a lot of that listel stuff; and we'll need it later. Trust me on that."
James hesitated, letting Yuri move ahead as he thought over what Yuri had just said. 'Need the listel for recovery? That means more heavy magical battles… And how does he know that?' Yuri continued ahead, his stride confident, the claws set comfortably on his hands, and James wondered what craziness spun in his addled brain. Yuri stopped at the door to the water font and looked back.
"Hey priest, get yer ass in gear!"
A/N: Not too much action in this last chapter but the next one we are back into the fray with battles, monsters and Yuri/James repartee. And these two can be really funny when they're not trying to kill each other.
A Lifeless Beauty: Nadie, glad you like gore. There's going to be lots and lots of gore in the upcoming chapters as well as Yuri/Koudy. Man if those two ever get it on, they'll have to call the fire brigade!
Tiger, I'm so happy I could entice you away from your nice little ficcies to come visit me in my demented world. Hehe. Stick around. You might like the outcome.