The Vampire Diaries: The Return: Midnight

by L. J. Smith

  Elena turned back to Lady Ulma. “Yes, I am afraid for the child. Why not call her Ulma?”

  The patrician lady half shut her eyes. “Because, my dear Elena, Helena, Aliena, Alliana, Laynie, Ella—I would not wish ‘Ulma’ on anyone, much less my lovely daughter.”

  “Why not call her Adara?” Lakshmi put in suddenly. “I always thought that was pretty, since I was a kid.”

  There was a silence—almost a stunned silence. Then Elena said, “Adara—it’s a lovely name.”

  “And not at all dangerous,” Bonnie said.

  Stefan said, “It wouldn’t stop her from starting a revolution if she wanted to.”

  There was a pause. Everyone looked at Damon, who was looking out the window expressionlessly. Everyone waited.

  He finally turned. “Oh, excellent,” he said blankly, clearly having no idea—and less interest—in what they were talking about.

  “Oh come on, Damon.” Bonnie’s eyes were still swollen, but she spoke brightly. “Make it unanimous! That way Lady Ulma will be sure.” Good God, Stefan thought, she must be the most forgiving girl in the universe.

  “Certainly, then,” Damon said indifferently.

  “Forgive us,” Elena said tightly to the room in general. “We’ve all been going through a bit of a hard time.”

  That gave Lady Ulma her cue. “Of course you have,” she said, smiling the smile of one who has known bitter suffering. “Bonnie has told us of the destruction of your town. I am deeply sorry. What you need now is food and rest. I’ll have someone conduct you to your rooms.”

  “I should have introduced Stefan at the start, but I was so worried I forgot to,” Elena said. “Stefan, this is Lady Ulma, who was so good to us before. Lady Ulma—well, you know who this is.” She went on tiptoe to kiss Stefan lingeringly. Lingeringly enough that Stefan had to gently detach her and put her down. He was almost frightened at this display of bad manners. Elena was really angry at Damon. And if she didn’t forgive him, the scenes would only continue to escalate—and if he was right, Elena was truly getting closer to being able to cast Wings of Destruction.

  He didn’t even consider asking Damon to forgive anyone.

  After the girls had whispered raptures over the baby again, they were conducted to opulent bed chambers, each furnished in excellent taste, down to the smallest decoration. As usual, though, they all congregated in one room, which happened to be Stefan’s.

  There was more than enough space on the bed for the three of them to sit or flop. Damon wasn’t present but Stefan would bet his undead life that he was listening in.

  “All right,” Elena said briskly, and went into storytelling mode. She explained to Bonnie everything that had happened through their taking the Master Keys from Shinichi and Misao, to their flight to Lady Ulma’s bathing chamber.

  “To have so much Power suddenly torn away from you in an instant…” Bonnie had her head down, and it wasn’t hard to guess who she was thinking about. She looked up. “Please, Elena. Don’t be so angry at Damon. I know he’s done some bad things—but he’s been so unhappy…”

  “That’s no excuse,” Elena began. “And, frankly, I’m—”

  Don’t, Elena! Don’t tell her that you’re ashamed of her for putting up with it! She’s already ashamed of herself!

  “I’m surprised at him,” Elena said with only the smallest hesitation. “I know for a fact that he cares for you. He even has a pet name for you: his little redbird.”

  Bonnie sniffed. “You always say that pet names are stupid.”

  “Well, but I meant names like—oh—if he called you ‘Bonbon’ or something.”

  Bonnie’s head came up. “Even that would be okay for the baby,” she said, with a sudden smile, like a rainbow after a storm.

  “Oh, yes, isn’t she adorable? I never saw such a happy baby. Margaret used to just look at you with big eyes. Adara—if she is Adara—should have such a happy life…”

  Stefan settled back against the headboard. Elena had the situation in hand.

  Now he could worry about where Damon was going. After a moment he tuned back in, to find Bonnie talking about treasure.

  “And they kept asking me and asking me and I couldn’t figure out why since the star ball with the story on it was right there. Only the story is gone now—Damon checked. Shinichi was going to throw me out the window, and that was when Damon rescued me, and the Guardians asked me about the story too.”

  “Strange,” Stefan said, sitting up alertly. “Bonnie, tell me how you first felt this story; where you were and all.”

  Bonnie said, “Well, first I saw a story about a little girl named Marit going to buy a sugarplum—that was why I tried to do the same thing the next day. And then I went to bed, but I couldn’t sleep. So then I picked up the star ball again and it showed me the story about the kitsune treasures. The stories are shown in order, so it had to be the one right after the sweetshop story. And then suddenly I was out of my body, and I was flying with Elena right over Alaric’s car.”

  “Did you do anything in between experiencing the story and going to bed?” Stefan asked.

  Bonnie thought; her rosebud mouth pursed. “I suppose I turned down the gas lamp. Every night I would turn the lamp way down so that it was only a flicker.”

  “And did you turn it back up again when you couldn’t sleep and reached for the star ball again?”

  “Um…no. But they’re not books! You don’t have to see to experience a story.”

  “That wasn’t what I meant. How did you find the star ball in that dim room? Was it the only star ball on the floor near you?”

  Bonnie’s brows came together. “Well…no. There were twenty-six. Two others were hideous; I’d kicked those into a corner. Twenty-five were soap operas—so boring. It’s not as if I had shelves or anywhere else to put them—”

  “Bonnie, do you want to know what I think happened?”

  Bonnie blinked and nodded.

  “I think that you read a children’s story and then you went to bed. And you actually fell asleep very quickly, even though you dreamed you were awake. Then you dreamed a premonition—”

  Bonnie groaned. “Another one of those? But there wasn’t even anyone to tell it to then!”

  “Exactly. But you wanted to tell it to someone, and that longing brought you—your spirit—to where Elena was. But Elena was so worried about getting word across to Alaric that she was having an out-of-body experience. She’d been asleep too, I’m sure of it.” Stefan looked at Elena. “What do you think of that?”

  28

  Elena was nodding slowly. “It would work with what happened to me. At first I was alone out of my body, but then I saw Bonnie beside me.”

  Bonnie bit her lip. “Well…the first thing I saw was Elena and we were both flying. I was a little behind her. But Stefan, why do you think I fell asleep and dreamed a whole story? Why can’t my version just be true?”

  “Because I think the first thing you’d have done would be to turn the light on—if you really were lying there awake. Otherwise, you might well have picked up a soap opera—so boring!”

  Bonnie’s forehead smoothed at last. “That would explain why nobody believed me even when I told them exactly where the story was! But why didn’t I tell Elena about the treasure?”

  “I don’t know. But sometimes when you wake up—and I think you did wake up to have the out-of-body experience—you forget the dream if something interesting is going on. But then you might remember it later if something reminds you of it.”

  Bonnie stared into a middle distance, thinking. Stefan was silent, knowing that only she could unravel the riddle for herself.

  At last Bonnie nodded. “It could be that way! I woke up and the first thing I thought of was the sweetshop. And after that I never gave another thought to the treasure dream until somebody asked for stories. And it just popped into my head.”

  Elena pushed the deep blue-green velvet coverlet one way to make it green, then the other way to smoo
th it into blueness.

  “I was going to forbid Bonnie to go on the expedition,” she said: this slave who didn’t have a gem on her body except Stefan’s pendant which hung from a fine chain around her neck, and was still in the simplest kind of after-bath robe. “But if it’s something we have to do, I’d better talk to Lady Ulma. It sounds as if time is precious.”

  “Remember—time runs differently here than back on Earth. But we’re supposed to leave in the morning,” Bonnie said.

  “Then I definitely need to talk to her—right now.”

  Bonnie jumped up, excited. “I’ll help!”

  “Wait.” Stefan put a gentle hand on Bonnie’s arm. “I have to say this. I think you’re a miracle, Bonnie!” Stefan knew his eyes must be shining in a way that showed he could hardly rein in his excitement. In spite of the danger—in spite of the Guardians—in spite of everything…the largest star ball—full of Power!

  He gave Bonnie a sudden impetuous hug, sweeping her off the bed and whirling her before putting her down again. “You and your precognitions!”

  “Oooh…” Bonnie said dizzily, gazing up at him. “Damon was excited, too, when I told him about the Gateway of the Seven Treasures.”

  “You know why, Bonnie? It’s because everybody has heard about those seven treasures—but no one had any idea where they are…until you dreamed it. You do know exactly where they are?”

  “Yes, if the precognition was true.” Bonnie was flushed with pleasure. “And you agree that that giant star ball will save Fell’s Church?”

  “I’d bet my life on it!”

  “Woo-hoo!” cried Bonnie, pumping a fist. “Let’s go!”

  “So you see,” Elena was saying, “it’ll mean twice as much of everything. I don’t see how we can start tomorrow.”

  “Now, now, Elena. As we discovered, oh, eleven months ago when you left, any job can be done quickly if we summon enough hands. I am now the regular employer of all those women we used to call in to make your ball gowns.” As Lady Ulma spoke she quickly and gracefully took Elena’s measurements—why do only one thing when you can do two at once? She glanced at her measuring tape. “Still exactly the same as when I last saw you. You must lead a very healthy life, Elena.”

  Elena laughed. “Remember, for us it’s only been a few days.”

  “Oh, yes.” Lady Ulma laughed, too, and Lakshmi, who was seated on a stool amusing the baby, made what Elena knew was one last appeal.

  “I could go with you,” she said earnestly, looking at Elena. “I can do all sorts of helpful things. And I’m tough—”

  “Lakshmi,” Lady Ulma said gently, but in a voice that wore the hat of authority. “We’re already doubling the size of the wardrobe needed to accommodate Elena and Stefan. You wouldn’t want to take Elena’s place, would you?”

  “Oh, no, no,” the young girl said hastily. “Oh, well,” she said, “I’ll take such good care of little Adara that she’s no bother to you while you supervise Elena’s and Stefan’s clothes.”

  “Thank you, Lakshmi,” Elena said from her heart, noting that Adara now seemed to be the baby’s official name.

  “Well, we can’t let out any of Bonnie’s things to fit you, but we can call in reinforcements and have a full set of garments ready for you and Stefan by the morning. It’s just a matter of leather and fur to keep you warm. We use the pelts of the animals up north.”

  “They’re not nice, cuddly baby animals, either,” Bonnie said. “They’re vicious nasty things that are used for training, or they might come up from the dimension below and attack all the people on the northern fringes here. And when they finally get killed, the bounty hunters sell the leather and fur to Lady Ulma.”

  “Oh, well…good,” Elena said, deciding not to make an animal rights speech just now. The truth was that she was still very shaken by her actions—her reactions—toward Damon. Why had she acted that way? Was it just to let off pressure? She still felt as if she could smack him a good one for taking poor Bonnie away, and then leaving her alone. And…and…for taking poor Bonnie—and not taking her!

  Damon must hate her now, she thought, and suddenly the world developed a sickening, out-of-control motion, as if she were trying to balance on a seesaw. And Stefan—what else could he think but that she was a woman scorned, the kind that Hell had no fury like? How could he be so kind, so caring, when anyone in their right mind would know she’d gone mad with jealousy?

  Bonnie didn’t understand either. Bonnie was a child, not a woman. Although, although, she’d grown somehow—in goodness, in understanding. She was willfully blind, like Stefan. But—didn’t that take maturity?

  Could Bonnie be more of a woman than she, Elena, was?

  “I’ll have a private supper sent up to your rooms,” Lady Ulma was saying, as she quickly and deftly used the measuring tape on Stefan. “You get a good night’s sleep; the thurgs—and your wardrobes—will be waiting tomorrow.” She beamed at all of them.

  “Could I have—I mean, is there any Black Magic at all?” Elena stumbled. “The excitement…I’m going to sleep in my room alone. I want to get a good night’s rest. We’re going on a quest, you know?” All the truth. All a lie.

  “Of course, I’ll have a bottle sent to—” Lady Ulma hesitated and then quickly recovered. “To your room, but why don’t we all have a nightcap now? It looks just the same outside,” she added to Stefan, the newcomer, “but it’s really rather late.”

  Elena drank her first glass in one draft. The attendant had to refill it immediately. And again a moment later. After that her nerves seemed to relax a bit. But the seesaw feeling never entirely left, and though she slept alone in her room, Damon didn’t visit to quarrel with her, mock her, or kill her—and certainly not to kiss.

  Thurgs, Elena discovered, were something like two elephants stitched together. Each had two side-by-side trunks and four wicked-looking tusks. Each also had a high, wide, long ridged tail, like a reptile. Their small yellow eyes were placed all around their domelike heads, so that they could see 360 degrees around, looking for predators. Predators that could take down a thurg!

  Elena imagined a sort of saber-toothed cat, enormous, with a milk-white pelt big enough to line several garments of hers and Stefan’s. She was pleased with her new outfits. Each one was essentially a tunic and breeches, soft, pliable, rain-shedding leather on the outside; and warm, luxurious fur on the inside. But they wouldn’t be genuine Lady Ulma creations if that was all there were to them. The inner bodysuit of white fur was reversible and removable so you could change depending on the weather. There were triple-thick wind-around collars, which trailed behind or could be turned into scarves that wrapped a face up to the eyes. The white pelts spilled out of the leather at the wrists to make mittens you couldn’t lose. The guys had straight leather tunics that just met at the breeches, and fastened with buttons. The girls’ tunics were longer and flared out a bit. They were neatly fringed, but not stained or dyed except for Damon’s, which, of course, were black with sable fur.

  One thurg would carry the travelers and their baggage. A second, larger and wilder looking, would carry heating stones to help cook human food and all the food (it looked like red hay) that the two thurgs would eat on the way to the Nether World.

  Pelat showed them how to move the giant creatures, with the lightest of taps of a very long stick, which could scratch a thurg behind its hippo-like ears or give it a ferocious tap at that sensitive spot, signaling it to hasten forward.

  “Is it safe, having Biratz carry all the thurg food? I thought you said she was unpredictable,” Bonnie asked Pelat.

  “Now, miss, I wouldn’t give her to you if she wasn’t safe. She’ll be roped to Dazar so all she has to do is follow,” Pelat replied.

  “We ride these?” Stefan said, craning his neck to get a look at the small, enclosed palanquin on top of the very large animal.

  “We have to,” Damon said flatly. “We can hardly walk all the way. We’re not allowed to use magic like that fancy Ma
ster Key you used to get here. No magic but telepathy works up at the very top of the Dark Dimension. These dimensions are flat like plates, and according to Bonnie, there’s a fracture, just at the far north of this one—not too far from here, in other words. The crack is small by dimensional standards, but big enough for us to get through. If we want to reach the Gatehouse of the Seven Treasures we start on thurgs.”

  Stefan shrugged. “All right. We’re doing it your way.”

  Pelat was putting a ladder up. Lady Ulma, Bonnie, and Elena were weeping and laughing over the baby together.

  They were still laughing as they left on their way.

  The first week or so was boring. They sat in the palanquin on the back of the thurg named Dazar, with a compass from Elena’s backpack dangling from the roof. They generally kept all the sides of the palanquin’s curtains rolled up, except the one facing west, where the bloated, bloody red sun—too bright to look at in the higher, cleaner air outside the city—constantly loomed on the horizon. The view all around them was dreadfully monotonous—mind-bendingly so, with few trees and many miles of dried brown grassy hills. Nothing interesting to a non-hunter ever showed up. The only thing that changed was as they traveled farther north, it got colder.

  It was difficult for all of them, living in such close quarters. Damon and Elena had reached an equilibrium—or at least a pretense—of ignoring each other, something Elena would never have imagined could be possible. Damon made it easier by working on a different sleep cycle than the others—which helped to guard them as the thurgs trudged onward, day and night. If he was awake when Elena was, he would ride outside the palanquin, on the thurg’s enormous neck. They both had such stiff necks, Elena thought. Neither of them wanted to be the first to bend.

  Meanwhile those inside the palanquin began to play little games, like picking the long dried grasses from the side of the road and trying to weave them into dolls, fly whisks, hats, whips. Stefan proved to be the one who made the tightest weave, and he made fly whisks and broad fans for each of them.