With Silent Screams (The Hellequin Chronicles, Book 3)

  “Did you all hear what Simon said about the machine still being in motion? You think he meant Whitehorn’s plan?” Caitlin asked.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “The idea that this whole thing is just a smaller part in a larger plan is, quite frankly, worrisome. But we can only fight what we know for certain. Maybe we’ll get more out of it, or maybe Simon is bullshitting us just to try and wind us up. It’s certainly not something I’d be surprised about.”

  “Agreed,” Galahad said. “Let’s fight one thing at a time. Hey, you remember what you said to me on the balcony? About Karl? It didn’t jog at the time, but you mentioned him again up there. I know the name Karl Steiner.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  “Look, I know we poor alchemists don’t have a sorcerer’s memory with details, but that doesn’t mean I forget easily either. And I don’t forget names.”

  “So where do you know him from?”

  Galahad was quiet for a few seconds. “Oh fucking hell,” he said in what was barely a whisper. “I know the name because Karl Steiner was the man whose plan I followed when we took Simon the first time. I fired him after I got back, not because his plan failed, but because he said the murders of the wood trolls were not something we should bother ourselves with. His opinion was that his plan had succeeded.”

  I started at Galahad for a few seconds. “So Karl used to work for you?” I eventually managed to get out. “That would be why he hates you so much.”

  “So, you think this is just about revenge, now?” Galahad asked.

  I shook my head. “This is about money and power. But fucking you over, well, that’s the icing on the cake.”

  CHAPTER 30

  We hurried over to the realm gate as fast as possible, which with Galahad in tow, turned out to be very quick indeed. It’s amazing how fast people will move out of your way when the king of their nation is with you.

  Not even Harrison offered a word of dissent as Galahad demanded that the portal be opened and then explained to Rebecca that we needed to know everything she could tell us about guardians and their tattoos.

  “Take care, Nate,” Galahad said.

  “I will,” I promised and stepped through the realm gate, leaving Caitlin and her newly discovered father to have a few moments to themselves while I filled Rebecca in on all the questions she had about what had happened.

  Once Caitlin was back with us, Rebecca took us up to her office, where she told us to sit on one of the couches available and offered us a drink.

  “Beer,” Caitlin said immediately.

  “Something cold,” I told her. “With no alcohol.”

  She brought back something that turned out to be cloudy lemonade, which, in my opinion, is the only way to ever drink lemonade.

  “So, where do you want me to begin?” Rebecca asked, after she sat opposite me, a glass of red wine in one hand.

  “Guardian’s have tattoos,” I started. “What’s the relevance of them?”

  “They bind us to a realm gate,” Rebecca said, clearly a little uncomfortable about the conversation.

  “Look,” I told her. “I know Galahad has told you to help us, and I thank you for that, but I’m not asking questions because I want the inside story of how to make my own guardians. We need to know because it could be the only way to stop more people from getting hurt.”

  “I know,” she said. “But the things I’m telling you about, these are not easy things to discuss. These secrets have kept realms safe, if this information became common knowledge.…”

  “It won’t,” I told her with complete conviction.

  Rebecca glanced between Caitlin and me and then downed her wine in one, pouring another, much larger, measure. “The tattoos bind us to one gate, and only one gate, so each tattoo is different for each gate. It’s also slightly different for each person.”

  “Can we see yours?” Caitlin asked.

  Rebecca unbuttoned her blouse without pause, turning around to show the two fist-sized tattoos on her back, one just below each shoulder. “There are two because it means I can open the gate from either side,” she told us, anticipating my first question.

  “Sorry for this, I’m not being weird,” I told her as I walked over and examined the tattoos more closely. Both were a single word in a language I’d only seen a handful of times in the past, I certainly didn’t know what they meant.

  “Do you know what they mean?” Caitlin asked Rebecca, as if reading my thoughts.

  Rebecca shook her head, making her hair cascade down her back, partially covering one of the tattoos. She hastily grabbed her hair and pulled it over one shoulder. “No, none of the guardians do, but then we don’t really discuss it with anyone outside of our own.”

  “You should,” I told her. “The one for this realm could well be dwarven. Can’t tell you what the words mean, but I’ve seen some of the writing before in Merlin’s books. They believed that words had a very literal power, so their language was a type of old runes. It’s why they wrote so little down, they didn’t want anyone to have access to their power. The one for the other realm. I have no idea what that is, it’s not something I’ve ever even seen before.”

  Rebecca pulled her blouse back on and started to button it. “I had no idea they were so old.”

  “It does lead to the question of how you know about the words.”

  “We don’t. That’s the job of the tattooist.”

  “How would they know?” Caitlin asked. “Do they have a book or something?”

  “When a guardian performs the ritual to bond themselves with a realm gate, they don’t go alone. All rituals are performed by two people. The guardian is the one who is bonded, but the second person sees a vision of the mark they need to make. That vision is so powerful, that they can draw that mark from memory for days after.”

  “So, why not use any old tattooist?”

  “Only the child of a guardian can complete the ritual,” Rebecca said. “Only they have the ability to see the mark. Most never take part in any ritual, but some choose to learn how to tattoo. It used to be almost exclusively males doing it, but over the years, more and more women are taking part.”

  “So, if Simon had his hands on the guardian, he could, in theory, find out who did the tattoo and get that person to tattoo people of his choosing?” I asked.

  Rebecca nodded. “Yeah, the guardian can be any human willing to bond themselves with a realm gate, the artist has to be a guardian’s child. They’re much rarer and easily the most important component to the whole ritual. The bonding ritual that gives us our power makes us infertile for decades after. And while we stay in the zone around our gate, we are incapable of having children.”

  “Has anyone here had kids?”

  Rebecca shook her head. “We have six guardians, none of them have children, and none are interested in doing so.”

  “So, if you want kids, you need to walk away from being a guardian.”

  “If you’re a man, no, you can leave, get someone pregnant, and return. But if a woman returned, the baby would die. Most who decide to start a family do so after decades, if not centuries of service. And once they have left the zone, few ever return.”

  “What’s stopping a guardian from just working for whomever pays them enough to open the gate?”

  “Why would any of them do that?” Rebecca asked, sounding as if my suggestion was the most alien thing she’d ever heard. “They’re loyal to the realm.”

  “But some psycho could become bonded and start letting in an army, for example?”

  “It’s possible,” she conceded. “But no guardian would ever do such a thing, it would be…unheard of. Guardians and artists are loyal to the realm itself. The guardian has to swear an allegiance to always do what’s best for the realm. It’s a blood oath, and if they’re lying, the ritual won’t work.”

  ?
??What if they were forced to open the gate? I know guardians are impervious to death, but their families might not be. In fact can you still feel pain?”

  “Well, yes they could, and yes, we can feel pain. Although it doesn’t last long.”

  “And what’s stopping one of these artists from being forced to tattoo someone? Can the ritual tell if someone is being coerced?”

  “No, and artists don’t have to take the same bond. Any artist can tattoo anyone for any realm gate. They’re not permanent positions either, they can choose who they tattoo and when.”

  “Which means once Simon has his artist, he can just force her to tattoo people for him. Hell, if they believe they’re doing something for the good of the realm, even if they’re not, then the ritual would go ahead as planned.”

  Rebecca nodded. “They just have to believe that they’re.…” Her hand shot to her mouth. “Oh, my God, is that what they’re doing? Simon’s trying to find an artist to make guardians for him.”

  “But what guardian would ever give up the child of one of their own?” Caitlin asked. “Surely that’s insane.”

  “With enough leverage, be that pain, threats, pleasure, or anything else you can think of, you’d be surprised what people are capable of forcing others to do,” I said, feeling a glare from both the ladies. “I never said I’d lived a life of goodness and virtue. Sometimes you have to do bad things to make sure the worse things don’t happen.”

  Everyone was silent for a moment, which was probably my fault. The discussion of torture is a pretty good way to stop a conversation.

  “You think my mom is trying a similar tact?” Caitlin asked.

  “Have you lost any guardians?” I asked Rebecca. “Any gone missing or no longer around as much anymore?”

  Rebecca shook her head.

  “Then, yes,” I said. “She’s hunting people in Stratford for a reason, the same as Simon. So, what the hell is in Stratford that is important enough to try and find not only a guardian there, but also the child of one.”

  “There can’t be any guardians in Stratford?” Rebecca asked. “Not unless they’re from another part of the world. There’s no realm gate in Maine, outside of the one downstairs.”

  “You sure?” I asked.

  Rebecca looked me right in the eye. “Yes, we would have found it years ago if there were. It would have been used, and the second it’s activated, every guardian in here would know about it. I’ll say again, there are only the six of us. We work in shifts of three on, three off, and if any of us leave the zone, the others would know about it. Those who are all working on the same realm gate can sense where each of us are.”

  “Could the realm gate be hidden?” Caitlin asked.

  “That would be like trying to hide a jumbo jet on a football field during the Super Bowl. The second it was activated, we’d know about it.”

  “Are you thinking as a rational person, or as someone who really doesn’t want there to be a second gate?” I asked. “Because yours is in a cave; why can’t the other one be hidden somewhere out of sight?”

  “Technically, it’s possible. But realm gates don’t just spring up; they’ve always been there. And the likelihood that no one has ever used it is, like I said, slim to none. Some of the guardians down there have been here centuries. Once you’ve activated a gate, you can’t switch it off. We would all know it had been used, we would feel any gates that were connected to the same realm as ours.”

  A thought made its way into my head. “You ever heard of a girl by the name of Sally-Ann Beaumont? She was murdered back in seventy-seven.”

  “I knew a Philip Beaumont,” she said. “He was a guardian. He died in a car crash just outside of the zone. If he had been inside, he’d have lived. He used to work for King Whitehorn, but quit when the guard changed. He decided he’d had enough and left the zone to raise a family. After a while, a guardian outside of the realm gate’s influence will need to be replaced, if they come back into that area, they’ll still have some of their powers, but they’ll be greatly diminished. It would have been enough to save him though. It’s a real shame. He was a good guy.”

  “That son-of-a-bitch,” I seethed, almost to myself.

  “You okay?” Caitlin asked as Rebecca raised an eyebrow in question.

  “Yeah, I just need to go make a quick phone call. There’s someone I need to shout at for a considerable period of time and then punch in the face the next time I see him.”

  “You complete and utter fucking idiot,” I shouted down the phone, drawing a few curious glances from passers-by.

  “Nice to speak to you too, Nate,” Roberto said.

  “Fuck being nice, you lied to me.”

  “I’m pretty certain I’ve never lied to you, but what exactly did I lie about?”

  “Sally-Ann.”

  Roberto paused. “Tread very carefully, Nate. Her father was a good friend of mine, and if you start flinging around any sort of stupid accusations, we may just fall out.”

  “Her father was a guardian, wasn’t he?” Before Roberto could answer, I continued, “One of Galahad’s people just confirmed it. That would make Sally-Ann a bit more special than just a college girl in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Phillip was a doorman, I told you that. He’d done some guard work for the previous king, but had left some time ago. Sally-Ann was murdered and I needed someone to do something about it. If I’d known he was a guardian, I’d have mentioned it. Sally-Ann was in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

  “Actually, I think she was exactly where she was meant to be. How much do you know about the children of guardians?”

  “About as much as anyone else who isn’t a guardian. What’s your point?”

  “Sally-Ann studied art; was she into tattoos?”

  “How’d you know that? She was training as an apprentice. Her grandparents didn’t approve, but she loved it. She was going to wait until she’d graduated before getting her first tattoo; she was really looking forward to it.”

  “Well the lack of tattoos got her killed,” I said. “Or at least killed quicker.” Pieces started to fall into place as I spoke to Roberto. Simon was looking for guardians to try and find the tattooists that did the work. Sally-Ann, as the daughter of a guardian, was the only person who could have been doing it. Which meant she was on her way to Stratford for a reason before she got grabbed.

  “Simon was searching for guardians in the town,” I continued. “Which means he knew that at least one lived there. He had no idea that Sally-Ann, the child of a guardian and a tattooist, was on her way there to meet friends. And even less of an idea that she was the very person he was looking for.”

  “Oh, shit,” Roberto said. “So, if I’d known that Sally-Ann was the daughter of a guardian, it would have helped?”

  I might have thought that I would have known what I was looking for. I would have been able to ask Galahad for information on guardians. I may have even been able to stop anyone else dying. But I didn’t want to make it worse for Roberto. He genuinely hadn’t known about Sally-Ann or her father. So, instead, I said, “No, probably not.”

  “So,” Roberto said, his voice betraying the guilt he felt at not knowing important information. “You think Sally-Ann was going to Stratford to tattoo someone, why?”

  “I can’t tell you,” I said. “I promised a guardian that I wouldn’t reveal their secrets. All you need to know is that it looks like she was tattooing people. When Simon grabbed her, he had actually grabbed the very person he was after. He was just too impatient to find out.”

  Roberto sighed. “That doesn’t make me feel any better, Nate.”

  “Wasn’t meant to, but it does mean that Sally-Ann either knew that guardians were in Stratford or she was making some. I’m going with both.”

  “Why?”

  ?
??Well, Simon knew that guardians were there; he’s not the type of person to go to all that effort for a hunch. If Sally-Ann was making more, then she must have known that some already exist. Simon’s goons grabbed her, Simon thought they’d fucked up and killed her to cover his tracks. But in reality, they’d grabbed the right person. Simon was just insistent on those taken having tattoos.”

  “So, where do you go from here?”

  “Stratford. Someone there knows something. I plan on finding who that is.”

  “Keep me in touch. And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t know more.”

  “Thanks, I’ll keep you informed. And for what it’s worth, I shouldn’t have accused you of withholding information.” I hung up, feeling crappy. The fact of the matter was that I fucked up. I got so caught up in getting Simon back in ’77 that I never asked myself who would want a young girl killed. I never checked into her background. I focused on my anger at the situation and not at trying to solve her murder. I owed Sally-Ann some long overdue justice, and I aimed to deliver on that.

  I turned to walk back into the bar, when my phone rang.

  “Fucking hell, Nate, you been hiding under a rock?” Sky asked, her voice high and full of energy.

  “Have you been drinking far too much Red Bull?”

  “Shut up, smart ass. I found something you need to hear. You know those victims who got away from Simon and his insane idea of house guests?”

  “I vaguely remember, yeah.”

  “What did I just say about being a smart ass?”

  “Okay, fine, you made your point, what about the survivors?”

  “Well, I could find nearly all of them, except two. Greg and Fern. They’re not anywhere after ’82.”

  “Did they die?”

  “More re-born. Glen is now Father Patterson; he’s the town priest.”

  “And Fern?”

  “She still vanished, but I managed to dig up something interesting. Her father was a guardian from back west.”

  “So, Simon killed one artist, but had another in his fucking basement. Another day or so and he’d have gotten everything he wanted.” I told her about what had happened with Galahad, Shadow Falls, and the guardians.