Empire of the Vampire
Page 27
“Aaron and I glowered, eyes burning with hatred.
“‘Make. Your. Pax.’
“We hung still a moment longer. But grudgingly, de Coste and I finally shook hands, murmuring a wish for peace that neither one of us shared.
“I knew this feud wasn’t done. Not by a damn sight.
“As punishment, Greyhand worked us harder that day than I could ever recall. Long after Fincher and Alonso left, even after de Séverin took his leave, still our master drilled us—as if he could sweat the enmity from our bodies. Reprieve arrived only when bells rang for duskmass, and when services finished, Greyhand took us back to the Gauntlet for more. By the time I crashed into bed, I was almost comatose, falling into the kind of sleep that only corpses enjoy.
“So it was I awoke in the dark, hours later, gripped with sudden dread.
“I was late for my rendezvous with Astrid.”
X
AN ERRANT SPECK OF FLOTSAM
“IT WAS BLOODY freezing as I stole out of bed. The night after we first met, I’d followed the sisternovice’s instructions and found myself a way out through the old tiles of the Barracks roof. Since then, I’d been sneaking out to meet her every night. Now I moved swift as I could, cutting across the monastery and dodging Keeper Logan, but it was close to second bell by the time I stole through the Library’s front door.
“The gates to the forbidden section were unlocked as always. But sneaking through the warren of forgotten lore, I found Astrid’s table empty. Looking around the long rows of books and curios, I could smell candlesmoke and the scent of silverbell and rosewater, but I couldn’t see a soul. It seemed the sisternovice had tired of waiting.
“‘Shit,’ I sighed.
“‘Indeed,’ came a voice behind.
“‘Sweet fucking Redeemer,’ I gasped, spinning in fright.
“‘Flattering. But I prefer when you call me Majesty.’
“Astrid stood there between the shelves, dark eyes sparkling, skin pale as starlight. It seemed for a moment she was a piece of the night itself come alive. I smiled at the simple sight of her, but that smile died quickly as I spied a figure in the shadows beside her. As it stepped into the candlelight, I saw wildly curled mousy brown hair, pretty green eyes, and freckled skin. A girl Astrid’s age, but almost a foot shorter.
“‘… I know you,’ I frowned.
“‘Gabriel de León,’ Astrid said. ‘May I present Sisternovice Chloe Sauvage.’
“‘Fairdawn, Initiate,’ Chloe murmured. ‘A pleasure to see you again.’
“I looked to Astrid in question. As far as I was aware, we were meeting as we’d done the last fortnight—to search for mention of the fifth line, discover the truth of daysdeath.
“‘Chloe is a friend, Gabriel,’ Astrid said. ‘The dearest I have within these walls.’
“‘I’ve no doubt. But what’s she to do with me?’
“‘You owe me favor, do you not?’
“I groaned inwardly. ‘Oui.’
“‘I owe Chloe more than one. Services rendered and suchlike.’ Astrid waved a hand vaguely. ‘It’s all a rich tapestry. Point is, you shall repay your boon to me by repaying her.’
“‘And how should I do that?’
“‘Sisternovice Sauvage wishes to learn the art of the blade.’
“‘Learn what?’
“‘The art. Of the blade. All that cutting and thrusting and whatnot.’ Astrid looked down to my hands, up to my eyes. ‘I have it on good authority you thrashed two initiates in the star today without so much as a scratch. And while I understand this is no Gauntlet, Chloe would like some pointers. Journeyman to novice, as it were.’
“‘But … she’s a girl.’
“Astrid looked at the little lass beside her, leaning in close to squint at Chloe’s chest.
“‘My God. You’re right.’
“‘I told you this was a foolish idea,’ Chloe hissed. ‘They don’t teach girls here.’
“‘Patience, ma chérie,’ Astrid murmured. ‘Our good initiate will eventually figure out that your breasts, whilst magnificent, aren’t any real impediment to combat prowess.’
“Chloe’s cheeks burned a furious red. ‘They actually do get in th—’
“‘Hush now, love,’ Astrid said, patting Chloe’s hand. ‘Here it comes.’
“‘You told the sisternovice what we’re looking for in here?’ I asked.
“‘Have no fear, Initiate. Chloe can keep a secret.’
“‘I can’t sneak out as easily as Azzie,’ Chloe declared. ‘My room is right next to the prioress. But one night a week, she keeps a vigil in the Priory chapel, and I can steal away.’
“‘… And you’re willing to help?’
“‘I’m not at all convinced the answers to daysdeath lie in this library. It’s through prayer and piety we shall regain the Lord’s love. Through his words,’ Chloe gestured to the shelves about us, ‘not these. But all this talk about a fifth bloodline is intriguing.’
“‘It’s as Mama always said, ma chérie,’ Astrid smiled. ‘When in a storm, the wise woman prays to God. But she also rows for shore.’ The sisternovice glanced to me. ‘Chloe can read old Talhostic. And Ancient Ossian. Which I cannot. So, for two hours a week, you will teach her the art of steel. And for the rest of the night, she will help us search. Agreed?’
“I was uneasy at this. I didn’t know Chloe Sauvage as far as I could spit her. But Astrid trusted her, and I did owe her a debt. I wasn’t a treacherous dog like de Coste. I dealt my cards straight and paid what I owed.
“‘We don’t have swords,’ I finally declared.
“‘See?’ Astrid smiled to Chloe. ‘A man of his word.’ Reaching into her cloak, the sisternovice produced two wooden training blades.
“‘Where did you get those?’ I asked.
“She waved vaguely. ‘All a rich tapestry.’
“I glanced about the room; the countless tomes, the illegible spines, the tangle of words that might contain the secret of what I was. I knew I’d struggle to read a quarter of it, and that the secrets of an ancient line would likely be written in an ancient tongue. So finally, I took the practice swords from Astrid’s hands with a scowl.
“‘Seems I’ve little choice.’
“‘I did warn you. I’m twice as crafty as the devil. So, you two had best get on with it. Cut. Thrust. Have at thee, villain. All that wonderful, sweaty nonsense.’
“‘… You don’t want to learn too?’
“‘Sweet Redeemer, no. I shall stay well out of the way and make appreciative noises while you try to bash each other’s skulls in. Leave war to the fucking warriors.’
“I moved the table and chairs, clearing us a space. Astrid retired to the windowsill, producing a stick of charcoal and a small sketchbook from her robes while I turned my gaze to Chloe. The lass was rolling up her sleeves, a blush on her freckled cheeks. She wore novice robes same as Astrid, but she was obviously ill at ease about being out of bed in the presence of a boy. She struck me as a quiet girl. Studious. Steady. And above all, devout.
“‘Why do you want to learn the sword, Sisternovice?’
“‘Not knowing how to use one is a good way to get killed by one, Initiate.’
“‘Good answer. Have you ever wielded a blade before?’
“‘I’ve studied it … in books. And I know I’m small. But I learn quickly.’
“I sighed. This maid was green as grass. But Astrid was right—the fact that Chloe was a girl was no reason she couldn’t swing a sword. Unarmed, a lass that small would get murdered in a fight, sure and true. But by their very nature, weapons are force multipliers. Equalizers. And so, I put the point of my sword under Chloe’s chin, and lifted her head.
“‘You are small. But skill with a weapon counts for far more than power. So. First lesson, Sisternovice. Always look your enemy in the eye.’
“Chloe met my stare. I saw a faint twinkle in her own. She clenched her jaw, lifted the practice sword. ‘Always look your ene
my in the eye.’
“We trained. Just basics. Shifting around the room while Astrid sketched by the tall stained-glass windows. By the end of our two hours, Chloe was dripping with sweat, and I was dry as dust. But the tiny girl’s eyes were alight, her smile bright as forgefire.
“‘He’s a very good teacher,’ Chloe whispered as Astrid rejoined us on the floor.
“‘I saw.’ Astrid kissed her sweaty cheek. ‘But you were also brilliant. A blade to match the Angel Eloise herself. Do you not think so, Initiate?’
“‘She was … excellent for a beginner.’
“Astrid glowered at me sidelong. ‘Such praise could make angels weep.’
“‘It’s all right, Azzie,’ Chloe smiled. ‘The Lord decrees we walk before we run.’
“‘And I’m sure you’ll be running circles about the good initiate soon, ma chérie.’
“I saw Chloe blush at Astrid’s praise, just as I had when we first met. Sisternovice Rennier’s charm could turn glaciers to puddles, sure and true. But still …
“‘Shall we get to it? We’ve only a few hours to dawn, Sisternovices.’
“‘Oui,’ Astrid nodded. ‘This gibberish won’t read itself, I fear.’
“I moved the table back into place, hefting it effortlessly. Running her eyes along the shelves, Chloe took down an ancient brass-bound tome, its spine carved in a language so alien it almost made my eyes ache. I sat at table, with Sisternovice Sauvage to my left. Placing her sketchbook in front of her, Astrid curled up in the leather chair to my right, a dusty scroll in her lap, candlelight on her skin.
“Glancing at her sketches, I saw she’d been drawing Chloe as we practiced. Astonished at how she could conjure such life from simple lines on a page.
“‘Beautiful work, Sisternovice,’ I murmured.
“Astrid shrugged, chewing a well-worn fingernail. ‘I was trained by the masters of the Golden Halls as a girl. I used to be quite good. Rubbish now, though.’
“Chloe scowled. ‘The prioress would never have apprenticed you if that were true.’
“‘It’s not like she has a choice,’ Astrid scoffed. ‘Charlotte’s eyes are failing. The old bitch needs to train replacements in inking the aegis while she may.’
“‘Astrid!’ Chloe gasped, making the sign of the wheel.
“‘What? She is an old bitch. Trust me. Takes a young bitch to spot one.’ Astrid gazed at her sketchbook, a faraway look in her dark eyes. Her face was a beautiful mask—the kind a mistress’s daughter would have learned to wear early in the Golden Halls. ‘When Mama insisted I be schooled in the arts, I’m not sure she imagined I’d be carving silver into halfbreed vampire boys’ skins before sending them off to die in the dark.’
“‘Well, they made a fine choice in you,’ I murmured, brushing fingertips over the lion beneath my tunic. ‘You’ve a keen eye and a keener hand, as Khalid said.’
“Astrid glanced at my chest. ‘You were my first, actually. I hope I didn’t hurt you.’
“‘Not too grim,’ I lied.
“She smiled at that, the beauty spot beside her mouth black as sin.
“‘A little pain never hurt anybody, eh?’
“Chloe looked back and forth between Astrid and me, lips pressed thin. And my belly thrilled then, goosebumps tingling as a thin line of blood spilled from Astrid’s nose. The scent of it stabbed the air, the flood of rust and copper rushing through my skull, into my chest, and then, lower still. As always, I’d taken the sacrament at duskmass to quiet my thirst. But I found myself averting my eyes, reaching into my leathers.
“‘Nose,’ I said, holding out my kerchief.
“‘Oh, fuck it all,’ Astrid hissed. Tilting her head back, she spoke, voice smothered by the kerchief. ‘Merci. It’ll stop in a minute.’
“I swallowed hard, pushing the thirst down, past my groin and into my boots where it belonged. Looking anywhere but at Astrid until she’d cleaned up that slick of brilliant, luscious red. I could feel Chloe’s stare, my teeth growing sharp, and for a moment, I felt horribly ashamed of what I was. The sin of my birth. My hunger. My nature. It was all well and good to be part of the silver flame burning between humanity and the darkness. But I could never allow myself to forget that darkness lived also in me.
“The three of us settled in the candlelight, and once the press of my thirst abated, I was struck with how pleasant it was simply to be still for a time. The last seven months, my life had been sweating, praying, hunting, bleeding. I never thought I’d find such peace in simple reading. The words were a kind of magic, taking me by the hand and sweeping me into lands unseen, times unremembered, thoughts unimagined. Through all my years in San Michon, all the blood and sweat and darkling roads I walked, I learned one of my greatest lessons sitting in that Library with those girls in the still of the night.
“A life without books is a life not lived.
“Still, I found myself stealing glances at Astrid when I could, the scent of her blood tingling on my skin. She read swift as a storm, chewing through whole tomes while I managed chapters. I realized for all her cursing and brashness, Astrid was just as fierce a scholar as I was a swordsman. A girl who wielded books like blades.
“She rose after an hour, fetching her golden pipe. Wordlessly, she mixed a blend of rêvre and traproot, tongue poked between her lips. I watched her breathe down that sweet smoke, and she seemed a statue in the dim light, carved by the hand of God.
“The God she’d soon be married to …
“‘My head hurts,’ Chloe murmured, rubbing her temples.
“‘Oui.’ I nodded, cracking my neck. ‘I’ve paleblood eyes, and still they’re aching in this candlelight. Almighty only knows how you’re both managing.’
“Astrid sighed grey out the window. ‘All this would be easier if we were allowed access to this drivel during daylight. Such as daylight is. But we’re both girls, and you’re an initiate, and none of those circumstances looks set to change anytime soon. So, I’m afraid we’re at the mercy of Archivist Adamo and his idiotic rules.’
“Chloe nodded and sighed. ‘What a world this would be, were it not held wholly and solely in the grip of stubborn old men.’
“Astrid scoffed. ‘Oui.’
“‘I venture it’s less to do with the fact they’re men,’ I said. ‘More that they’re old.’
“Astrid’s dark eyes flickered to mine. ‘You’d venture that, would you?’
“‘Oh dear…’ Chloe murmured.
“I shrugged. ‘Prioress Charlotte seems just as bad as Archivist Adamo.’
“‘A fine riposte,’ Astrid ceded. ‘But Prioress Charlotte is a product of Church indoctrination. And the Church is held wholly and solely in the grip of stubborn old men.’
“‘… You’re going to make a very strange nun, Astrid Rennier.’
“‘Honestly, look around you. You haven’t noticed there’s not a single woman in a position of real power in this monastery?’
“‘I had,’ I admitted. ‘But what about San Michon? She was a woman.’
“‘Don’t get me started on the pantheon. There’s Seven Holy Martyrs, Gabriel de León. And one dame among them. We’re half the fucking population, you know.’
“‘Well, what of the Mothermaid? She’s a woman. Second only to God Himself.’
“‘Oh, oui, the holy virgin.’ Astrid rolled her eyes. ‘Let me tell you, if the Almighty offered me the platter of shit that constitutes divine motherhood and yet denied me the pleasure of a good roll in the hay beforehand, I’d have told him to go fuck himself.’
“‘Astrid!’ Chloe gasped, making the sign of the wheel. ‘Blasphemy!’
“‘Oh, he knows I don’t mean it,’ she scoffed, glancing up. ‘He knows everything.’
“I was taken aback also, and not simply at the sisternovice’s sacrilege. To hear her talk so reminded me just how vast the gulf between us was. Astrid was half royalty. I was half monster. She was a child of the Golden Court. I was a brat from the provinces. But more
, and most, Astrid Rennier was a courtesan’s daughter. She’d likely seen and done things I could scarce imagine. Wonderful things. Wicked things. I lowered my gaze then. Chewed my lip. Astrid looked at me through coal-dark lashes.
“‘How old are you?’
“‘… My saintsday is in five days,’ I realized. ‘I’ll be sixteen.’
“‘Almost a man.’ She tilted her head. ‘And still I make him blush.’
“‘That mouth of yours could make a sailor blush, Astrid Rennier.’
“‘Good God Almighty…’ Chloe breathed.
“I glanced up at the awe and fear in the sisternovice’s voice, followed her eye line to the windows. Light flared in the dark outside, and for a terrible moment, I feared some discovery. But Astrid pushed the glass open, breathing a wondering sigh.
“Chloe and I clustered behind. And looking into the dark above, I beheld a sight I couldn’t recall seeing since I was a child. A sight none of us understood at the time. A sight that was to change my life, and the shape of this entire empire.
“A falling star.
“Its light was dim, and yet it must have burned with impossible fury to be seen through the daysdeath pall at all. I followed its path across the shadowed heavens, felt my skin prickling. Looking to Astrid beside me, I saw her smile, that falling radiance reflected in the bloodshot dark of her eyes, tracing a pale luminance down her cheek.
“‘Beautiful,’ we both whispered.
“She glanced to me, and I turned away, looking up to the dark above. Was this an omen? A portent of evil or harbinger of chaos? I didn’t know whether to pray or panic. Still, in the end, I was a peasant boy. Folklore about my village held that shooting stars were the spirits of new saints, ready to begin a life here on the earth. And so, I did what any lad from the Nordlund provinces would’ve done.”
Jean-François smiled, writing in his tome. “You made a wish.”
“That I did.”
“How quaint. What did you wish for?”