by E. M. Knight
“You shower me with too many compliments. But I thank you.” He bows his head. Then, he looks up with a little grin. “I was wondering how long it would take for you to start appreciating my winning qualities.”
“Don’t push your luck,” I warn, but I also have a smile on my face.
“So, what do you have in mind for me?” he asks.
“You will be my advisor. Geordam is doing well in his position of Captain Commander, and I intend bigger things for you than that. The Forsaken Sisters have warned me of an even bigger threat to the prosperity of The Haven than you know.” I glance at them. They give no indication of objecting to what I know they know I’m about to say.
“They think Cierra will attack the wards,” I tell him. “With demons on her side.”
“Demons?” he asks. “That’s… interesting.”
“They draw on a different source of magic, as you know. From my understanding it is more closely related to the Blood Magic you are capable of. That makes your abilities even more valuable.”
“Similar, but not exact,” Lorna interrupts. “They are similar in the way sea water and fresh water are similar. Fish who survive in one cannot survive in the other. Humans can drink one, but not the other. You mustn’t mistake the magic Phillip can use with what Cierra will bring against you.”
“I won’t,” I say, a little irritated at being undercut like that. “My point was that Phillip has a unique perspective that we can utilize.”
“Had,” he corrects. “I’m still bound to Raul, and my magic is giving him life. I cannot access the Elemental Forces, even with the oaths lifted. Except…” he hesitates for a moment, then seems to make up his mind, and speaks swiftly. “I told Raul this earlier. When Mother granted me Blood Magic, a link formed between us. I can feel her, I am aware of her, no matter how far away we are. Through that link, I can pull on small tendrils of her magic.”
Christ, even more revelations. “Right,” I say. “We need to remedy both those things immediately.” I look at the Forsaken Sisters. “What do you need for that to be done, and how soon can you do it? Disconnect Phillip from Raul and from his Mother. Make him his own man again.”
Allura shakes her head. “Unfortunately, Eleira, these things cannot be undone. Not without risking Raul’s own life, and Morgan’s.
“Philip’s brother is badly hurt. The wound will never heal. Raul relies on the stream of magic to sustain himself. Likewise, from Phillip’s perspective, we’ve isolated the poison from him. Blood Magic destroys. If left unchecked, over time, it will devour his body, mind, and spirit from the inside. Without the bond we put between them, both vampires risk death, madness… or worse.”
I hate hearing that. “Are you telling me there’s nothing you can do?” I look back at Morgan’s form. “What about her magic? Sever her link to Phillip, then establish the same sort of link Phillip and Raul have between her and Raul. Can’t you take it from her, feed it to Raul, make him survive off that? We would kill two birds with one stone. Morgan would be declawed, Phillip will be restored.”
“You’re not listening,” Allura says. Her tone of voice makes me feel like a child. “If Phillip is given access again to Blood Magic, his mind will be destroyed. Even if it were possible, Eleira, I would not allow it.”
“And who are you to tell me what I am and am not allowed to do?” I demand.
I fling my influence out at her to remind her of her place in the hierarchy.
But Allura does something completely unexpected. She embraces the Elemental Forces and uses Spirit to swat the influence away. That fifth force is invisible to me, but I know instinctually it is the only one capable of doing something like that.
And suddenly, to make things worse, I feel the influence being mirrored back onto me, yet amplified somehow, augmented.
For the first time since being made Queen I feel the weight of one higher in the hierarchy bearing down on me.
My mind splinters, as I have no defense. I know Allura’s strength, I know how much weaker than me she is as a vampire, and yet, she’s manipulated the influence to take advantage of me somehow.
I try my utmost to fight it—but the hierarchy is deeply ingrained in the vampire within. It comes before the display of dominance.
To my great shame, I withdraw and step back. Allura keeps the influence coming, crashing it into me, until all I want to do is curl up in a tiny ball and hide from the world.
Suddenly, it cuts off. I’m left reeling. If Allura could manipulate the hierarchy like that…
“Do not treat us as one of your regular vampires,” the witches say in sync, although I know it is Allura speaking through them. There is no spite in the tone, only… disapproval. “We have many things to teach you, girl of prophecy, and we have come to offer ourselves to you. But the relationship will be one based on mutual respect, or there will not be one at all.”
The room goes quiet. The unspoken implication of those last words resonates with me:
You will be left to defend The Haven against Cierra on your own.
I give myself a shake and stand back up to my regular height. “I understand,” I say. “And I apologize. I’ve had no rest for a very long time. With the sun never rising here, it’s easy to forget to sleep.”
Phillip clears his throat. “The conversations we were having,” he reminds us, “first and foremost concerns me.” He stares at Allura. “You’re telling me I won’t ever have my magic back?”
“Not if you wish to live,” she says.
“And the tendrils I can take from Mother?”
“I have no doubt she will block those from you when she is fully conscious.”
For half a second, I think I detect a hint of… concern… in her voice.
But I dismiss it. That’s ridiculous.
“That’s a cruel joke,” Phillip barks a laugh. “Mother gave me the gift of Blood Magic. And now it’s taken away. I have my eyes opened to what I’m capable of, I’m teased with it for a short while, and then it’s all snatched away?”
He sounds both agitated and angry.
Yet I am impressed that he is able to keep his voice from rising.
“You are of no use to your Queen if you are not alive,” Allura says.
Once more, I hear the hidden implication. To your Queen…or to me.
Could Allura have a thing for Phillip?
A stupid bit of jealously comes to life inside of me. It’s so absurd, I want to laugh. Me, jealous of another woman giving Phillip attention?
Then again… Phillip is the one and only male vampire in our midst who’s shown himself in possession of some true alpha qualities.
I give myself a rough shake. This cavernous little room is getting to me.
I want to be out in the night.
“Enough of this,” I interrupt. “We’ve spent long enough here.”
“What do you intend to do with her?” Phillip asks, glancing at his mother. “It might be wiser to put her in the silver cells than to leave her here.”
“The cells are no place for a woman who once was Queen,” I announce. “I want Morgan kept in my apartments, with an array of the Royal Guard keeping watch.”
Phillip narrows his eyes slightly at me.
“She lived in those rooms,” he says, “for a very long time. The Haven has secrets, Eleira. She knows them all. How do you think I found all the stashed vials of blood kept within the stronghold?”
“I’m well aware of Morgan’s past,” I say blandly. “What is your point?”
“My point is that Mother knows every nook and cranny there is to know. What if she has a torrial hidden away somewhere in the apartment? What if she calls up some version of Blood Magic with a scroll?”
“We don’t need to worry about that,” I say. “The Forsaken Sisters will see to it that Morgan behaves. Allura, Sute, Lorna? You wanted access to The Haven’s old queen? Now you have it. Ward the room however you like, place whatever bonds you need on her. My guards can provide a pair of silver
cuffs that she won’t be able to break out of. Although, with your ability to manipulate the hierarchy, I don’t think they would be of any need.”
“No,” Allura smiles. “They would not.” She strolls over to the altar casually.
“Transfer the weaves holding her in place to me,” she requests.
I blink. “How? I didn’t know that was possible.”
“Then let it be my first lesson to you. One witch can always transfer the weaves she has made to be held by another.”
“Okay,” I say. “Tell me what to do.”
“I want you to see the weaves with your mind’s eye,” she dictates. “Close your eyes so your focus is pure.”
I do. “Okay,” I say. “Now what?”
“You feel them pulsing through you, the Currents giving them life?”
I’ve done so much magic that the feeling described is already instinctual to me. “Yes.”
“Concentrate on that, Eleira. Concentrate on the source of the magic. Let your subconscious mind be responsible for maintaining the spells, but do not tie them off. You need to focus on their point of inception.”
“Okay,” I swallow. “I can do that. Done.”
“Good,” she says. “Now, I will open myself up to you.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“Don’t mind that. You’ll find out soon enough. When I open myself to you, I make myself vulnerable. So this sort of transfer is not something to be taken lightly.”
“Okay…” I say.
“Once you feel me opening up, I need you to direct the flow of the weaves to me. Feed them into me, and in the moment I take hold, let go. The first time we try, it may feel… jarring.”
“I’m ready,” I commit. I concentrate on the Currents flowing in to feed the weaves, but no more.
Allura starts a countdown. “Three,” she says. “Two. One…”
All of a sudden, a brilliant flash of light explodes in my head. Suddenly, I am fully aware of Allura, more so than ever before. She stands out like a beacon in my mind’s eye, drowning out everything else.
This is not just the Vampire Gifts making you perceive the presence of others. This is something much more. In my mind, Allura stands as a goddess, shining bright with the full force of…
Of what must surely be Spirit, I realize.
“Now. Eleira,” she tells me. “Feed the weaves into me now!”
I go for it. I redirect the weaves on their way to Morgan and make them flow into Allura.
Her spirit form absorbs them immediately. But as soon as it does, there’s a sharp snap-back, and the cut-off Currents crash into me.
I yelp in surprise and stagger back, feeling the sting all over my body. My eyes pop open.
Allura is smiling.
“Very well done,” she praises. “It takes most witches half a dozen efforts to get it right. You managed right away.”
“What was that thing I felt at the end?” I ask her.
“I had to cut the Currents off to make them mine,” she explains. “But since they flowed out from you, they had to return to their original form using the same path. It is nothing more nor less than you feeling the Currents flowing in reverse. The sensation is never pleasant. At least it does not get worse.”
“And now you have full control over the weaves I made?” I marvel.
“Yes,” she says. “They are quite good, Eleira. Not great, but you are still young. What you lack in experience and intricacy you make up in brute strength.”
I watch, amazed, as Allura adjusts select portions of the weaves to make them more efficient. I know she is making the tapestry visible only for my benefit. She could easily do it away from prying eyes.
It only takes her a minute or two to make the requisite adjustments. I’m awestruck as I realize that she has simultaneously strengthened the spell and made it use less energy. A lot less—maybe by a factor of five.
A combined sense of wonder and excitement takes me. If I can learn to be that efficient… If I can learn from the witches who are the best who’ve ever lived…
Well, then, with the advent of prophecy, I do not think any could beat me.
Not even Cierra.
Allura prods Morgan on the shoulder. The former Queen opens her eyes.
“Let’s go,” Allura says. “We’re bringing you away from here.”
Morgan sniffs, then makes a deliberate effort at rolling her eyes. She directs her gaze at her wrists and ankles, which I had bound—but that I know are now free.
“Don’t pretend,” I snap, irritated at the infantile behavior. Allura had also obviously removed the air block around her ears. “Your behavior is unbecoming for a former monarch.”
“My, my,” Morgan says, slowly, pushing herself up and staring at me. “Haven’t you become forceful. And you, Phillip? Where do you stand in all this?”
He takes a solid step to my side. “I stand with Eleira,” he says. My heart, for whatever stupid reason, flutters at the declaration. “The Haven’s rightful Queen.”
“Smart of you,” Morgan quips. Then, with another exaggerated show of effort, she pushes herself up. She wobbles when she’s fully upright.
I don’t know if that was for effect or real.
Allura takes her by the arm.
“Cast a veil over her, will you?” I ask. I nod to Morgan’s face. “I do not think she would like the Elite or Incolam to see her this way.”
“I appreciate your concern,” Morgan says, voice full of sickly-sweet venom. “But I would rather my vampires see me in full—”
“Your vampires,” I interrupt darkly, “are now mine. You lost the crown. You lost the throne. They are no more your vampires than The Crypts’ vampires are. This whole coven belongs to me now. You made it so.”
Morgan opens her mouth in anger, forming some sort of retort—but then gasps in indignation when a gag of air is stuffed into it by Allura.
“We’ll have to teach her to be more humble,” the Forsaken Sister says.
I nod my agreement. “I’ll trust that to you. Now let’s go.”
I lead the way out of the underground chamber. Glancing back on the way out, I see that Allura has done as I’d asked and shielded Morgan’s face.
I am the first to emerge above ground. I come to a sudden halt as I see what’s waiting for me.
Geordam and the guards have created a small buffer between the exit and themselves. But on the other side of the guards is a concentration of vampires, Incolam and Elite alike. There’s not a huge number of them, perhaps forty, tops, but it’s a sizable enough crowd to make me concerned.
“Geordam,” I hiss at the Captain Commander. “What is this?”
“They’ve been waiting for you, Eleira. They came to see the truth with their own eyes.”
“What truth?”
“That Morgan lives.”
I grunt. “Well, I told them as much, didn’t I? Give me a path to the crowd, Geordam. Let me address them.”
He nods at the guards at the front and flashes a hand signal. They march forward and fan out, leaving a space for me in the middle of them. I walk forward, as unconcerned as I can make myself seem, and catch murmurs from the vampires.
“Morgan’s survival means nothing! Eleira is our rightful Queen.”
“We need to start building up The Haven. We’ve been without blood for so long!”
“We should kill her. Kill the treacherous former Queen, who tried to steal the prophecy from Eleira!”
That last comment, overhead like this, makes me smile.
I reach the small space cleared for me. On impulse, I raise a small dais of Air that I step on. Before speaking, I look over my shoulder. Phillip is lounging by the exit, affecting a bored demeanor. He catches my eyes, and gives the most subtle of gestures to tell me the Forsaken Sisters are waiting inside.
“Haven vampires,” I begin. “I understand you wish to voice your concerns. However, Felix told me there is a proper form for this. I will call on a gathering of the
Royal Court in the days to come, and we will all listen to what you have to say. For now, I can spare only a few minutes. Why have you gathered? What are you here to see?”
My voice rings clear over the heads of the vampires. I quite like the power I command. I’m acutely aware of my strength relative to all of their strengths. The hierarchy does the rest.
“My Queen,” one of the Incolam steps forward. It is a short dark-haired woman with a stunning ivory complexion. The movements of her body are so graceful, it makes me think she was a dancer in her prior life. It is more than just the fluidity of a vampire—one so low, relatively, in the hierarchy, does not possess enough of the Gifts to flow through her surroundings like that.
“My Queen,” she repeats, after I acknowledge her. “We are most grateful for what you have done. Catastrophe after catastrophe you have averted. We would not be here were it not for you.”
I smile slightly, then motion for her to get on with it.
“We are grateful…” she says, “… but we are also hungry. We have not had a Hunt for weeks. We’ve been wounded, we have fought, and we have recovered. Most recently, of course, at the hands of those horrid awful white creatures.” She suppresses a shudder. “It is not so bad for the very strong, but the weaker amongst us have become starved for blood. The stores are gone, and we have no humans. By my estimate, this is the most important thing—not whether Morgan really still lives or not.”
Hushed gasps echo through the crowd. It’s only when I remember that the Incolam had only ever been allowed to refer to Morgan as “Queen” do I understand why.
“Thank you for that,” I say, as gently as I can. I think that is how a diplomat is supposed to sound. “And your concern is duly noted. What’s your name?”
“Anneliese,” she says.
“Anneliese,” I repeat. “How long would you say the Incolam can survive without feeding?”
“Survive?” she asks. “We could survive forever. But we would be greatly weakened, completely useless in such a state.”
“How much longer could you remain in your current state?” I ask, somewhat irritated. I try not to show it. “How long before the hunger becomes unbearable?”