Chapter 24
CHARLIE
Islither inside the chapel leaving a trail of cold wind in my wake.
I had come close, so close. Yet the boy did not trust me. Even after months of gaining his confidence. He had listened so well each time I had played his father’s voice inside his head.
I snake my way down, beneath the tombs, deep underground towards the catacombs where my mistress lies.
I reach the circular room. Each one of her disciples surround her still body that lies on top of the stone altar. They chant the words she taught us all, the magical words of eternal life. I slip between their legs, around the skirts of heavy red robes and wind myself around my mistress.
“Is it done?” She whispers.
“He would not give me the book.” I brace myself for her fury, but it does not come.
“No need to fret, my darling.” She sits up, her dark skin is now fully regenerated, locks of straight back hair fanning over her shoulders. “We don’t need the book. We just need her.”
The chanting stops.
“You know what it is you have to do.” She says to her disciples. One by one, they file out, red robes swishing behind them.
“Where are they going?” I ask.
“To the university. She will be there again come September, I’ve made sure of it.”
“How?”
“Because she trusts me. They all trust me.” I smile at my mistress. At her cleverness. Her hand glides across my scales, and I shiver under her touch. My shadows can only ever be felt by her. And it has been so long since I last relished in her caress.
“Soon, everything will be just as it was.”