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The ceremony of transfiguration has not been accomplished successfully in more than a thousand years. Requiring not merely an appropriate, healthy host body as some assume, there is also the emotional and ancestral relationship to consider. As in all things a balance of astronomical, mystical, spiritual, and organic is necessary. Yet the journey to this understanding is a personal one and the Viadine must not interfere with the process. Only within the perfect alignment and acceptance has such a ceremony any hope of success...
——Rahuael, First Chronicler, Viadine Secretorum
* * *
DANDRAE RETURNED TO the castle, going in through a side entrance.
“So you’ve returned.”
Dandrae whirled around and saw Annatoly standing there, watching him. Dandrae tried to shrug off the cloying darkness that surrounded him, remnant of the meeting with Smopheus.
“Will you kill me now?”
“Hardly. I think you still understand little of us if you can ask that. We are not Diadune. We don’t suck the souls of the living. Come with me.”
Offered little choice, Dandrae followed Annatoly to a study on the second floor. The fire was lit and the room was warm, decidedly so after the time spent outside in the late fall chill of the mountains. Annatoly poured Dandrae a drink and handed it to him. “To help warm you.”
“Why do you show me kindness if you know why I’m here?”
“Sit.” Annatoly indicated a chair near the fire. Dandrae stared into the fire, his thoughts and feelings somewhat disconnected. So much chaos. His life was defined by it. He’d met Smopheus by chance outside the Fenice Theater one night. He’d been quite a skilled pickpocket then, but it was one of Smopheus’s associates who’d caught him lifting his watch. Smopheus had laughed and then invited him to dinner. A posh restaurant serving the best food Dandrae had ever had. Better than the street scraps he’d managed to survive on when his last benefactor had flung him into the streets. Smopheus had been so different from the men Dandrae had known. And that had been his downfall. Smopheus’s charisma, which had hidden a deep core of evil, had overwhelmed Dandrae far too quickly. Dandrae had been so needy and he saw the jewels, the fine clothes, the intelligent way he conversed, desiring all of it for himself. By the time he’d realized what was happening, he’d already been lost.
Dandrae was born corrupt as his whore of a mother always told him. Corrupt and worthless. But for a time, at the beginning, he thought maybe she was wrong. Accepting what Smopheus offered, having accepted his fate, was like donning a pair of well-worn shoes. It was warm and conformed easily to his shape.
“You’re flawed,” Annatoly said. “Smopheus has his hooks in you deeply. What errand has he sent you on this time?”
Dandrae shouldn’t be surprised that Annatoly saw the crack in his soul. Annatoly seemed the type of man who saw everything. There was a decided difference though between Annatoly and Smopheus. In this man there was an element of empathy and kindness that was lacking in Smopheus. What would they do to him now? Either way he jumped he was probably dead.
Making a decision that was very unlike any he’d made thus far in his life, Dandrae rose from his chair, then dropped to his knees before Annatoly. There was a beauty and poignancy to Annatoly that went deep and true. He understood in that moment how Carne could have fallen so deeply in love with Annatoly so quickly. Dandrae could only give this man truth—and that was something he was never so compelled to do in his entire life. “Smopheus is too powerful. I’m too weak. I’m not like Carne.”
Annatoly stroked his hand down the side of Dandrae’s face. Dandrae leaned into his healing touch. “Ah, Dandrae, I sense yours was ever a crooked soul. Always so needy.”
“I would fight it if I could, but I know I’m lost. I don’t want to hurt Carne. He’s always treated me decent. I know he doesn’t love me, not the way he loves you, but isn’t there a way to cleanse me—heal me, so I won’t hurt him or you?”
“Smopheus took your blood. He gave you his.” Annatoly placed a hand over Dandrae’s heart. “The Diadune is inside you. Smopheus sensed the weakness, the shadow lurking inside you. The Diadune knew they could use you. I doubt he could have had Carne directly. I sensed the strength and light in him in Paris. He has a moral core—a peculiarity that is unusual for his blood, but still there nevertheless. Perhaps because he’s seventh generation.”
Dandrae leaned back and gazed up at Annatoly. “I know—I always knew. He’s the far better man. And I let him come here like a lamb to the slaughter. Will Fabienne kill him?” He felt unclean—dirtier than he had ever felt before. “I thought—” He couldn’t voice what he’d wanted, what he’d hoped for. It was all wrong. He was wrong. He’d never been a part of this—not really. He was the outsider and he always would be.
He looked to Annatoly, feeling suddenly helpless and alone. He slid his hands up Annatoly’s inner thighs, across his flat abdomen. Dandrae lifted up to press himself closer. “You’re not a man. You’ve never been one.” He slid his hands up over Annatoly’s chest. “But for some reason they didn’t let you die. What’s so special about you, eunuch, that you’ve been granted immortality?”
Annatoly stared into Dandrae’s eyes. “I’m more than you’ll ever know or understand, boy. We gave you a chance, more chance than Smopheus will give you. We give you life and beauty and a full belly. But your flaws are evident to them and they’ll use you to attempt to defeat us.”
“What are you going to do with me?”
“I haven’t decided yet. Fabienne and I have spoken. Neither of us wants to see you dead. Neither one of us wants to see you lost forever. Especially to them. Do you think Smopheus cares what happens to you? Do you think he’ll actually reward you when the deed he’s set you is finished?”
Dandrae was no fool. He knew he was just a means to an end. “No. But they’re my kind, aren’t they?”
“Is that what you think? Is that why you’re drawn to them?”
Dandrae sighed. “It’s easier isn’t it? Like with like? Isn’t that really what it comes down to, what drew you to save Fabienne? There’s a division. The exalted choir. Chosen of the Viadine. But I’m not chosen am I? I’m too...flawed to ever fit in. I have no...gifts to buy my way free.”
“It doesn’t have to be this way.”
“No. Do with me what you will. I’m tired of fighting my own nature. Finish it, Annatoly. You have what you want, so discard the tool that’s been sent to clear the way to your destruction.”
“No. You still have free will, you’re still human. You can alter your course. For now the Diadune merely seek to stop the exchange. Even Smopheus knows he has no hope of touching the core of the gios.”
“They know you won’t kill me.” Dandrae marveled at that sudden insight. These men did not kill for pleasure, nor because someone necessarily deserved it. There was purpose to each act. The Viadine were about redemption, not destruction.
Dandrae reached for the stiletto he always carried with him. Annatoly captured his attention.
“No,” Dandrae gasped. His body felt light as a feather as he was lifted from the ground, his eyes going wide with shock. And then he found himself in a dark cell below the ground. Annatoly stood outside the prison door.
“You’ll stay here until the ceremony is completed. And then we’ll decide what your fate’s to be.”
“You can’t just leave me here.”
“I can do that and much more. But for now, this is what Fabienne and I have agreed.
And then he vanished and Dandrae was left alone. Pulling the stiletto had been an instinctive act, but had he meant to use it on Annatoly or himself? That’s what Smopheus and his kind did—the Diadune used humans to accomplish the nefarious deeds they were barred from achieving themselves. He dragged a blanket around his shoulders and huddled in a corner on the cot. He was used to places like this, scratching out a corner for himself, only counting on himself for protection. Perhaps this was the best place for him—at least here he could do no harm to anyone.
::Don’t worry, Dandrae. It’s not over. When the time is right, you will be freed to do what must be done.::
Dandrae shivered uncontrollably. He was not a man, he was a puppet. And when the time came, he’d be forced to do exactly as the Diadune demanded. Destroy the only men who’d ever shown him kindness. His own ancestral blood would let him do nothing else. A black soul was a black soul and there was no way around that.
It was dark when Dandrae awoke, his heart thundering inside his chest. He tried to fight the power that descended over him, but it was too strong—and he was too weak. The door creaked open.
::The masks. Destroy the masks and you will have immortality and riches beyond your dreams. Everything you’ve ever wished for will be yours.::
Dandrae was driven. He felt the presence of the Diadune in his blood as it surged hotly through his body. He dropped the blanket and rose to his feet. He was ravenous, but not for food, he desired the life he’d only ever witnessed from afar. Hungry for power and money. That was the only thing that could be counted on. That’s what he craved more than anything. And would do whatever was required to acquire it. He stepped from the cell and made his way up to where he knew the masks were kept. All he had to do was destroy them and then it would all be his.
* * *
FABIENNE FELT THE HEAVY weight of betrayal in the air. With the speed of a hawk sighting its quarry, he flew to his apartments in the tower. Where his songbirds nested. Where everything of value to him was contained. Where the ceremonial masks lay in a locked case awaiting the appointed hour. Waiting for the right donor.
The door rocked back on its hinges. He sprinted across the room toward Dandrae, who was about to reach for one of the masks. They both crashed to the floor, wrestling back and forth, struggling to gain control. They collided with a table, sending papers and tools tumbling to the floor. But Dandrae was no match for Fabienne and soon the immortal had Dandrae pinned beneath him.
“You’ve let them win,” Fabienne rasped. “It’s no longer possible to help you.”
“You can’t stop it,” Dandrae said as he writhed beneath Fabienne. “They’ll get to you. No matter what you do to me. They won’t allow the abomination to occur.”
“Abomination! They are the abomination. They’re the ones who would destroy the balance that has lasted for eternity. Everything that makes it tolerable here for the fallen on earth. This isn’t about stopping me, or stopping the transfer. It’s about irreparably wounding the Viadine and skewing the balance.”
“You don’t care about me. All you want is Carne. All you care about is your revenge. Just finish it.”
“You would have had your place, Dandrae. I wouldn’t have shut you out. But it’s too late.”
Annatoly rushed into the room. “How did you get free?”
It was Fabienne who responded. “I told you they’ve become too strong. We have to deal with this once and for all.”
Fabienne got to his feet and dragged Dandrae up.
“You’d never have given me real power. Smopheus would,” Dandrae snarled.
“Because I know what you would have done with it. I thought there was a chance, but I was wrong. You’re their minion and there’s no going back. You’ll have to die.”
“No,” Carne walked into the room. “You can’t kill him.” He looked at Fabienne and then to Annatoly. Fabienne felt the strong connection between Annatoly and Carne.
“He would have ruined everything,” Fabienne said.
There was something in Carne’s demeanor. A quiet determination. A power and energy to be respected. He laid a hand on Fabienne’s arm. “Let him go. He can’t do anything. Send him away if you must, but don’t murder him. Hasn’t there been enough of that?”
“You’d have us do what with him? Just say, ‘thanks for visiting,’ and sent him on his way?”
Fabienne watched Carne as he studied Dandrae. Carne turned his full attention to Dandrae. “I never gave you what you really needed or wanted. You always knew, didn’t you?”
“That I was never good enough? Yes. And I knew they’d come for you.” Dandrae stiffened his jaw. “I took what I could get. But in the end I would have done exactly as Smopheus ordered me to do. He said he wanted you stopped, and I would’ve helped him do it. I wanted what he could give me. I know, because I’ve always lived with a twisted soul. And I know people can’t be counted on. It’s only money that puts food in the belly. ‘Corrupt’ my mother always said. I don’t belong here. I never did. I tried, but it wasn’t any good. It never could be.” He stared Carne in the eyes and Fabienne saw the sheen of defeat. “Do with me what you will.”
Carne turned to Fabienne. “He hasn’t been brought to this alone. Can’t you feel the discord inside him? It’s the blood that’s driving him—Diadune blood. Is there a chance the stain can be cleansed?” Carne looked at Annatoly. “If anyone can help him, you can do it. I know you can.”
Annatoly finally nodded. “I’ll see what can be done. For you, I’ll try. He’s right, Fabienne, we took him in and we can’t just cut him loose like so much refuse. It’s not our way. He doesn’t deserve that.”
“Then what do you suggest?”
“Are you willing to let me try, Dandrae? Or we can send you away? But they’re likely to kill you once you step outside the gate. What do you want?”
“You’d do that? After what I tried to do?”
Fabienne glanced at Annatoly. They both looked to Carne. Carne, who had suddenly become the nucleus to which they were all drawn. The heart of this matter. And Fabienne saw something else quite clearly for the first time.
“No, it can’t be,” he murmured to himself, trying to deny what he knew was the only answer. “Not him.”
“What is it, Fabienne?” Annatoly asked.
Fabienne shook his head. “Not now.” It was something that Fabienne could not ask—would not. Nothing was the way it should be. How had everything changed so suddenly? All because of one night.
“So be it,” he said more to himself than to Annatoly. Annatoly took Dandrae by the arm, then he and Dandrae vanished.
Fabienne turned to Carne. Carne was looking at the masks. He walked over to the case. “What are they for? What is this ceremony?”
Fabienne found he couldn’t dissemble any longer. “They’re for an exchange.”
“What sort of exchange?” Carne placed a hand on the glass case. Lodo began to sing. The mechanical bird sitting next to Lodo echoed its song.
“Of souls,” Fabienne said. There. The bald truth of it. And saying it now, like this, seemed crazy and twisted somehow.
Carne looked at him. “Souls.” And then he saw understanding in Carne’s expression. “I see. You’ve planned this for a long time.”
“Centuries.”
“Who’ll wear the other mask?”
“I haven’t chosen yet.” But he lied and something told him Carne knew it. Fabienne looked at the masks. Was it all a dream? “I’m a fool.”
“Why do you say that?”
“What was stolen from me centuries ago can’t be replaced. One can’t go back.” He looked at Carne. “I didn’t kill your ancestors. They simply followed their own destiny by their own hand.”
“And what about me?” Carne asked as he stepped toward Fabienne. “What will you do with me now that I’m here?”
“I thought I knew, but it’s not so simple. You should go. You’re free, Carne. Go live your life as you were meant to do. I-I forgive you.” There. It was done.
“So you’d make this sacrifice? Do you think it’s that easy? Just to walk away now that—” Carne didn’t finish what he was going to say and Fabienne had to wonder.
“You aren’t like them. What happened isn’t your fault.”
“Perhaps not, but still. If there’s something I can do.”
“You’ve sacrificed enough. You’ve been manipulated into coming here.”
Carne reached up to rub his neck. “I’m connected now and that’s not going to change.”
“Perhaps Annatoly can do something about that. If he can help Dandrae, perhaps he can help you as well.”
Carne moved closer to Fabienne. “Perhaps I don’t want to be helped. Whatever happens, whatever decisions are made, I’m not leaving here. Annatoly, you, even Dandrae, mean too much. Maybe I’m just where I want to be. Maybe this is what I’m destined to do.”
“Stop. You don’t know what you’re talking about. You have no idea what you’d be giving up,” Fabienne said.
“Or what I’d be gaining. Do you hate me so much, Fabienne? Is it irreconcilable?” Carne asked, looking deeply into Fabienne’s eyes.
“Hate you? Does this seem like I hate you?” he asked just before he crushed Carne’s lips with his own. If he agreed to let Carne wear the mask it would change everything.
