The Lazarus Curse

by Darren Craske

  He ground his teeth, trying to show the face of composure, as was expected of the head of his circus. Yin and Yang, Ruby and Prometheus were huddled together, as if none of them trusted themselves to be able to stand on their own.

  A simple smoothed rock took the place of a headstone, with Butter’s tusk-handled knife laid upon it. The Inuit’s body had been wrapped in material and laid into the grave, and in turn, each of the performers stepped forwards to say goodbye. As a dark shadow draped across his face, Quaint knew that Prometheus’s turn had arrived.

  Wiping a stray tear from his beard, the gargantuan Irishman spoke softly.

  ‘I’ll never forget the first day I met Butter,’ he began. ‘The boss showed him around, and Butter just had a face full of smiles. From that day on, I don’t think he ever stopped. He was something special, all right… and the most dependable bloke it’s ever been my fortune to meet. And he was my friend. He was everybody’s friend.’

  The troupe erupted in fresh sniffles and tears. Ruby could take the pain no more, her legs giving way beneath her. Yin and Yang supported her elbows, themselves weeping uncontrollably. Prometheus took a step back, and it was then the moment that Quaint had been dreading.

  ‘My friends, all too soon we have to say goodbye to another of our family,’ he began, his jaws clamped together in case any stray emotions slipped through. ‘There won’t be a day that dawns that I won’t think about Butter. Even on the coldest of nights, the darkest of days… I shall glance up to the sky and look for the brightest spot… and that’s where Butter will be… always with a big smile on his face. Rest well, my Inuit friend, you’ve certainly earned it.’

  The memorial service was over quickly, much to Quaint’s relief, and as his troupe readied themselves for the journey down to Shi-Huang Bay, where an ever longer journey awaited them back to England, he sat himself down in the middle of Xia X’ian’s meeting place and contemplated his life; where it was leading him, and more importantly, what he would find once he got there. He looked up as Han-Lo approached his workshop. A young man walked out to greet him, and Quaint was intrigued enough to strain his ears to listen.

  Han-Lo stopped just feet from his workshop, seeing the face of the young man stood at the door. The blacksmith looked down at the golden mask held loosely within his hands.

  ‘Father?’ said the young man. ‘Where have you been?’

  Han-Lo sighed, feeling the weight drop off his shoulders. ‘It is interesting that you should ask me that, Lao. I have been for a long walk. I went up a mountain as a man torn between his obligations to his family, and his obligations to an ideal.’

  Lao looked down at the golden mask. ‘Is… it… that yours?’

  ‘For a time… but I do not think I need it any more, my son,’ said Han-Lo, throwing the mask onto the ground. ‘Makoi has served his purpose, and I think it is time that I concentrated on putting my family before others. That is… if you will have me.’

  Quaint watched the young man throw himself into Han-Lo’s arms. For everyone else, it seemed that a natural ending had been found, a resolution of sorts. But what was his ending to be? That was still so uncertain. Cho-zen Li had given him the name of the man responsible for his parents’ deaths, and he had given him his location. But that was not all. The Chinese warlord had left him with a thirst that would never be quenched as long as Remus was alive. If it was to be his task to end that life, then so be it. Everyone had to die sometime. Cho-zen Li had proved that. And Butter too.

  A shadow fell over him, startling the conjuror from his thoughts. Looking up at Han-Lo, Quaint saw a grim expression on the blacksmith’s face.

  ‘I meant to ask you, Cornelius… what happened to your cast?’

  Quaint glanced down at his arm. He had quite forgotten about it. ‘Oh, I got rid of that on the way here last night. It turns out that Cho-zen Li was right about his magic lotus juice. My arm feels as good as new already, as if it hadn’t even been broken in the first place. And what about you? You managed to patch things up with your son?’

  Han-Lo smiled. ‘Yes, although I think he would have preferred it if I had still remained as Makoi, then he would have something to boast to his friends about. As it is, all he has is a nice gold trinket to put on the wall.’

  ‘So Makoi is dead for ever?’

  ‘For now… and let us pray that he is never needed again,’ said Han-Lo. ‘But enough about him, Cornelius, I wanted to catch you before you left. It seems that we have a very unexpected visitor in the village… and he is asking for you personally.’

  ‘Who is it?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘The All-Knowing One,’ said Han-Lo. ‘And it seems that he has made the journey here especially for your benefit. He is waiting for you in the assembly building at the far end of the village. Apparently, your conversation has been foretold.’

  ‘That’s worrying,’ said Quaint. ‘That means that one of us knows what this conversation is about. Well… I’d better not keep him waiting then, had I?’

  The All-Knowing One looked up as Cornelius Quaint pulled open the bamboo door and stepped inside the building. The old man was seated amongst a pile of cushions on the floor in front of a crackling fire.

  ‘Expecting me?’ Quaint asked, spying two cups of steaming tea on the floor.

  ‘Have you forgotten that I know everything?’ asked the All-Knowing One.

  ‘Actually, that’s what I’m banking on,’ said Quaint. ‘Makoi tells me you wanted to see me. Is there something you need to tell me?’

  ‘Funny… ’ said the old man, ‘I was just going to say the same thing.’

  ‘Ah, I see,’ nodded Quaint. ‘All right… let me go first then. When you sent me to confront Cho-zen Li, did you know what he would reveal to me?’

  ‘A direct and forthright question deserves a direct and forthright answer, Cornelius Quaint,’ muttered the All-Knowing One. ‘The answer is, yes… I did know.’

  Quaint’s anger should have been inflamed, but for some reason he was as calm as a millpond. ‘I see… ’

  ‘Your life has certainly taken on a most intriguing direction since our last conversation, has it not? You have been given so many threads, so surely now you are intent on giving them a tug,’ said the All-Knowing One. ‘But I am sorry to say that I do not have all the answers that you seek.’

  ‘So why are you here?’ asked Quaint.

  ‘Because I have a question of my own,’ said the All-Knowing One. ‘You chose not to use your immortality as leverage against Cho-zen Li. Why?’

  ‘I didn’t see the point. What difference would it have made?’

  ‘But how could you have been so certain? You shared a common link, both possessing eternal life. In many ways two opposite sides of the same coin. Surely that would have been worth mentioning.’

  ‘Cho-zen Li and I were nothing alike,’ said Quaint. ‘I’ve got eternal life, whereas all he had was eternal death.’

  The All-Knowing One smiled. ‘My wisdom is obviously rubbing off on you.’

  ‘Cho-zen Li’s immortality was a curse to him,’ said Quaint. ‘He shackled himself to the earth because of a love that died decades ago. He tended his wife’s corpse like it was one of his precious plants, and although he claimed that he did it out of love, it was really out of necessity. His necessity. He needed so much to believe that he could cure her that he convinced himself that anything was worth it.’

  ‘It sounds as if he charmed you,’ said the All-Knowing One.

  ‘He intrigued me,’ replied Quaint. ‘But he was quite insane, of course… in a strangely normal sort of way.’

  ‘You felt pity for him?’

  ‘I couldn’t allow myself to pity him,’ said Quaint. ‘Yet it was hard not to, I admit. I came to China to destroy someone that I had pictured as a monster… but I have met monsters before, and Cho-zen Li wasn’t like them at all.’ Quaint glanced around the building, consciously avoiding the All-Knowing One’s stare. ‘He made me question my life, now that I know it will neve
r come to an end. It was as if I was seeing what I might become…a distorted reflection of a possible future. I asked myself were I in his position… had I his power… would I have done the same things? Committed the same crimes? Would I allow myself to be haunted by the ghost of a long-dead love, as he was?’

  ‘Very poetic,’ the All-Knowing One said. ‘Now do you see why you were his equal? You and Cho-zen Li were more alike than you admit. Fate bestowed wings upon you both, Cornelius, yet whereas Cho-zen Li’s weakness was forgetting how to fly, your weakness is not believing that you can.’

  ‘Now who’s being poetic,’ said Quaint.

  ‘Cho-zen Li’s revelation shook you to your core, didn’t it? His past friendship with your father was coincidence enough, but factor in your arrival at this particular time and place, and your previous history with those responsible for your father’s murder – and not to mention the inscription in that watch of yours – surely now you must be convinced about what I told you before… about your debt to Fate?’

  ‘I’ll not go as far as saying I’m convinced as such,’ said Quaint, ‘but there might be something going on here more than the coincidental… the trouble is, it’s all connected to the bloody Hades Consortium, and they’re masters of secrets and lies.’

  ‘Then to learn the truth you must confront them.’ The All-Knowing One linked his bony fingers and propped them under his jowls. ‘That is something else that you and Cho-zen Li have in common. You have both allowed the wounds of your past to bleed into your present, and until you repair those wounds, your future will always be unknown.’

  ‘I understand,’ said Quaint, rather pleased with himself for deciphering the old man’s riddle. ‘You’re saying that I need to find this Remus man, learn why he killed my parents, and figure out exactly what the Hades Consortium had to do with it.’

  ‘Unfortunately so… yes.’

  ‘Unfortunately?’ asked Quaint. ‘Why unfortunately?’

  ‘Unfortunately… because you are bound on this course, Cornelius, you have been for many years, but your entanglement with Fate has compounded things,’ said the All-Knowing One. ‘What began as a hunt for the truth has now become embroiled with your immortality, and both may yet hang in the balance. Sometimes it must feel as though Death hounds your footsteps.’

  Quaint could not speak, could not disagree. The wounds were still so raw and he had buried his most trusted friend less than an hour previously.

  ‘But your path is far from confirmed,’ continued the old man. ‘That explains why your star’s position is constantly shifting in the celestial heavens. There is something not yet learned, a long-buried truth that remains unspoken. There are many revelations to come, Cornelius, and your determination to unearth them may yet have dire consequences.’

  ‘My life is full of them!’ snapped Quaint, unwilling to believe what he was being told, or rather – unwilling to hear any more in case he had no choice but to believe it. ‘After everything that I’ve been through lately, after all that I’ve suffered… do you really think I care about what else could possibly hurt me?’

  The All-Knowing One’s eyes glazed over. ‘I was not referring to consequences for you… but for someone that you love dearly, for one who has been loyal all of your life. Very soon, she will give herself willingly to your enemy… and her life as forfeit.’

  ‘Destine?’ gasped Quaint. ‘You’re talking about Destine? But… why on earth would she do such a thing?’

  ‘Why else?’ the All-Knowing One said. ‘To save you.’

  Chapter XLII

  The Restless Thoughts

  It was a decidedly sombre circus troupe that arrived in Shi-Huang Bay later that day to greet the waiting Victorious. They were returning to England fewer in number and heavier in heart. Once the steamship had fired her engines, Prometheus joined Cornelius Quaint up on the top deck. The Irish strongman’s bearded face was marred with sadness, but company was not what the conjurer wanted. He was unconcerned (momentarily) with the present, his mind set firmly on the future; something so intangible, yet within which held everything of importance to him.

  ‘Butter loved being in the circus, you know,’ Prometheus said. ‘Being at your side in all your scrapes. Every bloody second of it. And think of it like this… he found his daughter at long last. That’s something that he never dreamed of.’

  ‘You’re wrong, Prometheus,’ Quaint said. ‘He dreamed about it all the time.’

  Prometheus made a move to leave the conjuror to it, but found himself rooted to the spot, determined to voice his thoughts and with any luck, lighten the heavy weight that bore down on his friend and employer’s shoulders. ‘I can see that you’re cutting yourself to pieces here, Cornelius, but it wasn’t your fault. As far as he was concerned, you made him a promise and you stuck to it, proving that his faith in you wasn’t misplaced.’

  ‘That same faith got him killed, remember?’ Quaint said, bitterly. ‘Back in England, Destine tried to warn me. She said that I was like the Pied Piper… that people put themselves in danger because of me. And once again, she was right.’

  ‘Hey, it wasn’t your fault that Butter got killed, remember that!’ snapped Prometheus. ‘And you weren’t to know that girl was his bloody daughter! It was a million to one odds, man! If anyone’s to blame, it’s me. I’m the one that killed her. If I hadn’t lashed out and he’d… well, we can’t undo what’s already been done, can we? It was all just a terrible coincidence… and eventually, Butter paid the price for it.’

  ‘It wasn’t coincidence that killed him,’ said Quaint. ‘It was punishment.’

  Prometheus frowned. ‘Ah, come on! What in the hell could Butter have been punished for? His conscience was bloody spotless, man!’

  ‘I wasn’t talking about him,’ said Quaint. ‘Again, Destine was right. Now that I’ve lost the thing most precious to me, I don’t know how I’m supposed to feel. Maybe I’m just not worthy of the gift.’

  Accepting defeat, Prometheus turned and walked away slowly. But as he reached the iron staircase that led down into the Victorious’s belly he paused, lingering on the top step. ‘Listen, mate… don’t be stood out here all alone. Come on down and play some cards with the rest of us. It’ll do you good, so it will. Take your mind off things.’

  ‘Thanks for the offer, but I need my mind to stay on things for a while yet. You go on and enjoy yourself, my friend. I just need a bit more time to clear my thoughts.’

  ‘All right, sure. How long do you reckon you’ll be?’

  Quaint sighed. ‘Oh, I should think at least until we get back to England.’

  ‘But that’s weeks away, man!’

  ‘I know,’ said Cornelius Quaint, ‘but I’ve been given a lot to think about.’

  THE END

  Cornelius Quaint’s fight against his fate concludes in:

  THE ROMULUS EQUATION

  About the Author

  Darren Craske hails from the south of England and has been telling stories in one form or another all his life. He began his craft writing and illustrating comic books before moving onto writing novels in 2003. His approach is unashamedly a simple one; to carve darn-good adventure-stories, with pits, traps, perils and troubles and a colourful palette of characters, and to keep readers on the edge of their seats whilst doing it.

  Copyright

  The Friday Project

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  This edition published by The Friday Project 2012

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  Copyright © Darren Craske

  Darren Craske asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work

  A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library

  EPub Edition © JANUARY 2012 ISBN: 9780007468690

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed
in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

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  The Cornelius Quaint Chronicles

  The Equivoque Principle

  The Eleventh Plague

  The Lazarus Curse

  The Romulus Equation (coming soon)

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