21 – Masquerade

“I think we just got spirited away,” Rick said, van pulled over to the side of an old dirt road. He leaned out the window, glaring back at the odd pair of trees they just passed through.

Erika craned back to stare as well. A pair of trees, entirely unassuming, flanked the road. She could see the difference between their side of the trees and the far side. They had just been driving through the outskirts of Chicago with everything stained red-orange from the dying light of the day. All that orange light was still there, on the other side of those trees.

Here, the sky was dark, nearly pitch black aside from the overly large moon hanging in the distance.

“I didn’t sense anything,” Sofia said from the seat next to Erika, staring back as well.

“There was a film there, just for a split second,” Erika said, scrunching up her face in concentration. “But I… I don’t remember feeling a film any of the other times we’ve traveled into parallel spaces. When opening one, yes, but not after the thing was already open and we were walking through. Then again, maybe I just didn’t notice…”

“How many times have you walked through portals while you weren’t under some kind of life-threatening duress?” Sofia asked.

“Once or twice,” Erika answered absently. “But that’s still Chicago in the distance, isn’t it?” she asked, squinting off in the direction the main road traveled. “Are we in a parallel space then? Or… not?”

“You’re asking us like we’d know,” Anna said, eyes straight ahead. “I’m more concerned about what’s inside that mansion.”

A wide, sprawling building hugged the top of a gentle hill. Most of it was just a dark silhouette against the dark sky, but enough orange lights danced in its windows to give it some depth. The lights illuminated the front face enough that Erika was surprised she hadn’t noticed until Anna pointed it out. The dirt road led straight to it, further drawing the eye, and one conical turret jutting off the roof barely clipped into the full moon that hung heavy as its background.

“So… uh…” Sofia glanced around. “We having second thoughts? Just me?”

“Not too late to catch up to The Fixer, Leslie, and Delilah,” Rick said, hands on the steering wheel but keeping the car parked.

Erika shook her head. She had dithered back and forth enough. They all had. “We have a plan…” She trailed off, shaking her head rather than finish her thought. “I see SUVs up near the building. The Eclipse, probably.”

“Damn.” Rick finally put the van back in gear. “They beat us here? And here I thought we left too early.”

The van wasn’t well-suited for dirt roads, rocking and rumbling up the path like a marble skipping up a corrugated ramp. Luckily, the manor wasn’t that far off. Up close, and with the van’s headlights helping out, Erika got a better look at the actual building. A heavy archway shielded the entrance, gargoyles peered over the rooftop, and the windows…

“The windows have bars,” Anna pointed out before Erika could.

“Erika can get through them, right?” Sofia asked, almost pleading in her tone.

Erika pressed her lips together, eyeing the heavy iron bars that stood a few inches away from the glass of the windows. They were bolted into the red bricks directly, just above and below the glass. “They don’t look like chains,” she said slowly, “but I’d probably Kool-Aid Man through the walls instead, just in case.”

“What if there are chains in the walls?”

“Then we go hunt down whatever aspect we freed and break it.”

Rick pulled to a stop directly behind the pair of SUVs, frowning at them. “Definitely The Eclipse. The license plate gives it away.”

Just to the left of the numbers, a government-style seal occupied a quarter of the plate. Erika didn’t know what department it was supposed to be—the glare from the headlights made it hard to read any text—only that the center featured a bright yellow crescent, like the sun being eclipsed by the moon. “A bit on the nose, aren’t they?”

“They had the same little logo on the SUVs that went after the Carrion █████,” Rick said. “You weren’t paying attention?”

“There were a lot of things going on that didn’t involve license plates,” Erika grumbled, hopping from the van. She hesitated, looking back at the rack of ghost hunting equipment, before deciding that they probably wouldn’t need any EMF readers or Ouija boards. If they did, she could always grab it later.

Anna and Sofia both grabbed flashlights, though they pocketed them rather than use them at the moment. Rick slung his cardboard tube over his shoulder with Erika watching it from behind for just a moment. She planned on sticking close to him, just in case.

“What do you think?” Erika asked as she stepped ahead of the group, moving into the alcove before the oversized wooden door. “Do we knock? Or just let ourselves in?”

The door swung open of its own accord just as Erika raised her fist. She clicked her tongue in annoyance at being robbed of a bombastic entry. Maybe it was better to not be so overtly antagonistic, but after their little encounter with The Monk, it wasn’t like they had much room to act like curious and ignorant attendees of this party.

The Monk knew what he was getting into by sending her an invitation.

A man stood just to the side of the door, head bowed slightly. He wore a dress. Erika stopped and looked it over for just a moment. The dress, ankle-length with sleeves that stopped just above his elbows, was a rich blue color. Gold weave adorned the hems at the sleeves, feet, and the low v-neck. Some kind of animal skin toga hung from one shoulder, draped around his opposite hip, and trailed off around the knees.

It felt strange, and extremely out of place with the large western-style mansion. Erika was fairly certain it wasn’t actually a dress, but some formal attire from a culture that Erika didn’t recognize.

The mask he wore, covering just above the eyebrows down to the end of his nose, was more familiar. It had been a while since her last run-in with one of these guys. If she didn’t know any better, Erika would have thought they were avoiding her.

On second thought, Erika figured they were avoiding her.

“Ilū nāṣirūka ana damqāti liṣṣurūka,” he said, dipping his head further in greeting. “The Hunters. You are expected.”

“What was that you said?” Erika asked, on guard already. “The first bit. A spell?”

“A simple greeting,” he said in a neutral tone, not rising to her accusation. “I would translate it akin to ‘May the guardian gods keep you in favor.’”

Erika narrowed her eyes, suspicious of the terminology. She somewhat doubted that she was in the favor of any gods at the moment, especially the sibling aspects of the ones she broke. “I see,” she said slowly. “What language?”

“It is the native tongue of the Largos, though you would more likely recognize traces today as stemming from ancient Akkadian.”

Not knowing much besides bad English and worse Spanish, Erika glanced to Rick and Anna. Neither looked particularly confident, though they did look like they recognized at least one of the languages he mentioned.

“You’re one of the supposed immortal people, right?” Rick asked, unable to stop himself. “Are you from Akkad? Or… Akkadia? I don’t exactly know my Mesopotamian history… but I know it’s old.”

“A complicated question. Perhaps you will find some answers tonight, though not if you remain on the front porch all evening.” He stepped away from the door, still within reach to close it, but more accommodating of their entry. “If you would like to join the guests already in the lounge, please follow me.”

“The Eclipse?” Erika asked, confirming as she stepped inside.

She moved cautiously, feeling for more films of magic in the air before fully committing to any step. The others were perfectly willing to let her continue leading, even if she moved somewhat awkwardly over the manor’s threshold.

She didn’t feel anything.

“Indeed,” the greeter said, remaining by the door until all four were inside before he closed it. “The lounge is just—”

Erika jumped back, grabbing the door and flinging it open again. It didn’t take any use of her power to open, nor did anything on the other side look any different. The SUVs and Rick’s van were still just outside, parked in a roundabout in front of the entryway.

Although his eyes were hidden behind his mask, Erika could see the greeter’s impatience in the way he cocked his head.

“Just checking,” Erika said, slamming the door shut. The others didn’t look too surprised, either at her or at the outside still being right where they left it. Although he pressed his lips into a thin line, the greeter didn’t comment either, simply tucking a single hand behind his back as he carried on, leading them to a large door on one side of the hall.

The hall itself was large, grandiose, with several hanging chandeliers keeping it well lit. She was fairly certain that her old house could have fit entirely within the hall’s walls with room to spare. Keeping with the western theme of the manor, the empty space between doors had stone busts, portraits of various stern-looking figures, potted plants, and small benches that looked more for decoration than for actually sitting on. A staircase hugged the left wall at the far end of the hall, headed upwards to a balcony that circled around just below the chandeliers.

The Mummy really went all-out when they were trying to impress.

At the same time, looking at the greeter’s attire, considering The Monk, and even thinking about Safe Harbor’s general style… she wasn’t sure this manor really fit with their aesthetic. It felt too modern, if grandiose. The lights in the chandelier were electric, the lock on the front door was a normal keyway instead of made for one of those old heavy iron keys, and even the air felt like it had run through an air conditioner.

It was an entirely unfounded supposition, but Erika wondered if they found this place and were simply using it, rather than it being something they owned and built.

A door under the stairway caught Erika’s eye as another toga-wearing masked cultist popped out of it. It opened to another set of stairs, this time leading downward. What really caught Erika’s eye was the way the new cultist stopped abruptly, like he had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. The greeter didn’t falter in his steps, but the stairway cultist quickly shut the door, disappearing from view.

“Come along,” their guide said, making Erika’s fingers itch to go break down the door. If he had just come out of it normally, she wouldn’t have had her interest piqued.

Which made her suspicious that they were trying to lure her into a trap—into more of a trap.

Deciding against it for now, Erika kept up with the greeter as he pushed open the first door on the left. He remained outside, bowing at the neck, and swept his arm across his chest in an inward gesture.

Compared to the hallway, the lounge was somewhat subdued. Cream-colored walls and a rich wooden floor gave the room a more homely vibe, though the set of couches upholstered in emerald green was a bit too fancy. An upright piano set against one wall played music of its own accord, faint and distant so as to not be obtrusive, but still there to help hide awkward silences. Refreshments of alcohol and small hors d’oeuvres looked untouched on a table in the center of the room.

The Eclipse milled about. Erika recognized three of the four people present. The Hanged Man stood by the window, peering out while plucking an imaginary piece of lint from the lapel of his overly expensive suit.

Erika jolted, just a little, as she spotted a figure on the other side of the glass, peering in right in front of The Hanged Man.

Sofia, noticing Erika’s start, leaned closer. “Something wrong?”

“Just my ghost,” Erika said with a small shake of her head. In the blink of an eye, her ghost vanished. The Hanged Man didn’t even seem to notice. “She was looking in from the outside. Gone now.”

“She can’t get in?”

“No idea,” Erika said, turning to take in more of the room. “She isn’t exactly the talkative sort.”

Sofia hummed a little, but shrugged it off as the sound of turning pages made them glance to a couch.

The Hermit, all nine tails out in a fluffy halo behind her back, leaned up against a wall with a book in hand—the book looked like it belonged in the small shelf near one of the couches. A man in a full-face gas mask stood a short distance behind The Hanged Man. He could have been The Hierophant, but Erika doubted it the more she looked at him. He was dressed in full tactical gear, like one of the SWAT team guys.

Erika hesitated, frowning at the final member of the group. The Tower, a monstrous entity from the dark depths of some Russian lake, stood near the refreshment table, tendrils curling in agitation. The ring of yellow eyes around his dome of a head watched the whole room, but a few portions homed in on Erika and The Hunters, making her involuntarily stutter her steps.

The Tower raised a hand in greeting so casually that it broke the imposing visage his appearance gave. “Yo,” he said, equally casually. Erika heard a small sigh of relief behind her, but didn’t turn to figure out whether it was Anna or Sofia; The Tower was still talking. “That uh… The Fixer isn’t here, right?”

“No, not tonight,” Erika said, a bit unsure. The Tower almost sounded worried.

The way his scaled shoulders lost some tension made her wonder if The Fixer hadn’t told the whole story after their little excursion together. “Excellent. I mean… good. Or, not that there’s anything wrong—”

The lounge door clicked shut behind her, and Erika held up a finger. “Hold that thought,” she said, slipping past The Hunters, stopping at the door. She counted down from five, then grabbed the handle and threw the door open.

The greeter, about five steps away, paused and turned back. “Was there something you needed?”

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Erika scanned the foyer for anything odd, but came back with nothing. The under-stair door was still shut too. “Just checking,” she said, shutting the door again.

“Nothing?” Anna asked, arms crossed with an eyebrow raised.

“Maybe nothing will happen until all the guests have arrived,” Rick said, nodding like he figured it all out.

“We’ll keep checking periodically,” Erika said. She slammed her fist into her palm. “First sign something’s up and we start smashing things.”

“Except chains,” Sofia reminded her from the side, as if Erika could forget that detail.

“Right,” Erika said with an appreciative nod anyway. Looking back to The Eclipse, she stepped into the room. “For now, we mingle?”

“Mingle,” Rick laughed. “Not much of a—”

“Rick.” The muffled voice of gas mask man made Rick pause, squinting as the tactical guy stepped closer. “Good to see you again.”

Rick, squinting as if that would help him peer through the ruby lenses in the mask, widened his eyes. “Barry?”

“You remember me. I was worried.”

“I’d have recognized you a whole lot faster without the…” Rick trailed off, waving a finger around his face.

“A precaution. Unfortunately,” he said, slumping. “Going to leave red marks on my face for the next week.”

“You’re the one who was making bets,” Anna said, arms crossed. She made a show of glancing around the room. “Shame The Emperor isn’t here. Could have matched them up,” she added with a nod to Erika.

“Excuse me. What?” Erika asked.

“Think you could beat The Emperor in an arm wrestle?”

Erika paused, first confused over why that was even a question worth asking, then she started to give it a little consideration. “Is she in human mode or all scaled up?”

Anna raised an eyebrow. “Does that matter?”

“Does the premise matter?” Erika shot back. “Why am I wrestling The Emperor anyway?”

Rick chuckled, clapping a hand to her shoulder. “Money,” he said.

Erika rolled her eyes, brushing Rick’s hand away. “Right, you guys have fun—and keep an eye out,” she hissed, glancing around the room like it might have turned into a booby trap while she wasn’t glaring. “I’ve got a question for The Hermit, so…”

Leaving Rick behind with his new-old friend and the other Hunters, Erika slipped past The Tower and stopped in front of The Hermit.

“Hey,” Erika said. When the nine-tailed fox didn’t even flick her golden eyes up from the pages of her book, Erika leaned down to read its spine. Observations on Certain Peculiarities of the Human Constitution by Alistor Henry, M.D. Peering up at the pages, Erika found a fully drawn diagram of a dissected human, complete with little annotations labeling each and every part.

Shaking her head, Erika snapped her fingers, breaking The Hermit’s concentration.

The Hermit blinked, and slowly looked up. She didn’t otherwise move, speak, or react, yet Erika felt a thousand years’ worth of irritation in that one motion.

“Hey,” Erika said again, smiling.

The Hermit breathed a sigh. “Must you?”

“Yeah, actually. It’s kind of important.” Erika waved her hand around, indicating the room as a whole. “Is this place some parallel space?” she asked.

Dipping a hand into the large folds of her kimono sleeves, The Hermit withdrew her pipe. She didn’t smoke it—it didn’t even look lit—she just held it like it was an option. “I do not believe so. At least not like that bridge.” She turned to the large window where The Hanged Man stood, looking out to the dirt road that led up to the manor. “He asked me to investigate a few days ago, and I concluded that this building occupies a physical space, warded such that nobody can enter without being first invited.”

Erika relaxed a little, feeling relieved. That reduced the likelihood that she would encounter a chain, at least so long as The Warrior’s theory held true that those sympathetic links only worked within alternate realms. Except, Erika couldn’t help but feel like that wasn’t the whole story.

“Why is it night here, but evening outside?” Erika asked.

“I’m less certain,” The Hermit admitted without hesitation. “Time dilation caused by the wards? Inhabitants requiring permanent darkness? Or just an enchanted sky to lend the manor some mystique?”

Erika stared over The Hanged Man’s shoulders, frowning. She felt that she would have noticed anything weird going on with time. She wasn’t Carter, but that was still within her wheelhouse.

As she stared, another vehicle pulled up outside, parking alongside The Eclipse’s SUVs. It was an older-style Volkswagen Bus, though it looked like it had seen better days. The white and red body paint peeled away from the frame in places, a hubcap was missing, and the windows were odd. The windows didn’t look so much like they were tinted as they looked like someone went and slopped black paint over each one, even the main windshield, blocking them entirely. Some of that black paint dribbled down the side of the van, streaking into the red and white.

“Ah, speaking of inhabitants requiring darkness…” The Hermit said as the side door popped open. “The Galleria has arrived.”

Looking around with about as much suspicion as Erika and The Hunters had, a group of people hopped out from the bus. The first description that popped into Erika’s mind was a gangly gaggle of emo theater kids. Men and women alike wore pale makeup with heavy black eyeliner, hair styled in swishes over one eye. Not a single one of them wore a color besides black, white, and silver from studs they wore in their jackets.

“The Galleria?” Erika asked, only taking her eyes off the window when the newcomers moved out of view, toward the front door. “Are they… human?”

“Used to be. They suffer from an infectious parasite that encourages the ingestion of blood.”

“They’re…” Erika turned a flat look on The Hermit, but she looked entirely serious. “How infectious?”

“I’d recommend against allowing one of them to bite you or your friends.”

“Vampires,” Erika said, sardonic as the lounge door opened. “They’re vampires.”