Immortal Memory (Iris' Atlantis 1)

Timothy: Mysteries

Stunned, I sat on a cushion by the table. Stump came to occupy another of the pillows. There were five in total.

I looked at the maple in the inner yard through huge windows. Sometimes my gaze drifted toward the spot where the finger print must be, but I couldn't quite make out the little dots from this angle.

I could feel the tune of the Castle, Stump's aura too, and the tabletop with my fingers. The only thing amiss in the picture was my memory and the deaths recorded there. I wondered: if I were to rise and go out, could I walk home and live life as if nothing was wrong? The idea felt surreal. But it also felt like a concrete possibility.

Stump let me check again the puncture hole in his arm.

I closed my eyes.

Opened them once more to find the room exactly as I had left it.

"I am happy he isn't here," I told Stump simply. "Where-ever we are, I am rather here between us."

"Between the vampires," he finished for me.

I nodded.

"Between us vampires..." a thought occurred to me. "No. Wait. I was human in between. I wasn't a vampire when... When... I actually wonder what happened." I only remembered choking on red dust and could almost smell the wooden taste of the powder.

Stump patted me on a thigh.

We fell silent. I didn't feel a beat inside my chest, maybe for a full minute.

"Why are you here?" I asked.

"Waiting for you, really."

I looked at his old, twinkling eyes.

"I shall be your guide, Timothy. I'll come with you. Someone should. As I understand it, you have been alone more than is healthy for anyone, vampire or human. I feel... Nah. It's just the right thing to do. I have been here a long time. Or a very short one. I am not sure, really.

"First, I thought more would come through. But none came. Except for the bearded fellow. I gather you have been busy linking then?"

I nodded slowly. Never mind my human period. Before that I had favored linking to taking lives. Many young vampires did.

"Ever since... I have been waiting for you."

Nothing he said made sense, if I tried to understand all the sentences separately and with any vestige of logical thinking. But the implication to my intuition was clear. Stump had stayed. And my one other victim had moved on. Whatever that meant.

My gaze traveled the room. Mo didn't have much in her room, except for windows on two walls.

I couldn't help it. As I realized what was behind the other window–at least was in my memories–, I rose and walked to that wall. Yes, the rails were there. They were meant for cargo trains, but the symbolism didn't escape me. Moving on. There were train rails beyond the glass.

I sighed.

And pressed a hand on the window's crystal.

"Do you mind waiting for a while more?" I asked Stump. "I don't think I am ready for this trip yet."

"I don't," Stump replied. "But she might."

The answer startled me.

My gaze found again the couch, the bag. Someone's blood. But what had Stump said?