Bloodliner (21 page)

 

*****

 

Chapter 54

As time raced past at ever-increasing speeds, Stanza held on to Jonah's hand with both her own.

The two of them sat cross-legged on the floor of Hercules' temple, face to face, as the time-travel mold wore off. Instead of just fading away, as Mavis and Arthur had, they went nowhere...and history flashed forward around them.

No one else could see them, though many people moved around and through their astral forms. No one could hear them, either, though they shouted at fast-forward figures as they flickered past. It was down to just the two of them, holding on to each other in the eye of a Keystone Kops universe.

Day-night-day-night-day-night-day.
When the whirl of movement became too much for Jonah, he fixed his gaze on Stanza, staring into her eyes.

And he saw something there that he'd missed before.
She's afraid.

Jonah couldn't believe it. He'd seen Stanza face one nightmare after another without flinching. But there it was. Not big, not bright, but real.

Real fear.

And the fact that it was there at all, so out of place in the eyes of one so fearless, simply scared the shit out of Jonah. "What's wrong?" he said.

"Don't let go," said Stanza.

"What?" said Jonah. "Why?"

"Any minute now." Stanza took a deep breath and released it. "Get ready."

"For what?" said Jonah.

Suddenly, the house shook around them. The day turned dark, and people ran past, screaming. Their speeded-up voices sounded like chipmunks from an old cartoon.

Vases and statues toppled and smashed in the quake. Dust and chips of plaster sifted down from above...and then, the ceiling collapsed on top of an old man. No one stopped to help him.

Jonah felt Stanza's grip tighten. She closed her eyes and took more deep breaths.
Now I know what's coming. I know what she's afraid of.

"It's Mount Vesuvius," he said. "It's erupting."

Stanza nodded. "We're about to be buried alive for seventeen-hundred years."

*****

 

Chapter 55

The multicolored ribbons of light in the otherverse seemed to glow more brightly when Arthur caressed Mavis' face.

"You're a beauty," he said. "I can't deny it."

Mavis' skin tingled where he touched her, from temple to cheek to chin. Though she was adrift in an otherworldly expanse, with only Arthur's word as proof that she would get home, she still found it easy to give herself over completely to the moment.

Maybe it was
because
of their surroundings that she and Arthur were finding the moment. The place was timeless and serene, flowing with light and color. It was warm and soothing, filled with a sweet smell like summertime air after a rainstorm. All around, there was a constant hum interlaced with a sound like the tinkling of bells. Wherever they were, it was magical. Mavis was in no hurry to leave.

Arthur smiled and stroked the hair on her forehead. "Such a lovely face," he said. "Such perfect, glittering eyes. Merlin himself, with all his magicks, could not have conjured such an angel."

Mavis couldn't remember when she'd ever been so happy. Finally, the man she loved was telling her the things she'd longed to hear.

This is what it's all been leading up to. Losing my church and being attacked by vampires was a blessing in disguise.

"You are precious to me, Mavis," said Arthur. "You are the real reason I left Lyonesse."

Thank you, God. Oh, thank you for this.

"From the moment we met, I felt a connection." Arthur brushed a lock of hair behind Mavis' ear. "As if I had always known you. Always been with you."

Maybe I can have a happy ending after all. A happy ending with the man I love.

"I feel the same way." Mavis ran a fingertip down Arthur's nose and stopped at his lips. "I think we were meant to be together."

Arthur kissed her fingertip. Mavis shivered with pure happiness.

But it didn't last.

Arthur kissed her finger once more, then frowned.

"What's wrong?" said Mavis.

"I love you." Arthur's voice was strained.

He said it. He finally said it!

"There's nothing wrong with that." Mavis smiled and leaned up to whisper in his ear. "I love you, too."

Arthur shook his head. "But it
is
wrong," he said. "I'm a vampire."

"You're a hero," said Mavis. "And a king. You're one of the good guys."

"One of the guys who drinks blood," said Arthur.

"I don't care about that." Mavis locked eyes with him. "It doesn't matter."

"Believe me, it does," said Arthur. "Our worlds don't mix. One way or another, I'll hurt you."

Mavis shook her head hard. "No." She combed her fingers through his wavy red hair. "You'd never hurt me."

Arthur sighed. "When Merlin made me a vampire, he told me the gift would be worth any price. For a while, I thought he was right.

"But not for always." Arthur stared into the distance. "I have paid the price many times. Those I've loved have come to harm because of me." A single tear ran down his face.

Mavis couldn't stop tears of her own from falling, too.
I understand now.

Finally, the vision made sense. The one she'd had while drowning on the way out of Lyonesse.

Reaching up, she stroked Arthur's brow. "There's a way," she said softly. "A way for us to be together."

"No there isn't," said Arthur.

Mavis smiled. "When we get home," she said, "I want you to make me a vampire."

 

*****

 

Chapter 56

The mud was up to their chests now.

Jonah and Stanza still sat face to face in the same temple in Herculaneum. They moved forward through time at a high rate of speed, years passing in minutes.

But how long could anyone bear to be buried in volcanic mud? It would cover them completely in moments. Jonah and Stanza existed as immaterial astral forms, so the mud wouldn't hurt them physically...but physical damage wasn't the kind of damage that worried Jonah.

"Don't let go." Stanza said it more like a plea than an order. "You're not worried, are you?"

"I'm okay," said Jonah. "It can't hurt us."

Stanza didn't look like she believed him. She stared nervously at the steaming mud as it topped her shoulders and climbed her throat.

Jonah knew she couldn't feel it any more than he could. They were both ghosts, able only to feel each other as the world shot past around them.

But he understood her fear. He shared it.
We're being buried alive.

The mud was almost up to their chins. "Close your eyes," said Jonah. "Don't open them till I say so." He felt strange being the one giving the orders for a change.

It wasn't an issue with Stanza. "We'll be all right," she said, looking frantically from side to side. "We'll be fine."

"Absolutely." Jonah said it with perfect certainty. If they'd been wearing their physical bodies, the superheated muck would have already killed them. The simple fact that they were still sitting there talking meant that they would survive.

As the mud rose, Stanza craned her neck to keep her face clear for a few extra seconds. "Time's flying," she said. "It won't feel like seventeen hundred years at all."

She's trying to convince herself more than me.

"Okay, listen," said Jonah. "Close your eyes
right now
, Stanza."

"Oh my God!" Stanza's voice crackled with panic. "Oh my God!"

"Close your eyes!" Jonah snapped out the order and squeezed her hands hard. "Do it now!"

Just before the mud closed over Stanza's face, she finally did as he told her. Then, the mud closed over Jonah's face, too.

And all he saw was darkness.

*****

 

Chapter 57

Arthur cupped Mavis' chin in his hand. "I will never do it." He shook his head sadly. "I will never turn you into a vampire."

Mavis frowned. "How can you say that?"

Interlaced streamers of red and gold light swirled around Arthur like a fiery halo as he gazed at her. "I will never subject you to such suffering."

"You don't think I've already suffered in my life?" said Mavis.

"This..." Arthur touched the place where his heart should have been. "...isn't life, Mavis. It's a mockery. A prison."

"You're wrong," said Mavis. "You act more alive than anyone I've ever met."

"I put on a brave face," said Arthur. "Make no mistake, my existence is a horror. The dark deeds I've inflicted on the world, just to survive." His expression hardened. "Abominations. The drinking of blood. Vile murder. Spreading my sickness. You cannot imagine."

Mavis shook her head. "You're
King
Arthur
. The good you've done outweighs the bad."

"Mavis." Arthur locked eyes with her. "I've always sought to slake my thirst with the blood of the wicked...but the wicked are not always in good supply." His eyes narrowed. "Do you understand?"

"I understand the kind of man you are." Mavis stroked his furrowed brow, working to press away his scowl. "I know you've made up a thousandfold for whatever you've done wrong."

"There can be no penance for some crimes," said Arthur. "No forgiveness. No redemption."

"I don't believe that."

"You would!" Arthur's voice grew heated. "If you could but see what I've done, you would be first in line to condemn me, woman of God!"

I won't let him push me away
. "I love you," said Mavis, "and nothing will ever change that."

"Love is the most fragile thing of all!" said Arthur. "It is
spun glass
in a world of
hammers.
It is a single
breath
in a
gale.
A
dream
, a
flash
, a
whisper
.

"This is the
first
lesson you learn as a vampire. It is a lesson you learn
over
and
over
again. Love cannot
help
but break!"

Mavis stared at him, sensing the untold layers of pain and regret behind his eyes. There was so much under the surface, Arthur would make an iceberg look like an ice cube.

Faced with such depths of suffering, Mavis knew only one thing for certain: she would love him no matter what.

And she knew one other thing, too.
He needs me.

"Listen." She focused her gaze intently on him. "We will be together."

Arthur leaned away from her. "Let's talk about something else now."

Suddenly, Mavis swung up a hand and lashed it across his face. It was like slapping a block of granite. Arthur didn't flinch a bit, though he did stare at her with shocked indignation.

Mavis felt almost as surprised as Arthur looked. She watched his reaction, then drew a deep breath. "Listen to me, Arthur." Her voice was tight with emotion. "You don't understand the situation here." She grabbed the front of his shirt and hauled him close. "You seemed to think I was
asking
to be with you." She gave him a shake. "You were
wrong
.

"I was
telling
you," said Mavis, and then she lunged forward, pressing her lips against his.

Arthur didn't push her away.

And though the two of them were only disembodied astral forms, adrift in an ethereal slipstream with its own strange physical laws, that first kiss still felt as wonderful as Mavis had imagined.
More
wonderful.

And when their drift through the slipstream ended, and they flowed back into their bodies like wine into glasses, she still tasted the salt of his skin on her lips.

*****

 

Chapter 58

Time had stopped dead.

That was what it felt like in the temple in Herculaneum. Time might have been rocketing past just as fast as before in the outside world, propelling Jonah and Stanza into the future, but the mud under which they were buried seemed to be timeless.

"Jonah?" At least he could still hear Stanza and feel her hands holding onto his own. "Are you still okay?"

Now, if they could just see each other...or see anything at all. No light could penetrate the dozens of feet of solidified mud above them. As ghosts, they were immune to the pressure of geology and could open their eyes and look around all they wanted...but all they saw in every direction was pitch darkness.

"I'm fine," said Jonah. "How about you?"

"Not big on being buried alive," said Stanza. "Even in my astral form." She let out a nervous laugh. "You'd think I'd know better."

"No, no." Jonah gave her hands a squeeze. "It's understandable. This is pretty disorienting."

"Good word for it," said Stanza. "Better than the ones I was coming up with."

They both fell silent then. A long moment passed, taking with it who knew how many years in the fast-forward world beyond the mud.

"So," Stanza said finally. "It would help if we kept talking." She cleared her throat. "It would help me. With the buried alive thing."

"Okay then," said Jonah.

"Tell me about your band," said Stanza.

Jonah squeezed her hands. "How about if we talk about
you
for a change?"

Stanza's voice stiffened. "What do you want to know?"

Jonah's heart pounded; after weeks of evasion and secrets, it was the question he'd been dying to hear from her.
What do you want to know?

He sat for a moment, wondering where to begin. He wanted to know
everything
, of course. He had a million questions...but he decided to start with the first that came to mind.

"When Hercules called you Helen," said Jonah, "and he said something about Troy...did he mean he thought you were
the
Helen?"

"Yes," said Stanza.

Jonah took a deep breath and slowly released it. "So
were
you? Were you really...
her
?"

"Helen of Troy?" said Stanza. "Yes."

"And you knew Arthur, too? When he was King Arthur, in Camelot?"

"I've led many lives." Stanza's voice sounded distant. "I've lived a long time."

"How long?" said Jonah. "You said at least a thousand years...but if you were around during the Trojan War, that would make you..."

"Really, really old." Stanza sighed. "Sometimes, I feel like I've been alive forever."

"Have you?" said Jonah.

"I don't know," said Stanza. "There's a lot I don't remember."

"You don't know how old you are?"

"Or where I'm from, or who my parents were," said Stanza. "There are whole lifetimes I don't remember. Big gaps in my memory. Sometimes, I get flashes of them in my dreams, but never the whole picture."

"But why?" said Jonah. "What happened to block your memory?"

"I have no idea." Suddenly, Stanza's hands began to shiver in Jonah's grip. "One thing I do remember, though. I was buried alive once when I was young."

"That's awful," said Jonah. "What happened?"

"Someone set me free," said Stanza. "But not for a long time. That's why...you know..."

Jonah squeezed her hands to stop them from shaking. "I'm here. Right here."

"I feel like I never got out." Stanza's voice was edging toward panic again. "Like I only dreamed I was free, and I just woke up and I'm still trapped right back where I started."

"You got out," said Jonah. "And you'll be free again before you know it. Trust me."

"What if you're a figment of my imagination?" Stanza stopped shaking, and her voice grew eerily calm. "What if I've lost my mind?"

"You haven't." Even as he said it, Jonah realized it wasn't enough. He had to try harder.
Take her mind off the fear.
"Something happened to me when I was young, too."

"What was it?" Stanza still sounded much too calm.

"My brothers were abducted," said Jonah. "Both of them. Right in front of me."

"That's awful," said Stanza. "How old were they?"

"Ten," said Jonah. "I was thirteen. They were taken right out of our bedroom, and I didn't save them. I froze."

"Who took them?" said Stanza.

"A man," said Jonah. "I didn't see his face. He came in through the window at night and took them."

Stanza squeezed his hands. "You were just a kid. It wasn't your fault."

Jonah sighed. "I'll never get it out of my head. The way they screamed...and I just stood there. I couldn't move a muscle. It was the last time I ever saw them."

"Maybe you'll see them again someday," said Stanza.

"And have to explain why I let them get taken away?" said Jonah. "God, I hope not."

"We've all done things we regret," said Stanza. "Things that have come back to haunt us. Even if only in our dreams." Her hands started shaking again.

"So the things you don't remember about your life," said Jonah. "Do you
want
to remember them?"

"Yes," said Stanza. "It's why I became a bloodliner. It's why I search people's pasts and trace their family histories. Because I want to know
my
history. Because I
need
to know it."

"What if you're better off
not
knowing?" said Jonah.

"No," said Stanza. "It's
my life
. I'll
never
give up."

Jonah sat quietly for a moment, choosing his next words with care. "Is that what you get out of helping me? Other than the money? You're trying to fill in the gaps?"

"There's much more to it than that," said Stanza. "There's a bigger picture involved."

Jonah frowned. "What kind of bigger picture?"

"It might not matter." Stanza's voice shook. "If something goes wrong, we could end up trapped like this forever..."

"It'll be all right," said Jonah. "I have a feeling."

Stanza's nervous breaths were short and quick in the darkness. "It keeps rising up over me. I push the fear away, and it keeps coming back."

"But you're not alone," said Jonah. "We'll get through it together."

"Or be
trapped forever
together."

"It's not so bad when you have someone to help you through it," said Jonah. "Someone who cares about you."

He folded his hands around hers and squeezed for emphasis.

Suddenly, Stanza pulled away. She surprised him, darting her hands from his grasp.

Shit! Why did I say that?
"Stanza?"

She didn't answer.

Jonah peered into the absolute darkness but of course saw nothing. He swept his hands around, feeling for her, and came up empty.

"Stanza?" he said. "I'm sorry."

The sound of his own voice was the only thing he heard. No reply. Not even a sound of life.

"Seriously, Stanza. I didn't mean to upset you."

Still nothing. Was she even there at all?

"Stanza?"

Again, Jonah swiped at the darkness and found nothing.

Then, just as he was giving up, Stanza's hand latched onto his wrist.

"I'm glad you're here." Her voice was shaky but not panicky anymore. "Thank you."

"Any time," said Jonah.

Just then, the first bit of light broke the darkness.

Looking up, Jonah saw a tiny hole that quickly grew larger. Dark-haired men set on fast-forward speed removed the hardened mud with hammers and chisels and brushes, excavating what was now an archaeological dig.

Within years that raced past in minutes, the men had worked down to Jonah and Stanza, clearing the ground to the ghosts' eye level.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Jonah saw Stanza, still facing him. Her eyes—one hazel, the other amber flecked with red—met his.

She was smiling, and her cheeks were wet with tears.