Chapter IX

In which Afton makes a startling discovery

The boy bolted up the slope, leaving a shower of pebbles trickling down behind him. His heart was beating wildly. Alec listened to the tantalizing rhythm as it receded further and further away. When it disappeared, he leaned his head back against the ground. So much for today's youth.

He wondered what Jane was doing. Was she safe? Would he know if she wasn't? Would something tear apart and die inside him the moment she ceased to exist? He believed it true. And since he didn't feel any gaping hole or agony inside him, he took that to mean that Jane was alright.

Then where was she? Where were the others? Why hadn't Demetri tracked him down already? Did the enemy coven take his sister captive as well and Demetri was tracking her down first? Did they hurt her like they hurt him?

"If you have done anything to harm Jane, I will tear out your limbs, set them on fire and roast you over them. The sky is my witness that you will die screaming," he vowed.

The night sky above was silent, its scattered stars glittering. It was on such a night that they snuck in the palace of an elderly Russian princess to take a necklace that Jane liked. They never referred to it as stealing – they just took things they liked to add to their collection. They liked these little challenges. Scaling walls to reach that open third story window, the moon above veiled in clouds, their light steps on the rich plush carpet of the boudoir, the precious glint of gemstones. He remembered Jane daintily picking up this ring or that necklace and trying them on in the princess' huge gilded mirror, looking like a blue blood herself. He remembered that night because just as they were climbing out the window, through a caprice of fate, the nail holding the mirror suddenly gave up the fight and the great big thing came crashing down in a scream of shards.

They had just enough time to see old Princess Sorokina pull aside the curtains of her bed, revealing not only herself but also her young maid, quite naked. Alec was so surprised, he stepped on Jane's head. They let themselves fall and laughed all the way home, chasing each other through gardens heavy with roses, splashing in ornate fountains, sliding on roofs, running through streets, living a mad kind of freedom that can only be had at night, when all the world is yours.

His moment of melancholy was cut short by the military drum-like sound of a heartbeat. Someone was coming. Light steps, worn-out shoewear. Knows the area. Soon enough, a figure appeared at the top of the slope. Alec wasn't taking any chances this time.

"Help! Help me, I'm stuck!" he cried in Russian.

The heartbeat turned out to belong to a girl of about eight. She was thin and delicate, with hair the color of dandelions. She looked at him, her eyes becoming smaller and her mouth crumpling.

"Help! Please help me, I nearly drowned!" called Alec.

The girl looked very uncomfortable. Alec knew he must have been a sorry sight, a soaked torso half covered in mud and pebbles, his bangs getting into his eyes, dirt in his ears – a far cry from the vision he used to be.

"Please, I need to call my family, I need to get to a telephone."

"Don't have a telephone," the girl said simply.

"Do you know someone who has? Hey… hey, listen to me please," – she had been staring at his body – "who has a phone where you live?"

"I uh, I don't know," she answered, avoiding his gaze.

Alec knew that he was losing her.

"My name is Aleksandr. I had a really bad accident. I fell out of my parents' car into the water."

"Did you hurt yourself when you fell?" she pointed at his body.

"No, I was… I was born like that. Just bad luck."

"How do you do anything?"

"I don't do much," admitted Alec with all the bitterness of someone who could once somersault up a mountain and now couldn't. "That's why I need my mom and dad."

"Where are they?"

"Not very far away. We were camping when I fell. If I can get to a phone, I can call my dad and he'll be here right away."

"Maybe they'll find you soon."

In the privacy of his brain, Alec used a swear word he hadn't used in two hundred years.

"I don't think so – it's getting really dark out here."

The girl seemed to agree, as she took a few uncertain steps back, said "I'll tell my mommy about this," and ran away. Alec pursed his lips and then smacked his head against the ground in frustration. Nobody was going to believe a little girl telling how she found an armless, legless boy by the river.

He had to consider an alternative.

The night was calm and crystal clear, with a few stars dotting the quiet sky. Alec lay there for a long time, listening to the choir of crickets and the sound of the river. At one point, a mangy-looking weasel slinked its way closer to him, and Alec lunged like a snake to sink its teeth into it. Drinking the few gulps of weasel blood felt like drinking hot, stale sweat. Alec regretted every second of it but he knew that he couldn't afford to pass over free blood in his situation. After he finished drinking, he flicked his head and threw the small body into the water. Then he was all by himself once again. I can't stay like this. If the morning sun catches me here, the next person who comes across me is going to have a heart attack.

He considered his options. He could go back in the water and hope he ended up in a better spot next time, but too many things had gone wrong in the past day for him to find the idea appealing. So instead, he tried climbing up the slope. He twisted and turned, using his head to help pull his body up inch by inch. He felt small and ridiculous, and by the time he reached the top, two hours later, he was both filthy and humiliated. For someone who could do ballet on top of a weather vane, this was agony. He wasn't in any pain, but inside he burned as if someone had pressed a red hot fire poker into his flesh.

The view that greeted his eyes was unremarkable: it looked like the middle of uneventful nowhere. High hills in the distance, plenty of trees and weeds everywhere. He spotted a weeping willow nearby and rolled his way there, feeling somewhat more sure from behind the curtain of low branches. He spent the rest of the night analyzing the map of the region he had in his mind and trying to figure out where he was. It was an impossible endeavor, and by sunrise he had almost given up. He pledged to wait until the sun reached a certain point and then to move on, as he was too worried about the enemy finding him.

He did not have to wait long however, because after a few hours he recognized the familiar heartbeat of the girl he had met the previous evening. Only this time she was not alone. Two other heartbeats were drumming their rhythm alongside hers. The three soon came into view: the girl was accompanied by two boys, who couldn't have been more different. One boy looked to be closer to her age and was in dire need of a haircut. He was tall and stick-thin, with a dirty face and even dirtier clothing. Everything about him had spent too much time in the sun: his brown face was peeling in places, his hair was very dry and his shirt looked like it had been looted from a scarecrow. The other was younger, short and sunburned, with a few wisps of straw-blond hair on his round head. His face was puffy and pink, and he kept chewing on a lollipop stick that bobbed up and down according to the whims of his mouth. He reminded Alec strongly of a ripe tomato.

The irony that his fate rested in the hands of such a colorful bunch did not escape Alec.

The three first went to the place where he had been, by the water. He could hear the girl say "He was here yesterday!" The scarecrow boy called her a liar and started chanting the word until the girl threw something at him. Alec briefly pondered his course of action before shouting in Russian as loudly as he could: "Help! Over here, help!"

The children gathered around the weeping willow and cautiously poked their heads through the curtain of branches. Alec could see the wide-mouthed astonishment of the two boys, as well as the triumph in the girl's eyes.

"Hello," began Alec tentatively.

They were all staring at him, visibly (if morbidly) fascinated. Four baby birds could have fit into the tomato boy's mouth. Scarecrow poked Alec lightly with his stick.

"Stop that," frowned Alec.

He poked him again.

Never had Alec missed his arms so much.

The dandelion girl made an annoyed grab for the stick. There was a brief squabble, at the end of which the stick remained with Scarecrow. Tomato was still gaping at Alec.

I'm doomed, thought Alec mournfully.

"Who are you?" asked Scarecrow.

"Name's Aleksandr. I've been in an accident and got separated from my parents. Do you know someone with a phone?"

"Did you lose your arms and legs in the accident?" asked the boy.

"No, that's how I was born."

"What happened?"

"I was born this way."

"Why are you so dirty?"

"I was being nosy and annoying and someone older than me pushed me off a cliff," grumbled Alec, projecting a little.

"Who pushed you off a cliff?" asked Dandelion.

Alec did not have time for that.

"I do not have time for this," he announced. "Can you tell someone with a phone to come here?"

"My brother has a phone," offered Tomato.

Alec perked up. "That's great! Where is your brother?"

"Moscow."

"That's no good, we need someone from here. Where is here, by the way? In which village do you all live?"

"Aralkov," came the answer from all three.

Alec took a few seconds to peruse his mental map. He thought he recognized the name, a tiny dot on the map, close to the Podkumok river. If he could get the children to help him, then he had a good chance of getting to a telephone and being reunited with Jane and the others. The children, however, seemed to care little for his prospects of survival, as they were showing signs of wanting to leave. Tomato was whining about being hungry and chewed on his lollipop stick with gusto. Scarecrow began looking like he agreed with his little fellow, when Alec tried his most daring approach yet:

"Wait! Don't leave. I will tell you a big secret if you agree to help me."

The children seemed intrigued. Alec put on a grave face for emphasis and said:

"I am a fairy prince."

All three let out a mixture of snorts and incredulous laughter.

"Suuuuure!"

It wasn't at all what Alec had been looking for, but it would have do to. He rolled away from the trunk of the willow, past the swaying curtain of branches and into the morning sun. The children let out a collective gasp as they witnessed Alec's skin sparkle and shine in the light. Tomato's lollipop stick fell from his lips. Scarecrow blinked rapidly, as if having a seizure. Finally, Dandelion shrieked in delight: "You are a fairy! A real one!"

Satisfied with the result, Alec rolled back to his tree trunk, blew his bangs out of his eyes and continued: "I come from the Kingdom of Fairies. I was on my way to... pick the most beautiful flowers to make a flower crown for my princess' wedding, when I was attacked by Baba Yaga."

The trio looked horrified. "Baba Yaga is real?"

"Yes," nodded Alec gravely. "She is jealous of the beautiful princess and so she attacked me, her groom, and left me as I now sit before you, unable to return to my beloved. If you help me call my fairy friends, I will tell my princess about your kind hearts and good deeds, and she will reward you."

Dandelion was enraptured. "You're getting married? How does your princess look like?"

"She is the same age as myself, and has beautiful green eyes. She likes flowers and dances heavenly. The whole court is wrapped around her dainty little finger."

Scarecrow was a little more practical in his inquiries. "What will this lady give us if we help you?"

"You all get one wish. So think carefully."

"I want a sack of candy THIS big!" Tomato said and opened his arms for emphasis.

"I want a wheelbarrow full of money," decided Scarecrow.

"I want my mom to get healthy again," said Dandelion, a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

"What's wrong with your mother? Is she sick?"

"She fell off a ladder and can't walk right anymore. Her hips hurt a lot."

"I see. I am sorry to hear that. My princess can give you some magic dust from her wings, and that will cure your mother right away."

"I'm going to buy a bike like Piotr's, only it's gonna be better and faster - but wait," pondered Scarecrow cautiously. "Won't Baba Yaga come after us if we help you?"

"I don't want to be eaten!" cried Tomato.

Even Dandelion seemed unsettled by the prospect.

"Baba Yaga went back to the Fairy Kingdom because she thinks I died. How will she know that you helped me? Nobody will tell her, and she will think that I just got very lucky. It happens a lot in the Fairy Kingdom, we tend to have good fortune."

"You couldn't have been that lucky... I mean, look at you," pointed out Scarecrow, not unreasonably.

"True, but look at it this way: I'm alive and I met you three. Isn't that a heap of good luck?" Alec smiled brightly at the children, all dimples and pearly white teeth, boyish charm and innocence. And despite his disheveled appearance, Alex looked like the boy you wanted to go grasshopper hunting with, or the kind of gallant older brother who would give you piggy-back rides and beat up all the bullies. He knew exactly which muscles to stretch to form a disarming, earnest smile, how to crinkle his eyes and cock his head for the most picturesque pose. The children exchanged a few glances, looking intermittently at the fairy prince. Finally, Dandelion spoke up: "I will help you. I want my mom to get well."

Her vote of confidence seemed to draw the others in, and they immediately declared their support. The logistics of the operation, however, posed somewhat of a problem.

"We should carry him to the village," offered Scarecrow, only for Alec to say "As a fairy, I'm much too heavy for you to carry. And also, I can't be seen by grown-ups. I sparkle in the sun, remember?"

"We could cover you with something and drag you home," mused Dandelion.

Alec smiled knowingly. "Try moving me."

The three approached him. Scarecrow wrapped his stick thin arms around Alec's torso and tried to move him, but could barely lift him an inch. He instructed Tomato to help him, to little effect. Even with Dandelion's aid, Alec's heavy vampire body posed a challenge.

"Why are you so damn heavy?" huffed Scarecrow, looking as red as Tomato, who was hyperventilating. Poppies bloomed in Dandelion's cheeks.

"Fairies weigh more than normal humans," explained Alec. "It's because we come from a different world."

The trio marveled over this fairy fact for a while, after which Scarecrow concluded: "We have to get a phone and bring it here. I think I know where to get one."

"If you don't find one, come back with a pen and a piece of paper and I will give you a number which you can call," promised Alec.

"Why do fairies use phones? If you are magic, shouldn't you have butterflies and ladybugs carry your messages, like in the fairy tales?" Dandelion wondered, forcing Alec to make yet another mental foray into world-building territory.

"All my magical attendants were killed by Baba Yaga," he sighed, bowing his head. "Not every butterfly and ladybug is magical, and the ones who were in my service have all perished."

Dandelion blinked the tears from her eyes and sniffled. Her two friends bowed their heads solemnly for a few moments, before Scarecrow's shot up and he announced their departure. "We'll be back as soon as we can," he told Alec, then strode away, trailed by the other two. Alec watched them wearily as they melted away into the greenery. A week ago I was home with Jane. He closed his eyes and thought back to the cool corridors of the Volterra fortress, silent and ancient. He found himself missing the sound of his footsteps on the stone tiles, the taste of the air on his tongue. It tasted old and comforting. Right now his tongue tasted like mud. He wanted to be back in that place, filled with the sound of Jane's humming and Felix's laughter, the brotherhood of vampires for whom all that the centuries brought on was just more inner jokes. It was safe and dignified and uplifting, the closest vampire kind had come to a civilization. The solemnity and law of a throne instead of bare feet in forest soil. I'm honored to be a part of it and call it my home. But where are they? It's been too long, what's keeping them? Demetri should have found me already. Could it be that he's having trouble because I'm not in one piece anymore?

He thought back at the few times when they hunted vampires who had lost a limb. One Venetian merchant had escaped their first snare and lost a leg in the process, but it had been burned and Demetri had no trouble tracking him down. Another had torn off his left arm and used it as bait in the hopes of throwing Demetri off the track, but they found him in the end. Alec had not been involved in that hunt, and cursed himself for not paying attention to the details of that case.

The wilderness around him was peaceful. He could hear insects crawling around the willow trunk, birds flying overhead, and the soothing sound of the river. He closed his eyes and summoned his mist around him like a shroud, ready to expand and catch whoever approached, if needed. And thus, like a spider nestled in his web of sleep, Alec waited.

The door of the old manor creaked as the vampire stepped inside the musty foyer. The modest country manor had once been charming, but years of benign neglect had chipped away much of its beauty. Faded shields and tapestries adorned the walls. An ancient family crest proudly proclaimed a long gone lineage. Afton listened for a while, taking in the air cautiously.

Silence.

He made his way up three very worn steps and through a small corridor, passing an unused kitchen and a dusty sitting room, until he reached a pair of double doors. They creaked as Afton opened them, revealing a dark library. A single line of light was peering through the heavy plush curtains, drawing the contours of a suit of armor. Afton sniffed the air and winced. He rushed to the window and pulled the curtains aside, releasing puffs of dust, which settled on the shabby Persian carpet. The room was cleaner than the rest of the manor, as it was Errol's favorite place. The only exception seemed to be a large pile of coal black ashes in the fireplace. Afton knelt down and gathered some of them in his palm. Vampires lost their scent once they were burned, but he had a grim suspicion in regards to whose remains he was contemplating. The good man had been plump as a partridge even as a vampire. Afton had befriended him when the adventurous Englishman had made Volterra his final stop in his world tour. Errol later confessed that he visited Volterra last because he feared he might not leave it alive and wanted to see the world before he died.

"So why did you visit in the first place if you were so worried? You could have just... not come," Afton had pointed out, to which Errol replied "I once spent six hours in the pouring rain to catch a glimpse of the Duchess of Devonshire, you think I would pass on meeting vampire royalty?"

He had won them all over by bringing rare and exotic souvenirs with him, and Corin spent many hours listening to him talk about his countless travels. Having entered Volterra uncertain of what awaited him, Errol left it triumphantly, laden with gifts and other tokens of friendship, and continued to visit, send letters and curiosities to the Volturi for the next few centuries.

"Alas, poor Errol. Your luck could only carry you so far, my dear fellow," whispered Afton and let the ashes spill from his palm. He then spent some time combing through the library, looking for anything that could give him a clue as to what had transpired. Errol's many journals, written for security in the style of a third person adventure, stopped in the 1950s. He did not have any modern appliances like a cell phone, and the only sign of a struggle was the upturned chair behind his desk. An open book was lying on the desk, with a blue velvet bookmark tucked within its pages. It was a modern atlas, and had several locations marked already. Originally an overweight and asthmatic young man, Errol was ecstatic when he was accidentally turned by his dull-witted sire, as his physical impediments and weight could no longer hinder him from fulfilling his lifelong dream to see the world.

Afton examined the floor, looking for footprints. He could make out the routine trail of Errol's footsteps (his left foot happened to be one size smaller than the right) going to and from bookshelves. After minutes of careful scrutiny, Afton found what he was seeking: a single, faint pair of foreign footsteps, their imprint too modern to have been Errol's, who has stuck to his old-fashioned Oxfords while at home. He traced the movements of the intruder, whom he thought male, and imagined the scene: the fiend sneaks to the library room, Errol sees or hears him and turns around in surprise, knocking down his chair in the movement, the fiend takes step and jumps and... somehow Errol ends up as a fat pile of ashes in his own fireplace. There was no real sign of a fight.

Afton fished out his phone and dialed Chelsea's number. "Hey, honey. I fear we need to sell that painting we were keeping for Errol..."