“I know. You looked like you weren’t going to stop and talk to me today,” Theopolis says.
“I wasn’t. But I did,” she says.
“It’s nice that you did. I’m glad you did,” he says.
“I don’t feel like avoiding you - you know, this topic - as much as I did earlier, anyway,” Jessica tells him, “It’s good we talked.” Theopolis takes his chin off her head and picks up his satchel full of books - none of which he has looked at or even opened for three days, now, and urges her to walk with him.
“Come get something to eat with me,” he says, “I feel like, if you leave me now, we won’t ever talk, or go there - to the underworld - again.”
“That’s why I’m not going. We can’t go again,” Jessica whispers, “I’m afraid she’ll die.”
“She’s a ghost,” Theopolis whispers back, “she’s already dead.”
“She seems so real. I’m feeling very confused now - I don’t want you to talk me into changing my mind about this. It’s wrong to go again.”
“But we didn’t -” Theopolis begins.
“Dine with the one we love?” Jessica interrupts.
“Bite? -” Theopolis says in a tone that sounds more like he’s asking.
“I told you to bite Penelope,” Jessica says, adjusting her satchel and becoming very frustrated at the strap that won’t sit where she wants it to on her shoulder.
“I couldn’t. She was so -”
“Nice?” Jessica blurts out, “Ha! You don’t know what she’s like when you’re not there.”
“Yeah. Let me talk you into going to the underworld one more time.”
“I’m going home. See if there’s a letter with my name one it. Reminds me of home, you know. We’ll talk again. I’m actually happy to see you now. I’m exhausted, from that sickness.”
“Me too,” Theopolis commiserates.
“Go get some sleep and take your vitamins. I’ll eat alone, no worries, no slights, don’t worry…”
“Bye Theopolis!” Jessica calls out and walks away. Theopolis turns and sees Penelope walking behind him.
“Penelope! Wait up!” he yells and runs to catch up and walk with her.
Chapter Seven
A few days pass. Darling Jessica, studying at her desk for an Art History exam - the Old Masters - is flipping through plate after plate of ancient paintings, memorizing their names and the painters - Michelangelo, Titan, and Da Vinci - when a letter arrives, slipped in, under her door.
“A letter!” Jessica exclaims. She jumps up, knocking Art History plates onto the floor but hurries over to pick up the letter, anyway.
She tears it open and reads: “Dearest Jess, hmm hmm-hm…” She hears her Father’s voice as she reads the letter and is reminded of his face, as though he were almost there, in the room, saying the words of the letter outloud:
“And although I never thought I would say this,” his voice tells her, “perhaps a non-vampire is most suitable for you as a close friend at this time - rather than vampire.”
“What?!” Jessica slaps the letter against her thigh, “but what happened to always wanting me to ‘lead the life’, ‘Isn’t school just a bother?’ ‘Be more like a ‘vampire!’ ‘Make us proud’ and so on?! O bats and riders to the sky! Is he never happy?!” She picks up her phone and calls Theopolis.
She listens through his voicemail and starts ranting right after the beep, “Hi! I just received a letter from my Father. I am so confused by this - he wants me to stop seeing an ancient, as a friend. Thinks an undead would be a ‘better’ friend for me right now, O and of the opposite sex - Friend Boy Undead! Ugh! I’m beginning to wonder if he wants me to be a vampire, now, at all! He doesn’t know where we’ve been, yet - I wrote, but he hasn’t - O you’ve got to call me back. I really think we’ve got to jump from the bridge a second time, but to bite this time. This time we’ve got to go all the way with this - we’re vampires! Like we yelled it. You made me yell it, Theopolis - don’t back out on me, now. Call my cell.”
Had Jessica’s dear, old dad never mentioned his newfound theory that Jessica be removed from her new kindred as if her awakening into a fondness for her ‘vampire side’ was the wrong thing to do after having been prodded toward it her whole life, well, she’d have never even thought of going - back into the underworld. Alas, this illogical, ill-timed advisement - although heartfelt - to Jessica, living and studying at the center for logic and learning, reeks of havoc with a hint of fear that his darling daughter just might get herself into some kind of trouble - vampire trouble. So, for the first time in her life, Jessica seems more alive - for an ancient - than her Father does, to her. And so, to her, this moment is one that arrives with a sense of urgency - a wildness. An urgency to stay ‘above’ his fear, his, well, ‘old buggerishness‘; to stay, by belfry’s and bat sense, above the absolute illogic of the dead! Jessica tosses aside all Art History painting study plates and throws open her closet to change her clothes. She looks through clothes to find ‘a good vampire black’ while the illogic of her Father’s argument continues to irritate her. She feels, for the first time, not more studious than her Father, not more bookish or bookworm, but more vampire-ish, more smart! If only he knew how brave she’d been, how ar she’d really gone - into the Underworld - he would not be asking her to back down now, away from her vampire friend, away from her vampire ‘side’.
And whenever one inkling of a second thought arises like, ‘Is it wrong?’ Jessica denies it, shrugs it off. Jessica can not be bothered with the fear of what she’d do; it is the fear of what she won’t do, now, that drives her.
By midnight, Jessica’s fervor has everyone, each player involved in her leap to freedom, arranged and ready to go. She is dressed, this time, not only in her attire of the ancients, but her wildness as well. Standing at the very edge of Stygian Downs Bridge, in the darkness and murky mist that has lurked in this same spot for centuries, Theopolis take out of his coat pocket a very old and decorative flask.
“Would you like to do something you’ve never done before?” Theopolis asks an unsuspecting, and hopeful Penelope.
“And will probably never have the opportunity to do again?” Jessica adds with a devilish look in her eye. She smiles at Theopolis who is almost taken aback for a moment, not just by what she might mean by these words as he knows her dislike for Penelope, but by the look in her eye - the look about her tonight - while she says them. There is something very different about Jessica’s intent to jump into the underworld tonight. Previously led there by his insistance, she is clearly up to more than just responding to a daring whim, tonight. She looks very authentic, too, not her usual ‘half’-hearted self about sangue-seeking, no; this night she is dressed in bat-tire, winged vamp-fashion - the kind she’d seen at her Father’s parties. Her hair is done up and she is wearing black eyeliner and jewelry of the ancients that Theopolis knew she had but had never seen before tonight. Her fangs nearly show at every smile, at every ‘suggestion’ he makes toward poor Penelope’s fate. Honestly, it’s really kind of freaking him out! The pressure toward a vile ‘end’, a drain of unpopular Miss Penelope and he secretly wishes for a moment alone. But, at the tail end of that devilish glance Jessica has sent him, Theopolis glimpses the reason he feels he might have taken this ‘bringing out the vampire in Jessica thing’ already a bit too far; and, for a second and a half, he wishes he could bundle Jessica up and take her back home to her regular nights of decaf lattes and study breaks where comfy, cotton pull-overs and pillow fights bring out that devilish smile without the danger, the darkness, or the fangs involved. It’s not just those 2 sharp incisors, that bring about this sudden urge to bundle and hurry her back to a more innocent time, it’s the two f’s - fangs and forever - plus the one N, never. Never-getting-back he has suddenly seen in her eyes and he is once again reminded: she has bitten, he has not. He looks at Penelope and just stares, thinking all these thoughts at once, he gulps - a bit frightened and not at all daunting. Penelope’s chest rises
and falls with a deep inhale breath and hearty outdoors exhale in the misty, dark night air. Assuming this long stare is about her she kind of shrugs like ‘what’s the worry?’ O, dear Penelope, you have no idea; dear lost, innocent Penelope, like a young, sweet fawn among wolves.
Theopolis notices Penelope’s listless gaze glaze over into wide-eyed enchantment and he realizes he has just - accidentally - accomplished entrancing a mortal and he allows himself a moment of pride in the ease of administering this ancient power.
Jessica interrupts, “Theopolis! Let’s go. Let’s do this.” She does not want everyone diabolically wild and mischievously rebellious for the sake of sinister power, no, just her! This is clearly between her, her Father, and her rite of ancient powers - not really anyone else’s. She is at the edge of the Stygian Downs Bridge, tonight, purely out of a fight for her independence and, of course, the sake of sinister power.
Irritated for a moment, Theopolis glares then he focuses his attention, willingly, toward Penelope in her delicate state of awareness and asks her, “Do you trust me?” which says a bit quietly as to shut out Jessica and ‘this thing she’s going through’ as much as possible.
[Hint: NEVER say yes to a question like this. Really, only vampires ask this kind of thing.
“Yes,” Penelope manages to say clearly although thoroughly enchanted.
Theopolis opens the centuries old, silver potion flask covered in some sort of hammered fleur-de-lis design and tells her, “One sip.”
Jessica laughs, “Don’t you mean slurp?” He glares again - not a time for bad vampire humor. Penelope drinks the ancient potion without which there is no mortal transport unless said mortal is accompanied by a very knowledgeable vampire - as in the case of fair Domina the night the winds let loose the horse from her riding carriage.
“You won’t remember this,” Theopolis tells Penelope - already with a slight bit of remorse the kind most vampires learn to live with all their lives (one of the reasons many of them wind up living in castles all alone).
“It was only one sip,” Penelope argues.
“I know,” he turns and his leathery wings show behind him, at first as if they are part of his black clothing and then it becomes obvious they are larger than his clothing as he swiftly swirls them around Penelope - for mortal transport - who swoons and almost faints into the bat-like cacoon, “are you ready for this? Close your eyes,” he tells her. Theopolis then looks at his vampire counterpart and both show their fangs without meaning to.
“Dirigez votre vivoce…” Theopolis says, but the two jump and vanish before the last words of the ancient chant can be heard. Jessica looks toward her frightened date swirling her wings around him before he can run or fight. His expression goes limp and blank and Jessica whispers - a little closer to his neck than to his ears, “Close your eyes! Dirigez votre vivoce…” Into the mist they leap upon the faith of ancients they will arrive in the Underworld Castle as complete as whence they left the mortal run, above ground world.
“Belfry’s kittens! I can’t believe it!” Jessica looks around her. She is the only one who has arrived so far.
“I hope I did that right,” she mutters, now too feeling a slight bit of that legendary vampire’s remorse. A quick thought of her new friend stuck for eternity - betwixt and between - almost brings a tear to her eye; and, she looks around the castle room for something to do.
“Theopolis is fighting trolls, no doubt,” she thinks; and, Theopolis is fighting a band of trolls.
“Stay covered! Behind the tree!” he directs as he fills his fists full of throwin’ ammo, “Ahh!” he ducks too late, but gets a hit at his target, too.
“You wiley old wickedly coward! Take that! O don’t you… there!” he lands a stone that smites. “Can I help?“ asks Jessica’s date, now crouching on the ground, foraging for rocks, stones, and branches quickly as he can to join the fight.
“Sure, but watch that!” Theopolis says pointing out a bristly - and rather large for a troll - sort due North.
“Ahh! Ow,” Jessica’s date sees him too late.
“One aiming for your head. Sorry, couldn’t get out all those words in time, I guess. You okay?”
Rubbing the sore spot where the stone hit he comments, “I will be when I get back at that troll.”
“Exactly!” Theopolis concurs, “Good aim. It’s cooch.”
“What?” Jessica’s date asks.
“That what I call the ol’ dusty bumpers, and our defense - Smash the cooch.”
“Ah-ha!” he says and hit’s a troll which yowls a yell that makes all of the rest of ‘em grumble out loud.
“You got ‘im!” They smile at each other. Theopolis’ date, the forgotten Penelope, crouches behind the tree looking frightened and miserable. After a few more rounds the trolls retreat, growling and grumbling as they go.
“O, here, we should be going, now, I guess,” Theopolis says becoming aware now that his ‘game’ has ended that Jessica is not with them and is probably growing a little more than just impatient with his absence. He helps Penelope up to standing.
“How do we get out of here,” Penelope asks.
“This way,” he says, “but you gotta run. Here, fill up your pockets just in case we run too close to one of them.”
Jessica stands at a castle window looking out into the city which is always dark around the walls of the Underworld Castle and its few, though brightly twinkling lights to a world where time has no meaning and eternity stands still. Stuck, really. A waiter approaches and fills her glass with cool water and a nice slice of lime.
“Thanks,” she says.
“It’s nothing,” he mentions.
Meanwhile Theopolis, Penelope, and Jessica’s date run for cover - from tree to tree - among the sparse vegetation of the In Between. Just as Theopolis ventures out, again, he gets hit; big time. Smack-o’ed.
“Agghh! Blast vicious! Who did that?!” He looks up and sees the same bald, grayish-brown clad, miserable looking little troll who’d hit him hardest last, sneering, jeering, and nearly slobbering out a hoarse, low chortle. You guessed it, dear readers, it’s that bundle of negativity, the old Tyrannomous, himself! You practically hear the Witch screeching out his name just by looking at him. Theopolis looks into those piercing eyes just at the moment of his hideous and unwisely chosen chortle causing him to become enraged from the pain and the audacity of his opponent’s choice to jeer and taunt. He is a vampire, afterall, ominous and exquisite compared to the likes of this heap from the dirt lurking breeds of the ancient and eternal world. He reaches for the biggest stone he can find, and it just so happens that - Tyrannomous’ fate or not - a stone larger than Theopolis has ever thrown in the In Between is close at hand. He throws it, nonetheless. Theopolis’ hideous opponent - and ancient of the underworld - goes down. If it hadn’t been thrown by Theopolis, would it have been thrown by Tyrannoumous, anyway? We’ll never know, for with a thud that seems to echo through the canyon gulch of the In Between, Tyrannomous hit’s the ground.
A gush of blood form his head, and an “Ooo-ooof” from his lips… Lights out.
Now, just at this moment, near the Witch’s hut - as she stomps, mid-step - the Witch lifts up her shoulders, straight up from her normal stoopish sort of stomping and opens her eye - wide - as if a gush of air with the ‘thud’ noise in it has just hit her, too, in the back of the chest. Her mouth drops open. She sniffs the air.
Her fists clench and she raises her chin. To the wind she yells, “TY-RAN-NOMOUS!!!”
Also at that very same moment, inside the Underworld Castle, Jessica sits at a table for two next to an empty table for two and chats with the waiter who is now sitting beside her rather than standing, politely asking her questions about herself which she does not much feel like answering, but does so anyway as to be polite in return. She looks up at the sound of silver hitting a glass as Theopolis and his date nearly tumble into their seats, causing a ruckus.
“Well, there you are,” Jessica says, “whe
re have you been?!” She looks at the waiter and tells him he can go, now, as she watches her new ‘friend’ take his seat. He is much less handsome than the waiter and so far quite a bit of an annoyance. She lets out a sigh as he sits down.
“Kiboshing!” Theopolis tells her, “with trolls.”
“O vicious. Tonight?” Jessica asks.
“Couldn’t be avoided,” he says.
And, Jessica’s table mate adds in their defense, “We did not have a choice.”
“It was very exciting!” Theopolis adds, knowing this might make her sigh even louder. It does.
“Theopolis got hit… very hard.”
“And an old troll went down,” the two new additions to the underworld adventure add with cheeks flushed from the outdoor activities and Jessica thinks to ask Theopolis next time they aren’t in mortal company if he even likes being a vampire - which Jessica herself has been asked and never thought she’d understand until, now, when the rosy cheeks of active mortals sit staring her in the face.
“I got him, too!” Theopolis smiles, “I mean really got him.”
“You’re… bleeding,” Jessica says to the face of the exuberant boy across the table from her. She motions to the side of his head. He presses the white, cloth napkin from his place setting to his temple and then looks at the cloth. He laughs nervously, as blood makes nearly every person it comes off of rather nervous, and although there’s really no need to apologize he instinctively does.
“O sorry,” he says rather lightly as if he might feel a bit queasy while saying it. Jessica becomes uncomfortable, too - her date bleeding at the table, right here, in the Underworld Castle. Silently imagining her vampire status revoked for for the sake of Theopolis’ new ‘sport’, she throws a little fit in front of all of them.
“You’ve nearly ruined this night for us, Theopolis!” She throws her napkin into the plate.
“Let’s just go home,” she pouts.
Legend of Stygian Downs (Vampire DeAngeliuson Book 2) Page 9