Episode 20

"Wait here."

"Yeah. You don't have to tell me. Break your neck, if you're so eager."

Jonathan jumped, landing on the nearest platform. Half expecting it to sink under his feet, as had happened several times before. But no such thing happened.

Of course it didn't. Because the room had stopped moving.

Everything was where it should be, after he had pulled the first lever. So it made sense. But hey, the fear was understandable.

"But, while we're at it, answer me one thing," Elizabeth said. "What exactly do you expect to find here? Probably nothing that concerns us. Nothing that has anything directly to do with the Count. Or how to defeat him. No, not likely. I'm sure there isn't. You don't even hear the bell anymore, do you?"

Jonathan was surprised. He didn't turn around to talk to her. He was calculating the next jump. One false step, and the void.

"How do you know?"

"Because you just told me. And because you're not shouting every word."

"Oh. Yeah, right."

"So?"

Another step. Another landing, more or less good.

"I... I need to know. That's all."

Jonathan could almost feel Elizabeth shaking her head, exasperated with it all. He couldn't blame her for being in a hurry to get out of here and to the closest thing they had to a home, to get some rest for once.

"I wish someone less crazy had found the island. But I guess you'd have to be crazy to start looking for it in the first place."

Yes. She had hit the nail on the head.

He propped a boot on a wall floating above the nothingness to his left. Gathering momentum, he took a big leap. Out of necessity. There was no other platform in front of him.

He was aiming for a bar hanging from the ceiling.

High, but it should be within his reach.

Jonathan's fingers slid across the metal and he thought that was it. That he had screwed up and the next instant he would find himself in free fall. However, he managed to hold on.

First with one hand, then the other.

The next lever wasn't too far away. After he pulled it... he supposed he would have to prepare for the room to reconfigure itself again. Regardless of whether it was finally revealed to him what this place hid or there was another lever to pull. Another test of sorts.

Yes, this was all like a test. Maybe.

Jonathan swung himself around the bar. Round and round and round. If he kept this up, he'd eventually get dizzy, undead or not. But he had to do this carefully. He had to swing as far as possible, jump at the right moment.

Or else it would be completely impossible for him to cover the necessary distance to the next platform, suspended above the void, like the wall he had used as a support. The magic that sustained this (for it could only be magic) ... What if it ran out? Or if it had a time limit without knowing it, or something like that?

Cut the crap.

Jumped.

He jumped at the moment that seemed best to him. At the apex of his rotation.

The damn platform was far away, so he could only scratch the edges with his fingernails. But the point is that he made it. Now he just had to push himself all the way up.

His handhold was rather precarious, but he should be able to.

"You can do it... I guess."

For a former pirate captain, she wasn't good at cheering people up.

He reached the top.

But not the lever. Still had some distance to go.

"Elizabeth. You are a selfish, unscrupulous person...."

"Thank you, thank you."

"Which is exactly how a pirate should be. But you got everything you could want and more, a city, riches, an easy life. So why did you stick your nose in the Count's business? If you're so selfish, why are you in this situation?"

It sounded strange that he hadn't asked her until now, but it was true. He hadn't cared.

"Do you care?" It was almost as if he had read her mind.

"I... Well. I'm interested."

"Well, I'm not. This conversation is over."

And it was. Jonathan wasn't going to get it out of her, but between her sudden hostility and the forced tone she had told him more than enough. Maybe it was just what he wanted to think, but she could have had it all, if only she had been willing to look the other way.

Maybe even this legendary pirate was a more decent person than he was.

He would have liked not to learn that.

He went on his way.

It took him a long time, being so careful. But it was better to do it right than to do it fast. Jonathan pulled the second lever, taking a deep breath first, preparing himself for whatever was going to happen.

The room shook again. And moved.

But not the platform he was standing on. Everything else was spinning around this platform.

After a few minutes, what formed were...

Stairs.

Stairs that pierced the darkness.

Stairs that pointed down into the void.

He almost laughed. If he had to go down anyway, then he could have gone down the quickest route. But hey. At least his path was clear, now.

He walked to the first step, then glanced at Elizabeth.

"Will you join me?"

She thought about it. But not too much.

"Fuck it. Anyway, all bets are off. Or whatever they say."

——

Just as the excitement was giving way to boredom, again, the Count felt a knife pierce through. He had been stabbed in the back. Literally and figuratively.

The Count tried to turn around to see his attacker.

From the sounds of surprise from those around him on the deck, he knew it was one of his own. But he wanted to look him in the face anyway. It wouldn't change anything, though. And he wouldn't even recognize him.

He was simply curious.

The knife was pulled out before he had time to turn around.

And he found himself falling.

Over the railing, into the sea. His body pierced the surface and sank. His blood would be spreading like a carpet by now.

In any other situation, the Count would close his eyes. Embracing death. The stillness and the silence.

But, for the first time in so long he couldn't even remember, the situation was different. The bell was still ringing. Calling him somewhere. And he intended to answer its call. He didn't care what it was about. All he cared about was that it was something new. Finally, something new. And there was no one who could stop him from finding it, whatever it was; he was trying, moreover, not to put too much hope in whatever it was. But in reality he was getting his hopes up.

The Count surfaced and climbed up the ship to the deck.

They had already reduced the attacker, of course. One alone against several dozen was not entirely impossible, but in a situation like this, without being able to use the environment to his advantage, it was.

And now they were going to execute him. To slit his throat where he was, lying on the ground.

Like a pig, some would say. He supposed.

"Sir..."

The Count raised a hand.

"None of that. He doesn't have to die. Didn't you hear me? Let him go."

Still surprised, they obeyed his orders, they had no other choice. His attacker remained on the ground. Staring at him with hatred burning in his eyes. How he envied him. If only he could feel just ten percent of that anger for someone or something. Anything.

He at least was human.

I am a superior being, superior, superior.

"Why did you attack me?" The Count asked, getting straight to the point.

"I thought as much. I was sure you wouldn't even recognize me." He spat on the ground. "Bastard. You've hurt so many people. Tortured and killed... that you don't even remember."

One of his men stepped forward to kick him in the mouth.

"What did I just tell you?"

"Huh, sir. I thought he should... That he should show you more respect. Sir."

"Shut up, now. " That guy backed off. "As we were saying... That's right. I don't remember. So refresh my memory."

"What do you care?"

"That's also true. I don't give a damn."

"My... my sister. My sister, you bastard. I've been waiting so long, so long for this chance. But I haven't even managed to kill you properly."

"Oh no, I was dead down there. A few seconds, but I was."

He took a couple of steps forward.

Crouching down in front of him, bringing himself within his reach. As if tempting him. But his attacker didn't move a muscle.

"I imagine you must have thought that throwing me out to the sea would work. For weeks or months, waiting for the perfect opportunity. That it would work because if I hit the bottom of the sea, no matter how much this curse regenerates me, it can't stop my lungs from filling with air. I guess you imagined me dying over and over again at the bottom of the sea. Unable to make it to the surface, right?"

The attacker didn't look away. But he didn't say anything either.

"Right?"

"Yes," he admitted reluctantly.

"Well, I have to tell you, you're not smart enough to be the first one to think of that. Nor brave enough to be the first to try it. Come on, get up. You'll be alright. Come on."

The attacker got up on shaky legs. Still holding the knife, bathed in blood, with which he had stabbed him. It hadn't been pulled out of his hands in time, before he arrived, that is.

"You can go back to your post. Whatever it is. And try again, as many times as you want. This is no trick or some stunt; I say this for all present. You won't be punished for what you've done here today. And you are free to try, again and again. What the hell, if you succeed, I'll give you my whole fucking fortune, understand? Because I'm in a good mood today. Well, come on. Get out of here. Come on, there's a lot of work to do."

The attacker turned and began to walk away, retreating humiliated, filled with more rage than ever. And surely his subconscious was already plotting new plans, even though he had clung to the hope that throwing him into the sea would work well enough for a long time.

Because the attacker was human. And he could recover.

And feel new things. Regrets, joys, hatreds. He could do everything The Count couldn't. Yes... he really envied him. The bastard.

"That goes for all of you. It doesn't do me any good if you all just stare at me like idiots."

Today was going to be a great day. It was.

A great day.

——

They went down the stairs, found nothing but more steps and more impenetrable darkness everywhere, for a long time. But at last they came to a door, which opened before them as if it had been waiting for them.

Waiting for him, that is.

Elizabeth had nothing to do with this.... But he forgot about the nonsense he had been distracting himself with along the way as he took in the sight of the room on the other side of the door. The first thing that struck him was its enormity.

It looked like a place designed for giants, not human beings.

Though, of course, that was nonsense.

A giant wouldn't have fit through the entrance in the first place. In any case, indeed, everything was gigantic. The pillars. And the statues. They were of men, but not of any particular figure. Or at least not of any story he knew.

Men armed with spears and shields.

Kneeling men, bearing the weight of the world on their shoulders. Literally.

Pretty decorations or something else?

They approached the center of the room. As soon as they set foot on it, there was a blue light that made him back away quickly like a frightened animal. And good thing he did, because then it emerged from the floor....

A pulpit?

No, though he supposed it could be used as such. There was a hand-shaped hole above it. Key and lock, he suddenly thought.

Placing his hand in the hole.

As soon as he made contact, his mind sank into darkness.

——

He opened his eyes...

In a completely different place. A beach, but not the beach on the island where this whole mess had started. On the horizon, the sun was sinking.

Already?

No. That wasn't the right question.

He had a machete in his hand and his body was different, too. Vaguely, as if in a dream

(is this a dream?)

He realized he was looking through someone else's eyes.