A Place to Belong: Chapter 18

Chapter XVIII

Hiding from the Sun

I had just enough energy to set up another ward in a collapsed tunnel before the full force of the daysleep took me. This far down, it was impossible to know the movement of the sun and stars, yet somehow my vitae was able to know when the burning light of the sun illuminated the land nearly a mile above my head. 

“You needn’t fear the sun down here,” a low, gravelly voice said. I whipped my head around, ready to attack when I saw him. 

A grotesque figure, features twisted and distorted by a curse on his bloodline. His face looked half crushed, his ears were bat-like and shredded, and his clothes were tattered to the point of being little more than rotting scarves draped over him dozens at a time. He grinned at me, his jagged, crooked teeth yellowed by time and rot. 

“Is that any greeting for an old friend?” he asked me, lowering his stiff frame onto a large rock and easing back onto the rubble like a throne. 

“Ledger?” I asked, confused. “You’re alive?”

He laughed, at least I thought it was a laugh. It sounded more like a dog choking on a chicken bone it had dug out of the trash, but the Nosferatu shook his head, smiling at me. It was a kind smile, despite being more horrifying than anything else I’d ever seen in my life. 

“No kid, long dead. Been dead since I got sent down here by my Camarilla masters to do exactly what your Anarch masters are sending you to do,” he said, grinning. “But it is me. Dunno what you’d call me, exactly. An echo, a shade, a ghost? Ask your girlfriend the semantics, I don’t give a fuck anymore.” 

“She’s not my…” I started to say, but Ledger cut me off. 

“Argue all you want, but in the real world, while you’re having a conversation with a hideous old man in this dream you're having, your head is in her lap and she fell asleep petting you,” Ledger choked a bit as he laughed, making the sound even more confusing. “Lucky bastard, just enjoy what you have while you have it, would ya? I never did. I fought for more and more and more. I wanted to be recognized in my organization, and look what it got me.” 

“Dead,” I said, shaking my head. “What happens to us when we die?”

“You mean, like, heaven or hell?” he asked, grinning again. “Wouldn’t know as I’m not in either.” 

“No,” I shook my head. “Like… there are some movies we turn to dust, or fire, or… mist? Though I think Dracula turning to mist was just a power of his.” 

“Yeah, damn Tzimiche and their weird shit,” Ledger said, looking around. “I’d kill for a cigarette right now.” 

“I’m sorry, Dracula is real?” I asked, my eyes widening at the idea. “And he’s part of clan Tzimiche?”

“Well, Dracul is, I don’t know about his kid,” Ledger shrugged. “But Dracul is who the book was based on, so I’m guessing that’s who you’re talking about.”

“And VanHelsing?” I asked, curious. 

“Also real, as are some of his descendants and a lot of mortals who found out about us during the First Inquisition. Wanna know what happens to our bodies?” he laughed. “They know. Call themselves ‘hunters.’ Good reason to hide down here. There’s more than just the sun up there that wants us dead.”

“So you don’t know?” I asked, disappointed.

“Didn’t see my body when I died,” Ledger shrugged. “If you find a skull that could have as ugly a mug as mine on it, grab it. Take it home and put it on the mantle. Should be a nice conversation starter.” 

Something Isadora said about Ledger clicked in the back of my brain. I mulled the thought over for a moment before asking. 

“Would you like me to return it to your clan?” I ventured, cautiously. “Apparently you’re revered among them.”

“Revered?” Ledger barked out a laugh. “I doubt it, but sure, why not kid? Risk your life to get my broken, ugly skull back to a horde of the broken and ugly. I’m sure they’ll appreciate it.” 

It was clear to me in that moment that Ledger was broken in more ways than I’d originally thought, but there was little I could do to help him repair that now. Time was limited, both before the sun rose and before the dream ended. Time moved differently in dreams and there were more pressing issues we were facing that needed addressing. I would just have to figure out what to do with Ledger’s body if I were able to even find a piece of it while I was here. 

“You said you were sent down here. To the vault,” I said, realigning the conversation to something a bit more prudent. “Were you able to get to it successfully?”

“Nearly,” Ledger said, scowling in a way that distorted his features even beyond what was already making my stomach churn. An impressive feat in a dream. “Got to where the door was in sight, then something took me out. Didn’t see what it was, but I fell, then I remember laying in the dark, my mind whispering to me, nearly driving me insane as I slowly bled out. Next thing I knew, I was wandering with the other vengeful shades down here.” 

Several questions filled my mind at once. Something stirred in me, and I subconsciously knew that the daysleep would end soon. I didn’t have long, so I needed to learn the most important information first. 

“You fell?” I asked, my words feeling somehow rushed and sluggish all at once. “Fell from what?”

“There’s a chasm between here and the vault. The only way across it is an old mine track that was supported by wooden beams. Not the best construction, not the best quality, but was good enough to send minecarts full of dirt and rock, so sturdy enough,” Ledger shrugged. “I took a tumble off the side of it. Might be best to go one at a time. Either it's best for the security of the wooden structure… or helps you make sure no one gives you a little nudge off the side.”

I bit my tongue, wondering if that’s what had happened to him. He had ambition and bitterness in spades. It wouldn’t be far from plausible that a member of his coterie decided he’d become a liability and shoved him off the side. There were also Garou in these tunnels, it's possible they’d been down here a while. One could have hit him, gone down with him, died on impact or dragged itself away. Maybe some combination of the two. A Garou charging them, a panic to flee, and someone pushed him out of their way to escape. I wanted to ask, needed to know… but the sun was setting, and I no longer needed to hide from its wrath. Too many questions, not enough time. 

“You called them the other vengeful spirits,” I said, pushing back all my other burning questions. Ledger had taught me so much through the books he left behind, I needed to know what else was left behind. “Are you a vengeful spirit now?”

Ledger pondered this question for a long moment. So long that I was beginning to panic thinking he wouldn’t answer before I woke. Right as I was on the verge of shouting for him to answer, he grinned and looked at me. 

“Yeah, kid. I think I am, but there’s something down here now that’s acting as a balm to that. And no, it ain’t your girlfriend,” his disturbing smile widened. “I think it’s you, kid. You’ve given me two things that no other kindred has ever done. Respect and credit. You respect what I did. You see value in my work, and openly praise it. Damn, do you know how far that would have gone with my clan? You run into a Nosferatu in the future, here’s my advice: treat them at least half as good as you treated me in death, and you’ll be alright. Got it, kid?”

I didn’t get a chance to answer him. My eyes fluttered open in the dark. The sun couldn’t touch us here, but neither could the moon, or the stars, and I lay there for a long moment, wondering what it must have been like for Ledger to spend his entire afterlife trapped in these shafts. Existing in dark obscurity. The dark protected us from harm, but to exist without the light was still beyond hellish, even in this new body. 

“Grey?” Isadora’s voice came to me so quietly in the dark that I could barely hear it. “Are you alright?” 

“Hurt,” I admitted, slowly pulling myself up and realizing that Ledger had been right, my head had been in her lap. “Not as healed as I would have liked, but I’m able to keep going. Not to worry.” 

I felt her hand, cold as ice, press against my cheek. The chill was pleasing, calming to me, and I felt parts of my body relax that I hadn’t realized I’d been holding so tensely. She stroked my cheek for a moment, and I tried to do exactly as Ledger said and just enjoy the moment. 

“You were crying,” she whispered to me, and I realized that she’d been wiping away my vitae tears. 

“I was…” I paused, feeling a lump forming in my throat. Something that I’d not felt since I was mortal. “I was contemplating what it meant for those who were lost down here. Those who died forgotten, or betrayed, in these tunnels. The hate and anger they must have felt. And what it would take to make that right.”

Isadora’s hand paused on my cheek. For a second, I thought I felt a slight quiver in her palm, but an instant later it was gone. 

“Who spoke to you?” she asked, probably able to feel the energy of the dead and know what had happened. Or maybe she was just that insightful. It was hard to tell with her. 

“Ledger,” I responded without hesitation. “I asked if he was alive, and he told me no. He didn’t know if he was a ghost or echo or what, but he said you would know.” 

“I have thoughts,” she mused. I could hear a tightness in her voice, one that screamed unspoken concerns, as though she couldn’t quite phrase something because she was afraid of the effect it would have. “You said he was… angry?” 

“Yeah, said he was a vengeful spirit,” I said, nodding. “But that I made him feel less vengeful because I respected him and credited him for what he did down here. How Nosferatu never get that respect, and how far it would go just to let them have it. He told me other things too, but I was just reflecting on how much he gave to the Camarilla and how little he ever got back. How we’re just like him, being sent around by the Anarchs because they have the power over us. We’re promised power and opportunity, but all we get are those empty promises or death. And oftentimes, the people in power don’t care which.”

“There’s really nothing we can do about that,” Isadora sighed, though I could feel something shift in her. I wasn’t sure what it was, but something in her voice was different now. 

“There is,” I said, getting to my feet slowly. “We can play the game, but learn the rules better than they know them. Then we flip the table before they know what hits them.” 

“How do you expect to manage that?” Isadora asked, but her question lacked the sarcasm one might expect to hear when making such a bold claim. Instead, her question seemed legitimate, as though she truly wanted to know what I was planning. I grinned at her. 

“I have a few ideas,” I told her, smiling as I offered her my hand to help her up. She took it and stood gracefully. “But I’m definitely going to need your help to do it.” 

“My powers?” she asked, cocking an eyebrow at me, now illuminated by the flashlight Callie had turned on as she woke. I heard Diego moving around, preparing to leave. I shook my head at her. 

“No,” I said, reaching up and tapping her temple gently. “I need to know a lot more about history. It suddenly seems a lot more important to me than before.” 

As we walked, I asked Isadora a great deal of questions about history, both human and kindred, which she happily answered. It was a curious thing to hear her happy. I’d seen her express emotions before, but when she spoke of history, especially Roman and Byzantium history, she practically glowed. Callie complained once or twice about the dull conversation, but even Diego asked questions of Isadora, especially when it came to the aspects of Oblivion, a power they both shared, that came up in the tales. 

“So you’re telling me, that Constantinople was more than what mortals thought it was, a powerful city, but completely run by kindred?” I asked, already knowing part of it from my studies with Natalia, but she’d shut down any questions I’d asked about it prior. Now, Isadora was able to feed the curiosity that Natalia tried to starve. 

“Not just run by Kindred, inspired by Kindred,” Isadora continued, her words coming quicker. “There was a triad of kindred, rumored to be lovers, known as the Trinity. They were a Toreador named Michael, who apparently named himself after the archangel Michael...” 

“A bit blasphemous,” Diego muttered. 

“Who do you think one percent of the American population is named after?” Callie said, sarcastically. “And Spanish doesn’t have a leg to stand on. Maria is just Mary, Jose is Joseph, Jesus may be pronounced with an ‘H’ sound, but it's still Jesus.” 

“Fair, but was he already a kindred when he decided to try to be St. Michael?” Diego asked. 

“Neither here nor there,” I interrupted. “Who were the rest of the Trinity?”

“There was also Antonius, a Ventrue,” Isadora continued, eliciting a small pleased noise from Callie as she spoke about her clan. “And Dracon, a Tzimiche. They came together because they wanted to help Michael achieve his Dream.” 

“What was his dream?” I asked. 

“The Dream was to build a city, a society, that was the idealized Kindred society. One where all the clans and even the mortals lived in harmony,” she explained. “One that mirrored, if not rivaled, the city of Enoch.” 

“Enoch?” Callie asked, curiously. 

“The first city,” Diego answered. 

“According to Biblical lore,” I countered. “Uraq was the first city according to Mesopotamian lore, though there’s a possibility that historically they were the same city with different names.” 

“Way to play the peacemaker with that diplomatic response,” Diego snarked at me, though his tone was playful rather than annoyed. “Getting better at it I see.” 

“Practice makes perfect,” I shrugged, returning the smile I heard in his voice. “What happened to this dream? I know the ‘They Might Be Giants’ song tells me that it’s Istanbul now, but if Constantinople fell, it had to fall for a reason. And if the Trinity were holding it together, then something broke them apart.” 

“Yeah, something did,” Isadora said, and the joyful tone she’d had from explaining history faltered and died. I felt the gloom of the tunnels returning as though a light were extinguished. “Antonius was murdered, though I don’t know the story behind that. Michael was diablarized by another kindred called Mary the Black. I don’t know what clan she was a part of, but there’s rumors she was an infernalist, or a demon worshipper. No one knows what happened to Dracon, though as a flesh sculptor, he could be anyone anywhere right now.” 

“One got killed, one got eaten, and one ran,” Diego said, shaking his head. “I guess that’s what you get when you try to create a utopia on earth.” 

“No,” I shook my head. “That’s what happens when you fail to create a utopia on earth. I don’t need to know the rest of the history to know why they fell.” 

“Oh?” Isadora asked. “And why is that?”

Before I could answer, Diego held up his hand for us to halt. We paused, falling silent as we let him scout ahead quickly. The moment stretched on, but after what felt like hours, Diego returned, slipping out of the shadows as if he’d been a part of one, which, for all I knew, he had been. 

“There’s a hell of a drop ahead of us,” he said, a nervous expression on his face. “Looks like an old bridge for mine carts about a hundred feet or so across. Thing looks rickety as hell, but there’s something weird on the other side.” 

“Define ‘weird’,” I told him. Diego just kind of shrugged. 

“Like… black marble?” he answered. “Had some ancient looking writing on it from what I could tell, but I didn’t cross the bridge to get close enough.” 

“Then how did you see the writing in the dark?” Callie asked, impatiently. 

“I can see in the dark,” he answered her easily, his eyes swirling black, causing Callie to shift slightly away from him. “Plus, I can move through the shadows. I slipped over and took a closer look, but I didn’t cross the bridge.” 

“Just the chasm,” I grinned. “Now who’s getting diplomatic with their words?”

He just grinned back at me and shrugged. 

“I wasn’t risking staying over there too long,” he explained. “Technically, only my head and torso crossed over the chasm.” 

“Now you’re thinking with portals,” I said. 

“What are you talking about?” Callie asked, her annoyance outweighing her fearful concerns. 

“Video games,” Diego said, a bitter note in his voice. “You know, that thing I can’t play anymore.” 

“You literally have super powers,” I rolled my eyes. “Enjoy that.” 

I started moving down the tunnel, taking the lead. It didn’t take long until we got to the chasm and I could see the drop that both Diego and Ledger had described to me. There was a single sigil carved into the metal of the cart rail. Three horizontal lines on top of each other, encircled and a heavy vertical slash down its center. 

One of Ledger’s marks. The vault was ahead, but the way was dangerous. He must have carved this before he’d fallen. How different would that sigil look if he’d know just how dangerous it was. Perhaps he would have included the sigil for ‘turn back,’ though, even if he had, I know I wouldn’t have heeded it. 

“The vault is on the other side of this chasm,” I said, pointing to the sigil to keep the others from asking me how I could possibly be sure. “The way is dangerous. Diego, want to slip over to the other side your way? Then the rest of us can come over one by one.”

“One by one?” Callie asked, suspiciously. “Gonna get to the other side and collapse it? Leave us stranded?”

“Stranded on the side that has the exit while we’re trapped by the vault?” Isadora asked, irritation in her voice. 

“Well… no, but on the way back you could collapse it and leave the last person stranded by the vault!” Callie tried to argue, or tried to save face, either one would give her the same result. “We should all go together.”

“Then you would just say that two of us could work together to shove the third over the side to plunge to their death,” I countered, and watched Callie visibly gulp. Apparently, she’d not considered that option. Or she had, and I just ruined her plan. “So if you’re so scared of being left behind…” I gestured to the bridge. 

“After you.” 

Callie bit her bottom lip, realizing that she’d just talked herself into a corner. She looked at me, then the bridge, and I even saw her eyes flick back the way we came. Marcus needed the relic, so she couldn’t trust us alone in the vault without her. I planted the fear of being pushed off meaning going in a group was a terrible idea now. Then there was her fear of being left behind on the other side of a collapsed bridge. The internal battle was impressive to behold on her face, but as impressive as it was, it was also short lived. Steeling her courage, Callie turned to face the bridge. 

“Fine,” she said, defiance masking some of the fear in her voice, if not all. “Then I’ll go first.”  

Isadora and I watched her march across, though her steps began to falter about halfway across as her confidence wavered. With some coaxing from Diego, she was able to make it to the other side. Turning, I looked over at Isadora. 

“Would you like to go before or after me?” I asked. 

“A far more attractive notion than ‘ladies first,’ regardless of how noble its origins may be,” she said, smiling. 

“Were the notions initially noble?” I asked, grinning. “I thought it was just an excuse to stare at a woman’s ass as she walked away.” 

“In those bustles?” Isadora grinned. “Not a chance. Though I suppose in modern society, that could be the reasoning.” 

She stepped up and began crossing the bridge. 

“In this case,” she said, looking over her shoulder at me and smiling, her fangs glinting slightly in the light of my flashlight. “Ladies first.” 

I watched as Isadora walked across the bridge, each of her steps filled with confidence. It may have been my imagination, but I thought I saw a slight saunter to her steps. A swaying of her hips that wasn’t typically there. To be sure, I watched the entire way until it was my turn to cross. 

Stepping up onto the bridge, I began walking, whistling to myself as I went. For some reason, an old Beatles song came to mind. 

“Here comes the sun,” I murmured as I walked. “Do do do doooo…”