Chapter 5: The Mission

Noyon, France

CALEB

"Could you please tell me again why am seated on a big pile of dirt instead of a well cushioned airplane seat?" I said, grasping a small rock from the debris under my thighs. Maybe the gray wreckage used to be one of the many walls of this forsaken castle. I turned the rock over in my hands and threw it through the gap of the heavily cracked wall next to me. I sighed. I still didn't understand why we were losing time in the middle of nowhere. And in France nonetheless. We should have taken the plane from England and be in our way to the States.

The guy at that fancy church had spoken. We had the information. The Keeper was in New Mexico-so, what were we doing here?

"I'm starting to think you spend most of your time in the moon, Caleb," said an Italian-accented voice.

I scoffed. "Don't start with that mooner shit."

"Yeah...stop if you don't want your ass kicked, Massimo." Nicolai said. He was leaning against a wall right across from me, his blond-white hair spiking out in every direction, his body so tall it made him look like a wire. He straightened and turned to look at me, the same annoyed expression playing on his face. "Moyset wants to speak with Gavran. But you know that already, so stop being a prick." He leaned back against the wall once again.

I swallowed back a smile. Nick was good at hiding his true emotions. Better than anybody. The guy could be a freaking actor. But I knew him like the back of my hand, and behind that annoyed mask he was displaying, a maddening anticipation was swirling inside of him. The way his finger circled around his thumb told me so. He always did that to calm down.

"If I were you, Nick, I would stay as far away as possible from that wall you seem to love so much." I told him, eyeing the loose limestone bricks behind him.

He shrugged and pulled his foot to the wall, pressing it against the unsteady surface, as if defying the whole thing to fall to pieces.

I smiled. "Kind of cliché being here at night, don't you think?"

He looked up. "A castle in ruins in the middle of nowhere?" He studied the ragged frames of the windows. "Kind of perfect, I would say. Nobody would dare to come around here."

Unlike us, creatures of the night. We barely came out during the daylight hours. Darkness was part of our lives. But even I had to admit this place was rather eerie. It wouldn't surprise me if a ghost from World War One touched my shoulder. "At least you can see the stars." I said, looking through the wide, open space of the ravaged roof.

I loved to see the star-pricked sky, not only because I was part of that dark shimmering mantle, but because of pure joy and nostalgia.

"He's always leading our way," Ben's thick voice said, echoing my thoughts. He was looking at the Silver Star flashing blue beams of light above us. Nick followed his gaze and stared, looking with pride not at the star itself but at him. Balthazar.

I pressed my hand on the back of my neck, touching the symbol of my second birth, of my guide, of my father. More than ever, I could feel the sixteen-pointed star burning with pride and honor, pulsing through my veins a deep sense of belonging for the first time in my life.

I'd never had a real family during my nineteen human years. A cold foster home had been the only twisted version of one, where pain and humiliation came hand by hand each dreary day. It'd taken me fifteen years to leave that oppressive cage behind me and build a new life in the streets-a life that with time had brought me the chance to finally start a promising path.

Now, I had more than I'd ever wished. I had a family and a true purpose in life: the freedom of my race. I was going to accomplish our father's will by bringing to our race the freedom it deserved. Soon, very soon...

"He's watching us," Gavran suddenly stated, stepping over the threshold of a murky, windowless room. "If he's here with us right now, it's because we're meant to be here. Therefore," he turned to look at me, "complaining about our location is questioning our father itself."

The darkness wasn't a veil to my enhanced eyes. I could find a needle in the most pitch-black night. So I could see that Gavran's pupils had gotten bigger when he'd fixed those dark pools on me. He was angry, and he had a right to be. Our father's will had been questioned. And I'd been the one who'd done it.

"He's coming," Massimo prompted, jerking up his head.

The atmosphere was suddenly loaded with sharp anxiety. We'd been waiting a long time for this moment, and the curiosity was almost unbearable by now. Talking to Moyset in person, and not by our usual communication system, meant something really important was about to be said.

"Ah...Greetings my fellow brothers." A long-haired man stepped into the shadows of our awaiting circle a few seconds later, his stretched arms in salute. "Long time no see," Moyset added, tilting his head. He was sporting the same dark cloak our Lord used, but instead of having the blue embroidered symbol on the middle of the cloak, Moyset's was black, like the everlasting marks on our skins.

"Moyset," Gavran said, giving him a short nod. All of us bowed in respect. "How was your journey?"

"Short and uncomfortable," he grimaced, walking around the grounds, picking debris with the sole of his black boots. "You know my low esteem for trains. I still don't trust man's new methods of transportation-even if they look well-built." He stopped and looked through the broken frame of a window. "A horse remains the most practical way of travel. It's a shame they're not used any longer."

"Yes, but these new ways make human's life much easier-in a way you can't even imagine," Gavran added.

Moyset turned and looked at him. "You're right, Gavran. I can't imagine how feeding the air with smoke and strange substances make man's life easier. Soon they'll all suffocate with their own noxious nonsense."

Gavran grinned. "Do you care?"

"No," Moyset answered without delay. "I'm just speaking for old generations that can't share the word. They would be ashamed of living in this era. But if humans come to an end-" His lips crept up into a cold smile "-I can't stop thinking on the non-ending possibilities for all of us."

Gavran and Moyset laughed, and I couldn't stop noticing how evil the sound that came out from their mouths was.

"Then let's start with our little chatter," Gavran told him. "What is so important that you've honored us with your presence?"

Moyset took a few steps forward and erased the smile from his face. "The Lord's counselor has spoken. He says the Keeper is different from the others."

"His counselor?" Gavran frowned, a hint of sarcasm to his voice. "Do you believe that li-"

"You've made very clear your opinion on the matter. I do not need your speech one more time."

"How can you accept all this bullshit?" Gavran raised up his tone an octave.

Everyone knew what his problem with the Lord's counselor was. It was the same problem everyone had. But in the end, we couldn't do anything about it. Not even Moyset, who deep down inside couldn't stomach him either.

"End of discussion." Moyset ordered, and at those three words, which had the power of a king, Gavran looked away in displeasure. "We've abided your attitude for a long time now, Gavran, and we've only done so because you are special to us, and you know it," he said, stepping closer, crushing more pebbles with the thick soles of his boots. "That's why we've confided in you. Your youth comes as a helpful connection to the nouveau world, as well as your skills. And you have taken us closer to our goal than anyone else. We trust you, but we would like this trust to be mutual."

Everyone stared at Gavran, waiting for his response. After a few long seconds of silence, it came with humbleness, something that took us aback completely. "You have it. Tell me what you've come to say."

"Thank you brother," Moyset said with a short nod. "Our father will be proud."

Gavran nodded.

Moyset sighed and started pacing around our circle once more. "The Keeper is different," he continued. "The counselor can feel her energy. She has an extra perception, a third eye, and thus she cannot be overlooked, Gavran, no matter what her outer shell is." He paused and raised his gloved finger. "But our biggest problem may be some other presence dwelling there." He turned to look at Gavran.

"A Benandanti?" Gavran said at once. He wasn't the only one who was surprised. The worried stares in everyone faces charged the air with heavy dread. A Benandanti meant trouble, big trouble. "Well, that's what I call VIP information."

Moyset nodded. "We're going to send you some reinforcements to New Mexico, just in case things don't go as premeditated."

"I don't think that will be necessary. My pack will do. We're young."

"It will be necessary, Gavran. Never underestimate a Benandanti."

"Okay, okay," Gavran raised his hands in surrender. "Whatever you say. A couple of extra hands won't be that-" He trailed off. He was looking down at the small plastic bag Moyset was holding out. He couldn't help the smile stretching across his lips.

Deadly nightshade.

It was a very powerful plant. Its berries were lethal if eaten in big amounts. My brothers, and especially Gavran, used them to weaken women and have fun with them. The toxic berries made them lose their balance and blur their vision and, most of all, dry their throats so they wouldn't scream. The bag that Moyset was giving Gavran was full of those berries. And I could see Gavran's eyes already spinning with ideas.

"A small incentive." Moyset told him, smiling. "Allow yourself some fun."

Gavran pulled up the bag to his eyes and stared, hypnotized. "Oh, I will."