The Price of Life

by T. M. Nienaber

  “Are you sure about him, Lucian?” A woman, dressed a little too chic to be seen at a gathering like this, whispered to Lucian, pulling him off to the side and looking suspiciously at Kristopher.

  “He could be an asset,” Lucian responded blandly, not trying to defend his decision.

  “I think it’s more likely he’ll be a liability.” The woman crossed her arms in a way that displayed her perfectly manicured fingernails and started to tap a designer shoe. “Are you even intending to train him in anything? Put him through what the rest of us had to go through before we got to this point?”

  “Belle, please,” his voice was still bland but authority and annoyance started creeping in the longer she tapped her foot. “He’ll never really be one of us if he isn’t trained. All of us understand that much.”

  “Of course, he just gets the perks most of the people in this room will slave for years and still not be able to achieve.”

  “Immortality isn’t the gift everyone working towards it thinks it is. You know that, Belle, you were here for my father’s time as a leader. You’ve been around longer than most. All that time and I know I’ve seen those shoes before.” Lucian regretted the pettiness of his last statement immediately.

  “Your father was a great leader, Lucian, held us together better than you ever will. You have a relationship with whatever it is we see when we die that’s stronger than anything any of us could or would wish to have. You don’t want to upset them. Because the one thing I know about immortality is that it gets a lot longer when you start aging.”

  “Belle?” Lucian started to notice the details of her face. Lines that hadn’t been there for centuries finally finding their way to the surface. “They can take it away?”

  “They don’t seem to like Kristopher.”

  “It could just be you. If you’re forgetting to pay the right price, skipping days and hoping for the best. They don’t like that. This could just be pay back.”

  Belle looked uncertain for just long enough to let Lucian know he was in charge again. “I don’t know, it’s been a long time, Lucian. Maybe I just don’t like him,” Belle finally muttered, her face cast down at the floor.

  “We need his help.” Lucian was self-assured again.

  “Are you sure?” Belle’s eyes turned innocent and questioning, waiting for the answers no one could give to her.

  “Yes.” Lucian wasn’t as sure as his tone implied but he sounded like a leader and Belle accepted it. The other members of the cult would take him at his word, accepting Kristopher as long as he was kept at a distance.

  Lucian rejoined the group and gestured for Belle to stand next to him. Her eyes flitted from Kristopher to Lucian to Kristopher.

  “Are you ready?” Belle finally walked over to Kristopher and tried to give him a reassuring smile while holding a glimmering, jewel encrusted piece of metal. It was some kind of ancient ceremonial dagger, used more for Kristopher’s benefit as an outsider than out of actual ceremony.

  Kristopher looked at Lucian, who nodded. He took the dagger, not sure what to do next, or not willing to admit to himself what the next step would be.

  Lucian snapped his fingers and three members, two from the older front clumps and one from the middle, surrounded Lucian in a triangle. The rest of the congregation continued to chatter among themselves. A few of the younger ones turned to watch but otherwise no one seemed to care. Kristopher was surprised. He’d expected something on a much larger scale. He made a note to teach Lucian some theatrics for when things went public.

  “Now, there’s really very little for you to do. I’m going to chant some things in a language you won’t understand and when I pause and look at you you’ll stick the knife in your heart. Quick and deep. By this point you’ll start to feel numb and hot, so it shouldn’t hurt too much.” There was some stifled laughter from the triangle but Lucian silenced it with a glare. “You’ll black out for awhile and then come back. That’s really all you need to know.”

  Kristopher nodded and didn’t ask any questions. Something about Lucian’s offhand attitude made him nervous, like there were rules and loopholes no one was bothering to tell him. He’d have to make sure Lucian stayed under his thumb somehow. He looked up at Lucian one more time then raised the dagger and waited for a pause. Once it came he stabbed the blade as deep into his chest as he could. The knife was sharper than he had expected and Kristopher thought he finally understood the expression ‘like a knife through butter’… and very intimately. The sharpness did keep it from hurting as much as it could have but it was far from painless. Kristopher did everything he could to bite back screams of pain but even with the taste of blood in his mouth nothing seemed to be held back. He started to choke on a combination of blood and air. His muscles felt like they were deteriorating under his skin and he fell to the floor. At the last minute Kristopher changed his mind in the kind of panic you only feel in the last seconds of your life and he clawed at the knife in his chest frantically, as if pulling it out would reverse the damage it had already done. The panic only lasted a few more seconds and he crumpled to the floor. He had nothing of the beauty Lucian did in death, probably because he hadn’t had as much practice. It was fear of death that left ugliness written on the corpse’s face. The absolute apathy Lucian had for death made him beautiful. Kristopher would have made a mental note to remember that if he’d been in a position to see the difference. No one else seemed too concerned with his expression.

  Lucian made sure Kristopher was dead before pulling the knife out of his chest and chanting something under his breath. He took the knife and laid it diagonally across Kristopher’s chest and the triangle-turned-circle got tighter. Lucian was obviously leading the chant but everyone was speaking at a different pace and at a different section. When Lucian stopped everyone stopped. The room went silent. Lucian took the knife and once again stabbed it directly into Kristopher’s heart, then pulled it out again. As the knife was pulled out Kristopher choked to life for a few seconds and then fell back. The circle seemed satisfied and everyone started to go back to their groups and chatter started up again. Lucian cleaned the blade on Kristopher’s pant leg and then ordered for it to be locked away. He nudged Kristopher’s body with his toe but there was no response.

  “Someone get me a chair and some coffee.”

  The woman closest to Lucian nodded and brought over a chair then ordered someone else to make fresh coffee.

  It was important anyone being raised from the dead for the first time be watched until fully recovered. Depending on the temperament of the person they could wake up fine, manic-depressive, or just plain psychotic. It was important someone was there to keep them from going off on a killing spree or killing themselves, or any other number of things people do when their minds have been separated from reality. Lucian was certain Kristopher would be fine but it was tradition; and they couldn’t afford to risk anything going wrong. Besides, Lucian had a few more terms to work out before the two could part ways.

  Kristopher was conscious of being in blackness but wasn’t able to make anything out beyond that. There were voices and he knew he wasn’t alone but he was in an entirely different state of being. Lucian was right, it took some adjusting. He wondered what would happen if he was stuck here forever. While he thought that idea should scare him, he was really just worried about the boredom. There was nothing to do here, there wasn’t even a body attached to him he could use to move around, at least not one Kristopher could feel. It would be an eternity of boredom. The longer he thought about the possibility the slower time seemed to pass. There was no way to tell but it felt like he’d been there for hours. It was both frustrating and frightening. Kristopher had the idea there was some kind of creature just beyond what he could see, so he spent some time trying to connect with it. Reaching out with whatever mental powers he could muster, Kristopher tried to see what was going on just behind the veil. Something was there but it kept pushing him back, like he was being held down somewhere and blind
folded. For a second Kristopher thought maybe that was what happened, but that wouldn’t explain the feeling of not having a body. Unless he was drugged. He wouldn’t put it past Lucian to use elaborate hoaxes and drugs, plenty of men had done it before him. It seemed like a waste of time though.

  Real or not, the only option Kristopher had now was to wait it out. Now, to find something to pass the time, or pass the absence of time. It was tempting to think about the things he could do once he got back to a reality he understood. Maybe that was what hell was like, being able to dream and plot with the knowledge you’ll never be able to do anything again. No wonder this drove people crazy. Kristopher was fairly confident he’d be getting back and unless he wanted to make this a permanent state of being he’d have to kill again. The next target. There was something he could dwell on for a while. He didn’t want to kill faceless nothings forever. He wanted to make a statement, prove he was running the show. Especially to Lucian’s lackeys. The older ones weren’t going to trade alliances, which was a shame. They were the ones he’d really need. The younger ones would be more easily swayed, especially with the right combination of money and flash. If Lucian would give him a few to work with he could carry out a plan to turn the rest. Lucian could never know, obviously, it wouldn’t help his cause to make any enemies yet. He needed something that would shake the man if Kristopher needed him to be shaken.

  He could kill Miriel.

  Preserve the body.

  Lucian could be kept in line with that.

  The black veil broke.

  “Welcome back.” Lucian held out a hand to help Kristopher off the floor. His welcome had about as much enthusiasm as a tour guide on ‘bring your obnoxious kid to the museum with a sugar high and sticky fingers’ day.

  “Thanks.” Kristopher had to blink several times before his eyes were able to adjust.

  “Coffee?”

  Kristopher nodded.

  “Feeling alright?”

  Kristopher nodded again.

  “No sudden urges to jump off a bridge or kill every living thing in sight?” Lucian sounded much too chipper for the actual gravity of the question.

  “Not yet.”

  “Good. Anything brought on by the ritual would be immediate. Everything from now on is all you.”

  “How encouraging.” Kristopher rolled his eyes, not totally in bad spirits.

  “You’ll need to sleep under supervision tonight. I’ll talk to you again tomorrow morning.” Lucian gestured to an acolyte trying not to fall asleep in the corner.

  “How long?”

  “Twelve hours. We had to hide you in the kitchen during the school day. You took to it well. That’s a fairly quick turn around.”

  “You said it would only take ten minutes.”

  “Well, that’s almost never true for the first time. You should be proud you woke up at all. Sometimes it doesn’t take.”

  “I need five of your men. We can talk more business when there’s an opportunity to act on it, if that’s fine with you. Since I’ve had such a near permanent death experience I’d like to know my protection is taken care of in the future.”

  Lucian nodded. He was eager to get Kristopher out of his way, have things back to normal. Maybe even track down Miriel’s new hideout. No reason to drag things out any longer than necessary. “They’ll be waiting for you here when you wake up.”

  “Make sure they know whose orders they’re listening to now.” It was a challenge.

  “Of course.” Lucian’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll let them know who they’re being rented to.”

  The acolyte brought over a cot and helped Kristopher onto it. He closed his eyes, only a matter of time and Lucian wouldn’t be able to speak to him like that again. For the time being, he conceded. When Kristopher was finally asleep someone rolled him off into a supply closest so he wouldn’t be in the way for the next meeting.

  This meeting was taking place in the early afternoon and was for the youngest members of the cult. Lucian stood in front of about thirty wide-eyed acolytes and watched them. A select few were still clinging to whatever innocence they had when they’d entered Lucian’s program, but most of them had given that up in exchange for the power to raise the dead.

  “I need three volunteers.” Lucian looked around, trying to decide who would be both loyal to him and not a huge loss if Kristopher let them get killed. He had no intention of giving Kristopher five of his young members. The politician should be happy he was getting anyone from Lucian’s cult after such an obvious power play.

  Most of the acolytes stared at the floor like they were avoiding a difficult question in school, worried what Lucian might be asking them to volunteer for. Several meekly raised their hands in the hope it would get them some bonus points with Lucian, but he overlooked these few faster than any of the others. Finally Lucian found a group of boys who seemed to be exactly what he was looking for. The three boys had come to him together and stuck close to each other throughout their training. They were still in the basic stages of their lessons, but they were dedicated. Perfect. They were close enough to each other Kristopher wouldn’t be able to gain their confidence easily and would always be just a little left out. If, for some reason, Kristopher did lure them away, none of them knew enough to be a loss.

  “Names?” Lucian asked as he walked over to them.

  “Robert, Alex, and Thomas.” The oldest of the three spoke up first, obviously the spokesman of the group. The younger two nodded in agreement.

  “Come with me. The rest of you wait for the rest of our group to get here. Get to know each other. Find something to do. Don’t set anything on fire if you can’t put it out.”

  The mood lightened after Lucian walked out into the hall and whispered chatter began to run around the room. Every few seconds someone would turn and face the door to see if their peers were going to come back. Outside in the hall Lucian was trying to decide if there was anywhere private to talk. They could only lease the gym for ‘meetings’ and the rest of the building had a slow trickle of janitors, teachers working late, and forgetful students in disheveled uniforms coming to pick up forgotten books. Finally Lucian gave up and pulled the three boys around him in a corner semi-covered by a thirty-year-old trophy case.

  “Hey, look, they were state basketball champs in the ‘90s.”

  “Dude.” Thomas elbowed Alexander in the ribs and Robert just looked at Lucian and shrugged. As far as Lucian was concerned they were all young, too young, it seemed sometimes.

  “I need you three to help me with something. With Kristopher.”

  “I knew we couldn’t really trust him,” Robert muttered to himself, a gleam of pride in his eye as he looked at Lucian. “What do we need to do?”

  “I need you to keep an eye on Kristopher without letting him know I trust you enough to ask you to.”

  Alexander and Thomas exchanged a look and Robert narrowed his eyes.

  “You want us to act incompetent.” This time it was Alexander who spoke up and any admiration he had for Lucian disappeared in the tone of his voice.

  “Yes.” Lucian didn’t apologize or make any excuses. He wanted the boys to figure it out for themselves, partly because he was a good teacher and partly because if they couldn’t figure it out he’d have to find a new trio to do the job.

  “If Kristopher thinks we’re idiots he’ll just think Lucian gave him leftovers, not that Lucian considers him enough of a threat to send spies or that he would be naïve enough to send acolytes who might be corrupted for Kristopher’s personal help.” It was Thomas who answered this time. His voice was soft and he kept looking up at Lucian and then quickly directing his eyes back to the floor, but he had confidence in what he was saying. That impressed Lucian more than anything else the three boys had done.

  “I guess that makes sense,” Alexander affirmed but his faith in Lucian was not quite restored.

  Robert just nodded.

  “Good.” Lucian shook each one’s hand. He wasn’t sure why, it jus
t seemed to make sense. It made things more official somehow.

  The three boys walked back into the gym and took their seats again, feeling proud but not about to risk showing it.

  “Hey.” Thomas nudged Alexander who did the same to Robert and then the three leaned in together, blocking out close ears. “Just in case. We look out for each other first.” Alexander and Robert nodded their agreement. It was something Lucian hadn’t counted on, the trio was so close knit they wouldn’t even be loyal to Lucian if it were necessary to save one of their friends.

  7. Miriel and Kristopher

  It had barely been a day and Miriel already had the feel she was being followed. She wasn’t worried. Actually, she was relieved. About a mile outside the last trace of urbanization she was ready to go back and take whatever Lucian offered. If he came to her it would make things easier, not to mention the trip back would be a lot more entertaining. She’d never been able to sense Lucian tracking her before and that made her nervous. Something about this was different. Different usually wasn’t good. There were shadows everywhere but whenever Miriel turned nothing was there. It felt like being tracked by a very lucky amateur. She had no reason to suspect anyone other than Lucian would be tracking her, so Miriel tried not to spend too much time worrying. Miriel even decided to camp out as the sun was setting, to give Lucian a chance to catch up and say what he needed to say. They’d probably fight things out halfheartedly, but Miriel was convinced she’d be sleeping in her own bed and getting back to work by this time tomorrow. It never occurred to her she could be being tracked by anyone else.