The Bride of the Immortal (51 page)

“Mhm,” she said, without explanation.

“I am,” he whispered confused.

Carefully Mairin slipped off his lap, making him wonder if he had said something wrong.

“Don’t go. It’s alright.”

Mairin shook her head and tugged at his clothes.

“Won’t you… won’t you take them off?” she finally asked.

Adrijan gazed at her in surprise. He welcomed the thought of getting yet closer to her but he also feared that she wouldn’t like what she was going to see.

“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have… Just forget-“ Mairin was mumbling and turned away from him in embarrassment.

“No, no, that’s not it,” he assured her and got up from the swing, slowly, so Mairin wouldn’t be afflicted by it.

After taking two steps Adrijan halted in front of the glass window of the balcony and hesitantly started to undress, conscious that Mairin’s gaze was resting on him. It was strange how a simple task like this could suddenly become very difficult when done in the presence of an audience.

Awkwardly he slipped out of his shoes and threw a glance over his shoulder to see if Mairin was still following his movements. Their eyes met and undoubtedly having noticed his embarrassment Mairin got up from the swing to join him. She had left the duvet behind and Adrijan hastily turned back out of reflex of not being allowed to look. Two adorned arms soon found their way around his chest and he could feel her softly push her body against his.

“I’d help,” she whispered, “but I’m afraid I have no idea where to start.”

Adrijan silently laughed in view of the bizarre situation and gently loosened her embrace.

“That’s alright. I just hope you won’t be appalled.”

Mairin drew back her hands and a few moments later her shirt landed in front of his feet on the floor. The image her action conjured in his head made him swallow.

“Don’t look… yet.”

“Mhm,” he assured her and continued to undress with newfound motivation. He let piece after piece fall to the ground, covering the shirt Mairin had borrowed from Vivian until its white colour had been swallowed up completely by the blackness of his own clothes. In the end he was only wearing his shorts and stood there, gazing at the rest of his garments as if they were the skin of his past self. Never again would he put on a cassock and a white collar shirt.

Mairin’s arms returned to embrace him, even more gently than before and Adrijan decided not to spend more thoughts on the matter. Clearly there was another topic at hand.

“Where are you taking me?”

“I told you,” Vivian grumbled.

“It’s dark,” Engelin reminded him for the fifth time. “It’s cold and dark.”

Since they had passed the gate to the underground passage the girl’s pronounced self-confidence had shrunk drastically and she had become increasingly jumpy.

“Do you want to head back,
my queen
?”

Engelin disregarded his question and they continued their way to the ‘Sanctuary’ in silence. He stepped into the elevator before the girl and quietly yawned while they were taken to the upper floor. The doors opened in front of him and after exiting the narrow space, Vivian stepped aside to make room for Engelin.

“This is Magdala Anfarwol,” he announced sternly, gesturing at the masterpiece that welcomed them.

He expected to hear an unpleasant, cheeky comment at any moment, yet even after several seconds had passed, Engelin hadn’t made a sound.

“Is she so beautiful that words are failing you?”

Was it the likeness to Engelin’s mother that had such an impact on the girl?

“Magdala Anfarwol… the only woman you’ve ever loved?” Engelin’s quiet voice was quivering.

“Mhm.”

A clattering sound caught Vivian’s attention and drew his gaze to a spot behind him, where, upon turning around, he discovered a big kitchen-knife on the floor.

He gasped in sheer disbelief and automatically stepped away from Engelin.

There were traces of blood on the blade as well as on the handle and looking closely, he even thought to be able to make out more of them on the girl’s dress. Engelin neither paid attention to him nor to the blood and steadily walked past him to Magdala’s statue. A shiver went down Vivian’s spine as the child stepped on her toes and let her blood stained fingers run over the beautiful copy of Magdala’s face.

Once he had regained control of his limbs he immediately rushed to the girl’s side. In her trancelike state Engelin had lowered her arms and was gazing at Magdala through big, empty eyes.

“Engelin? Girl, snap out of it!” Vivian gently shook her by her shoulders and eventually she seemed to recover.

Unbelievingly she looked at the palm of her right hand, where Vivian discovered a long cut as source of blood. Tears were rolling down Engelin’s face and before he could stop her she had raised her hand and smeared red colour over her cheek and forehead.

“The same…” she mumbled.

“The same? Did this happen before?”

Vivian knew that it was in vain to wait for an answer and reached for Engelin’s hand to get a better look at the wound. The girl though evaded his grip and sobbing heavily threw herself into his arms.

Adrijan gently traced one of the silvery lines on Mairin’s arm with his finger, waiting for her to raise the topic.

“These scars… are they…”

“Mhm. They’re from back then.”

“But why didn’t they…”

“Heal? I’m not sure. Let me put some clothes back on,” he said and bent down to pick up the short-sleeved undershirt.

Mairin strengthened her grip around his body, not letting him. He halted and she slightly pulled back her arms.

“Should I step back? Does it hurt?”

“Hm? Oh, no. It feels strange if you apply pressure to some of the scars but it doesn’t hurt. I’m afraid it doesn’t look very appealing though.”

“Could you… turn around? It’s not that I don’t want to see them I just-”

“It’s fine,” he assured her and followed her wish. There were plenty of scars on both sides anyway.

Mairin inhaled deeply when she saw the rest of them and gently put her right hand on his heart. From there she slowly moved her fingers over his chest as if she were reading a map that was frail from decay.

“It makes me angry to see them,” she said. “There are so many…”

Adrijan noticed her pained voice and took her hand into his.

“…and these are only the visible ones,” she added quietly, apparently forgetting that he was able to listen.

“It’s all in the past,” he tried to comfort her. “I’ve spent centuries with most. Only two or three scars are younger than the rest.”

Unintentionally his gaze fell on his arm where he had recently acquired a new one by protecting her.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“Oh, no I…“ Lost for words he started to play with the ring on Mairin’s finger. Abruptly she drew back her hand.

“Ah, I’ll take it off.”

He had upset her again.

“You don’t have to,” he said and reached for it, trying to stop her. “Doesn’t it fit perfectly to your necklace?”

Mairin doubled her efforts to remove the trinket and after their clumsy attempts to hinder each other it fell to the floor with a
pling
. Aware that he was partly to blame he sheepishly gazed at Mairin who bore a similar expression of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” Adrijan said after a moment of awkward silence and clapped his hands three times to increase the brightness of the lighting. A moment later he was already crouching down and searching the ground for the piece of jewellery.

It was lying at Mairin’s feet, not far from the pile of clothes and relieved of having found it so soon he picked it up. Pensively he looked at the engraving on its inside.

“
Adrijan & Mairin. Finally
…” he read.

“Huh?” Adrijan was confused. “But that’s not what I ordered…”

“
Adrijan
and Mairin?”

“That’s what it says,” he explained. “Vivian must have changed the order… the sly old fox.”

Mairin chuckled. “Somehow it isn’t completely unexpected. Just like the fact that it was you who chose that special design.”

Adrijan was embarrassed about the hidden compliment and got up from the floor. The engraving was a surprise but not half as interesting as the fact that Mairin was standing in front of him almost naked. In the increased light his eyes had started to wander over her body and he felt bad about the consequences.

His look had been enough to make her feel self-conscious again and she had crossed her arms in front of her chest and averted her gaze.

“Ah...” Adrijan gasped and after quickly dimming the lighting he sheepishly peeled her right hand from her arm.

“It’s not something I’m proud of but I think I should tell you how envious I’ve been of Vivian all day. I’ve seen all of his brides and never cared… but when I saw you in your wedding dress – I swear to God I got the impulse to strangle him.”

The corner’s of Mairin’s mouth twitched as she suppressed a smile.

“What a thing to say for a priest,” she mumbled unbelievingly, still covering herself with one arm.

“Former priest,” he corrected her and nervously cleared his throat.

“May I put the ring on your finger?” he asked carefully.

Mairin nodded, finally allowing the smile to appear on her lips. Adrijan put the ring where it belonged and drew Mairin close.

Even someone as inexperienced as he noticed Mairin’s reluctance to become more intimate again. Not wanting to force her into anything he sat down with her on the swing and gently embraced her. He had decided that he would just hold her in his arms until everything else was coming naturally.

Vivian shook his head to stay awake. Curing Engelin’s cut with the hour glass had taken its toll on him. Aware that it could prove fatal to give in to his exhaustion, and hoping that it would help him to endure, he had lowered himself to the floor.

It had taken a long time for Engelin’s tears to ebb away and after repeating the hateful prayer for a while she had finally fallen asleep, mulcting him of a chance to get answers to all his questions.

Vivian continuously rocked back and forth, trying to ignore his pounding headache and focusing on the movement to lower the chance of falling into a doze. Sitting on the ground he had started to grow cold and he was glad for the warmth Engelin’s shawl and her small body granted him.

Then his eyes closed.

Vivian flinched.

Certainly it had only been for a moment but he had to try to find something to keep his thoughts occupied.

Desperate to stay awake he let his gaze wander from the knife on the floor to Magdala’s statue.

Both had been stained by the child’s blood.

Blood…

Vivian’s mind was clouded by a thick mist, not allowing one thought to find another and causing them to helplessly roam his head like men lost on the moor.

In this state, in which he knew he was close to losing his consciousness, the marks on Magdala’s perfect face looked like traces of dark-red tears.

Vivian squinted.

Were they still trailing down her cheek? He had to comfort her.

“Magdala…” he gasped.

“Vivian?” Engelin muttered silently. He had disrupted the child’s sleep due to his delusional imagination.