by Zach Adams
It was a better universe… When the æ’géminë were a myth.
The shaking footsteps stopped entirely. Isaac sank to the ground, planting his backside in a small pile of snow. He trembled, unsure if it was from terror or a cold ass. He dug into his backpack and fished a pill and a water bottle and proceeded to toss the medication down his throat.
“There you are!” A familiar voice said. Isaac looked up and saw L’æon appear on his left, from the shadows.
Before Isaac could respond through his shock and fury, the vampire continued.
“Isaac, I am so sorry, I tried to find Lucinda, but the monster appeared. I could not stop it. The vampire has your friend now, I am so sorry, he is gone…”
Isaac choked on a response that vanished between his brain and his mouth. A few unintelligible syllables stuttered out in its place. He felt his fists clench, so the nails dug into his palms, and realized abruptly that he was preparing to jump on the lying, murdering, silver-haired freak.
“I began setting an emergency enchantment when Lucinda ran away, it should be ready now,” L’æon said as he traced a finger through the air in a vertical line in front of Isaac.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Isaac demanded. He raised his hands to fight.
“I will find the beast myself, but I can still save one life today,” L’æon concluded. He snapped his fingers.
The street, the trees and buildings, and the air around Isaac all shimmered and washed away like water down a window.
The vampire was gone and for a moment, everything was black. Isaac blinked. When his eyes opened, he was standing on a bus bench near a street sign which read ‘Spenard Rd.’ with his head and gut spinning in opposite directions.
Chapter Eighteen: Birds of a Feather
?2018?
Isaac pulled a light hooded jacket covered with the main cast of Star Wars from his backpack. It didn’t do much to fend off the chill of an evening in the ass-end of December, but it was better than the torn-up work outfit underneath. He slipped the coat on and zipped it to his neck as he took in his surroundings. As he did, said neck reminded him harshly of his recent injuries.
Isaac tried to think of the closest place he could lay low. His own apartment was out of the question - for starters, it was entirely too far away. If anyone spotted him walking there, he could be putting Chloe in danger.
The only safe place we had was Donny’s house, Panic whimpered.
The thought felt like a punch in the gut. It was his fault he had lost it, his fault that Donny had been taken by a vampire. Isaac got a death grip on the nearest tree while he muscled through his thoughts.
I brought L’æon there, knowing - well, suspecting - what he was.
It was that or get locked up. There was no other choice.
And it was my invitation that handed Donny right to him!
Isaac wasn’t sure when, but at some point, he had lost his grip on the tree and settled on the ground, ignoring the snow melting through his pants.
“Where can I go?” Isaac asked no one. He opened his backpack and thrust a hand in, searching for anything that might be helpful. He came back with a papercut on his index finger.
“Shit!” Isaac blurted as he yanked his hand back. He fetched a bandage from the bag’s front pocket and wrapped his fingertip in it. More cautiously this time, he went digging for whatever he had cut himself on. He closed his hand on a small strip of paper at the bottom of the bag and pulled it out for examination.
It was Tobias’s address, which by a wildly convenient coincidence was only a several minute walk down the road. Uneasily thrilled that something had finally gone well today, Isaac headed in that direction, piling up cover stories he could offer when he saw his cousin.
Isaac found the shabby old apartment building that matched the numbers in his hand. The warped and splintered wood of the building had been painted brown, the owner apparently not realizing what wood looked like, but the paint was peeling off in great ugly patches.
Isaac spotted a canary-yellow Volkswagen Beetle in the undersized, cracked, and weed-infested parking lot. A little stuffed falcon hung from the rearview mirror.
Yes sir, that is Tobias’s car, Isaac thought. He double-checked the address and looked for #12, which he found nestled in a dark corner next to the communal laundry room. He hesitated momentarily, and then knocked on the door three times.
“Just a minute!” Tobias called from inside. Isaac heard something crash.
“Damn it all, I just got these organized, Dominic won’t be pleased,” Isaac heard Tobias’s muffled voice say inside.
A few seconds later, the door swung open, and there stood Tobias Falcone, staring dumbstruck at his visitor in a set of maroon flannel pajamas and yellow rubber gloves, his wire-framed glasses hanging lopsided near the end of his nose.
“Hey, Toby,” Isaac said sheepishly.
“Don’t call me that, Ivy.” Was his cousin’s reply.
“Don’t call me that.”
“Mind if I ask why you’re at my apartment looking like you just got thrown out of a moving vehicle?”
Isaac hadn’t come as prepared for this conversation as he thought. He politely asked to come in, and his cousin stepped aside to clear the path.
Tobias’s apartment was fairly similar to home - without a balcony or Chloe’s obsessive cleanliness and the kitchen being where Isaac’s living room would be. Pens, bits of fabric and paper, and loose clothing littered the furniture and floor. There were multiple shelves devoted to different collections, all connected to birds; One crammed with books, one with models, one with photos Tobias must have taken himself. A small handful of feathers, four brown and gray but one a brilliant gold with streaks of silver, rested in a glass display case next to a pair of binoculars.
“There’s an extra towel in the bathroom, use it to clean yourself off.” Tobias said sternly. “Fair warning though, I’m out of peroxide. I don’t want you getting blood on my books.” Isaac smiled weakly back at him.
“Yeah, then I’d have to fine you for the damage,” He said. “I have a towel in my backpack. I’ll be right back.”
Isaac stepped into the bathroom and finally got a good look at himself. His face was bruised and dripping from several places with great purple streaks on his neck. His left eye was so swollen and dark he thought Oompa Loompas might start singing. His lower lip and nose were both swollen as well, and dripping blood. He resembled someone who had just been in an automobile crash with a several-feet-tall werewolf-vampire.
Isaac took off his Star Wars coat. The sweater and button-down underneath were torn and dirty but not unsalvageable.
Good, I like this sweater, Isaac thought. He neglected to investigate further, knowing Tobias was waiting outside.
Isaac dug out a royal blue towel emblazoned with a bold, red number forty-two. Chloe had given it to him for Christmas. He doused a corner in warm water and gingerly pressed it to his face. Every spot he touched burned from the abuse.
After several minutes of wincing and gasping, he had finally cleared his flesh of any escaped bodily fluids. He quickly choked down a pill for pain and one for nerves before he returned to meet Tobias.
Tobias gestured with a still-gloved hand for Isaac to take the seat next to him without looking away from the massive textbook on the coffee table in front. Isaac took the seat and waited for his cousin to speak first. He did.
“The news says you killed something like fifty people. Care to explain?”
“I was set up,” Isaac mumbled, doing his best to believe his own revised version of the story. “I was there by coincidence, but someone is after me. Actually, I tried to help the people in the museum.”
Tobias raised an eyebrow, uncertain if he bought it. In his experience, Isaac was generally an honest person in his opinion, but one couldn’t afford not to be suspicious. He had a hunch that something was missing.
“How did you get away?” Tobias asked.
“The simplest answe
r is, I just did,” Isaac said. He felt he needed to redirect the conversation somehow but found the task to be near-impossible. “How’s Chloe, have you talked to her?” He finally asked. Tobias sighed.
“A mess, honestly,” He admitted. “Her friend Sarah is at the apartment with her. The police have asked her about you twice already. She’s called here four times since this morning. But don’t change the subject, why would someone be after you?” The elder Falcone stood with his arms crossed and head tilted. The stern parent look sharpened the resemblance to Uncle Vic, and Isaac felt himself getting defensive on reflex.
“I’m not sure yet why,” Isaac began slowly, struggling to find the right words. “I think… I’m certain I’ve figured out who it is. I’m looking for something that can help me stop them.”
Tobias massaged his temples with his eyes shut tight. When this didn’t do anything helpful, he took a deep breath, pushed his glasses back up the bridge of his nose, and folded his hands just below his mouth. It was several more seconds before he responded.
“Who’s after you, Isaac?” Tobias asked, concern overtaking suspicion now. “It’s not Alex Volkov, is it? He had that Luther kid killed last year. Do you remember those twins, from Baxter? Yeah, the smaller of the two, I forget his name, he vanished right after Volkov came back to town. Please tell me you didn’t see him again.”
“Adrian. Yeah, I remember him,” Isaac said. He hadn’t talked to the Luther twins since high school but had heard the news when it happened. Chloe had talked him into appearing at the funeral to at least see Dante, who was nowhere to be found when they arrived.
“No, it’s not Volkov,” Isaac went on. “Well, maybe he might be at this point, who the hell knows… Damn it all, if it wasn’t for L’æon, none of this -” He froze in mid-sentence, realizing what he had just said.
Oh, shit, floated idly through his mind.
Tobias was similarly frozen, which Isaac found alarming. His jaw hung loose, and his eyes became saucers. For entirely too many moments, neither of them made a sound.
“W-what did you just say?” Tobias gasped.
“Uh… Buh” Isaac stammered back at him.
“Isaac, how do you know that name?”
“How do you?”
“You first.”
With few alternatives left, Isaac explained everything. The words just tumbled from his lips like exorcism-induced projectile vomit. From the hollow attack in the library, to the moura attack in the museum, to the vampire attack downtown, all wrapped up neatly in the impending apocalypse, and finally the fact that he was sick and [creatively assembled string of expletives deleted] tired of getting attacked and would like to go home.
Unwilling to relive the fight again, Isaac quickly glossed over Donny’s capture. He explained how miraculously, too miraculously he thought, L’æon would show up to stop the danger and “save his life” and yet, things just kept getting worse. Whenever he mentioned L’æon, Tobias made a face like someone about to argue. Isaac could almost hear the gears in his head being spun by a torrent of “Well, actually,”.
Finally, Isaac said, “L’æon is the one trying to kill me.”
After another pause, Tobias did his best to pass a laugh as clearing his throat. “The story? No, that’s impossible,” He said.
Isaac bristled. “It is absolutely not impossible. I know he claims he’s an elf but… Wait, did you say story?”
“Yes, ‘L’æon Úë’sälúm ä Tä’süä’,” Tobias told him. “It’s a document this teacher acquaintance of mine found right before I came back home, but we couldn’t get any farther than the title. I can assure you plenty of the things you mentioned - vampires, for a start, and their pets – are quite real. But I’ve never found evidence that elves were ever anything but stories. Dangerous ones, if the wrong people hear them.”
Then who the hell has been following us? Panic asked.
“Well, that was the name he gave me, but I think he actually is the vampire,” Isaac said. “Twice now he’s been conveniently around to throw fancy magic when I was attacked by zombies -”
“Hollows,” Tobias interrupted.
“Yes, hollows, whatever,” Isaac said. “And some of them used to work for Volkov. He popped up at the museum as well. Then, as soon as L’æon, or whoever the floody buck he is, decided we should split up, a beast-mode vampire swooped in to trash my car. Well, I guess ramming right into him with it didn’t help either. We tried to get away on foot, but… Donny…” Isaac began to breathe rapidly. Suddenly his palms were sweaty, his knees went weak, and his arms felt like spaghetti. It took effort not to vomit all over his sweater.
Tobias’ mouth opened for a moment to ask what Isaac meant, but closed it again when he understood. He excused himself for a moment and wandered toward the kitchen while he thought.
During the pause, Isaac examined more of his cousin’s collections. The lone gold-and-silver feather fascinated him. It gleamed like metal in moonlight, despite none currently touching it.
Several minutes later Tobias returned, with two steaming eggshell-colored mugs of tea and a plastic bag full of ice. He handed a mug and the ice to Isaac.
“Earl Grey, decaf,” Tobias said. “I thought it might help us both relax. Put the ice on your face.” He resumed his seat to Isaac’s right and placed his tea on the table.
“Look, Isaac, I’m really sorry about Donny,” Tobias continued. “Getting taken by a vampire, I wouldn’t wish it on anyone -”
Isaac waved his hands to change the subject. “L’æon mentioned that the details would be troubling,” He said. “I don’t need to know how specifically.” He shook his head and looked away, staring angrily into his tea.
Tobias started to awkwardly move a hand to his cousin’s shoulder in a sympathetic gesture but changed course halfway through. He knew how sensory overload could cause Isaac further discomfort at human contact. They let the unpleasant silence sit briefly.
“There was this conspiracy website I found, also,” Isaac told his cousin. Tobias almost seemed to cringe for a second before burying his face in his own teacup.
“Most of it was gibberish, the pictures were messy, and they didn’t have his name, but I recognized him. L’æon. They talked about all kinds of people who met him and died or disappeared. I know of a way to stop him. I just need to… find the rest of it.”
Tobias sighed, sucking down a mouthful of his still-steaming drink. He coughed as the hot liquid made it down his throat, and then a thought occurred to him. He replaced the mug on the table, nearly knocking it onto his feet in the process.
“Oh god,” Tobias said. “Oh god no, not you too. You’re after the Book of L’æsälum.”
For a time, which felt uncomfortably like a blink and eternity simultaneously, everything was still. Tobias stared at Isaac in terror. Isaac stared back at Tobias in confusion.
Finally, Isaac nodded. His cousin stood and paced around the room a few times, holding his forehead between the thumb and index of his left hand. Isaac kept his seat and watched.
“Was it something I said?” Isaac asked. Tobias finally stopped pacing and looked at him, prepared to say something. When that something didn’t work, he tried a few more somethings. None of them worked either.
“Look, Tobias,” Isaac said. “I haven’t done anything illegal, no matter what the news says. I found a Page in the library, that night you came by. A flock - or I don’t know what would be the right word, a murder? A murder of hollow showed up right after I finished reading it, and -”
“I think the proper plural term for hollow is a knot. How could you have read it?” Tobias interrupted. “It’s not written in a language any human can understand on their own.” He returned to his seat and drained the remainder of his tea in a single gulp.
“Yeah, elvish,” Isaac spoke through clenched teeth. Tobias shook his head. “L’æon said the exact same thing, humans can’t read it, reality collapsing, blah blah blah. But for whatever reason, it translated. And when I said
some of the words on it, things happened. I know I didn’t imagine it. For that matter, how the hell do you know so much about it if normal people can’t?”
“The simplest answer is, I just do,” Tobias rubbed his eyes and excused himself to get more tea. He offered Isaac another cup, but he wasn’t finished with the first.
About three and a quarter minutes - Isaac lost count - of silence passed.
He’s sure not going out of his way to clarify too much, Rage said.
Yeah, if none of this is even possible for us primitive sapien types, where’d he get it from? Panic agreed. Tobias was already speaking when he re-entered the living room.
“Putting aside the fact that there can’t be a language for a species that doesn’t exist, for the moment. You see Isaac, there are certain laws that can’t be broken. For instance, if one of us attempts to channel supernatural currents without a sufficient focus to filter it, their mind would cave in and their heart would explode within their chest. Humans can have energy pushed through them by other beings, almost like a battery, but that’s usually not pretty. Batteries tend to run out of juice. I would estimate a thousand years or three at minimum before we evolve far enough to overcome all that.”
Tobias stopped talking, waiting for Isaac to get what he was saying. When his cousin took too long to catch on, he continued.
“I believe you when you say that you said the words, and something happened. But as far as I know the only way that’s possible - the only way you’re still alive - is that someone is channeling power through you. Someone may actually be trying to kill you.”
Isaac let out a single, shaky laugh. A few more followed in rapid succession. Four sharp, slow chuckles followed. He rested his head on the fingertips of his left hand, and within seconds burst into hysterical half-sobbing laughter.
“So, who could this vampire really be?” Isaac choked out once he regained the ability to breathe. Tobias avoided eye contact.