The Last Etruscan

by Lyn Brittan

  “Luca, please! Let him go!” He felt Fanchon Marie pull his arm away, but it only made his rage expand to ginormous proportions. “You’re defending him?! After all you have been though today, you’re defending him. Typical. And don’t think you’re getting off the hook either. You had no business going out there.”

  “I had to prepare things for OUR wedding! Or have you forgotten already? This is the only one I’m getting, and I deserve a good one.” Fanchon Marie’s voice lowered to above a whisper. “I wouldn’t allow Breznik or any of the Morlenas to ruin my day--our day. I won’t give him that much power over me. A for him,” she said pointing to Sean. “Well, he fought off two of them and chasing that crazy bitch away. Plus, he’s already broken down because of Callie.”

  Luca’s shell cracked the tiniest bit. So that’s what this was about. Why he wouldn’t fight back. His...whatever she was to him...was hurt.

  “What if it’d been me, Luca?”

  “It almost was, Cara.” Though loosened, the non-punching hand still remained locked around Sean’s throat.

  “Perhaps,” a grinning Gregorio added, “one might extend a small amount of Christian charity to him, given his valiant efforts. And it bears repeating that it won’t hurt to have another man on the ground. We will need all the extra protection we can get during the wedding.”

  Gregorio made a good argument. A very good one, Luca acknowledged, as his rage subsided. Breznik would have to be insane to try something: a) on Luca’s land while b) it’s packed with Roma and Vodou masters and c) backed up by an angry werewolf. However, given what they’d said about today’s attack, Luca had little confidence in the man’s sanity.

  “Fine. Pup, you live to fight another day. Go see to Callie. Once she’s settled, get back in my office for details on where I want you stationed during the wedding. You’ll be needed to literally, sniff out any danger. But remember, Sean, this is your second strike.”

  ****

  That night, the heavens poured out their misery. An unnamed, but apparently angry, god pranced around the sky, dumping wheelbarrows of sorrow raced rain over the city. Didn’t seem to be much hope of it letting up anytime soon either. Well, hell. Why not? Nothing else had turned out right for her. Callie remained unconscious, Luca seethed in anger, and Sean moped around, grunting like a beast from a child’s fairytale.

  Fanchon Marie tossed another of Madame Sophie’s mini-brownies into her mouth and popped on the TV. The forecast? Rain, followed by more rain, with a healthy helping of torrential downpour on the side. A ridiculously chippy, bobble-headed announcer reported early flooding in the lowest areas of the city and anticipated flooding elsewhere. Yellow flashing warnings blinked on and off in the corner of the screen. She turned the TV off. She wasn’t worried. The city had already seen the worst of Mother Nature a few years back. This crap here was annoying, but not much more than that.

  Almost as annoying as being stuck in the house the day before a rush job wedding to an angry soon-to-be husband glowering around below. With nothing else to do and since she’d been forbidden to leave, Fanchon Marie stuffed extra brownies into her pajama pockets and went on a mission to snoop around.

  The old monastery he lived in had only three floors and a basement, but each hall went on for miles. She’d never actually come to the end of one and wondered if it was even possible. Between where she stood and infinity were countless doors, most of them locked by magic or mechanics.

  She turned to make her way back to the bedroom, only the light she’d left on seemed much farther away that it should have been. Above her a skylight that she could almost swear hadn’t been there before, provided the only source of light: the moon and an occasional flicker of lightning. Times like these, she really hated magic.

  With each step, new doors materialized. Earlier fearlessness long gone, she had no intention of opening any of them. She kept her eyes on the far light of the bedroom. As long as stayed focused on--

  “Ohhhh!” So much for focus.

  The latest door to appear looked nothing like the rest. Not only did it have an inviting crack, but its entire construction consisted of glass and gold. She stuck her nose so close to the window, that she could see her breath on the pane. What she saw shocked her.

  Sky.

  A clear, open sky, complete with clouds and a couple of suns. Fanchon Marie stumbled back, nearly crashed into the opposite side of the hall. She’d seen this before. The door, the image peering at her, everything was a recreation her childhood vision of the afterlife. Something she’d dreamed up when her grandmother passed away. The chance to see her warm, bubbly face again proved too powerful to ignore. She went inside.

  Dazzling lights greeted her, but it wasn’t the heaven she saw though the glass panes. Lilacs, emeralds, chartreuses, ambers, and topazes nearly blinded her. Thousands of bright colors cast the room in rainbows, which then ricocheted off of a wall of hanging silver plates and goblets.

  “Hello.”

  Fanchon Marie jumped a million feet into the air. When her heartbeat returned to human levels, she addressed the voice. “Gregorio?”

  “I didn’t expect to see you here. At least not yet.”

  “What do you mean?” She had to shield her eyes to see him, but he emerged from another row of shocking colors. “What is all this?”

  “My room.” He looked all the world like a proud papa of a newborn. “And this is my collection,” he said, pointing upwards.

  As her eyes adjusted to light, she saw that upon further inspection, the magical colors were actually hundreds of colorful bottles suspended from the ceiling by various levers and pulleys. “What are they?”

  “Sacred waters from around the world. Wherever I go, I pick up a vial. Play with it, mix it, try to make it stronger. What is holy in one place may not be holy in another, but with the right combination, I could create the perfect protection potion.” She watched him pull something on a chain out of the top of his shirt. “So far this one is the strongest. I think. I keep a vial around my neck, just in case.”

  “Care to share the love?”

  Gregorio leaned against a large oak table where a bed should have been. “I figure I must have already done so. How do you think you got in here?”

  “I have no idea. The hall kept—”

  “Growing?” He continued after her nod. “This house has a surplus of two things: men and protective magic. How better to house them all, than in an expanding space? More importantly, how better to protect them all than with ensorcelled doors? They only appear when a mutual level of trust has been achieved, and I have a higher threshold than most.” Gregorio took her right hand and brought it to his lips. “Congratulations. You passed.”

  Fanchon Marie grabbed her bottom lip between her teeth. “Is there a prize for having completed such impossible a task as earning your trust? Something like, oh I don’t know, a bottle of protection?”

  “I wish. As a matter of fact I tried, but Luca doesn’t want anything unproven around you.”

  “Overbearing ape. Well, let’s forget about him a moment. Tell me about yourself.” Though she’d met him years ago, she knew next to nothing about Luca’s closest man.

  “You first. Tell me about your magic. I’ve always been fascinated by it. Seems wild. Uncontrollable.”

  “Only to outsiders.”

  “Hmm. Our power tends to travel though the men. We have it stronger. It’s in the women for you, isn’t it?

  Fanchon Marie nodded and Gregorio leaned back, looking pleased. “Kids ought to be interesting. Roma mothers would give their lives for the children, but their boys. My God, do the mothers love their sons! Wonder how old Auntie will handle a granddaughter who can set her hair on fire?”

  “Let me guess. You were spoiled by the best of them.”

  He winked, but didn’t bite.

  “Come on, it’s your turn. Tell me about yourself.”

  “Not much to me. Not very much say, really.” Not true, she found. They talked for nearly ni
nety minutes about everything. He shared his childhood with Luca and his brothers in Italy. He’d never been in love, but had a son when he was sixteen. The child died before he had a chance to meet him. It explained his zest for life and loyalty to those around him. “You never know when someone will be taken from you, so take love when you can. Have at least three people that you can tell everything to, without worry and be willing to defend them to the death. Have a family, but also have a family. You never know when you might need someone at your back.”

  “Ah I see. And is there a special woman in your life?”

  Gregorio rubbed his stubble-free chin before he delivered an answer. “No, but there are several delightful non-special ones.” They shared a laugh at that.

  “Is that the secret to your success then?”

  “So far. I live life as it comes. That’s what I’ve learned.” He gave her a wink before asking, “And what have you learned?”

  She thought about it a good long while. He didn’t rush her, and she considered all she’d accomplished in the twenty-seven years she’d been alive. She was a college graduate, even had an MBA and ran her own business. On paper, she was perfect.

  Then there was Luca. The marriage, by its very nature of arrangement, was an affront to all she’d believed in and real slap in the face to the women’s lib movement.

  And for the first time, she thought so what?

  What was worth more to her? Fitting some sort of standard or being happy? Was she able to let go a little of herself to have him? Yeah. Maybe Gregorio was right. Maybe the trick really is as simply as taking life at it comes. That meant taking Luca.

  She caught Gregorio staring at her and turned away. “Sorry. I got a little lost in my thoughts there.”

  “I think maybe that’s a good thing.”

  Fanchon Marie smiled and dug into her pockets for the small bit glass vial she’s been carrying for days. She rolled it in the palm of her hand, feeling the weight of it one last time. “I’ve been wondering who this is for. I thought Luca, but it’s you.” Fanchon Marie picked up an empty jar and held it up to Gregorio for his approval. At his nod, she uncorked her vial and poured half of its contents into the little clay jar.

  He leaned over her shoulder as she worked. “Where is it from?”

  “I don’t know the water’s point of origin. That is, the body of water it was once a part of,” she said in all honesty.

  Gregorio considered this and nodded once more. “All right then. Who is it from?”

  “A friend.” She shook her head. “I don’t know her name or even if she’s still alive.”

  “But do you trust her?”

  “With my life.”

  Gregorio’s iron steady hands took the jar and without any further examination of her or it, poured its contents into the small vial that hung around his neck. “There. Now, we--”

  He jerked still. “Hold on a sec. It’s Stephan.”

  Fanchon Marie’s eyebrows shot up. “Calling from some magical phone line?”

  “Uh, yes. We call them cell phones,” he said with a grin. He pulled the vibrating mobile from his pocket and waved it in the air. “He moved off campus to live with a lady friend.” He winked suggestively and puckered his lips to kiss the air before taking the call. “Hello? What? Get out of the immediate area. We’ll be there shortly.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “No time. Put on some real clothes and meet me downstairs. I’ll get Sean and Luca. Hurry!”

  ****

  It wasn’t passing.

  Luca hopped off the treadmill and toweled off. Even through his headphones, the howling winds and constant pinging of rain on the windows and shingles interrupted his pace. So much for a relaxing jog.

  Physical exertion had a glorious habit of clearing his mind. Usually. But tonight, his weakened body wanted to do nothing but rest. He’d pushed himself too hard and felt the same as he had moments before he passed out the first time. Being a master of magic was one thing. Using magic so often that your spiritual essence was fatigued enough to present physical manifestations is something of a whole different order.

  He walked up the stairs as Gregorio rushed down to meet him. “Stephan called. There’s a disturbance in the Cemetery Number Three.” He didn’t waste time changing. The four hopped in the car and ran every stop sign on their way. Behind them followed another group of Luca’s men in a separate car. One way or another, it had to end today.

  ****

  St. Louis Cemetery No. Three was the youngest of the major cemeteries, but “young” doesn’t mean much in this end of New Orleans. It opened in 1854 and held claim as the spiritual entryway to Bayou St. John. The crypts here were among the largest, most elaborate in the two cities. Fanchon Marie, Luca, Gregorio, and Sean had no trouble getting in due to Luca’s alchemist touch. He laid his fingers upon the old latch causing it to disengage seconds later.

  “Let’s go,” Luca said from the front of the pack.

  In the moonlight, the crypts and their statues cast menacing shadows over the group. She tried not to shiver, determined not to be the weak one of the bunch. Instead she concentrated on Luca. He’d put his cell phone to his ear and called Stephan, with final directions. If everything went well, the Roma men outside the cemetery would keep watch to make sure nothing got in or snuck out. The rain was bone-chilling and miserable, making a bad situation worse. With every clap of thunder, Fanchon Marie jumped a little closer to Luca. As they went farther inside though, she’d stop every so often to investigate a funerary sculpture. She’d follow, get side tracked, stop, hear thunder, catch up, and repeat the same routine again.

  Luca pulled her from her inspection of a crypt guarded by two columns almost as tall as the tree next to it. “Stay close. The only reason you are here is to talk to them. I need you to stay out of trouble.”

  “Then you might want to get her away from them.” Sean thrust his head into their huddle. He pointed to the two statues next to the columns in front of the crypt. Small, innocent looking lambs lay curled at the base. Their heads were tucked in, but each had a small collar and chain around their necks. “I thought I saw--well, just stay back.”

  The three men exchanged looks but said nothing more about it as they went farther into the cemetery. Fanchon Marie said she sensed magic, but not of any sort she’d felt before. “This is different.”

  “Agreed, magic, but no life.” Gregorio said.

  “Or unlife,” she said. “Not spirits—”

  “But something else,” Luca finished.

  Sean chimed in as well. “I don’t smell anything, but I hear movement. None of this should be possible. What the hell exists that Roma can’t feel, a Vodou girl can’t sense, and a werewolf can’t smell?”

  Gregorio shouted, “Get down!”

  “Damn that,” Luca said. “Look up!” There, next to Fanchon Marie, stood a lamb on the top of a crypt.

  “So?”

  “Look at it, Sean!” They all did and gasped in unison. The stone lamb had a collar and chain. Only its face could be viewed in all its glory. In a demonic twist, powerful daggers jutted out from the pulled back maw of the tiny creature. “Mio dio.”

  “Did you hear that? There’s something moving to our right.”

  Her eyes turned to Sean and then to the direction he’d indicated. There was nothing worth noting, at least not that should see. Yet she felt…something.

  “Sean, keep staring in the direction of the noise,” Luca said. “Gregorio, put your back to his and only face the opposite direction. Fanchon Marie, get in the center. Make a triangle. I will form the apex.”

  “Good God, cousin. You don’t think—”

  “I know.”

  She saw Sean jab Luca in the ribs. “Care to enlighten the rest of us?”

  He did, with a little help from his cousin. They filled her and Sean in on one of the oldest charms known to the Roma. The Caedes statua. Pure evil infused in stone. Until now, he’d shared, he’d had no proof such a
spell could be done. They existed only in the stories Roma parents told to keep their children in line. The creatures, once created could not be controlled under any circumstances. They live for a short time, but in those brief moments have been known to take out whole villages.

  “So we’re dying the night before our wedding. Nice.”

  “I have no intention of letting that happen, Cara. These things have one flaw: they cannot attack while you look at them. It prevents the caster from dying. Though, some were unlucky. The point is that someone put these creatures here to find us and kill us, but I doubt they stayed behind to watch it happen. They’re too dangerous, these things, once animated, can travel faster than any of us.”

  “Yeah, cool story, bro. Skip to the part about how to kill these things.”

  “We don’t, Sean.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “There is nothing we can do to stop them. Only time. They cease to exist in the light of a new day. They can’t get past any living creature....”

  “Nice.”

  “Unless the kill it.”

  “Well, hell,” Sean added. “Why is it that every time I see you, I need to have medical services on standby?”

  Fanchon Marie’s snaked her hands around his waist. “No problem. We’ll take turns. Watching two little lambs should hardly be a problem.”

  “I hear more than two little lambs in that far corner,” the wolf said.

  “And I’m looking at a stone angel that looks like it wants to kill me.”

  “What?”

  Sean must have turned. Fanchon Marie heard Luca screaming for him to stop. Another yell, this one from Sean himself, indicated the advice may have come a bit too late.

  “Aww, come on, man.”

  “I told you not to move.”

  “From here on out, I’m listening to every golden word that falls from your mouth,” Sean said.

  “That bad?” Fanchon Marie asked.

  “You could say that. You don’t wanna know what I’m seeing right now.”

  Fanchon Marie rubbed the back of her hand against Luca’s shoulder, willing him to do…well…something. The situation was deteriorating. When the Rom Baro finally spoke, his sage advice was less than appreciated.