Empire of the Vampire

by Jay Kristoff

  “‘Can you hear me?’ Dior squeezed my hand, her eyes wild. ‘Gabriel?’

  “‘Fuck … m-my … f-f…’

  “I felt hands fumbling with my coat pockets, blinking up at the daysdeath light. I could taste my own blood, feel broken glass in my belly, heart thrashing on my ribs.

  “‘Here. Here, breathe…’

  “She pressed my pipe to my lips and the taste of sanctus washed over me, sweet and merciful red. I coughed, blood spattering on the frost, taking the pipe from Dior’s shaking hand and inhaling another lungful. I felt that accursed strength, the agony in my belly fading, able to breathe easier. I pressed my hand to my sundered gut, blood dribbling through my fingertips.

  “‘You…’ I squinted at Dior, my teeth sticky. ‘Y-you…’

  “‘It’s aright,’ she said. ‘I got you, Gabe. You’re safe.’

  “‘You … f-fucking … stabbed me.’

  “‘Wait … you’re getting tetchy with me now?’

  “‘Tetchy?’ I coughed, spitting red. ‘You stabbed me!’

  “‘It wasn’t my fault!’

  “‘You stabbed me accidently?’

  “‘No.’ She scowled, shrugging. ‘It was Ashdrinker’s idea.’

  “I glowered at the blade, now thrust into the snow at the girl’s side. ‘Was it now…’

  “‘I just grabbed her to break the ice,’ Dior said. ‘But the current had you. We needed to hold you still so you could punch free. So, she told me to … you know…’

  “The girl made a circle of her left forefinger and thumb. Poked her right index finger through it repeatedly. The silvered dame on the sword’s hilt smiled at me as always.

  “‘Bitch,’ I hissed.

  “Dior gave a sympathetic wince. ‘Does it hurt?’

  “‘You STABBED me!’

  “‘Fuckssakes, don’t be such a baby! There won’t even be a mark by the morrow. You know, most folk would spare a merci for the girl who just saved their lives, de León.’

  “The shock was fading now, the fear of almost drowning paling to a dull ebb. Surly prick that I was, I was still realizing this girl had indeed just saved my sorry arse, and the least I could do was refrain from acting a complete bell-end about it.

  “‘Merci,’ I scowled.

  “She pursed her lips, climbed to her feet and offered her hand. ‘Get up, old man.’

  “Dior hauled me upright as I gasped in agony. One hand to my bleeding gut, I blinked about in the dim light. ‘What happened to the wretched?’

  “The girl nodded to the shattered ice. ‘Went under. All three. Didn’t make a sound.’ She shook her head, horrified. ‘But it was like they just … melted.’

  “‘And what about—’

  “I heard heavy hooves, crunching in crisp snow. Dragging the hair from my eyes with a bloody hand, I saw Jezebel plodding up the frozen bank toward us, a little water-logged, a little shaken, but apparently none the worse for wear.

  “‘God’s truth,’ I sighed. ‘You are the luckiest bitch I ever met.’

  “Dior met my eyes, the thought occurring to her just as it did to me.

  “‘That’s it!’ she cried.

  “‘That’s it…’ I nodded.

  “I limped to the mare’s side, scruffing her ear with one bloody hand as Dior threw her arms around her neck.

  “‘Fortuna.’”

  XI

  NIGHT AND KNIVES

  “ONE DEGREE IS the difference between fluid and solid. The divergence between water and ice. But those who’ve grown up in the coldest places will know the shift that comes with wintersdeep, and the way we who live through it, shift with it. Dim days grow dimmer still, bleak nights bring bleaker thoughts. And as the landscape about you changes, so does the limit of your spirit. The dark weighs heavier when your cloak is soaked with melted snow. Laughter is best avoided when your beard is so caked with frost that it hurts to smile. Spring blooms, and autumn rusts. But winter?

  “Winter bites.

  “We’d entered the northern weald ten days past, and all was night and knives. Growths of maryswort lit the dark with ghostly blue luminance. Beggarbelly pustules and jagged runs of shadespine covered every surface. I was a knot of nerves, all of me on edge as I led Dior and Fortuna through the twisted wood.

  “The deeper we trekked, the harder this twist of fate struck me—that I of all people would end up guiding this girl to safety, and that the salvation of the empire had somehow fallen into my hands, so many years after that empire turned its back on me. I didn’t know the truth of Dior’s blood, how it might bring all this to an end. I knew only that I wanted to keep her safe. And so, I barely slept, sitting with Ashdrinker in hand at nights, keeping vigil over Dior as she dreamed. Every snapping twig quickened my pulse. Eyes flickered like candles in the gloom, winking out as I looked at them. Footprints would be etched in the snow around our fire when we rose in the morn—wolves, maybe, save the tracks had too many toes and smelled of rot and sulfur.

  “On the eleventh day, we found a clearing, an ancient tree in its heart. Its limbs were hung with sculptures made of twigs … and with dead bodies, some almost fresh. The other trees were bent toward it, branches pressed together like penitent hands, asphyxia growths hanging like curtains of hair about bowed heads. Voices pleaded at the edge of hearing. I swear that tree whispered to me as we passed. Saoirse had warned that the Blight in the north was far worse than the south. But in truth, she’d not told the half of it.

  “Dior looked about and shivered. ‘And you wonder why I never left the city.’

  “‘No,’ I replied. ‘No, I really don’t.’

  “‘I don’t think we should’ve come this way.’

  “‘Well, don’t blame me,’ I hissed.

  “‘And why not?’

  “‘Because … I’d rather you didn’t?’

  “A stunning riposte.

  “I glowered at the sword in my hand. ‘Bitch, you stabbed me. I’d be laying off the lip for a few more days if I were you.’

  “Apology I gave ye. What m-m-more wouldst thou ask?

  “‘How about never fucking do that again?’

  “This … I c-c-cannot vow.

  “‘Can you smell that?’ Dior asked.

  “I lifted my nose to the wind, nodded once.

  “‘Death.’

  “We stopped for the night, tied Fortuna to a tree that looked like a weeping woman, arms up over her face. The sky was black as sin, the snow coming down relentless, wind howling all about us through the twisted boughs, the creaking branches, the tombs of kings that had once ruled this place when all was green and good.

  “After a cheerless meal, I smoked a red pipe while we sat and shivered. All the night was alive, all my senses ablaze. I caught notes of decay entwined with a dozen breeds of fungus, thin embers of strange animal life, Dior’s blood. But beneath, faint as whispers …

  “‘You should get some rest,’ I said. ‘I’ll wake you when it’s time for your watch.’

  “‘You promise?’ she scowled. ‘Because you didn’t last night.’

  “‘You needed the sleep. Being the savior of the empire is hard work.’

  “Dior scoffed. ‘Savior…’

  “The girl sucked her lip, blue eyes glazed as she watched the crackling flames.

  “‘You really think it’s going to be like Chloe said? Just show up at San Michon, mumble some phrase from some dusty book, and huzzah, au revoir daysdeath?’

  “‘I’ve no idea,’ I sighed. ‘But someone less cynical than me would point out you must be some kind of threat, else the Forever King wouldn’t have his son chasing you.’

  “‘Nor that bitch with the mask you fought at San Guillaume.’ Dior chewed a ragged nail, spat it into the fire. ‘She seemed to know something.’

  “I nodded, remembering Liathe and her bloodblade, that pale mask and the paler eyes beyond. Sanguimancers. Vampires of ancien blood. Mysteries within mysteries, as ever. I looked down at the sevenstar on my palm, the
veins beneath my skin.

  “‘It could all be lies. Maybe everyone playing this game is a fool. We’ll learn the truth when we get to San Michon, I suppose. There’s deceit and madness aplenty in that library. But there are truths too. Astrid and I found a few. When we were young.’

  “‘Esani,’ Dior murmured.

  “I glowered at the sword on the frost beside me. ‘You talk too much, Ash.’

  “‘I think she gets lonely,’ Dior smiled. ‘Stuck in that scabbard all day.’

  “‘My heart bleeds.’ I flicked snow at the silvered dame. ‘Along with my stomach.’

  “‘It can’t be coincidence, though, can it? A fifth bloodline, with almost the exact same name as Michon’s daughter? Esan. Faith. Esani. Faithless.’

  “‘I don’t know, Dior. We looked for years in that library, Astrid and Chloe and me. We found mostly nonsense. There’s power in my blood, and I’ve learned a trick or two. If I ever get my hands on Danton’s throat while I’m at my best, he’s in for a reckoning. But truth is, my bloodline never made much difference to the way I lived my life. Astrid used to tell me that was what made her proudest. Raised among those Dyvoks and Chastains and Ilons, and I stood tallest of all.’ I tapped the veins at my wrist. ‘Not because of this.’

  “I thumped a fist over my chest.

  “‘Because of this.’

  “‘Aim your heart at the world,’ she smiled.

  “I nodded. ‘One day as a lion is worth ten thousand as a lamb.’

  “Dior lay down by the fireside, cloak beneath, fine coat draped over her. A mop of ashen white covering eyes that were the blue of long-lost skies. Scrawny shoulders and clever hands and the blood of a dead fucking godling in her veins.

  “‘Tell me about your daughter,’ she murmured.

  “‘Go to sleep, Lachance.’

  “‘I will.’ She smiled, eyes closed. ‘But I like your voice. It’s smoky. Relaxing.’

  “I looked at the name tattooed across my fingers. Drawing down another draught and exhaling a plume of scarlet. ‘What do you want to know?’

  “‘Anything. What’s her favorite color?’

  “‘Blue. The water around our house was almost blue some days.’

  “‘You live on a river?’

  “I shook my head. ‘Lighthouse. Just off the southern coast. Tide came in with the moons, covered the bridge to land. So nothing could cross over at night.’

  “‘Clever.’

  “‘I have my moments.’

  “‘Does she like it there?’

  “‘I hope so. It’s south. Down past Alethe. Sometimes we got flowers in spring.’

  “‘I’ve never seen a flower,’ Dior sighed. ‘What’s her favorite?’

  “I could smell it stronger now—that scent Dior had caught on the wind. Truth told, it had been following us all day. Like a shadow. Like a ghost. I looked to the dark beyond the firelight and saw it—a shape I knew as well as my own name, silhouetted against the corpses of fallen trees, dead emperors moldering in frozen tombs.

  “‘Gabe?’ Dior asked.

  “‘What?’

  “‘What’s Patience’s favorite flower?’

  “‘Silverbell. Like her mother.’

  “‘You must miss them.’

  “I shook my head. ‘I’ll be back with them soon.’

  “‘I’m sorry,’ she sighed. ‘That I took you away from them.’

  “‘No more questions, girl. Go to sleep.’

  “Dior curled up in her coat, face toward the flames. And I sat there in the cold, watching the eyes that were watching me. I could see her more clearly now; no longer a dark shadow, but a pale one, porcelain skin draped with bolts of black hair, soft as silk and thick as smoke. She said nothing, just waiting until the breath of the girl beside me slowed and smoothed, breast rising and falling in the peaceful cadence of sleep.

  “The shape drifted back, deeper into the shadow.

  “And I stood, following into the dark.”

  XII

  EVERYTHING FALLING APART

  “SHE STRUCK ME from behind, slammed me into the skin of a crumbling oak, perhaps fifty yards from the fire. The light was still bright enough to catch in the black flint of her eyes, her strength as bleak as the storm above. And she crushed her lips to mine, and I could feel the razors in her mouth as she snarled like a wolf and pressed herself naked against me.

  “‘My lion,’ she whispered.

  “She bit my lip, cold hands at the buttons of my greatcoat, at my tunic now, slipping up inside and running her fingers over the muscle and ink beneath. She hissed softly, cold hands burning on silver ink, fingernails digging into my skin.

  “‘You’ll hurt yourself,’ I whispered.

  “‘A little pain never hurt anyone,’ she breathed.

  “My hair tumbled about her cheeks as she kissed me again, like the sun once kissed the silverbell that grew around our home. She brushed burning lips across the ink at my throat, my chest, fingernails drifting to my belt and dragging the buckle free as she sank slow, ever so slow to her knees.

  “‘Stop,’ I begged. ‘Please.’

  “She looked up, pupils so wide with hunger her eyes were black. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  “‘And I you,’ I whispered, heart breaking. ‘More than anything.’

  “She kissed me through my leathers, root to aching crown, and as she pulled my britches lower, the want in me was so real I felt my knees buckle.

  “‘Just a little,’ she pleaded.

  “‘I can’t.’

  “‘Just a mouthful, love.’

  “‘I can’t.’

  “She hissed, dark and shivering, rearing back like a serpent. I had to close my eyes against the sight of her anger, the break too close to the surface.

  “I never wanted any of this.

  “When I opened my eyes, she was standing off in the dark, slender arms folded, the storm wind blowing long locks around her. God in heaven, she was beautiful. It was all I could do to stop myself from sinking to my knees, to plead, to pray. Everything fading. Everything falling apart.

  “‘I love you,’ I told her.

  “‘If that were true, you wouldn’t tell me no.’

  “‘Astrid … please … I need my strength.’

  “Black eyes flickered to the distant fire. ‘For her.’

  “‘She has no one else.’

  “‘She’s not your daughter. She’s not your famille.’

  “‘I know that!’

  “‘Do you?’ She glanced to me, a strand of long black hair caught at the edge of her lips. ‘You’re coming apart, love. You’ve given too much of yourself to this already, and you’re still nowhere close. You’re forgetting why you left us, Gabriel.’

  “‘No,’ I replied, voice like iron. ‘I remember.’

  “She turned to face me, and I could see bloody tears in her lashes. ‘You’re headed to a place I can’t follow. I don’t want you to go.’

  “‘Dior will be safe in San Michon. And next time Danton comes, I’ll be ready, I’ll—’

  “‘That girl isn’t why you came here. Why you left Patience. Why you left me.’

  “My hands curled into fists. ‘I know why I came here. I don’t need you to remind me. I see it every time I close my fucking eyes!’

  “‘Please don’t be angry,’ she whispered.

  “I hung my head, shutting my eyes against the burning tears, her whisper the only sound in the dark. ‘Tell me you love me.’

  “‘Of course I do.’

  “‘Promise you’ll never leave me.’

  “‘How could I?’ I sank to my haunches, head in my hands. ‘You’re all I ever wanted. The two of you … you were the pieces I never knew were missing. You—’

  “‘Gabe?’

  “I opened my eyes, saw Dior standing in the dark, staring at me. She looked frightened, cold, that fine frockcoat dusted with snow. Ashdrinker was unsheathed in her hands, dark starsteel gleaming in the light of the distant flames.<
br />
  “‘I heard you shouting. Were you talking to someone?’

  “A glance told me Astrid was gone; a wraith vanished into the gloom.

  “‘Myself,’ I replied, rising to my feet and buckling my belt. ‘Just myself.’

  “‘You’re bleeding,’ she said, pointing to her lip.

  “I licked at the scratch, the blood, my fangs still long and sharp in my gums. ‘It’s nothing. You shouldn’t be away from the fire. It’s freezing out here.’

  “I grabbed her hand, dragging her along beside me.

  “‘Are you aright?’ she asked.

  “‘I’m fine. Just … don’t leave the light again. It’s dangerous.’

  “‘Gabriel, I’m worried about you.’

  “‘Stop fretting on me, girl.’ I snatched Ashdrinker from her hand with a snarl. ‘And give me that bloody sword. You’ve no ken how to fucking use it, anyway.’

  “What is thy game, Gabriel?

  “‘Shut up, Ash.’

  “Thy threads unraveling. Thy knots undone. Long years did we face the d-dark together, and I tell thee true, tell thee true, I am sorry for my part in it. But at the end of this road lies madn—

  “I sheathed the blade, silencing her voice. Dior stared at me as we made it back to the circle of the flames. I crouched close to the crackling heat, shivering, licking at the bite on my lip. The girl stood opposite, hands folded inside her fine-cut sleeves.

  “‘You know … you could teach me,’ she murmured. ‘If you were so worried.’

  “I glanced up, meeting bright blue eyes. ‘Teach you what?’

  “She waved at Ashdrinker, risking a small smile. ‘How to use a sword?’

  “‘I don’t think so.’

  “Her smile dimmed. ‘Why not? I can handle a knife.’

  “‘Because a blade and half a clue are more dangerous than no blade or clue at all.’

  “‘Gabriel, listen to me—’

  “‘No. It only encourages you.’

  “‘Enough people have already died on my account,’ she snapped. ‘I don’t want other people fighting my battles for me.’