half-hearted attempt to find something. Will saw it was a bottle of cheap brandy. He took the top off and held the bottle to the old man’s lips, letting him drink deep from it.
“You’re a good lad,” he said as Will put the bottle back. He spoke slowly, his voice weak at the edges. “Lost everything, me, a long time ago. This is what it comes to. No one else’s fault, only mine. That’s what it is. Yep, that’s what it is.”
Will looked at the old man and saw that a single tear had formed and rolled down his frozen cheek. His eyes appeared lost in some distant memory, perhaps of when life had still been full of hope for him, perhaps of the things he had lost along the way.
Will reached out and took his hand, which was as cold as his own. Just as a baby’s would, the old man’s fingers closed round Will’s.
“You’re as cold as me, lad. You should get going.”
“I’m not cold.” Will looked him in the eye and said, “Can I tell you a secret?” The old man didn’t answer, but gave the slightest nod. “I’m nearly eight hundred years old. I’m un … I’m a vampire, but I’m also the Earl of Mercia by right, and you are no less my duty than all your ancestors were before you.”
“I don’t understand you, lad.”
Will realised he hadn’t made sense, and that his identity hardly mattered to this man anyway, not now.
“You don’t need to understand, but what I want you to know is that this isn’t the end, there is more beyond. This life is not the end of it.”
The old man probably thought Will no more than a teenager with strange ideas, but he had heard his words and whatever he thought of the speaker, he sounded hopeful as he said, “You think so?”
“I do.” Will stared into his eyes, capturing him now.“Think about when you were happy, think back, your childhood, some sunny afternoon. Can you see it?”
There again, there appeared the slightest nod, and the old man smiled a little and his eyes, locked on to that faraway vision, sparkled with life, and remained like that a few minutes longer. Then for a moment his grip tightened round Will’s hand before slowly releasing it as the last vestiges of life slipped away.
Will sat for a little while, thinking on the mystery of the life that had just ended before him, of all those that had come and gone before it. For a moment, his mind drifted back to a childhood afternoon of his own, but dream as he might, the cold would not claim him.
He stood again and looked about him. Such an emptiness, within and without. Nothing would come of this night to offer him sustenance, he knew that for certain. Dejected, he walked back the way he’d come and in through the city walls.
The Whole Earth was in total darkness, including those parts of the living quarters above that looked out on to the street. He thought of Chris and Rachel asleep inside, wondering whether they slept well, whether Chris’s loyalty even mattered now that the focus was at Marland.
Will walked on, the floodlit cathedral spire ahead of him, its lights hazy in the frosty air. He let himself in bythe side door and walked slowly up the nave, taking a seat in the front pew before the altar.
He felt at peace there, and though it didn’t nourish him the way being with Eloise did, being here in this church at least tempered his hunger, enough to make it bearable for the time being. It held him fast, this place, and offered him hope.
And as he sat there beneath the illuminated dust that had so entranced Eloise, he thought back on what he’d told the old man. He’d told him there was something else, something beyond this life, and he had to believe it – had he not seen spirits? Had he not seen the spirit of his own brother, a familiarity which could not have been faked by any sorcerer?
Yet he could take no comfort from such a thought if it was true that he’d dispossessed his victims of their souls, of their very ability to experience anything beyond the lives they had
“You’re a good lad,” he said as Will put the bottle back. He spoke slowly, his voice weak at the edges. “Lost everything, me, a long time ago. This is what it comes to. No one else’s fault, only mine. That’s what it is. Yep, that’s what it is.”
Will looked at the old man and saw that a single tear had formed and rolled down his frozen cheek. His eyes appeared lost in some distant memory, perhaps of when life had still been full of hope for him, perhaps of the things he had lost along the way.
Will reached out and took his hand, which was as cold as his own. Just as a baby’s would, the old man’s fingers closed round Will’s.
“You’re as cold as me, lad. You should get going.”
“I’m not cold.” Will looked him in the eye and said, “Can I tell you a secret?” The old man didn’t answer, but gave the slightest nod. “I’m nearly eight hundred years old. I’m un … I’m a vampire, but I’m also the Earl of Mercia by right, and you are no less my duty than all your ancestors were before you.”
“I don’t understand you, lad.”
Will realised he hadn’t made sense, and that his identity hardly mattered to this man anyway, not now.
“You don’t need to understand, but what I want you to know is that this isn’t the end, there is more beyond. This life is not the end of it.”
The old man probably thought Will no more than a teenager with strange ideas, but he had heard his words and whatever he thought of the speaker, he sounded hopeful as he said, “You think so?”
“I do.” Will stared into his eyes, capturing him now.“Think about when you were happy, think back, your childhood, some sunny afternoon. Can you see it?”
There again, there appeared the slightest nod, and the old man smiled a little and his eyes, locked on to that faraway vision, sparkled with life, and remained like that a few minutes longer. Then for a moment his grip tightened round Will’s hand before slowly releasing it as the last vestiges of life slipped away.
Will sat for a little while, thinking on the mystery of the life that had just ended before him, of all those that had come and gone before it. For a moment, his mind drifted back to a childhood afternoon of his own, but dream as he might, the cold would not claim him.
He stood again and looked about him. Such an emptiness, within and without. Nothing would come of this night to offer him sustenance, he knew that for certain. Dejected, he walked back the way he’d come and in through the city walls.
The Whole Earth was in total darkness, including those parts of the living quarters above that looked out on to the street. He thought of Chris and Rachel asleep inside, wondering whether they slept well, whether Chris’s loyalty even mattered now that the focus was at Marland.
Will walked on, the floodlit cathedral spire ahead of him, its lights hazy in the frosty air. He let himself in bythe side door and walked slowly up the nave, taking a seat in the front pew before the altar.
He felt at peace there, and though it didn’t nourish him the way being with Eloise did, being here in this church at least tempered his hunger, enough to make it bearable for the time being. It held him fast, this place, and offered him hope.
And as he sat there beneath the illuminated dust that had so entranced Eloise, he thought back on what he’d told the old man. He’d told him there was something else, something beyond this life, and he had to believe it – had he not seen spirits? Had he not seen the spirit of his own brother, a familiarity which could not have been faked by any sorcerer?
Yet he could take no comfort from such a thought if it was true that he’d dispossessed his victims of their souls, of their very ability to experience anything beyond the lives they had
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