Elizabeth Hunter - This Same Earth

“Did I sell you out?” Tywyll’s head cocked to the side and she could feel the heat start to radiate from Giovanni. She squeezed his knee and felt the energy in the air dissipate slightly. “You were taken, but it looks like yer here and safe to me, girl.”

Giovanni’s voice was taut. “Do you deny informing my son we were coming after Beatrice?”

Tywyll squinted as he took another drink. “I may have…repaid a favor, fire-starter. I always repay my favors. But I wouldn’t be bringing harm to Stephen’s dear girl.” Tywyll’s eyes darkened and Beatrice saw the cold-blooded killer beneath the unassuming demeanor of the small man. “Now, my debt is repaid, so I’ll ask you: were you hurt, Mariposa?”

Giovanni spit something out in a language she didn’t recognize, and Tywyll glared at him before responding in kind. She didn’t recognize the language, and she was beginning to get frustrated with their quick, heated exchange. She saw tension lift from Tywyll’s shoulders before his eyes shuttered closed. He fell silent and took a long drink of his beer.

“Interesting,” Tywyll muttered.

“What?” She turned to Giovanni, irritated and confused. “What was that?”

“I’ll tell you later. Tywyll knew your father. He hid him from Lorenzo for a time. He has an…interest in you. Nothing to be concerned about.”

“Do you know where my dad is?” She turned to Tywyll, reaching across the table to grab his cold hand. She saw Giovanni start, but Tywyll only squeezed her slight fingers. “Please, do you know-”

“No, girl, I don’t. I taught him well. You’ll not find Stephen unless he wants to be found. That was my gift to him. In my many years, I’ve not considered many friends, but yer father was one.”

Giovanni put a hand on her shoulder and drew her back. “Why did you tell Lorenzo we were coming for Beatrice?”

“Did the mariposa figure it out?” Tywyll asked with a small smile. “I’ll bet she did. She’s got the look of her father; I’ll bet she has his mind, too. Ye' are the butterfly, aren’t ye?” Tywyll cocked his head. “I’ll be keen to see what happens with ye.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered. She was lying, she knew exactly what he was talking about, and from the look in his eyes, Tywyll did too.

“Don’t ye'?” Tywyll took another drink and turned to Giovanni. “Why did I tell yer son? I owed a very old favor to him, Giovanni Vecchio. One he was keen to collect. I do have a reputation to maintain, and I’ll not be backing out of a favor owed. However, I don’t owe him anymore. The ship he was on before I got word to him was bound for two ports-Port Said in Egypt and Shanghai, China.”

Tywyll directed his words to Beatrice. “Now, I’ve no idea where he was goin’ after that, and I don’t know his location now. Not my job. But he’s still after my friend, so I’ve got no objection to answering what ye' want to ask, if it suits my mood, and ye' ask the right questions.”

Beatrice could sense the buzzing anticipation from Giovanni. She still didn’t know what she wanted to ask, her mind was whirling from the night’s revelations, so she looked up and nodded at him. A small smile quirked Giovanni’s mouth as he began questioning Tywyll.

“What did Stephen De Novo take from my son?”

“Good question. Gold, for one. And a lot of it. Unusual stuff. Old. Some of it melted down. All unmarked, not that I minded.”

She caught the minute flicker in Giovanni’s eyes and she knew he recognized what the other vampire was talking about. “What about the books?”

“ Books ?” Tywyll cocked his head. “Not a good question.”

Beatrice whispered, “Book. What about the book ?”

Tywyll nodded. “Better question.”

Giovanni looked confused. “Only one?”

“Only one he kept with him. Only one yer boy really wanted.”

They all seemed to lean toward each other, and her heart pounded.

“What book does my son want?”

Tywyll smirked. “If I could read ancient Persian, I’d have a much better idea. Unfortunately, Stephen didn’t teach me. Don’t know that he could read it himself-though, I’ve no doubt he can by now. When he escaped yer son, he only knew that this book was the one Lorenzo guarded most carefully.”

“He didn’t know what it was?”

“Oh-” The old vampire’s eyes twinkled. “He had an idea.”

Tywyll paused to finish off his beer as Beatrice fought the urge to reach across the table and shake him. “Well?” she finally asked.

“What do you know of alchemy, Mariposa?”

Giovanni snorted and slumped in his seat. “Spells and magic,” he muttered. “Ridiculous. What does that tell us? Nothing.”

“Arrogance, fire-starter. It’s an old science.”

Beatrice looked between them, confused by their demeanor. “Wait, isn’t alchemy just an early form of chemistry?”

“Yes,” Tywyll said, as Giovanni muttered, “No.”

She could almost hear the “professor voice” before Giovanni opened his mouth. “Alchemy is magic, not chemistry. And most certainly not a real science. Philosopher’s stones. Gold from lead. Elixir of life. Not science. Magic.”

Tywyll cut his eyes toward her. “Oh…immortality, manipulation of the elements, the creation of life itself. I can’t imagine why a curious vampire would find those things worthy of further study.”

They all fell silent around the table while Giovanni and Tywyll exchanged looks she couldn’t quite decipher. “So-” She looked back and forth between them. “-what is it? Is it science, like amnis? Something natural we just don’t understand yet? Or is it magic?”

Tywyll chuckled while Giovanni looked chastened.

“Ye’ve nabbed yerself a smart one. You two won’t bore each other anytime soon.”

Giovanni shook his head. “We will have to consider what Lorenzo may have found.”

“Or what my father did,” she added. “If he was willing to risk himself for this book…” Beatrice felt her throat tighten up. “I have to think it’s all been worth it.”

Giovanni pulled her into his side and she felt him press a kiss to the top of her head. She glanced at Tywyll across the table, but the old vampire only wore a mysterious smile.

“Well,” he said as he shrugged. “I’m tired of answering questions. This is the most I’ve talked in years. I’ve a mind to get home now.”

Beatrice leaned into Giovanni’s shoulder. “Where is home, Tywyll?”

He winked. “Here and there, girl. The river, that’s my home.”

Giovanni tossed a few pounds on the table and they rose to leave. They walked out of the dark pub to see their car and driver waiting a block away and a long, wooden skiff tied up to the side of the floating pub.

She looked at the cagey vampire, who had given her more clues to her father’s whereabouts than she’d had in the five years she’d searched for him.

“Thank you, Tywyll.”

“Yer welcome, Mariposa. He gave me that name, you know. I have a feeling he thought you might come looking for me.”

“Smart man.” She heard Giovanni murmur.

“Smarter vampire,” Tywyll said.

The river surged beside them and Beatrice heard a glass fall to the floor and shatter inside.

“Why on Earth did you want to meet here?” Beatrice asked as she looked from the ramshackle bar to the old water vampire. “This bar is just…” She curled her lip as the strange man chuckled.

Tywyll stood on the dock, his hands tucked in his pockets, and she could feel the sudden energy that charged the air.

“Oh,” he said, “it has its features.”

Looking over his shoulder, Beatrice noticed the boats moored nearby begin to drift to the bank. There was a soft ripple, and a squawking rose as a flock of ducks took off from the center channel. In the distance, she saw a fishing boat begin to change course. Then Beatrice gasped as the The Cockleshell pub itself began to rise as the river pushed it up and toward them.