Like Fire Through Bone (6 page)

Vasilios ducked through the gate and made his way across the courtyard. Phyllis opened the door for him. She led him down the hall to the same receiving room he’d been in earlier.

“Vasilios Eleni for you,” she said, swinging the door open.

Vasilios took two steps into the room and dropped to his knees. He placed his hands on the floor and bent forward so his forehead nearly touched the cool tile. “I am so, so sorry, my lord General Markos, for disturbing you at this early hour, and I beg that you will forgive me for anything I am about to say and know that I throw myself at your mercy, but I could not see clear to act in any other way.” He realized after the speech had tumbled out that he was talking too fast, the words sliding and running together.

“Vasilios.” Markos’s deep voice was tinged with confusion. “Calm yourself and stand up, please.”

Vasilios found he was shaking again when he got to his feet, and he flinched when a warm hand grasped his arm.

“Come.” Markos’s voice was soothing and gentle. “Sit down.”

Vasilios opened his mouth to object and apologize again, but Markos was already leading him over to the couch. He pushed Vasilios down and then sat in the chair opposite.

“Now,” Markos said, voice still gentle, “tell me what has brought you all the way out here this early in the morning and in such a state.”

Vasilios’s hands flew to the scarf he still wore up over his head and then down across his long tunic. He realized for the first time that morning, nothing he was wearing matched and he looked as if he’d randomly pulled each piece from his clothes chest without thinking, which to be fair he had. He clenched his hands in his lap to stop from flushing in mortification. Here he was, doing nothing to uphold his image as the calm and collected castratos, and in front of Markos too.

“I….” He twisted the fine wool of his tunic between his fingers, then forced himself to look up at Markos and not to flinch away. “For the last several nights, I have had recurring dreams of a creature cloaked in darkness who stole into people’s homes and took their children.” He swallowed the bile that tried to rise at the memory of what the creature did to the children afterward.

“I see.” Markos folded his hands in front of him and carefully watched Vasilios. “And you came to me.”

Vasilios took a breath. “I have heard of the children who have been going missing through the city,” he said. “Based on what I knew of the situation, and what your aide, Patros, said to you while I was here that first time, I believe you are either involved in the investigation of these children’s disappearances or are well placed to know those who are.”

“And you think your dreams are connected how?” Markos asked, his expression unreadable but not, Vasilios thought, unkind. Vasilios took another deep, calming breath, his hands clenching in the wool covering his lap.

“These dreams are like none I have ever had before. They are more vivid and terrifying,” he said. “I think there is a chance I might be seeing whoever or whatever is taking these children, and what it does with them afterward.” He let his gaze drop to the floor and waited for Markos to either confirm or deny it.

“And what does this creature in your dreams do with the children?” Markos asked, leaning forward toward Vasilios.

“It eats them.” Vasilios’s voice was low enough to be almost a whisper. “While they are still alive.” His stomach churned, and his hands began to shake even harder at the memory of the dream.

Markos was quiet for a long moment as Vasilios looked at the floor, tracing the outline of blue and white tiles with his eyes and waiting.

Markos finally sat back and looked away. Then he turned back to Vasilios. “Now, of everything you have told me, that is one detail you could not have found out any other way. I have suppressed the information ruthlessly, so as not to cause widespread panic.” He shook his head. “I am going to have to swear you to secrecy regarding this. Understand that the punishment for breaking that oath will be death.”

Vasilios looked up at Markos, trying to make his mind catch up to what he was hearing. “So you think these dreams really are… really are prophetic?”

“Yes.” Markos ran his fingers through his short gray hair so it stood on end, and Vasilios wanted to reach over and smooth it back down. Markos stood and made his way to the doorway, said a few words to Phyllis outside, then returned to Vasilios.

He sat in the chair again and turned to Vasilios. “Tell me everything in these dreams you’ve been having.”

Vasilios nodded and then took a breath. “The creature is cloaked in darkness,” he started. “The only parts of it I could make out clearly were the hands and the mouth. The skin of the hands was gray and stretched like that of a corpse, and the lips around the mouth had rotted away. The creature’s teeth were pointed and yellowed. It would touch the mother’s eyes before taking the child, I think to keep her asleep.” He took another breath. “The babies were afraid of it, they would cry and scream when it touched them, and it didn’t seem to be stopped by locked doors or walls.”

Phyllis pushed open the door then, and set a tray down on the table. As it had been during Vasilios’s first visit, an urn of tea and cups were on the tray and several small plates with fruit, cheese, and fresh bread. Vasilios’s stomach heaved at the idea of food, and he lowered his gaze to his lap so he wouldn’t have to look at it.

“Here.” Markos pressed a cup into his hand, and it didn’t smell like the strong, honey-sweet tea Vasilios was used to. “Are you going to be ill? The tea will help.”

“I’m sorry,” Vasilios said, voice barely above a whisper, and he took an obedient sip of the tea. It was lighter and green, with a hint of sharpness, and it did help settle his stomach a bit.

“Don’t apologize,” Markos said. “What you have witnessed is horrible, and I am truly sorry God chose you for this.”

Vasilios clenched his hand around the delicate cup, fighting back the fear that rose up inside of him at the idea that any God would choose him for anything. “In my last dream,” he said, licking his lips and trying to collect himself, “the creature took the child to someplace dark and cool.” He thought about it a little harder, trying to eke out any detail that might be important. “The air felt moist, and I think the room was made out of stone, the floor certainly was. And then….” He took a breath. “Then the creature devoured the child.”

Vasilios closed his eyes as if that would somehow block out the all-too-clear memory. Fingers brushed against his clenched hands, and he couldn’t stop from flinching away.

“I am sorry,” Markos said again, and Vasilios shook his head.

“Why? It is not your fault.”

“I would not have wished witnessing something like that on anyone,” Markos said, his voice filled with so much compassion that Vasilios had to look away.

With his nerves already frayed to the breaking point, he was not sure he could handle Markos’s kindness, and he’d already felt enough like a fool without doing something like bursting into tears.

“Vasilios, if you have any more of these dreams, I need you to contact me immediately. Send a message if you must, but I would prefer if you came yourself, like you did today,” Markos said. “You can come here at any time, you understand, no matter how early or late. I just need you to come here right away, as soon as you have the
seeing
. Time is of the essence with this, you understand?”

Vasilios nodded, taking another sip of tea, trying to calm his nerves. “Of course. If I have another dream, I’ll come see you at once.”

“Good.” Markos touched his hand again briefly, and this time Vasilios managed not to flinch. “Also, there’s someone I would like you to meet. I’m going to contact him this morning and will send a message telling you when you should come.”

Vasilios’s fingers clenched around the teacup. “It’s not the Bishop, is it?”

Markos looked startled and then laughed. It was a rich, deep sound that made Vasilios’s stomach heat pleasantly, even under these conditions. It also made those fine lines appear around Markos’s eyes again. “God love you, no.” Markos sobered, but the smile remained, turning up the corners of his lips. “I will be telling the Bishop what you told me, in detail, but I doubt he’ll be interested in meeting you in person. No, the person I am thinking of is a close friend, and I have been relying on his advice quite a lot in this matter.” He ran his fingers through his hair again, causing it to stand on end and making Vasilios’s fingers itch to put it right.

“All right.” Vasilios took another drink of tea. He wished he knew what he should do, but this was so far from the normal course of his life that all his training seemed to have deserted him.

“Stay here.” Markos’s fingertips brushed against his knee and then were gone. “Rest. I need to speak with Phyllis.”

“I….” Vasilios made to struggle up, putting his cup aside. “I can go now. I don’t need to continue to take up your time. I’ve told you everything I know.”

“No.” Markos turned and glared at him, and Vasilios sank back down onto the couch without realizing he’d moved. “When you came in here, you looked exhausted and unwell, and I’m not simply going to grill you for information and then kick you out onto the street. Unless you are commenting upon the hospitality of my house, or the lack thereof?”

Vasilios’s head lowered and his gaze fixed on the floor. “Of course not, my lord. The hospitality of your house has been more than generous.”

When Vasilios glanced up at him, Markos was running his fingers through his hair for a third time, so it stood up even more wildly than before. Vasilios had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from smiling.

“Just rest.” Markos sounded exasperated more than displeased. “Drink your tea and eat some food, if you can manage it.”

Vasilios nodded, even though he doubted he’d be able to eat anything anytime soon. Markos walked to the door and opened it, then slipped outside. Vasilios sipped his tea and took a moment to look around the room. The walls were covered in frescoes, depicting a fruit orchard with bright blue birds wheeling between the trees.

There was a small desk with papers piled on it over by the one window in the room, which had an ornate wooden grate across it but still let in light. The chair Markos had been sitting in had obviously been pulled away from the desk and placed next to the low couch, which was wood upholstered in light-blue silk. The low table was made of warm, red wood, the legs of which had been beautifully carved.

The door opened again, and Markos reentered the room and smiled at him. Vasilios smiled back before he realized what he was doing and then lowered his head.

“The tea is very good,” he said for lack of anything better.

“Thank you.” Markos walked back over to the chair and sat. “I used to suffer from stomach upset quite a bit while on campaign, and I always found it soothed me.”

Vasilios wanted to ask about it, what had caused Markos’s illness, and how Markos had dealt with being constantly on the move and commanding a larger number of men. He didn’t ask, of course. Instead, he sipped his tea.

“I read over the documents you sent me,” Markos said, and Vasilios looked up, surprised, and then he quickly glanced away. “I like the parcel. The house seems to be in decent shape. It shouldn’t take too much to fix it up so someone could be quite comfortable there. The vineyard is going to take a little work, but I like a challenge.”

“Good.” Vasilios nodded, latching onto something he knew and was confident in his ability to do well. “If you would like, I’ll bring a contract around for you to examine.”

“That would be most appreciated,” Markos said.

“This is a generous thing you’re doing, with the house for your daughter-in-law.”

“Cassandra is sweet, gentle, and intelligent,” Markos said, his voice tired and sad. “She reminds me of my first wife, and I like her a great deal. Isaias, though, suffers from the arrogance of youth and would much rather be courting favor with our young Emperor, or chasing after the first pretty thing that catches his eye, than treating her properly. She is lonely, and there are too many unkind rumors at her expense.” Markos shook his head. “She hates being at court and under the prying eyes of city life, but now that Isaias has given away their country villa to his newest plaything, Cassandra has nowhere else to go.”

Vasilios bit his tongue before he pointed out that Markos was not responsible for the poor behavior of his son. It was not Vasilios’s place, after all.

“Vasilios,” Markos said and then seemed to hesitate. “Please tell me if I’m being too forward asking this, and know you are completely within your right not to answer, but have you ever considered buying your freedom at some point?”

Vasilios jerked and had to put the teacup down quickly so as not to spill any of the contents. He clenched his hands in his lap. “No,” he said flatly.

“I’m sorry for asking.” Markos ducked his head. “I should have known better, but my curiosity often causes me to do or say foolish things.”

Vasilios inclined his head a little. “You do not need to apologize. You are within your rights to ask me anything you want. It is just that I am well educated, with many skills centered around running a household and handling business matters. It means I am valuable, and my worth is very high. I could never possibly make my own cost, and if I even came close, Panagiotis or Damianos would take the money from me so I would not be able to buy my freedom.” Vasilios took a breath. “So no. I don’t think about it at all.”

“I’m sorry,” Markos said again. “I should not have brought it up.”

“No.” Vasilios shook his head.

Someone knocked on the door, and Markos rose once more to answer it. It was Phyllis again. She said something low to Markos, who nodded before turning back to Vasilios.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to be a poor host again. I’ve received an urgent message I have to attend to.”

“It’s all right.” Vasilios rose from the couch. “I need to return to the house anyway. I’m sure quite a few people are wondering where I am.”

“If Panagiotis asks, tell him I wished to speak with you about the parcel of land,” Markos said. “It is not, after all, truly a lie.”