Chương 217: Act 3, Chapter 66: Vampire’s hospitality

Day in the story: 23rd January (Friday), evening Elle Erikson"First of all, Fred," Gustavo said through his teeth, "I do not like your party tricks, nor will I tolerate them. Secondly, the 'do not kill' my God asks me to obey does not include the likes of you, who are long dead but somehow forgot about it. Is it old age? Dementia, my friend? And thirdly, I obey decorum, don't I? I have nothing to do with that asshole's death."

"I had to be sure," the vampire replied. He must have done something, because the weight of his Authority dropped noticeably. It felt like the entire room let out a breath at once.

"It might be old age, indeed," he added, glancing briefly at me and Laurent before returning his gaze to Gustavo.

"Why are we here? It could not have been just an interrogation attempt," Gustavo asked, taking another sip straight from the bottle.

"No. That is not it. Come closer to the table," Frederic said, gesturing toward a model displayed near one of the corners of the hall.

"What is that?" I asked, stepping closer, quietly relieved that I was not the focus of this questioning. The model looked like a cross between a maze and an ant nest.

"It is a map of the catacombs," Laurent said.

"Yes, it is." The vampire lord flicked his wrist at a server who had just entered carrying what looked like an empty platter. Only when she came closer did I notice the old framed photograph resting on it. Frederic picked it up, smiling. It showed him and another man. Both striking. Standing close, looking into each other's eyes.

"I will return to this in a moment. But this… this is a true masterpiece. Made by your dearly departed father, Master Laurent. He managed to capture us when every other device failed." He held it with a kind of reverence reserved for the most precious things.

"You cannot have pictures taken?" I asked.

"No, my dear. The universe, or Reality, or perhaps even Abraham's God of my dear friend, took it upon themselves to remind my kind that we are no longer welcome. We do not reflect in mirrors, nor appear in photographs. Try it yourself, if you have a phone." He passed the picture to Bastien.

"It's amazing. I can feel the Authority inside it resonating with my own. It's really powerful," Bastien said. I took out my phone and opened the camera, pointing it straight at where the vampire stood. Instead of him, all I saw were his clothes, hovering in the air and moving along with his gestures. I still took the photo, just to check. It showed the same thing.

"It had to be that way. Your father used his Connection Authority to bind our essence to the image. Do you perhaps already possess access to that particular mark?" Frederic asked. I started wondering if that was what allowed Laurent to teleport, like I could. I had seen him do it, but he never mentioned it when speaking about his powers.

"No. Not yet. Editing, Freedom, and Chains resonated with me more." The vampire sighed audibly.

"If you would be so inclined, please inform me when that Connection opens for you. I would love to have another, more recent picture taken."

"Of course. I hope my expedition will allow me to grow stronger."

"That foolish prospect," Frederic said, "is exactly why I invited you here."

"Why is it foolish?"

"Rollo died in there, my dear boy. Rolf the Walker. If something inside was powerful enough to get him, then the likes of you will be of no significance."

"Are you speaking of your consort as well?" Gustavo asked.

"Yes. But he did not go in to hunt for treasures. He went to save the fools who did, from the effects of their own lust. You should applaud that effort, my friend."

"Maybe I will."

"You better." He turned back to Laurent.

"And after Rollo's death, it will be even more dangerous in there. The lower levels were already riddled with dying Domains, and now with Rou's, this might be one of the most dangerous Nexuses in the world."

"Nexus?" I asked.

"You have never heard of them, my dear?" the vampire turned to me.

"No, I have. But if I understood correctly, a powerful mage died in a splinter, right?" He nodded.

"And you are saying his Domain was somehow anchored there? How? Wouldn't it stay where he considered home?"

"That is sometimes the case, Elle. Nexuses are like dark stars at the center of galaxies. When the mass of Domains reaches a certain point, they begin pulling others in. Those smaller worlds cannot escape anymore." He moved his hand slightly over the model.

"You are asking how they pull Domains in, if the mage did not bring them there, yes?" I nodded.

"If a Domain is passed on and well established through generations, it survives the death of its owner and remains where it was placed, like any other splinter. But each mage carries a connection to their Domain through the shadow they embedded in the crystal. When they die in another splinter, the weaker Domain can be pulled toward a stronger one through that link." Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. His finger traced unseen paths across the model.

"Part of that original Domain is dragged into the forming Nexus. If the mage was the sole owner of that Domain, and the Nexus is powerful enough, it may pull the entire thing away from its anchor. Tear it loose completely. And the mage we are speaking of… a 'God,' as he called himself… was so self-absorbed that he never allowed anyone into his Domain."

"You think Rollo's Domain would be in there? He might have been strong enough to resist the pull," Gustavo said, suddenly more serious, arms crossed, one hand still gripping the neck of the bottle.

"I am certain of it, my friend. If he had enough power to resist, he would not have died, would he?"

"Excuse my ignorance," I said, stepping closer to the model.

"But can someone explain what is actually going on here? I am trying to piece it together, but I am still missing parts." Laurent handed the photograph back to the vampire as I spoke.

"On the night of New Year's Eve, my vampire friend wasn't the only one that died. A mage so powerful many considered him a god went into the Catacombs below Paris in the Shadow World to pillage and test his strength, but unfortunately he died in there. This resulted in a rush of people who, like me, assumed that his Domain would be part of the Nexus that exists there, and as such his soul core would be there for the taking, along with all the essence it gathered over a millennium.

Not to mention the artifacts he brought there with him, and all the other things that were already in that Nexus."

"Gold rush," Laurent mused, looking at me with apologetic eyes.

"And that's where you want to go?" I asked him, hoping that this might make him consider including me as well.

"Yes. Me and my friends trained to become a team of soul mark hunters, and this is an opportunity like no other."

"You are all young and hasty to reach new heights," the vampire said.

"But rushing for that power is what leads to demise. It was dangerous before, very much so, and it is a death sentence now—with so many other groups in there, and Rollo's Domain."

"What was it? That Domain?" I asked.

"Rollo was a viking once. Came here on a boat and conquered everything. Became a king. He cherished conquest, pillaging, brutality and rape so much that violence became his power."

"He was known as the Flaming Wolfman," Laurent said with reverence.

"That Domain of violence he held made him a walking Ragnarok, he believed in it so much."

"I can see how that in particular might be dangerous," I replied.

"Are you planning on venturing in there, my dear?" the vampire asked me directly, turning toward me in a very calm manner, his hand in the air, fingers as if feeling an invisible thread.

"It feels like destiny," I played to a familiar tune, hoping he would hear it that way as well.

"Me finding myself here at the right time, hearing about it from someone like you, while my friend asks for permission to enter. But unfortunately I am alone, and have no power to do this on my own."

"It is for the better. My dear beloved—""We know, he went in to save others, such as her," Gustavo interrupted him.

"Save us the preaching and sentimentality."

"Will you be going to hunt for him?"

"Wouldn't you like to know?" The two friends kept arguing, while Laurent focused on the model in front of us, making a decision in his mind.

"I can take you, Elle," he said finally, looking back up at me.

"It does feel like fate, and I can't turn my back on it." The vampire disapproved with pleading eyes, but he did not comment. He just looked at us sadly, as if already saying his goodbyes.

"You'd have to meet my friends first, but I think you'd fit right in. And the more of us in there, the higher the chance we make it."

"I wouldn't want to impose. We just met, and we've never fought side by side," I replied, when the doors opened and an old lady with fully grey hair pinned with silver pins walked in. She wore comfortable clothes that screamed ordinary—until someone took a closer look and noticed the fine details and remarkable craftsmanship of the tailor who made them. Her face was wrinkled, but her eyes were still full of color and sharp, as was her smile when she hobbled in, leaning on a silver cane with serpentine motifs.

"It will be fine," Laurent cut in shortly, turning toward the woman.

"Keeper of the Keys, in her own flesh. Welcome, Camille," the vampire spoke to her in perfect French.

"Frederik, Gustavo, Laurent's son… and a woman," she replied in the same language. Everyone in the room took a bow toward her, so I followed suit.

"Let the formalities be over with," she continued, coming closer and measuring me in particular with her eyes.

"How many people do you want to bring with you… Bastien?" She had to search for his name for a few seconds.

"Me and four others," he replied, but quickly straightened up, as if pulled by an invisible string, and corrected himself.

"Five others. Six, perhaps?" He looked at Gustavo, who was finishing the bottle.

"I don't know, kid. It's tempting to go after the old vampire, but I bet he'll behave down there. I think I will stay here, to keep my eyes on the others."

"Six in total, esteemed Keeper," Laurent turned back to her.

"You have my permission," she waved a hand.

"I will let the guards know tomorrow."

"Thank you," he replied, dropping to his knees and bowing deeply, forehead to the floor. She only waved her hand again.

"How many people did you let in since that Northman died, you old hag?" Gustavo asked, switching to English.

"English?" she asked, then turned to me.

"Oxford's representative?"

"No, I'm American," I replied.

"Guild's?" Her brows furrowed.

"You too are interested in this foolish attempt?"

"I am not on the Guild's behalf. I am in here just on my own." That made her even more perplexed.

"Laurent, is she going with you in there?" she asked him in French, while still looking at me.

"That's my decision, yes," he replied in his mother tongue as well.

"I hope you will not make me regret this. You know her well? She studied with you?"

"She didn't, and I just met her this week, but—""Men are stupid. It's your funeral, kid. I guess we will have the walls of the Catacombs making photos of their victims soon enough." She interrupted him, suggesting that my presence would spell his doom. I would try my best to prove her wrong.

"There is no need for that kind of behavior toward my guests, Camille," the vampire chimed in, in French as well.

"I can tolerate you unloading your frustrations onto me, but everyone else here is under my protection within the rules of Bohemian law, so behave yourself, or I will make you."

"You are talking to an archmage, vampire," she answered while Gustavo laughed at both of them. I played confused at the exchange, while Laurent grabbed my arm and pulled me slightly aside.

"It's better we take a few steps back," he whispered into my ear.

"You confuse my age for weakness, Frederik." She kept on, while her cane started glowing with pink and violet shadowlight. The vampire lord made a gesture with his hand toward her, extending his fingers forming a claw, and the light was instantly sucked into his palm—swirling there and enveloping him in a thin film of shadowlight armor, as if it had been his to begin with.

"And you confuse my hospitality and politeness for acquiescence. I will repeat only once more: decorum will be kept by all parties. Any display of superiority, earned or otherwise, will be treated as a crime against the good will of the host."

"I just spoke my mind. I feel like the boy is misplacing his trust."

"Unsubstantiated insinuations, Key Holder," the vampire replied in a stern voice.

"She has been nothing but a good guest so far. Unlike you."

"You two should fuck each other and be done with it. Or just take that wine and get drunk, right?" Gustavo interrupted.

"Can't be abstinent forever, Camille. I feel like that might not be very long for you." He measured her up and down. Those three were clearly on equal footing, because she only smiled thinly and turned away.

"I feel like tonight's proceedings should be adjourned on the basis of my lack of good humor," she said, hobbling slowly away.

"I assume you will inform the rest?"

"You assume correctly," the vampire responded, arms crossed. Gustavo bowed to us, smiling, then followed after the old lady.

"Is that a yes to the getting drunk?" he asked, placing his arm around her shoulders and waving an empty bottle. She leaned in and whispered something into his ear, making him laugh.

"If your hips can take it, then why not!" Laurent covered his face with both hands at that, and I leaned toward him.

"What was that about?" I asked, pretending not to know.

"Three people behaving badly," the vampire answered in English.

"Excuse me and my friends. Sometimes old age does not result in either wisdom nor reticence."