The Darkest of Dreams

by Emigh Cannaday

  “Oh, I’m sure it is,” she sarcastically spat. “Listen, I don’t care what you say—I’m not going anywhere! Besides, I have to stick around for the trial. Ambrose told me that I’ll be summoned to testify as a witness.”

  “Yes, and therein lies the primary explanation as to why I’m offering to take you away from here first thing in the morning,” he said. There was a serious yet calm expression in his eyes, like he would never accept the word ‘no’ for an answer, and he would never accept ‘yes’ by force. He inhaled another lungful of smoke and then took the cigarette holder out of his mouth, giving it a delicate tap off to one side. Given the state of the kitchen, there was no harm in letting the ashes fall to the floor. “Your mind-cloaking isn’t as bad as I’d expected, but you’re still not skilled enough to conceal your thoughts from three different provincial court judges. They’re going to ask you some very personal and outright invasive questions about your husband; questions which will become public record forever. I’m concerned that your answers—regardless if they are true or false—will condemn Talvi to a death sentence.”

  “How could anything I say make him get the death penalty?” she cried out.

  “You’ve seen too much of what he’s done,” said Cyril. “That’s why no one in his family knows exactly what he does for a living. Not even Ambrose has seen the extent of what you have. If you take the stand and the judges learn what you know about the true nature of your husband’s work then he is destined for death. Not only that, but national security would be severely compromised if word gets out that our countryside Casanova is actually a highly trained assassin.”

  Annika immediately glanced away from him, smoking in silence as she formulated her response. The vision of a large man in a fine suit burst into her memory. So did the image of Talvi dragging him into a bathtub. She took a deep breath, trying desperately to push the image from her mind and calm her pulse. She hoped that the expression on her face wasn’t giving her away.

  “An assassin?” she finally snorted, and looked him in the eye. “I don’t know where you heard that, but you’re wrong. The only place he makes a killing is with money. He’s in mergers and acquisitions, just like you said.”

  Cyril cocked an eyebrow at her and almost cracked a smile. Almost.

  “I only said that for the benefit of your friends. You and I both know the truth, which is that Talvi Marinossian is one of my best operatives.” Then Cyril’s eyebrow furrowed in concern. “He’ll do me no good if he’s locked in a cell for the rest of his life…or buried in the ground beside his poor brother. He has too many secrets that are too valuable to lose, and too many skills which can’t be learnt in the classroom. He’s a valuable asset…not only to me, but to his government, which is why I can’t allow you to testify.”

  Annika closed her eyes and shuddered as an eerie vision forced its way out of her memory. She saw Talvi dressed in his black suede traveling outfit, clutching a portly man in an expensive suit against his chest. They were standing in the tub of an opulent bathroom. She couldn’t tell where it was or when it was, but it didn’t matter. She knew all too well what was coming next.

  “I’m not telling you anything!” the man insisted as Talvi stepped out of the tub. Holding him tight against his chest, he ran the tip of his black-handled knife over the man’s mouth.

  “I’m fairly certain I can persuade you to spill your guts,” he crooned to the man. “It would be better for us both if you just tell me where the plans are.”

  “I’m not saying a word, you fiend!” the man growled back.

  “Very well,” Talvi sighed, and stuffed the man’s necktie into his gaping mouth. “Have it your way.”

  In an instant, he sank his knife into the bottom of the man’s stomach and yanked upward so violently that his intestines spilled out of his belly and into the tub. Talvi stood patiently throughout the muffled screams, watching the river of blood splash all over the walls and white porcelain. He let the body slide out of his arms and onto his own entrails before wiping his blade on the man’s lapel and heading for the sink. He rinsed the blood from his hands and spent an unusually long amount of time fussing with his hair before returning to the tub to rifle through the man’s pockets. After finding a piece of paper inside the jacket, he unfolded it, looked it over carefully, and then took out his lighter and set it on fire.

  Who was that man? she wondered for the millionth time since her husband had allowed her to see that dark place inside his mind. Who was that man, and what was on that paper?

  “That’s exactly what the judges will want to know,” Cyril said, jolting her out of her thoughts. “Unfortunately, the very government that requires Talvi to keep that information classified will not be able to come to his rescue.”

  “Why not?” Annika demanded in disgust. “He’s worked for you longer than I’ve been alive.” Cyril gave a little shrug, as if he were mildly annoyed.

  “It has to do with jurisdiction. If his brother’s death had been committed whilst within the bounds of his service to the empire, then the empire would extend its full protection to him. However, Finn was killed in a domestic dispute…a crime of passion, and there is nothing about the case that will get Talvi off the hook for refusing to reveal secrets that he pledged to keep.”

  Annika’s free hand rose up to cover her face, and she sighed heavily.

  “I’m barely following along with what you’re saying.”

  “What I’m saying is that Talvi not only has to defend himself during his trial, but he’s required to uphold the bonds of his service to the empire. If anyone were to reveal his state secrets as a result of any unrelated testimony given, he’ll most likely be prosecuted by the empire’s secret courts. They’ll find him guilty without question. I can’t recall how many jobs he’s carried out, but it’s enough to hang him a dozen times over.” His voice broke a little as he spoke, and he took a second to clear his throat. Annika could only stare in disbelief. “He couldn’t be pressed harder between a rock and a hard place. His only hope is to plead guilty of self-defense and be convicted of involuntary fratricide…nothing more. The penalty for that ranges anywhere from a hundred years to life in prison. However, if you take the stand, and if your testimony hints at what he’s truly capable of, then he doesn’t stand a chance. That’s why I need him to plead guilty and show enough remorse that he’s given the minimum sentence of a hundred years. It shouldn’t be difficult for him. I daresay he’s more devastated than we are.”

  Annika’s mouth became a flat line as she clenched her jaw. It was too much all at once. Things looked darker than grim for Talvi, and Finn’s body hadn’t been in the ground for more than an hour, and now she was expected to go home and move on already? Cyril gave the slightest shrug and lifted the short cigarette holder to his lips. The two of them remained perfectly still as they studied each other. The only thing that moved was Cyril’s mouth when he exhaled the smoke. He was so naturally elegant, like a perfectly preserved specimen from another era. His demeanor was so unbearably calm. He could be lying. Maybe he wasn’t. Maybe he was telling her the painful truth. Could he be trusted? She felt such anger towards him, but she couldn’t understand why.

  “You’re angry because your husband has yet again placed you in an impossible situation,” he informed her, which sent her mind reeling. “You’re angry because he’s taken everything that you loved about him and twisted into everything you could possibly hate about him. To make matters worse, you’re forced to wear an eternal reminder on your left ring finger of everything he’s done to you. You’d love to take it off, cast it aside, and forget his name…but you know you never will. You’ll be tethered to him for the rest of your unimaginably long life, not with decades to dwell on the impact he’s had upon you, but centuries. Stop me if I’m wrong.”

  A lump was starting to form in Annika’s throat, and all she could do was nod her head in agreement in between puffs of her cigarette. Satisfied with her reaction, Cyril went on.

  “
As I said earlier, you’re good at concealing your thoughts when you make the effort…but you’re not good enough to fool three experienced judges. Now then; the coach will be here at dawn so I’ll come for you shortly before we’re to leave. I was told that you didn’t have much to pack.”

  “You’re expecting me to leave in less than twelve hours?” she spluttered. “The trial isn’t going to happen for weeks. Couldn’t I refuse to testify?”

  “In theory, yes, but you’d be damning both yourself and your husband by committing such an act,” he replied with a thoughtful expression. “It would all be for naught because you’ll be forced to reveal what you know against your will, and then you would both be convicted of withholding valuable information from the court. Believe me when I say that you do not want to go to prison here. You’re not cut out for it.”

  “Is it any worse than being chained up in a slaughterhouse and attacked by vampires over and over?” she challenged. “Somehow I made it through that just fine! Plus I held my own against the Pazachi.”

  “You survived those encounters because you had allies by your side,” he reminded her. “In prison you’ll have none the moment they learn your last name.”

  “As far as I’m concerned, my last name is Brisby, not Marinossian,” she argued. It didn’t matter to Cyril, who was already shaking his head before she’d finished speaking.

  “To be perfectly blunt, my dear, nobody cares what you think. At least, not enough to make a difference. As far as the general populace is concerned, you’re a modern girl. You don’t belong in our world.”

  Annika frowned, but she didn’t argue with him.

  “You have heard that these are particularly volatile times we’re living in, have you not?” he went on. “That’s why you fought against the Pazachi last winter; because they tried to take the laws of nature into their own hands.” He paused to tap away the ashes of his cigarette before continuing to speak. “The siren-song of the modern world has reached every province in the empire, and it cannot be ignored any longer. Do you understand that this issue is turning communities against one another? The entire population is divided on whether or not to completely sever ties between Earth and Eritähti. Surely even in a small village like Derbedrossivic you’ve heard rumors of the social unrest.”

  “I’ve heard them, but how am I involved?” she shot back. “I’m not the one tearing your society apart!”

  “On the contrary, you have become guilty by association.” Cyril tilted his head and eyed her curiously. “You do understand that romantic relations between humans and elves are still forbidden, do you not? It happens on occasion, but it’s strictly against the law.”

  Once more, Annika gave an unruly toss of her head and nodded in agreement. A contented sound came from Cyril’s chest, as if he was pleased that he didn’t have to start at square one with her. His eyes looked her up and down, but they weren’t observing her physical features. Instead, his gaze ventured past her small stature and studied the soul of the fiery and spirited young woman before him.

  “Talvi has informed me that you’re no longer human, and this is knowledge that mustn’t be shared with the general public, lest it draw more negative attention your way,” he went on. Her eyes widened but Cyril’s unruffled nature kept her from becoming alarmed. “You’re safer being thought of as nothing more than a human woman. Unfortunately, the nature of Finn’s death has caused the news of it to spread far and wide throughout the realm. Your name has been mentioned in every article of every newspaper printed within the empire. Your status as a human has also been mentioned, as well as the fact that you are a modern girl. Given that intimate relations between elves and humans is seen as taboo, I trust that you realize there will be consequences for marrying one and allegedly seducing another. The fact that they’re brothers has made your situation exponentially worse.”

  “But I didn’t seduce him! That’s why I want to stay here and try to set the record straight,” she argued. “If I can just lay low until things settle down after the trial, maybe…” She trailed off as she tried to gather her thoughts well enough to make her case, but Cyril shook his head.

  “You could speak until you’re blue in the face, but it will never change the fact that you’re seen as a home wrecker. If you believe you’re capable of conveying your innocence, then it appears I have the unfortunate duty of reminding you that you’ve already been convicted of being a modern girl. You’re guilty of marrying someone forbidden to you. You’ve all but destroyed a very powerful family. Even if you didn’t outright seduce Finn, you’ve seduced nearly every pair of eyes and ears in the land by your involvement in his death. The press has painted you as the lynchpin that will lead to the downfall of our society.”

  “Is that really what they’re saying?” she gasped. “Is that why no one’s let me read any of the papers? Is it that bad?” Cyril gave her a dark look.

  “No. What they’re actually saying about you is considerably worse. You must believe me when I say this will not settle down anytime soon,” he said with a skeptical frown. “You’re thinking of your fast-paced modern life where things blow over in a fortnight and are rarely mentioned again. Life on this side of the veil is slow, Annika, particularly in the countryside. The smaller the village, the slower things are to change. It’s going to be years, if not decades, before the worst of this storm passes through the empire. There are a lot of frightened and angry individuals looking for someone to blame…or worse. It’s become quite routine to blame modern humans for all the ills in our world, and you’re being absurdly naïve if you believe yourself immune to their misplaced anger. That’s why I’ve brought an additional team of Sanctorum Militum with me. They’re not all here for my protection, you know.”

  Now it was Annika’s turn to frown skeptically at him.

  “I’m sorry, Santorum what?”

  “Sanctorum Militum. Sacred knights,” he explained. “Paladins…or sacred soldiers, depending on your preferred terminology. They’re our version of MI6, only better. They will be escorting us back to London and then Tripp and Adams will continue on to Portland with you. They have instructions to provide you with constant protection round the clock until their services are no longer required.”

  “Oh really? And how long will that be?” she challenged, putting one hand on her hip.

  “Until the money to pay them runs out. Or until your name no longer means what it currently does.” Cyril gave her a sympathetic look. “Let’s hope the money lasts, because at the moment your name doesn’t mean anything pleasant. It would take a bloody miracle for the general public to change their opinion of you.”

  She couldn’t help but shake her head at the hopelessness of her predicament. Maybe this was truly the reason why none of the Marinossians had brought a newspaper anywhere near her. Maybe there was a reason why she hadn’t been allowed out of the house since the night of the murder. She took another drag and let it out slowly while keeping a stiff upper lip.

  “How long do you think it will take for everyone to stop hating me?”

  “I can’t rightly say, although not everyone hates you,” he said with a thoughtful expression. “Actually, there are quite a few nonconformists out there who admire your nerve and audacity to marry a Marinossian. The trouble is that your involvement in Finn’s death has made you the poster child for the anti-modern movement. The traditionalists are better organized and better funded than those in favor of adopting a more modern lifestyle. If it were up to them, we wouldn’t have any travel between our worlds at all.”

  He paused to inhale another breath of smoke, which gave Annika just long enough to process everything he’d said up to that point. He gave the cigarette another soft tap and rested his weight on one leg, as if he were physically preparing to change the direction of his next approach.

  “Aside from the objective of keeping you safe whilst keeping the peace, I do have a more personal reason for escorting you home as soon as I can.” His eyes surveyed the kitchen as he
gracefully motioned to the holes in the walls and the piles of blood-stained rubble on the floor. “I’m of the opinion that your presence among the Marinossians is not conducive to their grieving and healing process.”

  Annika was taken aback.

  “Are you saying that I’m making it worse just by being here?”

  For the first time since meeting him, she saw pity in his eyes.

  “Look at it from their perspective, my dear girl. When they look at your face, do you think it brings them comfort or pain?”

  There. He’d said it out loud. The one thing that no one else had dared to speak, unless it was behind her back, and he’d said it right to her face. She knew he was absolutely right. A great ball of thick sobs clawed its way out of her chest, and she clapped her free hand over her mouth to avoid having them heard beyond the kitchen. Tears rolled down her cheeks and landed on the dirty floor as a new layer of sadness was illuminated.

  “They don’t blame you, my dear,” Cyril went on in that relaxed voice of his. “On the contrary, they love you too much to ever dream of asking you to leave. However, I don’t expect the healing to progress very far or very fast if you are constantly around to reopen their wounds. And if something sinister were to happen to you whilst under their care, you and I both know they could never forgive themselves. Would you agree with those observations?”

  Still crying, Annika nodded her head. The reality began to set in that she’d lost just about everyone and everything that meant anything to her. It was too much pain to hit her all at once. Instead, it seeped under her skin with each second that passed by. The forgotten cigarette had now burned down to her fingers, and she held onto it in a desperate attempt to have it wake her up from this terrible dream.

  But it wasn’t a dream; the searing cinders on her skin made sure that she knew this one miserable fact. She finally let the cigarette go before it caused any more pain than she already felt. Cyril reached over with his toe and stubbed it out, then put a comforting hand on her shoulder. There was a burst of warmth and concern for her well-being, which only made her cry harder. It was exactly the sort of thing Finn would’ve done.