Chapter 404
"No," Jorick said loudly. His voice broke the spell and the others stood blinking uncertainly. "You don't want to defend the world, but rule it, and you're hoping to goad Samael into a war; a glorious challenge and the final proof that you are supreme, that you stand above even those made before you. It's the same as always. You're trying to prove your worth."
Malick gave a deep, throaty laugh. "And so are we all. But who do we try to convince? Others or ourselves? You think my motives more complex than they are. When I left The Guild I thought only of entertainment, something new to quicken this near dead pulse. I sought Lilith with the same hope, a final completion of a quest long desired. Something that would remind me of my youth and its lofty dreams. But when I found what you had raised" He broke off and his dark eyes shifted to Katelina. She could feel him, like a bead of burning light inside her mind.
Get out!
Malick's laughter was so loud that Katelina had to cover her ears. "No! Not you, but your human! That is not what I expected. See? The world still holds surprises. How interesting that will be. And now I must confess I'd thought to keep you here, my son, a prize fought over by greater gods, but it seems you are not the chosen child. A pity. I thought it fitting that you, the child of self-imposed conscience, should stand in the ashes and watch the world burn."
Jorick remained rigid and Katelina tugged his sleeve. She rarely understood Malick, and this was no exception.
"I should have guessed," Malick continued. "On previous visits she was barely more than quivering jelly and yet now- But then the blood of ancients runs in her veins. Blood older than mine, and I think older even than those who set themselves up as the rulers of our world, who hide in their German basement and sleep the sleep of dead hearts. A pity she did not receive more, for a mortal child so new and yet so old would be something truly interesting."
Katelina could figure out who he was talking about now, and it terrified her. She knew what happened to people Malick found interesting.
"We're not here to discuss Katelina," Jorick said forcefully. "We're here for Ume."
"The child, the child! Yes, yes." Malick clapped his hands and Arlen reappeared, his weapon clean. "Bring her so that Jorick may be satisfied."
Arlen bowed quickly and disappeared through the doorway again.
"Does that satisfy you, my son? I doubt it, for nothing will ever truly please you. Then again, can any except the blind sheep of the world claim to be truly satisfied? Those meant for greatness will always feel the gnawing under their skin, the desire for something 'more', though so few can really comprehend what it is they crave. And those of us who do-well, others would foist their labels upon us. Maniac, fiend, monster. Such petty words from petty minds. But then, the world is pettiness."
Arlen came through the door, followed by Cyprus and his prisoner. Ume's dark hair fell around her shoulders and her face was still smeared with old blood and dirt. Her uniform was torn in several places, and Katelina could see gaps of pale flesh. Were they where she'd been wounded in the fight, or were they done after the fact?
Sorino's eyes gleamed and he called, "Here he is, the new Father of Shadows, holder of the sacred seal."
Momentary confusion wiped the hatred from Cyprus' face, but it returned and he glared at Wolfe. Ume looked at them with wide, surprised eyes, as if she hadn't expected anyone to come. Verchiel stepped toward her, but Cyprus moved in front of her with an angry snarl.
"Do not be so hasty," Malick said. "You came for a trade, and a trade I will have, though now I would ask a different prize." His dark eyes moved to Katelina.
Jorick snarled. "You asked for the prisoner and we gave him to you!"
"Yes, you did, but I never said he was the exchange price."
What had Griselda said? "Master says you have brought someone with you who belongs to him and he would demand his return."
That someone wasn't the prisonerit was Jorick.
Fethillen studied him. "Your message said you didn't want a trade. Was that a lie?"
"Oh no," Malick said cheerfully. "The message was true. I am not interested in trading for the Scharfrichter, as Cyprus is."
Fethillen demanded, "If they are your enemy, why is their leader under your roof?"
"Because he is my prisoner. Does he not have a guard on him?" Malick gave her a wink and motioned to Arlen. "Come now, it is not so hard to understand." He turned to Jorick. "You've come across such tactics before, though on a smaller scale."
As if the memory was forced into her mind, Katelina could see the council chambers in The Guild's citadel. A human woman sagged, answering questions in a monotone voice, explaining how the vampire Traven had ordered her to sweep into covens during the day, murder those he deemed unimportant, then, once the sun set, another vampire would recruit the survivors for Traven's coven.
That's what Malick's doing! The Children of Shadows destroyed the citadels and then someone recruited the survivorsthe strongest vampiresfor Malick's personal army. That was why the Children were both his servants and his enemies, because publicly he had to disown them, but in private it was another matter.
Jorick asked, "You would stoop to copy someone so low?"
"It is hardly a copy, but has been done time and again over the centuries. Even so, if the tactics are sound why not use them? You do not disregard a tool because you care not for the man who used it last."
"And Memnon?" Fethillen asked. "You've sworn to resurrect him?"
Malick laughed. "Memnon burned, child, as you well know. You were there, weren't you? When the great pyre was built and he was thrown bodily, bound and trussed, among the flames. You heard his screams as his flesh melted and his fat sizzled. Memnon is ashes and nothing can resurrect ashes, except magic."
"There's no such thing!" Fethillen snapped.
"Of course there isn't, but the sheep are happy to believe in it, and who am I to shatter their illusions? They will serve their purpose, and if they complain at the end they will meet the same fate as others deemed unworthy. I can see that you wonder about the videos; those messages sent out to so many places. The answer is simple enough, and that is to draw the old ones in. Any who do not know the name of Memnon are too young for my notice or interest, but those that do, well, they are old enough to be of some worth, and if they know his name they know his deeds. What child of that long ago age did not despise Memnon and his bloody followers? No, even as the weak and terrified run from their citadels, the older blood will make their way to them, anxious to destroy what they once thought dead, and then, when the ashes settle and the banner of the golden eye comes among them and says 'Join me! We killed Memnon once and we will destroy his legacy!' they will come. They will flock to me and to my army, and together we will do something glorious." He held out his arms.
"As if that would work." Fethillen sneered.
Malick laughed, rich and deep, like ringing caverns. "Ah, but it has, child. The name of hate has already drawn many to me. I would show you their numbers, but I'm afraid it's time for my unhappy prisoner to escape. How interesting that he waited until you arrived to take the chance. It's only natural my guards will jump to the conclusion that one or all of you are helping him. Such a pity, but in the end I will have what I want."
