by Amy Cross
“You can't change what happened to her!” I snapped.
“Help me change history.”
“Judith would hate you!” I added. “She'd hate what you've become!”
I saw a flicker of anger on his face, but only for a moment.
“What I have or have not become,” he replied, “does not matter. Once we reset the course of history, none of this will even have happened. We'll have to be very careful, so that we don't accidentally negate our own actions, but I've found a nice little quantum loop that will take care of that. I've had many years to plan this out, Chloe, and I know exactly what we have to do. It's not even very difficult, not really. It's just a matter of getting on with things. But I do require your assistance, and I rather think that this time you'll be willing to help me. Let's wipe the misery away. Let's put things right.”
I stared at him, and I realized I could see the madness in his eyes. It was the same madness that I'd first seen all those years ago, back in the Second World War.
“You're insane,” I said finally.
“I know,” he replied, “but I've found ways to make it work for me.”
“I will never help you,” I told him. “That was my answer last time I saw you, and it's still my answer now!”
“Are you sure about that?” he asked, sounding strangely confident that I might change my mind. “Your precious granddaughter is dead. She seemed like a nice girl. There's one sliver of hope, and it's rather simple. Work with me, and we can bring her back. In the process we'll save Judith. I know you're in shock, and I know our history together is rather complicated, Chloe, but I'm hoping that you might finally see sense.”
He turned, looking toward Harriet's severed head, and then slowly he looked at me again. Reaching out, he took hold of my chin, forcing me to stare into his eyes.
“What's it going to be, Chloe?” he purred. “Do you care about your granddaughter at all? Will you help me put things right? We can do it, if we work together, so what's it going to be? Are you going to do the right thing?” He leaned closer. “Yes or no?”
Chapter One
Chloe
1944...
The Monastery of St. Accor the Holy lay in a valley to the east of Bordeaux, several hundred miles from Paris and about a twelve hour horse ride from the abandoned farm where I'd spent the previous night. It was dark by the time I arrived, but I immediately saw that the rumors seemed to be true. The monks were all camped out on the grass, huddled around fires, while the monastery itself stood shrouded in darkness.
As I brought Jean the horse to a halt and began to dismount, I could already tell that something was wrong. The rumors I'd heard had been... contradictory, and filled with wild embellishments. Most of those rumors, however, had one thing in common, a truth that seemed to be at the heart of the terror that was gripping the region: I had repeatedly been told that a vampire had recently arrived at the monastery and that he'd swiftly driven the monks out.
Now one of those monks was making his way toward me, silhouetted against the nearest campfire. He said something in French, and I – having picked up rather a lot of the local language in the two years since I'd arrived in wartime France – managed to reply in the same tongue. I just had to hope that I didn't sound too much like the policeman from 'Allo 'Allo.
“I'm looking for a man,” I told him, “or... someone. His name is Matthias Bane and I have reason to believe that he might be here.”
The man took a step closer, and now I could see the fear in his eyes.
“Matthias Bane,” I said again, hoping to cut to the chase pretty quickly. “I've ridden a long way, I've dodged German patrols, and it's vital that I see him. Is he here?”
“We do not know his name,” the monk replied, as several of the others began to come closer. “We know only that he arrived here not too long ago. He ran rampant, he drove us out of our home. He was like a demon, filled with rage. Since then, we have not dared go back into the monastery. Well, Father Grosjean went in, a few weeks ago. When he came out, his hair had turned white and he has not spoken since.”
“Can you help us?” one of the other monks asked, his voice filled with terror. “Please?”
I looked toward the dark, brooding monastery and I felt a tingling knot of anticipation in my chest. I'd been searching for Matthias for almost two years, and I'd begun to wonder whether I'd ever find him. Hugo had suggested that perhaps Matthias had left this world and gone to another. He'd spoken cryptically of strange places filled with monsters and desolation, even a world that was entirely a library. I'd insisted, however, that Matthias was still close. Somehow I'd felt his presence, and now it seemed that I'd been right. Hugo had warned me against the trip south, he'd argued that it was time for our long-planned move to London, but I'd insisted. I had to find Matthias. And now I had.
“We'll do anything,” another monk begged. “Help us. Rid us of this demon.”
“He's not a demon,” I replied. “He's a very naughty boy.”
“A what?” the monk asked.
“Never mind. Cultural reference, about thirty-five years too soon.” I stepped past them and began to make my way toward the monastery. “Hold tight, guys. This might take some time.”
“Good luck,” one of the other monks said. “We'll pray for you, that you manage to draw the demon out of our home. And that you can save the child as well.”
I took a couple more steps, before stopping close to one of the campfires. The flames flickered and crackled, and after a moment I turned and looked back at the assembled monks as they gathered behind me.
“What did you just say?” I asked cautiously. “What child?”
Chapter Two
Hugo
“My dear friends,” Antoinette gasped as she hurried after us across the beach, heading toward the boat that stood waiting in the rain, “are you sure you must go tonight? This storm is really picking up.”
“We've delayed for long enough already,” I snarled, feeling rather annoyed by her constant fussing. She'd always been Matthias's friend rather than mine; I'd always found her to be terribly irritating. Then again, without her, we'd have had a much harder time arranging safe passage to London.
“She might have a point,” Judith said, as we reached the boat and looked out at the vast, dark sea. “Why don't we wait until the storm has passed, Hugo? After all this time, a few more hours won't make much difference.”
“A few more hours here,” I said darkly, already setting my bag in the boat, “and a few more hours there.” I turned to her. “We've been waiting and waiting and waiting, all while we could have been moving. There are people in London, people I need to see. I need their expertise, and their equipment, and their advice. The longer I wait, the less likely I am to find a solution to this mess before...”
My voice trailed off.
“Before what?” she asked. “Forgive me, Hugo, but in the past few weeks you've suddenly seemed much more urgent. More worried. What has happened?”
I stared at her for a moment, and I briefly considered telling her what I'd discovered.
“Nothing,” I said finally, realizing that there was no point worrying her. Not while I was still awaiting confirmation. “I'm just tired of sitting still, that's all. What I need is in London.”
“Shouldn't we at least wait for Chloe?” she asked. “If she's found Matthias...”
“She hasn't found Matthias,” I said testily. “How many times over the past few years has she thought she's tracked him down? My brother is gone, Judith. He gave up on this world and he went to another, of that I'm sure. No-one knows him the way I know him. In truth, I don't know that he'll ever be back. I might not ever see him again. For now, though, I have to focus on the task at hand, and that means getting to London. Now are you going to climb into the boat, or do I have to leave you here?”
She hesitated, and then she began to clamber over the boat's side.
“Wait,” I added, touching her hand. “I didn't mean that. I would never leave you here.
”
“I know,” she replied. “I love you too.”
“I'd knock you out and force you to come,” I told her.
“I know,” she said, slipping her hand away as she climbed into the boat and began to find somewhere to sit. “I know you too well, Hugo.”
Supposing that there was no point arguing with her, I turned to find that Antoinette was still waiting with us. I'd rather hoped that she might get the message and simply leave, but evidently the tiresome woman had not yet understood that her services were no longer required. She was staring at me with the gawking expression of a simpering idiot.
“I suppose,” I said darkly, “that this is when you expect me to thank you for your assistance.”
“Well,” she replied, “I did arrange safe passage.”
“That you did.”
“And when those two soldiers almost caught us...”
“You stepped in,” I said. “I know. By the way, you still have a little...”
I touched the side of my mouth, and she – realizing what I meant – reached up and brushed some blood and bone from her lips.
“Thank you,” she replied. “Wait, why am I the one thanking you? Without my assistance, you'd still be scrabbling about in Paris. It's not as if the Underworld is safe to enter at the moment. Until the human war ends, it's impossible to get there.”
“Perhaps.”
“Well?”
“Well what?”
She raised an eyebrow.
“Fine,” I said with a sigh. “Thank you. Is that what you wanted?”
“There's one more thing,” she replied, and now her voice betrayed a hint of caution. Of fear, even. “I want to ask you something, about the future. You admitted that you entered Chloe's mind, and that you saw things that are yet to be. And obviously, considering my great importance to the world, it's only natural that you must have learned some details of my future magnificence. Now, I'm in no doubt as to the splendor of my -”
“Can you be a little more succinct?” I asked, interrupting her as the storm gathered strength all around us. “I would prefer to have this conversation finished by the time Hell freezes over.”
“How magnificent is my magnificence?” she continued. “In the future, I mean. Once I am restored to my rightful throne, is my reign merely stupendously wonderful or does it rise even further than that? I suspect that it's fantastic beyond even my wildest imaginings.”
“Well,” I replied, unable to stifle a faint smile, “it would seem that your future, your fate, is... complicated.”
“Complicatedly brilliant?”
“Antoinette,” I said with a sigh, “the truth is, you...”
My voice trailed off. Rain was falling, but beyond that there were tears in her eyes. Tears of joy, and of expectation. Tears of happiness at the thought of her greatest dreams coming true. I had seen a sliver of her future, enough to know that she would not last long, and enough too to understand who would be responsible for her fate. I briefly considered telling her these facts, before realizing that it might be unwise to arm her with too much information.
“You'll be fine,” I said finally. “Beyond that, it would be imprudent to go into detail.”
“Of course I'll be fine,” she replied with a broad, happy smile. “I already knew that, of course. Yes, I had no doubts whatsoever. I just wanted to hear it come from your lips, Hugo, and -”
Suddenly she turned and looked back into the darkness, as if something a little further from the beach had caught her attention.
“Soldiers?” I asked.
“Two. No, three. Yes, three, coming this way.” She turned to me, and I could see the hunger in her eyes. “Don't worry, I shall make short work of them. I could use the sustenance, before I commence my walk back to Paris. Can you believe that I have to walk? And when I get there, I must reside once more in that wretched pit beneath one end of a bridge. I have footmen, of course, and servants, but really... I must be out of there soon, back into a castle or at least a large house. Yes, definitely. Versailles would do, I suppose, and -”
Suddenly a voice shouted something in the distance.
“Antoinette,” I said gently, nudging her memory, “if you please... the soldiers.”
“Ah, yes.” She grinned. “Get going, my friends. Safe journey, and I hope to see you soon. In the meantime, I shall wait for Chloe to arrive for her crossing, and I shall pray that Matthias is with her. Good luck to you all.”
“We shall see,” I muttered as she hurried off into the darkness, heading in the direction of the shouting voice. “And I am not your friend.”
Turning, I began to push the boat into the choppy water. As I got it afloat, I heard the first scream in the distance, and I could not help but smile at the thought of three soldiers – probably young, naive fools barely out of school – being confronted in the dead of night by the sight of Her Royal Highness Queen Antoinette the Third rushing at them with plans for her own brand of mayhem. They would be dead within seconds. If they were lucky.
“Is Antoinette a vampire?” Judith asked.
“She's something rather unusual,” I told her, although I wasn't quite sure how to explain. “She would make a good vampire, though. I've occasionally thought about turning her.”
“Sometimes it scares me to think of the creatures that exist in the world. Antoinette scares me. There's something about her, something that seems so... powerful.”
“Are you ready?” I asked her as I climbed into the boat. “London is calling.”
“Perhaps we should wait,” she suggested.
“Wait?” I smiled. “I'm done waiting. I told you that already.”
“But no man can row a simple fishing boat through a storm like this,” she said, “across the English Channel at night, in a time of war!”
“I agree,” I replied, as I took hold of the oars. “No man could do that. So it's a good job, I'm sure you'll agree, that I am far more than just a man. Now hold on tight.”
With that, I began to row, even as the storm raged and as thunder began to rumble in the sky above. Rain crashed down, waves tossed us from side to side, and the noise of the maelstrom drowned out our voices.
Chapter Three
Chloe
The monastery's large, heavy wooden door creaked slightly as I pushed it open. I felt an immediate chill in the air, and – as I looked through and saw only pitch darkness ahead – I felt a very definite flicker of fear in my chest.
It's only Matthias, I told myself.
He won't hurt me.
Whatever he's up to, he won't actually hurt me.
I kept those thoughts in my mind as I slipped inside the monastery and let the door bump shut. Nevertheless, as I stood in absolute darkness and listened to the silence of the great building, I couldn't shake a ripple of fear that seemed to be dancing beneath my skin. It had been almost two years since I'd last seen Matthias, since he'd stormed away from the village, and in that time there had been no sign of him at all. I'd expected him to come and find us, and I'd been shocked when he hadn't. What, then, could have happened to him in the intervening couple of years? What would I find, when I finally found Matthias?
Fumbling for the flashlight that I'd brought from Paris, I flicked a switch on its side and cast a beam of light across the large, high-ceilinged hallway. The monastery's interior was some strange combination of grand and bleak. It was grand in the sense that huge stone columns rose up to support an intricate and ornate ceiling, and it was bleak in the sense that there was little in the way of any other decoration. And as I shone the light around and saw a large set of steps leading higher up into the building, I was starting to realize that the interior of the monastery was seriously cold. In fact, my teeth were almost chattering.
Suddenly I spotted something moving at the top of the stairs. A face appeared briefly in the flashlight's beam, before pulling back out of sight.
The face had not belonged to Matthias, of that I was sure, which meant that there was only
one possibility.
“Genevieve?” I called out in French, realizing that this must be the child the monks had mentioned. “I'm a friend. I'm just here to see Matthias.”
I waited, training the beam on the spot where the girl had been, but there was now no sign of her. The monks had told me that, when Matthias turned up at the monastery, he threw them all out along with a family that happened to be visiting at the time. At the last moment, however, he'd hauled the family's youngest daughter, a nine-year-old girl named Genevieve, back inside, and since then there had been no news of her fate. The family remained outside, tearfully waiting and hoping for good news. I'd told them that Matthias was no cold-blooded killer, that Genevieve would prove to be alive. Now I'd determined that I was right, although I was a little surprised that she'd hidden from me. I'd expected her to run to me and beg me to help her escape.
Instead, she seemed to be scared of me. That was... surprising, to say the least, and it suggested that all might not be as it seemed in the monastery.
Aiming the flashlight straight ahead, I began to make my way up the stone staircase. I was scared, but I was sure of one thing: I had to find Matthias Bane.
***
As it turned out, finding him was the easy part.
Within a few minutes, I reached an arched doorway that led into a huge room. I immediately saw the little girl, Genevieve, playing on the floor just a few feet away. She was making some kind of construction, using twigs and leaves, and after a moment she glanced at me. I offered a faint smile, which she didn't return, and then I aimed the flashlight past her and I felt a flicker of fear as soon as I spotted a figure sitting on what appeared to be a large wooden throne.
Matthias.
“It's okay,” I said in French to the little girl, as I stepped closer to her. “I'm going to take you back to your parents in just a few minutes. You're perfectly safe.”
She stared at me, as if she didn't understand, and then she looked back down and got on with her game.