by Jasper Kent
‘Don’t waste your time.’ I turned, as did Susanna. It was Dmitry who had spoken. ‘I doubt you’d get the truth from him anyway.’ I realized what he was going to say next at the same moment he uttered the words. ‘It’s at his old house, on Panteleimonovskaya Street.’
Susanna’s brow wrinkled. ‘No it isn’t,’ she said dismissively. ‘We already—’
I didn’t wait to hear the rest. I ran. The corridor was long, straight and dark, but I had a good idea of how far it was to the steps. Behind me I could hear feet pounding almost from the moment I began to move. I slowed to a walk and put my hands out in front of me. I’d judged it well. After only another foot I felt the rough stone of the spiral staircase against my fingertips. I moved my hands down and was relieved to discover that the doorway at the bottom was still open. The footsteps behind me were closer now. I didn’t hold out much hope, but still I bent forward to crawl through.
A hand grasped my ankle, gripping as tightly as Dmitry had held my wrist. It pulled and my body lurched backwards. I couldn’t move my hands fast enough and I fell forward on to my chest. My face banged on to the stone slab and I tasted blood. I began to slide across the floor, back in the direction I’d come. I tried to tilt my head up to keep it from scraping against the stone, but I knew I wouldn’t manage it for long. I kicked out with my free leg and twisted at the same time. The grip on my ankle became momentarily loose, but it hadn’t been my intention to escape. In a fraction of a second the hand gripped me again, but now I was on my back. It was still an uncomfortable way to travel, but at least I would be done no permanent harm.
‘Put him with the others,’ said Susanna.
Ilya reached down to me and I took his hand to haul myself up. I walked over and sat beside Nadya on the coffin. It took all my willpower not to embrace her. The urge had been just as strong ever since I had set eyes on her, but I’d had no power to act on my desires. Now it took all my will to suppress them.
Susanna faced Dmitry. ‘Did he tell you that? That it was at their house?’
‘One of them did,’ Dmitry replied. ‘I think it was Iuda.’
‘It hardly matters which. We’ve already torn the place apart – it’s not there.’
‘It’s at Gorohovaya Street 2,’ I said. They both turned and looked at me. There was no option but to tell her. Perhaps it was a stupid thing to do, but it was what Iuda was trying to prevent, so it seemed like a good idea. ‘The old Ohrana building,’ I continued. ‘They took it from me when I was arrested. It’s probably still there.’
‘Is that possible?’ She asked Dmitry rather than me.
‘Why should I tell you?’ he replied.
‘We’ll know soon enough.’ She turned to the vampire she’d addressed as Sandor. ‘Come with me. Ilya, you stay and make sure they’re here when I get back.’
‘All of us?’ asked Dmitry.
‘I’ve told you the truth,’ I said.
‘You very probably have, but I’ll be back within the hour, and if I have Ascalon then this will all be over.’
‘And you’ll let us go?’ said Dmitry.
‘That was the deal, wasn’t it?’
There was ambiguity in her voice, but she said nothing more. A moment later she and Sandor were gone. Ilya went over to the door and then looked towards us. ‘Don’t try anything. I’ll be just outside.’ He closed the door behind him and we heard the key in the lock.
I turned to Nadya and grasped both her hands in mine. I looked into her eyes. ‘It’s me now – honestly it is.’
She looked back at me, but only for a second, as if to confirm who I truly was, then she flung her arms around me. I wondered if she was really capable of telling the difference – even now that she knew there was a difference – but it would be better to let her believe that she could. We held each other for a few moments. I sensed Dmitry stand and pace across the room towards the door. I would have liked to stay like that for ever, but we didn’t have time to waste.
‘Did they hurt you?’ I asked.
She shook her head, but I could see that there were tears in her eyes. ‘I was fine. They even brought me food. But the worst of it was they left Ilya to guard me – my own brother. I couldn’t stop myself from talking to him. I’d convinced myself that it wasn’t him; that it was just his body that some monster had taken over. But it is him. It is.’ She was crying now. ‘I recognize him. The way he talks. The things he remembers. It’s not Ilya gone bad. It’s Ilya doing what he really wants. What he’s always wanted. He told me. And you’ve told me a dozen times; they have to be willing.’
‘I’m sorry I got you involved with this.’
‘It’s not your fault.’
‘I should have spotted what Iuda was doing.’ Looking back, I could almost remember writing the suggestion that Nadya stood there on the bridge myself. I wasn’t quite sure how Iuda had influenced me. Had he been in control of my hand as I wrote? That was how it generally worked. But was it possible that he could act in other ways? Could he simply plant a thought in my brain for me to act upon? If that was the case, then I had the slight consolation of knowing I might be able to do the same to him.
‘It doesn’t matter. Did you see Polkan?’
‘He’s fine,’ I said. God knew what might happen if Susanna encountered him on her way out.
Dmitry had been silent since Susanna’s departure, but now he spoke. ‘We need to get out of here,’ he said. He seemed to be in a state of shock.
‘I told her the truth,’ I said. ‘We can just wait till she comes back.’
Nadya gave a hollow laugh. ‘Why should she let us go once she has what she wants?’
‘It’s like I told you,’ said Dmitry. ‘However little Susanna cares for you, she loathes Iuda. She’d never let him go. As for Nadya – well, Susanna will be hungry when she gets back.’
He was right. It wouldn’t take them long to get to Gorohovaya Street from here. ‘Can you break down the door?’ I asked.
He shook his head. ‘Not with Ilya waiting on the other side.’
‘If we can get him in here, we can deal with him easily enough,’ said Nadya.
‘How?’ I asked.
She rapped on the coffin beneath us with her knuckles. ‘It’s made of wood, isn’t it?’
I understood what she was planning, but it was hard to believe she’d go through with it. ‘He’s your brother,’ I said, unable to express more than that simple fact. She stiffened and breathed in deeply through her nose, not daring to look into my eyes. Then a new resolution possessed her and she knelt down to prise open the lid.
Moments later we had it free. We rested one end of it against the side of the coffin, so that it sloped up like a ramp. It wasn’t anything fancy – just stained pine – so it wouldn’t be too difficult to break. I jumped up and landed with both feet square in the middle of the coffin lid. It bent and squealed, but did not break. As it flexed back to its natural shape I was catapulted into the air like a Chinese acrobat. I managed to land safely.
‘Let’s try together,’ said Nadya. She reached out across the lid and we braced ourselves against one another, hands gripping forearms. There was no need for a countdown. We looked at each other and then jumped together, landing on the thin sheet of wood at precisely the same moment. This time it offered little resistance and we found ourselves standing on the stone floor amongst its shattered remains.
‘What was that?’ shouted Ilya through the door.
‘Why don’t you come and see?’ I called back.
If he did, we would have to hurry. It took us only a few more seconds’ effort to smash the remains of the wood into smaller pieces. I kicked them around with the toe of my boot until I found one that looked suitable. It was sharp and strong. I’d probably get splinters in my hands from using it, but that didn’t matter. I picked it up and looked at the door, but there was no sign of Ilya coming in.
I turned to Dmitry, eager to show off my new weapon, but he wasn’t interested in the slightest. Instead
he was leaning over the filled-in well at the centre of the chamber, picking up bits of the rubble and broken bricks and casting them on the floor behind him. He was looking for something.
‘If you’re trying to find a weapon,’ I said, ‘I’ve already got one.’
‘We don’t need that kind of weapon,’ he said. Then he froze. He took two paces backwards, away from the well, his eyes fixed on it but to one side, as though he were trying to avoid looking at it directly. ‘Did Iuda ever tell you about the mirror he invented? The mirror that can allow a vampire to see its true image.’
‘He said something of it.’ In truth, it wasn’t very much. Iuda’s memories about it were guarded. He was proud of his invention, but terrified of it too. He’d never dared look into it himself for fear of what he might see. Dmitry was displaying a similar terror now.
‘There used to be one along that wall.’ He gestured behind him. ‘I was wondering if they might have dumped some of it here when they broke it all up.’
‘And did they?’
‘I think so, yes.’ He raised his arm and pointed, still making sure that he could only see it out of the very corner of his eye. ‘Get it for me.’
I shone the torch where he was pointing. Something glinted. I reached forward to take it, and then hesitated, drawing my hand back.
‘It’s no danger to you,’ said Dmitry.
I knew as much, but the fear I felt seemed primeval. It came from Iuda, who was fully aware of what was going on, even though he could not influence matters other than to make me afraid. The thought spurred me on. I grasped the fragment of glass between my fingers and pulled it out of the debris that encased it, wiggling it a little to set it free. At last it came loose. It was about the size of my hand; the sort of thing that a lady might carry to help her with her make-up, except for its sharp, jagged edges. Still Iuda’s fear influenced me, and I held it at such an angle that I would not see my own reflection.
In doing so, I inadvertently pointed it in Dmitry’s direction. He threw himself back against the wall and flung his arms up to cover his face.
‘Careful, you fool,’ he hissed. ‘Point it at yourself. It’ll do you no harm.’
I wasn’t so sure. I was possessed by Iuda’s spirit, and Iuda had been a voordalak. Who knew what we might see in there. I for one was curious, and Iuda’s trepidation piqued my interest still further. I turned the glass towards me. At first all I could see was the reflection of the room. I made sure I didn’t catch even a glimpse of Dmitry. It was as I’d expected from Iuda’s explanation. I could see two reflections of everything, separated by a fraction of an inch. The crystal from which the mirror was made bent the two polarizations of light along slightly different paths. I probably understood the science better than Iuda. In our solitary hours in the fortress I’d told him what I had read of the new quantum theories of light. He’d immediately begun to consider the ramifications of the theory. It was strange – I could almost look back on those unspoken conversations as happy memories.
I turned the mirror closer towards me. I could see the double reflection of my upper arm, and then of my shoulder, and finally of my face – two faces. I only saw it for a moment, but I would swear that the two images were different. One was familiar; I’d seen it almost every day: curled grey hair, a square face with a wide jaw, dark eyes, a nose that was slightly too large for the rest of the face. The only thing that surprised me was the beard that I’d grown while imprisoned. But the second face was familiar too. It was lean, with long, straight blond hair and pale, narrow eyes. I hadn’t seen it for many years, but now it was just what I should expect to see when looking at myself.
I pressed the glass up against my chest so that it could reflect nothing more. I could imagine no scientific reason why I should have seen Iuda’s face in it. The image was as likely to be a hallucination born out of my own anxiety as a genuine reflection, made up of rays of light.
‘See something?’ asked Dmitry.
I shook my head. ‘What did you want it for?’
Dmitry was over by the door now. He beckoned me to join him. ‘When I say, slip it under.’ Then he knocked sharply against the wood. ‘Ilya? Are you still there?’
The response was muffled, but clear enough to comprehend. ‘I’m not going anywhere.’
Dmitry sat down with his back to the door and began to speak. ‘I know what it’s like, Ilya.’
‘Know what what’s like?’ came the response.
‘I’ve done it too – shared my blood with another voordalak. It seems wrong at first, but then, after a while, you have to keep going back. And then it doesn’t feel so bad. It starts to seem like the right thing to do. But it’s not. What did she tell you, Ilya? How did she persuade you to start?’
He waited for an answer but none came. There was little doubt that Ilya was hearing every word.
‘It doesn’t matter, I suppose. What matters is how much you’ve changed. You won’t notice it – I didn’t – because it’s all such small steps. But look back. Once you were proud – had a will of your own. And now you can barely tell your thoughts from hers.’
It can’t have made pleasant listening for Ilya. It didn’t for me either. I could recognize too many parallels with my own state. Could I really tell which of the thoughts that passed through my head were mine and which were Iuda’s?
‘I got out, though – out in time,’ Dmitry continued, his voice quavering. ‘And you can too.’
‘I know what you’re trying to do.’ Ilya’s voice was unsteady now.
‘I’m trying to help you. I always have. When you returned to life, undead, I was the first other vampire you met, remember? I helped you then and I want to help you now.’
‘I don’t need your help. I have Anastasia.’
‘And she’s changed you, Ilya. You can’t see it, but I can. And I can prove it. I’ve got a mirror here, a special one, that’ll show you how you’ve changed. Do you want to see?’
There was no answer. Dmitry nodded to me and I put the mirror face up alongside the crack under the door, then gave it a little shove. It disappeared into the darkness, though I could still hear the sound of it scraping against the stonework until it came to a halt. Dmitry put his finger to his lips, though I’d not been planning on saying anything. Beyond the door there was only silence.
Then we heard the slightest cry. An intake of breath that just caught the vocal cords and made a sound like the grunt of an animal. In a human it would be the expression of the most profound misery – in a vampire too.
Dmitry was on his feet in a moment. He signalled to me to step back and then charged the door. On the first attempt a large crack appeared straight down its centre, but it did not yield. He ran at it again and this time the two halves separated – one remaining supported by the hinges and the other falling to the ground with a clatter.
Ilya sat slumped across the corridor. He held the mirror in one hand, resting it on his belly. He stroked its surface with a finger of the other, as if trying to touch whatever it was he saw in it. In an instant Dmitry was at his side, as though at a relative’s sickbed. He snatched the glass from him and threw it back into the room. I kicked it away into a corner. Dmitry dragged Ilya’s unresisting body into the chamber and leaned him against the wall. I stepped forward, raising the wooden stake we had created from the coffin lid and preparing to strike. Dmitry took a step back, still gazing down at his former comrade. Then he turned towards me, and saw what I was about to do.
His fist flashed out, catching the back of my hand and knocking the weapon from it. ‘What the hell are you doing?’ The expression on his face was of genuine horror. It did not suit the creature he had become. ‘There’s no need for that. He’s no danger any more.’
‘All right,’ I said. Even so I reached down and picked up the stake. My eyes never left Ilya, but his face was vacant and empty. He showed no sign even of being aware of our presence. ‘We might still need this later,’ I explained.
Dmitry thought abo
ut it for a moment, then nodded. ‘We need to get going,’ he said. ‘Fast.’
He went out into the corridor. I turned back to Nadya. She was standing among the splintered remains of the coffin lid. Her eyes too were fixed on Ilya. It can’t have been a pleasant scene for her to witness. After everything, he was still her brother.
‘Come on,’ I said. ‘Stay close.’
Her eyes flicked away from him and on to me. She nodded. I turned to follow Dmitry. He was already at the spiral staircase when I reached him, waiting for us to catch up.
‘Where’s Nadya?’ he asked.
I looked back, expecting to find her close behind me, but the corridor was empty. In the distance I could see the dim glow of the doorway. I ran back, terrified as to what might have happened. I’d left her in there, alone, with a vampire. He’d seemed entirely subdued, but how quickly might he recover? I silently cursed Dmitry for not letting me finish him. I was at the door in seconds. I need not have worried.
Nadya was in no danger. She stood facing the wall, with a shard of pinewood held limply in her hand. Her palms were bloody from where its splinters had dug into them. Where Ilya had been sitting there was now a desiccated corpse, still dressed in Ilya’s clothes. In places the bone showed clearly, in others his darkened skin clung to it. He was young as a vampire – his true death had occurred less than two years before. Even now his body could only decay as far as nature would have allowed it in the time. Nadya turned her head to look at me. I reached out to take her hand and to lead her to safety. For a moment she resisted, but then came with me.
‘I know,’ I said. ‘It wasn’t him. It wasn’t Ilya any more.’
But she understood the situation perfectly. ‘It was,’ she murmured.