Path of the Magi (Tales of Tiberius) (18 page)

A week later, Dallen and Tiberius were seated in a horse-drawn cab plodding through the streets of Port Elizabeth.  Dallen had secured an invitation to an exclusive Christmas masque, a fancy dress party of the highest order.  Accordingly, he had dressed as Friar Tuck in a brown monk robe, which ideally suited his short, squat figure.  Tiberius was dressed in a diamond patched costume of Harlequin complete with matching black mask.  It was a costume he had selected from the rental shop both because it fit and it was cheap.  He wasn’t anticipating much of an evening, but Dallen wanted company, especially with Singh off visiting relatives.  At least if he had to do any magic, the mask would help.   

“Tonight I am officially off duty,” Dallen explained.  “Minister Clarence is a friend of mine and we intend to spend a profitable evening examining this excellent bottle of port,” he said patting the bottle he carried, “and a few selections from his own cellar.”

“Yes, sir,”  Tiberius said with a slight smile.  Occasions like this worried him a bit.  If Dallen had a weakness, it was a slight tendency to overindulge in his wine tasting.  On the one hand he couldn’t blame the man.  Dallen actually worked pretty hard though out the year.  He was more than entitled to a night off.  But one thing Tiberius had learned while studying about evil was to never let down your guard.  Dallen was a man with enemies, and if anyone were ever to attack him the perfect time would be a night like tonight. 

“For heaven's sake, don’t worry so,”  Dallen said, breaking in on his thoughts. 

Tiberius tried to look cheerful, which wasn’t altogether successful.  “Sorry, sir.  It’s my father’s old chess training.  I can’t help trying to think what I would do if I were the enemy.   Mixing alcohol and magic is a bad idea.”

“You’re right to think we have unrelenting and unmerciful enemies.  But you’re wrong to think old Dallen takes no precautions.  I haven’t lived more than one lifetime by being careless.”

“No, sir, but...”

“You’re not required to give up on wine, you know.  Christ’s first miracle was turning water into wine.  The highest quality wine too, I might add,”  Dallen said, somewhat defensively.

“No, sir.  But giving it up does improve my concentration.  It also makes my mother happy.  She’s trying to form a temperance society in Sherwood City,” Tiberius replied.

“Hmmf,” Dallen answered.  “You should honor your mother, of course.”

After a moment of riding in silence, Dallen continued.  “It isn’t me you need to look out for, you know.  If the enemy does wish to strike tonight it won’t be against me.  They know that I know enough to take precautions.  No, they will move against the weak, slinking into the shadows to do their deeds of mischief, encouraged because I won’t be on guard.”

“It can’t be helped,” he continued.  “No matter how powerful you become, Tiberius, you will still not be able to look out for everyone.  You’ll need time to sleep, time to heal from illness or injury, time to enjoy life.  Time, even, for Christmas parties.  We can’t always be on guard, Tiberius.  That you must leave to God.”

“Yes, sir,”  Tiberius replied.      

“I expect you to have a good time out on the dance floor tonight, whether you want to or not,”  Dallen said smiling.  “No slinking off for extra studies tonight.” 

“I will try, sir,”  Tiberius said. 

“Good.  Just don’t go looking for me before two in the morning.  I might think of going home around then, but I doubt it,” Dallen said.  “As I said, I’m off duty tonight.  You can look into any other little matters that come your way.  Just don’t bother me unless it’s a real emergency.”

Dallen suddenly took a serious tone and leaned forward gripping Tiberius’ arm.  “You’ve already opened the toolbox of God, Tiberius.  You’ve had half a year of hard training and command powers ordinarily beyond the grasp of mortal man.  You could slow down a dragon now if you had to.”

He leaned back to relax again.  “I mean it when I say that I plan to relax tonight.  I can do that knowing I have you nearby.”       

The carriage pulled up in front of a large mansion glittering with torches and gas lamps.  According to Dallen, it was a mansion to match anything in old Europe.  A short set of stone steps led up to the main hall.  The steps were already dotted with Little Bo Peeps, Robin Hoods, and other Harlequins and Columbines.  Once they reached the main hall they were met by the staff and given the chance to deposit their cloaks and walking sticks in the front room.  The dance hall could be seen on the right.  Large doors opened on to a short balcony, and steps led from that down to the dance floor below.  Ahead of them was a grand staircase which led up to some private rooms where various serious activities such as games of whist and wine tasting were held.  Almost as soon as they were in the main hall Dallen spotted his friend and went up the stairs with him.  To the left of the grand staircase was the entrance to another hall.  Their host indicated that the hallway had balconies looking over the river.  It was reserved for guests seeking a bit of privacy, he said with a wink. 

The balcony overlooking the dance floor was crowded with people, including a festive receiving line, which Tiberius ignored as he knew their real host was upstairs with Dallen.  He continued onto the dance floor below.   

At least wearing a mask and not having to explain himself, Tiberius was able to do more than his usual share of dancing.  No one cared what Harlequin’s job or social connections were, just whether he could dance, which he could.  The walls were covered with pine boughs and glass ornaments. Every few feet there was a Christmas tree topped with a star or an angel.  The candlelit chandeliers were bright and glittering.  The music and the festive costumes added the final touches to make a grand evening for all in attendance.   

It was when he was dancing the branle that he first noticed something extraordinary about the evening.  Whether it was a subconscious glance or a whiff of perfume, he could not later say, but he felt his heart flip over and he sensed a familiar presence. 

As the dance ended he bowed to his partner, then turned to the crowd to look for his next dance partner.  That was when he saw her.  She was wearing a masque of dark green, surrounded with feather frills.   It matched her dark green dress.  He might have known her simply from the beauty of the fabric.  That elaborate gold embroidery was practically unique to the Alfaran weavers.  She was looking about the room as if lost.  He touched her shoulder. 

“May I have this dance?” he asked. 

Any doubts were dispelled when she greeted him by putting her arms around him. 

“I knew you would find me,” Salina said.

“Did you think I wouldn’t recognize your perfume?” he asked.  “I’m not the one who’s been hard to find.  You could write more often and…”  

She silenced him putting a finger to his lips.  “We must talk of this later.  For now, I need your help.  Danger is at hand.  Dance me towards the entrance.”

Unexpected danger was something Tiberius understood.  He nodded and started dancing her towards the door.  “What’s wrong?”

“Where is Dallen?” she said. 

“Upstairs tasting wines with an old friend,”  Ti answered.  He bent his head in concentration a moment, then suddenly shook his head.  “Blast, he’s shut everyone out.  I can’t call to him telepathically.  We’ll have to find him the old fashioned way.”

Salina gave a worried glance over her shoulder and gave a gasp.  “You must do then.  We have no time to waste.  Didn’t you go through the receiving line?” she asked.

Tiberius looked a bit sheepish for a moment.  “No, I didn’t see the need to meet ‘Robin Hood’ and his court.  I’m from Sherwood City, you know, and that gets a bit old.”

“Will Scarlet is a vampire,” Salina stated.

Startled by the bluntness of her statement, Tiberius almost tripped.  “How do you know?”  he asked. 

“He was on the receiving line; I shook his hand,” she said.  That Tiberius understood.  She had a gift for reading a person by holding their hand.  If she’d shaken hands with a vampire, she’d know it. 

“He is hungry,” Salina continued.  “The girl with him is under his spell.  You must do something or she will not live the night.  I fear he suspects me as well.  Where is your staff?”

“In the coat room,” he said.  “Which one is he?”

“One of those two men dressed all in red.”

“You have a mirror in your purse?”

Now Salina looked sheepish.  “No, I left it in my room.  He’s the one on the right.  The one with his arm around the young girl.  See he leads her to seclusion.  Hurry, she won’t return alive to the dance floor.”

“She will,” Tiberius said.  He stopped dancing and started walking forcefully towards entrance. 

Laughing, Will Scarlet led his prey towards the back balconies that the staff had indicated was reserved for couples looking for some privacy.  Tiberius and Salina followed as best they could though the crowd. 

Will Scarlet was an elderly gentleman, apparently in good health.  The woman with him was young and pretty.  What was he to do, exactly?  Tiberius wondered.  He trusted Salina, but he didn’t feel like driving a stake though the heart of an elderly gentleman without even a challenge. 

He spotted them on the balcony.  The vampire had her now in his arms, her neck bared.  He had to do something.   

“Verlumo!” Tiberius said clearly and with a flick of his wrist he cast a truthlight spell.  A bright light let out from a crystal ring on his finger and shone on the face of the man dressed as Will Scarlet.  The man simply blinked slightly in the bright light.  But for the woman it was a different matter.  The truthlight was a magical light that tended to show things as they truly were.  A counterfeit coin would look paler, true gold brighter and more golden.  The man certainly looked different by this light.  He looked old, very old, and very pale and unhealthy under this light.  By this light he no longer looked charming, but cruel.  Cruel and hungry. 

The change in his face was sudden but unmistakable.  No different than seeing a person in a good light for the first time, but for all that the effect was dramatic.  The young lady suddenly saw the man as he truly was, a monster bent on feeding on her.  The woman screamed and jumped back.  The man was not easily dissuaded, however.  He gripped her tightly, grabbing her wrists. 

Tiberius reached under his shirt and brought out a small, simple cross made of two iron nails hammered together.  It wasn’t much, but it was handy and it had the desired effect.  The man stepped back and released the girl.  The woman was able to flee and Salina quickly led her away.  Could there be any doubt now that the man was a vampire?

“Clear off,” Tiberius ordered.  “You aren’t welcome here.”

The man didn’t move.  It was clear he didn’t like the cross, but it was equally clear he didn’t intend to go anywhere.  He looked up suddenly and into the eyes of Tiberius.   

Meeting the man’s, no, the vampire’s eyes, Tiberius felt such a wave of pure evil come towards him that he took an involuntary step back.  There was a hatred there that went far beyond annoyance at being interrupted in a private moment with a young lady.  This was a hatred of all living things, a hatred of all that was good and noble and pure in the world. 

“It isn’t that easy,” the man in red said.  The vampire spoke with a clear, cultured voice.  It had an outer veneer of civility, but was no less evil for that.  Indeed, all civilization and culture had done for him was to make him into a more refined and pure form of evil.  Tiberius felt almost nauseous from the aura surrounding the man. 

Tiberius had encountered evil before.  The dragon and the witches had both been engaged in evil, but neither of them had prepared him for this.  Looking into the vampire’s face one had a sense that he had actually embraced evil.  The eyes were said to be the window of the soul, and looking into this man’s soul left Tiberius with the unmistakable conviction that this man would really enjoy hurting and killing another person just for the pure artistry of murder. 

The vampire tried to take a step forward, but the cross Tiberius held still kept him back.  No matter, the vampire had other weapons. 

A cruel, thin smile crept across its face as it now fixed its gaze firmly on Tiberius.  “You’ve interfered for the last time, my meddlesome gallant.  Put down that cross!”

It was not spoken as a request.  It was a command.  Tiberius felt the full weight of the vampire’s mind control come against him.  They met eye to eye in a contest of wills.  For a moment Tiberius wanted to obey the command.  Tiberius felt an overpowering sense that he must do as this man ordered.  He had the authority, the seniority, the right to be obeyed. 

But this was not a young schoolgirl the vampire was trying to order about.  Tiberius was a man drilled in the ancient wisdoms.  Behind him stood Shakespeare, the prophets, and the sages from the dawn of mankind.  Everything from his father’s first instructions, the Bible lessons of his old pastor, and the pile of sages and Christian apologetic writers such as G.K. Chesterton and C.S. Lewis that Dallen had assigned him to study now stood up with him in resisting the supernatural orders of the dark noble.  The urge to comply lasted only a moment.   

From the moment their wills had joined in conflict the vampire had sensed resistance.  He’d touched an exceptionally strong-willed mind; that he knew in an instant.  At first he thought he might prevail, but as the struggle went on, the vampire could feel this unknown young man’s mind actually strengthening.