Mortimer Deem visited me a week later, teleporting into my apartment without warning and causing Vela to drop the books she was bringing me.
I heard her shrill shriek and darted out of the Little Library and immediately saw them in the hall. Deem waving his arms in apology. Vela looking shocked.
"I'm sorry," he prattled. "I thought it would be easier than taking the elevator, and the gentleman downstairs refused to send a message! I didn't mean to startle you, young lady. Perhaps I can assist…"
Vela scowled, scooping the books up before he could touch them.
I stepped up beside her and patted her on the head.
"I left express instructions that I was not be disturbed," I told the old man.
"Yes, well… We hired you for a task. It's only fair we get regular updates?" He beamed at me, eyes twinkling. "It's in the contract, you know."
"I have no update to share," I told him.
"Come now, Count," he said. "You were laughing quite merrily when we parted last time. So, I know you have a sense of humour. No need to be grumpy. Us old folk should loosen up a little, don't you think? I don't suppose I could trouble you for a cup of tea now I'm here?"
"Umm," Vela clutched the books tightly to her chest, her fingers hiding their titles. I owed her another pat on the head, I thought. "We don't have any tea. No one here drinks it."
"Vela, could you take those books to the Library, please?"
"Yes, Master."
"Oh dear," he sighed, watching her scamper away. "I could really use a tea, too. I had some distressing news today, Count. Someone killed a member of our order, and everyone's been running around trying to find out who it is. It's a very strange thing. It looks like he was foully murdered mid-Ritual. A dangerous time to murder someone like that, don't you think?"
I decided I did not like this man.
"It depends on the Ritual," I said, waving my hand dismissively.
"We couldn't see anything had been stolen, which is also strange. Well. Other than the grimoire he would've been reading from when he was killed." The old man lazily scratched at his head as though thinking hard. "Must've been one Hell of grimoire, eh? To go to the lengths of breaking into a sorcerer's home like that? Risking annihilation by killing him mid-Ritual. Takes big stones to do that. Real big stones. What kind of man would do that?"
"If you wish to hire me for a murder investigation, Deem, you can draw up another contract."
"Ho ho! I might just do that!" He locked eyes with me, eyes suddenly frosty. "I wonder what it is you'd find. Gibbon was a friend of mine, Count. A very good friend."
"I'm very busy, you know."
"Oh?" He raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to kill Crowley any time soon? You really need to work faster. He summoned the remaining members of his little cadre and they've begun arriving. He has to be stopped before he can complete the Ritual!"
"What Ritual?"
"The one to release Chronzon into the world!"
"Yes, but which ritual is that, Deem? Do you know?"
"Of course I don't know! You're the only one with a deep understanding of abyssal magic. That's why we let-" He stopped himself. Then all pretence of an eccentric and jovial old man died in his eyes and his mouth twisted into a smirk. "Smart bastard, aren't you?"
"I'm very old, you know." I leaned on my own cane. I might not need it so much, but it had become a comfort to me. I had gotten used to it. "You aren't the first to try and take advantage of me."
"Well," he shrugged as if it wasn't important. "It doesn't change anything. Crowley must be stopped. You know it as much as I do. He's a man with a silver tongue. Not a powerful sorcerer. He can't hope to control such a thing. Elder Gods aren't to be trifled with for a reason."
"What?" I pretended shock. "It's not a demon he's trying to summon?"
"No need to rub it in," he growled, tapping his cane petulantly.
"You held back information from me."
"You would have figured it out anyway."
"And perhaps died in the process."
"You're a vampire. You can come back. I'll have someone squirt blood on your ashes or something. Rat blood, so you can come back as a rodent!"
"It makes me wonder what else you're hiding from me." I said. "Are you sure it's Chronzon?"
"That's the name he calls it." The old man said.
"Hmm."
"You know the name, don't you?" His smile was wide, but there was something else in it, too.Something he tried hard to hide. Envy. He coveted what I knew. "I know you recognised it. Many of my colleagues think he invented it. But he didn't, did he?"
"Perhaps I thought it a bastardized version of Chronos."
"Bah!" He looked like he wanted to fight. But forced himself quickly to calm. "You keep your secrets, then. But a relationship can't be built without trust! You'd best remember that, Count."
With that, he snapped out a few words of power and wind whipped around him as his talisman teleported him out of the building.
"You're right about that," I muttered, turning on my heels and heading to the Library.
My Bloodline was singing. My veins roaring through my body.
Rage.
Deem had entered my home without warning. I had nothing which could stop him. Not yet. If he chose, he could appear during the day while I was in Torpor. My Renfields couldn't stop him.
I'd be ash and never know it.
The thought of it was a humiliation, and I couldn't let it stand.
"Master," Vela gave me a curtsey as I strode angrily into the Library. "Is everything okay?"
"It's fine," I growled. Then sighed, pushing my temper down. It would do no good to be simmering now. "I am disturbed at how easily he entered the building. That's all. I need to regain some of my memories so I can prevent it from happening again."
"We believe in you, Master!" Molly chirped from where she sat, cross-legged on the floor surrounded by books.
"Hmm." I dropped into my chair. At least I didn't feel so exhausted. My Bloodline was working, taking more of the burden from my broken Meridians. The weariness still dogged me if I moved around too much, but it was lessening.
I had even begun to look slightly younger, something which I think was pleasing the Renfields. I'd heard them giggling about it.
Shaking my head to clear my thoughts, I picked up the book I had written in what seemed like another life. I couldn't remember writing it. I couldn't remember using it.
I could only remember that it was mine, and that it was the key to understanding the magic of the Void and everything which existed within the Abyss.
When I had mastery of it, I could achieve great miracles.
Miracles I desperately needed if I wanted the safety I needed to concentrate more thoroughly on repairing my Meridians. If I tried anything now, I was certain I would have more unwanted visitors.
My fingers ran across the tired old leather cover.
The embossed words of the title.
Sophomancy and the Abyss.
I wondered why void wasn't mentioned in the title. I had the distinct feeling that Void and Abyss were two separate things. Yet, it seemed they were used in the text interchangeably. Also in other texts.
Deem had referred to the Abyss as though it was demonic.
Which he might believe. It was difficult to fathom his actual knowledge.
But THE Abyss, called Hell, was entirely different again.
I knew this much instinctively but couldn't grasp the actual reason. I knew somewhere in my memories the meaning was clearly understood. It had to be for the instinct to feel so strong.
I opened the book once more.
This time, perhaps driven by the sullen anger bubbling away beneath the surface of my mind, I told myself I wasn't going to let it hide its secrets from me.
This time, I would peel them away.
Strip them from the pages.
And make them mine again.
***
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