[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]
.Despite his frailer appearance, his strength was far greater than hers; she struck the stone with an ear-splitting crack.But it was not the sound of immortal bone breaking, for she slid down to the floor in a heap of black and white, revealing a long, jagged fracture—a lightning-bolt in stone—behind her.The blow would certainly have killed a man at once.But Zsuzsanna was merely stunned and fell forward, propping her upper torso up with her arms, skirts and legs sprawled behind her upon the floor, dark hair spilling down over her livid face."I swear to you," she hissed at me, lips contorted downwards to reveal a razor-keen row of lower teeth, chin tucked to reveal a face consumed by large blazing eyes, "there will be payment for this! I shall relish every moment of your torment, your suffering, your corruption.And the day your soul joins your father's in Hell, I shall rejoice!""Silence!" Vlad commanded, with a rage that outshone hers as the sun outshines a single candle flame."What is the one thing I demand above all others, Zsuzsa? That you should never harm him, never speak ill of him, never bring him sorrow! And what have you done?What have you done? His son is lost to us and for that we must now pay!" She turned her face from him, sullenly mute.As he shouted, I pushed myself onto shaking knees and crawled back to my child, only steps from where the Impaler stood.Beside my black bag, Jan still lay on his side, pale and silent in death, untouched by the force that had torn me from him.Had it not been for Arkady and all the past and future generations who looked to me for rescue, I would have surrendered gladly to the monsters—if only I could complete the task that would give my little son rest.And in the time it took me to draw a single pained breath, Vlad's tone abruptly changed, grew warm, loving, beautiful to the ears, like the sweet high sound of a nightingale on a quiet starlit eve."Abraham," he said softly, for the first time acknowledging the man I had become rather than the babe who had escaped him, "your child is not truly dead.I alone have the means to revive him.And I will, should you do one small thing: Come to me now.Perform the ritual with me, and you and your child will be free to return to your home." He spoke with Arkady's voice; and the sound of it so moved me that I forgot myself and glanced up from my child's body to the Impaler's countenance and saw it shift, transforming itself to that of the father I had never known.I struggled to maintain the protective glow around my heart; blinked, and saw behind the illusion the Impaler's malignant, skeletal features.With one hand, I fumbled in my bag without looking and drew out the sheathed blade."Enough of suffering," he said, and I stared into Arkady's soft, compassionate eyes once more."Dear Bram, enough! Must you give up everything? Your own life, your wife's, your son's? No! Cast aside the cross and hand me the boy.I shall restore him to you; restore also the happy life you once knew.I ask but one small ritual, one brief exchange, and all can become as it once was; take the boy home to his mother, and let the joy of that reunion restore her as well.You have sacrificed enough.Look at him, Bram! Look at what you have done to your own blood, how cruelly you have mutilated his innocent little body! What sickness bids a father to so defile his own flesh? Do you wish him to remain thus—or become again a happy, living child?"Cast aside the cross; grant me this one small thing.And the grim darkness your life threatens to become will turn to day, and you can once more rest in the love of your wife and son."His words pierced me more thoroughly than any blade could; I gazed down at Jan's tiny corpse and fought back a wave of grief so powerful I feared it would wash away the last remnants of my defense.I felt myself surrounded by the inky darkness of Vlad's aura, felt my own glow engulfed, consumed.I closed my eyes; unshed tears burned behind the lids.And with a desperation beyond any I have ever experienced before or since, a desperation that transcended time and place and physical frailty and rent the veil separating earth from Heaven, I cried out mentally —no, I prayed, to Arminius and Arkady and the generations dead and to come: Help me!Whether the dead and absent heard me, or whether my genuine prayer summoned help from within my own soul, I know not; but an act of emotional alchemy followed.The dross of my despair was transmuted into the gold of a determined will.Physically, I was dangerously weak and dizzy; the agony provoked by drawing a breath had only increased, and with it came a sense of heaviness in my lungs.I worried they had been punctured, and that I would collapse ere I dragged myself from the castle.Nevertheless I found the strength to gather Jan's body into my arms and rise, unsteady and gasping, to my feet.The poor boy was heavier in death than ever he had been in life."Bram," Vlad wheedled, coaxing, still affecting Arkady's voice and visage; yet I glimpsed the decadent monster behind the facade."Come, bring him to me." I disobeyed, staggering instead to the doorway, past the peasant vampiress (who dared not touch me, nor meet her master's eyes) and into the throne chamber.Vlad followed alongside, still sweetly soothing:"You are a stubborn man—but weak and tired.Surrender your suffering, Bram.Surrender your burden."I made it past the implements of torture, past the bloodstains, past the throne, on sheer will alone.And when at last I emerged into the long, narrow corridor that led down to the stairs, I leaned heavily against the cool wall.The large stake protruding from Jan's small body scraped against the stone, leaving a shiny trail to mark our passage.My pain increased, as did my light-headedness; but to allow myself the luxury of unconsciousness would mean failure.As I staggered down the stairs, I suddenly saw Arkady waiting upon the landing, his arms spread in welcome:Abraham, my son, you are tired! Give me your burden.For a fleeting instant, I felt a surge of hope, thinking that Arkady had somehow been spared and had come to aid our escape.But then I blinked and saw behind his smiling countenance Vlad's malevolent features.Again I prayed to Arminius and my ancestors; again I found strength.Grimacing with pain, I shifted my son's weight to my left arm and with my right hand held aloft the crucifix that hung over my heart.Pain and necessity eclipsed all fear; I approached my nemesis boldly, ready to touch the relic to his flesh if need be.Indeed, I came close to doing so; I was less than an arm's length from him, close enough to smell his foetid breath before he stepped aside.Thus did I progress raggedly through the castle— growing weaker, dizzier, yet more determined with each step.And at last I arrived at the open door that led to the day beyond.With a sense of triumph, I stepped into a pane of bright sunlight.Before me, the door slammed shut, pushed by a sudden gust of wind; a heavy black iron bolt slid through the lock.Vlad's voice behind me, faintly harsher now, commanding: "Put down your burden, Abraham.Surrender to the inevitable and rest."With a burst of energy that exhausted all my reserves, I moved to the door and, with my son still in my arms, leaned my forehead against the cool wood.I tried to shift Jan's weight to my left arm so that I might unbolt the door; but weakness and pain overcame me.Brow still pressed against the wood, I slid to my knees and gasped
[ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]