by Emma Glass
I dove ahead of them, wishing I had something greater at hand for this fight than a single broadsword. The beast swung a clawed paw the size of my chest but missed. After the last fight with one of you, I know how to handle your tricks.
The chamber was barely spacious enough for the beast to slither in; covered in shaggy, burnt orange fur, ending in several meters of snake and a malevolent rattle-tail, it was a hellish corruption of a feral lynx. There was nothing else in all of Stonehold anything like this murderous creature.
It swiped at me again as I dodged, showing off spiked protrusions making a mohawk down its back. I shoved the edge of my sword towards its face; it leered backwards in a venomous glare, watching me with piercing feline eyes.
“But really. What is that thing?” Chandra shrieked.
The voice of my vassal rose over the heavy breathing of my greatest nightmare in bestial form. “It’s a tatzelwurm.”
Everyone in my entourage already knew this, if not at mere sight, then by sheer reputation.
I killed one of you before… down in the darkest depths of a chrysm mine. You nearly murdered my entire garrison of royal guards.
I slowly straightened my posture and took a careful stroll around the predator, it steadily watched my every move.
Thanks to your brethren in the mountains, I made Kinsey my vassal and personal guard. It was her valour and courage against you that drew my eye…
“The other monsters are backing off,” Viktor observed.
“Of course they are. All of them are prey to this thing,” I snarled, listening to the steady, low creak in its throat. “If I were any of them, no matter my number, I might turn tail and flee at the sight of it. But I doubt they’ll be held off for long. The magic is too strong here…”
The beast roared, lunging forwards. It could barely fit in through the window, but that was enough to get a solid swipe in on me. I barely got my sword up in time before it struck me, sending me crashing hard into a large bookcase. I groaned, dropping to all fours in a pile of bodies as a rain of hardback books struck my chest and skull.
As I peeled myself out from under the debris, my allies lunged into combat against the foul vermin. I turned to the witch; she stood in place, conferring with her amulet. How does she still have that thing? Is it wise to even let her use it?
But I didn’t have the time for such questions.
I turned wearily to face the threat. It should have been an easy fight to take it down—but we were trapped with it in closed quarters, worse so than my own conditions when I fought the beast alone. The range of its vicious swipe by itself could nearly reach the thrones; after all the anarchy of fighting this unstoppable wave of magical beasts, this one alone dominated a third of the chamber.
Peering over my shoulder, I studied all the alternative methods of entering the room. Feral faces watched us from the comparative safety, lining the archways that ringed the room. A quick glance at the wooden door showed me that it stood intact—none of us dared to try it, not wanting to find ourselves caught in a chokepoint on both sides.
A shout drew my attention. I turned to watch Viktor’s burly form sail through the air, crushing a cupboard under his weight. The guard sank down painfully to the ground.
I rushed to his side. “Are you okay?”
He nodded, winded, and pointed back at the fight.
I lifted my sword and put myself between the terrified Kinsey and the beast. Even a vampire lord needed to face a creature like this with utmost care; the common vampires, those unable to ascend their blood as we did, were to one of these things at best a distraction—but at worst, an easy meal. I would not see that fate befall my vassal.
“We need her!” Valentine snarled over at Clara.
“Trust her…!” I tried to reassure the lord of the Wastes. “Give her some time. You haven’t seen some of the things that one can pull off in a pinch…”
Rearing back its head, its eyes began to glow green as it stared down at us from on high.
“Uh, Lord Elliott…” Wilhelm stepped closer to Asarra, his sword arm partly raised before her. “What is it doing? Because that really doesn’t look good for us…”
“I… don’t know…”
Arch-Magister Vayne was casting a spell over Viktor—but she looked drained. I did not know if she could keep this up. Truth be told, I don’t think any of us can… I leapt into the fray again as the vampire lords took a step back.
Kinsey’s blade lowered. “We… need to get down…”
My eyes widened as a green vapour rose from behind its sadistic teeth. Oh no. “Everybody down! NOW!”
As they all darted to the ground, Kinsey and I lunged for the head of our mutual enemy, blades held high. Using the dozens of corpses for leverage, we caught each other’s eye as we put ourselves between it and the others, ready to put an end to this monstrosity once and for all.
But we were too late; its eyes flashed emerald, and it exhaled a thick fog of crippling poison into the room… just in time for Clara’s amulet to burst to life.
Blown back by its breath, my vassal landed against me on the ground. Surprised that I wasn’t already dead from a point-blank burst of lethal fog, I stared in horror at the tatzelwurm. Briefly winded, it was recuperating in a pant.
“What? How are we still alive?” Chandra gasped.
Eyes-Like-Fire tugged at her robe. “Look!”
Similarly, Kinsey tugged at my cloak and pointed with an awed look across her face. I turned behind us to see my beloved witch. Crackling with power, Clara Blackwell held out a hand towards the leering, drained tatzelwurm. From her radiating energy, the room felt refreshed; indeed, I saw now that the poison gas lingered around the edges—none of it penetrated to incapacitate us within its deadly reach.
“Uh, Lord Elliott?” Asarra glanced around. “I think we have company!” At the sound of her terror, I realized that she was right—though plenty of creatures were dropping from the poison gas, many were crawling into the chamber around us now. We were all about to be torn to shreds.
But my attention wasn’t on them. It was on her.
Just as Tzavos Tzovac did in her dream, Clara held her palm raised with a menacing glare on her face. Resolutely, she growled a simple order: “I want my barrier back.”
And she clicked her fingers.
From her crackling energy surged a wave of power that burst out through the chamber; a ring of vicious creatures descended upon us at the very moment, intent on flaying the flesh from our bones, just as the tatzelwurm gave out one last, furious swing of its claws…
But the energy burst disintegrated them all on contact. It surged out in a blue, crackling wave in all directions; the incredible magic blasted outwards at a velocity that defied rational reason. Only the bodies under our feet remained.
In a loud, whirring blur, the wave shot out to the edges of Seven Portals, where it finally fizzled out. Kinsey leaned on me for support, holding me up as well; we marched to the archway where the tatzelwurm had been caught.
I looked down.
A handful of broken corpses laid there.
But nothing else stirred. Everything was gone.
In my peripheral, I saw her stumble. Releasing my grip on my vassal, I staggered past the stupefied vampire lords to hold Clara Blackwell by the shoulders.
“You… did it,” I gasped in shock. “You saved us. What did you do? How did you do it?”
Clara weakly smiled. “I asked it to turn on the barrier.”
“And it… worked,” I gazed at her amulet—now just as nondescript and plain as ever. Instead of a beautiful, black piece of jewelry around her throat, inset with a dark ruby, it looked, well… boring again.
“I think you drained it dry again,” I realized.
Clara chuckled tiredly. “I know I did.”
I gathered my breath, only vaguely aware that she was clutching at it. “Wait,” she whispered. “What? What’s this? What happened to it?”
“Eh?” I stood up str
aight, studying her.
“It’s… this isn’t my amulet!”
It dawned on us both at the same time, but she said it. “The connection to Tzavos Tzovac has been severed. That means, when I used its magic…”
“You emptied it,” I sighed. “For good, this time.”
Clara held the pendant with a defeated look across her face. “No wonder you didn’t want to power that spell. You knew it would be the last spell you ever cast…”
I frowned. “I did notice that seemed to take a while.”
The others peeled themselves off the ground or leaned on one another for support. But I kept my eyes on Clara; I tilted my head, holding her as supportively as I could. The curious amulet of this even more curious witch had always held a mystical power that I didn’t understand—but in the end, the amulet saved all of our lives. Clara planted a kiss against the necklace, she whispered just under her breath, loud enough so that only I could hear it:
“Thank you, old friend…”
Arch-Magister Vayne leaned on a throne nearby with a curious gaze. “Sorry! Sorry to intrude, Clara but I couldn’t help but overhear… Did you just say... Tzavos Tzovac?”
Clara and I shared a bitter but hearty laugh together.
“We might need to catch you up on a few things…”
* * *
As Clara rested in a throne, I took stock of the dead.
Hargonne was laid out on a clean section of the floor, and Kinsey told me that the duelist Kierra had been dragged from the tower. Soon, I would climb down from this high perch to collect what remained of her.
Regretfully, they were not our only losses.
Kinsey and Wilhelm both suffered broken bones, but it was the fate of Viktor that I feared. Slumped on the floor in the corner, I stirred him; he breathed, though barely. I gave him a rudimentary check and realized that most of his ribs were bruised, and several fractured. Even if we healed him at the castle, he might live to never fight again. I did what I could to console him, calling for Arch-Magister Vayne.
She stood motionlessly, stroking the hair of her brother.
I drew closer to her, whispering one word. “No…”
Vayne stared without seeing. At her side, Griswold sat in a throne, slumped lifelessly. His green and purple veins stuck out beneath his pale skin as he idly lifted his head in a sardonic smile, dispelling my fears that he was dead. But he was already a foot in the grave… and falling fast.
He groaned a few words. “Where is… Clara?”
Nodding, I walked over to the witch and placed a hand to her back as she sat in a tired daze. “Your teacher needs you,” I whispered to her, leaving a kiss against her head.
I helped her up. She stumbled towards him—when she realized the condition that bitter old Griswold was in, new life breathed into her developing strides. “No!” She cried out, throwing her arms around him. “What happened?!”
He coughed painfully; she pulled back. “Venom,” the disagreeable elder magician groaned in a strained voice. “Real nasty stuff. There are… spells for it… but they don’t always… exactly take… can’t cure everything with magic.”
The witch nodded with teary eyes.
“Little Blackwell…” he chuckled dryly. “Before I go…”
Clara lowered her ear near his lips as he grumbled his final words to her, a pained smile stricken across his face. Her eyes widened to hear them.
I was not so cruel as to separate Vayne from Griswold in his final moments. Viktor, I decided sadly, would have to suffer for the time being. At least he was passed out. But I noticed that Valentine Vasiliev was at his side, calling out a Fortification spell under her breath as she soothed him.
Of all the lords to know their healing magic…
He started to rest easier. Valentine felt my stare against her back and lifted her head to stare me down. Something unspoken passed between us as we held a hardened gaze. It wasn’t exactly camaraderie, but—if the stars aligned and the dangers of the witch’s dream really sank in—it felt like it could, one day, be friendship. At least, one could hope.
Valentine gave me a stiff, single nod.
I’ll take it. I nodded in return. Anything else might have pushed it, or even wounded, her well-earned pride.
A wail rang out behind me. Vayne clutched her brother, crying into his chest. His head hung unnaturally at a side; I walked over and, careful to not disturb her in her grief, I lifted it with a pair of fingers. Splitting them into a V, my fingertips graced his eyelids and closed them.
Vayne lifted her teary face and nodded thankfully.
Reassuringly, I placed a hand to her shoulder, standing in solemnity with her. “Brother Griswold was a great man. Without him… Clara could not be anywhere near the witch she that she was today. Your brother’s teachings kept her prepared for the dangers she found… and for that, I will forever be indebted to him.”
Vayne smiled despairingly, then clutched him harder.
Leaving her to grieve in peace, I took stock of the rest. I wasn’t surprised to see that the vampire lords survived the fight unscathed; looking for Clara, I saw that she migrated over to Wilhelm and Asarra. I nearly strayed over to them; Wilhelm glanced up with a tired smile as his fellow guard clung to him, her head resting on his shoulder. When I saw that, a knowing smirk rose on my lips. I nodded at him.
He looks like the happiest man in the world. Good for him.
“Well,” I sighed to myself. “I suppose that is everyone accounted for. But I can’t feel like I’m missing…” And then my eyes settled on a slumped body in another throne, one with platinum blonde hair…
* * *
With a frown, I realized that my sister had not yet left her chair. I tilted my head slightly at how her limp arm hung off the side in a slight rocking motion. There were a few vampire lords between us; none seemed to notice her.
“Excuse me,” I brushed them aside politely. “Nikki?”
My panic relaxed when I saw she still breathed. Good, I sighed in relief, only just realizing how tightly I’d held my own breath. In the brutality of it all, I barely realized you were not at my side… oh, you would have loved it. Thank goodness it was a death in a dream—and not a death at all.
When I bent down and reached for her hand, I shook my head with a lighthearted chuckle. “Time to wake back up, little sister. The others are already—“
“Wait!” Clara suddenly shouted. “Elliott, don’t—“
It happened too rapidly to react.
At my touch, Nikki Craven disintegrated into ash. The pile of dust left behind collapsed into her reclined throne; most of her dust remains sifted onto the floor in a splash of soot and decay. I stared in horror at the scene as something deep within me contorted in complete, untethered trauma.
Voices rang out. Everyone in the room panicked.
…Everyone except me.
I slid down to my haunches and stared at the piled ash, lightly massaging the fragments already on my fingers. No force in that room—not the witch, not the vampire lords, not even the Arch-Magister—could physically move me or coerce me away from my sister’s dust.
My vision blurred as the tears came forth.
Chapter 37
Clara
One hour later
Elliott and I stood together solemnly. Far above us, the black skies receded over Seven Portals—and beautiful stars finally shone through the darkness.
“Look at that, love.” I nodded upwards. “Dawn.”
He agreed, distantly. “Imagine that…”
It broke my heart that I lacked the words to help him. No one should ever go through what you just did. Especially not you—you’re too good a man for that. How you are even holding it together now, I can barely understand…
The grieving vampire lord of Stonehold held a hand to the air. I didn’t know what he was doing until he revealed his empty palm to me, after a moment of brooding. “Look, Clara… do you see it?”
I frowned. “No. I don’t see anyth
ing.”
“That’s right,” he sighed. “No more snowflakes.”
“Elliott, I…” My eyes widened as the revelation struck; a huge smile spread over my face. “That’s… amazing!”
“Winter is over.” He lowered his hand to his side. “The disasters upon this world started when I sent you away. I do not know how Tzavos Tzovac plays into that... but she is the one common denominator. I find myself wondering if all the other holds are similarly cured of their blights.”
I looked to the skies again with a smile. “Can’t imagine why not. The horror is finally over.”
“I agree.”
A moment passed. I knew better than to bring up what we had just seen happen to Nikki Craven. The nightmare, I knew, would linger in his heart for years to come. And she sacrificed herself to save us. One of us was meant to die to keep that spell contained. Nikki perished so we could live together…
He shuddered.
“What is it?” I asked quietly.
“Her. She’s still out there.”
“Hmm?” I turned to face him. “Your sister?”
“One can hope… but that’s not who I meant.”
Nodding wearily, I glanced over the citadel beneath us. Tzavos Tzovac… The woman who kindly guided my dreams for so many years. A Sanguine One, partial progenitor of the entire vampiric race; one of the first three Magisters of Seven Portals. Her thumbprint weights heavy on everything I have seen and done, ever since I first found that abandoned lake… Only to find out that she was my enemy all along—and just how dangerous she really is, even millennia later…
My head slipped softly onto Elliott’s shoulder; his arm wrapped tightly around me. Even in the depths of despair, the grief-stricken vampire lord still kept enough room in his battered heart to comfort me. The simple gesture only made me fall that much harder in love with him.
“Seven portals,” I noted sadly. “Seven realms…”
Elliott thought on the words with a hard stare. “I hope that the others are prepared for her. Who knows what she has planned. I can’t shake the feeling that she is going to only be more difficult to defeat…”