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“You mean the one just a mile off the coastline? The deserted one?” I ask.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” says Rita. “And you have to wonder why it’s been deserted for so long. If you ask me, it’s all the bad magical residue leftover from when Theodore died. My mum says you used to be able to see his mansion from the city, every night it was lit up by all sorts of colourful lights from the carnival rides on the grounds.”
“Carnival rides?” I ask, bemused.
“Apparently Theodore was crazy for all that fun fair stuff, he collected old rides, antiques like the big wheel and the chair-o-planes, and he had this big creepy carnival just inside the gates of his estate. He used to hav
e his servants turn them on every night, with music and all, you know that kind of old piano and accordion fair music.”
This provokes a memory in me, something recent, but I can’t place it so I brush it off as random meaningless déjà vu. “It’s doesn’t sound that creepy,” I interject.
Rita sighs. “It is when you consider the fact that the rides went on and on without anyone ever riding them. Like a ghost carnival. Moving but empty.”
“Okay, I suppose that is a little bit spooky,” I admit.
“You think?” says Rita, shaking her head. “So back to the story, Theodore was brutal in his dictatorship. My mum said he’d kill you for so much as a dirty look. The vampires resented him for the fact that he enforced massive taxes on them, you know how they’re always such enterprising business people. So in following, they had big income which got taxed by Theodore through the roof. He got rich off of their hard work. If they refused to pay he’d make sure their business went under with a spell.”
I nod in understanding, though the only vampire businessperson I know is Ethan, still, he is fairly successful.
Rita continues. “The warlocks resented him too, but more because he had such powerful magic. They were envious of his power and also despised the authority he held over them. The warlocks like to think they’re superior to everyone else, if you hadn’t noticed. The fact that Theodore, one man, could control all of them as well as the vampires and the dhamphirs, well that just really stuck in their craw. In the early sixties those who hated Theodore began to get organised, secret societies formed with the sole purpose of bringing him down.” Rita pauses and shrugs.
“You know how revolutionary people were back then. Anyway, everyone says that Theodore knew about this but didn’t care much, since he considered himself so far above them as to be untouchable. I guess that was his one big mistake. He didn’t bother to keep the societies in check and before he knew it they’d managed to construct an all-powerful blocking spell. You know the whole section of Tribane that makes up Little China?” Rita asks, pausing in her story. I nod.
“Well that used to be the stomping ground of the Blue Society, just one of the anti-Theodore groups. They had some young hot shot leader, Peter something or other, he was an exceptionally talented magic user, and so, under his leadership the Blue Society concocted a magical formula strong enough to prevent Theodore from using his magic on the whole area around their street. The blocks started out small, they tested it on a short stretch of land and then another. When it worked successfully, the Blue Society began selling the formula to other groups, and soon there were little or no places left for Theodore to control.”
“The vamps got in on it too, but their blocks weren’t as strong since they weren’t as skilled in magic as the warlocks. The dhamphirs have somewhat of a natural affinity for magic, like Gabriel, but the vampires are fairly clueless, at least they were back in the sixties. So Theodore lost all the control he had over the magic using population, as well as a serious amount over the vampires, though not completely since they couldn’t block him like the warlocks could. For a while Theodore disappeared off the radar, and supernatural society went on as normal.”
“Then, on the last day in December, when the New Year’s festival was being held down by the port, it used to be a tradition where all supernaturals put their differences aside for one night and welcomed in the New Year together. People were partying the night away and having a good time, but when the fireworks display was about to begin, Theodore appeared on a twenty-foot high podium holding a tank of petrol in one arm and a flame-thrower in the other, grinning down on the crowd like a maniac. Don’t quote me on this, but apparently he said something like. “You came for a fireworks display, good people of Tribane, well I’ll give you one then.” And he poured the petrol all over himself, before lighting it on fire and leaping from the podium. He crashed to the ground, pulverising himself while he burned.”
Shocked, I ask, “But then how could it be Theodore who organised the attack on Herrington, surely if that’s how he died then there was a body, some sort of proof that he was actually dead?”
“There were well over a thousand people all in one small space Tegan, people panicked when he jumped, a riot broke out, chaos ensued, and his body was never found,” says Rita, in a matter of fact voice.
“So what happened then?” I probe, eager to learn more.
“Well, there were a couple months of peace before power struggles began to break out between the vampires and the warlocks, the dhamphirs weren’t involved because their numbers are so much smaller. Eventually there was a stand-off and the decision was made to split the city down the middle. The vampires got one half and the warlocks got the other, while allowing the dhamphirs to share their territory in exchange for their allegiance. The rules were drawn up and there’s been the same segregation ever since.”
“It’s so strange that there’s this whole other history to this city that nobody even knows about.” I say, still comprehending Rita’s account. “This whole other set of politics. It’s really very bizarre.”
“You’ll get used it,” says Rita, picking up a taco and taking a big hungry bite. “Then again, this has always been my truth, so I don’t exactly know how you’re gonna get your head round it. But I’m sure you’ll adapt.”
“Yeah, I hope so,” I reply, before digging into my own lunch.
We eat in silence for a few minutes, allowing the bustling lunch time café noises to drift over us. Then a question forms in my head. “So, what’s your opinion on what happened to Herrington, do you think it really is Theodore come back from the dead?”
Rita pauses eating to consider it. “Could be,” she replies. “But then again, it could just as easily be some fanatic trying to get some attention. The only thing we can do is sit back and wait and see. If you ask me, there are certain people in this city who deserve Theodore as an enemy, a bit of a power shake up might not be such a bad thing.”
I take a sip of Coke. “I suppose.” I answer, while wondering what might happen to me if Theodore has somehow returned from the dead. The vampires will surely be doing everything possible to find a way to become more powerful. And what could be better for a blood sucker under threat than a variety of food which can provide him with strength ten times more potent than that he was born with?
Chapter Fifteen
Quitting While I’m Ahead
Rita walks with me back to the shop once we’ve finished lunch. She compliments me on my outfit, which is a first. I’m wearing black docs over black skinny jeans with a silky black vest top and my long combat green military jacket. Nothing special, but perhaps the simplicity works. My nerves are slightly on edge about going back to work, but I can’t place why. It’s not the shop itself that unsettles me, it’s Marcel. There’s something not quite right about his intentions and his air of cheery frivolity.
Indigo is empty when we step inside, both laughing about the crazy evangelical self-proclaimed prophet who’d been preaching about the end of the world a couple buildings down. I’m sure the joke will be on us if his ramblings turn out to be real prophecies, but come on, what’s the likelihood? Then I remember my own current situation and re-think my answer.
“What’s so funny, girls?” asks Marcel, marching out of the staff door, Gabriel behind him, and behind Gabriel, someone else. Finn Roe. Damn. I’d actually forgotten about him. This city is beginning to feel way too fucking small. Am I the only person who doesn’t know everyone?
