Alex Van Helsing The Triumph of Death - By Jason Henderson Page 0,72

her hand on Alex’s shoulder, and he looked up at her, and if she was about to say something, it was interrupted when Alex gasped.

An enormous red claw was swinging as a nuckelavee rolled up behind her, striking Astrid and then Alex across the head. He saw the earth he had disturbed rising up to meet him.

When he awoke, the Brough of Birsay had been transformed into a world of ice and death.

CHAPTER 26

“Wake up, hon, or you’ll miss it.”

Woozily Alex felt his eyelids fluttering, and there was something caked in them. He realized he was seeing through mud and blood that had flowed down from his head wound. He blinked again, forcing his eyes open as though they were encrusted with sleep.

He felt numb, and cold, and didn’t wait to feel anymore because Elle was standing in front of him, the black marks around her eyes, a brown hood pushed back to reveal her spiky blond hair.

Ask the questions.

What’s going on?

I’m in a room, white, ice, ice all around. Elle is in front of me and behind her I see sky. I see a wide window looking down on the island, and there’s a platform with vampires on it. We’re in an observation area, like a theater box seat. We seem to be in Antarctica—no. It’s the Brough of Birsay, and it’s covered in ice.

Where’s Astrid? There, next to me—waking up. She’s against the wall with a skull vampire watching her, and Elle is pacing, and Astrid’s hands are…my own hands are numb, encased in ice.

What do you have?

“Hey!” Elle yelled, snapping her fingers in front of his face. “It’s time. You get to watch.”

“Watch what?” Alex asked wearily.

“Out there,” Elle said, pacing on the ice floor, pointing out the viewing window. “The Triumph? It’s about to begin.”

Alex was watching past her, and even now he could see the platform where an even larger version of the satellite dishes in Bruegel’s painting had been erected, with stairs leading up to it, and a pulpit. There were vampires milling about.

Everything ice. The island covered in it, this platform and box seat structure. “Icemaker did all this?”

“Yes, he did,” Elle said. “Right here where the ley lines cross. I imagine the Queen would have done just fine on her own, but you gotta admit, Lord Byron lends a certain style to the proceedings.”

Now Alex saw him, out the window and down below, about two hundred yards away—Icemaker himself, restored to his glory, his feeble leg replaced by an icy, thick hoof. He was waiting, like the rest of them.

“So you were right.” Alex started moving his fingers, or trying to, but they were stuck. He didn’t have much time or they would be frozen and lost, and he tried desperately to play it cool while he cursed at his blood, praying he could move it into his fingers. He was in a sweater, his jacket on the floor in the corner next to his go package and Astrid’s bag. “She is a Queen, huh?”

“The greatest we’re ever gonna have,” Elle said, “a master of magic and of vampirism.”

“Haven’t we done this before?” Alex asked. “I don’t get why you don’t just kill me.”

“Alex,” Astrid said, trying to pull her own hands free, “don’t tempt them.”

“Oh, I’d love to,” Elle said. “You know that. But Lord Byron has always known that the way to deal with the Polidorium is to make them suffer. You get to watch as your world plunges into darkness.” She leaned in close. “So it’s not up to me. But death does come next. And you won’t be first.”

“Make them suffer, the way Byron made Polidori suffer by stealing away his foster daughter?” Alex asked. He was moving his fingers, but not enough. The ice was curdled through the strands of his sweater cuffs and wouldn’t allow him to move. Keep working on it.

Elle shrugged. “If you say so. I don’t get caught up in ancient history.”

He kept moving his fingers in the ice, feeling his blood begin to flow. “What are you gonna do when we’re gone? I thought I’m basically your whole purpose for being right now. Aren’t I your assignment?”

“Get over yourself, Al; I’ve had hundreds of assignments.”

“And yet you’ll never be a clan lord. Must be awful, at your age.”

“Clan lord? What, you’ve been studying up? You don’t know how we’re organized. It takes longer than—”

“Well, I mean, shouldn’t you want advancement? What was your first assignment? Watching someone like me, I’ll bet. You