~~~
Leaving produced even more work. The rush over the next week and a half to get all things done, and to divide Shane’s responsibilities – as she’d be doing all of Starr’s, was quite disruptive to the work flow.
Despite the aggravation, Starr’s attitude had improved, as had her appetite. And boy, it didn’t stop. From raw haggis to fresh kill from the Carpathians right in her backyard. This morning, it was pigeons on the rooftop.
The snow continued. It was just like in the movies. She was going to live life in leisure. And maybe, in a couple months, she might just quit the Council for good.
There were many who weren’t happy, for even though it was modern times, there was still a sense of monarchy in the Council group. Credenza inherited the Council and whoever did so was destined to rule until death. Now, Starr was queen vampire, but this was something that had been happening all over the world: kings and queens abdicated. Birth doesn’t make one right, not in any scenario and not in any sense – and not in death as was her case.
Marla worked harder than ever to get negotiations going with Minister Gabor and the Tax office. But they weren’t relenting. They wanted 20.2 million or else.
On the morning of Christmas Eve, Starr had no choice but to fly to Valhol and find something to sell. In mind was the potions tower where many ancient amulets were stored. She would have rather sold some houses, but there wasn’t time. Stones always sold fast.
The wind stabbed her face like a million needles; her sunglasses froze with icicles to her skin. Weather was even more severe when flying to Valhol, which was at a peak that was nearly impossible to reach without modern jets.
It took several hours to make it to Switzerland, and then she shot straight up, following the peak beyond the clouds. The weight of the atmosphere made her lungs feel like they’d collapse.
Finally, the storm seemed to stop, as she’d climbed so high up into the atmosphere that the storm didn’t reach there. It was warm and the sun shone bright.
Then there was the old familiar stretch of green grass and the large wall that had no gate – because anyone who had business there wouldn’t need a door to get in.
She flew over the wall and landed on the walkway, facing the small bridge that went over the koi pond. As if sensing her presence, they flew across the air and splashed back into the water.
Starr tried to sense if anyone else were there. There was no one. Then, fascinated, she walked over to the bridge and looked into the pond.
How did the fish survive? She’d completely forgotten about them?
They must be Primordial fish she thought and laughed to herself.
All was as the last time she’d visited, which was over ten years ago. She looked in all the chambers and saw nothing but old furniture and books; things so old that if not for the height of the location of Valhol, they would have disintegrated centuries ago due to bacteria and other contaminants.
She found the tower. Rather than look for a door, she flew up and through its arch window ways.
The place was a shambles. Broken vials and stones lay everywhere.
There were many beautiful things there, but she decided that she needed something that would sell immediately with little need for analysis. She needed something easily recognizable and desirable.
Then something caught her eye: a stone artifact that stood up to her middle and was in the corner. From it, she smelled age and the scent of old stone, like lime.
At first she was confused, and then she realized it was a sundial. It could have been from Ancient Greece or Rome, for all she knew.
But no, she thought to herself. She needed something she could sell right away. While there were all kinds of priceless possibilities, they would all need to be authenticated and auctioned off.
A fancy stone, however, could get someone eager to buy. She’d seen this sort of thing in the jewelry shops all the time. What was it that people loved about old rocks? Sure, they’re beautiful, but to perspire over them was something Starr didn’t understand; perhaps because her life was short lived. Certainly, it’s a human connection to the Earth sort of thing.
But there was one problem with selling stones: They were likely imbued with souls, energy or some kind of magic. But as long as the human wasn’t witch, it should be fine.
Then something glistened at her like a marble from the shelf. She reached up and pulled down a couple rough, dusty chunks of clear blue-purplish substance. Dazzling, it was. She sensed there was something special about them, despite how dusty and jagged they were.
She didn’t know what to make of it, as she was no gemologist. One thing she did know was everything in Valhol was old, and likely priceless. So she slipped the stones in her pocket and flew back to the castle.
Starr saw Christmas Eve with new eyes, because it would be her last, hopefully. For that reason, the chandelier appeared even more sparkly, and the fire even more warm. Everyone looked more beautiful than ever as they lounged about with drinks and hors d’oeuvre in their hands.
Under a magnificent tree were a dozen gifts for their annual white elephant game. All of which was carefully selected by the Council’s head party administrator.
Everyone put their name in a hat. Marla got picked first.
She unwrapped an antique wand, which according to the official documents, was owned by Christfer Pompicur; some dead king in an old obscure, corner of Europe, and maybe one of the first Christian kingdoms in history. The wand was older than the supposed birth date of Christ.
Next, a lower admin by the name of Marxus who was about as old as the wand, found himself with a pair of haunted crystals. As they all knew, when witches died, millenniums ago when their race was strong, they’d preserve their powers into crystals and amulets, and on rarer occasions stones, and bequeath them to those they loved, providing them protection, strength and their essence. The goal was to leave your offspring with gifts, and to make them feel their loved ones were always with them even after they’d gone on. And, if you’re a witch at all, you might wield the power for your own.
By the time it got down to Starr, the gifts had dwindled from old world sophisticated to lavish trinkets – which appealed more to the ladies of the group. As a result, the game went on for many hours because people kept swapping. Starr, herself, ended up with a dazzling pair of diamond earrings, so clear and precise in cut that, if not for their dimensions, they were nearly invisible. They looked like ice cubes dangling from her ears.
Mica found herself with an antique gold watch, which she immediately switched for a fifteenth century habok – a Korean style kimono that was worn by a famous sorceress and herbalist who worked for the king of the time.
For the first time in a long time, Starr laughed more genuinely. She felt truly at peace, and when she lay in bed that night, went to sleep without trouble.
New Years