A Shade of Vampire 23: A Flight of Souls (12 page)

W
hen I passed
through the thick main door, to my relief, it was to see that nobody was on the other side. I moved back through it again and ushered the others to follow after me. All four of us arrived in the vast lake-filled cavern that housed the door. We dove into the water where we’d be the least visible and headed to the entrance of the tunnel on the other side.

We wound round and around the dark canal and emerged in the entrance cavern that was home to the base of the whirlpool. We kept beneath the tunnel as we scoped out the massive cave. As was to be expected, there was a crowd of ghouls guarding the base of the vortex. I cast my eyes about the shadowy crags of the walls and the large boulders lining the room. Eyeing the nearest one, I darted toward one and hid behind it. The others followed me, cautiously, slowly, one by one, and we all crouched down low among the rocks.

My eyes remained fixed on the ghouls, looking for any signs that one of them might have spotted us. Since I was unable to detect any, we appeared to have crossed the first obstacle. We were at least hidden now in this enclosure, and although we might not have any kind of plan, at least we could watch. Observe this seemingly impossible escape route.

We waited silently, staring at the swirling ceiling, not exchanging even a whisper for fear that the ghouls might hear us. Nothing happened for hours—just the ghouls milling around near the entrance, some perched on rocks. They seemed to take shifts while some swept back through the tunnel and others came out. But the watery exit was never left unguarded. I wondered why they didn’t just fix the net that Lucas had spoken of and be done with it. Ghosts could not lift off the net with their hands, and neither could they supposedly pass through it. It would save the ghouls keeping guard twenty-four seven. But maybe there were some other reasons for keeping it open that I was not aware of. Perhaps they wanted to keep it open to allow easy passage for the fae, and also their own kind returning from some grim excursion.

After several hours, a large crowd of fae emerged through the vortex, carrying white coffins which I could only assume were filled with ghosts—the new victims those false messengers had meted “justice” on and brought down to “Hell”. The sight struck me as odd. The myth that they had planted among the ghost community was that the portal light shone once every full moon. If they were trying to gather as many ghosts as possible to hand over to the ghouls, I wondered why they made this “appointment” only once every month. Perhaps, at the time they’d first spread the rumor, they had not been in such a hurry, and now that the deadline was looming—whatever that deadline was exactly—they were resorting to more desperate—and frequent—methods of snatching ghosts.
Lowlifes.

The coffins crashed down to the main lake before bubbling up to the surface. The fae gathered some boats that were moored near the edge of the lake and crossed the lake, floating the coffins through the tunnel. They’d barely even glanced once at the ghouls. I estimated there were about fifty fae.

I remained staring at the dark entrance to the canal long after they disappeared into it, though they soon emerged again—without the coffins. The fae flew back to the whirlpool exit and plunged through, leaving The Underworld behind.

Everything became still again in the chamber, and almost silent, but for the eerie nattering of the ghouls above us. I drew my eyes away from the entrance of the whirlpool, which seemed so close—so torturously close—and yet so far.

Nolan raised a brow at me. “What are you thinking?” he mouthed.

How to escape this graveyard
. Something staying here for hours hadn’t brought us any closer to.

I averted my eyes away from him and focused back on the ghouls. I continued to think, and think, and think… until Chantel began to fidget. To my discomfort, she began whispering to Nolan, “I think we should leave. We’ve been here long enough. What more is there to discover? We’ve already seen the entrance and know that we can’t pass through it.”

I shot a glare at her and her husband, raising a finger to my lips. I nodded toward the tunnel, indicating that they leave rather than make a noise. They got the picture, and Chantel’s lips pursed. Chantel was itching to go but Nolan wasn’t. He did, however, acquiesce to his wife’s request. He glanced at me apologetically, and the two of them slipped away from the boulders. They drifted back to the tunnel and hopefully they would make it back to our pond without being caught.

That left Kailyn and me alone, the way I preferred it. Silence engulfed us again as we continued watching the whirlpool. I wasn’t sure how much more waiting I could take, but I wasn’t ready to retreat yet. After what felt like another hour had passed, I sensed movement from the corner of my eye, to my left. Horror gripped me. My first thought was that a ghoul had spotted and crept up on us, but as I whirled around, I was met with a far more shocking sight.

My uncle, Lucas.

He was floating toward me up the narrow slope from the dip of the lake. His expression was still worn and ragged but his eyes gleamed with sentience.

“What are you doing here?” I breathed, my face contorting in confusion.

He settled himself next to me among the rocks. After glancing briefly at Kailyn—who would be an utter stranger to him—he replied, in a surprisingly steady voice, “I… I changed my mind.” His jaw was tightly clenched in a grimace as his eyes darted up toward the ghouls.

Clearly…
But how? What had made him? When I’d left him in his pool, he had seemed so weak, he had hardly seemed capable of moving. For him to make it up all those levels was no mean task, especially when he had the constant fear of getting caught along the way. He’d seemed so lost, so unsure of himself. I wondered what had given him the strength—and, heck, the courage—to venture away from where he belonged.

“How did you even know where to find us?” I whispered.

He shrugged, a tad dismissively, his cold blue eyes remaining fixed on the entrance of the whirlpool. “You mentioned that you were being kept in the upper layers… I asked around for you. When I didn’t find you in any of the ponds, I guessed that you might have come to the entrance chamber, given all your talk of escape. For this is the only exit from this place.” He glanced at me, darkness in his eyes.

Yes, I had already guessed that this was the only exit. Entering the main wooden door into the chambers of the ghouls led only one way: down, down and further down, into the bowels of their hell.

I was wary of asking any more questions of my uncle—I’d already spoken far more than I was comfortable with. Still, I couldn’t help but continue to stare at him in confusion as to this sudden change of heart. His venturing up here was why I hadn’t seen him down in his pond… Though that was some time ago now. Perhaps he’d left the pool and had been trying to find his way back up to the higher levels. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it had taken him longer than Kailyn and me given the state he’d been in.

I’d thought that when I left him he would sink back into his madness, but here he was, more aware than ever. I even detected what I believed was the coldness of the old Lucas coming out; there was a slight indifference to his demeanor.

Noticing that I was still gaping at him, Lucas threw me another bone, as though he’d read my thoughts—further demonstrating his awareness. “I suppose I”—he averted his eyes to the ground—“was thinking about what you said about my son.” He paused again, as though he’d lost his voice for a moment. “If there’s even a small chance that we could find a way to escape, I’m willing to give it another try. Because… I would very much like to see my son. Even if he can’t see me.”

I
did not enjoy keeping
my nephew locked up in that chamber. Although admittedly it had been satisfying at first, given the havoc he’d wreaked on our island, the novelty was wearing off fast.

I continued to drop in on him for the next couple of days just in case he had a change of heart, but when he remained as clammed up as ever, it was time to set Plan B in motion.

I waited for Ibrahim to visit me that night—I had told him to check on me in case there was something that I needed. From the look on the warlock’s face as he arrived, it appeared that he had already guessed what I was about to propose.

“It’s time to bring in Herbert,” I said grimly.

“You’re sure there’s no other way?” he asked, not bothering to hide the doubt in his voice.

I nodded. “Believe me, I have tried.”

Ibrahim blew out a breath, then shrugged. “All right. When do you want to do this?”

“Tonight,” I replied without thinking. “Now.”

Ibrahim’s jaw clenched. “I’ll go get him then.”

Ibrahim vanished and I knew that he would be returning to his office, where, in the drawer of his desk, was an innocent-looking pencil case—within which was something… not so innocent.

As I’d been planning out this whole affair with Ibrahim before my turning, I’d asked the warlock if there was any way we could actually implant the truth in Jeramiah’s mind, if all else failed. Make him see it, experience it. I guessed there was no way to truly make a person accept something even with the most brutal of methods. But in implanting the facts so vividly in his mind, I would be able to walk away knowing that I had done the very best that I could to come to terms with my nephew. If he still insisted on living in his fantasy world, then good riddance to him. But while there was still room for me to strive harder, I would with all that I had.

Ibrahim and I had discussed the matter for a long time. While witches did have the power to give people visions, he said that it was nothing comparable to that of a ghoul… A rather unpleasant breed of supernatural we’d already had the misfortune of coming across. I had experienced for myself their powers of mind manipulation. To this day, I still shuddered whenever I recalled the scene I’d believed I witnessed down by the Port. Kiev and Sofia, wrapped in each other’s arms at the end of the jetty, sharing a passionate kiss beneath the moonlight. Other residents’ minds had also been messed with, including Mona’s. Mona had even gone so far as to abandon Kiev and our island because of her conviction in what she thought she’d seen. The work of that ghoul, Silas, had been mere illusions, but Ibrahim informed me that they could also inject real memories into people’s minds, as though they had lived through them themselves.

And so, as loath as I was to bring another one of those nasty creatures onto the island, it seemed that it was going to be our best option. Ibrahim offered to pay a visit to the realm of the white witches, The Sanctuary, where they were known to keep ghouls as servants. Ever since Rose had saved one of the Ageless’ sisters from the clutches of the black witches, we’d had pleasant dealings with the white witches. They were no longer the enemies they once were and I was quite sure that they would do us a favor and lend us one of their ghoul serfs.

So Ibrahim set off and returned within the day with an old, rusting pencil case. Within it was supposedly a ghoul. I was extremely leery about the box, wondering if there was any way that the ghoul could escape before it was time and start tearing through our island, but Ibrahim assured me that he had learned how to keep ghouls under control and even when out of the box, this particular ghoul was well trained.
Herbert
. The name conjured up the picture of an English butler in a tailcoat. I would have smirked at the irony if I’d been in a lighter mood. As soon as we were done with him, Ibrahim would return him to The Sanctuary.

This was a part of our plan that I was sure Sofia would lose hair worrying about, and I felt all the more sure of my decision to delay telling her about all this until after the fact.

I gazed down at the pencil case in my hands. Now that we were sure that we would indeed use Herbert, it was time to impart my memories to him, for only then could he instill them in Jeramiah’s mind. This, I feared, would be a rather unpleasant experience for me. But, again, Ibrahim assured me that it would all be okay; if he sensed the ghoul was straying from his command in even the slightest way, he would immediately force him back into the pencil case and then return him to The Sanctuary, reporting him as a disobedient ghoul… which would cause the creature to receive severe punishment.

Returning the box to Ibrahim’s hands, I sat down on the bed, steeling myself for what was to come.

Ibrahim opened the case, and out flooded the form of a translucent ghoul. His long, bony legs trailed against the ground as he hovered over me. I grimaced at his ghastly face, and then at the long, black claws protruding from his lanky fingers. Just one lash of those claws could easily take out an eye. Still, I trusted Ibrahim.

To my surprise, the warlock began to address Herbert in a strange, whispery language. Once he’d finished, I couldn’t help but comment, “I never knew you spoke ghoul, Ibrahim.”

Ibrahim chuckled dryly. “It’s not much of a language. I’ll teach you someday.”

Somehow, I didn’t see myself taking my friend up on that offer…

“So what now?” I asked, tentative.

“Close your eyes and cast your mind back to all the memories you’d like to impart to Jeramiah. Herbert is in his subtle form, which will allow him to sink his hands into your head and absorb it all. You shouldn’t feel a thing.”

Great…

“Okay,” I muttered, eyeing the nightmarish creature one last time before obeying him.

My eyes shut tight, I sensed the ghoul approach. Then I guessed his hands closed around me, but as Ibrahim had assured me, I didn’t feel anything. Well, not much. Just an odd chill around my skull, but I was used to being cold. I soon forgot that a nasty monster had his hands ferreting around in my brain, and instead focused on sourcing memories as far back as I could. I did my best to relive events in chronological order, and once I felt that I’d imparted enough, I opened my eyes.

Ibrahim hissed something to the ghoul, and immediately he withdrew his hands and hovered back toward the warlock.

“Sure you’re done?” Ibrahim asked, with a cock of his head.

“Yes. I believe so,” I replied.

“All right. Well, when you’re ready, we should go see Jeramiah. It’s best to do it as soon as possible while everything is still fresh within our friend’s mind.”

“We’ll go now.” I shot to my feet and gathered my cloak again. Then the three of us left the room, setting off down the corridor toward my nephew.

When we opened the door and stepped inside with Herbert, the sheer look of terror in Jeramiah’s eyes was quite a precious sight to behold. I doubted he’d ever seen a ghoul before. He looked tenfold more afraid now than when I had accosted him back in his apartment.

We moved closer with the ghoul, who set his eager eyes on his victim. I bent down so that my face was level with Jeramiah’s. “Given your attempt to murder me and my family, consider this a light, uncle-ly slap.”

I stepped back, indicating to Ibrahim that he move forward with the ghoul. Jeramiah growled another round of curses as he tried desperately to distance himself from Herbert. Pathetic. The ghoul reached him in a matter of seconds and closed his hands around his head. Then my nephew’s yelps subsided, reducing into nothing but heavy breathing as the ghoul began coursing my memories into his skull.

Jeramiah’s face contorted and he gripped the sides of his head, as if the gesture alone would rid him of the ghoul. Then he began to whimper. Whimper like a child.

“No. Stop. Stop! Please!”

It actually became uncomfortable to watch, and I backed out of the room while Herbert finished his work.

Once Ibrahim called to me that the ghoul was done, I returned to see my nephew curled up in a ball on the floor, locked in a fetal position, his whole body shaking.

I was staring down at a broken man.

A lonely, broken man.