23
Two months later
The early days of spring revived hope’s withered sprouts, but the mountain nights remained ice cold, snuffing out every breath of fresh air that struggled to emerge during the day.
Amelia had got more and more used to her new world. Whenever nobody was watching, she’d make her way to the top floor and search for the ring. Her approaches were hasty and uncoordinated – she’d been rifling through Mikhail’s belongings for days, but the ring kept eluding her.
If she wasn’t seeking the ring, she was finding different ways to engage her thoughts.
A few times, she’d gone into the OR with Nyavolski to assist him with various cases and had visited Viktor in the autopsy room, but those pastimes couldn’t erase the oppressive feeling of helplessness.
Apart from the missing ring, her visions wouldn’t obey her, and given how much time had passed, it seemed unlikely Mikhail would get out of Prokaliya anytime soon.
Amelia sat next to Constantine in the Council meeting room. The necromancer started the same way he had for the last months. “Any news of Mikhail?”
“Same old. They’re still keeping him in a secluded part of the prison. Only Presiyan and the six cardinals have access,” Jaguar said.
“These creatures don’t have a smidgen of value! A smidgen !” Nyavolski exclaimed.
“The cardinals know no mercy.” His wife, Helena, studied the tips of her black-coloured nails. “If the stories about this place are true… Well, it’s not like many have lived to confirm or deny…”
Amelia’s stomach twisted in a knot. She hoped that all the rumours about Prokaliya were made up because otherwise, it would mean Mikhail was in grave peril.
The supposed location of the prison was the Norwegian island of Bouvet.
Legend had it that the cells were ensconced within the crater of a slumbering volcano, shrouded beneath a dense layer of ice – a harsh, unforgiving environment where not all who entered survived.
“Is there a way out of the prison?” she asked, aware of Zacharia’s opinion on the matter – sheer lunacy, utterly impossible, akin to courting death itself – but she clung to the slim hope that someone else in the group might think differently.
Lyla’s laughter broke through the tension, a sound that Amelia found maddening.
“Did I say something funny, witch?”
“Yes!” Lyla stuck her tongue out, showing off its purple hue again. “Nobody has ever escaped Prokaliya. Alive! ”
Amelia wasn’t about to give up. “Let me rephrase. How about we find a way to get Mikhail out of there?”
“By storming the prison, you mean?” Jaguar asked.
“No. By convincing Presiyan to release him.”
The reactions ranged from sceptical stares to snarky grins and a couple of scoffs.
“Okay, fine. If convincing Presiyan isn’t an option, what about a rescue attempt? We could sneak him out…” Amelia pressed on.
Constantine shifted in the seat beside her. “That would mean war between us and the Tribunal. We are not in a position to win.”
Amelia crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair.
The indifference some of the Council members showed towards Mikhail’s imprisonment made her insides boil.
The sentiment only strengthened when she recalled the conversation she’d had with Constantine, Viktor, and Zacharia shortly after Mikhail had been taken.
‘The creatures aren’t indifferent to Mikhail’s arrest,’ Constantine had said, ‘ but in a situation of uncertainty, sometimes you don’t know which god to worship.’
‘Loyalty exists only when you’re present. Once you’re gone, it’s impossible to keep it going for an empty seat.’
And Viktor had said: ‘The times are unstable. Creatures fear diseases. They hear whispers of a new enemy who has the key to solving the regeneration issue. Everyone with even a bit of brains knows now is not a good time for conflict with the Tribunal .’
But it was Zacharia’s words that had toppled the glass of her desperation. ‘Mikhail’s arrest means he’s lost Presiyan’s support – one of the most powerful and influential men on the planet . You can imagine how that reads in the eyes of his enemies.’
What could she say to that, when they knew this world better than she ever would?
Constantine cleared his throat, drawing her focus once more. “What happened with the rebellion in Cardiology?”
Nyavolski took a deep breath and burst into a monologue.
“This is getting out of hand! Those damn vampires think they can push us around while Korovin’s away.
But hey, if they don’t like it here, they’re free to find work elsewhere!
Let’s see how far they get. And yeah, they’re threatening to move to a human hospital – can you believe it?
Finding decent staff is a nightmare already!
Bloody vampires! They never bother to ask about the Hospital’s funding or the cost of all this expensive equipment… ”
Amelia sank deeper into her chair. The additional responsibilities were clearly overwhelming the surgeon.
“And this next absurdity, listen up! A few nymphs from Orthopaedics are threatening to strike, but not for cash. For a change in work hours. They claim I’m too demanding… Fuckin’ nymphs! Fuckin’ vampires! Fuckin’… little bastards!”
“I don’t know what you’ll do with them, but attempt to quiet them down. I don’t want the hysteria to take over my department as well,” Dimitri, who had taken over the ICU, mumbled.
Zia recommended appeasing them for now, while Platinum suggested making an example out of someone – gutting them to make a point. They agreed to meet the workers’ demands until they could find replacements.
Around this point in the meetings, Amelia’s attention would drift away, her thoughts wandering to Mikhail’s ring. She had searched for it everywhere, damn it , and was starting to doubt its existence.
Helena’s words snapped her back to the present discussion. “Since we’re on the problems-at-the-Hospital topic, I would like to put something to a vote. As you all know, we recently discovered a mass in the left lung of a lycanthrope. More specifically, a small cell carcinoma.”
Amelia had witnessed the mass in question because she’d been assisting Nyavolski with an abdominal surgery. Another vampire had come across the discovery and called the chief of surgery.
“Correct. The vampire with the colon carcinoma is no longer the only creature with cancer in their body,” Nyavolski said.
“There is a way to figure out why this is happening and how to fix it.” Helena lifted her chin and stared at the creatures around the table. “It is time we perform the genetic tests I’ve been trying to convince Korovin to do for so long.”
As if he’d been waiting on standby, her husband wasted no time in expressing his displeasure. “Don’t start again, woman! We’ll burn in Hell because of your nonsense! There are sacred things in this fuckin’ world that even you should respect!”
“That respect will bring us to the flames!” Helena bared her teeth. “But first we’ll go under Volk’s scalpel, as he digs through our bodies in search of all kinds of abominations that are probably eating through our flesh as we speak…”
“Shut up, woman! Do you always have to be so… so…”
Amelia observed the family feud. It was a regular occurrence at every meeting. Despite their frequent disputes, there weren’t many couples in the immortal world who had been together for as long as they had. Helena and Vladislav were even married according to human traditions.
Nyavolski shook his head. “The cave has a special access regime. Those vampires are nuts! They live by outdated traditions. They eat the bodies of their dead…”
Amelia wrinkled her nose at that last bit of information. She’d heard the Temple of the Dead Immortals was located at the foot of Mount Triglav in Slovenia… but cannibalism?
“I doubt those vampires are as wild as you’re trying to paint them,” Helena said.
Constantine gave the table a light tap with his palm. “The Beduin tribe is tasked with protecting the sacred heritage of the immortal species. They won’t be pleased if someone tampered with said heritage.”
Nyavolski nodded. “The creatures resting there have all shown incredible qualities throughout the centuries. Disturbing their final peace would be sacrilegious!”
Helena smiled. “The dead are hard to disturb , wouldn’t you agree?”
“The problem is not disturbing the dead, but the Beduin vampires,” Viktor chimed in.
“What if we explain it’s for scientific purposes?” Amelia asked.
“Ha! I don’t think they’ve ever heard of science .” Platinum sneered. “Despite that, I support Helena’s proposition for the genetic tests. I would certainly not want to be ill. Let alone grow old.”
Amelia hid her surprise that Platinum was also willing to defile the temple. She, as someone with a medical background, believed a genetic test was the only logical move at the moment. She also knew, however, that Mikhail had found the idea unacceptable.
“Let’s vote!” Helena proposed.
Constantine gave a brief affirming gesture. “Who agrees on the extraction of genetic material from the Temple of the Dead Immortals?”
“What!? I can’t believe it! He approved it for a vote, for heaven’s sake! He approved it…”
“God damn it, shut up, Nyavolski!” Helena’s hand pierced the air. “Aye!”
Platinum followed, then Lyla Lee, Zia, and the extravagant vampire Sylvester.
“No, no, no…” Nyavolski kept mumbling.
Viktor frowned. “I do not support the desecration of the temple, but seeing as how we’ve discovered cancerous cells in the OR for the second time, I believe it is time to take that step.”
His hand joined in with the rest. A vampire, who often hid her face behind a ball mask, also lifted her hand.
Jaguar sighed. “I will support the idea, although I find it dangerous.”
“Eight ayes,” Dimitri noted. “I guess it won’t happen…”
“I also vote yes.” Amelia dared lift her hand. She felt as if she was betraying Mikhail, but she also believed in genetics.
Constantine observed the hands in the air. “Is that all the ayes? Shall we see the nays?” He waited for them to vote again. “Nine against nine… The deciding vote will be mine.”
The Council Chairman had two votes, but in this case, one would suffice. If Constantine voted against it, the proposition would be rejected.
“I vote against,” he said.
Helena slapped her forehead. “Oh, damn it!”
***
They said the icy abyss of Prokaliya changes a creature.
They said, in the end, all that remains of you is a docile animal that lives by the rules of the prison. You eat what you are told to eat. Sleep when ordered. Obey as instructed. Do as Prokaliya pleased.
They said that is the path of least resistance to survive. They said so much…
Mikhail lay on his abdomen on the ground, the coldness penetrating through the thick fabric of his frost-white prisoner’s clothes.
His palms stuck to the floor, the tip of his shoes digging into the icy ground, and he pushed his body up on his arms, then lowered down.
He repeated the movement, his breaths leaving trails in the air.
Push-ups were much easier when your hands didn’t stick to the ice on the floor, but soon, when his body temperature rose, his skin would become numb to the blazing touch.
He pushed up, already insensible to the cold. To sustain his mind, he had to keep his muscles working. Had to remain mentally and physically strong for when an opportunity for escape would arise.
When he drained his energy and tiredness forced him to cease, the chill resumed.
He collapsed on the bed – a piece of metal protruding from the wall, which couldn’t fit the entire length of his body – and stared at the walls.
Their icy glow created an illusion of moving shapes in the darkness.
He didn’t fear them, but he shuddered at their whispers – the desperate pleas of previous inmates, absorbed and forever confined in the ice.
Yes, he’d also heard about that, but he had always considered it a fantasy story for children.
He ignored the voices, summoning the only face that could make him forget his surroundings.
***
A biting chill crept across Amelia’s skin, forcing her wide awake.
She jerked up in bed and opened her eyes to a translucent blue wall, its icy hues casting eerie shadows.
What the hell? She glanced around and found herself in a tiny chamber – the ceiling hanging low above her head and the walls so close that it was hard to breathe.
She was cornered, with no escape. Her heart pounded in her chest when realisation dawned on her. This was Prokaliya. And she was needed somewhere else, but she couldn’t get there…
Amelia struggled for control over the vision, but as soon as she woke up, the image was gone. Her skin was damp and hot, though her insides felt chilled by black frost.
She raked her fingers through her hair, reliving what she’d seen over and over again.
“Give me more, damn it!” she screamed in frustration, but no one was listening.
Those glimpses of Mikhail’s world had been torturing her for a while. But every time she tried to see more, the image would disappear, leaving her with a heavy heart and dark thoughts.
She shouldn’t have cared as much as she did, but it was hard not to.
His absence was felt throughout the Hospital – in the staff’s eyes, in his friends’ demeanour, and yes, in her own dreams and solitude.
Many times, she’d caught herself thinking of him, of what they’d left unfinished that day. Would they ever get a second chance?
With a new resolve, Amelia paced to the desk and tore a piece of paper. She wrote down:
I’ve been searching for “it” for days, to no avail. Looks like the only way is for M. to give it to me, but he’s still in Prokaliya. Can you get him out?
She balled up the paper. Who else had the power to save Mikhail, if not a semi-goddess?