The Force of Wind
Page 85
“This is for yer wife. Some journals that Stephen left with me.”
“What kind of journals?”
“Did ye ever buy that boat you were talkin’ about?”
“Why did I need to come all the way to London for these?”
“Did ye go with a powered vessel, or a sailing one? I always recommend sails, less mechanics to go wrong fer our sort. Of course, with the Mariposa being as she is, any further form of propulsion is somewhat redundant, isn’t it?”
He placed his hand on the package, sliding it across the scarred table and looking into Tywyll’s eyes.
“Why,” he asked again, “did I need to come here for these? You could have sent them with Gemma’s father. Why did I need to leave my wife to come fetch these like an errand boy?”
Tywyll paused, a look of sadness flickering over his rough face. “How is she?”
He paused for a moment. “She’s coping. She’s adapting very well to this life. She is extremely strong.”
“Did I hear correctly that your old partner had a hand in that?”
He paused before deciding to confide in Tywyll. In reality, the old vampire seemed genuine. And if Stephen had trusted him…
Giovanni had received a letter from him the previous month, volunteering the information that Beatrice’s father had left things with Tywyll in the event of his death that Stephen intended for Beatrice. Tywyll, much to Giovanni’s annoyance, had insisted he collect the items in person.
“She did. Tenzin and Stephen were mated, so yes, Beatrice is partly of her blood, which is… very strong.”
“Oh,” Tywyll grinned. “Clever Stephen. Well done, lad. And well done, Tenzin.”
As always, Giovanni wondered how extensive the immortal’s connections were. He seemed to know a little bit about everyone and everything, though Giovanni had never heard of the old man traveling farther than up and down the river.
“She’ll be a day-walker, as well. As Stephen became.”
A smile lifted the corner of Tywyll’s mouth. “Excellent. You’ll give her my regards and my condolences.”
Giovanni nodded. “My condolences to you, as well. I know you considered him a friend.”
Tywyll paused as the barman set down two pints on the old table. “I did. I do. I don’t happen to believe that significant things like souls just disappear. That’s energy, isn’t it? That’s our element. And if there’s one thing we know, the elements always remain.”
“Nothing remains, save us and the elements.”
The old memory from his father startled him. Giovanni blinked and took a sip of his beer, enjoying the sharp bite of the hops on his tongue.
“Tywyll?”
“Aye, lad?”
He paused before he took a chance. “Do you consider me a friend?”
The old man cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not yet.”
“Do you consider my wife a friend?”
“I consider her a responsibility. But a pleasant one.”
“I know you told Stephen you would care for her if he died.”
“Ye’ve known that for over a year.” He took another drink. “What do ye want, fire-starter?”
Giovanni paused, weighing the odds before he spoke. Someone had found Stephen. In the years he had hidden from the immortal world, one vampire had always found him. Whatever Tywyll may have said, if the old vampire had taught Stephen how to hide, then he could teach someone else how to find him.
“Who was Stephen’s contact in Rome?”
A minute flicker in Tywyll’s eye let Giovanni know that he’d hit his mark.
“Who says I know what yer talking about?”
“I do. There was a contact. An information source. One who knew exactly what Stephen had and whom he was hiding from. One who knew how to find him and get in contact with him when he wanted to.”
Tywyll didn’t look at him; he quietly sipped his pint as his eyes scanned the pub.
“And what if he did? What business is that of yers? You don’t have Stephen’s book now, do you?”
“No.” He leaned forward. “I don’t, but my son does. And I don’t know exactly what was in it. I don’t know the formula that Geber wrote, but I know what Stephen claimed it contained. And I know that Zhang Guo’s most brilliant student told me that there was something that my son wouldn’t understand, even if he got his hands on the formula.”
Tywyll narrowed his eyes. “I’m not interested in formulas or elixirs, fire-starter. I have no use for them. What is it that you want? Speak plain or leave me to my beer.”
“I want the name of Stephen’s contact. And I think you know who it is, because I think you told him how to find Stephen.”
Giovanni sat back in his seat, watching Tywyll deliberate in silence. Stephen’s contact had pointed him in the right direction too many times for his involvement to be coincidental.
“And if I do know of this contact’s name, why would I give it to you? You’ve no need to stay one step ahead of Lorenzo.”
“On the contrary, I have even more reason to stay one step ahead of him. My son has this book. If it does what Stephen thought it did, he has a purpose for it, and it won’t be a good one. Anyone who has truly studied it is dead or missing. Anyone who had any sort of understanding of it is gone… except for four vampires that I can think of.”
A strange gleam came to Tywyll’s eyes. “Four, eh?”
“What kind of journals?”
“Did ye ever buy that boat you were talkin’ about?”
“Why did I need to come all the way to London for these?”
“Did ye go with a powered vessel, or a sailing one? I always recommend sails, less mechanics to go wrong fer our sort. Of course, with the Mariposa being as she is, any further form of propulsion is somewhat redundant, isn’t it?”
He placed his hand on the package, sliding it across the scarred table and looking into Tywyll’s eyes.
“Why,” he asked again, “did I need to come here for these? You could have sent them with Gemma’s father. Why did I need to leave my wife to come fetch these like an errand boy?”
Tywyll paused, a look of sadness flickering over his rough face. “How is she?”
He paused for a moment. “She’s coping. She’s adapting very well to this life. She is extremely strong.”
“Did I hear correctly that your old partner had a hand in that?”
He paused before deciding to confide in Tywyll. In reality, the old vampire seemed genuine. And if Stephen had trusted him…
Giovanni had received a letter from him the previous month, volunteering the information that Beatrice’s father had left things with Tywyll in the event of his death that Stephen intended for Beatrice. Tywyll, much to Giovanni’s annoyance, had insisted he collect the items in person.
“She did. Tenzin and Stephen were mated, so yes, Beatrice is partly of her blood, which is… very strong.”
“Oh,” Tywyll grinned. “Clever Stephen. Well done, lad. And well done, Tenzin.”
As always, Giovanni wondered how extensive the immortal’s connections were. He seemed to know a little bit about everyone and everything, though Giovanni had never heard of the old man traveling farther than up and down the river.
“She’ll be a day-walker, as well. As Stephen became.”
A smile lifted the corner of Tywyll’s mouth. “Excellent. You’ll give her my regards and my condolences.”
Giovanni nodded. “My condolences to you, as well. I know you considered him a friend.”
Tywyll paused as the barman set down two pints on the old table. “I did. I do. I don’t happen to believe that significant things like souls just disappear. That’s energy, isn’t it? That’s our element. And if there’s one thing we know, the elements always remain.”
“Nothing remains, save us and the elements.”
The old memory from his father startled him. Giovanni blinked and took a sip of his beer, enjoying the sharp bite of the hops on his tongue.
“Tywyll?”
“Aye, lad?”
He paused before he took a chance. “Do you consider me a friend?”
The old man cocked an eyebrow at him. “Not yet.”
“Do you consider my wife a friend?”
“I consider her a responsibility. But a pleasant one.”
“I know you told Stephen you would care for her if he died.”
“Ye’ve known that for over a year.” He took another drink. “What do ye want, fire-starter?”
Giovanni paused, weighing the odds before he spoke. Someone had found Stephen. In the years he had hidden from the immortal world, one vampire had always found him. Whatever Tywyll may have said, if the old vampire had taught Stephen how to hide, then he could teach someone else how to find him.
“Who was Stephen’s contact in Rome?”
A minute flicker in Tywyll’s eye let Giovanni know that he’d hit his mark.
“Who says I know what yer talking about?”
“I do. There was a contact. An information source. One who knew exactly what Stephen had and whom he was hiding from. One who knew how to find him and get in contact with him when he wanted to.”
Tywyll didn’t look at him; he quietly sipped his pint as his eyes scanned the pub.
“And what if he did? What business is that of yers? You don’t have Stephen’s book now, do you?”
“No.” He leaned forward. “I don’t, but my son does. And I don’t know exactly what was in it. I don’t know the formula that Geber wrote, but I know what Stephen claimed it contained. And I know that Zhang Guo’s most brilliant student told me that there was something that my son wouldn’t understand, even if he got his hands on the formula.”
Tywyll narrowed his eyes. “I’m not interested in formulas or elixirs, fire-starter. I have no use for them. What is it that you want? Speak plain or leave me to my beer.”
“I want the name of Stephen’s contact. And I think you know who it is, because I think you told him how to find Stephen.”
Giovanni sat back in his seat, watching Tywyll deliberate in silence. Stephen’s contact had pointed him in the right direction too many times for his involvement to be coincidental.
“And if I do know of this contact’s name, why would I give it to you? You’ve no need to stay one step ahead of Lorenzo.”
“On the contrary, I have even more reason to stay one step ahead of him. My son has this book. If it does what Stephen thought it did, he has a purpose for it, and it won’t be a good one. Anyone who has truly studied it is dead or missing. Anyone who had any sort of understanding of it is gone… except for four vampires that I can think of.”
A strange gleam came to Tywyll’s eyes. “Four, eh?”
