Un2Dead (Book One of the Un2Series)

Despite the recent architectural debauchery committed to the exterior of the mansion the interior remained very tasteful and quite comfortable. Dark walnut-paneled walls and coffered ceilings framed the man in the silk robe walking twenty feet in front of Wit and Joey. No matter how they tried to catch up they never seemed to close the gap between themselves and the mansion’s owner. Their race walk pace carried them past oil portraits of the DeLeon clan, past and present. A few had assumed the classic “I’m posing for my portrait” posture while others were shown on horseback or engaged in battle. The largest of them all graced the wall at the end of the corridor. A gilded frame as wide as a body builder’s thigh surrounded a larger than life, nearly nude figure reclining on a velvet settee. DeLeon had chosen a much more conservative pose for his portrait compared to the bronze tribute to genitalia just outside the door. A gleaming white Les Paul propped at the couch’s edge acted as a fig leaf to the prone musician. One arm draped lazily over his head while the other rested on the floor, a wine glass just beyond his fingertips. Articles of women’s clothing lay scattered about the floor around him. His smile was one of contentment. If placed in a dictionary, this portrait could be used as the definition of afterglow. DeLeon paused for a moment to admire his larger self, allowing Wit and Joey to finally catch up with him.

“Gentlemen,” DeLeon said without taking his eyes off of his portrait,” What do you think? Does it do me justice? Does it capture the real me?”

“It looks like you.” Wit leaned back, looked past DeLeon at Joey and shrugged.

“I know it looks like me, but does it capture my essence?”

“That statue outside certainly shows off your essence, if you get my drift.” Wit elbowed DeLeon who remained nonresponsive. Either he didn’t hear him or more likely was ignoring him.

DeLeon turned and walked a dozen feet down the hallway to a closed pair of double doors marked “Private”. He stopped, turned, and glared with a raised eyebrow. “Are you coming?” He pushed through and was off again.

Joey and Wit sprinted up along either side of him and managed to keep pace. The whole encounter was making Wit feel like he was chasing Alice’s white rabbit. Overhead, the ceiling changed from coffered walnut to a dome of Tiffany stained glass as the hallway widened in what appeared to be an aviary. A great phoenix formed from shards of amber and red circled overhead. Lighting within the dome projected the blazing tail feathers onto the polished marble floor giving the illusion of flames dancing at one’s feet. Lush foliage surrounding a crystal clear pool provided a backdrop to several peacocks that strutted, proudly fanning their plumage. The mosaic of reds and yellows cast from the dome above splashed over the birds like camouflage. DeLeon held his arms out to the sides and brought the group to a stop. He motioned toward the peafowl.

“These are quite rare indeed. They are the last of their kind.”

“I didn’t know peacocks were endangered,” Wit replied.

“These aren’t peacocks. They are so much more than peacocks.”

Deleon turned toward the birds and squatted closer to the ground. Cupping his hands around his mouth he produced a low cooing sound. One of the birds turned towards the threesome and cocked its head slightly. Deleon called again. The fowl slowly moved forward, towing its massive tail feathers. As it drew closer, it became apparent that this indeed was not a peacock. Most of the bird’s body was covered in tiny red feathers packed so dense it looked like it had been formed from red velvet cake. Iridescent teal feathers coated the throat and belly running between the bird’s legs continuing across the underside of the tail. They reflected off of the polished floor, creating the illusion that the animal was hovering on a bed of light. The bird stopped inches away from the threesome and preened its wing. DeLeon reached for the creature and it nested its head into his outstretched hand.

“Go ahead, pet him.” DeLeon nodded at Wit.

Quietly, tentatively, Wit touched the crown on the bird’s head. It was hot to the touch. The bird ruffled its feathers and fanned its majestic tail. A swirl of hot air puffed across Wit’s face. The eye-like patterns across the plumes of the tail seemed to twist and flicker.

“These are direct descendants of the legendary Phoenix. The only ones left on the planet, actually.

My family has watched over them for centuries.” DeLeon rose to his feet and stroked the back of the bird’s head. With a gentle flick of the wrist he shooed the bird back to the rest of the flock.” I can’t remember a time when they weren’t part of the family.”

“They aren’t actually Phoenix, are they?” Wit stared in disbelief.

“Only half. The other half is peacock. My family calls them ‘Pheacocks’ which I have always found to be incredibly mundane. I suggested ‘Blazing-cocks’ or ‘Hot-cocks’ but I got shot down due to the fact that both those names sound like a venereal disease. It is said that my ancestors brought a flock of peacocks as an offering to a Phoenix that had been devouring their livestock. The Phoenix became enchanted by the beauty of the birds and eventually accepted them as his own. At the time of his rebirth he gathered his new found flock into his nest. The great flames consumed the flock, leaving behind a handful of golden eggs. From these eggs rose the Pheacocks you see before you. They are hundreds of years old and still going strong.”

“They’re amazing! Do they do anything special? You said they were hatched from golden eggs. Were they real gold? They must be worth a fortune!” Wit realized how juvenile he sounded as the words left his lips.

“I would think you might be able to appreciate the uniqueness of a hybrid such as these far beyond their monetary value,” DeLeon sighed. ”Their significance must be lost on you.” DeLeon strode across the marble and entered a door at the opposite end of the aviary.

“Nice goin’, Wit. Now he’s ticked off!” Joey shoved Wit from behind as they moved toward the doorway.

Wit tripped forward. “What? It was a stupid question, but I don’t get why it would piss him off?”

“Just don’t do anything else to irk him. When he asks you why we are here tell him your story as simply as possible. Don’t embellish it. Get straight to the point. The clock is ticking and we don’t know how much time you may have left.” Joey nudged Wit through the doorway and followed him into the office.

The portion of the mansion Wit and Joey had seen had an old world sensibility. The décor in this office, on the other hand, looked like a cross between Armani and Tutankhamen. DeLeon had taken a seat behind a polished black slab that cantilevered from a wall of chiseled limestone. A single column of flat screen security monitors projected from the wall at a convenient viewing angle to the desk’s occupant. Views of the front gate, Gary and Leslie folding pairs of jeans in the gift shop, and the mansion’s empty foyer were currently on screen. Besides the glow from the monitors, the only other man-made illumination came from a line of white light that framed the perimeter of a glass ceiling directly above the desk. Beams of moonlight cast as much light on Joey and Wit’s faces as the monitors cast on DeLeon. The larger than human sculptures of Anubis that stood sentry on either side of the doorway could have given the room the appearance of a themed restaurant if not for the fact that they were authentic Egyptian relics. It surprised Wit that the office was void of anything related to music.

“This is very elegant.” Wit ran his hand across the desktop as he and Joey took a seat.” I was expecting something a bit flashy, you know, a little more rock and roll.”

DeLeon pulled forward placing his elbows onto the desk and slowly rubbed his hands together. “This room is a place for business and I feel it should appear as such. DeLeon the businessman and DeLeon the musician are two totally separate entities that need to be kept in their respective arenas. Nobody would ever take the showman and buffoon that I am on stage seriously .I know I wouldn’t. I might allow my name to be put on a bobble-head, but I would never allow myself to be treated as one. Enough about me. Tell me why we’re here.”

Wit took a breath and fast forwarded through the story in his head. Once confident in his facts he began to speak. “I’m in a bit of a jam. It all leads back to some things that happened when your viper was stolen. Things that we neglected to share with you. It was all so absurd and we figured it didn’t change the fact that your snake was gone.” Wit started speaking directly to DeLeon but slowly found himself looking nervously at his own hands.

“Okay, I’m interested. Continue.” DeLeon leaned closer. Wit realized his eroding posture and straightened his spine.

“Those events possibly seemed like they were dead and buried until a couple of days ago when a guy approached me about finding a turquin viper for him. I told him that was a one-time thing and that I hadn’t been the one to locate that one in the first place. He wanted to know who bought the snake. I didn’t tell him it was you, of course.”

“I appreciate that.”

“He continued to press the issue. I tried my best to convince him that I couldn’t help him but he just wouldn’t believe me. He became highly agitated. Fortunately for me we were in a public place or he would have beaten the crap out of me, I’m sure.” Wit allowed his voice to trail off and wondered if DeLeon was buying any of this.

Joey jumped in to help. “The guy threatened his family. He said if Danny didn’t find him a snake or tell him who could, he would hurt his family.”

“I understand your dilemma, but what do you want me to do? I don’t have a snake for you! Why even involve me?” DeLeon push himself back from the desk.

“The Ouroboros.”

“Excuse me?”

“The guy had a tattoo of an Ouroboros on his forearm. The last time I encountered the Ouroboros was when your viper was taken.” Wit found himself looking at his hands again. ”It wasn’t actually taken, per se. It died during a ritual of some kind. A lunatic broke into the store and demanded the viper. How he knew about it, I have no idea. After destroying half the store and nearly killing all of us, he managed to get a hold of the snake. He shoved its tail into its mouth and hung it around his neck. He muttered some spell or chant or something. He called to Osiris and rambled on about the power of the Ouroboros. That is why we are here. The Ouroboros.”

DeLeon ran his hand through his hair and closed his eyes. He began speaking without opening them. “I wish you would have shared this with me when it happened.”

“We didn’t . . . .”

DeLeon raised his hand, cutting Wit off mid-excuse. “I may be able to shed some light on this matter. Follow me.”

He moved from behind the desk back into the aviary and turned down a dimly lit hallway. His pace was slower than before, possibly because he continued to talk. It was much easier for Wit and Joey to keep up with him.

“The guardianship of those horribly named Pheacocks introduced my family to the notion of eternal life. What started as a curiosity over time became an obsession. We researched every culture, every religion, searching for bits of information or clues that could lead us to a life eternal. Our name became synonymous with the quest.” A certain level of pride shone through DeLeon’s last statement.

It took a moment but Wit figured it out. “You mean like Ponce de Leon?”

“I mean exactly Ponce de Leon. The quest for the Fountain of Youth had us traveling to more places than the history books would lead you to believe. We scoured the globe searching for any artifact we had a lead on.”

“How does the Ouroboros fit in with all this?” Wit interjected.

“I’m getting there.” DeLeon bought the group to a stop in front of a set of doors equal in grandeur to the set through which they entered the mansion. ”I believe the answers to most of your questions can be found here.”