Once It Gets Dar

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CHAPTER 15--WHAT LIES BELOW

"So, who is winning the dick-measuring contest?" Vo'ren asked, and his low, deep voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up as he pushed open the glass door bearing the white letters

Pizza e Basta

.

"You, of course, mishtz'in." I turned to him and playfully patted the lapels of his uniform.

He laughed hoarsely, and my stomach fluttered. He looked all dashing and full of dark menace in his armor, with his weapon belt strapped around his broad chest, his deadly blade at his side, and his face covered with the black scarf of the daylight uniform. I was also covered up but had left the uncomfortable leather chest plates in the car with Vik Ichel.

The Counselor, it seemed, had not been too excited about the prospect of pizza, and so we had dropped him off at the embassy before we came here. I was almost disappointed about missing out on Suchil Tem trying his first Margherita, but above all, I was glad to be alone with Vo'ren. One powerful Veril official was more than enough to worry about.

Inside, warm humidity and the mouthwatering scent of garlic and oven fresh dough immediately engulfed us, and I adjusted my head covering in an attempt to get more air. My favorite late-night pizza place was a small takeout restaurant, equipped with four simple tables made out of dark, shiny wood and a big glass counter displaying different kinds of giant pizzas that were sold in separate slices. The place was almost empty, except for three men waiting for their order and two employees--also men, of course; it was as if the Veril invasion had annihilated a whole century of feminist progress. A TV was running in the background--currently the only source of sound since everybody was staring at us silently, frozen in shock.

Vo'ren bared his teeth. "Do not fear,

humans

. I have come for a taste of your food, not for your blood."

He crossed the room in three long strides, pulling me along, and I shook my head. Somehow I had pictured this whole endeavor as more fun than it was turning out to be. His rudeness had not bothered me with the arrogant politicians--to be honest, it had been amusing then--but these were normal people who just wanted to work or enjoy a midnight snack, and I didn't like that we were ruining that for them.

The men's fear of Vo'ren made me acutely aware of who he was, even though I supposed they hadn't even recognized him under his scarf. I pressed my eyes shut and swallowed, remembering the rebels hanging from the Brandenburg Gate. My heart accelerated, and I breathed in deeply to calm myself before he would notice.

I had resolved to stay with him, I reminded myself, and I had good reasons to stick to that decision.

Firstly, I was pregnant with his baby, and even if I managed to escape--which I wouldn't--and abortions were obtainable--which they weren't--the mere thought of terminating made me nauseous. I was not against a woman's right to choose, quite on the contrary, but ever since I had seen the little heart beating inside of me, I knew deep in my bones that I wanted,

needed

to see my child grow up. And that meant I would have to depend on his power and protection to keep the baby and me safe.

I watched him approach the counter in silent and inhumanly fluid steps while the employees were looking at him, like they were awaiting their execution. The second reason I needed to stay by his side was that I might actually have a chance to save my fellow humans. I had fancied myself some kind of spy, trying to help my country by finding military intelligence, but in the end all I had managed was to send a useless photo and put my friend in danger. But if Vo'ren really cared about me, which his past behavior let me hope he did,

maybe

I could make him care about the rest of humanity as well. At least I would have to try and not stop trying until the very end, whatever that might be.

I straightened my back and stepped in front of the counter between Vo'ren and the unfortunate employees; my shoulders brushed against his broad chest, and goosebumps ran down my spine. There was, of course, also the third reason: when he was not scaring me to death, I actually liked him. But that was a different problem altogether.

"One arugula pizza and one..." I turned around and looked at him reflecting for a second before I added, "And one with mushrooms."

I really wanted Vo'ren to enjoy human food, and bread, mushrooms, and cheese were typical ingredients in many of the Veril dishes I had tried at camp, so I hoped he might not find it too exotic.

"To go?" The employee's frightened eyes met mine and I froze.

I knew him--not well, but I used to stop here on my way back from university, and we were on a friendly first name and small talk basis. I nodded and quickly turned my head, hoping he hadn't recognized me under my headcover.

"Vishtersh," Come,

I grabbed one of the leather straps of his armor and pulled Vo'ren behind me to one of the empty tables while he chuckled, pleased at my attempts to speak Veril.

We sat down, waiting for our pizza to be heated up in the big brick oven. He looked completely out of place: too massive, too powerful, too deadly for this simple restaurant. It had been a mistake to bring him here; I was putting everybody in danger just for my stupid whims and cravings. A glance at the television did nothing to make me feel better. The screen showed Gruber, who was apparently holding a press conference, but the volume was too low for me to understand what he was saying.

"He has been quick to find his voice again," Vo'ren snarked as he lazily followed my gaze. I glared at him, and he raised his eyebrows and asked, "Is something the matter, my sweetest?"

"I know that might come as a shock for you,

mishtz'in

, but I don't find rape threats particularly charming. That's not why I told you he had a daughter."

His eyes narrowed, sparkling with mirth at my outrage. "I already knew he had a daughter."

He could be so infuriating, I shook my head in disbelief and hissed in my lowest voice. "Is that what you did with the cashier from that store?"

His face instantly darkened, and I felt a smug satisfaction when I saw him tense up in anger as I reminded him of the evening I had tried to run, and for a second we glared at each other.

"No. That is not what I did with her," he replied with a voice so cold it made all my hair stand up in horror.

"Einmal Rucola, einmal Champignons."

The employee's voice was remarkably steady as it cut through my thoughts.

"I need to pay." I whispered, angry at the slight tremor in my voice, and stretched my hand out to him while I stood up.

He directed his golden eyes at me and held my gaze for a second before he pulled a leather pouch, similar to the one he had given me to go shopping, out of his pockets and dropped it casually in my palm. It was tightly filled and heavy, and while I walked up to the counter, I wondered what Vo'ren used all that money for.

I tried not to meet the employee's eyes as I fished out a crisp fifty new mark bill and handed it to him, ready to take the white plastic bag containing the carton with our pizza slices in return. But he hesitated, and I looked up to see what was going on. His gaze was glued to the TV screen, and his face as pale as if he had seen a ghost. I turned around. The news had switched from Gruber's press conference to a recording of

us

greeting the Kanzler and his minister.

White letters running along a red stripe at the bottom of the screen wrote:

Just a translator? Who is the mystery woman at the side of General Tsul Vo'ren?

The employee's eyes flitted back and forth between me and the television; I could practically watch him connecting the dots.

"We leave now." I almost jumped as I suddenly heard his voice right behind me and his hand closed around my arm, sending little sparks of electricity through my veins.

The man behind the counter froze in apparent panic, his eyes dropping to the blade on Vo'ren's belt, now clearly aware

who

was hidden underneath the head cover. I quickly snatched the bag out of his hands.

"Keep the change," I said softly while General Tsul pulled me out of the restaurant.

Once we were outside again, Vo'ren reached for the handheld radio on his belt, ready to call Vik Ichel with his vehicle, but I placed my hand on his strong arm to stop him.

"Can we walk a bit?"

We were in the beautiful neighborhood of Prenzlauer Berg, not that far from Tim's and my apartment, and I did not want to miss this chance to show him a bit more of normal human life.

Vo'ren seemed unconvinced, glancing back at the light of the television flickering through the shop window, but his eyes softened when he looked at me again.

"Do you feel well enough? Is my child not bothering you?" He gently ran his index finger over my belly and pulled his head cover off with the other hand.

I beamed at him from under my veil. "I would like to show you my city, and we could eat while we take a walk in authentic Berlin style."

He smirked, apparently unconvinced of the capital's appeal, but then he inclined his head. "Very well, mishtz'in."

A gust of fresh wind blew through the wide and empty street; an ambulance siren sounded in the distance, but besides that, the capital was silent. After feeling a little down in the car and at the restaurant, I was now full of adrenaline and excitement. A stroll through the nocturnal neighborhoods of my favorite city--and pizza. What more could the heart desire? For a moment I felt like a child coming from the ice cream store, barely able to stop myself from skipping down the road.

But then I looked at his imposing presence next to me; he was so alien and lethal in the darkness, and suddenly, like droplets of ink in a glass of water, bitterness tainted my moment of joy. He had the power to forbid and allow me even the smallest pleasures, and in reality, my current elation was just the consequence of being granted a little treat after weeks of disempowerment and humiliation.

I needed to get realistic about what being and staying with Vo'ren really entailed. The last two nights he had demonstrated that he was willing to make amends for me, and I appreciated that--a lot. But I was under no illusion that some croissants, pizza, and a couple of

pleases

and would-you-likes during sex meant I was all of a sudden a free person again.

He had a profoundly different concept of autonomy than I did, and just like he belonged to the Counsel and the many other obligations that filled his left arm with countless marks, I belonged to him and was expected to act accordingly. He had told me from the very beginning that I had to obey him, to share his bed and bear his children, and I would be naive to assume that these demands had fundamentally changed.

As if to confirm my thoughts, he placed his fingers around my wrist; his touch was gentle, almost sweet--he was happy with me right now; I had been good at the reunion, obedient, and loyal to my General--but the gesture still spoke volumes. Vo'ren had gone out of his way to humor me, demonstrated that he respected me, cared about my happiness, and understood that it was hard for me to adapt to the Veril life, but in his eyes I was still his possession.

I inhaled the cool night's air, smelling faintly of exhaust fumes and plants. Vo'ren was difficult, easy to anger, and dangerous, but when I had asked for a demonstration of respect, he had given it to me. Now it was on me to accept and live with his expectations as well, if I wanted our relationship to work. And strangely, I was growing more and more okay with that.

There were definitely worse things than having to spread my legs for him, even if it meant I had to unlearn my human notion of pride. I could keep my General happy--it was my duty in the strange new society I was now part of, and I would fulfill it well. I brushed my finger against his uniform-clad thigh and straightened my back in resolve. Besides, if I succeeded in making him utterly crazy about me, I might also have a better chance he would listen when the time came and I had to beg him to spare my people.

I smiled up at him and pointed at the famous Mauerpark on the opposite side of the street. "I'm surprised you haven't turned it into an air base or something yet."

After the wall that separated West Berlin from its eastern counterpart had fallen, the empty strip of death remained, like a scar running through a traumatized city. But here, between the districts of Wedding and Prenzlauer Berg, the people had embraced the free space and turned it into a green oasis with one of the city's most vibrant flea markets and a famous outdoor karaoke show that attracted hundreds of spectators every Sunday.

He drew the corners of his mouth down as if he were debating the idea. "It is a bit small for the wind riders. But it would be well suited for my tanks--I have been wanting to bring more of them to the capital for a while."

I poked him as hard as I could with my elbow, but he didn't even blink. Hoping he had only been joking, I pulled him into a beautiful street filled with little cafés, second-hand stores, and restaurants from all corners of the world.

All around the ample sidewalk, the residents had put up planters filled with flowers and little trees. Fairy lights in different colors hung between vitrines and branches. Some of them were still glowing--the only source of light under a cloudy sky. All street lamps had to be switched off after midnight--per order of our dear Veril occupiers--and everybody was careful to keep their blinds down lest they would attract attention. I thought we were probably pretty safe from onlooking eyes.

My stomach was rumbling, and I sat down atop one of the empty wooden tables outside of a closed restaurant. I stuffed my head cover into one of the many pockets of my uniform, placed the pizza box in front of me, and took a big bite out of my slice. I had been fantasizing about this for days, but it was even better in reality. The crispy dough, the fatty sweetness of the mozzarella cheese mixed with the almost nut-like taste, and satisfying crunch of the arugula leaves were pure heaven. I closed my eyes and chewed slowly to make the sensation last as long as possible.

When I opened my eyes again, I saw Vo'ren looking unconvinced at his mushroom pizza.

"Is that a special dish of your country?" he asked skeptically; his eyes were reflecting the tiny lights from a tree behind me, making him look even more alien than usual.

"No. It's Italian," I said, covering my full mouth with my hand as I chewed.

I could practically hear the smirk in his voice. "Well, that is a relief. I must admit, I remain unconvinced of the traditional food I have tasted in Hamburg."

I chuckled in agreement--as a proud Southerner, I was not a big fan of North-German cuisine either.

He ripped a piece off the pizza and folded it in half with a similar movement he made when he picked up food with the Veril flatbread. When he put it into his mouth, I actually held my breath, nervous to hear his verdict as I watched him chew. For a while his face remained doubtful, but then he smiled.

"Sumik?" I asked carefully.

He inclined his head, eyes sparkling with mirth. "Once more, I see myself forced to correct my former assumptions."

He took another, bigger piece, and I clapped my hands in excitement. Was my plan working? Was he finally warming up to human culture? Voices were yelling in the distance--probably some drunk guys that had been kicked out of one of the few bars that had remained open after Hamburg.

"Let us walk," Vo'ren said with a scrutinizing look at the houses around us.

On our way down the street, I did my best to point out all the beautiful little stores and decorations, telling him that before the Veril war, even under the New Nationalists, Berlin had been a multicultural city that attracted young and creative people from all over the world with its vibrant cultural scene.

"And what is that?" he asked, gesturing towards the other side of the street. "It reminds me of our training camps for new recruits."

I snorted, "That's not a training camp; it's a playground, a place for children to, well,

play

."

He raised his eyebrows in surprise, but then he said, "I did enjoy those types of training units as well, when I was a child. Of course, we did not use them just for fun."

He looked at the swings and jungle gym, a smile around the corners of his mouth. "I think I would like to see that--children training just for their own pleasure, not because they have to prepare for war."

My heart stung for him, but there was also that bitter feeling again, and I replied, "Well, you're out of luck. Most parents are keeping their kids inside nowadays with your soldiers patrolling the streets."

He tensed and looked straight at me. "The Kirtim Shenk do not harm children."

"So killing their fathers is not harm?" My voice trembled, but I held his gaze.

"Thus is the price of war," he said sharply, and a shiver ran down my spine at the coldness in his voice.

"You killed them all," I whispered, trying to blink away the image of fire and corpses.

It was as if the horror of the fact that I was sharing my bed with the Butcher of Hamburg became more real now that I had dared to speak it out loud, and I couldn't stop the tears from welling up in my eyes.

He shook his head, unmoved.

His tone was curt when he said. "I am a soldier, Anna. It is my obligation to go to war and win. And the faster I win, the better it is for everybody." He drew down the corners of his mouth as he added, "This war has been going on for far too long already."

"But we're not at war anymore." I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand, silently begging for confirmation, but his face remained hard and he didn't respond.

"Is there no other way to break the Curse?" I sniffed, grasping at straws. "What about that oracle from the story? Has nobody ever asked them about it?"

Vo'ren gave me a bitter smile. "Certainly, my sweet. There is even a prophecy."

"Really?" I held my breath. "What does it say?"

He made a mockingly ceremonious gesture with his hands. "It says that the Curse will be broken

when day turns night and time stands still.

" He huffed joylessly. "That means

never

in the language of oracles. Besides, it is too late anyway. There are no more women of childbearing age amongst my kind."

I swallowed at the lump in my throat. "But there is us."

"Itil, mishtz'in--there is you. A drop of hope in the burning light of our annihilation."

"But we could be more than just a drop. We could save each other if we joined our societies and left our differences behind us." I took his hand and placed it tenderly on my belly. "Wouldn't it be nice if our child could play in a place like this? Among other children, human and Veril alike?"

He gently ran his thumb over my stomach and said softly, "Our children will play in the forests of the Shadow Realm amongst all its animals and spirits."

My heart jumped a bit, and suddenly I felt a deep longing to see this foreign dimension, to walk underneath its trees myself, to learn the secrets it held.

I looked up into his beautiful golden eyes. "But why not both? Our child could have the privilege of knowing two different worlds. Wouldn't that be a wonderful gift?"

He just smiled sadly at me, and I remembered with rising anger that the reason he made me study Veril was because he didn't want his children to be raised in German. I stepped away from him and clenched my jaw stubbornly, vowing to myself I would make sure they spoke my native language as fluently as I did.