Fallen (11 page)

We both stood there for a moment, absorbing
the reality of his words. There was no time. At any moment the door
would open and death would be upon me.

“What do I do, Tom?”

I read it in his eyes. I was a dead man if I
didn’t escape immediately.

“Help me, please?” I begged, knowing that
for him to give me the least help would almost certainly get him
killed as well.

He broke away from our staring contest,
pacing around the room, mumbling to himself. “The room will be
sealed magically, of course,” he muttered more to himself than me.
“No windows and only two doors, definitely no way out. The walls
are certainly sealed.”

“Listening to all of this, my heart began to
sink ever further. Hope was waning. I prayed silently as I watched
him making his way around the room.

Tom stopped beside one of the chairs set
against the wall. He scooted it to the side, looking down at the
baseboard. I walked around the leather chairs, coming up behind
him.

Tom knelt next to a mouse hole that had been
gnawed through the baseboard. “Could it be?” he asked.

He stuck his first finger out, prodding into
the hole. He looked at me, smiling. There’s hope yet,” he said. “We
can go through here.”

“A mouse hole? Are you joking? Let’s just
open the door.”

Tom stood face to face with me. “Look, I
know your new to all of this, but figure it out,” he demanded.
“They put us in this room to keep us here. Black has bound the
doors and the walls so that you can’t open or break through. But
this hole isn’t a part of the structure, and he obviously didn’t
know about it.”

“But I can’t become that small,” I hissed,
fearing Black and Sinister had already heard us and were about to
come out of his office.

Tom grinned. “Then it’s time for a quick
lesson on shape shifting.”

“The boy is clearly a Descendant,” Mr. Black
said. “The only question is from whom.”

He looked at Sinister standing before his
large mahogany desk rigid as a stone.

“Certainly not of the Breed, my lord,”
Sinister said. “I’ve never seen any of our kind control elements
like fire.”

“I do not suspect the Breed or any of the
other Descendant lines,” Mr. Black said. “My concern is that he
looks so human. Something else is at work here.”

Sinister appeared puzzled. “If not from a
Descendant line then who, my lord?”

“Who else but one of the Fallen themselves?”
he suggested.

Sinister took a step back. “Is that
possible? I thought the practice had been—”

“Prohibited by the Almighty? Of course it
was…not long after the flood. However, all Descendant lines are
easily distinguished from humans apart from glamour. Only direct
Descendants ever bore so human a form. Not even all of them
did.”

Sinister studied his master for a moment’s
pause. “You suspect Southresh, my lord?”

Black began to pace near his desk. “He would
be the most likely candidate,” he said. “However, Southresh has not
shown himself to be interested in our work in London. Of course, he
never has been one that could be counted upon; a rebel among
rebels.”

Sinister grinned. “An admirable
quality?”

“A chaotic nuisance,” Black retorted.
“Simply because the Fallen left the forced servitude of the Most
High does not mean that order isn’t necessary. Without it nothing
of any value can ever be accomplished. Even the chaos we create, as
part of our plans, has its place within the order of those
plans.

“Yes, my lord,” Sinister replied. “And if
Southresh is responsible for the boy?”

Black paused behind his own high-back
leather chair. “The boy is a curiosity, but bears little threat to
us. He doesn’t even know who he is, or the nature of his abilities.
He is not even a novice. And unless Southresh becomes directly
involved we will make no move against him. A war on two fronts
would be detrimental to my goals in London.”

“Then what of the boy?” Sinister asked.

“He has come into your care,” Black
remarked. “It should be a small thing to turn him, make him a
valuable resource.”

Sinister considered the matter a moment.

Black’s eyes narrowed upon his servant. “You
doubt that the boy would serve us?”

“My lord, Tom has become fond of the boy,
taken him under his wing somewhat,” Sinister said. “He informs me
that the boy has stated his allegiance to our great enemy,
following the faith of his pastor father.”

Black scowled at his servant. “That
information should have been shared earlier, Sinister,” he said, a
flame burning within his eyes.

“My apologies, my lord, but I did not think
such faith possible among the Descendants of the Fallen,” Sinister
said, casting his eyes to the hardwood floor.

Black straightened, suddenly resolute. “The
boy’s claim to faith is of little consequence. He must be destroyed
immediately.”

“Perhaps, I should remove Tom from the
premises, my lord. He may attempt to interfere and he has been my
most gifted pupil. I would hate to sacrifice him over this small
matter.”

Black laughed indignantly. “The day you
value your servants is the day they begin to control you, Sinister.
I would have thought you were made of sturdier material. Now, let’s
be done with this quickly.”

Mr. Black crossed the room to the door
adjoining the anteroom to his private office. The room had been
spell-sealed in order to maintain privacy. “I’ll handle the matter
with the boy. If you want to preserve the other one then keep him
out of my way.”

Sinister followed him through the doorway,
pausing as his master did on the other side. The anteroom was
empty. Sinister closed his eyes, resigned to the inevitable
consequences of his pupil’s actions. Tom had been a valuable
associate, but he had just chosen his own fate.

Black fumed silently for only a moment
before turning to Sinister. “Find them.”

Once Tom had located our way of escape
within Mr. Black’s spell-sealed anteroom, the matter turned to how
to get me through it. I had so little experience with utilizing
this power that I had no idea even where to start. Tom, while
vastly knowledgeable in comparison, lacked the patience a novice
like me required.

“You want me to do what?” I cried.

“Brody, we’ve precious little time to argue
about this,” Tom said. “Think about doing this the same way that
you did when Black was testing you. You probably have the ability
within you already. It’s just a matter of tapping into the power
and directing it.”

“I only managed to turn the fire away out of
fear for my life!”

“Well, in case you haven’t figured it out
yet, this is worse!” Tom scolded. “Black wasn’t trying to kill you
then, but he will certainly do it when he walks through that
door.”

I closed my eyes, trying to figure out how
in the world I was going to accomplish the task at hand. My hands
were shaking. Trying to focus upon this was only giving me a
headache.

Tom sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose
to ease his frustration. “Just watch me and do what I do,” he
said.

Tom vaporized an instant later, becoming a
coil of multicolored smoke that coalesced a moment later on top of
the chair in the form of a small brown mouse. The mouse threw out
its hands, mimicking a magician successfully performing some great
trick. “Ta-da!” Tom proclaimed in a squeaky, mouse’s voice.

“I can’t do that,” I hissed, trying again to
keep my voice to a whisper.

The mouse put his paw to his forehead,
shaking it back and forth. “I’ve got it,” he said suddenly. “Open
your mind to me, Brody. Take my hand and just allow me to have
control.”

“What?”

“You’ll sense someone else in your head for
a moment, but many of the Descendants of the Fallen are able to do
this. I’ll make the transformation for you.”

“I’ll try,” I said.

The mouse held out one of its tiny paws. I
grasped it gently between my thumb and forefinger, careful not to
crush Tom’s hand. Letting go wasn’t as easy as I might have
thought. The mind wants order, wants control. Still, Tom was right.
I did sense another presence in my mind, somewhat intrusive, but
manageable.

I tried to think about the process of
praying, sensing the Lord’s presence and surrendering to it. A
palpable tremor coursed through me. When I opened up my eyes, both
Tom and I were standing on the floor facing a much larger mouse
hole. The chair I had been standing next to was now gargantuan in
size.

Tom the mouse stood before me, probably
smiling, though because he was a rodent it was impossible to tell.
He was now as tall as I was. Rather, I was now as miniscule as him.
I looked myself over. Pinkish skin had been replaced by soft brown
fur. Hands had been supplanted by tiny pink paws. I was now a
mouse.

No sooner had the transformation been made
than the door to Mr. Black’s office opened. The tremor of footfalls
through the floorboards was far more noticeable now. Tom took off
ahead of me like a flash through the mouse hole. I followed right
behind, finding it easy to keep up with his pace in this form.

The labyrinthine world behind the walls made
my head spin; such were the twists and turns of our trek. Tom
seemed to know by instinct which way to go, though I wondered at
the time if he had any idea where we were going to end up. I had
heard of rats and mice dead and decomposing within the walls of
houses before. That wasn’t the sort of fate I wanted for us
tonight.

Bits of plaster chipping along the insides
of the walls, as well as the exposed tips of nails, made climbing
easy. Our lithe mouse bodies squirmed through tight holes and gaps
among the framing with hardly a pause. Truth be told, I was finding
the entire experience quite exhilarating. Just the thought of
having been transformed into such a creature was exciting enough
for a seventeen-year-old boy. But to also have the adrenaline rush
of running for our lives only seemed to add to the thrill of it
all.

For a time we were vertical, but now we
moved between the floors of Mr. Black’s house, traveling
horizontally for a seemingly great distance. Copper piping wound
throughout, carrying water here and there, a luxury for the
wealthy.

“Where are we going?” I squeaked.

Tom the mouse paused ahead of me. “We have
to find a safe way out and then leave the grounds. I can open a
portal beyond the boundaries of Black’s estate.”

“Well, don’t you know where you’re
going?”

Tiny pink paws stood on Tom’s mouse hips.
“I’ve never been in this house before tonight…thanks for getting me
here by the way. I’m just trying to sniff our way out, following
the fresh air hoping for a hole out. Even an open window would be
nice.”

I mimicked his gesture. “Hard to find a
window behind the walls and beneath the floorboards.”

“Would you rather expose us to the Breed
dwelling within this house? They can sense body heat quite well.
They’re vampires after all.”

“Real vampires?”

“Is there any other kind?” he asked
sarcastically.

“I thought vampires were only myth and
legend,” I answered.

“Most of what mortals call myth and legend
has its origins in the various Descendants of the Fallen,” Tom
said. “I’m an elf. Have you ever thought that elves existed outside
of fantasy?”

“Well, no,” I admitted.

“There you go,” Tom said. “We Fae are
masters of camouflage, but sometimes we’re found out, seen by
someone who possesses the Sight. Some of the things you hear about
are totally made up, but many have their origin with us.”

“Can the Breed see us through the walls and
floorboards?” I asked.

“Only the most sensitive, like Sinister,” he
said. “But they can see you easy in the dark. Now let’s get out of
this house while we can.”

Tom scurried on beneath the overhanging
water pipes through the darkness. I proceeded on all fours, trying
not to lose him. Admittedly, it would have been difficult. One of
the things about being a mouse was the great nose that came with
this form. Besides, Tom sort of smelled.

Mr. Sinister pointed across the room toward
a chair stationed against the wall. “I smell them over there,” he
said.

Mr. Black leered toward the place. All of
the furniture separating him from the wall was immediately thrown
to either side, parting the way through the middle. The mouse hole
was revealed in the baseboard.

“Clever boy,” Mr. Black remarked of Tom.

“Too clever for his own good,” Sinister
mumbled.

A man, one of the Breed, appeared in the
room, having come through Black’s office.

“Lane,” Sinister said, referring to the new
arrival. “Just the man I need. Two clever mice have gone into the
walls, looking for a way out no doubt. Find them—”

“And Eliminate them,” Mr. Black said,
interrupting.

Lane cast his piercing eyes with their
red-rimmed irises toward the mouse hole then nodded. He lunged down
toward the hole, transforming into a muscular rope of serpentine
flesh. A moment later, six feet of black-scaled snake had
disappeared inside the mouse hole, forked tongue tasting the air,
seeking out its small prey.

Our winding, twisting, turning trek between
floors and through walls had led us unto several dead ends, forcing
us back to different routes. On several occasions we ran into
magical barriers that Tom quickly identified in order to keep us
from being destroyed. It wasn’t that I couldn’t see them once they
were shown to me. I just had no idea what I should look for.

What should have taken all of sixty seconds
in human form seemed to take us mice an eternity. Finally we
emerged through a gnawed board, left by some earlier rodent, into
what appeared to be a tool shed. Various lawn implements lined one
wall very high up from our perspective while a push mower, with its
bladed cylinder fastened between two large wheels, stood in the
corner.