The Eternals Read online

Page 20


  * * *

  A steady dripping woke me from my slumber. The same dream, over and over. How many times it had played through my troubled mind, I could not say? But for the first time in many such slumbers, I'd awoken to legs that moved at my command. I stretched, pointed my toes to a worrying creak, then tightened my muscles; with merciful glory, they responded.

  All was dark and damp, but I was alive. The fall had all but finished me and ushered me away to that uncertain place all Eternals must one day face. But I had looked at the fires of that private hell and returned.

  My arms were less responsive, but with careful persuasion I was soon rubbing the water from my face and already lusting for a more metallic liquid. I was desperate. My body was weak, frighteningly so! I was no longer the man I had been. It was as though someone had sucked the vitality from me. I felt malnourished, fragile, delicate enough to snap in the slightest breeze. Like a newborn struggling to survive, desperate to stand, I struggled from my rockery bed.

  I dragged myself to my feet, banged my head on the stone ceiling and stooping made my way from the cave that had served as home and out into a clear night sky.

  Vladivar and his men had gone. There were no clouds to conceal him, no raging storm to pour forth his insanity, and no monastery for him to ransack. He had destroyed the place in his rage. Barely a stone remained atop the looming rocks of its former station. As for the Sunyins, there was no sign they'd ever existed, if indeed they ever had.

  Yet, as if in answer to my somber appraisal of the monks' lives, I spied something floating on the shallows of the tide. Hoping it another survivor of the drop, the back of a head, perhaps, floating in the sea, I staggered my way over and into the frothing water. I waded to the bobbling shape and grabbed a hold of what I thought to be a shoulder and pulled it clear of the water. But no human body was it rather than that which I so desperately required: a bag of the Sunyins' blood.

  Decorum went out of the window. I did not thank those noble men for what they had provided, nor did I take a seat at some rocky dining table, but tore into the bag and savoured every sloshing droplet of life-giving blood. The metallic tang slipped down my throat with an appreciation I'd never before felt for my food. I drank every last drop, then licked the bag clean to make certain. I then washed myself in a salty bath and tossed back my hair. The change was instant. No longer did I dwell on what ifs, my own sorry state, or the atrocities carried out in the name of sustenance. No, the Jean that stood knee deep in sea water was the Jean of old, cold, calculating, full of disdain. The object of that disdain would know his wrath, but not before I'd set out to intercept the one he sought.

  I slicked back my hair, tucked the tattered ends of my shirt into my trousers, straightened the remnants of my sleeves and set out for a partially groomed revenge.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  -

  Flight

  I scaled the crumbling cliffs with ease in my renewed state. I felt able to have leapt them in one bound should I have needed. It was incredible the difference human blood made.

  That got me to thinking, never a good thing at the best of times. I considered the past, something I was averse to being mostly ashamed of it, and marvelled at how grand the vampires of old must have been, those ancient ancestors of the Eternals. Their presence in a world dominated by man must have terrified, their eventual domination and destruction of the lesser beings even more so. Humanity's failings at self-preservation were still a mystery though? How a race who'd constructed devices of such magnitude as to shape the very earth had allowed themselves to be conquered bordered on the ridiculous. Yet, they had. Something just didn't add up?

  A powerful gust of wind soon brought my mind back to the job in hand. No longer shielded by the high cliffs the elements did their best to usher me back over them. I toyed with letting them think they could, my tattered garments flapping, my hair streaming like the rippling sea, before hurrying along the clifftops hoping to find some sign of where the Sunyins' tunnels resurfaced.

  I skirted close to the cliff edge risking the occasional vertigo inducing look to peer for any kind of manmade constructs. But below was the same as above, just as nature intended. Not a single frond of grass appeared out of place. Wherever the tunnels led it was far from my current position. My search moved inland.

  The further I strode from the sea the more forested the landscape became. Trees soon replaced grasses as the principal flora and I was glad of the added security their shade provided. There was no telling if Vladivar searched for me, as I searched for Linka? The smells of the ocean dispersed on the wind to be replaced by that of pine sap, and I inhaled deep of nature's delights. It was more preferable to the false incense and pomades of the ballrooms of the damned. In some ways, I wished I could have stayed in that forest forever with my love at my side, but first I had to find her. I pressed on.

  The forest appeared never ending. I'd soon grown bored with walking and instead sped between the close-knit trunks and rambling bushes. If the monks had risen like Morlocks from their subterranean tunnels into such dense undergrowth there was no way I'd find their exit point.

  There in the enclosed midnight, the forest also took a turn for the dark. Trees stood warped, contorted, and a general canker took hold of the place. Like so much of the planet the forest was a hint of something long lost and no more, a poisoned memory.

  There was no way to find signs of the monks or their burden in that hellhole. No matter how hard I searched for the little fellows, I feared their presence would've remained elusive. I realised I knew so little about them as to be ignorant; not a trait I was familiar with, nor happy about. I'd lived for over five centuries and until recent events had been oblivious to their existence. Coupled with Linka's own mysterious background, her secret background, one I would not have considered it possible to hide, I felt I staggered from revelation to revelation in an endless blunder. Add the connection between my dear love and the Sunyins at the monastery, and the fact Linka had denied any knowledge of humanity, or at least alluded to it, and I was about as in the dark as I ever cared to be.

  My musings came to an abrupt halt when, with a great deal of relief, I reappeared from my woodland domain into open fields. A gentle, rolling landscape floated off in every direction and once more the stars shone down upon me. At first, I had no idea in which direction to head, but an orange, flickering tint to the distant horizon hinted at others. Eternals had no need of a fire, cold being their natural state, so I presumed my quarries were not too far ahead.

  I set off with renewed vigour toward the firelight. The Sunyins' blood still flowed through my veins with the tidal power of the Earth's oceans and I all but flew across the intervening countryside. Closer and closer I drew to the ever more vibrant fire. So intense were the flames as to produce a cloud of greying smoke that spewed forth into the night sky like a smothering smog. Whether Vladivar and his men were still in the area or not, I found this to be reckless on the monks' behalf and foolhardy on Linka's. I would have words.

  I was at the point of wondering why they should have used whole buildings as tinder, for it was apparent that's what burned, when an effete voice brought me to a juddering halt.

  “Uh, I wouldn't do that, Jean”

  “Do what, Merryweather?” I spun to the air-bound speaker.

  “Walk any further in that direction,” he purred from atop some kind of seated platform of polished metal complete with steering wheel and cargo of two large coffins.

  “I wasn't walking, I was running.”

  “That's just a question of velocity, dear fellow.”

  “Hmm, well you still haven't answered my question.”

  “Well, I should have thought that obvious, Jean.”

  “Please, do enlighten.”

  “Vladivar's men, of course. They are burning anything and everything between here and the Rhineland, not that there is much.”

  “Why?”

  “Why! To find and burn your body to ashes, and then s
catter you on the West wind, my friend. To be honest, I'm quite surprised to find you out and about, although you always were brazen. By the way, you look terrible.”

  “Never mind that now. I think I may be missing something? How have Vladivar's men spread so far in their quest for me? I'm fast, aren't we all, but even I can't traverse half of Europa in a single night.”

  “What are you talking about? It's been a month since you stole the Marquis' portable blood bank. He wasn't best pleased at having to send his monks out to make deliveries either, I'll tell you. Ruined his automatic processes, or something like that. You must have really put the frighteners up him.”

  Merryweather's babbled words trailed off into a dark place for his former had struck deep. Had I been so incapacitated? How had the sun not fried me? My little cave wasn't that deep, was it? Had my burning nightmare not been a nightmare at all? Question after question shot through my perplexed mind, but I endeavoured not to show it.

  “I didn't steal it, I stowed on board.”

  “Stowed, you say.” Merryweather gave an exaggerated wink. “Either way, it didn't go down well with His Majesty. Not too well at all.” He then burst into such a hysterical bout of laughter I thought he might fall off the high-stool he lounged upon. “Well, my friend, you've only gone and done it,” he said, trying to contain himself before my glare, “you're the most wanted man in the land.”

  “No change there then.”

  “Touché, sir.”

  I considered Merryweather's words for a moment before enlightenment hit. “Where's Linka?” I demanded, taking a pace or two towards his flying platform.

  “Be good now, Jean. Your current plight is nothing to do with me. Believe it or not, I'm here to help.” Nonetheless, he raised his transportation a little higher.

  “Where is she Merryweather, or heaven forbid I'll not be responsible for my actions?”

  “Keep your voice down, you idiot,” he hissed. “Linka is well.”

  “Where is she well?”

  “At the palace.”

  A great wave of relief washed over me as I realised her safe. However, the earnest look that flickered across my tormentor's features suggested an extra tale to tell.

  “Where's Vladivar?” I asked, but felt myself closing my eyes as the words escaped me.

  “At the palace,” Merryweather sobering answer. “It's his palace now.”

  “What do you mean, his palace?”

  “Simple. He landed his gigantic war balloon, or whatever the hell it is, out poured his rusty looking troops and hey presto we all had a new king.”

  “Hasn't any of The New Europa Alliance opposed him?”

  “They are few, the same as everyone else, they cannot oppose him. In practise, there is no alliance, my friend, just the odd bloated ballroom. I think whoever holds the biggest stick rules the world now. It so happens that's Vladivar's.”

  “Surely, nobody will listen to him. Vladivar has no right to the loyalty of anyone in the West.”

  “He will when he marries.”

  The bombshell dropped, my heart, if ever it had beaten, would've stopped. Inside, I was shattered; outside, more vengeful than ever.

  “That prehistoric ape has sucked all the fun from the world, Jean. I almost feel as devoid of purpose as you. That's why I made it my job to find you. It gave me purpose again,” he laughed.

  “Are you finished?”

  “I don't know? Possibly, depends on you.”

  “Why me?”

  “Well, I was kind of hoping you'd do something about it.”

  “Anything in mind?”

  “Hmm, kill the bastard!”

  And there it was, for the first time in all the years I'd known him Merryweather showed some spirit.

  “Yes, that's exactly it,” he repeated, “I should very much like you to kill him.”

  “The pleasure would be all mine. How long do we have before the knot is tied?”

  “Oh, he's having some kind of lavish ceremony tomorrow evening, my dark knight. I suppose he had to show a little flamboyance in the eyes of the populace. Everyone shall be dressed to the nines and looking to impress their new Messiah. Can I say that? Never mind, I just have. Speaking of which, why are you parading around in so moth-eaten a manner?”

  “You know how it is, fight a few Brits, slosh around the sea for a while, jump off a building or two, just the usual.”

  “Well, that's a relief. I thought for a moment you were regressing and I should have to put you on a leash.”

  “I think it would be best for both of us if I remained unleashed,” I replied.

  “Good answer,” Merryweather said, and burst into fits of girlish giggles.

  “Well?” I growled.

  “Well, what?”

  “Aren't you going to give me a lift?”

  “There's not enough time tonight, Jean. The sun will be up before we know it and I have no intention of frying even for boredom's sake.”

  “Isn't that why you brought the coffins,” I said nodding my head towards the craft's only furnishings.

  “Oh, yes, I'd forgotten about them.”

  “You must have been expecting me,” I continued, whilst he was on the back foot.

  “I hoped, dear sir. I hoped.”

  “Well, how about you fly this thing high and fast, and when the sun rears its flaming head, we settle down for the day?”

  “That's very presumptuous, I'm not sure I like what you're inferring!”

  “Just bring your bloody flying living room down here so we can get going,” I snarled, growing more frustrated with the maddening dandy.

  “Why didn't you just say that?” he retorted, manoeuvring the thing lower.

  I leapt onto the flat platform, and realising I had nothing to hang on to, sat on a coffin. I dug my nails deep into the wood as my chauffeur turned us about face and we rose into the air like a dragonfly of old.

  “How many of his men are out looking for me?” I shouted, as we set off at pace.

  “Not too many,” Merryweather replied. “He's the same as everyone else, bereft of troops.”

  “All the better,” I mumbled, more to myself than my companion, as thoughts of unequivocal violence flitted through my mind.

  * * *

  Merryweather took us straight into the cover of clouds. Rivulets of condensation-turned-rain ran over my bare chest, and within seconds I was wetter than a Koi, but better that than being seen. The clouds held all the world's tears it seemed, and I felt a profound sadness as we sailed through them. I wondered if some were Linka's, then erased the thought from my mind. So long as Vladivar needed her he would not harm her, and that gave me the advantage. That was the idea, anyway.

  “Are you all right back there?” Merryweather called through the speeding winds.

  “I'm fine, just musing,” I returned.

  “Musing good, or musing bad?” he said, and wandered over to my side with wobbling uncertainty.

  “Should you be doing that?” I asked.

  “Doing what?”

  “Leaving the controls.”

  “There are no controls. The wheel's for steering: pull back on it for lift, down for, well down, I suppose. That's it.”

  “How do you know the way?”

  “I don't.”

  “That's not very reassuring, Walter,” I garbled, then regretted it, as I thought myself to sound like someone's mother. Merryweather didn't seem to notice.

  “There is a red button below the steering wheel upon the pole that holds it, press that and it heads back to the palace.”

  “Amazing!” I gasped.

  “There are so many wondrous devices in this world we know so little about.”

  “You mean, we as Eternals?”

  “No, Jean, I mean we as rocks,” he huffed. “Who do you think I mean?”

  “With you, I can never be sure.”

  “You have to hand it to humanity though, don't you think? How on earth could a people that created so much have left thi
s world?”

  “I've thought the same,” I agreed.

  “I wish I could create something, Jean, really I do. I feel like a fish flopping about in the middle of a garden knowing where the sea is and how to swim, but not able to get there.”

  “That was deep,” I quipped.

  “I am not always so shallow, my friend.” He wiped the pooled condensation from his face.

  “Lacrimosa, Merryweather.”

  “What?”

  “Weeping, old friend, the clouds are weeping. I can't help feeling there should be an orchestra on board playing Mozart.”

  “Oh, my goodness no, it's Strauss or nothing for me,” Merryweather chuckled.

  “As it has been and ever shall be.”

  “Not long then, I fear.”

  “You feel it too?”

  “I do. Things are coming to a very slow stop. I don't know how I know it, Jean, but I do. The world is taking its final breaths and we shall be there when it breathes no more. Not even going out with a bang.”

  “More of a pathetic whimper,” I suggested.

  “Yes, a whimper,” he said, and turned his face away to look into the clouds. “Everything is ending, Jean: our race; our world; our time.”

  “Why have you never said as much, Walter? I had no idea you felt this way.”

  “What good would it do?”

  “I suppose you're right.”

  “I choose to live with a carefree attitude and reckless flamboyance until the day when it is no longer possible to do so. What about you?” he asked, returning his gaze and wiping what I was sure were tears from his eyes.