A Murder of Crows - Chapter 16

Shaking his head, Karl finally recovers from his apparent madness.
"What in God's name happened here?" I look around the room at the scene of the battle that has just finished.
"Good God, It's coming! We've got to get out of here... Trent! Trent! We need your help in here, damn it!" Looking at Math and William, I wonder which of them I should try to help first...
"Amelia, if you can, help William out of here." Quickly strapping Flagrate to my waist, I reach down and hook an arm under Math, lifting him up enough that I can try and carry him out. "I only hope that you can get out, under your own power or that of Trent..."

I burst the chapel door ajar, strength dimming from my body. The cold that once lingered so close to my soul is gone, but I can feel Age and Time racing up to catch with me, like old lovers I once forgot. My time is running out.
I measure up the scene, and race towards the crumbling shape of Math.
"You did it, old friend. He's gone. I know it. But we're not out of danger yet."
I feel Math's half-awakened gaze upon me, and our bond tells me his answer: "I know."
I turn to Amelia, and see her helping/being helped by William. Trent, Karl, Sarah and Frank seem to be recovering. But I hate to spoil their sense of victory.
"The chains that hold this place - and us in it - are loose. We must make for the main gates before the Manor is claimed by the crimson mist out there. Don't ask, just run as quick as you can. We will have to cross the red fog, and it will stir up the worst in us - all of us. Try and remain focused, and pay no heed to any distractions. Think of the gates and GO THERE!"
Helping Math, I lead this crew to the stairs.
Death is so close now...

Amelia pulled herself to her feet, answering the urgency in Lafitte's voice. She moved with the others, grasping William's arm as if to reassure herself that they were both still in one piece.
"Come on," she murmured wearily, "I don't want to miss the sunrise."

Weasel struggles to his feet.
His clothes hang in shreds from his body.
He looks around, dazed.
His eyes rest on Claude, and a frown crosses his face.
"hey... Claude... you suddenly look a lot o..."
As he tries to point out his discovery, a shiver goes through the floor.
He looks down in wonder.
"What the...?"
Then a few floor boards snap, sending shreds of timber flying through the room. The wood beneath the altar gives way, and then it plummets through the floor with a thundering roar.

"THE FLOOR IS COLLAPSING!!!"
I help/push Math towards the stairs, but I see Sarah, shaking in fear, as the flight of stairs she's at suddenly tilts to the side. She grabs one of the wall-lamps, and stretches her arm towards us.
"Dammit! Karl, Trent! Grab her!!!"
I turn to Math.
"We must leave now, Math... The thing that taints all it touches wants the Manor, and us in it... We must go!"

Still unconscious, and still bleeding, my limp body doesn't respond. Deep inside I hear the words, but the battle there is one far deeper then any semblance of consciousness can show.

Hearing Claude's yell, I turn back and run into the room. Seeing the place begin to fall apart, I gulp suddenly. Seeing Sarah, I rush towards her.
"Gott in himmel! I hope that you can help us out of here, Bradshaw - or, at least, not slow us down!" If I hadn't drained myself so badly, casting that banishment, I'd try to buy myself some time - but Math and I both are too weak for that now. Moving towards the door, I start praying that the floor doesn't fall any faster - and that the rest of the house is in enough pieces for us to get out of.
"Just what floor ARE we on? If we had to jump, would it be dangerous?"

The crashes from the chapel stur a consiousness in the receses of Trents mind. He faintly recognises someone calling a name. He walked towards a door and opened it. He looked about, recognition filtering in. The library?
"Hello?" Said in almost a whisper.
The Library/Chapel door opens and several of the others come through, carrying Math.
The roof creaks, moans and then a section collapses falling down onto bookcases. They crack and splinter as the solid oak beams hit them. Books fly everywhere. Though obstructed by debrie the stairs are still manageable.
Light floods into the library. It fills the gloomy room and bounces of the polished swords and armor.
In the breaking light Trent blinks once, and then in an intense flash of mind he breaks free of the influence of the house.
"Karl! Pass Math down to me."
He shouts as he runs to the foot of the stairs, almost comming to grief on the wooden debrie.

"Take him!" I pass Math down to Trent, and look around the crumbling house.
"With the spirit gone, the walls collapse. May the souls of those trapped within be at rest. And may we get out of this place before we join them!" The door - here's hoping that the illusions are done as well! I start running for them, but find only a solid wall.
"Damn! Well, looks like now's the time to take a short cut! Stand back, everybody!" I take one of the small vials of nitro out of my bag and throw it at the wall (making sure I'm out of the blast radius, of course!). A rather large hole appears once the smoke clears, but now a small fire is spreading!
"Come on!" I continue towards the door, the others following as fast as they can.

The blast almost deafens me. Never liked cannons much, anyway...
But what seems to be our salvation from the crumbling house also exposes us to the foul touch of the crimson fog that by now has sorrounded the whole building. The red tint that now spreads through the morning sky pales in comparison to the rich blood-like color that clings us...
"We're outside! Run to the gates! And don't pay any attention to the distractions! It's all in our ..."
"Papa?"
"... minds..."
Is it her? Is it --
"Blanche? Ma chérie? Ça 'cest vou?"

My unconscious form seems to stir violently in my sleep, and a coughing fit hits. I mumble incoherently between coughs, and my spasms seem to grow worse.
It almost seems like I am battling something, something only I can see and hear.
Outside the rays of dawn continue spread, setting fire to the blood in the sky.

"Damn it, Claude, we don't have..." Suddenly, I hear the faint yowl of a cat trapped by something - something Other. I begin feeling the cold chill of the grave reaching towards me from afar...
"Himmel! Himmel, where are you?" The cat's voice is joined by the roar of a tiger - a tiger in pain, the roar mixed with the scream of a dying woman. Karl turns back towards the house, and starts running in, fear coursing through his entire body. In explanation, there is only a single cry of terror:
"Anna!"

"No! Karl."
Trent turns and takes a step forward to try and stop him, only then remembering that he has Math over his shoulder. He pauses with indicision. Then with a sigh turns back and carries Math away from the house. He does not notice the red mist clinging to his boots.
He heads toward the stables.

Amelia found the mist clinging to her like a living thing, and after a moment realized that she was apart from the others.
Where had they gone?
"Trent?" she called as she glimpsed a figure coming toward her through the mist. It stopped several feet away, and Amelia recognized him. Not again...no more, she thought as the illusion of her father again stared at her in the surreal fog. As she watched, the phantom shape burst into red-black flames and cried out, reaching for her.
Amelia screamed. She trembled violently but did not run, would not look away until the illusion faded reluctantly away. The mist seemed to thin slightly around her.
"Karl...Claude!" she yelled. "Trent! Don't believe in it...it's dream-mist and nightmare, it will fade. It will burn away." She waited, and willed the awakening sun to fulfill that promise.

"Blanche? You're an dead... You're an illusion..."
I hold her small body in my arms, hugging her and feeling the warmth of my lost one. Tears stream down my cheeks.
I hear a voice in my mind. Not as solid as Cuthien's had once been, but far, FAR more terrible in its seduction...
"Yes, Jean... This Blanche is but an illusion... But isn't this illusion far more desirable than the reality you now reside in?"
"Ma fillette... Ma petitte..."
"She will be returned to you, Jean... As will your wife... And all of your friends... All the things you lost when the President banned you from Barataria... You will be recognised as the hero you are... Just give yourself to me, Jean... You know you want to... You're feeling so, so tired..."
"Oh, mon dieu..."
I think of all I have suffered in more than a century... All I have given up for this country, and all it has taken from me... The red voice in my mind is right... Why keep fighting? ...
"Welcome, Jean..."
I feel the terrible embrace of the fog, the weight of the ages, the utter diregard for all life...
I feel the Red Death. And it is in me.

Coughing mightily, I lurch off of Trent's shoulder, collapsing to the ground. My eyes open, blazing with a deep power. Blood still covering my suit, I stand, my vibrant green eyes showing centuries upon centuries of exhaustion.
"No...." I murmur, standing unsteadily.
"No... I will... run no more." I take a step towards the House, unsteady. Nearly falling, I land on one knee. Rising up again, I take a another step.
"You hear me, Advesary. I will run no more!" Standing, barely steady, I raise my hand, intoning words in a language beautiful, yet terribly dangerous. The fog begins to part for a moment, but begins to roll back in.
I close my eyes, my entire body shaking in the exertion of my will. My hand begins to glow a soft yellow as my intoning continues. The fog is pushed back once more, and my chanting voice in a language forgotten continues to grow in volume and fervor. I eyes open, and my left hand joins the right in front of me. Both are glowing brightly.
Around me, the fog is pushed back as if by a strong wind.
Finally, words of English once more emerge from my mouth.
"BEWARE! All of you! It is a lie! They are all lies! It is a trap! JEAN! IT IS A TRAP!!!"

My voice is almost alien as it echoes through the morning air.
"Aye. And it is about time it was sprung."
In my mind I hear a cocophony of sounds. Screams. Gunshots. Animal snarls. Sounds of violence and despair. But through it all, one voice shines like the North Star. A voice I heard almost twenty years ago, in Amsterdam.
"Remember, my friend. No good can ever come from associating with the Red Death."
I have not forgotten, Abraham.
Slowly, I turn around to face the gigantic mass of red fog that is coalescing behind me, like an octopus from an alien Hell.
"Give me what I want. What you've been keeping from me."
My mind echoes with an answer I'm sure the others can feel.
"BEG!"
And I fall to my knees before the ghostly aberration.
"... please..."
"Very well. I have no need for her anymore."
I open my eyes as soon as I hear the light footsteps approaching me. At first it seems a phantom. But a father can't really be fooled.
"... papa?..."
"Go to the man in the black suit, Blanche. Papa will be there soon."
"... oui, papa..."
I wait until she's near Math, who is shouting words I can't make out.
I hate it that my last words to my daughter have been lies. Take care of her, mon ami.
"You have what you desired the most, Lafitte! Now you join us forever!"
"No, I don't..."
"How DARE you deny us, who have plagued this universe ever since your ancestors learned to kill?"
Take care of her, Math...
"My greatest desire. And I earn it now."
"AND WHAT IS IT?"
Adieu, ma petitte...
The last orichalcum bullet.
Checkmate, Adversary.
.
Bang.
.
"Redemption..."

*Just an illusion...
Anna's scream, and Himmel's yowling, still come out of the house but, hearing the words of the others, remembering what happened earlier...
Damn it, this house - or something inside it - is playing our fears and dreams off of us! Claude!*
Turning, I see him facing the mist. This could be his last chance at saving himself and, if he's not very careful, he would go down with the ship he was trying so hard to save - his soul.
"In God's name, let what must happen happen, and what must not happen cease to be." No magic left - completely drained - Claude's on his own in this fight, as all are. I start running away from the house, towards the others, praying that they aren't all just another trick.

Fighting the mist of the Adversary itself was never an easy accomplishment, especially for a man suffering from a stab wound to the belly.
Well, I think, at least it's not as deep as it could be....
Deep in mind's eye, I remember the dark fog as it rolled across those green hills that one night, so many, many nights ago. Like the coming of a nightmare, he had felt it in the depths of his soul. The Adversary had come at last to his homeland to claim what he had been denied. In the morning, not a single Sidhe was uncorrupted. Mab had seen to that.
They had gathered together, all that remained of the Seelie. Together, they cast the corrupted Sidhe across the Seal, into what was once the Splendour. It was their brother's sacrifice that had made it all possible. His choice to cross over, where no mortal dared step foot, to make certain the Seal held.
Sacrifice...
A shot rang out in the fog, and I am shaken from my reverie. With a grim knowledge, I continue to keep the mist back with my will alone.
"May you find your peace in death that was denied in life, Jean. Sleep well..."
Closing my eyes for a moment of mourning, I hear a sound. Like the footsteps of a child... a small child... maybe....
"OVER HERE!" I shout. "Blanche! Over here!"
Perhaps she heard my shout. Perhaps something greater guided her. Stumbling out of the fog is a child in whom I recognize the features of Jean. Knowing it could only be his daughter, I smile weakly to her. I raise my voice again.
"Amelia! Trent! Willaim! Sarah! Anybody!"
In the mist, the echo of the gunshot remains.
"Beannacht Dé leat, a cara. Sleep well."

Blanche looks up to The Man in The Black Suit. He seems very sad. He must be a friend of Papa.
"Don't cry, monsieur. Papa is with Mama now."
The Man in The Black Suit opens his eyes wide. He gives off a tender smile, as the rising sun reaches them.
"You're right, child. You're absolutely right."
They both turn to the Others that are approaching them. Some look pretty hurt. The Tall Man turns to The Man in The Black Suit.
"What do we do now, mister?"
Blanche looks at them. Since no one gives an answer...
"Well, I'm hungry..."
The following laughter is warmer than the rising sun. Blanche smiles. The Man in The Black Suit turns to her.
"You ARE your father's daughter, child. Come, let's find some place to eat."
"Then can I go to France and see Auntie Heléne?"
"Of course, child, of course."
The group of Papa's Friends head out of the Dark House. In her heart, Blanche knows she'd never return there. And she knows that, no matter where she goes, Papa will always be with her. Blanche feels tears coming to her eyes. This time, she lets them through. Tears of sadness, because Papa would never hug her again. But also tears of joy, because Papa would never be sad again.
"... j-je t'aime, Papa. b-bon voyage..."
Through the morning air, a voice can almost be heard, in the wind and in the trees. A fallen friend not one of them would ever forget.
"Set sail, mates!"

Trent leaves the still shakey Math and heads into the stable. He reapears a few moments later leading his horse.
He walks her up to the group and stops by the girl.
"I don't pretend to know what you have been through, but you will be safe enough now, if you are tired then you can ride up here," he pats the saddle. "She will not let you fall."