by J Wells
I stay lying low between the holly bushes, and as I look up I see that the dark clouds of night have lightened as dawn approaches. I sit and pull up my knees to my chest, and gaze between the branches of the trees. The black angels have left the sky and now roam the forest floor like lost shadows, their movements resembling those of ballerinas; so light on foot, it seems they disturb nothing they walk upon.
I rub my eyes and wonder how long I have slept and if any of my friends are alive. I sit in an eerie silence; there is no crack of a twig or branch, and even the birds don’t utter a song to welcome the new day.
I scan my surroundings for a pathway through the forest and something catches my attention. Caspar is peering around the side of a tree and waves; I wave back. I can’t help the disappointment that wells in my chest that it is neither Lucian nor Tristan. Caspar reaches down to the ground, turns his back on me and throws a large rock. The creatures stop what they are doing and crouch on all fours, feeling the earth with their long talon hands, as if trying to pick up on vibrations, like ants. The winged creatures assemble and, like a black cape, flee towards the rock. Caspar’s perfect decoy, I think as I watch him weave between the trees to join me. I back away from his open-arm embrace.
“Where…?”
Before I have chance to ask, Caspar interrupts. “They’re all dead.”
“Tristan?” I enquire, but his answer is a shrug of the shoulders.
“Lucian?”
“Lucian … is as good as dead. He waits at the bridge for the sun to come up.”
“But, Caspar, how could Lucian be so stupid?”
“Can’t you see we’re finished? Our vampire sleep is moments away, we can’t fight it. There’s no way for us to get below ground without exposing the others. Go, Rose, go to Lucian; if you are quick you’ll have time to say your final goodbye.”
“But the angels…”
Caspar reaches for my hand, and clutching it between his, he looks into my eyes.
“Like vampires they are creatures of darkness. They will hide in the trees, clinging onto the shadows until night falls.”
My eyes leave his and rise to see the sun climbing its way into the sky, though its brilliance is masked by clouds. If I were to run, would the dark angels hear me? Would they return? And do I trust Caspar?
His auburn hair dances across the frown he wears.
“Is Lucian really at the bridge? If so, why are you helping me?” I ask.
“Maybe it’s just too late to hold a grudge,” he says with a shrug of his shoulders. “I never hated you, Rose, I just wanted to scare you off for fear of what you’d bring.”
There really is no answer, and all I can do is offer him a weak smile. I gaze up and see the edge of the sun peeking out from its cloud. I have to see Lucian before it’s too late. As I run, leaves crunch and branches splinter beneath my feet. With a quick glance behind me, I see the dark angels, their squeals mingling in the air as they run after me. Faster and faster I run, hardly able to breathe. When I turn again I see their faces as they leap into their air, and gasp as their dark forms pounce on me. I’m thrown into darkness as I feel their claws scratching my arms. Their weight pushes me to the ground, and I force myself to breathe.
I blink up at some flecks of light and feel the weight on my chest lift. The black angels shatter before me, falling to lie on my body like shards of glass. Thousands upon thousands of grey-winged bobowlers flit around my face, entering my nose and mouth. Spluttering, I spit them out and smack them away with my hands. Pushing myself from the floor, I blindly scramble to my feet and start to run, leaving the grey mass behind.
I stop for a second, leaning forward with my hands on my thighs as I try to get my breath back. I peer around, thankful that there is not a moth in sight. Daylight streams into the forest, and I know I haven’t got long. Gazing at my feet I follow the downtrodden grass that leads to the river, where I know Lucian to be. Partially blinded by the early morning sunlight, I bring my hand up to my forehead and squint to see Lucian’s figure, but I see no one. I hurry forward onto the wooden slats and cringe as the splinters cut into my feet. What I see almost trips me up, and I stop. It is not the Lucian I know, standing proud as he looks out at the fast-flowing waters, but a depleted body lying there, twisted and frail. I hurry to his side. His face is drawn, his eyes are closed.
“Lucian, wake up!” I shout, rocking his shoulders with my hands.
I see one eyelid partially open and his attempt at a soft smile.
“Come on, Lucian, the sun.”
I grab the dark material of his tuxedo in my hands and try to drag him.
“I’ve got to get you underground.”
But he is like a dead weight in my hands and I cannot move him.
“No, Rose.” A feeble voice passes between his lips. “The sun, look at the sun, isn’t she glorious?”
“Yes, Lucian, it’s beautiful, but if you stay here it will kill you. Please come with me before it’s too late.”
“No.” He shakes his head and pushes my hands from his shoulders. “It’s too late … in so many ways.”
As the breeze passes over his face, particles of dust leave with it. I trace his features with my eyes, and watch as they disintegrate before me.
I attempt to pull him once again, only this time my fingers sink into his shoulders. My whole body shakes and I feel physically sick.
“Lucian, I’m so sorry, this is all my fault. Please wake up, you can’t leave me!” I scream through my falling tears.
I pull my hands away from him and sit tall.
“You don’t need to die.”
I clear my hair from my neck, thinking back to Tristan’s words. It doesn’t have to end this way, there is a loophole to the curse: if I were to love Lucian completely, the kind of love I’d be willing to die for. I lean over him so that the soft skin of my neck hovers above his lips, allowing me to feel his faint breaths. I gaze up towards the sun.
“Bite me, God damn it, while there’s still time.”
His voice is no more than the faintest of whispers. “You’ve got to mean it, you’ve got to love me.”
Love can be depicted in so many ways, and although it is far from the explosive love I feel for Tristan, I do love Lucian, in my mind there’s no doubt, and after everything I’ve put him through, if I have to die so that he can live, so be it.
“Yes, Lucian, yes…”
My head falls to the side as I feel the graze of his teeth, but there is no intense pain.
“Rose…”
A voice is calling me, and turning my head slightly I see a halo of white that has masked the sun. Whichever way I look I am surrounded by angelic-looking men, their bodies partially clad in togas, their white wings unfolding before my eyes.
“Tristan?” I call out, searching their faces.
“We are here; we have come to take his soul to heaven.”
“No, you can’t!”
I throw my arms around Lucian’s body, holding him tight. I feel movement beneath me, and lifting slightly, I catch his eyes. They are green, beautiful; he is mortal. All along this was what Tristan wanted, he’d had his orders, and now Lucian is human, his soul is pure. They can kill him and take him to heaven; then their work on earth will be done.
“It’s okay, Rose, we all have to die sometime.”
“No, I will not let them take you, not now.” I look up into the angels’ eyes. “I have saved him, at least let him have a life. Take me instead,” I sob.
I watch as they separate and leave a pathway between them.
“It doesn’t work that way.”
My eyes widen. I know that voice. Tristan walks towards me and kneels down, holding a crystal-handled knife in his right hand.
“No, Tristan.”
I push his hand away, but he takes my wrist, and placing my hand over his, we hold the knife together. The angels that stand surrounding us lose their sharp edges, and then like wispy white clouds they take to the sky and float within its blu
e backdrop.
“Tristan, I can’t do this, I can’t kill him.”
I jerk my hand away and gaze at Lucian, who smiles up at me.
“Don’t worry, Rose, it’s okay.”
He reaches up for the knife and takes it from us, before positioning the blade over his heart. Tristan slides his hand under its sharp tip. Our eyes meet.
“Do you remember the afternoon we sat and watched The Notebook together?”
“Are you serious?” I snap, pulling my wrist from between his fingers, but he grabs it back.
“The angels are watching us, Rose, we have very little time. And time,” he adds, smiling, “is your gift.”
I shake my head. “Tristan, you’re talking in riddles.” My eyes narrow. “This is just a distraction so that you can kill him!” I shout into his face.
He laughs at me. “Rose, angels don’t fall in love with humans.”
“So you’re saying you don’t love me?” I question.
“I never said that.”
He pulls me closer to him. I see him slip his hand from beneath the knife and move it so that the blade is touching Lucian’s skin. Then he rests his lips against my ear.
“We can change the past, but change brings with it dire consequences.”
I look down into Lucian’s green eyes, then back up at Tristan’s smile.
“I don’t care … do it.”
“Remember the night of the masquerade,” he whispers. “Take us back there, take us back there now … take in everything around you.” His voice soothes me. “Can you hear the wheels of the carriage in which you ride as they rattle against the cobblestone road? Can you breathe as easily with the laced corset around your waist? Lift your hand from your lap, put aside the small drawstring bag you carry and brush the silken material of your dress between your fingers. Now, open your eyes.”
I gaze around in wonder. It is now daylight, and Lucian and Tristan are no more. I am sitting in an old-fashioned carriage, the seat hard against my back, being pulled along by dapple-grey horses.
“Tristan, how are you doing this?”
Although he is not by my side, his voice is constant in my mind.
“Look around you, Rose. Admire the trees set in darkness. Can you make out the turrets stretching skyward? If you look hard enough you will see Fordwickston Castle as it welcomes your arrival… The carriage has drawn up and you step out. You are now walking towards the entrance to the castle.”
I am here again, and in a dream-like state I can feel the undulation of cobblestones beneath me as my legs move subconsciously. I turn back and see as one carriage after another pulls up and mine departs. I shake my head. I feel inhibited by something that is secured tightly around my face. I attempt to lift my hand to remove whatever it is, but as I do so, my arm is taken and linked into another’s.
I look to my right, but on this occasion it is Tristan, not Lucian, who is standing at my side and walking me into the hallway of this grand building. With a quick glance over my shoulder, I see that only steps behind us stands Lucian, arm in arm with Jazlynn; they are lost in conversation and look so happy together as they follow us in to join the party.
I smile down at the mass of frills on my kingfisher-blue evening gown; I never thought I would see it again.
The room I approach is filled with music, raised voices and laughter. I look towards the ladies and gentleman with whom I am cajoled along towards a further open door. They too are dressed like me, with the women wearing eye-catching ball gowns in every shade of the rainbow. The men are dressed in black suits and waistcoats, with cravats tied at their necks. I catch sight of Julian, Felix and Harrold, and moments later see the frown worn by Caspar as he glances towards Lucian and Jazlynn.
I feel my arm being pulled by Tristan, and we pass through the open doorway into the magnificent ballroom. Tristan and I stand to the edge of the dance floor whilst Lucian and Jazlynn float past us. I smile as Lucian twirls her around in his arms; everything sits so perfectly in my mind.
It feels as if the instruments are being played for them alone. All the other guests seem like spectators as they stand quietly and watch Jazlynn and Lucian’s light steps passing over the marble floor. I see Lucian release Jazlynn and pull off his mask; I see him whispering what can only be sweet nothings into her ear. I hear the gasps around the room as their lips meet and they kiss.
Pulling away from her, he calls out, “Oh dear, what will my guests make of my behaviour? I can almost see them whispering behind their hands and hear their tongues as they wag. What a scandal, what a scandalous affair!” He laughs, and with a quick shake of his head his attention is turned back to Jazlynn. “Madam, one dance and you have me bewitched.”
Caspar’s cough is followed shortly by another.
“Have I taken leave of my senses?” Lucian’s tone is stern as he pulls Jazlynn closer. “As you were!” he shouts to his guests.
The orchestra strikes up and the next dance is announced. Tristan pulls me on to the dance floor and once again we are lost between the gaieties of galloping feet. As I’m spun to the right, I see Lucian leading Jazlynn out of the castle and into the gardens.
Tristan’s arms are firmly around my waist; I know our steps are wrong, but tonight I don’t care. There are so many questions that need to be asked. Later, I think, gazing up into Tristan’s eyes.
“I love you with all my heart,” he whispers.
“Well, I don’t love you.” I smirk.
“You look beautiful tonight. What I would give to rip off your dress and take you right here, right now. Give these nineteenth-century prudes something to really talk about, add a little scandal to these times.”
Tittering, the orchestra’s music takes us around the room.
The door from the garden bangs open and the orchestra falls into silence. Heads turn as Lucian enters and I watch as he collapses to the floor.
I jerk my head round to face Tristan.
“We’ve changed the past for nothing. Lucian still has consumption, he’s still going to die.”
I pull myself from Tristan’s hold and run to where the guests circle Lucian. Bobbing between heads to see him, it is only seconds before I am ushered aside by Edmond, who bends down, lifts Lucian into his arms and strides out of the ballroom, taking him to his bedchamber.
I hear the guests talking amongst themselves and watch them disperse into small groups before leaving. I feel warm fingers against mine as Tristan takes my hand.
“Rose, we need to get out of here.”
“But…”
“This is something you can’t question. The past is the past for a reason, and what will be will be. But this time, we shall play no part in it.”
We walk through the hallway. From upstairs we are able to overhear Lucian’s incoherent ranting. The front door is ajar, and as Tristan pushes it open he beckons me to leave. We stand outside in the cool night air and the door slams behind us. Screams can be heard from inside. Nobody turns back or opens the door to re-enter, and all the guests run to their carriages. I stand with Tristan, and we watch as they leave down the driveway. Once again hand in hand, Tristan leads me to my carriage, though it is not a leisurely stroll we take; he pulls me along, my feet dragged over the cobblestones.
“Tristan, wait!” I demand.
As I rest my foot on the bottom step of the carriage, I can’t help but take one final look back. The castle, the grounds, everything that stood there only moments earlier has gone, as though it has been swallowed up by the earth; tonight Fordwickston Castle has been wiped off the map.
The coachman closes our door.
“Yah…” he calls.
I see the whip lash towards the floor, and the carriage moves on.
“Tristan, what the fuck? You said we could change the past, you said we could make things right.”
“Rose, I have changed the past, but we’re not part of it now. Whatever happens to Lucian is meant to be, and has been written since the beginning of time. Your path
and his were never meant to cross in any lifetime.”
“I don’t understand.”
“No, but you will. Lean back in my arms and let us enjoy the carriage, the horses and our journey together. When we slow and the carriage is called to a halt, I will take your hand and you will take us forwards to the twenty-first century. You will jump from the bridge, but this time Lucian will not be there to catch you; it will be my arms you will fall into. This will be our perfect introduction. You think you’ve felt love, you think you’ve seen adventure, but your journey in life has only just begun.”
On hearing his words I sink back into his arms. He pulls me closer and his chin nestles against my neck. I feel the carriage slow beneath me and feel Tristan’s warm fingers link with my own. The horses’ reigns are pulled and the carriage slows to a halt.
“No, Tristan,” I plead, gazing up into his eyes.
“The faces you saw in the clouds and the voices you heard in your head are your demons, and each time they come to you the voices will grow louder, their faces will become clearer, and they will not stop until you jump to your death.”
I open my mouth to speak, but Tristan’s presses his finger firmly against my lips, silencing me. There’s so much I need to ask him, so much left unsaid.
“It is time … the future awaits,” he whispers in my ear.
His hands cover my face, throwing me into total darkness.
“Can you feel the crisp autumn leaves beneath your feet? As you run can you feel the hem of your nightgown lift in the breeze? Can you hear the fast-flowing waters that lie below? Holding on with one hand, you are leaning out from the bridge… Now, Rose, open your eyes to reality.”