by DB King
“I’m not going to give an account of myself to you,” Marcus said sternly. “If you will make a truce with me, I’ll accept it, and maybe we can work together. If not, I will summon monsters to this place that can destroy you, no matter how powerful you are. I want to know your story, but I will not hesitate to destroy you if you threaten me.”
Daya gestured at the champion she had just drained. “Can you summon more of them?” she asked.
Marcus nodded. “I can.”
“Prove it to me, and I will listen to what you have to say.”
Marcus shrugged. “Very well,” he said.
He aimed a hand to his left and called upon the spell. This time, the champion did not come from the gate. A cloud of black smoke appeared by the arena’s outer wall and the champion leaped from it, warhammer in hand. He roared out his battle cry and charged, hammer raised.
Daya laughed in delight. She stooped, picked up the head of her fallen enemy’s broken hammer, and flung it at the champion. Her strength was immense—the heavy hammerhead sailed through the air as if it had been no heavier than a pebble. It hit the champion in the head, crushing his helmet. He stopped where he stood, toppling forward.
The vampire woman grinned at him and Marcus couldn’t help but smile back.
“You’re certainly an impressive pair of fighters,” he said carefully. “Won’t you sit and talk with me? I feel like we could help each other if we tried.”
Daya smiled and sat in the sand, and Max did the same. When they were both seated, Marcus lowered himself warily to the ground as well, but he kept his silver dagger in his hand.
“So, Marcus,” Max said quietly. “What would you like to know?”
Marcus took a breath. Where to begin?
“Where is the third member of your group?” he asked.
“We don’t know,” Daya replied immediately. “He left almost as soon as we awoke. He was… an evil person. We’re glad to see him leave.”
Marcus glanced at the bloody wrecks of the fallen champions and gave the vampires a look.
Max frowned. “We are vampires, but we are not evil. Not all vampires wish others harm, and most are not vampires by choice. Many, once they realize what they are and what they must do to live, will deliberately walk into the sunlight and destroy themselves.”
“Tell me about yourselves,” Marcus suggested gently. “Where did you come from? Why are you here?”
“We are exiles,” Max said quietly. “Long ago—I don’t know exactly how long—there was a war in a place south of here, a place called the Isles of the Sun. The vampires had lived there in peace for a long time. We lived by feeding on the dying, who would come to us willingly and submit themselves to us to give us sustenance. They… they thought us sacred, magical. Some of them chose to become like us, immortal, blood drinkers. Others sacrificed the last of their lives and allowed us to drain them, sustaining us and stopping us from having to hunt like others of our kind did.”
“But there was a schism among the vampires,” Daya added. “A leader rose among us who wanted to take over the islands and rule the humans, using them for food—like cattle. We resisted, and there was war. The humans rose against us, killing any vampires because of the actions of some of our kind. It was a grim time. But as well as the vampires there were hybrids—humans crossed with vampires, who retained our strength and power, but none of our human sensibility and intelligence. There was one of us… one who came before us. Indeed, many believe him to be the first vampire. He called himself the Corsair, and he learned of a power that he could use to control the hybrids and use them as an army.”
Max took up the story. “The war was lost. The Sun Islanders had won and Daya and I fled the islands one night with a handful of our folk. We commandeered a ship and sailed north, landing here, on Kraken Island. The Thun—that was the name of the folk of the island—they took us in, but only after we landed did we realize that the Corsair had come with us. He had hidden in the hold of the ship, and now he came out raging and went on a killing spree in the towns of the Thun people. They turned on us, and killed many of us. We fled into the tunnels under the city and they came after us, pursuing us through the depths. We thought we were done for.”
“How did you escape?” Marcus asked.
Daya snorted. “We did not escape. We had not fed for a long, long time. When a vampire does not feed, she… shuts down. It’s a state that resembles death completely. I don’t know what happened. I assume that when they found us they thought we were dead, and whoever was in charge didn’t know enough about vampires to make doubly sure. Lucky for us, they decided to bury us in sealed lead coffins rather than burn us or stab us with silver.”
She looked away before turning back to Marcus. “We slept for a long, long time. I do not know how long. But then, we woke up. I don’t know what happened or why, but we woke up, and there was this feeling running through us. This intense, attractive power. It’s the same feeling I get from this place.” She gestured around herself. “This dungeon, as you call it.”
Marcus nodded. He was piecing it together. “Tell me,” he said. “Do you know exactly how long ago it was that you woke up?”
“Not exactly,” Max said, “because at first we were confused and only thought of feeding. But I think perhaps four, maybe six weeks have passed since we awoke.”
Just about the time when the dungeons first began to show signs of sentience, Marcus thought.
“I don’t know for sure,” he said, “but I think that it’s something to do with the dungeons. My dungeons have a powerful effect on their surroundings, and the timing is right. I think it’s the dungeons that have woken you up.”
“At first,” Daya said thoughtfully, “we were so hungry. We tore our way out of the coffins and left, all three of us.”
“All three of you?” Marcus prompted her.
She nodded and met his eyes with her red glowing gaze. “Yes,” she said, “it’s as you guess. The third of our party was none other than the Corsair himself.”
Marcus paused in thought. He raised his head and spoke, “Will you come with me, now, and work with me? This Corsair, I think he’s coming for me. I think he wants my dungeons. I don’t know for sure, but I think that if the dungeons can wake vampires, then the Corsair may want them for that reason. If you two escaped the war there may be others, perhaps many others, like you. Do you think that might be possible?”
Max nodded. “There were many vampires who fled during the last stages of the war. If they went to ground and did not feed, they would have gone to sleep as we did. There may even be more vampires still in the Isles of the Sun, or maybe in other lands nearby. If the Corsair gained the dungeons, he may be able to use their power to wake others, yes.”
“But you want to defeat him, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Daya said firmly. “He is no friend to us. It was his evil that raised the Sun Islanders against us. If it hadn’t been for him, we may have been able to continue to live in peace, carefully managing our needs. If you can provide us warriors to feed on within the dungeons then we will not have to hunt. It will keep your people safe and allow us to help you. I am willing to do that.”
“As am I,” Max agreed.
Marcus nodded.
“But tell us, dungeon master,” Max said, “are you one of the Thun people? When we came to Kraken Island, the place was covered in little towns and stone strongholds. The Thun were a prosperous but small people, but they were different from you. They didn’t look like you at all.”
Marcus shook his head. “I’m not a Thun. I’ve never heard the name until you mentioned it, and the island is different now. I think that you two have been asleep for a long time.”
“How… how long?” Max asked hesitantly.
Marcus shrugged. “I’m afraid I don’t know, but I think it’s been at least a hundred years. The wars of the Isles of the Sun are a long time ago, and Kraken Island is now occupied almost entirely by a single huge city, with trading li
nks throughout the known world. The Thun people are long gone, and only the ruins of their towns remain.”
He stood. “Come with me, now,” he said. “We’ll go back aboveground, and you will come with me to the castle where I live.”
Max glanced at Daya. “We cannot go out in the sunlight,” he said. “We must have a place underground where we can retreat to.”
“That’s not a problem,” Marcus said, smiling reassuringly. “Come on, it’s night up above and we can get back to the stronghold before daybreak. Let’s go.”
The vampires had nothing to bring with them. Despite their strangeness, he felt a little sorry for them, barefoot and dressed only in the rags they had been buried in a century or more ago. They came empty-handed, and were obviously afraid as he led them back through the Underway and out into the moonlit streets of the slums.
Marcus walked quickly, the vampires following him close behind. He stuck to the side streets, weaving his way past the silent building sites that awaited the workers who would begin again in the morning. It was completely dark, and by the position of the moon Marcus estimated that he had at least three hours before the first light of dawn would begin to color the sky.
They reached the edges of the slum without incident and crossed the flat, open mile of wasteland, heading for the stronghold. Lights burned in the squat tower, and the wind hissed over the plain as they walked in silence. The vampires looked back at the great bulk of Kraken City looming dark against the night sky and marveled.
“It’s changed so much since we last saw it,” Daya said quietly. “I’d never have thought it possible.”
As they approached the stronghold, Marcus saw a figure flitting across the plain nearby. He glanced at it. It was one of the wraiths that strayed through the Wasteland at times. These were old ghosts, strange beings which rarely interfered with the living. They were dressed in rags and had skulls for faces, and they carried the ghosts of long-lost swords in skeletal hands.
“That’s odd,” Marcus said, pointing. “That wraith seems to be following us.”
“There’s another,” Daya said, pointing away to the left. She was right, another… no, two more… had appeared on the left. They were moving as if to cut off Marcus’s route.
The vampires glanced at the sky, looking worried. There was perhaps an hour until dawn, but it was not far off.
“Keep moving,” Marcus said, “and if it attacks us, I’ll take the lead.”
They kept going in a straight line toward the stronghold, but more and more wraiths were gathering, following their route. As the stronghold walls loomed up before them, the wraiths closed in on them.
Marcus drew his sword and the vampires clenched their fists. What could these wraiths do? They were just spirits, empty of flesh, weren’t they? Marcus braced himself anyway as the nearest one approached.
It stopped, stared at him for a moment with its hollow eyes. It rushed him. Marcus raised his blade to catch a blow and, to his surprise, metal sang when their blades met. The wraith’s sword seemed to become solid as it touched Marcus’s blade.
The others swarmed up, their blades swinging. Marcus was facing a host of gray foes, their rusty blades swinging at him from every side.
Chapter 16
“Fleetfoot!” he cried, feeling the spell take effect. The vampires fought too, and when their fists connected with the wraiths, the ghostly creatures took on solid form. The vampires fought fiercely, back-to-back, but even their incredible strength could only deal with one wraith at a time.
Spell: Fleetfoot Level 2
Level increase: 10%
Progress to next level: 34%
Marcus flew through the crowd, slashing left and right and feeling his sword crack through bone and rusty plate. More wraiths were coming up from the mists of the Wasteland, more than he had ever seen at once.
There were shouts from the stronghold walls, and lights blazed out from the battlements.
“It’s Marcus!” he heard someone shout. The gates to the stronghold thudded open and a group charged out.
Kairn was in the lead, with Anja and Ben at his side. Marcus had drawn his mace and was fighting two-handed, while the vampires were circling him, trying to keep the wraiths from closing on him from behind.
Sweat dripped from his brow as he fought. The knot of fighters from the stronghold crossed the sixty yards from the gates at a run and crashed into the wraiths’ flank with a great shout.
“To me!” Marcus shouted. “Rally to me!”
As he shouted, he pressed toward the gates, trying to link up with his allies from the stronghold. With Max on one side and Daya on the other, he carved a swathe through the wraiths and came face-to-face with Kairn.
“Back! Back to the stronghold!” he shouted, and the fighters rallied around him and retreated toward the gates.
“Arrows!” The shout came from the walls, and immediately a volley of fire-arrows lit up the sky, peppering the wraiths. Each wraith that was touched by flame exploded like a taper into flame, and the burning wraiths crashed about through their fellows, setting the others on fire. Confusion rippled through them, and their attack faltered.
Marcus and his allies had almost reached the gate. Marcus heard a trumpet blast from his right. He looked over, and terror shot through him. A great wedge of cavalry was thundering across the flat ground toward him. The horses were armored, but under their armor they were skeletons. Red flames burned in their eyes and mouths, and armored wights rode on their backs with long lances lowered to charge.
“In!” Marcus yelled. “Inside! Close the gates!”
Just before the cavalry were about to crash into them, they gained the gate and the guards slammed it closed behind them. As the gates closed, Marcus caught a glimpse of the cavalry wedge peeling off and riding around in a circle as the ghostly foot soldiers gave back, retreating.
“They’re leaving!” a guard on the battlements called. “They’re retreating!”
A cheer went up around him, but Marcus looked up at the sky. It was lightening, and the first glimmer of dawn was making the eastern sky pale.
“Well,” Kairn said, pulling off his helmet and looking the vampires up and down. “Who are your new friends, Marcus? They can certainly fight! Welcome!”
He smiled at the newcomers, but Max and Daya were looking up at the sky and beginning to quake with fear.
“I’ll explain later,” Marcus told Kairn. “I need to get them underground, now.”
The dwarf hesitated for a moment, but leaped to obey. “Follow me,” he said, barging through the crowd. “Make way! Make way!”
The crowd parted to let them through, and they ran at full speed though the courtyard and down the steps to the dungeon lobby. At one side there was a small gap in the wall, and beyond that, a narrow stair that led down into the lower levels.
“That was too close for comfort,” Daya said. She looked shaken. “I… Marcus, Max and I need to sleep now. We have fed, and now we have to rest.”
Marcus looked at them both and nodded. There was a small chamber off of the stairway that they used for storage.
“Uh, will this do?” he asked. They both nodded. Max swayed on his feet, and got down on the ground, his sister beside him.
They lay on the ground next to each other, flat on their backs with their arms at their sides. “Thank you,” Max murmured. “Give us a day, a night, and a day, and we will wake again.”
Marcus retreated from the chamber. The two vampires had closed their eyes and lay perfectly still, looking for all the world like two corpses stretched out for burial. If they breathed, Marcus could not see it.
He closed the door quietly behind him. Kairn was staring at him wide-eyed and open-mouthed. “Marcus,” he whispered. “Who… what are they?”
“Come with me upstairs,” Marcus said wearily. “I have a lot to tell you.”
It took Marcus quite a while to explain the whole tale to his friends. They sat in the study, Marcus at his desk and Dirk, Anja, B
en, Ella, and Kairn all crowded into the small room with him. Food was brought for them and Hammer the dog joined them as they ate.
By the time Marcus had finished the story the dawn had turned to full morning, and despite his magical strength, Marcus was tired. The appearance of the vampires had given everyone a lot to think about.
“It’s good that the killings will stop now,” Dirk said, “and excellent that you’re able to provide a source of food to the vampires that doesn’t involve the killing of innocents.”
“It certainly sounds like they could be useful allies,” Anja said, “but I can’t pretend I’m not wary of them. Vampires…” she shuddered. “They have a bad name in the Isles of the Sun, and it’s hard for me to accept the idea of vampires as allies.”
Kairn frowned. “But it sounds as if they have no reason to fight us, and that they want to defeat this Corsair as much as we do. What’s wrong with that, I ask you?”
Anja laughed. “I know, it’s silly, isn’t it? But I can’t help it. I just feel that way, and I can’t change it all at once.”
“Hmm. I suppose I can understand that. I feel the same about orcs.”
“What I want to know,” Ella put in, “is why those wraiths attacked you. You’ve lived in the Underway for years, and you’ve never had any trouble from the wraiths when crossing the Wasteland. Why now?”
“I’d like to know that, too,” Ben said. He sat in a chair, contemplatively running a whetstone along the curved edge of his war axe. “I’ve never seen foes like that before. It was as if they had been given some new power. The way they became solid when I hit them…” he shuddered. “And that cavalry! I’ve never known wasteland wraiths to have cavalry like that, have you, Marcus?”
Marcus shook his head. “Never. I would also like to know what that was all about, but not now. Now, friends, I need to rest.”
They all rose and made their way out, still talking about the wraiths. Everyone left but Ella and Hammer.