Chapter 09
Tina sat in the corner of a semi-dark room, which reminded her of a bar, with its tables, chairs and the counter that stood before the shelves with bottles and glasses. The place where Aradmas held their weekly meetings. She leaned toward the petite blonde, Gillian, who sat beside her. “What are we even doing here?”
“I’m trying to stay on top of things, and you are keeping me company,” Gillian whispered. “And since I’m not exactly popular here, every friendly face helps. Well, that and Uriel asked me to take you with me.”
“Uriel?”
“Yeah, maybe he thinks that you need a woman’s company.”
That would have made sense, if it hadn’t been Uriel they were talking about. Tina glanced over the people that sat in groups behind the tables; some of them in deep conversation, some of them turned around, as if they were looking for somebody, and some of them curiously gazing at other tables.
“It’s usually more official: We review resolutions from previous meeting and then go through the issues that were proposed at the end of the last meeting, but James, who always leads the meetings, has been missing for three days, and nobody can find him.”
“Did you send out a search party?”
Gillian shook her head. “No. I mean, Nat is the only one who’s investigating the disappearance, while the others, even James’s master, believe that it’s a waste of time, especially with the Elders situation.”
“What situation?”
“You haven’t heard?”
“Heard what?”
“That since Prva has become unreachable, the Elders are gathering manpower and waiting for the chance to take the leadership,” Gillian said. “Not that they will be able to step into Prva’s shoes, not as long as the Numuns are in the picture and not when they are a greedy, selfish bunch who will kill each other for a fragment of power. But the Numuns are worried anyway and they are keeping a close eye on them for now.”
“Did Nat tell you that?”
“Yes.” Gillian nodded. “He finds the whole thing annoying and he doesn’t believe that any of the Elders would have the courage to step forward to challenge Prva’s authority and expose his intentions to the other Elders. Uriel agrees with him.”
“What about Anael and Michael? What do they think?”
“Anael thinks that they should kill every Elder and be done with it -- not that they will -- while Michael… one never knows what Michael thinks.” Gillian tilted her head to greet the red-haired Aradma, who stared at her from across the room.
The redhead gestured to them to come to their table.
“Come. Misha is one of the main gossips among the Aradmas, she might have some new information.”
Tina followed the blonde and joined the group. After Gillian introduced her and she answered some of the questions: whose Aradma she was and what it was like being the Dumes’ servant, the redhead told them that another three Aradmas had gone missing when errands had taken them beyond the estate’s walls.
“Sam, Ian and Li,” the brunette, who sat opposite to Gillian, said. “Siva thinks that since they all worked in Angelica’s lab that Deadeaters might be behind their disappearance, but when she confronted Anael with it, Anael didn’t take her seriously.”
“I will tell Nathanael about your theory,” Gillian said.
“We would appreciate it,” one of the Aradmas said, and after that a tense silence descended over the table.
“Well, we better go now.” Gillian stood up, nodded to them in goodbye and then led Tina out of the room into the labyrinth of the underground, saying that there was no point in lingering there. “Since I became Nat’s Aradma again, they are all tense and stiff around me, probably because after Prva assigned me to Angelica and I lost my station, they behaved like I wasn’t worth the dirt on their shoes.”
“It’s like high school?”
“High school?” Gillian asked. “Like in some of those movies we watched together with Haniel and Muriel?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s worse,” Gillian said. “But at least now I have Nat again.”
They turned around a corner and Gillian’s eyes zoomed onto something and her face lit up, with the corners of her mouth turning upwards. She rushed forward.
Tina’s eyes followed Gillian’s gaze and she saw Nathanael and Uriel standing by the intersection talking.
Gillian looped her arm around Nathanael’s waist, while Nathanael wrapped his strong arm around Gillian’s shoulders and pressed her closer against his side, making Gillian look fragile against his beefy body.
Tina slowly neared and stopped beside Uriel.
“How was it?” Uriel’s hand slid over Tina’s back and rested on her shoulder.
“How was what?” Tina discreetly wiggled the shoulder, but the warmth of Uriel’s hand still seeped through her thin shirt. Lately it seemed to her that Uriel had been using any opportunity to touch her; he either had his hand on her shoulder or back, he looped an arm around hers or even held her hand. It wasn’t that she minded that much, it was just… weird.
“The meeting.”
“Nothing special.”
“Did somebody approach you or show interest in you?”
“Nothing out of the ordinary, why?”
“Gillian?” Uriel addressed the blonde.
“No, nothing special,” Gillian said.
“What’s going on?” Tina asked.
“Nat suspects that one of our Aradmas is a Deadeater.” Uriel gazed down at Tina.
“And you didn’t tell me?” Gillian poked Nathanael with her elbow.
“I’m sorry, darling.” Nathanael rubbed his side.
“Why do you think that?” Tina looked at Nathanael. “Just because all those Aradmas worked for Angelica, and Petsha was trying to recruit those?”
“That can’t be a coincidence,” Nathanael said. “But it’s not just that; we found Ian. He’s dead.” He gave Gillian a compassionate turn of his lips and wrapped his arm more tightly around her small waist. “I know he was one of the rare people you got along with.” He looked over Gillian’s head at Tina. “He had his neck mutilated and was drained dry -- that’s how Deadeaters feed.”
“But wouldn’t he turn into one, then?” Tina asked Uriel.
Uriel shook his head in a no. “Just because you get bitten by them, that doesn’t mean you will become like them.”
#
Tina moved her arm in an arc and series of bubbles lighted the thick, dark grey liquid. “Damon!” she cried out. “Please, please, answer me.” She had already spent what seemed like hours floating, calling him and flailing her limbs. The bubbles extinguished as soon as they were created, leaving her in the darkness.
“Please, please, just answer me already.” She kicked out. Was this going to be another wasted night? She wanted to cry. “You are the one who is calling me. Do you hear me, you ass? You are the one, not me. You are…” Her voice broke. “Stop calling me. If you don’t want to answer me, stop calling me, then.” Why couldn’t he just --
The thickness around her dispersed, something pulled her backwards and her back hit a solid narrow block.
She lay there, her legs and arms dangling down as she stared at the beams and the wooden roof above her. A voice talking in a strange mixture of syllables drifted up to her. Chinese?
Where was she? She turned her head, her arms touching the thing on which she lay, her fingers slipped over the roughed texture of what felt like wood. She lay on the beam. Great, just great.
She slowly, carefully rolled onto her side; her teeth bit the tender skin of her lower lip, comforting herself that if she fell, she could use her ability. She looked down at the men in brown, grey, black and white clothes and funny, narrow and tall cylindrical hats, who sat on opposite sides of a curved tribunal, while a lonely man sat on the raised platform before their two crescent-shaped rows. How had she found herself in here?
A movement in the corner of her eye drew her gaze to the middle of the space where, on the beam that crossed hers, sat a young boy.
She admired the complicated configuration of his long ebony tassels and the colourful silk that fell in layers down his body. “Hey,” she said in a low voice as she climbed closer to him.
But the boy ignored her and continued to stare at the men below him.
“What are you doing?” she whispered.
The child looked at her, through her, his green eyes big in his face, and the voices below accelerated, as if they were on fast-forward.
Tina looked down and saw that even the men’s motion had accelerated too.
“Damon,” a girl in attire similar to the boy’s, but less elaborate, called from the beginning of the beam. She gestured for the child to come to her, saying things in the same language as the men.
Was this Damon? The child version of him? How old was he? He looked to be around four or five. Tina reached out to touch the boy’s shoulder, but her hand went right through him.
The boy said something back to the girl before he showed her his tongue, and after the girl started to climb on all fours toward him, he stood up and rushed in the opposite direction, the silk and the long tails of black hair floating behind him.
Tina lifted herself onto her knees. She wanted to crawl after the boy, but then noticed movement from the corner of her eye. A leg in an army combat boot swung down from the one of beams on the left side of the building.
She scrambled toward the wall and used it to pull herself up. She looked beyond the leg at its owner, who leaned with his back against the wall with closed eyes. She wished she could pull on one of the three long tassels that fell over Damon’s chest, but unfortunately she couldn’t reach them; she couldn’t even reach his boot. She searched around for anything that would help her either reach Damon or climb onto the beam where he sat, but she couldn’t see anything.
“Damon,” she called out. “Damon!”
Damon’s eyelids fluttered open and for a moment revealed the green irises before he closed his eyes.
“Damon!” Tina’s eyes became two narrow lines and she would have stamped her foot if she hadn’t been afraid of falling.
He opened his eyes again and this time he also bent forward. His jaw tensed. “What do you want?”
The urge to curse him washed over her. “You are the one calling me, not the other way around!” She could do just fine without him and his calls, thank you very much.
“What do you want?” he repeated.
This time she did stamp her foot, almost losing her footing in the process. “The better question would be: What do you want?”
He crossed his arms and propped his back against the wall again. “Go back where you came from.”
“You tore me away from a normal life! And now I should go back! How dare you?” She put a hand over her mouth and with deep breaths calmed down the frustration that surged forward. Getting upset wouldn’t help her. “You are the one who brought me here and if you don’t want me here then stop calling me.”
“I can’t.” He frowned. “It’s stronger than me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I wish you would leave me alone.”
“I wish I could, but I can't, can I?” She gave him an ugly look. “Now, tell me what you mean by 'it's stronger than me.’”
“You really are a nuisance.”
Tina fisted her hands.
He rose up, jumped down and landed beside her. His hands cupped her cheeks and eyes scrutinised her. “You have the mark of my Beloved and my soul calls to you.”
So that’s how it was. Tina stared back at the emerald orbs.
His arms dropped by his side. “I can’t prevent it.” He stepped backwards. “I wish I could. Then I wouldn't have to tolerate your company.”
She had always known that she meant nothing to him, known that all those gentle touches and yearning gazes that he had bestowed on her in the past were for Trinity, not for her, but to hear that out loud from him, it hurt. It hurt. Why did it hurt? She gritted her teeth. Who cared? So what if he saw her as an annoyance? She was here for a reason, to try to learn where Petsha was holding him and... she looked down at her bare feet. She had thought she would try to help him with his grief... but... Her nails cut into the softness of her palm. It was better this way. Much, much better. She felt the wetness at the corners of her eyes and she blinked it away. Liar, liar, pants on fire. “I might be able to do something about it, but not before we learn where Petsha is holding you,” she spoke up, surprised when her voice sounded almost normal, just slightly out of breath.
He took another step backwards and his form started to shimmer.” And how do you intend to do that?”
“I don’t know.” She carefully took a step forward and reached out for him, and when her hand pushed right through him, she lost her balance. “Help me!” She tried to find something to hold, knowing that she wouldn’t get any help from Damon, but she tried to grab him anyway in her attempt to balance herself. She looked at him, who with tilted head watched her, before he stretched out his arm; his finger touched her forehead. He pushed against it.
The ass. Her eyes widened as she fell backwards and her arms waved wildly around. She closed her eyes, preparing herself for the pain. She expected her body to bump against the beam and to knock her head against the wall before she fell down to the polished wood below, but when she landed on her backside, it hit something much softer than a wooden beam. Her eyelids fluttered open and she looked around; the sight of the sky and a small stream running among the flower beds, bushes and trees arranged in pleasant patterns greeted her. Her hands touched the grass. A garden. How?
At the sound of laughter she turned her head, and a few steps away she could see a child, a slightly older version of the boy on the beam, and a beautiful woman pulling on a ribbon.
Tina’s eyes followed the ribbon to the paper version of a yellow dragon that floated under the clouded sky. Voices drifted to her; she expected the same language as before, but no -- the words they spoke were familiar to her and she could actually understand a few of them.
She pulled herself up into a sitting position, frowned when her gaze found Damon, who towered over her and who stared at the couple. “Your mom?” she asked.
“Yeah.” Damon slightly shook his head before he passed Tina.
Tina wanted to stop him, to ask what was going on, but Damon’s body started to shimmer again and this time Damon disappeared.
She sighed. She should probably call Muriel and ask him to wake her up, but... She rubbed her forehead and stood up. She was inside Damon’s head, surrounded with what looked to be Damon’s memories, and if she wanted to learn more about him, now was the chance. Even though she hated the jerk, hated the way he could make a wild mess of her feelings with just a few words and she should definitely not care for him. She dusted off her comfortable cotton pants and looked around at the tall wall with arches that surrounded the garden. She went toward the arch, above which she could see a tower.
She was under the arch on the polished stone when she noticed something glittering in the inside wall of the arch. She stepped closer to it.
A narrow and tall undulating surface stood against the wall, and she noticed three others next to it. Without the ripples, they could have been mirrors. Her gaze slid over them. She could see something inside. She looked closer, her fingers touched the surface and something pulled her in. She stumbled forward, into a large room, where scattered on the floor lay half-wrecked and ripped apart furniture and shredded ribbons of silk, some moving in the air disturbed by a teenager pacing restlessly around.
The boy looked like Damon. And he probably was Damon. Tina straightened, her eyes drawn to the old man, who in a monotone voice, with his back pressed against the wall, tried to calm the boy, pleading with him to think about what happened when he let the anger overtake him.
“I don’t care. I don’t care.” The boy stopped and kicked at the overturned cabinet, sending it flying across the room and to the wall where it shattered. “I don’t care.” Another piece of crafted wood ended up against the wall, demolished.
The boy started to grow taller, wider and his features started to change, becoming more animal-like, while his red eyes became brighter, they glowed, and they looked straight at her. “I’m going to kill them all!” Four black wings, similar to Muriel’s, spread from the boy’s back, their beating extinguished the candles set in the iron sconces high on the wall.
Despite the darkness Tina could still see him, the beast who started to roar, the red light that burst out of him in waves and crashed against the walls. She embraced herself. And she could see fangs that protruded from the boy’s muzzle; long and slightly curved, they reached down to the end of Damon’s jaw.
“Don’t look.” A hand descended over her eyes, making her flinch, but the familiarity of the warmth and the smell that embraced her made her relax and she leaned on the chest behind her. “Don’t look,” Damon’s voice said against her ear.
Darkness rushed through her, the warmth disappeared and she found herself in grey liquid. She floated there, a little lost, before she punched out her fists, creating bubbles. “Damon! Damon!” she called out before her tone lowered into a whisper, “You ass!”