My Little Ventrue Pt. 08 Ch. 06

"Sabrina," Clara said, tone of her voice suggesting she knew this ghost, "don't worry. Jack is just... uh... a little troubled. Something's wrong with him. Damien's his friend and staked him for his own good, but he'll be fine. Ok?" She spoke like speaking to a child. It sounded terribly condescending to Damien, but to Sabrina, it was apparently the exact right thing to say, and way to say it.

"Ok. Ok." She let go of Jack, floated higher, stopped at ten feet up, and hovered around in a circle. Mist flowed from where her feet and shins should have been, and one of her legs still looked blurrier than the other. "Take good care of him! He said Mister Mire is dead, so he must be the last of the master's bloodline."

Everyone looked around at each other as confusion turned into comprehension, and took a step back from the boy. Damien sheathed his sword, scooped Jack up onto his shoulder, and smiled up at the ghost.

"We'll take good care of him," he said.

"He will," Clara added. "So, Fiona... and Athalia. That tear--"

"Open!" Fiona said with a big bright smile, totally at odds with the gloomy train graveyard atmosphere. "We can go back whenever ye want."

"I think now would be as good a time as any. I am fucking thirsty."

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~~Natasha~~

They found something. She'd hoped they wouldn't find something, but they did find something, and that meant things. Bad things.

She and the boys crept along, and she wrapped them well in her Cloak. Damien had been practicing with her sire regularly, but so had she. He focused on speed, but to her, the ability to stealth and sneak was the better skill to focus on. So she wrapped herself and the boys up in her Cloak of Night, and the three of them crept toward the Grand Cathedral.

It. Was. Terrifying. The cathedral didn't look like it did in the city; like everything in the Hisil, it was a warped version of its physical sibling. Colossal gargoyles perched atop towering pillars, and the ornate facing circling the roof rose into gigantic points, each topped with curling spears. A cross sat upon the highest point in the center of the cathedral's roof, gigantic, and the sky around it glowed red. It hadn't glowed nearly as red from a distance, but now that they were close to it, it blanketed the sky. From whichever angle she looked at the giant cross, the red sky highlighted it, so it looked like it was bleeding.

The fence around the cathedral was much bigger in the Hisil, topped with giant spikes, and each spike was topped with a statue of an angel. Maybe it was some sort of reference to how angels could dance on the head of a pin, but more likely, it was a statement of how angels, warriors of God, were not to be trifled with, evidently immune to the tips of the spears they stood on. Some of them were smiling, some of them were frowning, all of them were naked and beautiful, perfect examples of peak physical condition, and all armed with a sword and two angel wings.

Damien probably would have found the Shadow Realm version of the Grand Cathedral to be a powerful and majestic sight. Powerful, yes, but to her, it was creepy.

The parking lot was gone. Instead, the main gate opened up to a long, narrow path of dark asphalt, while all around it sat bushes with sharp branches, each covered in thorns. Another metaphor, something about the road to Heaven or God. The path stopped at the stairs of the cathedral, and the stairs were really, really big. Climbing up them would be tough for any human.

She was surprised there wasn't a big needle head people, or spirits, would have to jump through to get into the building.

Natasha, Matthew, and Arturo sat outside the gate, and looked on from a distance, as two red, hovering creatures with long claws flowed down the path toward them. A small growl drew Natasha's attention, and she looked down at Arturo; he was transformed into his wolf form, and Matthew too. Red wraiths. Taking a cue from his noise, she took them back further and further, and the three of them went completely silent as the two spirits started to talk.

And she didn't understand a single word. It almost sounded Egyptian, but it definitely wasn't. It sounded older, less refined, and harsher.

She looked down at the boys, and the two of them stared at the two wraiths with ears up and pointed. Whatever the spirits were saying, the boys understood it, and from how they were raising their lips in silent snarls, they didn't like what they heard.

Natasha reached into her coat, withdrew her sword, and crouched even lower, until she was head level with the two wolves. They backed up and up, keeping their bodies to the huge fence that circled the cathedral, until they eventually worked their way past the fence corner. There were no nearby structures, leaving only grass between the cathedral and other buildings. A long, winding path led to Three Kings Cemetery, but a look back into that darkness, with her special Auspex to pierce the blackness, showed nothing. They were in the clear to keep eavesdropping.

The two spirits didn't say much. It wasn't like people went around announcing their plans, though she doubted these spirits thought and acted with the same individualism and awareness of people. But they were talking, more strange words she didn't get, but one word stabbed her through the chest. Maria. There was no translation for Maria, it was a name, and they said it.

The three of them merged into the darkness the fence cast onto the grass, nothing but shadows, and the two wraiths drifted by. As they moved on, Matthew, the larger wolf, took a step forward, but Arturo nudged the wolf with his snout and stopped him. The wraiths continued on, and on, until they disappeared into the city heading toward the entertainment district of South Side.

Arturo transformed back into human shape, and remained crouched beside her. Matthew did the same, though he didn't transform as smoothly as Arturo did.

"They were talking about some sort of plan," Art said. "Something about a ritual that will make blood flow."

She shivered. "Make b-blood flow?"

"Yeah. They said a few more tears, and the ritual will work."

She frowned, sheathed her sword, and took a deep breath. "Did they mention Maria?"

"They... did," Matthew said, tone sad. He knew she knew they did. "Said something about Maria will soon be ready to trigger the ritual."

"They said rituals will make blood flow. They said the tears will m-make rituals work. They said... M-Maria will trigger the ritual. In three different sentences?"

Art nodded with a weak shrug. "The First Tongue isn't very good at describing linked logic or events in single sentences. Things get broken up."

"And... and you're sure they said--"

"They said Maria," Matthew said. "Come on, you heard it, I know you did. I saw you flinch."

She frowned at the big man, but it didn't last long. "C-Come on, let's investigate the cathedral."

"You sure?" Art asked. "We know what we wanted to know."

"It's strange for these spirits to be hanging out here, r-right?"

"Not if they work for Maria. Right?"

She shook her head. "Maria's smart, very smart. She w-wouldn't leave a trail. Spirits hanging around her d-den is a trail."

Arturo squatted down in front of her as he looked around. "Maybe she started this deal with spirits before we showed up? So she assumed no one would track her movement in the Hisil. Figured her den was a safe place to do her work?"

"Maybe... maybe." If Maria had to do something extreme, like create a ritual site or something like Jacob might do, to give her the tools required to communicate with spirits, then it made sense for her to do it somewhere she felt secure.

Except, Damien often slept in her den now, and said he found nothing to suggest she had a ritual site or anything like that. And Natasha still couldn't help but feel Maria would create such a ritual site -- or whatever she'd need -- in a place that wasn't her den. Too many unknowns. Not enough evidence. There was only one option: investigate further.

"Let's go in," she said.

The two boys looked at her like she'd lost her marbles.

"Uh, my nose is picking up something," Matt said. "There's something in there."

"I will keep us hidden." To her surprise, her voice was solid. This was important. She wasn't going to allow another Minerva situation over a misunderstanding.

Art frowned at her, frowned at Matt, frowned at the cathedral, and sighed. "Alright."

She nodded, and continued around the corner, toward the back of the cathedral. If it was anything like the cathedral in Dolareido, there'd be a lot going on behind it, a garden, trees, and another gate that took a very, very long path through trees near the street, then a winding path between old mausoleums, before eventually arriving at the Three Kings Cemetery a mile away. Buildings in the area generally had a political or religious tilt, with things like christian and catholic schools, a couple of city buildings like a courtroom, and one food shelter.

In the Hisil, those buildings looked weird, very weird. The schools had colorful bars for doors, like a prison for children. The court building looked like it was upside down. Spirits drifted in and out of them every now and then, but for the most part, this part of the city was void of movement. Still, she did not relax her Cloak of Night, and kept the three of them shrouded as they crept along the huge fence that surrounded the cathedral. Further and further back, behind the building, there was indeed a garden, and she winced at the sight of it. Huge plants full of vines, covered in thorns, like some sort of overgrown evil greenhouse from a comic book.

The gate was open. They could have jumped over, but it would have landed them directly onto the nasty plants. Besides, she didn't see any spirits, and Art and Matt didn't see any either, so they went through the gate.

They backyard of the church wasn't really the back. It was the backyard, but it connected to a door on the building's side, and the three of them had to navigate the path of deadly plants to get to it. She assumed they were deadly anyway, and from how the boys avoided the thorns, they assumed it as well.

The side-back door, a far less impressive thing than the grand double doorway at the top of the front stairs, was little more than a slab of wood with a couple metal bars attached to it. But when Art gave it a tug, it didn't move.

"Locked," he whispered.

Nodding, she looked up, and pointed.

The Hisil did not detract from the Gothic majesty of the building, only enhanced. That meant there were a lot of beautiful stained glass windows, with lots of ridges of stone under sharp facings. Above them were pillars, many with ornate gargoyles, and others with sharp protrusions. For anyone with good grip and body strength, it'd be an easy building to climb.

Up they went. For Natasha, this was beyond easy. She didn't even weigh a hundred pounds, short as she was, and Kindred strength made it easy for her to latch onto stones and metal, and jump to the next ledge no matter how high it was. Eight feet up? No problem. Twelve feet up? A minor problem, but not much once she put a little vitae into the leap.

The boys had a harder time. Art was very tall, muscular, and heavy. Matthew was taller, more muscular, and heavier. On more than one occasion, Art had to find a good spot to stop, reach down, and help Matthew; he was simply too big. But once they got past the purely vertical, most outward wall of the cathedral, it was easy climbing for all of them. Up slopped roofs, up tilted pillars that connected higher, up tall windows, and eventually up to one of the towers. Up, and into.

From there, it was a slow, quiet descent down into the cathedral. Such an enormous building, meant to be both a majestic display, but also a function as headquarters for Lucas. Lots of rooms, lots of hallways, and several floors.

The goal was simple. Red wraiths were hanging around the cathedral, so, figure out why they kept coming back to the cathedral. The Uratha were convinced the red wraiths were connected to the tears, or maybe even worked for Black Blood. The Uratha -- or anyone but Jacob -- didn't know what Black Blood actually did, what its goals were, what it was up to, or anything. Knowledge about it was priceless.

Whatever was happening inside the cathedral, it was likely dangerous, and it likely contained knowledge. The Uratha may have wanted knowledge so they could know how to prevent another Minerva situation, or force the same conclusion. Natasha wanted knowledge so she could help the Prince find out about whatever it was threatening her city, be it Black Blood, or the tears, or Maria, or all of them. She wanted to protect the city. They wanted to protect the Gauntlet and the balance. Hopefully those two goals coincided.

The descent between floors continued without incident. No movement in the darkness within the cathedral, down the winding stairs of the tower, and onto the balcony that overlooked the church pews. The center hall of the gathering was the nave. The left and right wings were the transepts, and the presentation stage was the chancel. The balcony circled the nave and transepts, not the chancel, leaving the enormous, glorious pipe organ free to impose its majesty up to the high ceiling.

Candles lined the walls beneath them. The actual cathedral in Dolareido didn't normally do the candle thing, using electric lighting modeled to look like old school lighting when it could. It was made by a vampire after all, and when a vampire had the option to use electricity, they used electricity. But in the Hisil, electricity didn't power the lights of the cathedral, fire did. The candles were large, and arranged to look like crosses in a sloped pattern. Each pew had a candle cross between it and the wall, and beyond them, behind the pulpit and beside the organ on each side, was a much larger arrangement of candles, again forming the cross.

Without any electric light, or sunlight, the candle lighting was very moody, and she did not like the mood it was going for.

But, despite her and the boys walking from end to end of the balcony, all they found below them, was pews and candles. The pulpit, a much larger version than the one in normal Dolareido, didn't have anything creepy going on, or anything that would suggest spirit summoning. The pipe organ, also emphasized and exaggerated by the Hisil's warping effect, actually looked like an instrument, not some deadly tool of musical summoning.

"What d-do you think?" she whispered.

Matthew and Arturo both sniffed the air deep, and looked down over the wooden railing.

"There's a loci down there," Art said. "But I don't see it."

"Then... we should go d-down there." Sword in hand, she moved toward the stairs that led down into the right transept.

Matt stopped her, hand on her shoulder. "Tash, why are you pushing so hard to dig up more evidence? We know the wraiths are working with Maria. That's enough for us to--"

"We d-don't know that! And... and... and Maria's not the person she used to be. We... we aren't being fair, by assuming she's doing something bad."

"You're defending her?" Art said. "You told us about how she treated you in the Invictus. And you told us what kind of person Lucas used to be, a man she loved, desperately. Come on, Natasha. You have to admit our suspicion is warranted. Let's go back and tell Avery what we learned. It's not like we're going to kick down Maria's door and kill her."

Natasha sighed and shook her head. They didn't know, they weren't there. That time when Maria had visited, and had actually talked to Natasha one on one, that'd been a very important night for her, and for the elder. Maria still owed Natasha for a lot of pain, but more than anything, for betraying her and handing her over to Damien and Lucas. But, elders took a long time to change, and Maria had tried. That was something, wasn't it?

"She deserves the benefit of a doubt." She shrugged herself free of Matthew's grip, and headed toward the stairs down. The sounds of their footsteps told her they were following, and she relaxed a little. She was being brave, but she still wanted backup when exploring a potentially dangerous area. Normally it'd be Jessy, but since she started working for the Prince, she had to get used to dealing with things on her own.

Except, of course, now she had a couple of werewolves willing to frontline for her, so, she'd be stupid to not take them up on it.

Once they were down among the pews, she took a step back and let Arturo and Matthew go first. They had the noses, and the extra senses to find something invisible like a loci. The two of them walked toward the organ, sniffed a few times, turned around, and walked toward the pulpit.

"It's a small one," Art said. "Not exactly sure what it's drawing. Seems like... a pretty vague influence. A command?" He shrugged. "It's very weak. Nearby spirits were just little motes of essence, barely aware, and they took off the moment we got near the building."

She approached the huge pulpit of beautiful, rich wood, and eyed it closely as she circled it. "Tony had something similar, I think. No wonder Lucas w-went to his old lair, to establish his new one on his return." It was a pulpit after all, a symbol of authority, if indirectly instead of directly. "Would this b-be enough? For Maria to communicate with spirits?"

Arturo nodded. "Yes, but, barely. There are lots of ways to communicate across the Gauntlet, rituals and stuff, and taking advantage of a loci makes them work a thousand times better. Except this loci is weak. I... I don't think it's what I'm smelling."

"It's not," Matt said. "I think what we're looking for is... beneath us?"

"Maria's lair?" Shivering, Natasha gestured to the organ, and a pathway cut perpendicular of the curving chancel back wall. Except, it wasn't there. She walked over to the wall where the giant cross of candles sat on the organ's right, avoided the candles, and pressed her hands against the smooth wall. "Um, the stairs are usually here."

Matthew came up beside her, and knocked on the wall with a knuckle. "Solid. The Hisil's probably recreated it somewhere else. This building have a history? Avery only knows a little."

"A long and t-terrible history," she said, her voice shifting into storyteller tonality without her meaning to. "Lucas came to D-Dolareido, established the Lancea et Sanctum, and often overstepped himself. The Grand Cathedral was b-built without the Prince's permission. He attacked Carthians, had some killed. He... killed the P-Prince's ghouls, when she began to push back against him."

The long and terrible history of Lucas, his growing relationship with the Invictus, his attacks on the Carthians, and his eventual war with the Prince, were stories told in whispers. Many of the Kindred in Dolareido didn't know the specifics. Daniel knew them all, and now that Natasha was a young dragon, he shared with her sensitive details. And she felt comfortable sharing them with Matt and Art, to a point.

"This was his headquarters," she continued. "He called himself Archbishop, and had b-bishops here, along with his congregation, and new recruits." Like his new childe, Damien. "I... I'm sure he did... powerful things here. Some bad. Some good. Some... horrible."

"He sounds like a colossal asshole," Art said. "Glad I never met him."

If only she could say the same thing. She'd never met Lucas at first, since she'd been sired around the time he'd been supposedly killed, over half a century ago. Her first meeting with him, fifty years later, had been a painful experience.

She nodded as she crouched by the wall, and looked for a secret switch. Nothing. "I--"

The cathedral began to shake, and the pews, the candles, and the ground. Several of the enormous candles fell over, some coming toward her, but she jumped away instantly, putting twenty feet between her and the deadly fire. Art had reached out for her to try and save her, but she'd been faster, earning a small smile from the man.