JESSICA OPENS HER eyes to flames flickering in the gloom. She can sense damp in her nostrils, mingled with the pungent odor of burning fuel. Aside from the whisper of the flames blazing at the tips of the wooden posts, the room is utterly still.
Her eyelids feel heavy. But she doesn’t hurt anywhere. She feels as light as a butterfly resting on a lily pad. A few meters away, a large red blanket is spread across the floor, covering something underneath.
“Jessica von Hellens,” a woman’s voice says behind her.
Jessica replies almost against her will. “What?”
“Welcome.”
Jessica can’t see anyone. She tries to look and discovers that her head is locked in a wooden neck support that prevents her from turning her head.
De primo, fratribus et sororibus.
Jessica hooks her fingers; her wrists press against restraints.
Meanwhile, a group of half-naked people appears. They walk past her to either side of the chair she’s trapped in. There are four, five, six, eight of them. They’re wearing black capes; hoods cover their faces. A quiet rustle echoes as the bare feet shuffle across the stone floor.
Now Jessica realizes she’s wearing a black evening dress. A pair of high heels has been placed next to her feet on the floor. Her thoughts begin to clear. Her breathing feels shallow; the air catches in her throat. “What’s going on?”
“Be still, Jessica,” a woman’s voice says.
Jessica stares at the thin naked body under the cape; the drooping breasts are streaked with fat blue veins.
Then the woman raises her frail hand and slides back her hood. The smile revealed beneath the disguise is tender and a touch absentminded. Just like a moment ago in the bedroom.
“I’m not sure if we’ve ever been properly introduced. My name is Camilla Adlerkreutz.” The woman takes a step closer to the chair Jessica is sitting in. The others remain standing in place. Jessica allows her eyes to wander across the naked bodies. The group consists of both men and women. “You must have many questions.”
Jessica’s tongue feels heavy, and there’s a strange industrial taste in her mouth. Jessica closes her eyes. Everything is confusing. It’s hard to pin down her thoughts.
“I want to leave,” she says softly. “I want to see Erne.”
“I know we don’t have much time. My own time in particular is running out,” Camilla Adlerkreutz says, then steps aside so Jessica can see across the room. A painting of a beautiful raven-haired woman hangs on the far wall. “Do you see it? It could just as easily be of you.”
She’s right; the resemblance is astonishing.
“But it’s not you, Jessica. It’s me.” Some of the warmth in her voice has dissipated.
“I want to leave,” Jessica whispers.
“You want to leave. The problem is, Jessica, that you don’t know what you want. You’re just like your mother.” Camilla Adlerkreutz takes a few steps toward Jessica and stiffly kneels before her. “She was a beautiful, unspoiled soul, but she was also a stubborn bitch who turned her back on us.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Jessica says. She realizes her breathing has grown rapid and shallow.
“Of course not, sweetheart. How could you . . . ? Like your mother, you have been blessed with a mind of extraordinary qualities. With a brain that simply refuses to be ruled by banalities. With understanding that repels society’s force-fed truths.” Camilla Adlerkreutz raises her hand theatrically to her forehead. Her movements are fluid; the frail, wrinkled hand rises into the air and then returns to stroke the gray hair.
“My mother?”
“You still see her, don’t you? Late at night when you can’t sleep? We—me and my sisters and brothers here . . . The actions we have taken over the past two days may strike you as heartless, but in reality, all we want is a better tomorrow. That is what we represent. A better tomorrow. Every single one of the brothers and sisters you see standing before you has sworn to protect this ideology to the bitter end.”
“What the hell—,” Jessica stammers.
“Would you care to take over from here, frater?”
Camilla Adlerkreutz shuts her eyes, and the man standing at the far right edge reaches for his hood and slips it back, revealing his face. Although she has never seen him in the flesh, Jessica recognizes him.
Roger Koponen’s pupils are as big as plates, and his face is bright red. He looks as if he might explode at any second.