Forgotten

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by P. C. Cast; Kristin Cast


  “Children! Create for me a walkway—a raft to carry me nearer the magick that answers me there!” She lifted the lantern even higher, gesturing out at the silent water and the hulk of land beyond. “And be visible! Let all witness the glory that is my beloved children!”

  From the night around her, the dark tendrils became visible. They slithered forward, laying themselves along the surface of the water and creating a living raft she stepped carefully onto.

  “Steady me, children! Keep your mother above the darkened waves!” The tendrils flowed around and above her ankles, supporting and anchoring her. “Now, forward! Carry me to the center of the loch!”

  The tendrils did as she commanded. The vampyre briefly wished she’d thought to have Lynette take pictures, for surely the night had never seen such a sight as Neferet, buoyed by magick, naked and glorious and seeming to walk on water to the middle of the loch. The whistling wind lifted her mane of auburn hair so that it flew madly around her. The flame in the lantern flickered as if it danced in partnership with the wind, sending playful, licking shadows over her perfect, porcelain skin.

  Her children moved with preternatural speed. Impossibly swift and strong, they reached the center of the loch quickly—slowed and then stopped. Neferet placed the lantern beside her on her living raft. Then, from around her neck she lifted the platinum chain that held the fat ruby, placing it in the empty bowl where it glistened with trapped starlight. Neferet held the tray before her, raising it as if she offered it to the highest peak of the dark isle.

  “Sprites of olde! Spirits of earth, sea, fire, and air!

  I greet you and gift you with libations rich and jewels fair.

  I ask nothing in return; I only honor your past

  And hold to the ancient ways true and steadfast.

  Accept what is freely given with love and respect

  As too often the present does the past neglect.

  So, I cleave to the olde ways and shall never forget

  Hear me—see me—know me! I am Neferet!”

  Neferet bent then and carefully placed the tray on the water in front of her living raft, where it floated and bobbed gently while it drifted away—the tide carrying it toward the darkness that was the Isle of Skye. Neferet did not turn away. She did not begin back. Instead she watched and listened—and was duly rewarded when a wave that appeared to be a watery arm ending in webbed fingers closed over the tray, pulling it and the bowls into the depths.

  Neferet’s smile was fierce. “Now, children, return me to land!”

  Other Lynette

  Lynette had been fearful at first. She’d never been a fan of deep water—especially deep, dark water—and standing on the bank of the loch in the middle of the night with little light in the company of a vampyre and her supernatural children had been a creepy experience—especially when those children carried the naked vampyre out onto the silent loch.

  But something changed when Neferet began speaking the invocation—or at least an invocation was what Lynette assumed it was, and she made a mental note to research vampyre spellwork and rituals. Whatever Neferet’s intention had been, the result was that from the middle of the loch she blazed with passion and power—like Aphrodite newly born from the sea. No, Lynette shook her head as she watched Neferet place the offering tray on the loch, Aphrodite was too tame a goddess. Neferet was a more powerful force. Something untamed and as yet unnamed. More than vampyre—more than divine—she seemed the personification of strength, confidence, and beauty. She is everything I ever wished to be, and if she becomes immortal I will worship her for the rest of my life, Lynette vowed.

  Neferet stepped from her living raft and, smiling victoriously, returned to Lynette, who offered the slippers and the sheer chemise.

  “My lady, next time I will bring your robe. It is far too cold out here!”

  “Dear Lynette, you need not worry for me. I do not feel the cold as do humans. Did you see? They accepted my offering—immediately and the first time.”

  “Did you doubt that they would, my lady?”

  “Of course! Sprites are beings created by Old Magick. They are mysterious, powerful, and capricious. Never forget that. Never underestimate anything linked to Old Magick.”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  Neferet peered back at Balmacara Mains, her smile returning. “I see the staff has already retreated within. Did you watch to be sure they observed everything?”

  Lynette’s stomach tightened. Why the hell didn’t I think to look behind me? “I apologize, my lady, but I was mesmerized by you. I—I have never seen anything like what you just did. You are so powerful—so beautiful. I wasn’t thinking of anything else.”

  Neferet’s expression softened and she touched Lynette’s shoulder gently. “Of course you could not look away. I was quite a sight, was I not?”

  “Oh, my lady! You were magnificent!”

  “Yes. Yes, I was. And you are forgiven. We should know soon if the staff did as I commanded, and if not, they will be reprimanded. Now, hurry ahead and be certain my feeder has arrived. I am famished. Make quite sure he is washed. I cannot abide a sweaty, filthy human. Give him drink—something strong. And then bring him to my suite.”

  “Of course, my lady. How else may I serve you tonight?”

  She didn’t answer right away. Instead Neferet studied Lynette so closely that she had to force herself not to fidget nervously. But when the vampyre spoke, her voice and her expression were filled with concern and kindness.

  “My dear, tonight you may serve me by resting. You have done well—very well. But I see that you are exhausted. Eat something nourishing. Sleep. I will send the feeder on his way when I am finished with him.” Neferet paused and then added, “He is one I must return, is he not?”

  Lynette swallowed past the ball of tension that had suddenly risen in her throat. “He’s local, my lady. Registered as a willing feeder. I believe if you drained him it would call attention to you.”

  “Well, that wouldn’t do. Not at all. But in the future consider that there are times I enjoy finishing a meal—completely. Tonight I shall show self-restraint. Now, go ahead and prepare him for me. As soon as you deliver my feeder you may retire—with my blessing.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Lynette curtsied and began picking her way back across the slick rocks and muddy bank, and as she did, Neferet’s voice drifted on the cold night air to her, turning her blood to ice.

  “My children! You have done so well tonight that I grant you a boon. You may choose one home—out there somewhere—be sure it is not close enough to us to draw human attention here. Feast on whomever lives there. Finish them completely. Leave no trace. Bon appétit, my darlings …”

  Don’t think about it except to be glad it’s them and not you, Lynette told herself firmly as she reentered the B&B. She assumed the feeder would be waiting in the drawing room, which is where she was headed when Mrs. Muir, face the color of spoiled milk, stepped from a dark alcove to stop her.

  “I ask that you give the brollachan a message.” Mrs. Muir spoke breathlessly, as if she’d run a marathon and not been waiting silently in a shadowy corner.

  “Brollachan?” Lynette asked with some hesitation.

  “Herself.” Mrs. Muir jutted her hairy chin in the direction of the loch. “She is welcome here to bide as long as she will. We willnae speak a word of her—ever. I only ask she not steal our souls—not a one from this household.”

  Lynette sucked in a breath. The old woman was clearly terrified, and Lynette realized she could answer Neferet easily about whether the staff had observed as she’d commanded—just as she understood the vampyre’s intention had been exactly that—to terrify Muir and the others into obeying her. A wave of relief washed over her, making her legs feel wobbly. This means Neferet doesn’t have to make an example of another Ed!

  “My lady protects those who are loy
al to her. Be true and you will only know her generosity and support. Betray her—even in the smallest thing—and she will—”

  “Gonnae no’ dae that!” Mrs. Muir blurted, her accent as thick as her fear.

  “Good. Then you have nothing to worry about. Is the feeder here?”

  “Aye, in the sitting room.”

  “I’ll see to him. You may retire.”

  Mrs. Muir bobbed an awkward curtsy before hastily retreating. Lynette walked briskly into the drawing room. The young man was seated before the fireplace. He stood quickly as she entered.

  “Missus, good day,” he said.

  “Hello, what is your name?” Lynette studied him quickly. He was tall, young, muscular, and handsome—just as she’d specified to the local network of feeders.

  “Robby, missus,” he said.

  “Robby, when did you last bathe?” she asked as she went to the silver tray on which Mrs. Muir kept a decanter of scotch and several glasses. Lynette filled one of them with the amber liquid and handed it to the boy.

  “Just before I came, missus. Vampyres don’t like us mingin’.” He grinned.

  “Well, this particular vampyre wants you clean and a little drunk. Is that fine with you?”

  “Och, aye!” his blue eyes sparkled as he drained the glass.

  Lynette refilled it. “Another.”

  “Sláinte mhath!” Robby raised his glass again.

  Lynette refilled it a third time, but touched his hand, stopping him before he drained it. “Take that one with you. I’m going to show you to her suite. Listen carefully to me. Call her only ‘my lady.’ Do not speak unless she begins a conversation or asks a question. This vampyre is not like any other. She is powerful and she is dangerous. If you speak a single word about her—if you describe her to anyone or tell anyone there is a vampyre High Priestess staying at Balmacara Mains she will know, and—make no mistake—this vampyre will kill you. Do you understand, Robby?”

  The glint of humor and mischief extinguished instantly, and the boy nodded. “Aye.”

  “How old are you?” she couldn’t help but ask.

  “Eighteen, missus.”

  “Be smart and you’ll make it to nineteen. Be stupid or reckless or arrogant and you will die.”

  “I willnae be clyping.”

  “I hope that means you’ll keep your mouth shut.”

  “Aye, fur sure.”

  “Good, now close your mouth and come with me.”

  Lynette led him to Neferet’s suite and knocked twice on her door. The vampyre opened it standing in a pool of light cast only by candles she’d lit around the room. Lynette heard Robby suck in his breath, and she couldn’t blame the boy. Neferet had to be the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.

  “Come in and take off your clothes,” Neferet said after barely glancing at the boy. As he entered the room she met Lynette’s gaze, smiled, and nodded before closing the door firmly.

  Lynette made her way slowly to the parlor to pour herself a generous glass of single malt before she retired to her own room and began googling “brollachan” and “vampyre spellwork.”

  11

  Other Kevin

  Kevin made sure he was early to the next Council Meeting, and he was rewarded with a special smile from Anastasia, but then she was all business, calling the meeting to order even though Stark hadn’t arrived yet.

  “Professor Penthesilea,” Anastasia began. “You’ve been leading the tunnel renovation. How is that coming?”

  “The construction crews are working as quickly as possible,” said Professor P. “I decided to enlist to help of the red vampyres who are most lucid. It gives them purpose and keeps them busy and out of their own heads. It seems to be working—at least for some of them.”

  “May Nyx continue to help them heal,” said Anastasia.

  Professor P cleared her throat and continued. “For the record, I’d like to say how good it is to have a High Priestess who truly follows the path of Nyx again.”

  Anastasia’s smile was wise, but more than a little sad. “As Priestesses of Nyx we should never have allowed Neferet so much control, especially as we began to see the warning signs. We are all culpable for the chaos and war and hatred she loosed on this world. We must all take responsibly for repairing the damage she has done to our reputation. I will never stay silent again. Now, what is our next priority?”

  Dragon straightened in his chair. “We need to be sure the Zoey ghost story is buried so Neferet, wherever the hell she’s hiding, doesn’t put two and two together and get curious about where a fully Changed, living Zoey Redbird could have come from,” said Dragon. “Kevin, how is our IT team coming along with that?”

  Kevin spoke up immediately. “I’ve been working with them, and they’re having some pretty good luck in buying the images of Z and taking them offline, and/or disseminating confusing alternative ghost stories so that my sister isn’t the only weird thing that happened that night.”

  Professor Nolan gestured in animated frustration as she added, “I don’t think we have much to worry about, though I do agree that we need to take down as many of the images of Zoey as possible. The truth is that there are a lot more images of Nyx swirling around out there on the internet than Zoey anyway.”

  Professor P chimed in. “And don’t forget that video of Neferet falling from the stadium press box and then skittering away like she was boneless,” she shuddered. “Most of the attention is focused on her, especially after we announced the one-hundred-thousand-dollar reward for anyone who brings us information that leads to her capture.”

  “Actually, I have word on that,” Stark said as he entered the school conference room, looking grim. He nodded at everyone before he took a seat. “Sorry, I got held up dealing with the funeral plans for the red vampyres who committed suicide earlier today.”

  Anastasia shook her head sadly. “It is such a tragedy that we cannot reach all of them.” Then she stiffened. “We found Neferet?” The High Priestess sounded equal parts excited and frightened.

  Stark ran a hand through his hair as he took a seat. “No. But we did finally track down the jet. It’s in a hangar just outside Venice.”

  “Did the pilot admit that she’s alive? That she was his passenger to Venice?” Anastasia asked.

  “Absolutely not. He made up some crazy story about being ordered—by a phone call from someone who claimed to be Neferet—to fly a roundabout ghost flight from Tulsa to Venice via London, and then he said he was told to wait with the jet in Venice for further instructions. He’s young. Just promoted to captain for that flight, and he was borderline hysterical when the Sons of Erebus Warriors were questioning him,” Stark said.

  “Did they torture him?” Anastasia asked, her tone making it clear that she disapproved.

  “No. Not at all,” Stark assured her.

  Dragon leaned forward in his chair. “So, his fear level tells us Neferet is definitely alive and that she chartered the jet after she had her creatures—what is it Zoey called them?” he asked Kevin.

  “Tendrils of Darkness. Zo said her Neferet began manifesting them as she gained more and more power,” said Kevin.

  Stark nodded. “Yes, that’s it—tendrils of Darkness. Apparently, they are what ate the humans that night at the bar across from the stadium, and the pilot and a teenage human who worked at the private airport,” said Stark. “Neferet left no witnesses. The high-definition security cameras were all wiped clean. We can’t find the human woman who was the flight concierge. So, she either escaped or Neferet killed her too but did away with her body. The bottom line is, if Neferet wasn’t behind what happened, the pilot wouldn’t be so terrified. I agree with Dragon. She is definitely still alive.”

  “And we have no idea where she is.” Kevin rubbed his forehead. For the past four days, it seemed he always had a headache. It felt like there was sand in
his eyes. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d eaten. He could remember the last time he’d felt happy—felt whole. It had been four days ago in Aphrodite’s arms. Since then nothing had been the same. They were calling Zoey a ghost, but he wanted to shout, It’s me! I’m the ghost! I’m only half here without Aphrodite!

  “And the High Council hasn’t spoken with her?” Anastasia was asking.

  “No,” Stark said. “They’re prepared to place her under arrest the instant she shows herself, and that’s all the information I can get out of them. They hold us responsible for Neferet and her war.”

  “They should. We are responsible,” Anastasia said. “We allowed Neferet to have too much power. No one questioned her, even though many of us felt increasingly uneasy about her motives.”

  “You’re right. I should’ve done something sooner,” said Stark.

  Dragon nodded. “We all should have. And now we all are paying the consequences for our apathy.”

  Anastasia lifted one hand, silencing the room. “On the positive side, we understand Neferet. She’s smart enough to know that the High Council is not her ally, and no one here on the School Council will be her ally ever again. She won’t show herself until she’s powerful enough to take on all of us.” She squared her shoulders, as if preparing for a battle. “We should have one of our people watch San Clemente Island. She may follow the plan Zoey’s Neferet concocted and try to convince the High Council that she is Nyx come to earth. If she gets them on her side, she has all of Europe behind her.”

  Stark spoke up. “It’s definitely what I’d do if I’d become a twisted immortal who wanted to rule the world.”

  “I agree. We need to know the moment Neferet reveals herself,” said Anastasia. “If the High Council won’t work with us, we need to work around them.”

  “I’ll send a Son of Erebus to secretly keep watch over San Clemente Island.” Dragon turned to Stark. “You had them confiscate the jet, right?”

 

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