Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin)

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Drasmyr (Prequel: From the Ashes of Ruin) Page 38

by Matthew D. Ryan


  Coragan reseated himself on a rock, then poked the fire with a stick. “So that’s the explanation then. Vampires.”

  “Yes. Vampires,” Borak said.

  “My monster lore isn’t quite up to snuff,” Galladrin said. “What the bloody Hell is a vampire?”

  Borak shifted uncomfortably, apparently in regret that he had given voice to his knowledge. He flicked his gaze back and forth between rogue and bounty hunter. Both had their eyes locked on him. Finally, the warrior accepted the inevitable and spoke. “A vampire is a creature of the night. It is one of the undead.”

  “Undead?” Galladrin leaned over and picked up a small smooth stone. He breathed a puff of warm vapor on it, then rubbed it against his shirt. “Like an animate skeleton? Or a ghost?”

  Borak nodded. “Yes, but far more powerful than either. Even the ghost pales beside the strength of a vampire.”

  Coragan folded his arms across his chest and looked doubtfully at the warrior. “How is it you know so much of these creatures? For myself, I have heard of them. But I do not know their strengths and weaknesses. I recall something about sunlight, but that is it. What of the roses, the mirror, and the river?”

  Borak sighed, a distant look coming to his eyes. His voice sounded flat, without focus. “I will tell you what I know. Much of it comes from the legends of my people. I come from the wilds of Skaren, north and east of here. It is a desolate place filled with many hardships. My people live a nomadic life in a brutal, unforgiving wilderness. We have traveled across many lands and heard many tongues, but always we return to the harshness of our homeland. It is this harshness that makes us strong.” The warrior reached down to grab a small handful of white snow. Ignoring the pain of his injuries, he squeezed his hand into a fist and watched as the melted water ran in small runnels down his wrist. “We have heard many legends in our times and in our travels, but few compare in horror to those of our own land. We know of men who can become as wolves when Silgaren is in full glory. We know of women who live in trees and lure the unsuspecting to an eternity inside. We know of creatures so alien, they exist as balls of light which mesmerize the unwary. But the horror we most fear, the terror of which we speak in only the softest of whispers, is the creature we have seen tonight. It is the vampire. I tell you I would just as soon wrestle a werewolf with my bare hands or track a wil-o-wisp to its lair before I’d choose to face a vampire.”

  “I noted you did treat Lucian with considerable respect,” Galladrin said, dryly. He hefted the small polished stone in his right hand, weighing it for a throw.

  “Respect? That might not be the right word. But I certainly would not take a vampire lightly.”

  “Why?” Galladrin tossed the rock into the night, and listened carefully for the soft plunk as it landed in the river.

  Borak studied the rogue carefully, stroking his chin as he did so. Finally, he spoke. “They are nearly impossible to kill for one. We each possess weapons wrought by some of the finest human metalsmiths, yet they are useless against a vampire. Galladrin’s rapier passed through Clarissa like she wasn’t even there. Not even a blade made by lithlyn hands can harm them, unless it is enchanted. Only weapons wrought with the aid of magic, or those forged of purest silver can harm a vampire. Even if one does defeat one of these creatures with such a weapon, it is very unlikely that it will be destroyed. There are only three ways to truly vanquish a vampire—wooden stakes, sunlight, and running water. A stake through the heart while it sleeps in its coffin—did I mention vampires sleep in coffins? They do. They rest there during the day. If you catch one in its coffin and drive a stake through its chest it will die a horrid death.” Borak motioned to the river around them, then continued, “If the vampire is immersed in running water, it will likewise be destroyed. Finally, there is the sun, as Coragan mentioned. As the bringer of light and life to the world, the sun has the power to incinerate a vampire if such a creature is ever exposed to its rays.”

  Coragan poked the fire again, startling everyone as the blaze sparked anew. He nodded once to himself in thought, then asked, “Why can’t they fly across the river? They did change into bats, right?”

  “Yes, they can take many forms: bats, wolves—the rat!” Borak’s eyes lit up, and his face grew even paler in the light.

  Several long moments passed, then Galladrin grew impatient. “What about crossing the river?”

  “They just can’t!” Borak snapped, irritably. “If they fly too close to the running water, they’ll lose the power of flight and plummet to their death.” Borak paused, and fidgeted nervously. “We have to get back to the guild. We have to warn the wizards.”

  “Warn the wizards?” Coragan asked, a little surprised. “They aren’t the ones in danger from these vampires—”

  “But they are!” Borak’s voice had taken on a note of desperate urgency. With obvious effort he forced the anxiety from his words. “Let me explain. As powerful as vampires are, they still have several very peculiar and very distinctive weaknesses. You asked about roses. Well, a rose will block a vampire’s passage across any type of threshold. They are very useful in restraining the undead inside a coffin. Likewise, the scent of garlic acts as a powerful repellent of vampires. If enough fills a room, they will be unable to enter. Then there are the mirrors. As incorporeal, undead creatures, vampires have no soul and thus, cast neither shadow nor reflection. Legend has it that a mirror reveals their inherent emptiness to them and thus can be used to drive them back. We made ample use of that tonight. I suggest we keep that in mind in the future—”

  “Actually,” Galladrin interrupted, “I was planning on forgetting about the objects that saved our lives. Weren’t you?”

  Borak glared at the rogue, then continued. “Lastly, and most importantly is the matter concerning invitations. According to legend, a vampire cannot enter a building or human structure of any sort unless it is first invited. Once invited, the creature can come and go as it pleases.” Borak paused and took a deep breath before proceeding. “I saw a rat a few nights ago in the wizards guild. It was pretty big for a rat and it was watching us. I felt sure there was some kind of intelligence behind it, but I just couldn’t figure out what it was. If that was one of the vampires, then that means it has entered the guild house. It can go there at any time now, and may be on its way there at this very moment. We have to warn them.”

  Coragan readjusted his position on the rock and frowned. Both Galladrin and Borak turned to look at him, expectant of some comment. He considered their options carefully, then said, “I’m sorry, Borak, but we can’t leave here yet. I have no desire to fight these creatures any more tonight if we don’t have to. If you hadn’t noticed, we are all wounded. You, for one, have a broken arm and look like you’re about to keel over unconscious as soon as I turn away. Galladrin’s leg got chewed on, as did my shoulder. And we mustn’t forget, I lost my horse. That means if we did head toward the guild, Galladrin and I would have to ride double and that would slow us down.” Coragan paused to study the sky. “If what you say is true, the vampires should be done their roamings at dawn. That is only a few hours away anyway—so even if we were to head back to the guild tonight, we wouldn’t arrive until nearly noon and the vampires would be gone and done whatever they were planning long before we ever got there. No, the wizards will have to fend for themselves tonight. After all, they do have the powers of magic on their side.”

  Borak’s voice was chilled, like the dead earth of winter. “I only hope that will be enough.”

 

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