Diamond Eyes - 10. Chapter 10

The Imperium Department of Health of Vital Records was housed in a large building a block or so away from the Imperium Headquarters. From the moment he’d been told of his true heritage, Vanus had been propelled by a determination to adapt to a world that had expanded beyond his means to understand it. He could feel it all begin to weigh down on him, and with it came a fatigue that was more emotional than physical. Now that he was here, he realized just how little he understood about how the world worked, and how much that frightened him.

“Having second thoughts?” Bazzelthorpe asked in that mocking tone of his.

“Not exactly,” Vanus lied. “I just need a minute.”

Bazzelthorpe grunted dismissively. Van took a deep breath. There’s nothing to it. You just go in and ask the clerk if you can see Charlie’s record of death. “Let’s go,” he said, more to himself than his most annoying companion.

Vanus was surprised to see the clerk behind the desk was a diamond eyes. After so long of being an outcast, it still surprised him to see how common they were in this sector of the city. She did not look up when he stepped up to the desk, but continued to write something down on a piece of parchment. Vanus cleared his throat impatiently.

"I know you're there," she said in a bored tone. "I will be with you in a moment." She picked up a tiny bell off the corner of her desk and gave it a shake with a flick of her wrists. A moment later an imp appeared, grunting and chuffing as if in great discomfort. "Take this back to the archives," the clerk instructed. She regarded Vanus. "What can I do for you?"

"My name is Vanus Kaufman. I wish to see Charlie Kaufman’s record of death.”

The clerk’s other eyebrow went up. “Kaufman? Is that supposed to be a joke?”

“If only,” Bazzelthorpe snorted behind Van’s back.

The orphan pretended not to hear him. “Believe me it was a shock for me when I found out. I don’t have the time to go into details. I’d like to see his records, please.”

The clerk rolled her eyes. “I’ll see what I can do. It might take me a minute, though. With the mauler plague running rampant through the city, records of death have been rushing in faster than we can file them.”

As it turned out Vanus and Bazzelthorpe didn’t have to wait long. The clerk returned, looking harried. "I am afraid I was not able to retrieve the files you wanted. It seems they have been confiscated by the Imperium for investigative purposes."

"Investigative purposes?" Vanus took an unconscious step back from the desk. His mind raced. If his death was an open-and-closed suicide then why would the Imperium confiscate his files for an investigation? "Thank you."

Feeling dizzy, he walked past Bazzelthorpe without a word. The sense of defeat that had been mounting up all day took its toll. It was time to go home.

"That's it?" Bazzelthorpe called after him. "You're just going to give up!"

"I'm not giving up. I'm going home and going to bed so I can figure out what my next step is," the orphan muttered sullenly.

                     …

The daemon followed him like a spiteful shadow, always just within view. Vanus wouldn't have minded it so much if said shadow didn't always remind him of who he was. You can take the orphan out of the streets, but you can't take the streets out of the orphan. An all too familiar loneliness crashed over Vanus. He'd done his best to keep it at bay, but like everything else it had been building up behind his back.

Alysious' voice echoed in his head: You cannot lock your emotions away behind a steel door. You can only bury them. But eventually, like a weed, they'll poke up from the grass…if you don't tend to them.

"I'll tend to them whenever I damn well, please!" Vanus hissed under his breath before he realized he'd spoken aloud.

"Hmmm?" Bazzelthorpe said. "Did you say something? You have a tendency to mumble under your breath."

"Nothing that would interest you, daemon," the orphan said through gritted teeth. His fingers clenched around his staff. His steps quickened. They were on the dirt road back to the house, and the day's shadows had grown long. In a few hours time it would be night.

He was eager to get back to Kaufman Manor. Jill had been on her own for hours, in a big house; once already her life had been in jeopardy and they'd only moved out of the orphanage yesterday. Once more Alysious' voice whispered in his ear as if she was actually standing there, next to him: Jill on the other hand, is much more malleable. In a lot of ways she is like clay. Her soul is too gentle for a city that is so full of ugliness. There have been many times I admit, if it were not for

you she would never survive in this place, and would certainly perish on the streets if alone…

Someone screamed.

His head snapped up. It was Jill. He was so lost in thought he hadn't realized how far they'd walked; Kaufman Manor was already in view, the gate open.

"What in the blazes is that stupid girl up to now!" Bazzelthorpe grumbled.

Vanus didn't hear him. He was already sprinting towards the manor, his heart swelling in his chest. No matter how fast he ran, it wasn't fast enough. He'd left her alone in the house while Henry had hidden inside its walls, and now she was hurt. He barely remembered crashing into the house, past Mr. Fritz and a woman he did not recognize.

Jill held a kitchen stool before her like a weapon. She brandished it wildly at a strange creature that reminded Vanus of a slightly bigger, much more ugly variation of the creatures he’d glimpsed in the Imperium. Definitely a lesser daemon. Jill, who’s past experience with daemons had not been a pleasant one, was only reacting out of fear for her own safety. It was safe to say the gremlin was trying to do the same, but the most it was capable of doing was waving its short arms and snarling at Jill who had the advantage. Mr. Fritz and the woman were shouting at Jill, but the girl was in a battle of life or death.

Vanus did the only thing he could think of in the moment and hugged her from the sides. “Jill, stop it!” He pulled the stool from her hands and set it on the ground. “It’s just an imp. Remember, Mr. Fritz said they were coming here to help clean the house.”

She went limp in his hands. If Vanus had not been standing there, he truly believed she would have collapsed to the floor. He guided her into the kitchen. All the commotion was briefly forgotten. He only felt a strange sense of relief and an intense focus to do what made sense in the moment: keep Jill safe. He pushed her onto one of the stools at the bar. He zipped through the kitchen, grabbing the first things that came to mind: two glasses, a bottle of wine, a block of butter, cheese, and bread. Mr. Fritz and the woman started to come in through the dining room. “Leave or stay, I don’t care, but we need ten damn minutes to ourselves,” Vanus said in a voice that sounded far steadier than he felt.

“We’ll wait,” Mr. Fritz said. He took the woman by the hands. “Come, Charlotte! Have you seen the greenhouse yet?”

Vanus filled the two goblets with wine. His hands shook. The bottle slipped from his fingers. Wine ran across the table, spilling onto the floor. He stumbled back into the stool, reaching for something, his heart pounding in his throat.

“It’s okay,” said Jill, glancing at the staff in his hand. She picked the bottle up. “It’s just wine. We can clean it up later.”

“Yes,” he said, fighting to stay calm. He looked at the staff. The curved end had begun to burn with a burning white heat. “I didn’t mean to do that.”

“I think it’s just reacting to your emotions,” Jill said thoughtfully. “Things like that always used to happen around you, y’know? When you got angry, or upset. The air would go funny, and my hair would stand on end, and my skin would always tickle. And your eyes glow. That’s the only time I can tell what you’re feeling sometimes.”

Vanus nodded in confirmation. “This is all…just a lot to take in.”

Jill giggled, bringing the bottle to her lips. She took a long swig from it.

He grabbed it from her before she could take the last of it. “You fiend, leave some for me. Look at the mess you’ve made!”

“The little imps will clean it up, won’t they?”

“Yes, even though it’s your mess, you drunk!”

“I am not drunk,” she said in feigned offense. “I came from the same filthy whiskey-soaked streets you did, Van! I know how to hold my liquor.”

He held up the wine bottle. Wine sloshed about in the bottom of the bottle. “You can take the orphan out of the streets, but you can’t take the streets out of the orphan.”

They laughed. For the next few moments, he was able to trick himself into believing it was just another spirit-filled night at the tavern. Those were the only moments when it didn’t feel like having a knife in the side to be an orphan, he thought fleetingly.

They finished the last of the wine and set the bottle on the counter. Vanus gripped the edge of the table. His skin glowed. Jill kissed his cheek affectionately. “Let’s see what fun Mr. Fritz has planned for us now!”

…

They went out into the parlor. Despite the enormity of the room the center of the floor seemed quite crowded. There was only Mr. Fritz, the woman named Charlotte, and the master imp. Van didn’t know how he knew the creature was called the master imp; or why this creature was in charge of the others. But the knowledge was there. It made the back of his head itch. Claim all that is yours…

Just how much am I meant to claim? I just want the house and the money…

“Sorry for the misunderstanding,” he said. He smiled stiffly. His arms and legs felt foreign to him, like steel pistons. “We’ve just moved into the district and are having a hell of a time of it.”

Charlotte nodded, a bit breathless herself. “Mr. Fritz has told me a bit about your case. Not the specifics of course, seeing as he is sworn to confidentiality, but the bare bones. I can see how coming here from the Mieville District would be quite the transition. I hear conditions are quite bad in those parts.”

“Which is why we thank the Seraphim for blessing us with this miracle,” Jill said. Then she trailed off.

“The Seraphim?” Charlotte said, offended.

An uncomfortable silence filled the room. Bazzelthorpe chuckled amusedly from his vantage point at the foot of the stairs.

All the blood in Jill rushed up to her face. She pursed her lips. “My apologies. I meant no offense.”

Charlotte's smile remained stiff, but it was well intended. "Don't be too hard on ye self m' girl. We all have a slip of the tongue from time to time. Just be careful not to have those if around the higher folk in social gatherings."

The higher folk rang in Van's mind, sending icy chills down his spine. He tried to think of something polite to say back, but his tongue was stitched to the roof of his mouth. Jill was the first to break the awkward silence. "I will keep that in mind."

The final part of the exchange went on pleasantly enough if not a bit awkwardly. "I have some good news for you, Mr. Kaufman. I was able to get an appointment with the High Priestess for you first thing tomorrow. There you will be able to address any concerns you have. I am sure she can explain things to you far better than I. A carriage will be picking you up. I know the driver quite well, a young man your age by the name of Julian. I mentioned you are in the need of a chauffeur, someone who can transport you back and forth between the city whenever you wish. It just so happens he is in need of employment…things are hard all over after all."

"We also brought supplies to hold you over until you can finish settling in," Charlotte said. "It isn't much, just some bread, cheese, fruit, and some clothes for you both to try on." She looked the orphans up and down disapprovingly. "Now that you are residents of the Grand District, it's important you both look the part. I had the clothes set on your beds."

Jill swooped into thank them much to Van's relief. He wanted nothing more than to slink back to his room for a moment alone. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus. As Charlotte had promised, Vanus found several articles of clothing laid out on his bed. He sunk down on the edge of the bed and let out a heavy sigh. He examined the clothes - shirts, pants, a bow to tie his hair back with - without interest. Even used they were nicer than anything he'd ever worn before.

Someone knocked softly on his door.

"Who is it?" he asked reluctantly.

"It's just me." It was Jill. "Do you have a moment…or do you want to be left alone?"

Vanus tapped his foot anxiously on the floor. "Come in."

Jill came into the room in her "new" dress. She wore an aqua silk dress with ruffles down the skirt. She walked stiffly, taking deep breaths.

"What's the matter?" Vanus scooted over so she could sit down. "You look like you're about to faint."

"I feel like I'm about to faint. How does anyone breathe in these damned corsets? Charlotte was nice enough to help me with it, and the earrings…"

He looked her over. She'd bound her hair up and wore jeweled earrings made of sterling silver. Her cheeks were colored with rouge, her lips painted red. Jill no longer looked like the bony orphan girl Vanus had always known. "What?" she said.

"You look…"

"Ridiculous?"

"I was going to say grown-up."

She smiled. "Did Vanus Kaufman just give me a compliment?"

He nudged her playfully with his shoulder. "Don't let it go to your head…But no, I don't think you look ridiculous at all."

"I suppose we are grown-ups now, aren't we?" She laughed shakily. "I certainly don't feel like a grown up."

Neither do I. “And to think we believed life would get easier once we left the orphanage,” he said with a cynical smile. “I used to envy the adults, thinking they had everything figured out.” He thought of his last conversation with Sister Alysious in the music room. “Now I’m starting to think they don’t, and maybe we never will either. Perhaps we’ll always be children in our own way.”

Jill looked up sharply then. “You are in a particularly bad mood. Did things not go well in the city?”

Like that, all the emotion he’d been choking down to deal with later, came back up like bile in his throat. He tossed the shirt he’d been trying aside in a moment of frustration.“It’s all of it, but it’s also that damned creature, Bazzelthorpe! What a ridiculous name for a daemon!”

“Ah.” Jill handed him another shirt to try on. “I was getting ready to ask about that. Have you two managed to figure things out?” She gently turned him around, so she could help Vanus button up his shirt.

The orphan resisted the urge to throw his hands up in the air. "He resents me and mocks me every step of the way; and he always calls me 'orphan!' And yet he follows me around all the time like a grouchy old dog. I don't know what to do with him."

"I know it doesn't come natural to you, but maybe you could try putting yourself in his boots," Jill said with that unfaltering patience of hers. "Not that I know what it's like to be a daemon…But imagine how he must be feeling, and I don't just mean from being trapped in that box all this time. He's lost the closest thing to a family he's probably ever known. This shirt actually fits you pretty well. Let's turn around and take a look."

Slowly she turned him around. He frowned at the stranger looking back at him, dressed in a white button up, black dress trousers, and a matching black jacket. If anyone looks ridiculous, it's me, he thought.

His mind flashed back to the portrait of Vanessa and her twin brother. "No wonder he hates me," Vanus said. "I look just like him."

Jill frowned. They stood side by side, studying one another in the glass. "Who?"

"Henry."

The confusion cleared from her eyes. She hugged him, her touch saying what her face and words could not. "But you're not. It might take time, but one day Bazzelthorpe will see that. He will see you the same as I do. Besides, I do think you two should try to get along. If Henry really means to do you harm, then you are going to need all the help you can get."

Vanus bit his lip, struggling to contain his newly mounting frustration. "You're far better with people than I am. Why don't you give it a go?"

Now it was Jill's turn to scoff. "If he resents you then he wants to turn me into a human purse." She twisted her face into the best imitation of the daemon's scowl she could manage. " 'Stupid orphan girl.' I daresay, you have your work cut out for you, Vanus. Honestly though, search for common ground. He's been around for thousands and thousands of years. Surely you have something in common besides cynicism. If I were you though, I'd figure it out before Henry makes another appearance."

I'd rather have my insides ripped out by maulers, Vanus thought. But in the end, he knew she was right.