Chronicles of Darkness: Shadows and Dust (10 page)

         She put the candlestick
on a big wooden table and waited a few heartbeats, until her eyes had adjusted
to the sparse light. Then she started to search for the documents. "I
suppose the files of the nobles are stored somewhere else." Because of all
her years working at night time, her eyesight had intensified, and she had no
trouble reading the name tags on the files. She couldn't find anything in the
lower rows, so she climbed the ladder to reach the upper rows, where she found
what she was looking for.

         Confidently, she pulled
the big wooden drawer with the label
Noble Birth Certificates
open.
"Direct hit!" she announced and grinned wildly. Her fingers flew through
the papers, and she picked out a bundle of scrolls. "Somebody really nice
just saved me a lot of work... the births of all noble girls from the last
twenty-five years." Feverishly, she went through the entries, realizing
much too late the sound of approaching footsteps. They stopped in front of the
door. In the blink of an eye, Helena flattened herself against the floor.
'The
keyhole... the candlelight....'

         Listening closely, she
kept laying, carefully hidden, the bundle of certificates directly under her
face. The door opened and the night porter entered the room. Dust from the dry
paper whirled up, as Helena breathed in. She felt her nose itching and quickly
covered her face with one hand to stifle the impending sneezing attack.

         Frowning, the old man
discovered the burning candle on the table. "It looks like one of the fine
policemen forgot something. Tsk... Could have burnt down the whole place."

He extinguished the candle and was
about to leave the room, but then suddenly hesitated. He stood directly under
Helena's hiding place, thinking out loud, "Maybe I should have a closer
look..."

         The huntress scrunched up
her face.
'Oh, no. Please, go, please!'
Helena's mind screamed.

         "Ah no," he
decided. "My back is hurting so bad today. I wouldn't be able to climb the
ladder. I will go and take a little nap. It's just a night like every other,
anyway."

         The door closed behind
him and Helena released a deep breath. Exhausted, her head sank down on the
documents. "That was a close call. I have enough for today. I have to go
back to the castle and get to bed."

*****

         Meanwhile, Kyrian and
Skylar had returned to the castle and sat in front of the big fireplace. While
the girl was reading in a big, old book, her brother was staring, dreamy-eyed,
into the dancing flames. His expression indicated that his thoughts were far
away.

         Tired, Skylar rubbed her
eyes and looked at him. "I'm off to bed," she announced, yawning,
rose and placed the book on the floor, beside the armchair. When she got no
answer, she used her index finger to poke him in the shoulder.
"Kyrian?" she asked. "Is everything alright?"

         The young man jerked back
from his fantasies and stammered, "Wh-What is it?"

         Skylar smirked.
"Where have you been with your thoughts, dreamer?"

         Kyrian cleared his
throat, clearly embarrassed, and said briskly, "That's none of your
concern!"

         Skylar stared at him,
making him even more nervous.

         "What is it?"
he asked suspiciously and drew his brows together.

         The girl was grinning
wildly now. "Something happened to your face."

         Stunned, Kyrian touched
his cheeks. "What's wrong with my face?"

         "You... are...
blushing!" Skylar exclaimed, laughing loudly.

         "Stop talking
nonsense," he replied, glaring at her.

         "Oh, come on. Out
with it. Who were you thinking about?" his sister gibed. "Come on,
tell me. I swear, I will never tell another soul. Hunter's honor. And, if I do,
then a lightning bolt shall strike me down!"

         Kyrian crossed his arms,
shaking his head effusively. "You can wait until you are blue in the face.
You won't get a word out of me."

         Skylar was totally
unimpressed. "Have it your way then. I already know, anyway," she
declared. With a roguish wink, she fled the room to head to her chambers.

         Kyrian jumped from his
armchair and ran after his sister. He caught up with her on the stairs, stepped
into her way and stretched his arms out to prevent her from leaving. "What
do you know?" he asked.

         Skylar beamed at him,
happily. "I know that you are in love with the blonde woman from the
funfair," she said. Ducking under his arms, she hurried giggling to her
room.

         Kyrian was hot on her
heels. "That's not true!" he shouted, angrily.

         Breathless, the girl
reached her chambers, which was illuminated by warm candlelight, and slipped
into her bed, adjusting the warm, soft covers over her tired body.

         Her brother sat down on
the bed's edge and scowled at her. "I am
not
in love with
Christine!" he declared, confidently.

         Skylar laughed. "Oh,
you even remembered her name. Now, I'm truly impressed."

         "You stop this
foolish talk, right now," he ordered, threateningly pointing his index
finger at her nose.

         "The more you deny
it, the more I know I'm right," she replied calmly.

         Kyrian was furious, his
face reddening. "What does a little smart-aleck like you know, anyway? You
have absolutely no idea what you are talking about. And now, stop with this
nonsense or..."

         Challenging him, his
sister arched her eyebrows and asked, "Or whaaaaaat?"

         Kyrian wracked his brain
for a suitable response to destroy Skylar's suspicions, but he couldn't come up
with one. "I don't know yet, but when I do, you had better pray to God to
have mercy on your tiny soul," he replied.

         Skylar couldn't help but
laugh, heartily. "Oooh, now I'm scared to death. Can you see how badly my
little knees are trembling?"

         Kyrian became aware of
his own very silly behavior and gave up. He couldn't contain a chuckle. Soon
after, he was laughing happily along with his sister."One day, you are
going to drive me insane, you little devil," he said and tenderly brushed
some hair off the girl's forehead.

         Silence fell in the
bedroom. After they had recovered from laughing, the light mood turned serious.
"It is so very late now, and Mama still isn't home yet. I'm starting to
worry a bit, because usually she tells us when it takes longer," Skylar
admitted quietly. "What if the vampire discovered her already?"

         A little pause followed,
while Kyrian searched for the right words to reassure his sister. "No,
don't think like that, little one. Mama can take very good care of herself, you
know that," he responded, trying to cheer her up.

         There was a little tremor
in Skylar's voice. "Yes, I know that. Still, I can't help but think
that..." she began, her voice breaking and tears gathering in her eyes.
"Papa died because of the vampires. I don't want to lose Mama, too."
A helpless, little sob escaped her chest.

         Faced with his sister's
tears, Kyrian felt his heart clench and pulled her into his arms. He consoled
her as best as he could, trying to calm her down. "Never fear,
Skylar," he whispered into her ear. "Nothing will happen to Mama. She
is the born huntress and will be back soon. Just wait and see."

         Reluctantly, and only due
to her brother's coaxing, Skylar lay back down.

         Kyrian adjusted the
covers around her tenderly. "Sleep now. Mama will be home soon. Now, if
you close your little eyes and go to sleep, I will show you how to use the
crossbow, tomorrow. Would you like that?"

         Skylar visibly relaxed
and had a hard time keeping her eyes open. "Is that a promise," she
asked sleepily.

         "You can bet it
is," he replied, smiling broadly. He rose and extinguished the candles,
one after the other. "Good night and sweet dreams, little one," he
whispered, left the room and gently closed the door behind him. Kyrian returned
to the dining room, once again sitting down in front of the fireplace.
Restlessly, he ran both his hands trough his long hair. "It really is
late. Where are you, Mama?"

*****

         The cast-iron oil lamp
swung under the low vault, creaking in the draft, which blew through the coarse
slits of the closed shutters.

         Chalice's gaze was glued
to the flickering flames that danced in the half bowl. She was deep in thought.
For hours she had gone through her Master's books and parchments, searching for
the mysterious lion head, which the little blonde girl from the festival wore
on the nape of her neck. Chalice was sure she had seen this sign somewhere in
Azrael's documents. Still, she hadn't been able to find it.

         Sighing, she looked at
the spread out documents in front of her. "Where is it? Where can it
be?" she asked, frustration evident in her voice. Chalice unfolded another
scroll and threw it furiously into a corner, as she couldn't detect anything of
use in it. A book followed this example. "I can't believe it's not
there!" she exclaimed angrily and tore at her hair.

         Her temper tantrum was
interrupted as a scratching sound that came from behind her.

         "My Master,"
she whispered, nearly breathless with anticipation. An evil grin formed on her
face. "He has awakened..."

         She jumped up from her
chair and headed to the coffin, which was set up in one of the room's corners.
Long and pale, bony fingers slipped through the small crack of the lid. Chalice
hurried to assist her Master, using all of her strength to push the heavy granite
lid to the side.

         The vampire opened his
eyes and rose gracefully from the black silk pillows, on which he had been
resting throughout the day. Taking his time, he adjusted his elegant clothes,
and his eyes darted around the room. With great disdain, he noticed the mess
his companion had caused among the records and documents he had collected over
the years.

         Azrael's angry eyes,
darker than usual, were fixed on Chalice's face. "What is the meaning of
this," he asked in a cold voice. "Why is there such chaos among my
belongings?" He walked to the table, gazing at the books and parchments
that were spread out, carelessly and sloppy.

         Chalice was overcome with
fear, because her master's fury was unpredictable. She wanted to beg for
forgiveness. "Master, I... please forgive me..." she stuttered,
trembling in fear. "Please, forgive the disorder... b-but, I was trying to
get information."

         The vampire looked at
her, questioningly. "Information? To serve what purpose?"

         "I... I want to know
about our enemies... Who they are..." Since she didn't have exact proof of
her suspicion, she didn't dare to tell him the truth. Reverently, she dropped
to her knees, crawled to him and hugged his legs.

         Tenderly, Azrael placed a
hand on her head and patted her soft hair. "I can understand that. But why
does the whole house look like a battle field? Why are my books and scrolls
scattered around, or lying in the corners?" Azrael grabbed Chalice's upper
arms hard and pulled her up to look directly into her eyes. "Why are you
doing that, when you know how much I despise disorder? You have jumbled up all
my investigation documents!" he screamed, outraged, increasing the
strength of his grip.

         Chalice wanted to cry out
from the pain, but she knew that would make him only more furious.
"Please, my Master, I didn't mean to cause such a mess. I will put
everything back where it belongs. It seems that I lost track of time, while I
was engrossed in the books," she tried to explain subdued, as she lowered
her gaze to the floor, shaking with fear.

         Azrael sighed.
"Well, you are forgiven. Make sure that it doesn't happen again. My
patience with you is beginning to wane."

         Chalice was happy to have
deflected his fury and released a relieved breath. "Oh, thank you very
much, my Master. You are always so nice to me..."

         "Enough!" he
interrupted her rudely, pushed her roughly away and sat down in a comfortable,
but chafed armchair. "So, you wanted to know about our enemies?"

         Chalice took her seat on
a low stool opposite Azrael and looked up at him. "Yes, my Master. What
can you tell me about the vampire hunters? Do they live in clans like the
vampires do? Have you met, or even killed some of them?" Chalice asked,
regarding him expectantly.

         Faced with the many
questions, Azrael grinned diabolically. "Of course. I have killed some of
those freaks. After all, they were out to kill my unique, immortal soul. But
none of these unworthy creatures succeeded. I triumphed over them all."