Jed stood in the front yard of the warehouse, his hands thrust into his trouser pockets. It was not his custom to greet visitors at the front gates - he had a certain reputation to uphold - but then, this was no ordinary visitation.
At the stroke of seven o'clock, an old wagon rounded the street corner and began rattling towards him. The driver was nondescript and grimy, the cart itself battered and scratched. Neither looked out of place in this quiet industrial district. No eye was drawn to the cart, even as it dragged the evening shadows in its wake, slipping a pall over the world.
Jed nodded, and the watchmen ran to swing the great gates open, and wave the wagon in.
As the cart passed into the yard, it wavered, mirage-like, then changed into a sleek black carriage before Jed's eyes, melting and reforming like some conjurer's trick.
No soul in London had seen a conveyance of this kind before. It resembled something from a dark fairytale, or the court of some wild and foreign emperor. Its wheels were cast of jet-black iron, its body hewn of polished ebony, its trappings and furnishings all sable. Its doors were emblazoned with a crest, displaying the orb of the Earth mounted atop a sceptre, crowned with five jewels, all surrounded by a halo of fire. Beneath this device was inscribed the legend: Revelabunt Caeli iniquitatem euis, et Terra consurget adversus eum[1].
The coachman had changed also, from a shabby workman, into a hulking figure in black livery and silver steel. He tugged at the reins, drawing the carriage to a halt before Jed, keeping his head down as he did so. Jed was grateful for this, for he did not enjoy meeting the coachman's eyes, nor seeing the infernal gleam that oft burned within.
A second figure, a footman of similar aspect to his colleague, leapt down and opened the carriage door. Within the vehicle, all was shadow - then a regal leg emerged, draped in an impossibly purple gown, a garment spun from twilight and dyed with dragonsblood - the leg kept emerging, for far longer than any human leg had a right to, and was succeeded by its twin, and then by its owner.
As Lady Beryl unfolded herself from the carriage and stood upright, she towered head and shoulders over Jed. She was a woman of unearthly beauty, her skin pale and flawless, with a curiously hard sheen, like marble or rock-crystal. Her flaming hair was worn loose, cascading in waves over her shoulders like a bloody tide. Her face was handsome, yet cold and stern. Heavy gemstones adorned her brow, swung from her earlobes, and girded her pearlescent neck. Though her features were well-proportioned, something in her physiognomy unsettled the viewer, as though her face had been altered from its original form, like a wax statue exposed to fire, which had begun to melt and degenerate into something grotesque. There was no flaw in the proud nose, the curiously reddish eyes, the dark mulberry lips. Yet beneath the facade, one sensed an unspoken savagery, a latent cruelty.
"My dear Jed," she said, extending a white hand downwards. The voice was as imperial as its mistress, deep and powerful, textured as rich velvet, strong enough to shatter mountains.
Jed swept his cap off his head and bowed, then took the lady's proffered hand and brought it to his mouth. He shuddered as his lips brushed against the pallid skin - whether from fear, desire or revulsion, he never knew. The hand was withdrawn, and he looked up into that bewitching face. The lady's eyes twinkled with a ruby light, as though she were laughing at him.
"Lady," Jed said, "you honour me."
"You have the goods?" There was a hunger in Lady Beryl's voice which unnerved Jed.
"Yes, madam, if it please you to come this way."
Thankfully, Lady Beryl left her eldritch attendants behind, though Jed barely noticed them in the presence of their mistress. The pair passed through the heavily guarded doors of the nearest warehouse, proceeded through various gloomy walkways, and descended into the bowels of the edifice.
"You have done well," said Lady Beryl. They had entered the room holding the "goods." A dozen young ladies sat clustered together on school benches, as though awaiting the commencement of a lecture. They appeared to be in a trance-like state, or under the influence of some powerful soporific, for each of them slouched forward or leant against her neighbour, head bowed, eyelids barely fluttering. Several of them stirred when Jed and Beryl entered the room, but beyond this there was little reaction.
Lady Beryl raised her right hand, and flexed her beringed fingers, like some Egyptian queen issuing a command to her handmaidens. A sudden chill ran down Jed's back, and a soft whispering began, like the susurration of wind through distant autumn leaves. The atmosphere in the room darkened, and a sudden glow lit the features of the drowsing damsels. Luminous particles arose from their bodies, and coalesced into glittering clouds, which danced through the air, drawn towards Lady Beryl's hand, as a lodestone draws iron. Jed had heard shiphands speak of St Elmo's fire, a blue flame which burned high on masts, or set the sea ablaze. And some of them had called it witch-fire, and said it was the souls of the departed, or the conjurings of spirits.
The sparks of light converged into a sphere, shimmering softly as it floated above the Lady's hand, pulsing like a beating heart.
"Ahh," Beryl said with satisfaction. She clenched her fist, and the light sprang straight to her breast, and was swallowed by the great jewel she wore there. The gem sparkled and burned with renewed fire, and a slight flush came into Lady Beryl's white cheeks. She stood taller and straighter than ever, her hair brighter, her eyes shining, vigour radiating from every line of her person.
The young ladies, now corpse-like in their pallour, sank closer to the ground, their breathing so slow Jed could barely see their chests move. He averted his eyes; this part always pained him.
"You have exceeded my expectations," said Beryl. "I must have more. More! But of this same quality! Use your discernment. In this squalid city, filled with worthless humans, you have found me these precious few specks of gold... I do not want the old, the used-up, the world-weary and depleted. I want fresh, young souls drawn to beauty, to love, to refinement, to romance. They thirst for more than their ugly lives; they turn their faces to the heavens. They ache to be more than they are. They are drawn to me, like moths to fire. You must make a snare for their minds and hearts, and gather them for our Queen! Let them have their wish - let them be more than fodder for the work-houses and factories of this ugly, human civilisation! Let their lives be offered as a sacrifice on the altar of greatness. Let them burn brightly with their human passion, and let it not be wasted…"
Jed bowed his head and brought his hand to his heart in salute. "My lady, let it be even as you command."
One of the young women, the one closest to Jed, trembled and opened her eyes. With great strain, she attempted to sit up. Jed stared at her in surprise.
"Sir," she said, addressing him, "my name is Charlotte…"
Lady Beryl smiled in approbation. "She is yet awake! What strength flows in her veins! This offering will be most pleasing to our Queen."
The woman named Charlotte went on, looking directly at Jed. "Sir, I have a mother… I was to wed my betrothed, Nate… I don't know what that creature is, but you seem to be a man, with a man's heart and soul… Sir, if you ever had a mother, if you ever loved anyone, I beg you to show mercy… "
Jed lowered his eyes, unable to meet that pleading gaze.
"Sir, I don't know what this fiend has offered you, but there will come a day when you meet your Creator, and you must answer before Heaven's tribunal for what you have done…"
Lady Beryl strode past Jed and stood before Charlotte, towering over the girl like some giantess.
"My dear child," Beryl said, "your faith does you credit, but it is misplaced. A judgement is indeed coming, but it is not Heaven's judgement that matters now. It is my rod and my sceptre that shall sweep the stars from the Heavens! You speak of gods? I have met them, girl. Proud, vain tyrants who enslaved mankind and watched us suffer for their sport. Human life means nothing to them. Pray that their reign shall never return.
"The human race will serve a new Master. I am the Herald and the Prophetess of your salvation. And you, my dear, sweet child, shall be rewarded for your faith. You shall gaze upon the face of Divinity, if only for a moment. You shall see one who truly deserves your worship, before you surrender your soul to her light."
Lady Beryl reached down, and with one massive, claw-like hand, she seized Charlotte about her throat, and lifted her high into the air, as though she weighed no more than a doll.
Beryl turned, looking over her shoulder at Jed, and her gaze chilled his blood.
"Bring me more," she said.
A shadow blotted out Jed's vision, and when the darkness lifted, Lady Beryl and the young women were gone. Jed stood alone.
[1] "The Heavens shall reveal his iniquity; and the Earth shall rise up against him." - Job, 20:27