Chapter Ten
Invitation to a Gala
Almost to the threshold of her building, Catherine thought she heard a sound like footsteps behind her. Quickly she ducked into the entryway of her building only to be surrounded by a group of strange men. Dressed in ragged tunnel-wear, they were all unknown to her. They closed in on her, and as she lashed out at one of them, another grabbed her from behind, pinning her arms behind her.
"Hold her, Seth, ‘til I get her tied up good and tight." Catherine struggled valiantly but was soon tightly bound.
"What do you want with me?" she asked, breathless and scared.
"Just cool it, girlie. We ain’t goin’ to hurt ya. His lordship wants to see ya," the one named Seth answered.
"His lordship?"
"Yeah, he thinks he’s the king of the tunnels."
"Oh my god, Paracelsus."
"That’s him, all right. There’s gonna be a party . . . an evening social he calls it. Got some real good entertainment lined up. And you’re invited," he said flatly.
Catherine was certain that she was going to be the main attraction, and she was equally certain that she didn’t want to be.
One of the men picked her up and threw her over his shoulder. After a long and uncomfortable trip, they came to a dark and dismal cavern almost as large as the Great Hall. She was unceremoniously dumped on the floor and left there alone. Looking around, she noted that the cavern was dimly lit by three guttering torches. The cavern was empty of furniture except for a huge throne like chair that sat on a raised platform in the middle of the chamber. On the wall opposite the chair hung a set of chains and iron bracelets. She had a sinking feeling that they were meant for her, and she wondered if Vincent knew what was happening. Somehow she could not believe that he was part of all this. She feared for both of them because Paracelsus was capable of anything.
*
Brightening light brought her back from her musings. Paracelsus stood over her, gloating. "Get her out of those ropes," he ordered. "Chain her to the walls."
Seth and a man he called Scooter untied her and then manacled her to the wall. When she looked around, she found that she was surrounded by a motley group of rough and evil looking people. They were dressed in the same kind of dirty tunnel wear as the men who had taken her, but several of them were minus a hand, an eye, or an ear. They all looked underfed, unwashed, and unkempt.
"I’m delighted you decided to accept my invitation," Paracelsus said, smiling his cold, insane smile.
"Cut the bull, I’m not here because I want to be," she snarled at him.
"But Vincent and I have such great plans for you this evening," he complained. "You will be impressed."
"What have you done with him? Is he all right? Where is he? When can I see him?" she rattled off a list of questions.
"Oh dear, so many questions. All in due time, my dear," he answered as he climbed the platform and settled into the large chair. "You look a little tense. Are you frightened?"
"Yes." She glanced warily at the crowd as it pressed closer.
With an imperious wave of his hand, he waved the crowd back. "Are you afraid of me yet?"
"No, just of what you might do to Vincent."
"You’re not afraid of him?"
"No, never of him."
"Maybe you should be," he whispered ominously as he leaned forward, his hands grasping the arms of his chair as if he was willing her to be afraid. "He may not be the Vincent you know and love."
"Nevertheless, I do not fear him. You don’t know him."
"I know him better than you think," he snapped. "I know what makes him the sublime creature that he is."
"You know nothing about him, only your own sick dreams of what you think he is."
"I was part of the group that made him. I know how he was created. In a way I am his father."
"But he was found behind St. Vincent’s . . ."
"By my wife. That was a story that she concocted to protect me. She took him from the institute and gave him to Jacob to keep him from me."
"What do you mean?" she asked suspiciously.
"I made him what he is today," he said with malicious pleasure, proudly as if he had surpassed God, as in his sick mind, he thought he had.
The horror of those words sent her mind skittering off in a new direction. "But he was ill and almost died."
"He was the only one that survived. I never knew why."
"There were others?" The inhumanity just kept growing.
"Yes."
"I know why he lived," she said, confident in her knowledge. "It was Father’s love and care that saved him."
"Nonsense. He was just stronger and survived."
"I pity you," she cried.
"You pity me?" Shocked at her words, he leaned back in his chair.
"Yes, you know nothing of love and its power."
"The power of love?" he scoffed. "We shall see about that." With an angry wave of his hand, he dismissed her and her argument. He sat, lost in his thoughts, while the crowd was murmuring, laughing, and joking in a manner that sent shivers up and down her spine. She sensed an expectancy about them of some titanic event that was about to happen, that would add some excitement to their drab, little lives. The way they looked at her brought home the full force of the fact that she was the focal point of the great event.
"Bring the beast in," Paracelsus shouted over the noise of the mob. Several men followed Seth out, and when they returned, they pulled a large cloth-covered cage into the cavern. Even before they removed the cloth, she knew who was in it. How he hated to be caged, especially after the Hughes incident.
"Remove the cloth. Let her see her beloved." Paracelsus was enjoying every minute. Seth pulled the cloth away, revealing a Vincent totally lost in the affects of the crystal dust.
"What have you done to him?" Catherine shouted at the gloating man over the rising hubbub of the crowd that mimicked Vincent’s every movement: cavorting, growling, and snarling.
"Nothing," he answered. "I’ve just released his true self."
Calming herself as she recognized the drug’s affect on Vincent, she said, "You’re wrong. If that is his true self, you have failed for he is uncontrollable in this state. And the drug will eventually kill him."
Paracelsus merely looked at her and smiled. "Put the cage in front of her and release the beast."
With her heart breaking, she watched the drug-maddened man/beast, completely lost to himself, emerge from the cage. There was no recognition in his eyes as he menacingly approached her. "Are you frightened yet, Catherine?" Paracelsus purred, his voice coldly exultant.
"No! He will not harm me."
"Vincent!" the madman shouted. "Kill her. Kill her. Kill her."
"Kill her . . . kill her . . . kill her . . . ," the crowd chanted.
Covering his ears, Vincent crouched before her, shaking his head violently. He looked up at her and could see that she was saying something that he couldn’t hear for all the voices in his head. By focusing on her, he was able to hear some of what she was saying.
" . . . me, Catherine . . . love you."
The chanting was beginning to get to him, and the red haze of blood lust was forming before his eyes. He rose to tower above her, and with hand raised, he advanced on her.
"Do it . . . do it," Paracelsus crooned.
Vincent’s eyes came to rest on Catherine’s face. Her pleading eyes locked with his wild ones, and from somewhere deep inside him, he saw her through the red haze as the angel woman of his dreams and all his memories rushed back. With a roar, he spun around. "No!" he shouted as he waded through the suddenly silent crowd, trying to get to Paracelsus.
"Get him!" the man screamed at the crowd. Fighting with all his might, Vincent was driven to the floor by the weight of the mass of bodies that beset him. As he fell to the floor, he saw that Paracelsus was no longer in his chair.
"As long as you live, he will never be mine," Paracelsus said, approaching her.
"He will never be yours," she replied confidently as she watched the madman glide up to her. The hour of her death was fast approaching, and she regretted nothing more than the idea that she would be leaving the man she loved.
"With you dead, the good part of him will die or go mad, and then I can do with him what I will." The double-edged blade snicked into place behind his right hand, and he lunged at her ready to rip her open. She twisted and turned, trying to get away from him, but he caught her in the side. She screamed as he twisted the blade.
With superhuman effort, Vincent rose from the floor, flinging bodies right and left. Searching for Paracelsus, he found him about to make another stab at Catherine. Totally absorbed in the act of ending of her life, the madman was unaware of the danger behind him. As he made a move toward her, he was neatly dispatched by a lethal blow from Vincent’s powerful hands. Throwing the body aside, he gathered her into his arms, tearing the chains from the call. "Catherine. Catherine," he cried.
"I knew you couldn’t hurt me." She touched his cheek lightly and went limp in his arms.
He held her close to his heart, shielding her body with his from the maddened crowd. Without Paracelsus to lead them, they were like a headless chicken, running around mindlessly. He could hear them slowly coalesce into a senseless mob bent on destroying something: them. Soon the crowd was pelting him with whatever was at hand. Just when he thought he could take no more, there was a change in the ferocity of the mob. They were still screaming and shouting but with a difference. Fear had replaced the blood-lust.
"Vincent," he heard Pascal shout.
"Over here," he answered, relaxing his rigid guard of the precious burden he held in his arms.
The mob was running in all directions with members of the Community chasing them. For the first time in his life, he saw his family carrying weapons, crossbows, and clubs. He bowed his head in sadness to think that all of Paracelsus’ machinations had led to this.
Pascal and William rushed up. "Are you all right?" William asked.
Pascal peered at him closely then nodded, satisfied at what he saw in Vincent’s eyes.
"Yes, but Catherine was stabbed by Paracelsus."
Leaning down to touch her, Pascal stated, "She’s alive."
"I must get her to Father. Pascal, you and William finish up here." Cradling his love in his arms, he started to leave the cavern.
"Ok. Welcome back," Pascal said. "We’ve missed you."
"It’s good to be back."
William grinned at him happily then turned to follow Pascal.