The Singularity Cycle 02 Song of the Death God Page 3

  And then fate chose to show him this thing.

  These dark thoughts ushered Carsten into the day. He put on his clothes and left his room, then stopped outside his door.

  No, he thought, this must not be left undone. I cannot live without answers to this paradox. To live without answers would be agony. I must know. Carsten went back into his room and opened the box where he hid his money. He walked out and locked the door. The locks would need to be changed soon.

  He headed to where Karl waited. He told him they would be going back to Number Five Menkenstrasse. Carsten held out his hand to shake, and, Karl felt the coin he palmed. He took it without missing a beat. He tipped his hat and opened the carriage door for his new employer.

  ***

  The street in front of Number Five Menkenstrasse was almost entirely deserted. The men were at work, the children at school, the wives inside cleaning. It seemed a lot larger without the string of enormous carriages. Today, there was only one carriage, and it was in front of Number Five.

  It looked like the occupants of Number Five were moving on.

  Karl steered their carriage behind it. It was being loaded with baggage. Carsten jumped out and ran up the steps to the open front door.

  Just as he was about to cross the threshold, a man blocked his path. It was the Top Hat Man from the night before. He didn’t say a word; he just looked down at him. Carsten stared into the man’s face. He wore large circular glasses of black. For the first time, Carsten realized he was an albino.

  They stood in this unnaturally close stance regarding one another.

  Finally Carsten said, “I need to speak with Madame Beauchamp.”

  The man’s voice was repellent and forbidding. “No.”

  Carsten took a step back from him.

  On hearing the word no, Karl stalked forward. Carsten wasn’t sure how things like this worked, but he was very grateful he was there.

  “My employer wishes to speak with a resident here, and you will stand aside, Fél fajta Szemét!”

  Whatever this word was, whatever this language was, the albino in the top hat was now alarmed. Carsten knew that men of Karl’s class hated Eastern Europeans with a passion.

  Karl took a threatening step forward. “You will stand aside, or the police will be down here much faster than you can get away on that cart, do you understand me?”

  A voice came from behind the man. Dark, smoky, and deeply accented, without being anything short of feminine. A hand appeared on the Top Hat Man’s shoulder and the young lady from the night before appeared in the doorway next to him. She whispered soothing words into his ear, and he pulled back into the shadows.

  She was young, perhaps only a few years older than Carsten, wearing another black dress and a headscarf of the sort worn by the hated Gypsies.

  She looked into his eyes. “Your man is cruel.”

  Carsten was taken aback by what had just passed between the two men, but he recovered quickly. “Madame Beauchamp, we mean no offense. Please accept my heartfelt apologies for the words of my driver. I must speak with you on a matter of the utmost importance!”

  She looked at him impassively. She was more beautiful than he could have imagined.

  “I’ll pay the standard fee. I don’t actually need a séance. I just want to know some things.”

  Her hand went out, palm upward.

  He reached into his pocket and felt for the familiar size and shape of the two five-Mark coins. He put them in her hand.

  “I know what is in your pocket, and I know of the plain in your dream, I know of the sky in your dream, now give me the rest of it.”

  Carsten handed her the rest of the coins in his pocket, almost a hundred Marks.

  She turned and walked into the darkened house, and he followed.

  They went to the back of the house, to the room where she held audience the night before. It was empty, the table and chairs gone. She sat on the floor and indicated for him to sit in front of her, very close, their knees touching.

  He sat, and she took off the headscarf and her long black hair fell over her shoulders. She looked at him languidly with her beautiful brown eyes. This was a girl well versed in seducing men. He was tempted to fall into her trap, but he stopped himself at the last second. He would have killed to take this succubus right on the floor, but he needed to know. Rare is the passion that can burn in a man to turn aside the charms of a creature such as this.

  Surprise came over her as she understood that Carsten was a different sort altogether. Then a look of puzzlement came into her eyes. “I never forget a face, but I feel we have met, no?”

  “You caught me spying last night.”

  “I was still inside when I opened my eyes; I felt we were being watched from behind the door… it was you?”

  “I’m sorry, I was here to… see what my siblings were up to…”

  “You ran, you ran for your life, I felt myself following behind you for some reason, something about you that my mind inside sought to know. But here you are. This is not chance.”

  “Tell me what I was seeing.”

  “I was in the place where the living and the dead are one. You dreamed of it last night, no?”

  “I was alone on a vast plain. The ground was rock. The sky was full of black horrible clouds. They boiled, then they… they formed arms like the octopus would have…”

  “I don’t understand; you were alone on the plain?”

  “Yes, why?”

  “All the people in the world are supposed to be on that plain.”

  Carsten didn’t understand the significance. Something about his dream last night concerned her. That made no sense to him, but that wasn’t why he was here.

  “What was coming out of you? Your skin, your mouth?”

  “There is no word for it in your language, but it happens when one such as myself goes into the place between.”

  “You can speak to the dead? How?”

  “I was born into it. My mother and her mother and her mother before her.”

  He looked at her blankly.

  “There are others who learn how to do this. It is said that if one’s ancestors passed this knowledge down to their children, one day the children would be able to do it on their own.”

  “How does a person learn?”

  “There are those of my people, Romani, who spend their lives learning, and it is passed from teacher to student.”

  “Witchcraft?”

  “Yes, but it is older than that, older than the Christian Jesus, or the Greek Aphrodite.”

  “But you do not use this?”

  “Yes, I use some of it, I can go deeper into the space between the spaces, and I can ask the dead questions because of it. Without it, I would only be able to listen, not to ask.”

  “How can I learn?”

  “I would never tell this, and I fear that this could be a very bad thing, but I feel that your dream is… an omen, I do not know of what though. There is a book. You will have to get it from someone you can trust in Hungary or Romania. Few copies have been made, many forgeries. You must understand… people have been burned for owning a copy of this book. It is called Pe corpul nemuritor, or in your language, The Immortal Body.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “What is your name?”

  “My name is Illona Zsofia, but people only know me as Angellika, if you were to ask of me.”

  “Do you have to leave? I’m quite sure I could make an arrangement with your landlord or another…”

  “I’ve stayed here too long already. We are not welcome here. You saw how your man spoke to Ferenc…”

  She continued. “We have a reputation that my people earned over a very long time. My people are trouble and your people know it. The main reason that we must leave is, if certain Romani people find out that we are here, that we have money, they will come for it, and they will come for me. I will not work in a traveling show again.”

  “Where will you go?”

  She laughed
. “There are places in America that never snow, places with names like Mississippi. Have you ever heard of such a word? Mississippi!”

  Carsten smiled. “And what will you do there?”

  “They have great ships that travel up and down a giant river where great crocodiles live… I will tell fortunes to travelers on those great ships.”

  Carsten stared in awe of her beauty for a moment, then continued, “This book you talk of, do you know from whom I could buy it?”

  “Only in Prague, not in Germany.”

  “Could I get a bookseller to order it?”

  “Probably not, and if you did, it would be fake.”

  She continued, “No one of my people who travel the roads in this country would carry such a thing. You must remember, people were burned for even suspicion of these things. Not in Germany. You could go to Prague…”

  He brightened. “Prague, where in Prague?”

  She laughed. “Are you serious? You’re really going to go to Prague for this? Why?”

  “I must understand. I must know. It is simply who I am.”

  “You are a rich man. You must know that this will not help you. It will take a lifetime to learn. It is of no use to one such as yourself.”

  “I seek to understand the world. If the world includes such things as I saw last night, I must know why.”

  She squinted at him. “I do not understand, but maybe… I do not have to.”

  “Where do I find it?”

  “In the Roma quarter, there is an amusement arcade; there you will find a woman, an ancient woman named Piroska. She will tell your fortune. After she is sure of the color of your coin, tell her you know me. Do not give her all of your money like you did with me. Tell her that you know that fortune telling is nonsense, you just wanted her to know that you can pay. Tell her you want to see A tánc a halott lejárónyílás.”

  Carsten had pulled a pen from his jacket and was furiously scribbling down these notes. “What does that mean?”

  “It means the Dance of the Dead Friend.”

  “And what does that mean?”

  “I think that it is what you are truly seeking. If you do this, you must see this alone. None of your companions should see this thing and I will not discuss it further, but you must see it.”

  She paused. “Then decide if this is what you really want. If you do, ask her for the book. It will be very expensive.”

  Carsten asked, “Will it be more than I gave you today?”

  She smiled, “It will be ten times that.”

  Carsten’s eyes widened. Ten times what he had given Angellika.

  She stood and beckoned him to stand. Apparently, their time was done. They were walking to the front door. Before they got there, he grabbed her arm and turned her towards him.

  “How will I find you?”

  “You will never find me.”

  He could not say when it began, but sometime in those few seconds, they began kissing like only the young and desperately in love can. And then he was back on the street again, with a concerned looking Karl asking him if he was all right.

  In the back of the carriage, he made some very difficult decisions for a man of his age and class. The amount of money was more than he had. His entire allowance would still not be enough.

  His siblings received more than he, especially Wilhelm, as he was the first son. Uli received quite a bit more, and would have the money and more in hiding. He also knew asking Greta or Karin without a good explanation would be an exercise in futility and raise suspicions. It would be a demeaning experience and probably futile, but he would have to ask Uli and pay him back over the next few months. He just had to figure out how to ask.

  CHAPTER SIX

  Carsten arrived home in the early afternoon to find Greta and Uli in the library attempting to read the books of their mother’s collection on the occult.

  As he walked into the room, they looked at each other and laughed.

  He asked, “What’s so funny?”

  Uli let out a high pitched and effeminate squeal and held his hand over his mouth. Greta asked, “Where’s your little friend Ava?”

  There was something sadistic about her tone that Carsten didn’t like at all.

  He said nothing, giving them a suspicious look and starting back towards his room.

  Uli said, “So you’re going out on an errand in the carriage, leaving us all to sit at home? Very odd, Carsten, very odd indeed.”

  Carsten said, “I went out to look for a present for a friend.”

  Greta said. “A friend!” And they both laughed.

  This was the vicious way they acted all the time, but it didn’t sit right, especially today. He wanted to get out of the room gracefully so he changed the subject. “Do you know what is being prepared for dinner?”

  Greta said, “Well, you should ask Ava’s mother, the house cook. I’ll bet she’d love to tell you because she’s so very appreciative of your friendship with sweet little Ava!”

  Uli interjected, “Yes, that Ava is turning into quite the beautiful young thing, isn’t she?”

  Greta shot him a clandestinely hateful look.

  She countered with, “Perhaps you’ll take Ava to a formal ball soon?”

  This was a low blow, given that Carsten hadn’t countered with any venom of his own. He never did. He just took their barbs and condescension. Since they granted him more privacy over the last two years, this was the price he tacitly agreed to.

  “Uli, may I come speak with you this evening? I need some… advice from my brother.”

  Greta laughed. “Have you discovered some hair growing somewhere that it wasn’t before?”

  Carsten ignored her. “Uli, please?”

  Uli tried to take on a more serious tone. “I’m intrigued, little brother. What naughtiness have you found that you need the advice of Uli Ernst?”

  Greta dived right back in, “Does it, perhaps, wear a dress and go by the name of Ava?” and burst into a peal of laughter.

  Carsten tried his best to be a humble youngster in awe of his rakish older brother.

  “It’s not exactly that, but it is about girls.”

  Uli chuckled, while Greta continued braying.

  Uli said, “But of course, little brother, I’ll be in my quarters, say… seven o’clock? Greta will be getting picked up by some other young ladies for a dinner party that I’d rather avoid…”

  At this, Greta renewed her insipid laughter.

  Uli continued, “So I’ll be here until around nine o’clock; that should give you time to tell me all about it.”

  Carsten did his best to look eager and appreciative. “Thank you, Uli. I’ll see you there!”

  Carsten went back to his room and found Ava pretending to clean. She didn’t look right. Her hair was disheveled as if it had been in serious disarray earlier, but she’d done her best to smooth it out. Her eyes were puffy and red from crying. He locked the door and sat on the bed. She was obviously hiding in here from Greta and Uli.

  Carsten asked quietly, “Are you all right?”

  Ava said nothing, just nodded rapidly.

  “Did they touch you?”

  She looked at the floor.

  Carsten asked, even more quietly, “Did they force you to do something with them?”

  She shook her head miserably

  “Did they try to?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What did they do?”

  She said, “Carsten, I cannot lose my job here, I beg you to just let this pass.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that, I swear. Tell me what they did.”

  She looked at the floor. “I was cleaning. I heard them behind me, but I ignored them as I am supposed to do. I was bent over. I didn’t know that they were right behind me… I felt her hand on my bottom. It startled me and I turned around and there was Greta. Uli pulled my arms behind me, and I was too scared to speak. Greta put her hands on my breasts and felt them roughly, then pulled up my skirt and p
ut her fingers down there. I was scared, I screamed.”

  She went on, “I don’t think that they expected that, and they let me go. I ran down here and locked the door. After a few minutes, I heard them at the door, I heard them laughing, but they didn’t come in. Greta said cruel things to me through the door.”

  “What did she say?”

  “That you were off getting buggered by another boy, and I was stupid to love you, that I would never be anything but a maid.”

  “You’re more to me than a maid, Ava. You are my friend.”

  Ava sobbed quietly. “Carsten, we have to just let this go. They will fire my mother and I. If we are fired from a home, we will never find work again.”

  “You don’t need to worry about that, I promise you. And what happened today will never happen again. You belong to me.”

  For the next hour, Carsten held Ava in bed. She cried momentarily, but stopped. Crying annoyed him, and she didn’t want to spoil this moment of pure affection. They lay there together, Ava in rapture with Carsten and Carsten thinking about Angellika’s kiss, how she put her tongue in his mouth, how her large full breasts felt pressed against him.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Carsten knocked on his brother’s door at precisely seven o’clock. He knew this kind of punctuality would annoy Uli. After a moment, he heard Uli call out for him to come in.

  Uli stood in front of his easel, wearing what he thought was an appropriately arty ensemble. It was an expensive white shirt of loose drapey fabric, splattered with paint. Naturally, he was painting a portrait of himself. There was a tray at hand with a bottle of French wine and one of Cognac. Uli leaned in and touched up a detail of the face. Another canvas lay nearby covered with some hideous modernist rubbish.

  Carsten asked, “Are you going to move to Paris with Wilhelm?”

  “Well, little brother, I believe that I come from a family of artists, don’t you think? And Paris is the center of the world of art!”

  “When do you think you’ll be going?”

  “I’ll be going sometime in the next few weeks to visit Wilhelm, see the sights, drink the town dry, meet all the right ladies… We’ll see.”