The Walking Tree

2.

Hours after he wrote those notes Adriano Neptuniano was sleeping in a hammock hanging between two trees next to the transparent wall. His dream was cut short by a flying car exploding when it hit the wall not an arm distant from his head. Adriano jumped away and stayed on the ground mesmerized by the spectacle of flames and the remaining engines where keeping the small piece of star attached to the wall. Until the machine give up its last hopes, and the flying car start the trip to the ground level.

There was other cars too, with people shutting at each other. And military helicopters, larger but less maneuverable than the cars. A pixel brough details of the scene to the transparent wall, asking for Adriano’s permission to inform something. Wasn’t marked as urgent.

_Go on._ he granted.

“Mr Ziral from 42 flours bellow got aggressive visitors tonight. I could not find out if they are a consequence of business partners not being content with his behaviour. Or if they were trying to kidnap him for extorsion. Those are the most likely hypothesis, at least for now. There is no obvious connection between that any you, Adriano, except geographic proximity. I didn’t notice any weapons in those cars that has potential to pierce our walls, but I would feel more comfortable if you didn’t stayed that close to it right now.”

That was a friendly pixel, and one close to human levels of intelligence apparently. It had not showed any visual avatar, but the voice was personal and sounded like a human adult. “Woman, 30 years old” decided Adriano. As the conflict continued in the light tunnel outside, and he started taking measures to help the fairy “fell more comfortable”.

Apartments like that usually have a fairy steward or housekeeper, and it is the only one who deals with the humans directly. Here there was this unpredictable roster system, and Adriano elected to keep it, rater than enter negotiations with Seelie Court in order to change it to a more usual way.

After a glass of passion fruit juice whit cognac, he called the voice back, tapping a sigh on the desk table. It confirmed things had calmed outside, and asked if Adriano wanted research done on the matter. He decided against it. Favours from fairies are only free up to a certain point, and is usually better to save that space of free good will for when you actually need it.

The fire explosion next to his head gave an extra layer for his concern about security.

Next day was almost entirely dedicated to make contact with old acquaintances who cold likely point him in the right direction. Save for two hours of work, that he could not neglect. Some of the richest human beings in Gerunda are horse breeders, as a hobby, and is not too unlikely for them to have had contact with Adriano’s work. A few minutes of conversation and a name or two are easy enough to get. Problem is that most conventional people who have a solid reputation in private security are not looking for the kind of arrangement Adriano can offer. They would rater get payment in money.

“What you need” said one of those war veterans “…is someone no one else would work with. A professional who used to be respected but has fallen in disgrace for some reason. Difficulty is to find one professional with that profile who is in disgrace for a reason that would not make you not want to have this person around you. Much less inside your house”. He promised to keep an eye open for that, but as the day became night Adriano Neptuniano still had nothing.

He walked back to that spot in the wall. There was no memory of the explosion in the solid transparent surface.

The feminine voice came back to his memory, and he wondered what could be the name of that pixel. Which kind of face she gives herself, when she chooses to have one? Indulge in erotic fantasies with fairies is not the smartest thing a human can do, and is by far less stupid than indulge in romantic dreams. On the other hand, he asks himself, silently “when humans had shortage of foolishness?”.

This time he saw it, not a shadow but a tree trunk, passing behind other two. Perfectly framed, despite the distance.

Like a children, without think an extra second, he jumped an run to that part of the forest.

Months ago he had expended dozens of hours looking for references of walking trees and things that could exist in an apartment like that and look like walking trees. He failed to find an decent candidate outside the realm of mental disease. In the absence of any other symptom he had to exclude that one, for parsimony. We will be calling it “parsimony” here, just so you know. Fear was not available.

So, the joviality in this run had tones of curiosity, moved by parsimonious desire of put the hypothesis of delirious of table for good.

What seemed to be the tree “trail” ended abruptly on a wall of roots. Frustrating the sportscaster. Who went to an improvised sandwich down his throat, he had not eaten anything since breakfast. So, he could properly relax in a hot bath for three quarters of hour.

When Adriano stepped out of his suit, aiming for the library, the strange was in front of him, on the opposite direction.

Not a tree, to be fair.

She was tall and slim for a Gerunda woman, dressed in a long white chemise which was transparent enough to hint for the fact that she was wearing nothing else bellow. Just barely transparent enough for it. Waves of honey falling in cascade, framing her holders. And her bare feet touched the crimson carpet.

Only one kind of person enters the houses of others like that in Lira System. She had to be a vampire. You are supposed to fight them.

Vampires hunt humans for blood, not just because they need human blood. Equally, because they need the hunt itself. Humanity, needs vampires. So, when a vampire comes for you, you either fight or fly, and you make your best effort. Even if you don’t feel like. Not just because the vampire may kill you in frustration if you don’t, but mainly because human survival depends on keeping that protocol.

All that crossed the mind of Adriano, when he saw the lassies nipples piercing the fabric, and got momentarily distracted.

Them he saw himself momentarily assuming a comic boxer position.

No neonate fresh from his transformation would try the luck in a neighbourhood like that. Those high luxurious apartments have defensive measures of physical and techno-magical nature, which are more than enough to keep all but the most powerful vampires out. Those who like in those places usually have weapons of war, and ammo mixed with techno-magic preserved by vampiric blood: expensive stuff, but the only way to actually hurt, and potentially even destroy, vampires. Outside the Light of Lira.

Adriano, that goes without saying, had no such weapons.

The woman looked at him, as if she was trying to understand what he was doing. Them she finally gave him a protocolar answer.

_I am not hunting. I am visiting, friend of the family. Isabella Grave-Worm_ she added, extending her hand.

Adriano moved his weight between his food a few times, digesting her comment. The broke the posture, back to his normal.

_The Warlocks are not here, anymore. Teobald gave me the apartment in perpetuity. Still belongs to his family, but it is mine for life.

_”Per-pe-tuity” she said, with a suggestion of smile at one side of her lips. As if the word tasted like desert, but was a bit too sweet perhaps.

Like a children’s desert.

_Oh, yep, I know! Vampiric shit, human live “is so brief” and all that…_then, he finally remembered his manners_ Adriano Neptuniano, nice to meet you.

_I came to borrow a book. One of those impressed, in dead trees.

_Sure. I mean, you are trespassing. That’s my home now, not even Teo has the right to enter like that! Not that I would try to stop you, or make a fuss about. Honestly, tonight I am happy to have someone to talk to. Do you know where this book is supposed to be?

_In the library, six shelf, right to the jade column.

_Let’s look for it, if you don’t mind my company.

_No, Mr Neptuniano, I suppose tonight I can use some conversation myself. Very traditional family name, I understand. Frow the half of Baby Steps Age, if memory serves me. Some ship-captains are related to you, probably. High nobility in the days of Heliopolis.

_Well, not necessarily, it is a big family! In my case, yes, there is a Mayor-Tyrant of one of those Heliopolis who ruled for the 75 years of Heliopolis Age. Of course, that was a long time ago, almost one thousand years. What about your name? How did you decided for such a bold choice?

_What you mean?

_Well, I don’t know much about Nocturnal Lore. Did someone chose it, for you, like a godfather or something?

_No, Horse-Singer, that was my pick.

_”Isabella Grave-Worm”, don’t you think it is too bold? You know who THE “Isabella Grave-Worm” is, of course. I mean, if you made your basic education as a human child more than 500 years ago you probably heard more about the Pact that what we hear today. Not less.

“Isabella Grave-Worm is one of the first Elder Vampires awaken by the human mages, in their exploratory travels through astral plane. She has a huge role in stablishing the Pact between humans, mages and Elder Vampires, and was one of the first to create human based vampires. Allegedly, she is the second oldest and most powerful Elder Vampire to deal with human authorities and take part in the negotiations for the Pact…”

That make the woman turn her back to him, and walk away from the shelves, leaving the found book on a wooden table.

_Then that makes me the oldest and most powerful one, now_ she said, as if to herself. With infinite sorrow in her voice_ Balthasar the Wise is no more, since 12 hours ago.

A wave of panic moved through the human man, standing on that room. There was no running, or hiding, or fighting, or panicking, to be tried. If she was how she was claiming to be. The Elders, those are the Aliens who where here, sleeping, when humanity arrived in Lira System. Who stayed sleeping for 75 years, after our specie arrive. They are less vampires than deities, really. Mercifully distant deities, usually.

He decided she was lying. About her identity, not about her sadness.

She seemed so sad, that he dared to came closer. Rest a hand on her shoulder. And hold her in her arms.

Isabella rested her head against his chest for a moment. Allowing this ephemeral strange to comfort her.

Then she pushed him away, a little.

_I am not, hunting. _she murmured.

They kissed, and he cut his tong in her sharp fangs once. By accident.

Then, both of them missed track of their sorrows, for a while.

Her body was impossibly perfect, and young, like the bodies of vampires with more than 500 years of nocturnal activity are notorious for being. Hot, what meant she must have fed recently. However, Adriano was not thinking about any of that.

He was thinking only with his skin, tong, and years. She was a female in his arms, a woman he wanted, a welcome instant of silence casting away his concerns about safety.

Perhaps, for her, he was something similar.

After, she stayed on his shoulder for hours.

Then, she raised to her feet, and found her chemise long on the floor.

No point in asking why she needed to go. Vampires obviously need to go, before lirarise. And Adrian had no idea about how far she would have to travel to reach the place she calls home. Where she feels safe to expend the lighting hours.

_I was not “hunting” either. _he pointed.

She turned to him, smiling in return.

_I would not accuse you of that, Horse-Singer.

_You forgot the book!

_I was planning in read it here, not taking it with me. Is poetry, not any sort of technical manual. I am not in the mood that moved me to want to read it, in the first place.

_You are welcome to came back, for the book. When you feel like.

_You are a generous man, with your books. Mr Neptunian.

_I would like to see you again, Mrs Grave-Worm. Honestly.

_It’s “Miss”, if we are being formal. It is good to know, Mr Neptunian. I think I would like to see you again, as well,

And in saying that she faded, like a dream.

Leaving the Horse-Singer with an irrational impression of fear. The physical sensation of having made a mistake of some sort.