Chapter Thirteen: Revelations and Revenge
by thelittletree
After the weekend, the trickle of hunting season customers quickly became a steady stream. And Elira knew through experience that it was only going to get busier. Especially since a streak of illness had run its course though the Kalm-fangs the previous year, drastically reducing the number covered by the percent available for hunting. Many hunters had come back empty handed, so she thought it likely that everyone would be eager to get out there, just in case the unexpected struck again.
As the days flew by, the stock of shotguns and rifles they'd spent a month making began to rapidly disappear. Eventually, Elira was forced to take Vincent from forging orders and put him to the task of forging the standard hunting models. She even found herself staying after closing for a few hours to work on their stock herself. She hadn't expected it to be quite *this* busy.
When she finally remembered the promise she'd made to Mr. Geddes, the museum curator, she thought she would have to cancel. By the end of the week they would be too busy to be able to spare both herself and Vincent, plus Benita who would have to come to the front. But in the end she decided just to bump the appointment to a sooner date, before they hit the peak of sales. Otherwise, it was likely that they wouldn't get back to Odriam for weeks.
Mr. Geddes was more than willing to accommodate, and the next day Elira and Vincent found themselves on a train, seated together at Elira's insistence, heading out again to sector seven.
The museum was busy with a tour when they arrived. A woman in a blue uniform was talking in crisp tones to a class of well-dressed students who she was showing around the galleries. A few of the students turned as Elira and Vincent arrived but, after a heartbeat, they returned their attention to their guide.
It wasn't long before Mr. Geddes was descending the stairs to meet them. "So nice to see you again Miss Maddison, Mr. Valentine." He smiled genially. "I assume you'll want to get started as soon as possible so you can get back to your shop in good time. The museum is having a class tour today, but I have instructed Mrs. Linolet to stay away from the weapons displays to allow you to work."
"Thank you," Elira replied, genuinely grateful. She didn't want this to take all day; the job of looking over each weapon and scribbling out a report was time consuming enough.
"Well then," Mr. Geddes continued, clasping his hands together, "if you'll follow me."
Elira couldn't help but be awed again by the impressive collection of ancient guns. To have all of these historical weapons in one place was almost more than she could handle. As she and Vincent moved from case to case, poring over the models, she found herself looking in almost constant anticipation for something she recognized from the gunsmith's book. Each weapon seemed more magnificently crafted for its time period than the last.
As she finished the write-up on a particularly old gun they'd decided was better off not being restored, Elira glanced up. Vincent raised an eyebrow in a silent question and she nodded. Quickly, he moved on and she followed a step behind.
The guns in the next case were unarguably ancient. As Elira stared at them her eyes were eventually drawn to the weapon in the middle. By far the most battle-scarred out of the group, it possessed a kind of mysterious beauty beneath the tarnish of years. What kind of gun was it? It didn't look like anything she'd seen before. She guessed that it was *very* old. A closer scrutiny showed her some scratchings on the butt that seemed too well-molded to be blemishes. She decided that they were letters of some kind, in some other language, and she looked to Vincent to ask what he thought about them.
But Vincent seemed even more mesmerized by the gun than she. Frowning as if in deep concentration, he stared at the weapon with wide eyes and parted lips. And then a sudden shudder ran through him. Elira watched in concern as he stumbled back a step and doubled over with his hands to his ears.
"Vincent?" She dropped to a knee and tried to look him in the face. His eyes were closed tightly and he'd clenched his teeth. "Vincent! Are you all right?"
He didn't answer. Elira could almost believe that he was hearing something she couldn't. Not sure how to help him, she grabbed him by the shoulders and shook him a little. "Vincent, what's wrong?"
Suddenly, he opened his eyes and Elira noticed with a twinge of fear that his pupils were lost within the scarlet of his irises. A moment later, he jerked backward out of her grip and bumped soundly against a glass case. He whirled as if the case was an attacker, and then, upon seeing no one, he bolted out of the room before Elira could prepare a shout.
It was a moment before she was able to react. And then, dropping the clipboard Mr. Geddes had given her for her reports, she raced after him. When she reached the stairway leading to the first floor, however, she slowed. He was nowhere in sight and she couldn't hear the sound of running footsteps. Fearing the worst, that somehow Chaos had forced itself into the open, she hopped rapidly down the stairs with more agility than she thought she possessed and stopped to glance around again. Where was he?
"Excuse me! Miss!"
Elira turned to find a young man, probably no more than a couple of years her younger, addressing her from among a small group of the students she and Vincent had passed earlier. "Are you looking for your friend? The one in black you came in with?"
She hesitated for a moment before nodding dumbly.
"He left the building in a hurry just a minute ago, out the front door."
Elira ran out of the museum, calling out a belated "Thank you!" over her shoulder.
She was surprised to find Vincent's door locked when she arrived at his apartment, though the eviction notice for 'excessive noise and willful destruction of property' taped to the wood didn't astonish her in the least. In confusion, frustration, and not a little panic, she tore the notice down and threw it at her feet.
Where would he go? He'd always gone to his apartment before. What other places were deserted and safe from prying eyes?
She was out of breath when she reached the park. Jogging in through the rusted gate, she saw immediately that Vincent was not around the old stump. Quickly, she pushed her way through the brush to her right, ignoring the thorns that scraped the backs of her hands and plucked at her clothing.
The children's park was deserted, too. Her panicked pulse was just beginning to pound in her ears when Elira remembered the tree. She glanced up and was relieved beyond words when she found him there, seated on the lowest branch.
He was motionless with his back pressed against the trunk, his knees drawn up and his head bowed. Elira marveled at his balance. At first she wasn't sure whether or not to disturb him, but it became a moot point as he began to speak. Without lifting his head, he asked, "Did I hurt you?"
"No. You just ran."
Vincent nodded an acknowledgment.
"Did you transform?"
He shook his head. "No, but I think Chaos saw something through my eyes that...frightened it. I could hear it screaming."
Elira felt a pang of pity for him. "Was it those letters on the gun? Is that what it saw?"
Vincent glanced up to meet her eyes, and she was surprised how composed he looked. "You noticed the Cetra runes, too. They might have had something to do with it."
Elira raised her eyebrows in surprise. "You can read Cetra runes?"
Vincent shook his head again, and then swiveled until he sat with his legs dangling from the branch. "I've seen the written language before, though, and the runes carved into the gun were familiar enough to make me suspicious."
"But you don't know what the runes might mean?"
"No. I don't know what they mean, and I don't know what they meant to Chaos." He lowered his eyes as he continued, "I also don't know if it's wise for me to return to the museum."
"I think you might be right."
The train station was nearly empty. As the cars headed for Virna pulled up, Vincent gestured to the entrance, motioning for Elira to precede him. But Elira shook her head.
"I'm going to go back to the museum first to apologize to Mr. Geddes and arrange another time where we can look over his weapons."
Vincent nodded after a moment and stepped onto the train without her. Elira watched him through the windows until the cars pulled away.
Elira regretted her half-truth once the train was out of sight, though she questioned whether Vincent had guessed already the words she hadn't said. But, if she'd said outright that she was going back to the museum to get some information on those runes, he might have felt obliged to return with her. Shoving her pre-arranged ticket back to Virna into a pocket, she stepped up to the ticket booth and bought a ticket for the next train to Odriam. The train took less than five minutes to arrive and the trip was short and undisturbed. Still, Elira was glad to get off at the station in Odriam, out of the stuffy car and into the light and fresh air of the day. She was of a mind at first to hail a taxi, but after less than a moment's reflection she decided that she would walk instead.
Mr. Jaron, the guard at the gate, let Elira in without the usual banter, though he did warn her in low tones that Mr. Geddes had been looking for her. She ignored him, as usual, and began to plan her apology.
Mr. Geddes was not angry, though, when she found him. Rather, he was relieved to find her safe. "I was afraid something had happened," he chuckled as they stood by the entrance doors.
Elira smiled at him. "No, Vincent just had to leave unexpectedly because of...illness. Nothing serious. I'm sorry that we weren't able to finish today like we'd wanted, but we'll return tomorrow if you like, to finish the job."
Mr. Geddes was smiling, too, as he shook his head. "Whatever is good for you, Miss Maddison. I'm afraid the grant we've asked for from the representatives at the Metropolitan Building has been delayed in the system, so it may be months before the actual restoration will be possible."
Elira nodded sympathetically. "That's too bad."
Mr. Geddes shrugged. "Ah well. So, is there anything I can do for you?"
Elira hesitated for a moment and Mr. Geddes' face took on a slightly shrewd look. "I assume you did come back for more than just the rescheduling," he intoned quietly. "You do realize that we could've discussed all of this over the phone."
Elira chuckled a little, inwardly surprised at the curator's perceptiveness. "Well, you're right, I am here for more than the scheduling. I'm here because of one gun we saw. It had some markings on it that Vincent thought might've been Cetra."
Mr. Geddes nodded thoughtfully. "That is possible. Does information about the Cetra interest you?"
Elira shrugged a little. "Yeah. I guess you could say it's a recent interest. Is there any way I could get a copy of those markings from the gun?"
Mr. Geddes considered her request for a moment before answering. "If you need it for today, we do have an instant-picture camera."
"Yes, thank you. Thank you very much, Mr. Geddes."
"No problem at all, Miss Maddison."
While Mr. Geddes fetched the museum's camera, Elira walked up to the second floor and into the room where the ancient guns were kept. By the time Mr. Geddes arrived with the camera, Elira had found the weapon she was searching for.
Mr. Geddes scrutinized the gun before lifting the lens to his eye and taking the picture. A second later, an undeveloped card emerged from the photo outlet. He handed it to her.
"An interesting find, Miss Maddison. I do believe you have some of that eye for things uncommon and extraordinary."
Elira smiled as the picture developed in her hand. "Do you have any idea about the Cetra language, Mr. Geddes?"
The curator looked up from the gun. "No, unfortunately. But, there are professors who teach ancient languages in our university who may be able to help you with a translation." Mr. Geddes stood from his stooped position over the glass case and adjusted his glasses. "Does that aid you in any way?"
Elira nodded, grinning. "Yes, it does. Thank you for all of your help."
Mr. Geddes smiled warmly. "You're welcome, Miss Maddison. And don't feel pressured to return within the next week. Just come when you can."
Elira nodded and, with a departing smile, left the museum.
This time when she arrived at the university, she entered a likely looking building and searched for someone she could ask about the professors. A thin, brown-haired secretary seated at a desk behind a computer caught her eye and she approached her. "Um, excuse me?"
The woman looked up and smiled. "Yes?"
"I'm looking for someone who can help me with a translation."
The secretary looked thoughtful for a moment. "Then you're looking for Professor Fulton. He's the leading languages instructor. And, I believe..." She typed furiously on the keyboard in front of her and then glanced at the screen. "Yes, he has a free period now. You'll probably find him in his lecture room, 221, the second floor."
"Thank you."
She took the stairs to the second floor and then wandered down the hall, catching bits and pieces of lectures as she passed some of the rooms. Eventually, she came to room 221 and peeked through the doorway. A man was seated at a desk in front of a large blackboard. He looked forty-ish with wispy blond hair and drawn out features. His long face was made even longer as he frowned while reading what Elira supposed was a student's paper. Unsure if she was interrupting something important, she knocked firmly on the open door. The man looked up for a moment before returning his attention to the sheet in front of him.
"Ah, come in, young lady," he said in an unenthusiastic voice.
Elira walked into the room until she stood in front of the desk. The man pretended not to see her standing there for almost a full minute before he sniffed and glanced up at her.
"Yes? What can I do for you?"
Elira tried to keep her tone pleasant. "Are you Professor Fulton?"
"Yes."
"I was hoping you could help me with a translation."
Fulton inhaled slowly through his nose and then exhaled noisily. He put the paper down and ran his hands over it as if smoothing it out. "Actually, child, I'm quite busy right now. If you could come back tomorrow..."
Impatience overrode Elira's attempt at courtesy, already straining with the effort it took to keep from becoming offended. She hated being called 'child' as if she was some nine year old. "Professor Fulton, I am not a student. I'm looking for a translation of some Cetra runes that I need for today. I can't come back tomorrow."
Fulton seemed taken aback by her words for a moment and Elira wondered if he'd ever had anyone speak to him this way. "Well, my dear, I suppose I could take a moment to help you in that case."
Elira sighed. "Thank you, Professor."
Fulton mumbled some unintelligible reply as he walked over to a computer station across the room. Sitting down at one console, he asked, "Do you have these runes with you or are we to rely on your memory?"
Elira pulled the picture of the gun out of a pocket and handed it to the Professor. As he took a moment to examine it his scowl began to change into an expression of wonder.
"These really are Cetra runes," he marveled, as if shocked by the fact that Elira had known what they were. Deftly, he entered a few commands into the computer and a program titled Advanced Ancient Languages came up on the screen. Using the cursor, Fulton picked out the runes from a long tool bar; Elira guessed that these made up the Cetra alphabet. Soon, he had finished and he set the computer to the task of translating.
Elira leaned in as it worked, watching over the professor's shoulder as the computer searched through its data files. "So, this will find out what the runes say?" she asked after a minute of silent loading.
Fulton sniffed again. "It is improper to call them runes. A rune literally describes a single letter while each member of the Cetra language makes up an entire word. The term 'ideogram' perhaps describes them better."
Elira shrugged. "Whatever."
The professor seemed annoyed by her indifference and shifted in his seat to wait for the search to finish. Elira smothered a grin.
The sounds of the loading stopped after a few more minutes. Elira held her breath as the runes were translated before her eyes into words she could understand.
'An evil exists in the earth. The creature (being; monster) was drawn by it. We sealed (locked; shut; fastened) it away because there is a power greater than any demon, as only we of the city know.'
Fulton 'hmphed' quietly and turned his head to see what Elira made of it. But she was no longer in the room. He sighed and returned his eyes to the screen, frowning as he read and re-read the words, wondering what in the world they could mean.
There was a paddy-wagon parked at the curb outside of her shop when Elira arrived. Surprised, she began to mull over all of the reasons why the police might possibly be at her store. Walking quickly, she made her way down the sidewalk and through the door. The bell jangled above her head.
The first person she recognized was Terry, and he was flanked by two men in uniforms who were wielding guns she had never seen before. These had to be the police officers. Benita was yelling something at Terry, her five foot frame blocking the doorway to the forge against his five foot eight inch build, but he pushed her aside as if she was no more than a doll. Benita cried out as her head hit the stool and then there was no more noise from her. Terry proceeded unchallenged into the forge followed by the officers.
Horrified, Elira ran up to Benita and checked her. Unconscious, but otherwise all right, except for the goose-egg she would probably have later. A terrible rage began to bubble up in Elira. What the hell did Terry want? He was going to regret coming back here. Her hands balled up into fists as if she planned to beat him senseless, Elira entered the forge.
But Terry didn't notice her. He was already approaching Vincent. Vincent, for his part, was standing from his stool, his expression hard and unreadable.
"This is the one," Terry said suddenly, speaking to the men with him. "And now you'll have your proof." He moved suddenly and Elira didn't realize what he was doing until it happened. His arm shot forward in an unexpected jab toward Vincent.
As if he'd seen it coming, however, Vincent dodged out of the way and grabbed Terry's arm. Terry grimaced and pulled for the release of his limb. Vincent let him go without a fight. Elira saw the look on Terry's face that meant his ego had taken a blow and she knew this could get ugly. Quickly she ran up to him and slapped his arm. "Terry! What are you doing here?"
Terry turned to glare at her out of his good eye. The scarlet stitching seemed more pronounced in a face pale with anger. "If you won't listen to me, then I've got to take this into my own hands. He's dangerous, and I'll be damned if I'm going to let him get away with what he did to me." Then he grabbed her around the arm. "And you're going to help me."
She squirmed in his grip. "You're hurting me! Let go!"
Vincent was suddenly moving toward them. Terry laughed and Elira stumbled as she was dragged across the room. "You want her, Vince? Come and get her." And then he put a hard hand to Elira's chin and kissed her roughly. Elira gave a squeal of indignation and tried to push him away. When he didn't stop, she kicked at his legs. He gave a grunt when her foot connected with his shin. "Shit! You little bitch!"
For a moment, Elira saw all of her other employees staring in shock at Terry. And then she was abruptly staring at the floor, her cheek stinging as if it was on fire. Had Terry...hit her? She felt her world reel as she tried to straighten up. A moment later, however, she was being pushed the floor. She hit the cement with a cry.
"C'mon Vince! Beat the shit out of me! I dare you!"
Elira forced herself to look up despite the lancing pain in her head. Terry was still standing over her, but his attention was focused across the room. Elira followed his gaze, half afraid of what she would see.
Vincent was trembling. She could see it from here, a violent shuddering as if with suppressed rage, but he wasn't looking at Terry. He was staring resolutely at his workstation and Elira could practically feel his struggle for control. 'Fight it!' Elira urged him silently. 'Please Vincent, they've got guns!' And then, in a flash of inspiration, she thought she could see Terry's plan. Glancing again at the officers, who were staring in stupefaction at the unfolding scene, she realized why she didn't recognize the weapons. They used tranquilizer darts. Terry was going to have Vincent carted away, and she could imagine the stir he would cause in a scientific department somewhere. The thought made her feel sick to her stomach and she tried to get to her feet.
But Terry was just turning to her and he grabbed her arm again, hauling her the rest of the way up. "You need a little more inspiration, Vince?" Elira cringed, waiting for whatever Terry had in mind.
But it never came. With a growl, Vincent was suddenly there, and Elira stared in horror at his eyes, the red eyes of the demon. Even Terry stumbled back. "Now, dammit! Now!" he was shouting.
"You mean this is the demon?" one of the men asked.
"No, you idiot! But I don't want to die! Shoot him now!"
Terry's hold on her arm was faltering. A sudden idea made Elira pull away from him, and the officer she dashed to was too surprised to realize what she was doing until she'd grabbed his gun. And then, recalling everything Vincent had taught her about firing a weapon, she leveled the barrel and pulled the trigger.
The dart flew as if she'd been an expert right into Vincent's shoulder. He stumbled a little with the force behind it at such close range and then turned to stare at her. The encompassing red drained out of his eyes, leaving them as they were before, and he swayed on his feet. Then, as Elira stared, his lips twitched suddenly. "Your aim has improved," he observed dryly. And then he dropped to his knees and fell to the floor.
There were a few moments of silence before Elira turned to Terry, disgusted and angry beyond words. "Get out of here," she told him coldly. "Don't ever come back." She turned to the officers. "You, too! Get out before I call the real police and have you all arrested for harassing my employees!"
Terry glared at her in mute rage but did as she said. The officers followed him out of the forge, and after a few moments Elira heard the bell over her door chime a farewell. It wasn't until then that she realized she had been holding her breath. Drained, she sagged to the cement next to Vincent.
When Benita stumbled into the forge almost a minute later, it was to find Elira and Vincent on the floor and the other employees huddled by the lathe, talking quietly and looking a little unsure of what to do next. Benita ignored them and went to touch Elira gently on the shoulder. Elira started violently at first, but then sighed when she saw Benita. "Oh Beni, are you all right?"
Benita rubbed her head. "Yeah, I'll be okay. You a'right? Is...is Vince...?"
Elira glanced at Vincent and shook her head. "No, he's just unconscious."
"Where's Terry? What'd he want?"
Elira shrugged. "He's gone now, though. I don't know if he'll be back." She sighed a little and struggled to her feet. Benita lent her an arm. "Can...can someone help me take him up to my apartment?" She indicated Vincent with the gun.
Benita nodded and motioned for the other employees to do as Elira said. They were a little slow in complying, but after what they had just witnessed, no one was eager to disobey Elira.
Elira led the way up to her apartment and the others followed, carrying Vincent carefully up the stairs. Still massaging the back of her head, Benita wandered into the front room. A small press of people stood outside the store, looking in through the window, wondering what had happened. Benita suddenly had the feeling that she should be among them.
She also had the feeling that the things she didn't know were about to change everything.