The Light Who Shines (37 page)

Jack Tanner: June 2, 2022, Red Ages

Ernesto and I get out of the car at Phantom Island. “The boy
was kidnapped from here. He was found in front of the Cock and Bull Tap. Half
Moon River runs from one location to the next. Blackwater can portal, so he may
not have had to use the river, but he may be anywhere along the river.”

Ernesto stands in his casual blue linen suit, his elegance
and grace belying his predatory nature. He looks up and down the river, sniffing
the air, cocking his ear to hear. He says, “Then we must search all along the
river and every building between here and the Tap to start. We should search
three houses deep on each side.”

I nod and add, “We should search every structure on the
properties, not just the houses, and listen to the ground near the structures.
We don’t know if the center point is Phantom Island or the Cock and Bull Tap,
so we need to search south of Phantom Island and north of the Cock and Bull
Tap. He can portal two to three miles, so we will need to go that far. But I
think the stretch of river between the island and the Tap holds the most
promise, so we should start there.”

Ernesto looks at me closely for a moment and says, “I know
she is very important to you, Señor.”

At his words, all the feelings that I’ve been keeping at bay
in order to function come flooding into me again. My throat thickens. I turn
away from Ernesto and try to control my emotions. Then I look him steadily in
the eyes and say simply, “She is my light, nothing more and nothing less.” I
take a deep breath and then say, “We must find her. I’ll take this side; you
take the other side of the river. We will go three miles past where it hits the
Red Wood Cemetery.”

Ernesto and I move at an impossible pace, searching up and
down the river all night. We look for tracks, scent the ground by the river,
and check the perimeter of every structure for scent or sound. We listen to the
earth. We pause only to be sure of the scents we run into. We check both sides
of the river with Ernesto on one side and me on the other.

With every unsuccessful minute that passes, I feel like I’m
ripping further in two. We must find her. We must find her. Her name swims in
my head like a beautiful chant.
Blue. Blue. Blue.
It taunts me and
tantalizes me, urging me on. When I start to feel hopeless, I think of the glow
of her beautiful light the day I held her in my arms, and I feel hope again.
That’s what she is to me. She is my light and my hope.

Bluebell Kildare: June 3, 2022, Red Ages

I wake up gasping for breath again with cold water dripping
down my face and running in rivulets between my breasts. This time, at least, I
don’t imagine that I’m drowning. Blackwater stands in front of me grinning with
an empty bucket in hand.

My shivering is uncontrollable, and I can’t tell if it’s
from the cold water, the cold air, loss of blood, or an infection setting in. I
speak through a chattering jaw, “Have you come to taunt me again?”

Blackwater sets the bucket down and stands straight up.
Clasping his hands together in front of him, he rocks back and forth on his
heels like an excited schoolboy. His thin, bony face seems almost jovial in a
perverted way. His cruel mouth twists into a semblance of a grin as he says in
a singsong voice, “Taunt is such a negative word. I like to think of it as
plucking the juicy fruits that life throws my way.” Then he leers up and down
my naked body with his gaze lingering long at my breasts. “And you are a very
juicy fruit.”

Another wave of chills runs through my body, this time for
an entirely different reason. I want to cower away, but there is nowhere to
hide. I avoid Blackwater’s gaze when it finally makes its way toward my face,
and I look beyond him instead. The firefly lantern is hanging on the wall
again, and it reminds me that I need to take advantage of the light. I tilt my
head back. That small movement causes my back to move, and pain rips through
me. I grit my teeth and pretend I’m trying to let the water run off my face.

There are several beams across the ceiling. My chains are
attached to the beams via a wide band of iron going around them. A large closed
loop is attached to each band, securing the chains. There are no bolts in
sight, so they must be on the ceiling side of the beams. My chains are made of
thick loops of iron, not soldered, but so thick it would be impossible for me
to loosen them. What I wouldn’t give for some superhuman Vampire strength right
now! The beam is supported by the rock and dirt walls, and it in turn supports
loosely fitted, rotting boards that make the ceiling. The boards keep the dirt
mostly at bay but let water through. I wonder how far underground I am. Far
enough for no screams to be heard. But how far is that? A few feet? Ten or
more? Screams. He was afraid of screams, which is why this place is underground.

I’m still pretending to shake water off my face when
suddenly I see water flying at me again. This time, because my head is tilted
up, the water goes down my nose and into my lungs. I whip my head down and curl
over, coughing and hacking to get the water out of my lungs. Pain surges over
me again with each cough because my entire body has to move. When my lungs
finally clear, I stand straight again, which comes at no small price, and glare
at Blackwater from under dripping hair. “What was that for? I’m already awake!”

Blackwater sneers, “You stink!”

“Of course I do! You’ve left me no option but to pee myself.
Leave one of your buckets by my feet and I’ll use that.”

Blackwater looks at me askance. “Do you think I am a
chambermaid to carry your slop out for you?”

I look at his fine trousers and white dress shirt with gold
cufflinks and the odd brilliance in his eye. I can sense his emotions
permeating the air. He exudes irrational fearlessness and can hardly contain
his excitement. Is his excitement about possibly getting the amulet or about
hurting me? Perhaps both. At the same time, his soul taints the room with a
cloying, black choking feeling that is twisted and unnatural. I wonder how he
can be so sick and still keep up appearances.

I retort, “Do you expect me to be alive long enough to fill
it to overflowing?”

I can see Blackwater’s dark eyes glinting as he ponders
this. I wait expectantly for the answer.

He says, “Very well then.”

I bite my lip as I now realize how limited my days are.
Should I just give him the damn amulet and try to get it back later? No, he
didn’t free Jason when Jason found the amulet for him. I am so cold, and my
back hurts so much, but my survival instincts require that I push on. I look
around the stone walled room and up into the face of Tobias Blackwater with his
maniacal demeanor and the crazy gleam in his eyes. I wonder if these are my
last days and this is my grave.

“Tell me, how were you able to use Jason to get the amulet?”

Blackwater’s eyes dance merrily and the air fills with the
waves of his madness as he answers, “Jason had the ability to amplify magic. I
can portal, and I had a very powerful scrying mirror. Very simple recipe,
really.”

I decide to try to stroke his ego to get information. He
seems bright, but he is also clearly not right in the head. “That’s very
impressive work, finding the tools to locate the amulet, especially since it
had been so carefully hidden. No doubt hundreds of powerful sorcerers have
tried to find the amulet over time. So what went wrong that Jason was able to
escape?” This is a lot to say with my body still shivering. I’m almost thankful
for the cold as it begins to have a numbing effect.

Blackwater laughs mockingly, apparently catching onto my
ruse. “He escaped in a way that you couldn’t possibly accomplish, my dear
Bluebell. He used his amplification powers to grab on to my portal magic while
I was finishing a shift, and it carried him out of here.”

I feel another nail in my coffin. I obviously can’t use
Jason’s method of escaping after all.

Blackwater’s laughter trails off, and his face turns
unnaturally dark as his mercurial mood shifts yet again. He mutters, “He was
quite a talented boy. It’s a shame because I had planned such great uses for
him.”

Then Blackwater steps up to me and raises his arm. I flinch,
but I can’t move far. I watch his eyes squint and his mouth purse in a scowl as
he hauls off and hits me. My head snaps to the right at the force of his arm.

Blood flows down my nose freely. I lift my head and look him
in the eyes. “What was that for?”

Blackwater rubs his temples like he has a headache and
frowns. “I was not happy about losing Jason.”

I feel the mood in the air shift, and Blackwater’s spirits
lift as he turns taunting again. “Your dear Vampire lover and that dago
detective that you have wrapped around your finger are looking for you.”
Blackwater laughs softly. “They aren’t even close, and because I jump here,
there is no way for them to follow me. Even that damn animal of yours can’t
sniff a trail to us. But isn’t it so good to know that your loved ones are
trying so valiantly and so uselessly to find you?”

He’s trying to hurt me. I won’t give him the satisfaction. I
say, “Yes. Thank you, Blackwater. How kind of you to let me know that I am
missed.”

Blackwater scowls and says, “Now, let’s get down to
business.”

He circles around me, pausing at my back and causing me to
flinch. He comes back to face me and says, “So, you passed out last time and I
had to stop. No enjoyment that way, certainly.” Then he starts speaking
clinically as though I am a hunk of meat. “Your back is a swollen mass of black
bruises with eleven gashes where the skin has been ripped off or split.”

He reaches behind his back for the whip and waves it in my
direction. I watch it shimmy through the air, undulating back and forth,
mesmerizing me like a snake. “Bluebell, are you ready to tell me where the amulet
is?”

Every time he asks me, I feel like I have a new chance to
tell him and get out of here. But I remind myself that there will be no getting
out of here by his hands. “Why do you want the amulet?”

Blackwater grins maniacally, making his bony cheeks and long
nose stand out, and his mood elevates again to elation. His rapidly oscillating
mood swings tell a tale of his madness louder than a herald. His voice rises to
a higher pitch, and in his sing-song voice he says, “Imagine a world where the
natural order is restored, Bluebell! Where the magically Gifted, who are now
scorned and ridiculed, rise up and take the power from mediocrity. Imagine a
world where Vampires are controlled and are no longer a threat to the magically
Gifted.”

“That is a grand dream, Blackwater. How will this happen?”

Blackwater raises his arm to me and brings it down even
harder this time. He shouts in fury, “We will make it happen!”

My neck jerks back as I feel first the shock of pain, then
the wet, thick oozing of blood that drips straight down to my mouth. I tilt my
forehead forward, hoping the blood will make it to the floor. I scream inside
my mind in frustration. I can’t even wipe my face!

Then Blackwater smiles a sickly sweet smile. “Your time is
up, Bluebell. So where is the amulet?”

I close my eyes, knowing the agony that is about to come,
but I keep in my mind’s eye the fact that my flesh and my will are all that
stands between this man and the death of millions of innocent people. I wish I
could ignore this fact, but I can’t. In my mind I see thousands of strangers,
people who I’ve passed on the street or seen in a shop. It could be any of
them, all of them. He could hurt small children, the sick, the elderly.

I open my eyes and look steadily at Blackwater as I say
softly, “What amulet?”

Blackwater’s eyes flash with savagery as he spits out, “You
intend to play that game again, do you? Well, I’m happy to oblige.”

He is angry again. I’ve lost track of how many times he has
switched between angry to gleeful in the past five minutes.

He once again walks around to my back. He says, “Let’s see
how many you can take tonight.”

I take a deep breath as questions and answers swirl in my
mind. Should I tell him? Maybe if I tell him he will set me free. No, he will
not let me live, and he will hurt so many people if he gets the chance. I can’t
do it. I’m not going to tell him.

I hear the whip move through the air, and it lands on my
back, tender, enflamed, and broken from the night before. I arch in pain.

“One!” he shouts gleefully.

He strikes again.

“Two!” This time he’s counting the lashes out loud. “Three!
Four!”

I keep thinking of where the amulet is as if that is my
salvation, but I’m so delirious with pain that I’m afraid I might accidentally
tell him. So I rip my mind away from that thought and start repeating my mantra
in my head.
What amulet? What amulet?

The whip keeps falling, and I arch with each hit. My muscles
are so swollen from the last set of lashes that each hit now ruptures muscle
cells. I can feel my muscles being pulverized.

“Five! Six! Seven!”

The whip has broken all of the scabs that formed overnight
and is now meeting raw muscle with blood flowing freely.

“Eight! Nine! Ten!”

I’m surprised I have any skin left on my back, but I can
feel pieces of skin being torn off with each lash. The pain is so great I can’t
tell where a hit lands anymore.

What amulet? What amulet?

Blackwater comes around to my front. “Where is the amulet?”
he asks.

I whisper with all the strength I have left, “What amulet?”

Blackwater purses his lips, but a tiny smile starts to lift
the corners of his mouth. Then he moves behind me again. I can feel that his
anger at me for denying him what he wants is now warring with his twisted joy
at causing me pain.

“Eleven! Twelve!”

I’m gasping for breath. My eyes are squeezed shut. My teeth
are clenched. The pain racks through me as the whip laces its course across my
back.

“Thirteen! Fourteen!”

I still fear I might shout out the location of the amulet
the next time Blackwater asks, so I keep desperately chanting my refrain in my
head:
What amulet? What amulet?
I focus on this litany until these are
the only words I can remember. The lashes keep raining down.

“Eighteen! Nineteen! Twenty! Where is the amulet?”

I hang limply from the chains like a rag doll now and
whisper, “What amulet?

So Blackwater continues. “Twenty-one! Twenty-two!”

The pain is so great my mind can scarcely understand it all.
The electric impulses ripping through my body to my brain are coming so fast my
brain can’t decipher one lash from the next.

“Twenty-seven! Twenty-eight!”

I let my sixth sense float away from my body so I can bear
the pain. I feel the filthy, cloying mass that is Blackwater’s soul, and I
instinctively draw away from him. I expand my sense in front of myself. I feel
for the small animals behind the walls and down the tunnels. They are starving,
but their souls are still bright and good. I am so weak.

“Twenty-nine! Thirty!. Where is the amulet?”

I hear the question as if coming from a dream. I feel my
physical self barely breathe out, “What amulet?”

I realize that my body hangs limp in the chains, struggling
for breath under the wrath of the whip, but my real self seems to be the part
that is exploring for light, searching for strength. I wrap myself around the
soul of a rat and hold tight, seeking comfort and fortitude in its light.

Then I sense a much greater source of light above.

“Thirty-four! Thirty-five!”

I expand through the dirt, past the surface of the ground. I
feel so thin now. My soul is weakening due to the failing body that it’s still
attached to. I’m ravenous for that light. I can’t reach it; it is so high up in
the sky. So I call to it. I beckon it with my soul.

“Fifty! Fifty-one!”

With a tiny part of my mind I realize Blackwater hasn’t
asked me about the amulet for a while. I feel a small amount of light from the
source in the sky reach down and meld with my own. I pull a little bit of that
light down into my light. I feel myself burning brighter as it strengthens me.
I don’t hear Blackwater counting anymore. He must be done.

I am loath to turn off my sixth sense because I know the
pain will be immense. But I know I must. It can’t be good for my soul to be so
separate from my body when I’m in such danger of dying. I pull myself into my
core and feel myself snap back into my body.