Legacy in Blood (Book 1 of The Begotten of Old Series) (22 page)

“I asked you, what do you want?” the man snapped, discarding the last remainders of courtesy.

Raise the barrier
, commanded Dalana.
And go change your shirt; people can smell you a kilometer away.

The guard shoved his muscular torso back into the booth like a sleepwalker. After a moment the barrier rose and Dalana’s Volvo entered the grounds of the community unimpeded. Humans of inferior intelligence were especially susceptible to suggestion – their minds resembled melted wax. The sweaty guard was even more primitive than Marisa Sukhostat’s partner – the one who had been taken by the amoeba creature.

Dalana’s car slowly drove past the blank wall that encircled Soigu’s mansion. Dalana did not doubt for a second that it was his home. She drew all the conclusions she needed to in just a few seconds, and then she drove on without stopping. A few houses later Dalana turned the car around and sped out of the community. The simple-minded meathead of a guard hadn’t even managed to lower the barrier.

Dalana drove to the highway and pushed the simple car to its maximum speed. New particulars had emerged over the past twenty four hours in relation to both her objectives. First, Dalana had finally found out all she needed to know about these ‘ghostbusters’ from the Coalition against supernatural forces. In particular, she had found out more about one of their best employees, Special Agent Marisa Sukhostat. The girl was reputed to be a dedicated vampire hunter who lived for her work. She had no family, nor any interests except those that revolved around CRUSS. The fortuneteller had also supplied her with a means of communication with Marisa that Dalana planned to use later. As for Soigu – it was a wretched affair. The few seconds she had spent coasting past his lair had been enough to sense the
thing
that lurked there. The creature guarding Soigu’s residence was born of the Underworld. A being that was in cahoots with such beasts was no less dangerous than those beasts. Dalana could well imagine what the consequences might be should she encounter the
Sentinel
that had taken to roaming the grounds of Soigu’s mansion. As a primitive creature, this native of the Underworld could not sense Dalana as she drove past the target’s house, but Dalana knew it would not go well with her if she entered the creature’s kill zone. Evidently, the
Sentinel
and Soigu had formed an alliance. It was difficult to imagine worse news.

Lost in these thoughts, Dalana realized it was a quarter to ten. Rather early for shopping. It would make sense to stop home and check if everything there was in order.

Luckily this time everything was relatively calm. Vasilisa was sitting in a chair with her chin cupped in her hands, watching television– a feature length animated masterpiece by Haio Miyazaki,
Spirited Away
.

“Tell me something,” said Vasilisa, not taking her eyes from the screen. “This director…how does he know such things? Spirits, Divinities, the other world…. Is he also Begotten of Old?”

“He’s a practitioner of Shinto,” said Dalana.

She walked across the room and settled herself in the neighboring chair.

“Does that mean that Shintoists know more than Christians?” asked Vasilisa.

“That’s not what I said,” Dalana hurried to object. “But if you are even slightly familiar with Shinto, you should know that their worldview encompasses far more answers to these questions than any other. Over the course of a thousand years, Shintoists came to believe that gods and spirits resided everywhere: in the rivers, in every tree, in every house and even in the kitchen. And that’s true, though in the modern world many humans live by the principle ‘I have to see it to believe it’, and sometimes also by ‘Even if I see it, I won’t believe it’. Humankind searches all things for the rational, diligently forcing out the intuitive and the unconscious. As for the director of this film, he could simply be a practitioner of Shinto. Or a genius. Or a Begotten of Old. It’s possible he’s a half-blood…there are many alternatives.”

“A Shintoist…a genius…a half-blood,” Vasilisa bit her lip pensively. “I don’t see the connection.”

“And you shouldn’t see.” Dalana shrugged her shoulders. “You are nothing more than a human that has lived on this earth a bit longer than usual.”

“And just how old are
you
?” asked the transmog sullenly.

“Oh,” Dalana laughed, shaking her hair. “Believe me, child, many, many years. So many that it is sometimes frightening.”

Vasilisa was staring at Dalana with a sort of childlike curiosity.

“The thaw has come,” Vasilisa said.

And then a thought arose in her mind, as always hurrying in advance of the words:
You finally showed me your fangs.

“And what was your impression?” asked Dalana, grinning.

“Very nice,” said Vasilisa briefly. “After all this time they’re still like new. You could sell toothbrushes.”

“Thanks, but I don’t think I’d enjoy that.”

“I don’t doubt it,” chuckled the transmog. “By the way, you promised to tell me about your world. Or have I still not merited the right to hear the mystery that lies behind the seven seals?”

“What are you interested in particularly?”

“Well, for example, I’d like to know what kinds of wondrous creatures populate your world. And also where does this world exist? Do you step beyond the mirror, and you’re there? Or is it some kind of mysterious Middle-Earth that’s not on any maps?”

“Slow down, don’t jump about so!” Dalana said, frowning. “One at a time. Let’s begin with the fact that my world is not on any map. In a broad manner, the issue has nothing to do with geography.”

“Ha, I knew it!” Vasilisa clapped her hands together, delighted at her own acumen. “To be honest with you, I once heard a story about your world. At that time I could make very little of it. I hope that now I’ll understand much more.”

“If you keep interrupting me, I won’t tell you anything,” threatened Dalana.

“Okay, okay, I’ll be quiet,” said the transmog quickly. “Wait, can’t you show me? I mean, can’t you just penetrate my mind with your telepathy…”

“I could, but I won’t. I’m afraid to pump too much information into your brain,” explained Dalana. “You couldn’t handle it – it would probably make you lose your mind.”

“Damn, that’s a pity!” exclaimed Vasilisa. “Well, we’ll just have to do it the old-fashioned way. I’ll try not to interrupt.”

At that moment the kitten paraded into the room. Casting a glance full of distrust at Dalana, she trotted towards the chair in which the girl was sitting. Without hesitating for a moment, she jumped up onto her lap, curled up into a ball and, closing her eyes, began purring in satisfaction.

Meanwhile, Vasilisa had turned off the television.

“The film, of course, is really great, but sad,” she commented. “But then, I don’t want to get sidetracked. I’m paying attention – tell me, please.”

The kitten was breathing evenly on Vasilisa’s lap.

“Returning to the organization of my world,” said Dalana. “Actually, it is not quite correct to apportion the expanses into the World of Humans and the World of the Begotten of Old. Such a division is conventional, but it does not mirror the reality. In reality, the world is divided into the Upper, Middle and Lower Worlds. There is also the Underworld, but about that a bit later. So, all these beyond the looking-glass worlds and Middle-Earths…”

“Sea-Worlds too…” injected Vasilisa.

“…are of course fabrications,” continued Dalana, as if she had not been interrupted. “Of all the concepts that humans have imagined over the last thousand years, the theory of dimensions is the closest to the truth. Humans, as well as altered humans, such as you, live in the Middle World and see only that which they see. Access to the other dimensions, that is, to the Upper and Lower worlds, is shut to you. I am in essence also a creature of the Middle World, but as a direct descendent of a Tengri, I am welcomed by the Upper as well as the Lower World. When I say welcomed, I mean that I can engage with creatures from these Worlds. But I cannot live there. To put it in bureaucratic terms – I don’t have clearance. The Edzeni are also creatures of the Middle World. You saw one of them that night in the forest. The Edzeni are children of the Khans and Noyans, grandchildren of the Tengri, and they, as opposed to me, can live in the Upper and Lower Worlds. They prefer the Upper, though.”

“That’s it, now my head is spinning,” said Vasilisa querulously.

“I warned you,” replied Dalana, smirking.

“My God, Upper, Middle, Lower…it’s crazy,” Vasilisa was literally clutching at her head. “And clearance – what are you talking about? Three Worlds…yes, he told me something about those…. The Edzeni, who are they really? And these Khans? And the – what were they called? Ten…

“Tengri,” prompted Dalana.

“Yes, that’s it! Tengri,” Vasilisa stroked the kitten. “Who are they?”

“That’s another issue entirely,” replied Dalana. “There is no end to those who were created on this earth, and all of them are different…”

“That I know,” declared Vasilisa importantly, again interrupting Dalana. “But the Tengri…”

“Well, in ancient times, humans honored the Tengri as the most powerful Gods,” explained Dalana. “Of course, in the Upper World there are creatures both more ancient and more powerful. But still, the might of the Tengri is very great.”

“Consequently, the Upper beings are Gods,” the girl scratched her head meditatively. “Mentor called them something else.”

“The one who transformed you?” said Dalana. “It’s possible that in his homeland they were called something else. The creatures of the Upper World bear many names in many languages.”

“That Fire spirit – was he from the Upper World?” asked Vasilisa in a conspiratorial whisper.

Dalana nodded.

“In the place where I was born, he is called Gal.”

“Where were you born?” It was an entirely logical question.

“You’re interested in everything, aren’t you,” smirked Dalana. “That place is now called Buryatia.”

“Oh,” said the girl. “Now I see, all the names are sort of Eastern! Edzen, Noyan. But you don’t really look Asian. Though, there is something vaguely Asiatic about you.”

“Asian, Asiatic – all these are recent words. Humans always try to simplify,” declared Dalana.

“Now I understand why you are distant and untouchable at times,” Vasilisa frowned thoughtfully. “Who wouldn’t be, knowing all the secrets of existence! How is it that you don’t get lost in all the names? I mean, you call that Fire spirit Gal, but someone else, in England for example, might call him Lucifer. Would he still understand and appear?”

“You, naturally, are simplifying things as much as you can,”‘ sniffed Dalana. “The trend of your thoughts is basically correct, but in the future try not to squeeze everything into one box. Think. Use your brains. To be sure, the creatures of the Upper World were born far earlier than I was and, believe me, I was born far before the emergence of humans. In those times, all creatures spoke as one. Since those times everything has changed more than once, but you can take my word for it, even now the Khan of Fire heeds summons addressed to him regardless of where or by whom they are delivered – whether it is some wandering kami scaling on the heights of a Tokyo skyscraper or a shaman from an obscure village at the headwaters of the Angara.”

“Okay,” Vasilisa said slowly, sounding doubtful.

“The appearance of human languages was not a problem,” continued Dalana. “In some circumstances human language is even a solution; it simplifies things.”

“What circumstances, I wonder,” the girl blurted out. “How about when you want to have sex with someone? There really can’t be a better way than the English ‘wanna fuck?’ – can there?”

“Your thinking is far too narrow,” growled Dalana. “You must learn to look at things from a different angle.”

“Did you learn that?” asked Vasilisa darkly.

Dalana caught her gaze – the direct, profound gaze of an old woman tired of life.

“I’m learning. Still,” replied Dalana.

“Live a century, learn a century, right? By the way, I’ve always considered Asians the most beautiful women.”

These words were uttered through the lips of an adolescent girl whose eyes were bright with mischief.

“I’m flattered,” said Dalana.

“Tell me, that God – the one from the forest – why did he look like a raven?”

“Because humans and animals were formed in the image and likeness of certain Begotten of Old. And for this very reason, many Begotten of Old have the ability to assume the appearance of humans and animals, or rather to pass as a human or an animal. The appearance is actually a shell. It’s all interconnected, like the evaporation-precipitation cycle. Do you understand?”

“Wait, wait,” Vasilisa exclaimed fearfully. “What do you mean by
formed
? Like in a laboratory?”

Dalana twiddled her fingers at her temple.

“Read less science fiction.
How exactly
each living creature came to this earth – I do not know. I already said that I’ve never been to the Upper World.”

“Well, alright,” said the girl. “But are they mortal, these beings from the Upper World?”

“Some are,” confessed Dalana. “Some are mortal only in their shells. And there are some who are immortal.”

Vasilisa was deep in thought, trying to prepare her next line of attack.

“Well, so what is the Underworld?” she asked and shifted in her chair, unable to contain her nervous curiosity. The kitten’s ears twitched restlessly in its sleep.

“It’s better that you don’t know,” said Dalana.

“Why?” wondered Vasilisa.

“Because there are beasts living there that it is best not to think on.”

“Like the troll from the basement?”

“Much worse,” said Dalana.

Vasilisa shivered.

“Well, alright, we won’t talk about it,” consented the girl, but she immediately began a new series of questions.

“So, does Gal have children? And in what manner do these creatures beget children?”

“That’s it,” said Dalana roughly. “Enough. Go and amuse yourself with something.”