Scenting Hallowed Blood (30 page)

Once in the room, Lily wished
she hadn’t suggested sleeping with Owen. He was still sitting
upright in the bed, staring at the door, clearly not seeing
anything at all. Two lamps burned dimly in the room, and Owen’s
skin seemed shockingly white against the darkness of the wooden
headboard.

Salamiel, perhaps sensing
Lily’s feelings and deciding she needed to be punished in some way,
said goodnight curtly and left the room. Lily stood against the
carved panels of the door, looking at her brother. She could not
bear the thought of lying beside him, while he sat there staring.
Yet it would be worse if he made some movement or looked at her.
Owen was not himself any more. She dreaded to think what he might
be.

There was a wide window-seat,
upholstered as a couch, and it was here that Lily spent the night.
She removed the thick top quilt from the bed, her stomach turning
over as Owen’s dead white hands moved bonelessly against it, and
wrapped herself up in it, fully dressed. She could not face turning
out the lights, but shuffled over to the window-seat and lay down.
The wind howled close to her ear, and she was afraid that if she
paid too much attention she would hear words in it. She pulled the
quilt over her head, creating a hot but uncomfortable nest for
herself. Then she started having disturbing thoughts about how, now
that her head was covered, Owen had turned his face towards her,
his eyes burning. He had become the creature that had raped Daniel
at the High Place and was getting out of the bed, padding towards
her on silent feet, getting ready to rip the quilt from her back
and... She threw back the quilt and looked at Owen in terror, but
he hadn’t moved. Her sleep, that night, was fragmented, and
tortured by fleeting nightmares.

Daniel wrote a note for Shem in the
afternoon of the third day. Austin delivered it to Shem’s room, and
waited to see if there would be a reply. Shem laughed as he read
the note, and shook his head. ‘No reply. I don’t believe one is
needed.’ The note consisted of two short sentences. ‘2.26 a.m. Be
awake.’

Shem did not eat after two in
the afternoon. When night fell, he moved all the furniture in his
room out to the edges and created a circle for himself in the
centre. Austin had brought him two packets of white candles and two
dozen candlesticks. ‘Tonight, I have a visitor,’ Shem explained. ‘I
want romantic light.’ He did not think it would be a good idea to
advertise to Enniel that he planned some magical work. After Austin
had left, Shem ran himself a bath, to which he added a palmful of
salt from the cellar on his supper tray. After bathing, he dried
his hair and dressed himself in a loose towelling robe. Then he
arranged the candlesticks around the room. They were all of
different shapes and sizes, made of glass and wood and metal. Some
were very ancient and had clearly been used in magical rites
before. Shem allowed himself the shivering light of a single
candle, but left the others unlit.

Daniel and he must begin work
immediately the boy arrived. First, they would have to track down
Lily and Owen. After that, Daniel would have to concentrate on what
this Sofia woman really wanted, and whether the Parzupheim had any
hidden agenda. Then, they must think about what to do next.
Tomorrow, he would put Emma out of her misery and summon her to
him, but first he had to speak to Daniel. Shem moved his untouched
supper tray onto the dressing table. Later, he might need to
eat.

The hours ticked by, each
stretched to its limit. Shem listened to the movements of the
house, the faint voices. He heard the lights click off, one by one.
People paused beyond his door, wondering. He could sense their
thoughts. One was angry, another curious, a third leaden with
sadness. He heard Emma’s breath outside, but she did not knock or
call to him. The house sensed something was to happen this night
and its tension affected its inhabitants.

At eleven o’clock, Enniel
walked into the room without knocking. Shem wished he’d been able
to lock the door, but he didn’t intend to move from the centre of
his circle when Daniel arrived.

‘What are you doing?’ Enniel
asked, his face bland.

Shem was sitting cross-legged
on the floor within the ring of unlit candles. ‘What you want me to
do.’

‘Which is?’

‘Concentrating upon my new
form, getting to know it. The day after tomorrow I shall meet with
your colleagues, if you’re agreeable.’

Enniel’s face softened. ‘That
is good news. I shall call them tonight.’

‘Now, if you would leave me in
peace. I need solitude.’

Enniel nodded, began to walk to
the door, then paused. ‘I hear you are expecting a visitor.’

Shem smiled. ‘Yes. My vizier,
Daniel. We work together.’

Enniel smirked a little. ‘I
see. Well, I’ll leave you to it then.’

Shem exhaled a sigh of relief.
Why were these people so easy to fool?

At 2.15, Shem pressed his
fingers against his temples. He felt an ache behind his eyes; the
last thing he needed. He got up and lit the candles, then composed
himself once more within the circle. A digital clock on the table
beside the door, which earlier he’d synchronised with the speaking
clock on the telephone, flicked away the seconds in red light.
I
will give him what he wants,
Shem thought.
His unconscious
desires. The urge to fly. It must happen now.

He glanced at the clock. 2.27.
He felt as if all the clocks in all the world stopped at that very
moment. Would Daniel dare not to come to him?

In her bed, Aninka tossed and
groaned. Her sleeping body kicked back the duvet, for she was too
hot, yet her sweat cooled immediately in the freezing air.

Further down the corridor, Emma
sat before her own candle. Something was happening; she sensed it.
Something was approaching fast.

Taziel and Lahash sat in
Lahash’s room playing cards and drinking a bottle of brandy. Taziel
was very drunk and kept losing. Lahash watched him carefully,
wishing he was the kind of person who could get Taziel to talk
about his problems.

Daniel sat in his own room,
looking at the clock. At 2.30, he thought he’d let Shem suffer
enough and got up.

The house held its breath.

Shem was frozen, his watering,
unblinking eyes fixed on the clock. He faced the door.

Outside, Daniel pressed his
hands against the wooden panels. He tried to think of what he would
say when he went through the door.
Be in control. Be his equal.
Don’t let him bully you.
He had no idea, really, what Shem
would ask of him. He was afraid to go in, but found he had opened
the door without thinking. The room was a blaze of candlelight.

Shem saw a stranger in the
doorway. Daniel was harder, wiser, older. The clock flicked on to
2.32. Shem felt a finger of foreboding touch his heart, for he
could see that time had already passed for Daniel. Age. Humanity.
Brief candles.

For a moment, they stared at
one another like hostile cats, then Daniel came to stand at the
edge of the circle. Shem wanted to scold him and then get down to
work. He wanted to appear business-like and cool. But the sight of
this slim, confident young man, with his dark, shadowed eyes and
serious face destroyed all his plans. He simply said, ‘Daniel, fly
with me.’

And Daniel stepped into the
circle.

Like Shem, Daniel had had a
barrage of clever words to say, but none of them seemed relevant
now. This was not the broken man who’d lounged around the Assembly
Rooms. This was Peverel Othman, with all his poise and power,
reborn, renewed. There was no dark taint to him now. How had it
happened? ‘You can teach me to fly?’ he said.

Shem nodded. ‘Yes.’

At first, Daniel thought that
this was a game of words, something he was used to. Then he
realised it wasn’t. His heart said, ‘
Crawl into his arms
,’
and his mind objected, ‘
Wait
,’ but Daniel had already sunk
down into Shem’s lap and put his arms around his neck. Shem felt
warm, alive and smelled of soap.

Angel, demon, man, ghost: what
are you?

Shem enfolded Daniel in his
arms and rocked him like a child. He uttered a low, monotonous
groan, as if in pain, then words spilled out of him like blood.

‘Daniel, it is lonely, so
empty. I am burning. I am cold. I can’t contain all the things that
I am inside. It is bursting out. Take it from me. Daniel, pour your
light into me. Make me feel, bring me faith. Heal me. Be one with
me. Banish my eternal void. Give unto me your wisdom, as you always
have. I will listen with humility. Take from me the burden of
salvation. Still for me the endless procession of spinning stars
and unfold for me the path of my destiny, but please walk with me
along the way.’

Daniel looked up into Shem’s
face. ‘Give me the knowledge.’ The words came unbidden to his
lips.

Shem stroked the hair from
Daniel’s brow. ‘Ah, how young you are, how beautiful. I can’t bear
to think of what will happen to you. I can’t bear the thought of
watching you wither.’

‘Give me the knowledge,’ Daniel
repeated. ‘How can I walk beside you without the fruit of eternal
knowledge within me?’

Shem kissed his hair, rocked
him in his lap. ‘
She
said those words to me,’ he whispered.
‘And I gave her the knowledge, all that was forbidden to her race.
But what good came of it?’ He closed his eyes, and tears leaked out
between his lashes to fall onto Daniel’s face.

‘Look at me,’ Daniel said.

‘I cannot. All I see is the
future.’ Shem opened his eyes. ‘We have given the curse of
longevity to those who have worked for us, but it is a corrupting
force. I could give you that, Daniel, but it would ruin you.’

‘You said I could learn to
fly.’

‘It is not the same. You are
asking for the fruit of the tree, but you ask in ignorance.’

Slowly, the realisation of what
this exchange was about became clear in Daniel’s mind. He could be
like Emma, his life extended. But he knew that the dissolution,
when it came, could be worse than any natural ageing. Shem was
putting the request into Daniel’s mouth, but it was his own idea.
He had not thought about it until Daniel walked into the room. He
had seen Daniel older and wiser and he had begun to be afraid. He
feared he could not survive in this world without his vizier, and
inevitably, because Daniel was human, he would eventually forsake
his master for the hand of death.

‘I will sacrifice my mortality
for you,’ Daniel said. ‘If that is what you want.’
You impart
the gift,
he thought,
yet it seems the other way
around.

‘It will not be long enough,’
Shem said, then sighed, ‘but scant time is better than none. I want
you, Daniel, to be with me. Taste the fatal apple; I have held it
for eternity. It is humanity’s curse, but if you want the
knowledge, you can’t avoid plucking the forbidden fruit.’

‘Give it to me,’ Daniel
said.

There was a pause. ‘Are you
sure?’

‘Yes.’ Daniel had no idea what
to expect. He knew vaguely that Grigori could summon a kind of
etheric force from their bodies, which when supped or otherwise
absorbed by human flesh, bequeathed the longevity.

‘You are so fragile,’ Shem
said. His eyes were glowing as if he looked upon moonlit water.
There was a shift of light within them.

‘I am not a child,’ Daniel
answered. ‘I am strong enough to withstand whatever happens.

Shem’s brow was creased. He
looked unsure. Then, as Daniel watched, the frown smoothed itself
away. The light became steady in Shem’s eyes, but harder, a smoking
blue. A shred of unease entered Daniel’s mind.

In a sudden movement, Shem
dropped Daniel’s body, but almost immediately his hands shot out
and gripped Daniel’s head. He pulled Daniel upwards, stretching his
neck painfully. Still holding his face in the vice of his fingers,
Shem kissed him deeply. Daniel knew this was not part of the
process, but something Shem felt he had to do. Perhaps a
benediction or a protection. Then he let Daniel fall back onto the
floor. He hung over the boy, a stooped, carnivorous shadow. Daniel
felt a sudden surge of alarm. What had he agreed to? Shem no longer
looked remotely human. He had become Shemyaza, the Hanged One, full
of bitterness and fire. His eyes had become vaporous orbs, burning
with intense blue light, and his features were dark and indistinct.
His pale hair glowed like the reflection of moonlight on virgin
snow, moving languorously around his shoulders as if lifted by a
breeze.

Daniel scrabbled backwards,
still on his back.
This is the truth of it. They look like us,
but they are not. No sight for human eyes!

Shemyaza took off his robe. His
body was corded with taut muscle, which seemed to writhe like
serpents beneath his skin.

‘No!’ Daniel was terrified
now.

Shemyaza lunged forward and
gripped Daniel’s face between his hands again. His voice was low
and booming. ‘You must trust me, for you will experience intense
pain.’

‘No!’ Daniel tried to escape,
but his neck felt as if it would break.

‘There is no going back. You
have signed the contract with your will and your desire.’ Shemyaza,
fallen angel; he seemed to be eight feet tall with the pale hair
whipping around his shoulders. He snarled like a demon, and ripped
Daniel’s clothes from his body. The fabric tore into Daniel’s
flesh, skinned the back of his neck, his hips. Shemyaza reared up,
Daniel dangling helplessly from his armpits between the powerful
hands.

‘This is what you asked for,’
Shemyaza said. His face was like an enormous grotesque mask before
Daniel’s stinging eyes. Daniel could not look away. ‘I came to you
as a shower of gold, yet you asked to see my true face. Now you see
it. Are you dying, Daniel? Are you burning up?’