Vaughn Heppner - Assassin of the Damned

I passed smaller cave openings, but the thought of negotiating them made my skin crawl. My tunnel cooled, and I noticed wet patches on the ceiling. I was deep underground and slowed because of it. The passage ahead curved sharply.

Then something ahead roared. I would have sworn its echo made the mica glitter. The hidden beast snorted and licked its chops. I thought of an elephant-sized lion and took a step back. Massive chains clinked, and leathery sliding sounds made my imagination cringe. I backed up. I hoped the chains meant it was leashed. It snuffed wetly. Had it heard me, smelled me? I wanted to turn and run, but forced myself to move quietly in my cat-silent boots. The chains clinked again, but it was a softer sound. I think the beast lay down.

I soon reached a small side tunnel. I tested its air, and with a slow step, began to explore. The grade rose. With luck, I might reach an exit in the hill. But as the grade continued to rise and curve, I feared it returned to the castle. Before long, the cave walls merged into brick. My muscles loosened with relief. I was out of the Earth, although I’d surely reentered the castle.

Soon I spied flickering shadows and light. I moved softly like an assassin, peered around a curve and saw a massive fireplace. There was a table where a woman rolled dice. To my shock, the dice rose into the air. They rattled as if shook in an invisible fist. This was a place of horrors indeed. The dice dropped onto the table, one with green felt.

The woman laughed and snatched up the dice, and coins appeared. They slid across the table to her side. Did a ghost push them from an invisible pile? By the stars, I hated this place.

The woman was small. She wore bright garments of yellow, blue and red. She wore a jester’s hat with bells and she wore curly toed shoes in the modern style. Tapestries and Persian rugs hung on the walls. The tapestries showed ancients dressed like Greeks. They sported at play or played lyres. At least these weren’t moon tapestries, and the woman wore colors other than silver or pale white. I inched nearer. It was time to get proper directions one way or another.

She stiffened, and it appeared as if she listened to an invisible ghost across the table. She turned, and her eyebrows rose as she saw me. She had an oval face and tanned, maybe wind-burned skin. In the paintings before, Moon maidens had been unearthly pale.

“I beg your pardon, madam,” I said. “I appear to be lost.”

“Lost in your queen’s castle?” She shook her head, tinkled the cap’s bells. “I doubt that very much, Darkling.”

I hesitated to threaten her. She had a melodious voice, and there was something in her brown eyes, something mischievous and guileful. It was different then Ofelia’s rat-like cunning. I sensed…weight, gravity.

“You have me at a disadvantage, madam. You appear to know me, yet I don’t know you.”

“With Darklings one needs every advantage possible,” she said.

“…Who is your friend?”

She raised her brows and seemed on the verge of speaking. Then she glanced across the table and listened. She nodded and smiled at me. “My friend, as you say, infers an interesting thought. You’re down in the dungeons, and this is a joyful night. Have you already angered your queen, or is your presence down here a judicial one?”

“A joyful night?” I asked.

“Because of your elevation, naturally. Your queen is anxious, as I’m sure you’ve learned. Old Father Night-” She laughed. “Your queen has spoken about whittling down the odds. What kept you so long?”

I was sick of not knowing what people talked about. “How long have you been here?” I asked.

“I can’t see how that matters to you.”

“Likewise,” I said.

“A touchy Darkling. How amusing. Don’t you think that’s amusing?” she asked her invisible friend.

I concealed my annoyance, and said, “I couldn’t help but notice a creature down the way. Do you happen to know what it is?”

She leaned across the table and listened to her invisible friend. Did he speak in ghostly whispers? She studied me. The humor had left her and the weight in her eyes seemed more pronounced.

“You appear edgy,” she said.

“Quite the opposite,” I said.

“No. No. You’re too…. What happened?”

“After the ceremony I took a stroll. My swift elevation, all these accolades, I needed time to think. I hate to admit it, but now I’m lost.”

“You wear the apparel. Yes, you have the deathblade, the boots.” She tilted her head to listen and soon nodded in seeming agreement. “You lack the cold-bloodedness of former Darklings. Your eyes are-”

An invisible chair scraped back. As if to match it, the woman stood in alarm. “No!” she cried, turning toward her invisible friend. “Stay. I need your-”

A door slammed, one I couldn’t see.

She muttered a curse, eyed me. “He’s sure to cover his bets. His position here is precarious at best. He has to maintain good relations with the maenads.”

“Madam,” I said, “you’ve misread the situation.”

“Hm,” she said. “-Call me Lorelei.”

“Where did he go?”

“Clearly, something went wrong with your pledging. That’s why you’re asking about the beast. You want to leave, and in a hurry.” She spoke in a rush and her thoughts seemed to tumble one after another.

I rested my hand on the knife and strode nearer. I didn’t like the accuracy of her thoughts.

She sat down and weighed the dice in her palm. She eyed me coolly. “I must keep my hands clean. The priestess is fastidious concerning protocol. Yet I can answer a few questions. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

“Among other things,” I said.

“Oh?”

This Lorelei didn’t fit. Her costume, her manner, even this dice playing…it implied…I wasn’t sure what. “Madam, the truth is that I lack certain memories.”

“Indeed,” Lorelei said, and there was curiosity in her eyes.

“Before I proceed with other matters, I want to remember my past. I felt coming here would stir those memories.”

“Here?” she asked. “In the dungeons?”

“No. The castle.”

She rubbed her pointed chin. She had elfin features. “The priestess has been charged by the Moon Lady to.…” Lorelei grinned. “You’ve made me curious. You want lost memories?”

“I’ve found that firm decisions are the best. Before I pledge to the Moon Lady, I want to remember what I’ve forgotten.”

“Oh, cleverly put. Yes. I like that. I also find it interesting that you’re sly enough to confide in me. But then Darklings are said to have the luck of the Damned. Hm. I’m sure she meant you to look at the pool eventually.” Lorelei tapped the table with her fingertips. “Will you trust me?”

“…To a point,” I said. Not at all , I thought.

She laughed. She had white teeth. “I understand. Come.” She headed toward a hidden door.

After a moment’s hesitation, I followed.

“Madam,” I whispered, “I do not wish to appear churlish. Yet even less do I wish to be brought like a fool into the priestess’ presence.”

We crept through a secret passageway dusty with misuse and thick with webs. Lorelei carried a candle, its flicker our only light.

“What troubles you?” she whispered.

“Doubt,” I said.

“Concerning?”

“Why you should help me.”

“That’s reasonable enough. So let me put you at ease. First, you appear to be unique.” Lorelei held up a hand to forestall any questions. “I’ve seen…certain situations before so that current events trouble me.” She glanced up at my face. “Old Father Night troubles me. I’d rather the Moon Lady-” She smiled oddly. “The priestess understands my antipathy toward him and thus attempts to persuade me to the Moon Lady’s course. But perhaps there is a third way. I’ve always been partial to third ways, the reason I am who I am.”