Necropolis

by Wendy Saunders

  ‘Open your eyes,’ Olivia whispered.

  He did. It was still dark, but he could see everything. It was not like seeing in the bright light of day nor the more muted soft wash of lamplight. Everything was bathed with an odd greenish cast, but he could see every brick in the wall of the side of his house, every scuttling spider, every flake of snow. He could see every single delicate feature of Olivia’s face and the wide smile of pride, that he’d finally achieved something she’d been trying to teach him for days.

  ‘This is amazing,’ he breathed quietly.

  ‘That’s what I thought when I was taught,’ she replied.

  ‘Who taught you? Your family?’ he asked curiously.

  ‘No,’ she grinned, ‘you did.’

  ‘I did?’ he blinked in confusion.

  ‘Yeah,’ she replied, ‘about a hundred and fifty years from now.’

  ‘I taught you how to use magic to see in the dark?’ he repeated slowly.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘But you taught me how to...’ he replied, clearly confused.

  ‘Quite the paradox isn’t it?’ she laughed. ‘Best not to dwell on it, you’ll give yourself a migraine.’

  ‘A what?’

  ‘Never mind,’ she laughed again. ‘Now, you ready to try witch smoke again?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ he answered cautiously. ‘You remember what happened last time?’

  ‘That’s because you were overthinking it and you confused yourself,’ she shook her head. ‘Traveling by witch smoke is half conscious thought, half pure instinct.’

  ‘I suppose,’ he muttered unconvinced.

  ‘You remember what to do?’ she asked.

  He nodded, assuming she could see the gesture despite the darkness.

  ‘Okay, relax, concentrate, but trust yourself, then turn.’

  He nodded again, feeling the nerves in his belly squirming like eels. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath, feeling his magic shifting restlessly beneath his skin as his mind focused and he turned. He could feel the smoke swirl around him, his body momentarily weightless and without form.

  Suddenly he felt himself collide with something soft and warm, and as he felt himself falling, he grabbed onto the nearest thing and rolled as he hit the ground. Blinking as his surroundings swam back into view, he found himself sprawled out on the elegant rose motif rug with his arms wrapped around Eve, who was glaring at him.

  ‘AGAIN?’ she signed angrily.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he winced, ‘I really am sorry Eve. I swear I’m not doing it on purpose.’

  She pushed herself into a sitting position, her skirt pooled around her, as he propped himself up on his elbows. She leaned forward and slapped his forehead lightly.

  She made another angry sign.

  ‘I am not a degenerate,’ he frowned.

  ‘Actually, she said idiot,’ Scarlett commented absently from the corner of the room as she lifted a glass bauble decorated with seed pearls and ribbons and hung it on the Christmas tree. ‘Really Elias,’ Scarlett glanced across at him, ‘we’ve been stuck here together for nearly a month now. I’d have thought you would have picked up more of Eve’s sign language by now.’

  ‘I get by,’ he replied defensively.

  It wasn’t like he wasn’t trying. Although Eve could hear perfectly well so he could speak normally, communicating with her for the first few weeks had been pretty one sided. Firstly, she’d refused to meet his eyes. Every time he’d tried to engage her in conversation, she’d stared at the ground like it contained all the secrets of the universe. Secondly, she could only communicate, when she chose to, by sign language. He’d never heard her so much as cough or squeak. She ruthlessly didn’t allow herself to make any sound at all, which meant the only way he could understand her was to try and learn the confusing sign language she used, which most of the time made no sense. He could’ve sworn she was making it up just to make him feel stupid, but Scarlett and Olivia seemed to understand her just fine.

  Maybe it was just a female thing, he wondered.

  He had at least made the effort to learn her language, but it had been difficult. In addition to the magic lessons Olivia had been giving him every spare moment, he’d also taken a job as a common laborer for the railway company. For the past month, while they’d finished the last of the line at Farringdon, he’d been both working and surreptitiously spying, which had finally paid off. Although Bower had yet to show his face, Elias had overheard one of the gentlemen in charge, by the name of Mr Prentice, mention Bower by name. Olivia was right, the Veritas were somehow tangled up in the building of the new railway system.

  He looked up as Olivia appeared in the room in a rich swirl of elegant lavender smoke. She glanced around the room until her gaze fell upon him and Eve, still sprawled across the floor.

  ‘Again Elias?’ Olivia sighed.

  ‘I’m not doing it on purpose,’ he scowled.

  Olivia was pretty sure he was, even if he didn’t realize it. She was right when she said it was part instinct, but it was also part focus. If he didn’t focus, his instinct would just keep transporting him straight to whatever was on his mind… and lately his mind seemed to be on Eve a lot, not that he’d admit it.

  Elias climbed to his feet and helped Eve up.

  ‘I really am sorry Eve,’ he said softly as he reached for her without thinking and cupping her face gently. ‘Are you sure you’re not hurt?’

  Her eyes widened a fraction as she slowly slid her hand over his, squeezing it slightly before pulling it away from her face and taking a step back.

  ‘I’m fine,’ she signed looking down, her cheeks flushed.

  Olivia glanced across at Scarlett who’d paused in the act of lifting another ornament and was watching with interest. She returned Olivia’s look with a raised brow. Shaking her head, she turned her attention back to the ornament. It was gaudy, pale blue, and hand-painted with a chubby cheeked cherub, with fluffy white feathery wings and a tight mop of blond ringlets.

  She lifted it up for Olivia to see and rolled her eyes, causing Olivia to laugh.

  Their attention was drawn by a sudden ringing in the house, announcing a visitor.

  ‘Are we expecting someone?’ Olivia asked Elias curiously.

  ‘A little surprise,’ he smiled widely and once again Olivia was painfully struck by how much he looked like his brother.

  A moment later the parlor door opened and their butler, Bishop, entered with another man in tow.

  ‘Mr Pierce here to see you, Sir,’ he inclined his head, ‘as arranged.’

  ‘Excellent,’ Elias nodded. ‘Come in Mr Pierce, come in.’

  The three women watched in interest as a rather plain looking, but smartly dressed man crossed the room, holding what appeared to be a box with long legs.

  ‘A photographer?’ Olivia turned to Elias as he moved to stand beside her.

  ‘I thought to immortalize this moment,’ he grinned, ‘before you return home.’

  ‘You do know you’ll never be able to show the photo to anyone,’ she replied.

  ‘I know,’ Elias nodded, ‘this is just for the four of us.’

  ‘Right then,’ Mr Pierce told them briskly. ‘My assistant is preparing the photographic plates as we speak, outside in our portable darkroom. We don’t have much time. If you wouldn’t mind Mr Black?’

  Elias nodded and retrieved a chair which he placed at one side of the tree, and a small cushioned stool which he placed at the other side.

  ‘Miss, if you wouldn’t mind,’ the photographer indicated for Eve to sit on the stool, which she did. ‘Madam?’ he placed Olivia standing slightly behind, at her shoulder. Then he sat Elias in the chair on the opposite side with Scarlett standing behind him, mirroring Olivia.

  ‘Perfect,’ Mr Pierce nodded once again in satisfaction. ‘Now please don’t move.’

  He set the camera on its tripod, leaning forward and peering at it as he adjusted the focus. The door to the parlor opened, and once again Bishop
entered, this time with a younger man, who was carrying the photographic plate sealed tightly in a wooden box so it would not be prematurely exposed to the light.

  ‘Well done Jenkins,’ he took the box and slotted it into place, locking the back of the camera. ‘Now then ladies, Mr Black, as still as possible please. This should only take but a moment.’

  He removed the lens cap and as he did, Scarlett raised her fingers behind Elias’s head, giving him bunny ears. Olivia stuck her tongue out and pulled a funny face, causing Eve to throw her head back unexpectedly and let out a loud and unintentional laugh.

  Elias turned his head and froze, his eyes wide, his lips parted as he listened to the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. Her laugh reached inside him, filling all the dark spaces. His ears began to buzz and the tiny hairs on his arms rose as if the air was suddenly filled with energy.

  Mr Pierce replaced the lens of the camera and blinked as if suddenly, slightly disorientated.

  ‘Wow,’ Olivia remarked as she glanced over to Scarlett, ‘packs quite a punch, doesn’t she?’

  Eve looked horrified, her hand grasped tightly over her mouth and her eyes wide. Suddenly she rose from the stool and ran from the room.

  Olivia moved to follow her, but Scarlett stopped her. ‘Let me,’ she told her softly, before following Eve from the room.

  Scarlett closed the door to the parlor behind her and climbed the stairs slowly. When she reached Eve’s door, she opened it and walked straight in. There she found Eve laying on her bed, her pillow pressed to her face and her shoulders shaking. It didn’t take a genius to figure out she was crying.

  Closing the door quietly, she crossed the room and lit the taper from the cheerfully burning fireplace, using it to light the candle beside the bed. Blowing it out and setting it on the table to give herself time to organize her thoughts, she perched herself on the side of the bed and reached for Eve, stroking her silken hair gently.

  ‘I know,’ Scarlett murmured, ‘I know how hard it is trying to hide what you truly are. I’ve spent my whole life hiding, afraid of what would happen if my enemies found me. Afraid they’d do to me what they did to my mother.’

  Eve’s shoulders settled and Scarlett could tell she was listening.

  ‘I was only a child when they forced me to watch while they tortured my mother. They thought they could control me through fear and for a while it worked, but denying who and what I am? It was slowly killing me Eve.’

  Eve turned slightly, revealing her tear stained face as she glanced up at Scarlett.

  ‘Like me, you were only a child when you watched your mother murdered,’ she whispered sympathetically. ‘But you also had the added fear of your mother making you promise never to speak, never to use your voice, even to laugh or cry. I understand she was trying to protect you; she must’ve loved you very much and I can only imagine her fear for you, but Eve you can’t live your life like this.’

  Eve sat up and wiped the tears from beneath her puffy eyes.

  ‘You don’t understand,’ she signed.

  ‘I understand more than you think,’ Scarlett replied. ‘Up until now you’ve had to survive alone. I can’t fault you on that, but you aren’t alone anymore, and you never will be again. We will all protect you, Olivia and I, Elias, Pearl and everyone at the Cirque. Eve, you are not alone, and you don’t have to hide when you are amongst your friends.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Eve frowned as her fingers moved again.

  ‘Your mother spoke to you, didn’t she? She spoke to others? She used her voice?’ Scarlett replied as Eve watched her intently. ‘I’m old Eve, a lot older than I look, and for all the centuries I’ve walked this earth I’ve only ever met one other of your kind. She was old, very old, nearing the end of her life. She told me that having the voice of a Siren was a terrible burden and a great responsibility. You’ve heard Olivia tell Elias that true magic is neither light nor dark, that it is the witch who uses it for good or ill?’

  Eve nodded, her attention firmly fixed on Scarlett’s face as the shadows cast by the candle flickered and played across her pale skin.

  ‘It is the same for a Siren,’ she told her. ‘Your voice is incredibly powerful. It can be used to harm, and it can be used to control, but that’s not all. You can learn to control it, to be able to speak as we do; you don’t have to exist in a world of silence.’

  Eve frowned as she stared down at the rosebud quilt.

  ‘Just think about it,’ Scarlett rose and smoothed down the skirt of her gown. ‘Your world is whatever you want to make it. People like us, we don’t have to live by other people’s rules. It’s taken me a long time, and meeting Olivia, to realize that. We only have to live by our own conscience, everything else is free will. Your mother is gone, it’s up to you to decide your path now.’

  When Eve lifted her eyes to meet Scarlett’s they were filled with a myriad of conflicting emotions but beneath it all, she could see hope flicker, barely a seed, scarcely formed, but, Scarlett hoped, maybe it would be enough.

  Leaving Eve to her contemplation, she stepped out into the dimly lit corridor and closed the door behind her.

  ‘Mr Pierce!’ Elias called as the man stormed out of the door, holding the camera firmly in his hands. ‘Mr Pierce!’

  ‘Mr Black,’ he stopped abruptly and turned to Elias, ‘you shall receive your portrait, as agreed. I, unlike others, am a professional.’

  ‘My apologies,’ Elias soothed. ‘I highly value your skill and time. I should be happy to double the agreed upon price in recompense for any inconvenience caused to yourself.’

  ‘Humph,’ Mr Pierce huffed, slightly mollified after the uncouth behavior he’d just witnessed. ‘Very well,’ he agreed. ‘I shall have Jenkins deliver the portrait as agreed.’

  Elias watched him stalk away from the house and climb into the back of what essentially amounted to a horse drawn box, rather than a carriage. Splashed across the side of the box in ornate lettering were the words Mr R.J. Pierce, Photographer, Public Buildings, Residences and Family Groups.

  The strange little horse drawn box was obviously his rolling dark room, as the wet plate collodion process had to be processed in such a short amount of time, not giving Mr Pierce and his assistant time to return to his photographic studio before the glass plate was beyond use.

  Shaking his head, Elias turned to step back inside the house but stopped suddenly. A strange sensation skittered down his spine, forcing him to turn and look out into the street. After a moment his dark gaze landed on a figure quite brazenly watching him from beneath the streetlamp.

  There was something familiar about that figure.

  Elias’s feet were moving before he realized it as he crossed the street toward the man. It was only when he neared him that his eyes widened in surprise.

  ‘Lucien?’

  The man’s mouth curved in amusement. He was large and well-built and wore common clothes, but they were clean and well-tended. His eyes were so dark they almost appeared black. There was a scruffy stubble along his jaw, and his hair beneath his cap was unfashionably long, giving him a strange, almost wolfish appearance.

  ‘Elias,’ he returned, his voice an incredibly deep rumble. ‘It’s been a long time.’

  ‘It’s been seventy years,’ Elias replied warily.

  ‘So it has,’ Lucien agreed. ‘Prague, 1792.’

  ‘You haven’t aged a day,’ Elias’s eyes narrowed suspiciously.

  ‘Neither have you my friend,’ Lucien replied. ‘Seems we were both keeping secrets.’

  They’d been friends, sort of. Their paths had crossed in the old world, two lost souls, angry at the world. For a while they’d been inseparable. They’d drunk together, whored together, until finally their paths had taken them their separate ways. Elias had never thought he’d see him again, certainly he’d never imagined Lucien would be long lived or even possibly immortal as he himself seemed to be. Lucien had never given any indication he was anything other than just a man.
/>   ‘What are you doing here?’ Elias asked cagily.

  ‘I should have thought it obvious,’ he answered, ‘I was waiting for you.’ His gaze left Elias’s and swept up to observe the elegant townhouse. ‘That’s some heavy warding you’ve got there Elias; expecting unfriendly company?’

  ‘You tell me,’ he returned.

  ‘It was a coincidence,’ Lucien shrugged. ‘I saw you laboring on the new Metropolitan Line. At first, I couldn’t believe it was you, looking exactly as you did seventy years ago. I had almost convinced myself that it was just a stranger that resembled you, perhaps a descendant, or relative and so I watched you. It soon became clear that you weren’t there for the work, you were there for information. I watched you more closely after that. It seems we have a common goal.’

  ‘And what is that?’ Elias asked carefully.

  ‘You’re looking for the Veritas.’

  Elias’s face went blank as his gaze flicked to Lucien’s wrists. Sensing Elias’s stare, Lucien lifted his arms and one by one, pulled his sleeves back to reveal his clean unmarked skin.

  He nodded his head to Elias, who lifted his own arms and pulled back his sleeves revealing that his skin too, was unmarred.

  ‘Now that we’ve both ascertained we’re not one of those low life scum, shall we get to the point.’

  ‘Be my guest,’ Elias replied coolly.

  ‘You’re looking for someone called Bower. I know the little weasel; he’s fairly lowly placed within the Veritas right now, but he’s rising through their ranks quickly. He’s ruthless, ambitious and hungry for power and... I can tell you where he’s going to be.’

  ‘Why?’ Elias asked suspiciously.

  ‘Because I want something too,’ Lucien shrugged.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I want Jonathan Faraday,’ he replied, his eyes glinting dangerously.

  ‘What?’ Elias frowned in confusion.

  ‘Your man Bower has arranged to meet with him. Their organization has built a concealed meeting place beneath the ground, adjoining the new underground train line. Bower is set to meet with Faraday Tuesday week.’