Blood Queen

by David Horrocks

  The threat of their camp being discovered was all too real, and so the group kept back behind the tree cover to avoid being spotted. A silhouette against the night sky would be enough to alert the enemy to their presence, so they had to stay low and use the rolling hills to hide their movements. Fortunately, most vampires never left the city's limits, their fear of the wild an ever present concern. That fear was a lasting legacy that had been left behind by Vincent and his pack, as most still believed that werewolves lurked in the forest. It was a legend that had been kept alive despite there being no actual sightings in a very long time. However, most immortals weren't brave enough to venture out far enough to uncover the truth, the tales of hulking beasts enough to instill a lasting terror that clung to their cold, dead veins.

  Everyone within the camp had been too preoccupied to notice Sam sneaking off under the silver light of the moon. He had slipped away as they carefully planned a scouting patrol, all of them far too busy discussing the finer points of stealth to notice that he was gone. It was ironic really, as while they were talking about moving undetected through the woods, he used their own tactics against them and slowly crept out of sight.

  Sam was taking a big risk by heading out on his own, although he really wasn't trying to escape. He wasn't naive enough to believe that he could get away, knowing full well that any of them could track him down with ease. However, after everything that had happened, he just needed a few minutes to himself; just a moment of peace away from the constant arguing over what had to be done to disrupt Katherine's hold over the city and when they had to do it.

  The voices grew quieter as Sam moved deeper into the woods, and it wasn't long before he couldn't hear them at all. They hadn't been yelling, as they weren't foolish enough for that, but their disputes were more than loud enough when most other conversations had been limited to a whisper. Finally feeling a small sense of freedom, Sam pushed on through the trees, his footsteps leaving their mark in the thin layer of snow. There was a bitter cold that would make any mortal shiver, but he barely felt the breeze upon his dead skin. He didn't feel much of anything anymore except the pain that wracked his body throughout his waking hours. That was enough for now, as at least that meant that he still felt something. Unfortunately, that pain threatened to become the only thing left that had any real meaning in his miserable existence.

  At least ten minutes or so passed by as Sam continued to wander further into the wilderness with no sight nor sound of pursuit. He began to wonder why no one had come for him, as they must have noticed that he was gone by now. They could still be squabbling for all he knew and hadn't yet noticed his disappearing act, or perhaps they just didn't care that he had left. Who was he to think that he held some sort of importance to them? He was Forsaken after all and not worthy of their attention, or so he had been reminded of time and time again. There was no way that they would risk their own survival to bring him back to the camp, unless they believed that he could give away their position. If that was the case, then they didn't know him at all. Sam wasn't a traitor, even to those to whom he had no loyalty. He would never betray anyone to someone so cruel as Katherine Louviere.

  Finding himself surrounded by unfamiliar trees, Sam didn't feel as though he was lost, but he also didn't know where he was going. He pushed through a particularly dense row of foliage, the twigs and leaves making his skin itchy as they brushed against him. It only took a few seconds to make it through the natural barrier, but the other side felt as though he had entered a different world entirely. He found himself in a small circular clearing where a large boulder lay central to the birch trees that bordered it on all sides. It was a quiet little haven that he could claim for himself while he waited to see if anyone came looking for him.

  Climbing up onto the rock, Sam took a seat and made himself as comfortable as he possibly could. It was a secluded and pleasant little place that he had found himself in, just him and nature, with no one else around to disturb the peace. However, the longer that he sat there, the more he realised that he might actually be lost after all. He was no longer sure if he had left the camp because he truly wanted to be alone, or because he needed to know if anyone actually cared that he was gone. His self esteem was now at an all time low, with more enemies than friends, and his only other allies those who treated him as if he were nothing. It was selfish really, leaving the group to wander the wilderness alone, but he was getting tired of not knowing his worth.

  A sudden flutter of movement interrupted Sam's train of thought, his eyes darting over to the low hanging branch of a nearby tree. Upon its bark sat a large black bird, its feathers ruffled and untamed. It was too big to be a crow, its wings far too large to belong to something so common. Sam wasn't sure, but he thought that it looked like a raven, its crooked beak and sharp talons making it appear more sinister than any bird that he had ever seen before. It silently watched him from a distance, beady eyes staring as if it was waiting for him to notice it.

  There was something about the way the raven looked at Sam that made him feel uncomfortable. He wanted to be alone and didn't want the company of anyone, a pesky bird included, so he tried to scare it off. "Quit staring at me! Shoo!" Sam yelled at the raven, but it wasn't even startled, instead inclining its head in apparent confusion.

  Becoming increasingly annoyed by the creepy looking bird, Sam decided to try and scare it again, waving his arms wildly as he jumped down from the boulder and ran towards it screaming. "Get away from me!"

  The raven was unfazed by Sam's actions and remained upon its perch. It blinked once and tilted its head to the other side, its black eyes still staring.

  "Go away!" Sam yelled again as he jumped up and down frantically, no longer caring if anyone found him there. He was feeling frustrated by how he had been treated over the past few nights and had to blow off some steam, directing his anger towards a creature that had no idea why he was acting in such a peculiar manner.

  The raven cawed as if it was answering Sam's call, but it still refused to budge. It merely sat there and continued to watch him, its stubborn defiance taunting him as if to say that he wasn't a threat to anyone or anything. If a mere bird could stand up to him, then what hope did he have of facing anyone else, never mind someone as powerful as the Blood Queen.

  "Stupid bird…" Sam grumbled as he kicked a nearby stone.

  As if to mock him further, the raven cawed again, flapping its wings a couple of times before settling down once more. Sam felt as though it was laughing at him, his own pitiful existence a joke to something so stupid as a simple bird. For some reason he hated it, not just because it wasn't scared of him, but because of how helpless it made him feel. He had been defeated by a creature much smaller than him in size and the thought of that made him feel worse than ever before.

  A voice whispered in Sam's mind, but it wasn't one that he had heard before; this was someone new. Someone who hadn't been killed as a result of his past mistakes. "Do you make a habit of shouting at defenseless birds, little one?"

  Sam almost jumped out of his skin, the origin of the whispers nowhere to be seen. He searched the tree line, turning on the spot as he tried to find out where they were coming from, but his efforts were in vain.

  "The raven is an omen. You cannot chase it away any more than you can avoid your own destiny." The voice spoke again, its words projecting directly into his head.

  "Who's there?" Sam demanded, his own tone one of puzzlement.

  The whispers didn't reply right away, the lack of response leaving Sam perplexed. It was then that he noticed the bird had gone, leaving him alone in the clearing with no one else in sight. He wasn't sure whether it had flown off or if it had vanished into thin air, but he felt as though he had been abandoned. His self pity pushed its way to the surface, his chaotic emotions in conflict with his rational mind.

  Just as Sam began to believe that he was well and truly on his own, the whispers came again, however this time they were close behind him. "You are not lost, Samuel I
saac Mitchell; you are exactly where you need to be. Where you were always destined to be."

  Startled by the sudden appearance, Sam span around to confront the mysterious stranger and found himself face to face with a woman who looked familiar, yet different to someone who he had met as a child. She was the red robed witch of the woods, the dread that he had once felt returning to him as though it had never left. Who was she and why was she here? How did she know his name? How did she know that he was lost? He froze on the spot, his limbs refusing to move, a lump forming in his throat. In that moment he knew that he was trapped and that there was no hope of escape.

  Black scraggly hair poked out from beneath a hood that was pulled down so low that it covered all but the witches mouth and chin, her skin pallid and unhealthy looking. Hands so thin that they looked almost skeletal protruded from her sleeves, the rest of her figure hidden beneath her loose fitting robes. In the same manner as Queen Renita Marquette, this woman was impossible to identify, but her whispers reached every corner of Sam's mind, making her difficult to ignore.

  Sam barely managed to speak, his mouth struggling to carry out even the simplest of tasks. "Who… Who are you?"

  The witch's voice seemed to come from multiple directions as she replied, each word attacking Sam from a different angle. "My name is Morgana. That is all you need know."

  "...What do you want with me?" Sam asked as he fought against his own failing body.

  "That is not the right question." The red witch's voice continued to stab at him from every side. "What you should have asked is why you sought me out in these ancient woods. Are you ready to pay the price?"

  Sam was confused. He didn't even know that Morgana existed, so how could he have been seeking her in the first place? And what was this price that she spoke of? Perhaps she had him confused with someone else, someone who shared the exact same name, but that was extremely unlikely. For whatever reason, she had appeared before him and seemed to be expecting something in return.

  "Maybe." Sam pushed the words out, his lips feeling numb. "It depends… It depends on what the price is and... and what you're offering in return."

  Morgana's arms hung by her side as she stood there motionless. It was as if the disembodied voice and the person standing before him were two separate entities. "Answers are what you seek, and answers are what I offer. You wish to know why you have been forsaken when you are a member of such a powerful bloodline. The Blood Queen is strong, yet your blood is weak."

  "...Tell me." Sam urged, his own body as unmoving as the witch's. He felt paralysed, his mind trapped within a prison of flesh and bone.

  The whispers continued, their pattern slower and less erratic than before. "You were already cursed before that fateful night when you were reborn as Katherine's child. The thin blood of the Forsaken was required. A deed was done, a deal struck, and you were what became of it. You are the key to everything."

  “The key to everything?” Sam didn't know exactly what that meant, but it had to be the reason that Katherine wanted him dead. Perhaps it was the reason that she wanted to kill all those who were part of her bloodline. She had somehow discovered that one amongst them would be her downfall, but she had no way of telling who it would be. All those who stood against Katherine were to be destroyed, except for Alice who for some reason was precious to her and Sam doubted that it was just because of her unique powers.

  The part that confused Sam the most was how someone so weak and pathetic as himself could be the answer to the problem; it was hard to believe that he was a solution to anything. If he was the key, whatever Morgana had meant by that, then what lock was he supposed to open? None of it made sense to him. Was there something about his specific curse, his thin blood, that could be used against Katherine somehow? There was no way that he could possibly be that important. The witch was clearly mistaken, someone else had to be this so called 'key'.

  It finally occurred to Sam that there had been an underlying tone behind Morgana's words. She had hinted, ever so subtly, that she knew more about how he came to be Forsaken than she was letting on. It came as no surprise that she hadn't been particularly forthcoming and that there was more to the tale than she had shared with him so far.

  "Who cursed me? Why?" Sam demanded with suspicion in his voice, sounding far less strained than he had before. He was determined to know more about his origins and what had happened to him the day that he died. He needed to know what had been done to him.

  Morgana moved for the first time since her appearance as she slowly raised her arms out to each side, her whispered words ominous and full of apathy. "The answer stands before you."

  Sam could feel that she was telling the truth, the sudden realisation of who she was hitting him like a punch to the gut. The witch was amongst those responsible for ruining his life and was almost as much to blame for his misfortune than Katherine herself. The rage that he felt broke his mind free of its cage, allowing him to regain control of his body without him even realising it.

  "You did this to me?!?" Sam yelled, taking a step towards the witch as he clenched his fists in exasperation. "Why?!? Why did you do it?!?"

  Morgana was unperturbed by his sudden burst of aggression, as if she had allowed him to break free of her control. The whispers came from her mouth this time, the movement of her thin lips barely visible. "All will be revealed in time."

  Sam held back, the beast inside of him in danger of lashing out. "When?!?" His shouting had turned to pleading, the desperation that he felt taking over.

  Another voice called out from somewhere in the trees nearby, drawing Sam's attention away from the red witch for just a second. "I've found him! This way!" It was Rahna. She had come to bring him back to the camp and from the sound of it, she hadn't come alone.

  Sam questioned Morgana again, his time quickly running out. "Why am I so important? What's my purpose? I have to know!"

  Before the witch could speak she was interrupted by the rustling of leaves, the sounds of Rahna's aggravation close behind. "Who the hell are you speaking to?" She demanded answers as she strode out from the tree line, causing Sam to look in her direction.

  Gesturing towards Morgana, he tried to explain himself. "I'm just talking to…" Sam cut his sentence short as he looked back towards where the witch had been standing to see that the space that she had occupied was now empty. He looked around frantically, but she was nowhere to be seen, his disbelief plastered across his face. The woman in red had vanished in the same manner that she had appeared, leaving no trace of her passing.

  "Who?" Rahna looked as annoyed as she sounded, her nose twitching as she sniffed the air. "There's nothing here."

  "No one…" Sam muttered somewhat dejectedly, feeling like he had been made a fool. "I'm just talking to myself."

  Rahna rushed forwards and grabbed him by the arm, her sharp nails digging into his skin. "You fucking idiot! You really think you can get away from us?" She growled, her dark eyes narrowing.

  Sam shook his head, not wanting to risk aggravating her any further. He already knew that he was in trouble and didn't want to tempt her wrath.

  "Come on then." Rahna yanked him back towards the edge of the clearing from where she had entered. "Vincent wants to see you."

  Resigning to his fate, Sam followed his captor as he began to wonder whether or not he had been seeing things after all. He had almost convinced himself that he was losing his mind by the time they reached the tree line, his self doubt causing him to believe that none of it could be real. However, just before he could be dragged back through the branches, he heard the familiar sound of the raven's call.

  Sam craned his neck to look back at the tree where the bird had first appeared, and sure enough he saw it there upon the branch. It was then that he knew for sure that it had all been real; the raven's taunting, the red hooded witch, and the revelations that had followed. He severely doubted that anyone else would believe what had happened, but that didn't matter now he knew that he was of some sort of
importance. Somehow he was the one that was destined to end the rule of the Blood Queen, the only problem being that he didn't know how.

  Morgana may have had a hand in turning Sam into the wretch that he was, but if that meant that he could save his best friend from Katherine's clutches, it might just be worth it. Somehow he knew that it wouldn't be the last time that they would meet, he could feel it in his bones. He would see the witch again at some point in the future, for better or for worse.

  Chapter Twelve: An Unlikely Role Model

  It had been so long since they had last seen each other face to face that Alice had almost forgotten that she ever had any pleasant memories of Katherine. Sure, it had all been a lie, but at the time she was happy in the belief that she had found a mentor she could truly rely on. She had been lured in by the woman's charm, soon becoming convinced that she was a selfless person, generous benefactor and most of all a good friend. Many a night they had sat for hours in Katherine's parlour, discussing all manner of subjects from history to theology and the finer points of their own morality.

  There was one such occasion that stood out amongst them all, a particular lesson that Katherine had imparted on an unusually quiet night where nothing else of note had occurred. Alice didn't know why the memory had come to her now, but she could still recall it like it happened yesterday. She would never forget the penthouse apartment with its view of downtown Calgary, lavishly decorated with both contemporary furniture and modern art. It was the most expensive place that she had ever stayed in, with old farms and townhouses unable to hold a candle to a multi-million dollar living space that only the most successful could afford.