by Paul Barrett
-Excerpt from On the Evil Ones by Howrena, Master Herbalist of Kalador
Erick, are you in there?
The voice reached toward him through the darkness. Its familiar sound promised a way out of the interminable void surrounding him. But he held back. The lonely, frightening darkness still felt safer than the intrusive voice.
Erick, answer me.
The hold of the darkness loosened, and memory grew stronger. An outline formed, something with wings and claws. A demon, come to take him to the Lower Hells? Erick retreated into the dark.
Erick, please wake up.
More details. Gray skin, a large, almost comical nose. Sharp-toothed grin. Not a demon, but someone he knew before the void took him.
Erick, you have to come back now.
The darkness lightened to a dull twilight. Details sharpened. Recognition came. He had to answer. He groaned as he tried to open his eyes, heavy as bricks.
“He’s coming around,” the voice--Blink’s voice--said.
“Thank Caros.” A quiet, feminine voice.
“He’ll be wanting water, I’d bet,” a third voice, soft but male, said. “I’ll go get him some.”
Erick heard footsteps, leather on wood, leave the room. He opened his eyes to find Blink and Elissia staring at him from opposite sides of his bed. Murky light filtered through the shears that covered his bedroom windows, a lantern glowed on his nightstand, and a clean linen sheet covered him to his waist.
He closed his eyes as a stabbing pain shot through his head. “How...” He started to speak, but he sounded like a dying frog. Prickly heat ran through his throat as he swallowed.
“Don’t try to talk,” Elissia said. “Corby’s gone to get you some water. I wanted to say thank you,” Elissia said.
For what?
“He wants to know for what?” Blink said.
“How did...oh, that’s right, your mind connection.”
How does she know about that? Erick asked.
We’ve had lots of time to talk.
Erick opened his eyes. Elissia smiled at him and took his hand. The warmth of her touch sent a thrill through his spine. She wore gray pants and a blue tunic that matched her eyes. The top clung to her chest, offering Erick a view he could enjoy waking to every day. She appeared even more beautiful than the last time he saw her.
“I want to thank you for saving my cousin from the vampire.”
Did I? Erick thought, offering a bemused smile.
Don’t you remember?
Erick shook his head but stopped as pain racked through it. Everything seemed hazy and unreal, someone else’s nightmare. But the ache in his head and throat told him it all happened. He tried to push past the fog in his mind and remember.
A voice inside his mind chuckled, a mocking sound from his unconscious dreams. Remember it all, the laugh said, and like the sun, the sound burned away the mist of his muddled visions. The night returned to Erick in terrifying lucidity. He’d fought a vampire. A vampire that had threatened Corby. A vampire that had once been his father.
The horror must have shown on his face. Elissia’s thin brows furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”
“I’m-” he tried to talk but shook his head in frustration.
Corby walked through the doorway, carrying a glazed earthenware mug in one hand and brass pitcher in the other. As always, it surprised Erick how much younger than his fifteen years the scholar looked. His slender face, tight cheeks, and bee-stung lips gave him a feminine appearance. He had nutmeg brown hair, shaved close to the scalp everywhere except the crown, where it hung like a patch of weeds growing from a close-cropped lawn. Dark, bushy eyebrows stuck out against his fair, freckled skin, thick as the hair on his head. He wore a brown supertunic, cinched at the waist by a black leather girdle. A strap over his shoulder held a leather haversack against his side, and a small ruby pierced the top of his left ear.
“This is my cousin Corby, but I understand you two already know each other,” Elissia said, an accusation in her tone.
Erick reached out an aching arm to accept the proffered mug of water. She knows about his visits?
Like I said, we’ve had time to talk.
He drank the water, which cooled his throat but hurt to swallow. When he finished, he said, “I’m so sorry.” His voice came out barely above a whisper.
Corby and Elissia exchanged confused glances. “Sorry about what?” Elissia asked.
How could he even begin to tell them? They would hate him for it. He considered saying nothing, taking the coward’s way out. But that had been his father and mother, leaping to their deaths. Erick refused to accept that path.
Blink put a claw on Erick’s covered leg. All you can do is tell them and hope they forgive you.
Erick nodded. “My...” he coughed to clear his throat, which still burned with dryness. “My father was the vampire.”
Corby didn’t seem particularly surprised, but Elissia’s face bunched in confusion. Erick could almost see her working her way through what he said and knew the exact moment the full force of his statement hit her. The shocked O of her mouth and widening of those almond-shaped blue eyes were a sight he would never forget.
“Your father? Eight people dead. Frazen dead. Because of him?”
“But-” Erick started to explain, to make her understand, but another bolt of pain hit him. He closed his eyes, trying to will it away. He heard Elissia walking toward the door.
“Elissia, please wait,” Erick said, but the tightness of his throat made his plea so soft he doubted she heard him.
Blink, stop her, he thought, opening his eyes in time to see her disappear through the doorway.
Let her go and give her time to accept it. If I stop her now, it won’t do any good.
As he heard the downstairs door slam, Erick said, “I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
Corby still stood there, holding the pitcher. He raised his dark eyebrows and said, “I suspected as much, but I didn’t tell Elissia, because I feared that would be her reaction. Frazen, her only friend in this benighted village, was the second killed.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“How could you?” Corby asked. “That’s why she came that night, to ask for your help, like the rest of the town.”
Erick wanted to scream. Both for the loss of life inflicted by his father, or whatever remained of his father, and for the chance of friendship ruined by his blurted admission.
What were you going to say?” Corby asked.
“What?”
“You were going to say something before Elissia left. What?”
“That the vampire wasn’t my father.”
“Then why did you say it was?”
“It came out wrong. I’m still not thinking straight.”
Corby scratched at his head, and Erick caught a scent of the sandalwood oil the scholar always slicked in his hair. “But it looked like him, obvious deformities aside. Was it or wasn’t it?”
At one time, Erick would have found Corby’s dispassion odd, but since they had come to know each other, he knew the boy kept his emotions under tight rein. Inside, Corby might be feeling as sad and outraged as Elissia, but he wouldn’t show it.
“He was my father,” Erick said, “or at least it was my father’s body. But the change to a vampire destroys the mind, or at least the part that knows right from wrong, that experiences love and compassion. My father may have been in there somewhere.” Erick paused, pushing back the sorrow that wanted to close his throat. His father had been in there, unreachable, and Erick had done the only thing he could to free him. He had to believe that. “But the will of Elonsha gave him only the need to kill and feed.”
“He seemed to recognize you.” Corby poured more water in the cup for Erick. “And he knew enough about compassion to recognize your friendship with me and use it against you. Also, thank you for saving my life.”
“It’s my fault you were in danger in the first place.”
Corby s
hook his head. “That’s the part I don’t understand. How is what your father did your fault?”
Erick laid his head back on the pillow. His entire body moaned in pain. “I should have known something was wrong. I should have been able to stop them from killing themselves.”
“You expect too much of yourself. That’s one thing you and Elissia have in common,” Corby said. He pursed his full lips. “Was your parents’ death the reason you didn’t want to talk to me this past month?”
Erick nodded. “I wouldn’t have been good company. I had to try and work out what happened.”
“I could have helped.”
“Perhaps, but it doesn’t matter now. I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. I understand.”
Something in Corby’s tone told Erick his friend accepted his reasoning but didn’t agree. He had heard a similar attitude in his parents anytime he explained why he needed to break away from them someday and live his own life, outside the confines of the manor. He realized he could now, and no one would stop him. But he didn’t know anymore if he wanted to.
The sound of water pouring into his cup brought Erick back, and he realized he had drained the vessel a second time without realizing it.
“Can suicide create vampires?” Corby asked.
“Not that I’ve ever heard.”
“So even if you stopped your father from killing himself, you might not have stopped him from becoming a vampire.” Corby frowned and ran a hand through his top fringe and wiped the hand against his tunic, just below the girdle. “Did you know he was a vampire?”
“No.”
“Do you know how he became one?”
“I have ideas.”
“Such as?”
Erick hesitated, then realized he wanted to talk. Needed to talk. He had been so used to only his parents understanding; it just now occurred to him that others might be able to listen and help him. “There are three ways. One is that he performed a special ritual that would change him. Why he would do that, I have no idea. But much as it hurts, I hope that’s what happened.”
“Why?”
“Because another way is that a Necromancer created him, but there are no others on this island. That leaves only the possibility that Eligos turned him, which would mean the Inconnu have returned.” Despite the warmth of the blankets, Erick had to suppress a chill.
“Fathen preaches that the Inconnu no longer exist. That they never existed, except as boogies the Necromancers used to justify their existence.”
“Fathen is an idiot.”
“Not a point I’m inclined to argue,” Corby said. “Do any of those methods involve you helping?”
“No.”
Corby shrugged. “Then I can’t see how it was your fault.”
Erick stared at Corby. Put in such plain words, the scholar’s logic made great sense. The facts didn’t make Erick feel any less guilty, but it gave him hope that Elissia would eventually reach the same conclusion, and forgive him. “I know I’ve said it before, but you’re smart.”
“Well, I am a scholar.” Corby offered a broad smile. As always, black spots dotted his small teeth, from his habit of tapping a quill against them.
“Could you tell Elissia?”
“That I’m a scholar? She already knows.”
“No, that it’s not my fault.”
“Oh, she knows it too. Or at least she’ll figure it out once she calms down. Aunt Beatru might be more of a problem, though.”
“Who?”
“My mother’s sister. Elissia lives with her, although she considers it more like being imprisoned.” He frowned. “That’s one thing she and I have in common.” After a moment, he shook his head and turned to Erick with a start, as if he had been caught telling a secret. “What do you do now, about the vampire?
Did I stop the priquana in time? Erick asked Blink.
No, Blink answered. They only left the bones, which dissolved as soon as the sun hit them.
Erick shrugged. The motion made his shoulder hurt. “There’s nothing I can do since I don’t know how he was created. My chance at finding evidence disappeared when the priquana consumed the body.”
Corby’s question worried Erick. It made him aware that he had no idea what to do if the Master of Shadows had broken his exile to menace the world again. His father had taught him how to combat the ancient evil, but not how to recognize it.
It’s ancient evil, Blink thought. Something tells me it won’t be too difficult to spot.
Corby set the pitcher down on the nightstand. “’No sense inviting trouble to your doorstep; it comes freely enough of its own accord,’” he said, quoting an old Zakerin expression. “I’m sure you can handle whatever happens.”
Erick wished such confidence was justified.
“I should apologize also,” Corby added.
“For what?”
“I should have warned you about the town somehow. Should have been brave enough to come up even if I did think you were angry at me.”
“It’s okay, and I’m sorry you thought I was angry. But why did the whole town come, and in the middle of the night?”
“Fathen had assured them you would be out working your foul magic in the dark of night.” Corby shrugged. “I couldn’t tell them any different.”
“No, you couldn’t.” Erick smiled. “Guess we’re back to Fathen being an idiot.”
Corby offered his stain-toothed smile. “Guess so. I imagine you’re hungry. I’ll leave you to get dressed and get something to eat. I suggest you talk to Elissia when you feel better. I’ll tell her to expect you.” He turned to walk out.
“Which house is hers?” Erick asked.
Corby turned back. “Small house near the temple. Ask for Oren and anyone can point you to it.”
“Thanks. And Corby?”
Corby smiled and waited, the question on his slender, boyish face.
“Thanks for taking care of Blink and me.”
Corby’s cheeks reddened. “You saved my life. It was the least I could do.”
After Corby left, Erick pushed aside the dark yellow cover. “Why don’t I have any clothes on?” he asked.
“You usually sleep naked,” Blink answered. “Although unconscious is a better word for what you’ve been the past three days.”
Erick lifted into a sitting position, and a wave of dizziness ran through his head. When it passed, he said. “I’ve been out for three days?”
“Almost four. It’s late afternoon.”
“That would explain why I was so thirsty.”
“I was out for a day and a half,” Blink said. “Elissia told me that Corby’s mother Hara stitched and bandaged your neck, and Brannon put you in bed. Corby and Elissia cared for us while I was out, and then I kept you clean, and Elissia fed you soup she made herself.”
“She did? That was kind of her. I wonder if she regrets it now.” His face flushed. “Did she see me naked?”
“Corby helped me change the sheets when necessary, but you were naked when I woke up, so she may have.”
Erick’s face burned as he considered the possibility. His mind gladly provided him with enjoyable scenarios. Had she tended to him? Helped bathe him while Blink lay unconscious? Touched him in forbidden places? A surge went through him and made him light-headed.
“I see you’re feeling better,” Blink said with a goofy grin.
Erick followed Blink’s gaze and grinned back. “Just thinking about—”
“I know what you were thinking about,” Blink said. “It’s what you think about the majority of your waking hours. You have a filthy mind.”
“I think of it as a good imagination,” Erick said. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and sat fully upright. His muscles protested, and another wave of dizziness made him grab the iron bars of his headboard. “At least we won.”
“Does it bother you?” Blink asked.
“Father killed himself,” Erick said, voice tight. “I only killed the thing he had become. I on
ly which I would have known about it sooner. And that I could have saved him.”
“It was a close thing,” Blink said. “Next time, I’d rather you hit the vampire with the potion before he bites you.”
“Next time, I’ll try not to get bitten at all.” Erick touched his neck for the first time since he awoke and sucked in a sharp breath at the intense pain. A thick cloth bandage encircled his throat, holding pads of cotton fabric against the bite marks. His hand brushed across soft, fuzzy stubble on his cheek.
“Do you think Corby was right? Will Elissia think it wasn’t my fault?”
Blink didn’t speak for a moment. He didn’t have to read Erick’s thoughts. The need for acceptance suffused his master’s eyes and face. Anger flashed through the familiar at what Erick’s parents had put their son through. How could they have kept him so isolated? How could they have left him like they did?
He put a taloned hand on Erick’s knee. “I don’t know people any better than you do, but Elissia and I talked. I told her what a caring person you are. She said what you did for Corby was the bravest thing she had ever seen, and she wished half the people in her life had your courage. She stayed here day and night, against her aunt’s wishes, and made sure we were both cared for. She and Corby were the only ones in town to do that. It was their way of repaying what you did.” Blink paused and looked into his master’s eyes. “What do you think?”
“I guess if anyone would give me a chance, she would.”
“That’s what I think too.” Blink removed his hand and offered another wide grin. “But just in case she’s rousted the town, and they’re heading up here with torches and pitchforks, maybe you should get up.”
Erick chuckled, even though it hurt. Blink always made him feel better, and talking with Corby had given him hope.
He searched for his clothing and found nothing on the wooden floor, save the brown, woven throw rug that had been buried under his clothes since his mother’s death.
Seeing the rug brought back a memory and broke something inside Erick. His smile disappeared as he sank to the bed. Tears flowed as the hammer of the past crushed his heart.
The one chore his mother kept for herself was laundry. Everything else she left to the manor’s undead servants, but the laborious duty of scrubbing and rinsing clothing and bed linens belonged to her. She would take the dirty garments to the copper washbasin that sat beside the well as she whistled an old sailor’s tune, while young Erick tagged at her heels.