Chapter 8: "Sweat"

Gillian wiped the sweat from her face and hit after the insects buzzing around them. Despite the high position on a mountain, the jungle was nearly impenetrable at this point and they had to leave the jeep and make their way on foot.
They moved slowly, the men before her cut a path with a machete.
Only three men were left: two supporters and a local guide, which whom Gillian had to communicate in broken English. The rest, with whom she had set out on her expedition, had fled from her, either when they found out where the trip went to, or after her strange behavior made them run. The three that were left, were afraid of her, too.
Gillian could not help it.
For weeks now she was on her way in the jungle, after she first had to cross half the continent by airplane and then to drive many miles in a jeep. Eventually, she found no more excuses as to why she could not be out in the daylight, and the locals strictly refused to walk in the jungle at night.
Gillian protected herself from the sunlight by a self-made sleeping bag, which was lined inside with aluminum foil, temporarily but effectively.
She had to rely on these men, even if she had learned how to handle a map and a compass. Lots of money and fear of her wrath kept the men staying with her, and not abandon her in the middle of nowhere.
Gannen Harst had obeyed to the order of Steve Leopard, and given her the coordinates where the grave of the last shadowdancer should be located.
But he had not come with her, Gillian had to went of alone.
Now they were many miles away from the last inhabited village, and their food run out. It had to last long enough for the way back, too.
But it was not far any more.
Rest of ruins began to appear on the right and left of the road repeatedly, and Gillian became more and more excited.
Finally, they reached a kind of clearing, and the men came to a halt.
Before them loomed the shapeless block of a faded stone pyramid whose levels were covered with dense undergrowth and vines.
With a pounding heart Gillian entered the clearing, but the men shook their heads and talked applied to each other.
They did not dare to go near the pyramid.
Gillian impatiently gave them the order to wait here and build up a camp on the brim of the clearing for the day.
She pulled her machete, and walked the rest of the way on her own.
She tried to walk around the stone building, looking for an entrance.
Although Gillian could not say it with certainty: the Mayan had not built that pyramid, and also no other culture that was mentioned in the human history books.
In the heat, which also prevailed in the jungle at night, Gillian made a path to the foot of the stairs.
She raised the torch and in its flickering light appeared a hole that was cut into the side wall of the pyramid.
An entrance.
But as Gillian approached closer, she stopped.
The entrance was still in the dark.
Even as Gillian held the tip of the torch far into the hole, no apparent stone walls came to light, which should have to be there to see.
The torch gave a hiss, and she quickly pulled it back.
The interior of the pyramid was filled with impenetrable and unnatural darkness.
Gillian stared breathlessly at the inky blackness.
She had never seen shadows that had not been conjured up by herself.
This was the darkness of a shadowdancer!
Gillian realized that no one could enter this grave, who was not himself a shadowdancer.
Especially not a vampire could go beyond this barrier, without going up in flames.
The pyramid was filled with darkness, which burned like sunlight.
Gillian chewed on her lower lip.
Damn.
She was a shadowdancer.
But she was a vampire as well.
Would she manage to pass through this barrier? Or would the shadow see her as an enemy, as a vampire, and burn her to ashes?
Gillian felt goose bumps crawl down her spine.
She had come so far.
She had to try it.
The vampiress put the torch into the earth near the entrance, and stretched her stiff limbs after this long hike.
She forced herself to breathe quietly, and closed her eyes.
She sensed into the entrance, and tried to call the shadows in there.
Startled, she sniffed the air, and gasped.
This darkness in there was unlike any she had ever known.
It was as if in there was an alive and intelligent, evil being. One fulfilled with hatred.
The shadowdancer who was in that grave, had pulled together all his anger and hatred to protect his final resting place.
But Gillian did not come here in bad faith.
She was looking for a teacher.
She closed her eyes and concentrated.
Let me in, I am not an enemy, she thought concentrated.
With gestures that she had taught herself, she ordered the darkness to soften before her. She closed her eyes and opened them not, for fear that she would hesitate when she saw that it had not worked.
Then she held her breath, and boldly stepped into the tunnel.

It was as if she dipped in cool water.
But the shadows did not burn her.
She opened her eyes, and for a moment did not know if they were already open, or not, because all she saw was the blackest night. Then her shadowdancer eyes became used to the darkness and she saw the gray shape of a chamber.
Gillian gently penetrated deeper into the pyramid.
She saw the silhouette of a sarcophagus, which rested just before her on a stone pedestal.
Her pulse quickened.
The sarcophagus was open, and as Gillian told the darkness to give way, she tore it open like a fog, revealing the view. The view on the figure of a mummy that lay with arms crosses over his chest in the open stone sarcophagus
The mummy was leathery and dried up, and it was impossible to say how long it had been here.
The head of the shadowdancer was placed in his neck and Gillian saw fascinated and afraid that darkness as black as smoke poured out of the gaping mouth of the mummy.
He produced the blackness!
Still!
Gillian carefully stepped closer to the sarcophagus, unsure what to do next.
Then she turned, startled.
In the darkness behind the coffin had been something glowing and went out again, like the tip of a cigarette.
With a beating heart, she stared at the spot, trying to see through the darkness.
There it was again!
It glowed and faded.
Glowed and faded.
Glowed and faded - Gillian thought she recognized a heart-shaped outline.
She noticed that the red-hot heart seemed to pulsate to the pulse of her own heartbeat.
"Who's there?", she gasped.
Someone stepped out of the darkness.
Someone with a pocket watch in the form of a heart in his hand.
Desmond Tiny.

Gillian staggered back a few steps. A cold shiver crept up her spine.
What had this one to do here?
The fat man in the shiny suit seemed not to sweat nor to suffer from the insects. He looked fresh like newborn as he emerged, and looked with an amused smile at Gillian.
At sight of cold fear crept up to her and grabbed her heart.
Gillian had met this scary man, who called himself Desmond Tiny, only a few times. The little people of the Cirque du Freak belonged to him, and he occasionally visited and had brought some or taken some with him. Without exception, all the members of the Cirque were afraid of him, and stayed out of his way. There was the wildest rumors about him. It was said that he was a magician.
And it was said, that he eats small children for breakfast.
Larten Crepsley feared and hated the Magician, and that was reason enough for Gillian to hate him too.
"What are you doing here?" gasped Gillian, and tried to hide her fear.
"So you've finally found your way here," he said, amused, and Gillian stared at him aghast.
"Does that mean you were expecting me?"
"Certainly," he chuckled merrily.
Gillian angrily furrowed a brow. "Then you know what this is here," she pointed to the grave and to the black smoke that came from the mummies throat.
"I suppose I do," chuckled Mr. Tiny so that his chin wobbled.
Gillian's mind raced.
"And you know why I'm here."
"Because you have questions, little Gillian." He urgently looked at her.
The heart-shaped clock glowed in his hand and then went out to the rhythm of her own pulse.
Gillian cocked her head. "And you can answer my questions."
Mr Tiny turned away and stalked a couple of steps into the chamber.
"I could. But that would be too easy, right? It's much more amusing to observe you as you tap in the darkness." He laughed happily about his play on words.
Gillian angrily contorted her face.
He looked at her avuncular, "I like to observe you. You have high entertainment value. Really. I like you, vampiress Gillian."
Gillian squinted her eyes and snorted.
Mr Tiny grinned: "And because I like you so much, I grant you a question. How is that? A single question. Consider well, then, before you ask it."
Apparently, he was enjoying himself very much, and Gillian turned her back on him in disgust.
What was this about? She did not trust him for a second.
And yet ...
Yet he probably knew everything about the grave and the shadowdancers.
Nobody knew how old Mr. Tiny was - or what he was- but Larten Crepsley had hinted that he existed since a very long time. He was perhaps older than the oldest of the vampires. Older than Paris Skyle.
He wanted to answer her a question. Why not? She would hear what he had to say.
She began to pace up and down thoughtfully, and did not notice how she rubbed about the scar on her left side while she were deep in thoughts.
There was so much, what she wanted to know, so much she was wondering, so much she did not understand.
She looked at the grave of the shadowdancer and watched the black smoke flowing from his mouth bathing the room in perpetual night.
Mr Tiny watched Gillian and held her gaze.
"Why is she called the Queen of Air and Darkness? What's up with the air? I understand the part about the darkness, but what about the air ... ?"
Mr Tiny grimaced in anger. "Not that! I will not answer that to you. Ask another question!"
Gillian looked stunned, like Des Tiny was furious. "Why not? Why don`t you want to answer that?"
"Never mind the air! This is not for you! Stay with the darkness!"
Excited Gillian understood that she probably came upon something important. If Mr Tiny did not want her to ask him questions about the air, then these questions were probably very important!
"We had a deal. Answer my question, Des Tiny! "
The sinister fat man looked at her in a way that made Gillian ran shivers down her spine. She realized this man was evil. Abysmal evil!
She could not hide her fear, and Mr Tiny pouted his lips. "I have granted you to ask a question. I have not granted you that I will answer it", he said gleefully and made Gillian hopping mad.
She snorted and turned away.
It took her great self-control, to turn her back to this man, while all of her senses shouted at her that she could not trust him.
But she wanted to avoid that he became even more angry at her.
This man was capable of anything.
"All right," she said, as casually as possible, and acted as if she was interested in more details of the sarcophagus. "I'll have to find out myself."
Mr Tiny watched her as she walked around the grave, and ran her fingers over an inscription.
It was written in Latin.
She looked back at him. "Then tell me why you're here."
This seemed to please the magician again. A smile flickered back on his fat face. "Who says I want something?" He chuckled.
"You have certainly not come all the long way here just to see me?", said Gillian, and pulled an eyebrow in mock surprise.
Mr Tiny chuckled merrily. "Oh, the way is not as far as you think."
Gillian leaned over the sarcophagus and looked seemingly interested at the mummy.
"How about if I do answer your question?"
Gillian looked up.
"But then you have to also do something for me."
Gillian grabbed cold fear. Tiny was the last person with whom she wanted to have a deal. Whatever he wanted from her, she could not do it in any case.
Nevertheless, she was eager to learn what it was that he wanted from her.
"What?" she asked, therefore her stomach rebelled with fear. "What do you want me to do?"
Mr Tiny looked at her cold and calculating. "I'll answer your question. But not yet. It's not time yet. One day you will get the answer to your question. But until then, you have just to do one thing."
He paused, enjoying the effect of his words.
"What do you want?" moaned Gillian.
With a wicked smile Des Tiny leaned forward: "I want you to choose for a side!"