Vampire a Go-Go

TWENTY-TWO

Kelley went up to his room in the White Tower and flopped face-first onto the bed. The cool sheets soothed him. He let his eyes close. Yes, if sweet sleep would come to him, he could forget all about dark tunnels and secret societies and the deep burning throb in his backside. Sleep, Edward Kelley. Sleep and dream of plump white serving wenches.

“Oh, there you are, Edward,” came Dee’s voice from the doorway. “Come help me with something. There’s a good fellow.”

Kelley’s eyes popped open. Bastard.

He pushed himself up from the bed, groaned. He followed Dr. Dee downstairs and out of the tower, to where a wagon waited in the lane. It was hitched to a tired-looking gray horse with drooping ears. Dee stood next to a stack of chests and trunks and other packages.

“Get on the other end of this, will you, Edward?” Dee bent, took one end of a long chest.

Kelley helped him slide it into the back of the wagon. He helped load the trunks and other items until the tiny wagon was overflowing. The effort made Kelley break out in a cold, slick sweat. Any good feeling he’d had from the brandy had faded. All he wanted to do was go back into the tower and flop into bed again.

“Thank you.” Dee was panting too. “I had a young lad from the stables helping me, but the little scamp has run off.”

“Listen, I’m not feeling all that well,” Kelley said. “So if we’re finished loading all of your worldly possessions, I’d like to get back to bed and-” Kelley blinked at the wagon as if seeing it for the first time. “Where are you going?”

“Didn’t I tell you? I’m leaving. Back to England.”

“You sure as hell did not tell me.”

Dee wrung his hands, had trouble looking Kelley in the face. “Well, yes. I’ve… been recalled by the Queen… uh… yes. Some sort of trouble at court that… uh… requires my expertise.”

“Oh, pig shit, Dee!” Kelley suddenly remembered Edgar saying he’d foreseen Dee’s departure. “What’s happened?”

Dee’s eyes darted nervously up and down the quiet lane. “Happened? Whatever are you talking about?”

“Damn you, don’t act stupid. Is it Rudolph? Has he done something insane?”

“Fool,” hissed Dee. He stepped right up next to Kelley and whispered, “Do you want to put us on the chopping block? Keep your voice down.”

“Talk to me, Dee.”

“Okay,” whispered Dee. “Okay, fine. Listen. There are strange things happening. Trust me, you don’t want to be involved. If I were you, I’d pack and leave tonight.”

“What strange things? Tell me.”

Dee sighed, looked suddenly so weary. “Edward, I can’t begin to explain. The complexities of-”

“Does Rudolph want to live forever?”

Dee froze, then slowly lifted his chin and looked Kelley square in the eye. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do.”

Dee cursed, took Kelley by the elbow, and leaned in to whisper even more quietly into Kelley’s ear. “The astrologers returned from their trip to the north. There were tales, villagers with wild stories about strange lights and the sky splitting open and the Heavens crumbling to earth. They found a village with a smoking crater in the center, every villager dead, their skin melted from their bodies.”

Dee crossed himself, and Kelley resisted the urge to do the same.

“They brought something back in a large, iron box,” Dee said. “They won’t let anyone near it. I don’t want to go near it. One of the astrologers told me that the three men who handled the object and loaded it into the iron box have taken violently ill. They are not expected to last through the night. All three are delusional and feverish.”

Dear God. This time Kelley did cross himself.

Dee climbed onto the wagon and took the reins. “I’m getting the hell out of here. I’d do the same if I were you, Edward. Farewell.” Dee flicked the reins, and the nag clopped down the lane.

Kelley raised a wan hand and waved, but Dee didn’t look back. Kelley stood watching until the wagon turned a corner, the clip-clops fading away.

He stood long seconds in the empty lane. It had become eerily quiet-no sounds of workmen from the courtyard, no chatter from castle servants. He looked up. Even the wind had died. The flags and banners atop the castle walls hung limp. It was as if the entire world held its breath, waiting to see what doom would fall on top of Kelley’s head.

To hell with this.

Kelley darted for the tower, took the stairs two at a time until he reached his living quarters. He grabbed his cloth bag, tossed in his clothes, a few books. He had a small bag of coins and hoped it would be enough to get him as far as a seaport. He should have lived more frugally these last months. He’d been too free with drink and women. No matter. If he could get to a port, he could work his passage if money ran short.

Kelley took his clothes from the cloth bag, and put them in the footlocker. He put the books back on the shelf over the bed. He was about to stash the cloth bag when he froze. He had just packed all that. What was he doing?

He stuffed the clothes back into the bag, took the books down from the shelf again. He was so rattled and nervous, that he didn’t know what he was doing. He simply hadn’t been paying attention. Really, the thought of all of one’s skin melting off, well, that would distract anyone.

He put the books back on the shelf, looked at them, blinked. What the hell? He grabbed the books again, put the books in his bag. Pay attention to what you’re doing, idiot. He packed his clothes again. He threw the bag over his shoulder, threw the door open, and headed down the stairs.

Kelley paused at Dee’s room, then entered to see if the alchemist had left anything behind. Some of those potion ingredients could fetch pretty prices, especially certain herbs that might be out of season. He searched Dee’s chambers but found nothing worth taking.

He went back upstairs to his room and dumped his clothes out on the bed.

He blinked at the clothes on the bed. What. The. Fuck.

This was ridiculous. Why couldn’t he get his possessions packed and get the hell out of this place? He was suddenly, acutely aware of the pulsing dull pain in his ass. What had Edgar told him? The brand had been prepared with spells, magic to make sure Kelley stayed loyal to the Society.

No. It was all too far-fetched. He could walk away any time he wanted.

Kelley left the luggage, jogged down the stairs, and ran out of the tower. He made himself slow to a fast walk through the castle courtyard, kept up the pace toward the gate. He passed through the gate and left the castle behind. Soon he’d reach the Charles Bridge. Along the river he could catch a boat, or maybe he’d simply keep walking south. There was no particular hurry as long as he kept going away from the castle, away from Prague.

This would work. All Kelley needed to do was put one foot in front of the other. Don’t look back. Just keep walking. So long, assholes, you won’t have Edward Kelley to kick around anymore.

He passed back underneath the castle gates, passed through the courtyard. He stopped before entering the White Tower. How had he come back here? He could not remember turning around, returning to the castle.

He tried to leave again, walking fast, determined. He blinked, when he found himself back in his chambers in the White Tower.

“Son of a bitch!”

This time he ran, pumping his legs, his breath coming shallow. He ran and ran until a stitch burned in his side. He stopped, bent over, breathing heavily. He rubbed his side. His clothing was soaked with sweat. Kelley breathed deep, then stood straight.

He stood at the foot of the White Tower.

Kelley sank to his knees. “Oh, no no no no.”

No matter what happened, he could not escape. It was as if his mind got distracted and his feet found their way back to Prague Castle and the White Tower.

Kelley ran in every direction. He walked, jogged, skipped. No matter what, somehow he ended up back at the White Tower.

The obvious fact that Kelley was now ruled by the Society’s magic weighed on him with grim finality. He wasn’t going anywhere. He was doomed to stay in Prague Castle and do the Society’s bidding. He sighed, flopped into the chair at his small desk in his chamber. Edgar had made it clear that Kelley was to be the Society’s eyes and ears inside. Perhaps that was the key. If Kelley fulfilled his obligation, maybe the spell would be broken. Maybe then he could leave.

That meant he’d have to find out what was in the iron box. Edward Kelley would have to confront the astrologers.