Successors (3 page)

4

Belus drove the sled carriage deeper into the uninhabited tundra while Danato monitored his purchases inside the coach. The girl sat across from him, giving him caustic looks, while she repetitively twisted a gold ring on her right thumb. She was now fully swathed in the fabric of his trench coat, since Ethan had given her leave to take all of it. 

Danato was unruffled by the girl's haughty attitude since he knew it was going to be her sword and shield for a while. However, he wasn't about to lose the appearance of authority, so he stared right back at her. Since both of them were stubborn to the very core, the game of chicken left them staring at each other for most of the trip. Uncomfortable with the ocular warfare, Ethan huddled against his window to watch the scenery. Such as it was, in the tundra, in the dark.

“What is that?” Ethan asked and wiped the fog from his view.

“What?” the girl asked and leaned over to look out her window.

Danato didn’t have to look to know what the daunting stone structure looked like. He had seen it many times. Usually close up, though.

“What is it?” Ethan tried to see.

“It’s a castle,” she told him dubiously, almost asking for verification.

“No, it’s a prison,” Danato corrected. He rested his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. He hadn’t even been away for a full day, but he knew what trouble awaited him on his return. He rarely left the prison, and rarer still did he take his second in command with him. However, for this particular endeavor, he needed someone he could trust. Not to mention Belus wanted to come along to make sure he did what he needed to do.

Belus was nothing if not dutifully officious.

“We’re going to be prisoners here?” the girl asked, as if being a slave was a lesser sentence to her than outright captivity.

“We’re all prisoners to this place, one way, or another. I am the warden here. I make sure what is held in that prison stays in that prison, and now, so will you two.”

The girl frowned in confusion, but resisted asking her questions. She pressed her face to the glass to observe their approach.

Unlike a prison, but similar to a castle, a drawbridge lowered to allow the carriage passage through the thirty-foot stone walls that surrounded the prison. The inner courtyard provided enough room for multiple outbuildings, including residences, storage sheds, stables, and a few more non-vital appropriations. With most of the buildings on either side and to the back of the prison, the area near the gate entrance was just open acreage.

At the center of it all was the prison. At nearly two blocks in length and a block wide, the prison in excess of seven-stories wasn’t a small operation. In contrast to the antiquated rock wall blockading it, the prison had modern poured concrete walls. Each floor offered some kind of narrow window that allowed just enough light in to keep everyone inside from going stir crazy. Except the basement, where the inmates required the exact opposite.

The rooftop was punctuated with several armed guards. Their duty to the prison was as much about diverting trespassers as it was about stopping runaways. They were miles from anything resembling civilization and concealed in a valley, but the occasional outdoorsman would find them by accident.

“Why would anyone house criminals out here?” the girl asked.

“I try not to think of them as criminals. I prefer to think of them as mental patients: very violent and ingenious mental patients.” He paused in reflection. “They’re all just a pain in my ass, really.”

She started to ask something else, but the carriage jolted to a stop and several guards rushed over to it. The doors opened on either side. Ethan and the girl jumped back, bumping into each other to get away from the double-sided attack. Danato raised a hand to calm them, as he listened to the guards ramble on simultaneously about fires, electrical outages, and melted walls.

“Damn elementals,” he murmured. “Okay, okay, I’ll get things coordinated with those idiots upstairs.” Danato looked at his two new guests. They looked back at him, concerned, but curious. He supposed that was better than anger. “Take these two to my house,” he ordered the guards on his left. “She’s expecting company.” He beckoned Ethan to exit toward the guards. “Go on. It’ll be alright,” he assured the nervous boy.

He stepped out, and one of the guards took him by the arm and led him away. The next man stepped in line and reached for the girl, but the fresh memories of her captivity were making her recoil.

Danato could only imagine what they had put her through, but he did know that no one here would hurt her. He would make sure of that. He pressed down the guard’s insistent reach.

“What’s your name, sweetheart?”

She looked at him, then her eyes skirted the floor as if she couldn’t remember, but he knew she was just debating if she should tell him. When she looked up at him with her telltale obstinacy, he knew he hadn’t earned it yet.

“This man is going to take you to a warm house. There’s food there. You can clean up. He’s not going to hurt you. Are you Paul?”

“It’s Pow-ul,” the man corrected. Danato paused to gape at the man who was interrupting his attempt to console the poor girl. The man blanched and stammered to correct himself. “No, sir. The girl is safe with me.”

Danato didn’t disguise his exhausted frustration, but the girl seemed to find some slight amusement in his predicament. As insignificant as it seemed, she started to move toward Paul. At the last second, she stopped and started to peel his trench coat from her shoulders.

He touched her hand, barely putting a feather’s worth of pressure, but it was enough to stop her movement. “Keep it.” He resisted the urge to squeeze or caress her hand like his instincts demanded. He just withdrew and nodded again for her to go.

She slipped out and Paul, following his example, didn’t try to touch her as he led her away. She glanced back, but he was already being mobbed by more men begging for orders, and couldn’t afford her the reassuring nod that she probably wanted and needed. He maneuvered his clamorous entourage toward the prison and began to repair the damage a day away had left him.

5

The guard directed Cori into the darkened house behind Ethan. The door slammed shut and she heard a click. She reached back for the doorknob, but she already knew the answer.

Locked.

She combed the walls in search of a light switch. She flipped the first one she found and turned to see the devastating conclusion to her captivity. The dungeon that would stand as a backdrop to her final days. However, the living room area, illuminated by the soft glow of table lamps just to the left of the door, was hardly the oppressive confinement she had anticipated.

The strictly defined space had a stacked stone fireplace corralled by a plush tan couch and two brown leather chairs. A few taxidermied animals adorned the mantel, and the wood lamps rested on slate end tables that flanked the couch. In the center of everything was a brown tinted-glass coffee table.

She flipped up the remaining two switches, revealing the rest of the open floor plan. Above her the vaulted ceilings dramatized the log-cabin style. A wrought iron faux-candle chandelier designated the dining room space ahead of her. The table and chairs beneath it were crafted of gnarled wood and varnished with a glossy red mahogany stain.

Just to the right of that the kitchen’s L-shaped island squared off the L-shaped counters against the wall. The stainless steel industrial-sized fridge/freezer opposed the end of the island. The apron sink on the long counter offered an easy back-and-forth with the stove in the island. On the far side of the island was a three-stool breakfast bar that overlooked the kitchen.

Cori gaped at the bachelor pad. It looked like it had been taken straight from a design magazine. Drawn in by the warmth, she meandered to the fireplace that was already roaring.

She stood in front of the billowing heat and closed her eyes. The orange flames lapped behind her eye lids, temporarily abating the concerns that were rolling around in her mind. Of which there were many.

Behind her, Ethan was banging around in the kitchen, raiding the cupboards and fridge for food. She wasn’t surprised by that; he looked far too skinny to be healthy. She wondered how long he had been in his state of malnourishment. She had already speculated that the scars on his back and down his arms were most likely inflicted prior to his abduction.

Eventually, the smell of food drew her back into reality. She was surprised to find Ethan just behind her. He knelt over the coffee table devouring cold chicken, ice cream, and chips without any regard for appropriate palate order. At one point, he even dipped his chicken into the ice cream. She smiled and sat back against one of the chairs to watch him.

He paused with stuffed cheeks and looked at her. “Do you want some?”

Despite being famished she shook her head. She got the impression he would have held back eating so much if he knew he needed to share. Given his condition, she didn’t want to interrupt. She had been on more calorie restrictive diets than the last two weeks. Besides, it was the least she could do to repay his kindness.

After a few minutes, Ethan let out a cavernous burp and sat back against the couch. “I’m so stuffed.” He looked back at her and shoved his plate over to her. “There’s a chicken leg there I haven’t touched.”

Satisfied that he was indeed done, she leaned over and took the untouched chicken. It tasted like heaven—cold, chewy, glad-to-be-alive heaven. After she finished the chicken, her hunger spiked, demanding more than the meager drumstick as a meal. “Any ice cream left?”

“Yeah.” He shoved over the carton. “You want a new spoon?”

“No, I’ve had worse than cooties.” She gave him a half smile.

Ethan moved to toast his body by the fire. He rotated himself like a pig on a spit. Cori eventually gave in and grabbed the chips off the coffee table too. She was hungrier than she thought. “I’m surprised he doesn’t have a big screen TV sitting above that mantle instead of dead animals,” she said between bites.

“He probably couldn’t get reception out here,” Ethan pointed out.

“And where is here?”

“I think we're in western Russia.”

“Siberia?”

“Sort of.” Ethan shrugged. “I'm still trying to figure out what happened to that village. That was not an earthquake.”

“Yeah.” Cori nodded. “That was too weird.”

“You don't think it really moved, do you?” he asked.

“I don't know. I have as many questions as you do.” 

“Maybe we should check the rest of the house.” Ethan nodded to the hall leading to the open staircase. “We might get some answers.”

She looked back at the other half of the house. Perhaps there was a backdoor. “Yeah, that's a good idea.”

They searched the remaining rooms down the hall on the lower floor, but didn't find a backdoor. They found a master bedroom with bland beige walls and simple furnishings, a pristine bathroom, a laundry room, and a study with ample books. None of the rooms contained a television or anything resembling modern electronics.

“Well, he has books,” Ethan said, fanning his finger over the books lining the wall in the study. “If we read past the boring descriptions of inanimate objects, it might be like watching a sitcom.” He pulled out a dusty, red, leatherback book with yellowing pages and a spine that cracked when he opened it.

Cori rummaged through the study desk for anything that might clue her in to what she had gotten herself into. Or at least something that might help her get out of said predicament.

The only thing of interest on the desk, was a red rotary phone. Unfortunately, the antiquated device, was missing the finger plate that would allow her to dial. There was just a single button in the center. That was perhaps her answer though. The key to her buyer's true identity.

He was Batman.

“Check out these titles.” Ethan pulled out a few more books. “The Hobgoblin Lineage, Mating Habits of Merfolk, Examining the Werewolf Hierarchy, Understanding Vampiric Digestion.” Ethan laughed and shoved all but one of the books back into place. “This place just keeps getting stranger and stranger. What do you make of this guy?”

“I don’t make anything of him. I don’t plan to get to know him well enough to make anything of him.” Cori slumped back in the desk chair. 

“Oh, yuck, there's pictures!” Ethan grimaced at the remaining book in his hand. “You have to look at this. It's like porn for fish.” He laughed raucously at his discovery and turned another page. “

“Aren't you freaked out?” Cori asked, shocked that he could find any humor in this situation.

He looked up at her still holding his smile. When he saw the stern look on her face, his delight faded. “I was freaking out two days ago when I got a rag full of chloroform shoved in my face. And when I woke up half naked in a dog kennel. And when I was standing in line waiting to be bought like a piece of meat.” Ethan clapped his book shut and shoved it into place with the other red leather spines. “Now I'm just locked in a house with you. Not the worst thing I've been through so far this week.” He shrugged and left the study.