by Jamie Ott
They shoved glasses of schnapps in their hands, and toasted to the witching hour.
That night, he walked her back to the lodge.
"Stop," he said.
She looked at him, looking around.
"You sense someone, too?"
Slowly, he turned around, looking at the sky and the buildings.
"Are you being followed?"
"I don't know. After you left, I inspected part of the mountain. Since then, it feels like someone is behind me."
"Come out, now!" he said.
When nothing happened, he put his around her shoulders and guided her toward the lodge.
The next morning, Emil knocked on her door.
She invited him.
"Where are you going, now?"
"To the mountain, of course."
"Don't you want breakfast?"
"Emil, this is important. Why do I feel like you're trying to dissuade me for reasons other than my safety?"
"Starr, I don't want you to get hurt."
When she refused to go home, he said, "Fine, but I'm coming with you."
Flight Condemned
Chapter 4
For hours, Starr held Emil's hand as she circled the mountain. He was still a young fledgling; he hadn't come into flying yet.
By the early evening, Starr had had enough.
She couldn't sense anything about the peak, from the air. She didn't know if it was the cold, distracting her animal instinct, but she hadn't a clue of which direction to fly. Heck, she didn't even know if they were on the right side of the mountain.
It became apparent that she couldn't make the journey by flight instinct alone.
Finally, she lowered them onto a peak that was many thousands of feet higher than Grindewald. Emil tried to talk her into going back to the lodge to rest, but she couldn't stop.
She trudged up the peak, facing the daggers of wind and snow that tried to blow them back down the mountain.
They hiked well into the night; Emil complained nearly the entire way.
Starr wasn't ready to camp until midnight. They'd reached a leveled off inclined with a rock cliff that provided shelter from the down draft.
Emil hunkered down with his back against the rock while Starr flew off and gathered some wood that was, amazingly, pretty dry.
Staring at it and concentrating, she ignited a small fire.
As she zoned out, looking into the flames, she felt distracted. She looked around, again.
Emil stood up and shouted, "Who are you? Come out, now!"
But no one answered.
"The fire isn't doing any good. My muscles are so stiff."
"Look, if you want to go back, then fine, but I can't take you. I need to keep going."
"And let you alone out here? What kind of guy would I be?"
They agreed to take turns sleeping. Emil had pointed out that if they both did so at the same time - and they froze like ice cubes, they might not wake up until spring.
The sound of breaking limbs woke Starr, the next morning.
Emil had gathered more wood and was breaking it down and shoving it into his backpack.
Immediately, they set to hiking up the mountain again.
After about an hour, they came upon an icy slope. Starr was about to lean forward, and climb up on all fours, but Emil stopped her.
"What is it?"
"This slope is an avalanche waiting to happen," he said sounding annoyed.
She grabbed his hand and levitated them up, past the ice and landed on another peak.
At that point, the temperatures really dropped, and their limbs became especially stiff. Each step took great effort, and each step required yanking their legs out of the snow, which only exhausted more of their energy.
Only stopping for a break, they continued on and on, miserably.
At the top of another incline, they looked down, and it was just like out of book or movie. They were thousands and thousands of feet above the biosphere, where most people lived.
It was a breathtaking view.
That night as they sat close to another fire, they heard a loud Earth shattering crunch that echoed all around them, vibrating through Starr's very bones.
Emil stood up fast, a look of distorted fear on his face.
"Come on, let's go! Get us out of here!"
He grabbed her hand and pulled her up.
"FLY!!!! NOW!!!"
"What, why? I'm tired!"
But her moment of hesitation cost them both.
The mountain rumbled, and the snow came down on them.
Before she knew it, she was tumbling back down the mountain.
She felt herself zoom off a cliff, and free fall for many feet, before crunching into the ground.
Pounds of snow crunched her into the snow-ground, packing and burying her in, deeply.
She screamed through her teeth, the weight crushed down on her body, making it stiff and shrivel.
Starr cried and prayed that it would stop. But more and more snow weighted her down.
When it finally stopped, she tried to move but couldn't.
She couldn't even open her mouth to scream.
Starr tried to command the snow to move outward and off her. Unfortunately, she was always a terrible telepath and telekinetic.
Again, she felt the strange presence of someone nearby. She cried for the person to help her, but whoever it was simply went away.
Starr cried herself to sleep.
Vision
Chapter 5
"No," she cried out, but he was there, forcing her to see him.
Lucenzo sat on the cozy pouf with his long red hair and blazing eyes. As usual, he was stuck in the room with the gold prison bars.
"Stop resisting me, Starr. You've only a little time left."
"For what?"
"To save yourself."
"No, I'm done! I'm buried in an avalanche."
"Who do you think is responsible for that?"
When she gasped, he said, "Louisa is coming for you, soon."
He stood up and walked to his tiny cell window and looked out at the sky.
"Now that you're closer to connect with me, I will tell you everything."
He turned around with a look of contemplation on his face.
"We haven't much time, so I'm gonna tell it to you quickly. Ask me no questions, and do not interrupt me.
The Primordial blood, or vampire virus to you, was spread to mortals because they were dying out.
After the first couple conversions of humans to vampires were made, it was obvious that it was killing them, and turning them into something else.
They wanted to experiment. So they brought humans in by the hundreds. They'd put them down here, in these very dungeons.
Some, they'd try to convert without the nasty side effects of needing to drink blood. Needless to say, it didn't work.
We are two different species. We can't breed with humans, and we cannot share blood. Only a few people were able to conceive, together, but it is unlikely that such connections will ever happen again.
After a while, they gave up. They were prepared to make the ultimate sacrifice, and accept blood drinking half breeds into their families. They were immortals and would take with them the traditions of their people, never to be forgotten.
But, then, one day an old scientist of the order by the name of Stelar made a prediction."
Starr remembered Stelar; he converted Sestin.
"He predicted that one day, the vampires would figure out how to put the soul back in the vampire. When that day came, a new and most powerful species, the world will ever see, will arise. The soul is pure energy, and it will make the common vampire more powerful than the oldest Primordial, and more powerful than any soulless vampire.
Credenza, who is one such rare connection, half human-half Primordial, was born with a soul.
Until you came along, she was getting closer to figuring out how to get it back."
&nb
sp; Abruptly, he stopped speaking. With a quizzical look on his face, he tilted his head as if he were listening out for something.
Starr was impatient. She didn't want him to stop talking.
She said, "I still don't understand what this has to do with me."
He looked at her.
"There is one thing; one person preventing her from reaching her goals: you. Once she has her plans in place, she's coming for you. You are the last piece that she needs, to bring back her soul from the beyond."
He stood up, quickly.
"Someone's coming; I have to go."
"Wait, but why me?"
"Because you're connected. The soul is?" but then he trailed off.
"Wait!" she screamed.
All went black; he'd pushed her consciousness out of his mind. She tried to get back in but couldn't.
Her consciousness was pushed out of the room, and toward the city walls of Valhol.
As she was flying back, she saw Credenza, as she'd seen so many times that summer, running through the streets of the cobble stoned city.
Somehow, she thought she'd wake up under the cold snow, but, instead, a feeling came over her.
It was fear, so great and crippling.
She was soaring through the air. She smelled salt and ocean.
Then she saw Lake George. She flew into the house.
Shane and Marla were lying on a bed in her room. Shane had her arm wrapped around her waist, and was trying to comfort her.
They knew, thought Starr.
Somehow, they found out Starr had been buried in the snow.
But, how?
Someone had to have told them, because it wasn't possible for Shane or Marla to tap into psychic waves from so far.
Marla was crying uncontrollably.
"Don't worry," Shane said. "Everything will be fine."
Suddenly, she shot up, looking around the room.
Can she feel me? Starr asked herself.
But then Starr was distracted.
She floated into Mica's room where loud music was playing. Humming loudly, she danced about the room with her hands on her ears, and her eyes shut tight.
Starr heard the voices in Mica's head.
A few towns over, a man screamed to someone that they needed to go, now, if they wanted to survive.
In another, a group of vampires were discussing the number of estimated vampire deaths in Europe.
And yet, in many homes across the state, she heard people crying, and talking in panic.
Starr couldn't stand it, in Mica's consciousness, so she returned to her body.
Under the White
Chapter 6
She woke but still couldn't open her eyes, or move her limbs.
Tears leaked out of the sides of her eyes.
How am I gonna get out of here?
From above, she sensed the presence that she felt, earlier, lurking.
Whoever it was, was standing right above her. It occurred to Starr that it could have been Credenza.
The presence flew off, leaving her there under the icy snow.
More tears leaked from her eyes, making the snow seal to her face.
She started to get sleepy, once more. Slowly, all went black.
LYSSA
VAMPIN Book Series #13
By Jamie Ott
Copyright 2011 Jamie Ott. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used without written permission.
Publication Date: 7/21/2012
For all inquiries, please contact [email protected].
Warrior Princess
Chapter 1
The King walked down the line, saying his goodbyes to everyone. When he got to Lyssa, he reminded her, for the thousandth time, to stay out of the armory because it was no place for a young woman.
Everyone pretended not to know that she was his daughter. The King said it was for her protection, but she knew it was really because of Andrada.
She hated Lyssa.
Every chance she could, she'd hound the King about sending her away. But the King loved Lyssa's mother more than he'd ever loved a mortal woman. That's why he honored his promise by making Lyssa a Lady of the house.
"Be good, Lyssa," the King said.
He embraced her, and then kissed her cheek. Leaning in just slightly, he whispered, "I love you, my goddess. You're more precious than gold."
He kissed her one more time.
Lyssa didn't want to look at him. She was mad because he never listened to her. But she turned her eyes up from the gravel, anyway.
"I love you, too," she said.
He heaved up onto his horse.
They watched as he and his officers made their way down the palace's windy mountain road.
Lyssa turned to go inside, but not before catching the gaze of her stepmother and her half brother, Celius.
Murderous.
They had no reason to look so. Every king in history had his concubines. Since illegitimate children had no claim to the kingdom, neither Lyssa nor her other half-brother, Dracus, was a threat.
He leaned his arm around her shoulder, and they walked back inside the palace.
"Did you talk to him?" Dracus asked.
"Yes, and he hardly believed me when I told him about the letter Andrada received from Imperator Trajan. He said he talked to her, but I'm sure she put on her sweet, fetching smile," she replied.
They walked over the threshold and down the hall to the library.
"Father was always blind to women, thinking they're unintelligent creatures. 'But what about Cleopatra?' I asked. 'A harlot queen,' he says. She never could've ruled Egypt without Julius or Mark."
"Dracus, do not call him Father," she said, sitting in her cathedra.
"Why not? We're alone."
He walked across the room to the clay jug and poured himself some mead.
"Because if you slip, like I did by calling him father in front of the senators, he'll have you put in the carceral."
Ignoring her, he said, "Come on, Lys," as he sometimes called her for short. "Let's practice making petards."
"The King says if I'm caught in the armory once more, I'm to be barred in my room."
"You mustn't listen. The Romans will be coming for us, sooner or later.
You have to understand that though Father is a fairly good man, he has an extremely large ego.
Since he was born, he's been told that he's next to godliness. Because he can't let go of these silly ideologies, the Romans will take him.
Now, maybe we'll be lucky because hardly anyone knows who we are, but we need to be prepared to fight our way out of the castle. Just in case something should happen to me, you need to be prepared to fight alone."
"What makes you think the Romans will come again?"
"Rome wants there to be no more kings. Now the only reason they've allowed our father to remain is because of Andrada's persuasion, and Father's promised new allegiance to Rome. That's soon to change, as pressure from Rome to take Dacia increases, and especially as Father won't renounce his title. Taking this rich land, and Andrada for his concubine, will be another honor for him."
"The King will fight them off. He's done it before, and he'll do it again."
"All lies, Lyssa. I was there when we fought. He tells the people we won the battles to keep up morale, the support of the people and the army, but Rome could have taken us anytime.
Father, with his pride, rather than conform to the ways of Rome for the sake of his people, must show off, must be sovereign. He won't accept that he is no longer a king, and that is why they will come for him," he sighed. "Once Imperator Trajan comes, all Andrada will have to do is point her finger, and we're dead."
~~~
Later that night, she took dinner alone in her room on the hearth.
Her quarters were bland. A couple hanging tapestries covered the wood walls. In the center was a canopied wooden bed with stuffed and sewn up cloths.
Over mulled wine and sh
eep's stomach with honey and cheese, she imagined what would become of her beloved Sarmizegetusa.
The Romans had a history of destroying capital cities, with especial ill regard to temples and universities, often burning them to the ground. Great countries had already lost so much history and learning. The thought of such things happening to her city made her sick.
She sipped her wine and sighed.
The fire crackled.
Her brother was right, she said to herself. Although King Decebalus didn't believe it, his time would come to an end.
Lyssa wondered what her future would be.
Where would she go when the time came? Would she end up a peasant, a servant, or a slave?
What if she decided not to flee the palace? Would she be beaten, dragged through the city and executed?
Bastard or no, it wasn't common practice that any living descendants of a king should survive, lest he should declare himself King and exact his revenge when the conqueror least expected.
Dracus promised he'd always come for her; that she was all the family he had. But Lyssa knew that he was a terrible combatant. Even when the King sent him to the infantry, he'd likely be a councilman.
"So that's it," she said to herself. "I must leave before they come."
The sound of the palace gates being drawn distracted her from her thoughts.
She set her bread down and walked to the open shutter.
Her brother's shield bounced a ray of moonlight into her eye, as he rode down the mountain.
Every time he left, she got scared. One day, if the Romans didn't come soon, she'd be gone by the time he got back. Her stepmother would see to it.
She went to her special hiding place behind her favorite red tapestry.
Lyssa drew back the canvas and wiggled out the 10x4 inch piece of wood. Inside laid her favorite knife, a baselard, and the morning star her brother forged for her.
The baselard was sheathed by a scabbard that Lyssa had sewn into a set of straps. She rolled up her sleeve and tied the straps around her arm.
When the blade was secured, she grabbed the morning star and replaced the wood.
Lyssa returned to the fire and resumed her dining.
When alone in the palace with her stepmother and Celius, it was a wise practice to keep some weapons close. Lyssa was stronger than most humans, but she could still be overcome in numbers.
Dracus made the morning star especially for her. It was a small spiked metal ball with a chain that was attached to a foot long wood handle. He reinforced the handle with a sheet of metal.