by Eva Brandt
A female leprechaun shot me a wide-eyed look and wrung her hands. “No, we won’t! You need to—”
Before she could finish her sentence, the flock of sheep lunged forward. I set aside all thoughts of conversation and focused on the battle. The dark power inherent to a strigoi’s nature responded to my summons even more easily than it had before, and a shield of black magic manifested between the sheep and me. The strange creatures barreled straight into it, withering away in an instant as their bodies made contact with the necromantic energies.
For a few seconds, I rejoiced in the success of my plan. Unfortunately, my satisfaction was short-lived. The sheep’s ashes landed on the other side of the shield, and as soon as they made contact with the floor, they started to glow. Under my horrified eyes, the flock reformed, this time even more numerous than before.
What the fuck?
In an instinctive, panicked response, I tried again, and the result was just as bad as the first time. The sheep passed through my magic, dissipated into ash, and were promptly reborn seconds later. The third time, I tried a more discreet approach and attempted to only wither away parts of their bodies. The sheep shook off the spell like it was nothing. Finally, I attempted to bend their will to mine.
Animals should have been susceptible to vampiric thrall, especially when it came from a living strigoi. But these were no common animals, and my thrall hit a brick wall, almost as if the minds of the sheep were non-existent. They were just like revenants, extensions of the original summoner, and their presence made it impossible for me to reach the first green lamb.
“What in the world is this thing?”
The question escaped my lips without me intending to ask it, so I didn’t expect to receive a response. One of the leprechauns decided to answer, nonetheless. “It is The Vegetable Lamb of Tartary. Trying to kill it here is a recipe for disaster. It feeds off the life energies of The Realm of Eternal Youth. You’ll never beat it.”
Yeah, I could see that. The damn green lamb was worse than a hydra. At least with hydras, you only had to deal with eight heads, not hundreds, and as long as you came up with a coherent strategy, you had a good chance to defeat your opponent. Maybe I would’ve managed to do the same with the lamb, but I didn’t have enough time at my disposal. The sheep were only a few feet away from me now, and I couldn’t devise a plan of action on such short notice. Continuing to use my necromantic magic would’ve been folly, since repeating the same action and expecting a different result was the definition of insanity.
“Can’t you... flash us out of here?” I asked the leprechauns. I had no idea if they had another name for their method of transportation, but in the end, it didn’t really matter.
The little creatures shook their heads. “It can follow us into the magic,” the female I’d spoken with earlier explained, shivering. “It’s done that before, with a sprite. It did not end well for her.”
Well, shit. That didn’t sound good at all.
“The only person who can ever tame the lamb when it’s like this is Queen Eiar,” another leprechaun offered. “We have to find her.”
Now that was a plan I could be on board with. “Got it.”
Ignoring the infuriated bleating of the sheep, I closed my eyes and sought out the essence of the queen. Magical tracking was a difficult process, especially when you didn’t know a person very well. However, the taste and feel of Eiar’s essence had stuck with me. If she was nearby, I’d track her down.
As it turned out, accomplishing my goal was far easier than I’d expected. Eiar was only a few doors down, so close that I had to wonder why the leprechauns hadn’t sensed her. Maybe they didn’t have such abilities. More importantly, I should have felt her myself, especially since she appeared to be in the same room as Baltasar and Cezar.
I was losing my touch. I blamed the stupid green lamb.
“You’re not going anywhere, outsider,” the sheep bleated in a chorus that reminded me a little of the last time the Grand Lich had made his revenants sing our national anthem. “Tartarus will consume you all.”
“Yeah, whatever,” I replied. I grabbed the shoulder of one of the leprechauns and shoved him in the right direction. “She’s in that room. Go. I’ll keep the lamb at bay.”
For good or ill, my magic did provide us with a delay, enough at least that we were able to make our way to the room in question without being trampled by a flock of rabid, green sheep. It wasn’t an ideal method, and honestly, my dignity might never recover. I’d take it. Those sheep creatures might have looked like herbivores, but they were definitely capable of doing damage, and I had no desire to go through the process of being put back together or worse, resurrected. It would be tedious as fuck, and I’d never hear the end of it.
The success of my strategy meant that I wouldn’t have to suffer through such an undignified process. As we burst into the room, though, I had to face something entirely different, a sight that was almost as shocking as the green lamb.
I didn’t know what I’d expected upon coming here. Finding Queen Eiar interrogating my friends again, maybe? I hadn’t gotten the chance to think too much about it, but even if I had, this option would’ve never occurred to me. Apparently, while I’d been busy being hunted by a flock of mutant sheep, Cezar and Baltasar had somehow managed to insinuate themselves in the queen’s confidence enough that she was allowing them to feed on her.
Traitors. How could they just leave me bound in my cell while they happily embraced the pleasures Queen Eiar offered?
Wait... What was I thinking? I had decided I would not fall in this trap the second time. I had learned my lesson after Queen Eiar had drugged me. Hadn’t I? But on the other hand, why would the queen even give my friends her blood if she was our enemy? Was this another enchantment, perhaps involving some kind of blood magic? No, that wasn’t possible. Even assuming that she had such skills—which seemed unlikely considering what I knew of the powers of the avatars of the seasons—any blood magic user would have used the life essence of their captives, not their own.
What in the world was going on? Grand Lich help me, it would have been so much easier to figure out an answer to that question had her delicious scent not sent me into a near frenzy. “Who cares about her reasons?” an increasingly loud part of me insisted. “You’re missing out because you’re standing there like an idiot. If she agreed to feed them, she might agree to feed you too.”
The thought almost made me throw all caution to the wind and join my friends on the bed. Unfortunately, I’d been so caught up in my surprise, confusion, and desire that I’d forgotten the reason why I’d come here, to begin with.
My green-wooled nemesis proceeded to remind me when it burst into the room after me, roaring, “The Vegetable Lamb... will send you all to Tartarus!”
As the lamb spoke, its copies manifested by its side, crowding around their creator to form a massive, woolly ball of hostility and incomprehensible magic. I could already feel my migraine returning out of sheer exasperation. At this point, the whole thing had become so irritating and ridiculous that I no longer even cared that the lamb could kill me. I glowered at the creature with all my might. “Vampires don’t go to Tartarus, you idiotic sheep. We’re undead.”
The flock of sheep glowered right back at me, but the original version was the only one who provided a reply. “I’m sure I can—”
Queen Eiar’s familiar voice cut the lamb off before it could finish its sentence. “Veggie? What is going on?”
The demeanor of the whole flock instantly changed. All of the sheep jerked, letting out startled bleats. Some of them even tripped over their own hooves in surprise. “Q-Queen Eiar,” the original lamb stammered. “Pardon the interruption. I didn’t realize you were here.”
I would have deemed that surprising, but apparently, magical sheep couldn’t see any better than their mundane counterparts. Since Eiar had been seated between Cezar and Baltasar’s larger bodies, the lamb had genuinely not noticed her presence.
I barely ma
naged to suppress the stupid and sudden urge to cackle. Seeing the lamb so flustered shouldn’t have satisfied me so much, but being in The Land of Eternal Youth was having detrimental effects on my sanity. The leprechauns seemed to be enjoying the sight as well, and the female actually giggled. But I was not a leprechaun, damn it. I was a vampire, and I was supposed to be a little more dignified than this.
Eiar slid out of the bed and gracefully smoothed her ruffled gown. “What seems to be the problem?” she asked. “What has upset so?”
“It was nothing in particular, Your Majesty,” one of the leprechauns piped up with a tiny smirk. “He started to graze on Luntian’s tobacco again.”
“I see.” Eiar frowned and pursed her lips at the lamb in a disapproving expression that almost made me feel bad for the green zoophyte. “What were you even doing there? I told you those plants are bad for you.”
The lamb hung his head, looking well and utterly distraught. “We received word of what had occurred while we were in Floria, so Lieutenant April said she thought we needed to go visit Luntian. I didn’t really understand why. I’m sorry, Your Majesty. I disobeyed you.”
Eiar let out a heavy sigh. On silent footsteps, she made her way toward the flock of sheep. As she passed me by, I couldn’t help but tense up. I knew she could defend herself perfectly well, and the lamb seemed obedient now, but was it really a good idea for her to approach it? The creature could still be volatile and dangerous. Yes, the leprechauns had said that she was the only one who could handle it, but I had no proof that their words were true.
Instinctively, I reached out and took hold of her arm. “Wait. Your Majesty, the beast isn’t safe to approach. You should keep your distance.”
Eiar stopped and stared at my hand like it was an alien thing. I flinched, realizing just how rude and presumptuous my actions had been.
Slowly, I released my hold on her arm. “My apologies. I didn’t mean to offend you. I am simply... concerned.”
Eiar’s beautiful brown eyes met mine and she shot me a quick, tight smile. There was a shadow in her gaze, something I couldn’t understand, but I still wanted to wipe away. “Don’t worry,” she said. “Veggie would never hurt me. I’m sure he was only doing what he thought was best, and the whole incident was an accident. Isn’t that right, Veggie?”
When she turned toward the lamb, her smile widened and grew more honest. Instantly, the zoophyte perked up. “Yes, Your Majesty. Of course, Your Majesty. I would never hurt you, Your Majesty.”
The copies vanished, turning into leaves and grass that slid back into its wool, making the original sheep even fluffier than it had been before. “I’m very loyal to you, Your Majesty,” it added, its voice now a little muffled by the extra wool that ended up growing all over its face.
Queen Eiar glided to the lamb’s side and knelt next to it. “I know that, Veggie. I know. You didn’t hurt anyone, did you?”
The lamb trotted in place in agitation. “Not really, no. Everyone ran away as soon as they saw me.”
Queen Eiar nodded, not seeming very surprised by this. “Well then, no harm done. You’re all right, and we’ll be more careful in the future.”
As she buried her hand in its plant-like wool and it curled affectionately against her chest, I couldn’t help but wish I was in the lamb’s shoes. Err... Hooves. Grand Lich help me, I was really losing it. But on the bright side, my friends didn’t look like they were doing much better. We’d landed ourselves in an insane realm we didn’t understand, but at least we were in it together.
I really hoped Cezar and Baltasar would be able to make things a little clearer for me because otherwise, I might very well go on a rampage worse than the lamb’s and do something we would all regret.
Five
Surprises
Eranthe
Having grown up in a family that could’ve been described as at least unconventional, I could safely say that I was accustomed to surprises. In fact, I enjoyed them. Surprises were refreshing, like a taste of life at its finest, always an offer to build something new and special.
That being said, I’d had my fair share of unfortunate surprises as well. Snegurka’s attacks were perhaps the most eloquent examples. As such, as much as I liked surprises, I’d also seen enough to know that they needed to be handled with care.
My lieutenants’ sudden decision to head toward one of my garrisons didn’t make me very happy, and neither did the earlier fight between Cezar and my subordinates. Was it unreasonable and naive of me to chastise March for her approach? Maybe it was. After all, I could hardly expect us to start making nice with our undead visitors, especially not since I myself hadn’t been very kind to them. It had never occurred to me that using my nectar could affect the health of an undead being to such an extent. Their biology was more different from mine than I’d thought.
This was getting ridiculous and I needed to take charge of the situation properly. I was dealing with the recent developments in Chronikos all wrong, but complaining about it would not help me. Perhaps it had been overly ambitious to hope that a conversation with my lieutenants could wait until I dealt with Snegurka. I needed to communicate with them better. If we kept being divided like this, we’d be easy pickings should the former queen of Tou Cheimóna decide to attack.
As I hugged and petted Veggie, I did my best to not let any of my thoughts and restlessness show. Veggie was already upset. He didn’t need any extra stress on top of that. For the moment, what mattered was that his little episode hadn’t resulted in any injuries, which could have easily not been the case, considering how bad this particular fit of Veggie’s had been.
I released Veggie from my embrace and slowly got up. “Why don’t we go to the orchards now, Veggie? You need some rest.”
My poor lamb nodded. “That would probably be best, Your Majesty.”
Turning toward the other people in the room, I debated my options. I couldn’t leave Veggie alone, not now. In his condition, he might wander off again and cause more unwilling mischief. On the other hand, I still needed to figure out what to do about my undead guests.
I’d botched that so badly already I had the urge to retreat into The Eternal Orchards and hide just like Veggie was supposed to.
But I was a queen, and queens did not hide, even when they made mistakes. So instead, I put on my best smile and said, “Gentlemen, why don’t you join Veggie and me on a walk? I believe we have a conversation pending.”
The three vampires shared a look I couldn’t hope to interpret. “We would be honored, Your Majesty,” Cezar said. “Thank you for your generosity.”
The comment was probably sarcastic since I didn’t think I’d been all that generous with them. Nonetheless, I didn’t mention it. Instead, I took advantage of the occasion to solve the not so minor issue I’d forgotten about. I waved a hand in Cezar’s direction, summoning my magic to my aid. Soft vines popped up from the ground, turning into smooth textile threads as they made contact with his body. It took some concentration to wrap them all around Cezar, especially considering the aroused noise he let out, but I was determined and persevered.
Truth be told, I knew it was probably not the best idea to dress Cezar using this method. However, every other option would take too long and might have detrimental effects on my ability for rational thought. “Until further notice, I hope this will suffice as clothing.” Without waiting for a reply from Cezar, I turned toward my leprechauns. “Maeven, would you mind preparing some actual garments for our guests?”
The leprechaun in question happily nodded. While their preference lay heavily with making footwear, most of the little sprites enjoyed the challenge of venturing into fashion. Maeven was particularly creative and had been talking about putting together an actual fashion line for years. It was ironic that it had taken the arrival of three handsome undead for me to actually listen to her and value clothing a little more.
“I’d love to, Your Majesty,” she replied.
“Excellent.” After giving
my faithful servant an approving nod of my own, I turned my attention to the vampires once again. “Gentlemen, if you please... Come with me.”
They wordlessly complied, and together, we left the room. To say the walk was awkward would’ve been the understatement of the century. Veggie trotted by my side, visibly ignoring the three vampires. They followed us in silence, and I could feel their gazes burning into my back. From time to time, Adrian and Cezar’s restless magic stirred and reached out toward me, and I tried not to get distracted by it, forcing myself to remember that I needed to preserve at least a modicum of professionalism.
Mercifully, our destination wasn’t very far from the guest wing. Well, it was, but I took a shortcut and made the palace open up a secondary route for me. The walls of my home responded to my magic just as easily as everything else did in The Land of Eternal Youth, and within minutes, we were out of the building and headed toward the orchards.
Veggie’s personal section was sealed off and protected from intruders in deference to his special circumstances. A wall of greenery blocked the entrance to his lot, one that I alone could remove. The leaves and vines obediently slithered away as soon as I walked within view, revealing the winding path that led deeper into the secret heart of The Eternal Orchards.
As we entered the planting lot, I half-expected Veggie to tell the vampires to leave. He didn’t. Instead, he continued to ignore them and carefully started looking around, searching for the ideal spot. I patiently waited until he declared himself satisfied and plopped down onto an apparently random patch of grass. “Ready?”
Veggie nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
I didn’t have to be told twice. I summoned my magic once again, and upon my call, a long, thick stem sprung from the ground. It connected to Veggie’s belly and held him up, rooting him to the soil and anchoring him in a way nothing ever could. The process took a little while to finalize, as Veggie’s body needed to adapt to being mostly a plant again, and that involved a fundamental change in his biology. It worked perfectly, though, and by the time it was complete, his wool had bloomed, blood-red roses sprouting from the green of his leaves.