Empire of the Vampire

by Jay Kristoff

  “‘Practice for what?’

  “‘At root, dancing and swordplay are one and the same.’

  “Dior blinked as slow realization dawned. She glanced down to Ashdrinker on my hip, and she whooped, planting a swift kiss on my cheek.

  “‘You’re a good man, Gabriel de León.’

  “‘I’m a bastard is what I am. I’m just your kind of bastard.’

  “We stepped out onto the floor together, fumbling through our first steps, the room about us awhirl. And though she was three cups in, still Dior followed with an innate rhythm that told me she might one day be a fine sort of blade. She trod on my feet a few times, of course, but her laughter was brighter than the music around us, and to see her happy made me happy in turn. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed as hard as I did that night, and for a while, it was enough. But the whole time, it was growing in me—a shadowed melancholy that deepened with every cup I snatched from a passing tray, every burning mouthful I swallowed in my quest to drown it.

  “And so it was, when Baptiste returned and asked Dior to dance again, I gratefully made my escape. I’d had too much by then, and I knew with a few more, I’d be stumbling. The smiling faces about me seemed like death masques now, the music a dirge, and as the minstrels broke into a merry jig and all the crowd began stamping in time, I realized there was nowhere on earth I wanted less to be. Dior howled as she twirled arm in arm with Baptiste, spinning and stumbling through the throng, and I snatched a bottle from a table and pushed through the great wooden doors, out into the lonely chill.

  “The wind made my eyes water as I trudged the cobbled path, shoulders hunched for warmth. I knew where I was headed, walking without thought, tugging another swallow from the bottle as it rose up before me like a lodestone. I could see candlelight through stained glass, smell the votive incense, hear echoes of the mass long sung.

  “The Chapel of Aveléne.

  “It was a tiny affair, nothing so grand as the Cathedral of San Michon. Still, it had seemed a palace not so long ago. And as I stepped inside that wintersdeep night, I saw myself as I’d been all those years past. Walking on colt’s legs through the dawndoors, Aaron at my side, down to the altar and the angel waiting there. She’d stood in a beam of dimmest daylight, hands over her belly, and I know it sounds cliché, but she’d been aglow with it. The Order had cast us out like bones and chaff, and I should’ve been ashamed. But walking to Astrid’s side that day, promising to be with her forever, I knew only love. Purest love.

  “I stood now in that empty church more than a decade later, and all was cold and silent. A wheel of rowan wood still hung above the altar, a carving of the Redeemer lashed upon it, spinning gently in the wind as the door creaked open behind me. I took another pull from the bottle, swaying on my feet. I knew I’d be a sorry bastard come the morrow.

  “‘Fairdawning, Aaron,’ I called.

  “‘Godmorrow, brother,’ he replied.

  “I could feel him standing beside me now, as he’d done on that happiest of days, carrying the troth rings Baptiste had forged with his own hands. I offered Aaron the bottle, and he took it, drinking from the neck. We stood side by side, and I stared up at the wheel spinning over our heads, slowly shaking mine.

  “‘Did that ever strike you as odd?’

  “‘I’m not sure what you mean.’

  “‘The wheel.’ I nodded to it. ‘Why they chose that as the symbol for the One Faith.’

  “‘It’s a symbol of the Redeemer’s sacrifice. The offering that laid the foundation for his church on this earth, and our salvation. By this blood, shall they have life eternal.’

  “‘But doesn’t it strike you as a little morbid? Seems to me maybe they should’ve found something that celebrated the days he lived. The words he said. Instead, the symbol of his church is the thing that killed him.’ I shook my head. ‘Always struck me as strange.’

  “Aaron handed me back the bottle. ‘Are you aright, Gabe?’

  “I looked at him then. My friend. My brother. I’d never visited the ruins of Coste, but I’d heard the tales of what Voss had done to the city after he crossed the Bay of Tears. I’d always wondered if Aaron wished he’d been there. Falling into ruin along with his famille before the advance of the Forever King. And I sighed, staring up at the Redeemer again.

  “‘How can you still pray to this bastard, Aaron?’

  “‘He is my God. All I have, I owe to him.’

  “‘All you have?’ I scoffed. ‘They took everything from you. They cast you out of the order you’d devoted your life to. You stood in defense of this empire and his Church, and the men of both were set to flay the skin off your back for who you loved. Because of a few words in some dusty fucking book. All you are is what God made you to be, and yet they turned on you for it. How can you pray to him after that?’

  “‘It’s as you said, brother. It was men who did that to Baptiste and me. Not God.’

  “‘But he allowed it to happen. All on earth below and hea’en above is the work of my hand. And all the work of my hand is in accord with my plan.’

  “Aaron gazed at the Redeemer above us, shaking his head.

  “‘You’re looking at it wrong, Gabe,’ he sighed. ‘God may have sent the storm, but he gave me arms to swim for shore. He might bring the winter snows, but he gave us hands to light the flame. You see the suffering all around you but not the joy right beside you, and you curse him for the worst but don’t thank him for the best. What the hell do you want from him?’ Aaron looked to me, searching my eyes. ‘If Baptiste and I had never been cast out of the Order, we’d not have been here all those years ago when you and Astrid came pounding on our gate. And I’d not have been standing here beside you when you swore your love for that woman, nor had the chance to see you weep as you held that baby girl in your arms. If we’d stayed in San Michon, we’d not have been here to answer when you and Dior came stumbling in out of the snow today. And if that girl is the answer to ending all this suffering, isn’t my suffering worth that?’

  “‘You’re telling me there was no other way to get Dior where she needed to be?’

  “‘I’m telling you I’ve made my peace with him. You only appreciate the sunshine after you’ve stood in the pouring rain. Everything happens for a reason, Gabe.’

  “‘Bullshit!’ I spat, rage rising. ‘This isn’t about reason, it’s about retribution, Aaron! He sets you up to fail, and when you break his damned rules, he punishes you for it. He makes you want, and when you take, he takes it all away. What kind of sick fuck does that?’

  “‘Such is the price of sin, Gabe.’

  “‘If it’s sin, how can goodness come of it? And who’d let that goodness flower a moment only to tear it out of the earth? A sadist! A blacksmith who blames his own blade! What kind of bastard punishes the people you love in order to punish you?’

  “I flung the bottle, the glass shattering on the Redeemer’s wheel. One of the stays came loose, and the wheel dropped, twisting lopsided as I spat in fury.

  “‘No fucking brother of mine!’

  “Aaron looked at me carefully, a scowl on that handsome brow. ‘Are we talking about me and Baptiste now? Or are we talking about you?’

  “I made no reply, staring at that holy fool spinning above us.

  “‘… Where are Astrid and Patience, Gabriel?’

  “‘Waiting for me.’

  “‘At home?’

  “‘Where else would they be?’

  “‘If they’re at home, why are you here?’

  “‘I know a king who needs killing.’

  “‘… Voss?’

  “‘Voss,’ I hissed, the name like poison on my tongue. ‘Once Dior is in San Michon, I head east to take that whoreson’s head. To end this once and for all.’

  “Aaron stepped between me and the wheel so that I’d be forced to meet his eyes. ‘Gabe, Fabién Voss sits at the heart of a legion ten thousand strong. The greatest armies and generals in the empire have fallen bac
k or simply fallen before him. No man of woman born can slay the Forever King. You know this. It’s madness. It’s suicide even to try.’

  “‘And yet, here I am.’

  “‘… Is that what you want? To die? What about your famille?’ He reached for my arm, seizing tight. ‘Gabriel, look at me. Where are they? Why did you leave them?’

  “‘Let it alone, brother,’ I growled.

  “‘Gabe—’

  “‘Let it alone!’ I bellowed, slapping his hand away. Grabbing his coat, I slammed him against the altar, my face inches from his. ‘You want to huddle here in your crumbling halls until the end comes, so be it! You want to waste your life praying to a God who doesn’t care, as you like it! But I’ll not hide in the dark for fear of sleep, nor sing the praise of a bastard who’d call himself Lord of an earth such as this! By my hand, Fabién Voss will die! By my blood, by my soul—not by your fucking God—I vow it!’

  “‘I love you, Gabriel,’ Aaron said low, deadly. ‘But take your hands off me.’

  “That predator’s gleam, that old gift of the Ilon stirring in his veins. Paleblood, through and through. And I let him go, ashamed at myself, at all I was and had become. I couldn’t bear to look at him, staring at my hands instead as I whispered.

  “‘Forgive me.’

  “‘Brother, there is nothing to forgive,’ he said, putting his hand on my shoulder. ‘I know you speak from hurt, and though I fear the cause, I’ll not add to it by asking for its name. I’ll not tell you what to believe, either. Each man’s heart is his own, and in the end, only he has the filling of it. But I tell you this, and if never you have listened to me before, by all the love you bear for me, I beg you listen now. Because I see a shadow on you, brother. And I am afraid.’

  “He took my hand, squeezing tight as he searched my eyes.

  “‘It matters not what you hold faith in. But you must hold faith in something.’

  “I met his gaze, the truth fighting behind my teeth.

  “To speak it would make it real.

  “To speak it would be to live it again.

  “‘The Worst Day,’ I whispered.

  “A chill clanging split the air, brittle and sharp, metal on metal. The spell between us broke, Aaron’s pupils dilating as the song grew more fevered. And through the rushing in my ears, the echo of my brother’s words, I realized at last what I was hearing.

  “Aaron looked to me, jaw clenched. ‘Alarm bells.’

  “I glanced to the Redeemer hanging on his lopsided wheel, and then to the night awaiting us outside. Hissing through sharpening teeth.

  “‘Danton.’”

  XVI

  LORD OF CARRION

  “THE GREAT HALL was emptying as Aaron and I rushed from the chapel. The merrymakers, the minstrels, young and old—all were making their way through the torchlit dark to the château gates. I saw Baptiste among the throng, and Aaron and I pushed our way to his side. Men and women were gathering arms, the bells still ringing on the outer walls, a great multitude now trekking down the winding road to the mont’s base. I looked for Dior among them, even calling her name, but I couldn’t see her anywhere.

  “We reached the outer walls of Aveléne, and I followed Aaron up onto the battlements. The bells ceased their ringing as he and Baptiste arrived. Watchmen saluted the pair briskly, nodding, ‘Capitaine.’ I could see their loyalty to Aaron was fierce and true, that they loved him to a man, no matter who he loved in his turn. But I could also feel a sliver of fear among them. And squinting through the bitter-bleak snows to the edge of the torchlight off Aveléne’s walls, I could find no way to fault them.

  “The Beast of Vellene stood in the road. He was clothed all in black, his duelist’s cloak whipping about him in a wind that seemed to moan all the louder as it touched him. His eyes were darker than the night above, his skin so pale it gleamed like pearl. Any who looked on him, prince or pauper or poet, would know him for what he was: a lord of carrion, heavy with centuries, crowned with menace and malice. And the sight of him cleaved all but the boldest heart with despair.

  “Danton stepped forward, his flint-black gaze roaming the walls. Men quailed as he looked upon them, women trembled, the chill of him like a knife in their minds. His eyes fell on me, and a smile, cold and pale and sharp, curled his ruby lips.

  “‘Where be the lord of this … hovel?’ he asked. ‘I would treat with him.’

  “Aaron stepped forward, golden hair blowing in the wind. ‘I am he.’

  “Danton’s gaze fell on my friend, and I saw Aaron grit his teeth, fangs bared. I felt the air crackling between them; a battle of wills, ancien versus paleblood born. And at the last, I saw Danton’s smile grow sour.

  “‘Who art thou, mortal?’

  “Aaron took off his glove, held up the sevenstar on his palm, now burning with a pale and fierce light. ‘A mortal, oui,’ he answered. ‘But no mortal’s son. My name is Aaron de Coste, son of House Coste and the Blood Ilon, and my mind is not yours for the plundering. I have been slaying your kind since I was but a boy, and I am a boy no longer. Now speak your piece and be done, vampire. My dinner is getting cold.’

  “‘De Coste?’ Danton gave a small bow. ‘Well met, monsieur. ’Tis rare to find folk of breeding so far west these nights. Please accept my condolences upon the fall of thy home, thy famille, thy legacy entire.’

  “‘This is my famille,’ Aaron said, waving to folk on the walls. ‘And my home. You come to its gate with empty hands and liar’s tongue. What do you want, Voss?’

  “‘Dior Lachance.’

  “‘Then I fear you’ve come a long way for a longer wait.’ Aaron placed one hand on the hilt of his sword. ‘Like all within these walls, the girl is under my protection.’

  “‘Girl?’ Realization dawned, and a flicker of dark delight glittered in Danton’s eyes as he glanced at me. ‘Oh, de León, thou art not destined to lose an—’

  “‘Speak not to him,’ Aaron spat. ‘You treat with me. If you call this display of beggary treating, that is.’

  “‘Beggar thou wouldst name me?’

  “‘Beggar?’ Aaron shook his head. ‘No. Louse, I name you. Worm. Leech. A parasite, grown fat and foolish enough to stand alone before my walls and beg anything of me. I was there at the Twins the day your sister died, Voss. I heard the music of her screams. And I’ve a will now, to see if I can make you sing as sweet.’

  “Aaron drew his sword—that same beautiful silversteel blade he’d carried through his apprenticeship in San Michon, the Angel Mahné on the hilt, blessed scripture down the blade. Beside him, Baptiste hefted his silversteel warhammer, and all around him, the men and women of Aveléne drew steel, set arrow to torch, raised wheellock guns.

  “‘Be off, maggot,’ Aaron growled. ‘Afore I set my dogs on you.’

  “Danton smiled, bleak and empty.

  “‘Call thy dogs,’ he said. ‘They can feast upon thy corpses.’

  “The dark behind Danton moved, and I felt my belly turn. I saw them coalescing from the snows behind the Beast, like darker shadows in his wake. Cold skin and colder hearts. Faces white as bone and beautiful as a dreamless sleep, clothed in all night’s raiment. Their eyes were keen and merciless, and they wore fear like cloaks, the terror of them washing over the walls in a fog. A tall, dead-eyed brute. A slender woman with wheat-gold hair and blood-red eyes. A boy, not more than ten when he died. Near a dozen in total, called by the Beast from across the Nordlund no doubt—children, grandchildren, cousins. Ironhearts, all.

  “‘Highbloods,’ Baptiste breathed.

  “Behind them came a rabble. Rotten and hollow-eyed. A multitude of wretched, slaved to the highbloods’ will. More than I’d seen since my days of silver. There were soldiers among them, clad in the Emperor’s colors—the remnants of cadres and cohorts slain in the wars. But there were plain folk too, men and women, children and elders, all dragged away from the bright shores of heaven and back to this hell on earth.

  “Hundreds upon hundreds of
them.

  “‘Such a force…’ someone whispered.

  “Danton stood now in the falling snows, his dark majesty unveiled. He seemed to swell in stature; once a single shadow at the edge of the torchlight, now the vanguard of a darkness set to swallow that light whole. His gaze roamed the walls, slow, piercing, those men and women who had but a moment ago stood fierce and tall as their capitaine roared like a lion. But now, as those eyes fell upon them, as the dark mind behind them pierced their own, every one quavered at the horror of him.

  “‘I see thee all. I know thy hearts. I know thy sins.’ Danton’s eyes drifted back to Aaron, glittering and hard. ‘But more, I know thy strength. There is no preparation beyond those walls now hidden from me. If thou wouldst stand against me, Aaron de Coste, thou shalt fall. As the city of thy forebears did. As thy once noble line did. And for the vengeance of my sister beloved, I shall mete like suffering from thee. I shall slay thy flock, one and all. I shall make their children watch as I feed them to the teeth behind me. I shall make castrati of their sons, I shall gut their parents like hogs, I shall build mountains of their babies’ bones. But their daughters…’

  “He looked to the wall once more, to the folk who stood shivering in his chill.

  “‘Them, I shall loose into the snow and the dark. One by one. And when I find them, each agony they endure shall upon thy heads be. I shall make thy daughters bleed, Aveléne. I shall gift them a suffering from which God and angels shall avert their gaze. Or…’

  “The shadow around Danton diminished, his smile returned, sly and red.

  “‘Or, thou canst give me what I seek. One little girl seems not so small a price? One tiny life, for the life of every man, woman, and child beyond those walls? For in the end, what is Dior Lachance to thee, Aveléne? Save a noose about thy neck, tightening?’

  “I heard a commotion, a murmuring along the battlements. And looking behind us, down to the cobbles below, I saw Dior now standing in the street. The stares of the city’s folk were fixed upon her, pale and slender, all alone among them. But she stood with eyes on the gates, listening to the voice beyond.