A Murder of Crows - Chapter 11

"Amelia, you may wish to consider Weasel's words - this place is dangerous. You walk alone in the Realm of Dreams - be careful there, lest you lose your way."
I'd follow her in - if I wasn't afraid of doing more harm than good after the laudanum kicked in...
"As for your idea, Mr. Lafitte, I must say that I like the idea - but not the name. However, I would have to speak with my wife first. She understands my travels for the Legacy, but I wouldn't want to tax her patience too much."

Such "average man" response manages to extract a smile of my worn face.
"Heh. Okay, be sure to talk to the Mrs. But don't mention my real identity."
I turn to the stained glass windows.
"There are others that would be very interested in my whereabouts..."
As if dispelling unpleasant images, I turn to Amelia.
"Don't worry. Math's strength will protect you on the other side, and..." - I gaze at William - "... strong feelings can serve as your anchor."

"No, it probably isn't the safest thing to do," Amelia conceded, "but if I can find anything out that might be useful later on, or even learn what's happened to Math, it's worth the risk." She smiled quickly at William. "I'll be careful."
She swallowed the contents of the vial, wrinkling her nose in distaste, then lay down on the floor. "Besides," she said as she closed her eyes, "You've all risked quite a lot on my behalf already."
Lafitte's words rang in her head as she drifted to sleep...then everything disappeared, and she was somewhere else.

"I do not think that Math is the sort to be laid low easily. In anyevent, I think that he has drawn the attention of the house elsewhere for the time being, if so whatever sacrifices he is making for us, we should use the time gifted us as best we can. Is there anything else that is known of this house or its owner? I have a feeling that we have not even started to reach the depths of evil here." He shivers, and then looks up.
"Oh. Sorry to be so gloomy, but there will be time for cheer later, because some of us ARE going to get out come hell or high water. And when they do...well"
He gets up and makes a slow tour of the room, checking the wall regularly.

The oratory was gone, and Amelia walked in near total darkness, yet she could see clearly the path in front of her. Dreams were strange that way. Studying her surroundings, she could conclude only that she appeared to be traveling down a narrow tunnel, but the walls, as she ran her hands over them, felt earthen and damp. "Where am I?" she whispered aloud, but the sound, instead of echoing in the long tunnel, was swallowed up by silence.
The path turned, sloped upward gradually, and Amelia followed it, glancing back the way she'd come. Darkness blocked the passage behind her in a wall that her eyes could not penetrate. She shivered. It appeared forward was the only direction she was allowed to go.
In front of her, she could see the vague outline of a door take shape some distance down the tunnel, light coming from beneath it. She started toward it, but could not shake the sense that she was being watched. It was the same feeling she'd had before, in the library.

Godfrey is the master here - that is what we all believe. But, then again, what if we were wrong?
"Remember what I said about Godfrey and the druidic death rituals that he wanted used on him? It occurs to me - what if he had done something to make this house strong, a human sacrifice to the gods he worshipped, and he used a druidic ritual to do this?
"What if that is the spirit that is in charge - I think that we need somebody with a working knowledge of druidic rituals. Perhaps Math? If we can lay the spirit of the house to rest, then I think that we can stop Bleakmoore from causing any more harm. So, who wants to go try and get him? Or do any of you know the proper rituals? I have a bit of knowledge, but not much. And I doubt that a German book would have information on a Gaelic rite."

"Oh... you mean like... Split up? Now that's good thinking. Huh."
Weasel sat down at Amelia's sleeping body.
"I hope she is all right..."
He bent forward and whispered "I'll watch you, Amy. I'll protect you.
Just come back safe."

How close to the truth they were...
"We have some options, but not much..."
Oh, Lord...
"Ten years ago, I came back here, drawn by an irresistible drive brought about by Godfrey's curse. It's in the curse that I only realize I'm bound for Bleakmoore when it's too late to turn back. Only that time... my daughter was with me. I tried parlaying with the Heart of Darkness... but it was too strong for my feeble knowledge of magic... I didn't have enough pigeons... It demanded more blood..."
... Oh, ma petit fille... I'm so sorry...
"... It... got more blood."

Amelia pulled open the old and rotting door with an effort, and stepped into a carpeted, musty-smelling room that resembled what little she'd seen of the rest of the manor. She was back in the house...if she'd ever really left. Candles dripped in wall-mounted sconces at odd places around the room, illuminating various pictures on the walls and casting long shadows over the rest of the otherwise bare room.
Seeing no other exits out of the chamber, Amelia instead walked along the walls to examine the paintings. Portraits mostly, of people unknown to her.
Lafitte might know; he would be better suited to this, she thought ruefully. She walked on to the next set...and caught a sudden movement out of the corner of her eye. She froze, then turned slowly to where a figure had separated itself from the shadows and stood watching her at a distance, its face carefully hidden in the darkness. Fear welled up inside her.
In the oratory, Amelia stiffened abruptly in her sleep and whispered aloud, "Who are you?"

"It's me, William." Weasel whispered, looking confused.
He shook his head, clearing his thoughts.
She wasn't talking to him, he realized.
"Remember, this is not real.", he continued. "You're only dreaming."

"Does anyone have a plan to wake her up if she gets in trouble? I have some smelling salts, but I'm not sure they'd be enough.
"As for whether or not we should split up, I must admit it isn't an idea that I like too much. But having Math around might be enough to help turn the tables.
"As for your daughter, Lafitte, I am sorry for you. And it wouldn't have been that you didn't have enough pidgeons - it would have been that you didn't have a human to give it. The Gods of the Druids demanded sacrifices depending on the power of the favor you asked - human sacrifice was what Godfrey thought keeping this house alive would take, and that was what he did. Perhaps by drowning her out on the moors, or maybe entombing her within the walls.
The...walls..." I seem to trail off into thought, and then I pull out my derringer and calmly load it with nothing but regular bullets.
"Lafitte, are you sure that there aren't any hollows in this part of the house? Perhaps a hidden chamber where a person could be entombed within the oratory walls - as you have noticed yourself, this place seems to be a sort of center for the force in this house - the holy water is only the most obvious clue. If we can find the body and give it rest, even if by Christian service, I feel that we could at least come closer to ending this.
"Anything else we do would be insurance." I carefully pull out the black vial, and gingerly set it down on top of the bag.
"If we had to, I could blow the walls apart. This vial has a small charge of nitroglycerine in it, well padded." I notice that they all look surprised, and I answer the unspoken question. "I keep it in case I should ever be attacked by one of the demons of the night that might be able to change me into one of them - to avoid that curse, I would rather die by my own hand. But dying inside this house would not do more than liberate our spirits to be trapped within its walls. So, does anybody know where I should start looking?"

Trent finishes his tour of the room.
"Well the walls all seem to be solid enough, though a body might be sealed in at floor level. At any rate, anything solid breaking in here is going to be fairly obvious at least. As for trying to find Math, I think that would be a very bad idea. He knows where we are, and this place does seem to provide some safty. A search party is more likely to get into trouble than anything else. Besides there are not enough of us to split safely anyway."

Sigh. "I suppose you're right." What to do about all this?
"Does anybody here have religious training? Perhaps exorcisms? Maybe we could weaken the haunting force." I finger the amulet I'm wearing - Godfrey was an associate of the Legacy, much like Vlad was - a renegade. Perhaps...Just for good measure, I pull the amulet out of my outfit, showing an ornate "L".
"Godfrey loathed the Legacy, once he split with them. Perhaps, as this force hated Godfrey, it would view those who are his enemies as its allies." I look at their strange stares. "It's the best idea I can come up with." So tired... I consider taking some of the laudanum I carry with me...but no, that might introduce too many random elements into Amelia's dreamwalk. And it would leave me free to be the House's next victim.

With all the talking, Amelia continues her dreaming, the world around her not one of flesh and stone, but of word and image.
Deep within the dream of Amelia, she watches as the shadows slowly twist around the figure. The entire body hidden by twisting shadow, she can only make out the slightest aspects of this figure. It seemed tall, and lithe. Briefly revealing pale, blusish skin and pointed ears, the figure hardly seemed real as it moved towards her, the shadows clinging to it like spiderwebs.
A faint, omnious yet childlike laugh emerges from all around, panning about the dream faintly.

In the oratory, Amelia shifted restlessly in her sleep, still murmuring aloud, her voice low and tight with fear.
Dreaming, she watched with a mixture of fascination and dread as the figure and its shifting shadows moved towards her. She backed away from it, until she felt her back pressed up against the wall.
"I know you," she said, "I heard you-that laugh-before. What do you want with us?"

Deep in Amelia's dream, the figure laughed, an impish cackle that seemed to come from it and all around at once. With a step, it appears at Amelia's side, caressing her dreamcheek with a shadowed hand.
"What I want... is what the House wants, child..."
Suddenly, it is by a portrait, tall and dark. The face is obscured, but an almost palpable evil radiates from it.
"He binds me... He keeps me...."
The figure appears, as smoothly as a liquid shadow, next to another portrait, that of a beautiful woman. Her face is pale, and dark black hair falls past her shoulders. A haunting beauty radiates from her, and a deep mourning.
"So I make them free... free as me... She came to me.... I made her free...."
The figure appears once more, eight canvases on the floor. Shadows seem to pool about its fingers as it traces lines on the canvas.
"I will make you free... all will be free... free as me...."
The figure looks up to Amelia as the shadows quickly disappear. Revealed for a moment is a face, achingly beautiful. Statuesque and high-born, the features are at once fragile and commanding. Long, pointed ears, and gentle, almond eyes outline the too pale and thin face. The eyes, though, gleam with a feral edge. Deep in her heart, Amelia recognizes what she sees.... a face from her nightmares....
And with a shattering giggle, the figure is gone... leaving Amelia in that hall of shadows and portraits...

"William, Amelia is twiching a bit. We'd better put her on the floor so she doesn't fall. She can use my coat as a pillow."
This girl is facing terrible powers for our sake. Such selflessness may be her best hope for survival.
"Okay, we need a plan, and we need it now. There are two places in the Manor where we can confront the Heart of Darkness."
Trent jumps at the opportunity to do something. Karl and Frank listen attentively. William and Sarah keep themselves busy with Amelia. If only Math were here, we could stand a better chance.
"Godfrey is buried in the Mausoleum in the backyard, some 200 yards from the Manor's backdoor. The bad news is, it's on the other side of a small marsh. And his trophy room is in the higfh tower of the manor, on the west wing. These are two places I've never been, but they are our best shot."

"I'll take the trophy room, if nobody else will. I'm not fond of marshes - and it's still raining outside." Just the thought of all that water makes me shiver... Better to risk falling than drowning, as I've learned too well in the past.

Amelia slid weakly to her knees in the wake of the creature's departure, unable to shake the feeling of its touch. So cold, she thought, wild and unnatural...beautiful and deadly. A being that shouldn't even exist, but did. But why here?
"Did you know all along, Math?" she asked the shadows softly. "Is that why you're here?"
Get up, Amelia, she told herself firmly. Now was not the time to dwell on things she might never understand. She rose to her feet and faced the portraits the creature had shown her, determined to commit as many details as she could discern to memory. She noticed with a growing unease that the shadows were getting thicker, puddling around her and blurring the details of the room.
"I will make you free...all will be free...free as me..."
The creature's voice teased her thoughts. It was too much. "No!" Amelia screamed, as the shadows reached out to swallow her.
In the oratory, Amelia's scream echoed off the walls as she awoke from the dream. She sat up, eyes unfocused, trying to make sense of where she was. Her body felt cold, and she realized she was shaking. She couldn't seem to stop.

"She's awake." I move over towards Amelia's side, wondering if I should wait and let Weasel check her out first - but no, waiting isn't the best thing we could do in this place. I pull a small flask out of my other pocket, and open it, wincing slightly at the strong smell.
"Here. Take a sip of this - brandy. It should help to warm you up."

"If only this whole thing was a nightmare!"
He looks at Karl.
"I'll come with you, tower or swamp, makes no real differance. But anyone who is not comming should stay here. Amelia, Weasel and Sarah at least."
He glances at Claude and Frank.
"And someone else to guard them from harm."
He raises an eyebrow in queary.
"But don't leave this room, else I fear we may never find each other again."
He turns back to Karl.
"Ready when you are."

"This is more of a nightmare than you know, lad."
His voice quiet, he speaks with none knowing his presence beforehand. Standing on the other side of the still sealed doors, briefcase in hand, and his suit not even ruffled, is Math. He stands with a calm strength and deep sadness. As you turn to look at him, he begins walking towards the group.
"I will stay here, with Sarah and Amelia, William as well, if he wishes. There is something that must be done, and here is the black heart of the House's nightmare. I would explain, but I fear we don't have enough time."
I turn to Karl, and LaFitte, nodding.
"Watch your backs, lads. What you will be facing isn't glamor. It will be flesh and bone. The time for your dreams are over."
Turning back to Amelia, I kneel beside her.
"Lass.... you saw him, didn't you?"

It's like seeing a candle after a month-long night. Thank you, Lord.
"Good to see you again, Math. I was fearing the worse."
"The worse is yet to come, lad. Look at your watch..."
I pull out my pocket timepiece and look at the small iron hands.
"Oh, God. It's..."
BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG!...
I start yelling under the physical reverberation of the grandfather clock directky below us.
"IT'S THE FIFTH HOUSE! MIDNIGHT! WE HAVE NO TIME TO WASTE!"
BONG! BONG! BONG! BONG!...
I can barely hear Trent speaking to me.
"SO WHAT WILL IT BE? THE TROPHY ROOM OR THE MAUSOLEUM?"
BONG! BONG! BONG! BONGgggggg.....
"I WILL TAKE... sorry, I will take the low road. My hands put Godfrey in that grave, and my eyes will see him there."
I turn to Math.
"I'd better go alone. If the Heart of Darkness is in the trophy room, at least I will distract its minions. If not..."
...
"... It's been a long life anyway."

The powerful tolling of the clock and the familiar sound of Karl and Math's voices broke through Amelia's stupor, and she blinked, seeing the room and the others around her as if for the first time. She raised a still-shaking hand and pushed the strong-smelling drink Karl offered her away. "Thank you, but it never really helps," she said quietly. She looked up at Math as his question registered, wondering if she might still be asleep. Then, the memory of the dream threatening to slip away from her, she grabbed his arm in an urgent grip, as if he too might disappear again. She spoke hurriedly, relating all the events of her dream to the others: the tunnel, the room, the dark portraits and moving shadows...and the creature who hid in them.
When she'd finished, Amelia found her nerves had calmed somewhat, her trembling lessoned.
"Are you all right?" she asked suddenly, looking Math over again, relieved but still confused by his presence. "What happened to you?"

Weasel was still stitting aside Amelia, holding her hand. He smiled weakly when she came to, but fear showed in his eyes.
He looked at Claue, then back at Amelia, indecisive about what to do.
"Look... you've never been in the mausoleum... You can't go in there alone."
He stood up, his fingers still linked with Amelia's.
"I... I will go with you."