I turned my attention to Aurora.
“This one was my own,” she said without even looking up.
“She is magnificent, Aurora.”
“You have met her before.”
“I have?”
“Yes, outside Hvit.”
“She looks so different now.”
“Out of place.”
“Yes, out of place.”
“She is called Nordvind, my companion since a pup. She could have traced me to the ends of the earth and almost did.” Aurora wept into the wolf's luxuriant fur as its breaths became shallower. “She was as incapable of obeying me as my brothers were of she that set the pack upon us.”
“Your mother?”
“Yes,” a terse reply.
“I am sorry, Aurora.”
“It is too late for sorry.”
“Yes,” I replied not knowing what else to say. Instead, I sat on the ground by her side and looked into the faltering eyes of the beast she tended to. “Nordvind,” I whispered. “You are as beautiful as your mistress.” But the words had barely left my mouth when the she-wolf's chest heaved one last time.
“Was beautiful,” Aurora said, as her tears flowed like the Arctic Ocean they stemmed from.
There was something innately wrong about seeing one so beautiful as she stricken by grief. If there was a realm beyond our own, a place beyond the dark curtains of eternity, then I hoped it not populated by angels as sad as she, for my long-lost soul could not have borne it.
“We must bury her, Jean. I cannot, no, will not, allow other predators to feast upon her flesh.”
“Do we have time?” I returned without due care.
Aurora locked me with her piercing blue eyes and replied, “We make time.”
I was not about to argue.
* * *
Aurora and I dug the hole with our bare hands, the dead ground no match for our steel talons. The little monks tried their best to assist us even though I begged them to rest and save their energies. Only when we reached a depth sufficient to accommodate every wolf's carcass did the monks ask if we might make it deeper so they could bury their own with the animals. I thought it sick; they thought it fate.
When we had finished and refilled the makeshift grave the monks stood around its perimeter and chanted words of kindness to all those lost souls. In the eyes of the monks all were equal, and I felt shame at my prior indignation. Aurora joined them holding the hands of two shaven-haired Sunyins in solemn respect, whilst I stood quietly to one side.
I pitied them in a way the old me never would. Yet, through it all, all that loss, all the loved ones mourned, I thought only of Linka. How I yearned to be with her again. How I wished I could have turned back time and done things differently. But I couldn't. And despite all the sadness, all the pain that overflowed from that small clearing, I felt only anger, it consumed me.
The monks' ceremony went on too long for my liking, but I kept my thoughts to myself. Instead, I continued my vigil, rolling stones beneath my boots, as Eternal and human mourned together in harmony. What had happened all those many millennia ago to upset such a perfect balance? Then I remembered: blood.
I presumed the sun heard my thoughts for at that moment it deigned to reveal itself from behind its cumulous covers casting a haze of ruby light over the proceedings. It was odd to look up to that which I'd wished to see for so long with nothing but hatred. I might even have said I despised it.
A strange buzzing sound drew me from my introversion. Like a demented insect, the noise persisted with ferocious urgency. It was a sound I recognised but couldn't place. Not until a polite nod of the head signalled Aurora's release from the chanting circle did I realise its source. She glided over, once more herself, reached into her robes and passed me the offending object. The moment she did, it ceased its infernal racket, as if awaiting my words.
“This is not a good time, Merryweather,” I growled in complaint. There was no answer, so I gave the thing a shake and tried again. “Walter, can you hear me?” Again, silence, all except a slight rasping, which I put down to interference. I cast Aurora a perplexed look. The Nordic remained impassive.
“Bonjour,” a single, sleepy reply that cut through the silence like the licking of blood from one's lips after a feast. “Do you hear me, Jean? Are you not pleased to hear from your one true love?”
“You were never my love,” I bit back.
“Non! I thought I wassss,” she scraped. “Your losssss.”
“Where's Merryweather?” I growled, unable to contain the animosity that swelled from within.
“How wassss my husband?” she asked ignoring my question.
“He…was,” my reply.
“Ah, so you killed him.”
“You killed him, I just helped hurry him along.”
“Jean, Jean, Jean,” she purred, the voice of death. “Alwayssss so heroic. Alwayssss so predictable. Alwayssss so…you,” she settled on.
“I'll remember that when I rip your heart from your chest and crush it into black powder. If I can find it that is.”
“Non, you were doing so well. Why must you alwayssss resort to violence? Life is too precioussss to waste on anger, surely you would have learnt that after your parentssss' death.”
Before I could vent my fury upon Chantelle, Aurora snatched the communication device from my hand. She held the thing in her palm and spoke with a chill that rivalled Chantelle's own.
“I am Princess Aurora of the Nordic clan.” There was a silence at that, and I wondered what played through Chantelle's warped mind. “Your reticence says you know of me.”
“I do now, madame,” Chantelle replied. “I thought the Nordicssss a myth until they arrived at my wedding.”
The twitch I gave told Aurora what my lips were unable to communicate.
“Then, it was not you that requested our presence?”
A something not unlike the last choking breaths of a perforated larynx echoed across the clearing. Chantelle laughed, whilst I almost baulked.
“Why would I seek the likessss of you? Only Duke Gorgon wassss supposed to attend, bald-headed ignoramussss that he issss. Hissss signature would've made the wedding legal in the eyessss of the other Hierarchy memberssss, not that I needed it. But, you came, or your kind did to be exact. I wonder why you did not, dearest Aurora?”
Aurora flushed a tint of blue, but held her tongue with a self-restraint I envied.
“I believe Jean asked where Walter was but did not receive a reply. I would like to hear that question answered.”
“Please,” hissed Chantelle.
“If you please,” Aurora responded.
“Ah, you ask so nicely, how can I refuse so divine a request. In answer, Sir Walter ran away.”
“Ran away!” Aurora snapped.
“Yessss. He is an expert at it. Walter hassss been running away for yearssss and yearssss and yearssss. He dropped thissss in hissss hurry to escape.”
“Did you harm him?”
“Is that concern I hear?”
“Did you harm him?”
A glacier cracked asunder, Aurora's voice containing all the forces of her homeland. I felt the intake of Chantelle's breath just as I did my own.
“No,” came the eventual reply.
“That is fortunate for you,” Aurora replied coolly.
“And unfortunate for him. He has fled into the day assss I and my compatriotssss have returned to the eternal rest of our dark coffinssss. I imagine Walter will be nought but ash by now. Perhapssss, it is for the best, he wasn't very good for anything other than annoying Jean. I only wish I'd had a chance to bid him bonne journée.”
There was a pause in the conversation as the two women weighed each other up. I thought the device Aurora held might crack and break such was her intensity. I offered my palm to her then; she tipped the communicator in as if it deceased.
“Chantelle.”
“Ah, Jean, you could not stay away. I'm glad, I dislike that girl. I prefer to
talk to you. If only you were here with me, I do so tire. We could hold each other assss we once did.”
“I would love to hold you, too.”
“Really?”
“How else could I be certain I'd killed you?”
“You cannot kill me, silly boy, you have already tried so hard.”
“I can always try harder.”
“Alassss you will never get the chance. It wassss not meant to be. Now, we must sleep. We have thingssss to plan, placessss to go, people to kill.”
“We?”
“Yessss, we.”
“Might I ask who that encompasses?”
“How could I refuse so polite a request?”
“Indeed,” I replied trying very hard to keep a lid on my volatile emotions. Chantelle appeared not to notice as she blathered on.
“There is, of course, the Marquissss.”
“Of course,” I concurred.
“It appearssss he requiressss the other Sunyinssss' blood rather more than he first presumed. The one you left behind doesn't seem up to much, an aged and poor specimen. He doessss have a nose for his kin, though, and that'ssss all that really matterssss. The changessss to the landscape have hampered thingssss, but we shall soon pick up the scent once more.”
“Then, that was not your doing?” The thought had been going around my mind, so I thought I might as well just ask it. Chantelle seemed so much more direct than she used to, less guarded in her decrepit shell.
“Oh, Jean, my once love, you know so little. I would love to take you in my armssss and comfort your innocence away.”
The accompanying sound as of broken bellows did nothing to lessen my disgust for the woman. However, I had another question ticked off my list, so she could hiss and huff all she wanted.
“Then, there is your brother-in-law, the tanned and handsome Raphael. How issss Alba by the way?”
I slammed the speaking device down so hard it shattered into tiny, metal pieces. Aurora looked on with the expression of an exasperated mother.
“Sorry, I couldn't help myself, it was the next best thing to her head.”
“So, what now?”
“Choices,” I cogitated.
“We have choices?”
“Possibly,” I said in a sudden burst of inspiration.
Aurora arced a sculptured eyebrow, as was her way.
“Sunyin,” I called to the little monk, who had kept a polite distance during our conversation.
“Yes, Jean.”
“Why were you heading north?”
“We searched for you.”
“How did you know I was there?”
“We sensed it.”
“But I left almost a week ago.”
“You shall return.”
“Really?”
“North is where both our destinies lie.”
“If you can sense such things, why did you not seek out your own and Shangri-La? In my opinion, that would be your safest and most logical retreat.”
“We know precisely where Shangri-La resides, but that is not what we wish.”
“Why, Sunyin, what do you wish for?”
“We wish to be reunited with our brothers and through them our father. We wish for the family we have never had. We wish to be complete.”
“So why come to me?”
Sunyin looked between Aurora and I, then set me with such a look of calm intensity, I almost fell off my rock.
“Because you are the only one who can help us, Jean. You are the only one who ever has. We know our destiny to be intertwined with your own, it is our shared fate.”
“But, I'm just an ordinary man, nothing more, nothing less. I have no army, no way of doing what you wish of me.”
Sunyin shuffled over to stand before me, his feet pitter-pattering in the loose sands. He came to rest a few feet before me, smiled a smile of such contentment the like of which I knew I should never smile myself, and spoke.
“You are so much more than you know, my friend. Before long you will realise what we have known since first we met you.”
“And what is that, Sunyin?” I huffed, shaking my head with frustration.
“That when the time comes, when the sun bleeds into the horizon and all is cold, when the world as we know it ends and time resets, you will be the one left standing; you will set things right.”
“You have great confidence in a man who seems to be a master of only one trait.”
“And that is?” Sunyin's unblinking eyes moved a little closer to my own.
“To kill. I am a killer, and that is all I know.”
“No, my friend, you are so very wrong.” Sunyin placed his hand upon my head and I felt a sensation that was un-cold, something I should never have felt. “It is not your mastery of death that will save us, but the desire to overcome it through love. No force is more powerful than love, Jean. Nothing.”
Sunyin removed his hand only for the sensation to diminish leaving me once more the cold Eternal I had always been. He stepped away, his residual kindness ebbing with each footfall, then looked back once more.
“In answer to the questions you would ask, yes, we can sense where our brothers are, and our father.”
“And where is that, Sunyin.”
“Why, North, of course.”
Sunyin gave a polite bow, then moved off to where his brothers still amassed about the communal grave. I waited for him to reach them before moving to Aurora's side.
“How does it feel to be the saviour of so many?” she asked with a renewed sparkle in her eye.
“Underwhelming,” I replied.
“You do not relish the task?”
“All I wish is to be back holding Linka in a place and world where I can do so in peace.”
“And to achieve this?” Aurora asked. “What are you going to do, Jean? What do you need from me?”
“Oh, it's simple really.”
“Really!”
“Indeed.”
“How so?”
“I need your help in killing every single person who looks to prevent it.”
“Simple as that.”
“Simple as that.”
“And what of Walter, he seems to have slipped through the cracks, yet again?”
“I fear Merryweather will have to fare for himself, for now. I suspect he will find us when he needs us.”
“Yes,” Aurora nodded. “I have that selfsame suspicion.”
“And you, Aura? I mean, Alba. I mean, Aurora. Oh, good grief, I'm a mess.”
“Aura?”
“Sorry, a slip of the tongue, I think all this disruption has affected me more than I care to admit.” No sooner had disruption slipped from my lips than I wanted to throttle myself for such a poor choice of words. Once again, Aurora chose to excuse me.
“I like it.”
“Like what?”
“Aura.”
“You do?”
“Yes.”
“Then Aura it is,” I beamed, “after all, you do gleam.” She smiled at that. “Now, you ask of others but never of yourself, so I ask you, Aura, what would a Nordic princess wish? What is it that you need?”
“As always, my friend, I wish only to follow you, if necessary, to the end of eternity and back again. My needs are your needs, nothing more, nothing less.”
Aurora touched my shoulder with a kindness I did not deserve and swept away to assist the others.
Chapter Nineteen
-
Charcoal
“Jean, might I make a suggestion?”
“Of course, Aura.”
“You need blood.”
“Do I look that bad?”
“Worse.”
“I appreciate your honesty.”
“You're welcome.”
“And, you?”
“I would prefer not to.”
“Not quite orca blood, eh,” I chuckled.
“Not quite.”
“I don't want you going all weak on me.”
“That will not
happen.”
“That was a very definite answer.”
“It is a simple fact. I owe it to Nordvind.”
“I am not sure vengeance is a dish that suits you, dear girl. Such things fester and twist, strive to rob you of that which sets you apart.”
“Which is?”
“Innocence, Aura. It is a rare gift, one I would not be so hasty to lose. I know I was and deeply regret it.”
“Innocence is a quality I was robbed of at birth.”
I didn't get a chance to respond. Aurora had thrown me a blood bag, pirouetted, her hair spiralling out in creamy waves, then glided away without my ever having chance to say thank you.
* * *
Our passage, although a simple one for Aurora and myself, proved to be far from so for the monks. Whether debilitated from the loss of six of their brothers, or even less capable of physical expenditure than I'd imagined, who knew, but their struggles were etched into the contours of their no longer calm facades. Furrowed brows clashed with grimaces of pain, shuffling steps became trips and falls, and I for one grew more and more concerned for their wellbeing. To their credit, not one complained of the pace we set, nor asked for help. The little fellows formed a line caterpillar-like, the way I saw them do from high atop Vladivar's castle walls, and shuffled ever on. They were taciturn and determined in a way I'd never been and didn't suppose I ever would.
The dismal landscape we journeyed through was unlike anything I'd seen on my travels. Death was something one became used to beyond the false boundaries that the Hierarchy built about themselves, but desolation on so sweeping a scale as in that wasteland was almost unbelievable. There was simply no life, nothing. A vista of bare rock in various sizes, from gravelled shale to black, mountainous mounds filled my vision. Not even the gnarled and twisted excuses for trees we'd past earlier lived in that world of stone. It felt like a taster of how the planet would one day be, a sorry excuse at best.
We walked for hours, the ruby sun spluttering high into a pastiche sky, a mockery of the blue it should've been. By the time the tired orb reached its pathetic zenith, the monks were little more than husks, yet still our strange group stumbled on. As usual, Aurora shone incrementally brighter as the night grew closer, first rivalling, then surpassing the day's tepid glow. The monks strove not to show it, but their fractional glances revealed how they marvelled at her. Who wouldn't have? She, in turn, marched with purpose, but one detached from ours. She brooded with a passion that rivalled my own, her malaise an infection, which I knew from experience as hard to clear. I considered approaching her several times, but somehow could never think of the right words, or so I told myself. Instead, I traipsed on, the leader of our disparate group, my mood darkening by the second.
Hunter Hunted (The Eternals Book 2) Page 17