by Emma Glass
I lifted a brow. “A bank for blood?”
“Remind me later, and I’ll tell you all about it.”
“Fair enough.”
I held my bride tightly as we walked along the edge of the castle, towards the front gates. It was her favourite part of the grounds, just as it had once been where my mother could be found, day or night…
Chrysm travel was one thing, but there was something to be said of taking the scenic route. The beautiful gardens Lorelei Craven had once planted to memorialize the fallen Fiona Craven sprawled out before us, just as gorgeous as they had ever been. If anything, the years of frost had only brought their beauty out further—they felt legitimately far more colourful and lush than ever before.
Clara noticed this too, so it wasn’t just me.
“I always adored these gardens,” she sighed lovingly.
“They adored you as well,” I noted. “Lorelei planted all these flowers with her bare hands—not a single spell for the decades that it took—but I cannot help but think that at least a little magic worked its way in.”
“The love of a grieving mother can do that.”
“Is that something you learned at Seven Portals?”
Clara smiled pensively. “Some magic, you never learn. Some magic, you just… feel.” She lifted her face, beaming at the nearest row of flowers. “And a mother’s love? Why, I doubt there is much magic more powerful than that.”
I appraised her with a grin. “You’ve grown wise on me. When did that happen?”
“Not wise. Just… more instinctual, maybe.”
“True. You’re much too young to be wise.”
She playfully whacked me. “I’m mature for my age!”
“I’m sure you are, my love. You are certainly far more mature than any vampire at your age…”
Clara smirked lovingly, looking up at the stars. “I’ll be wise someday. A great, powerful witch.”
“You already are a powerful witch.”
“No,” she shook her head thoughtfully. “I still have so much to learn! I didn’t even finish a complete curriculum at Seven Portals. If I really want to become a proper witch, I will need a proper tutor. Someone powerful. I think I’ll need to undergo the full training.”
“That’s fifty years,” I noted.
My bride nodded. “Yes, I know.”
“Then you gave more thought to my offer?”
She eyed me. “I’ve had time to think on it, yes.”
I stopped us. “Say the words. I need to hear them.”
“Yes, Elliott. I want to be your vampire bride.”
And I didn’t think this day could get any better.
“Well... as it so happens, I am pretty good friends with the Arch-Magister over Seven Portals,” I responded coyly. “Perhaps I can pull a few strings… who knows? She might even have a go at instructing you herself…”
Clara smiled. “One can hope.”
I thought about telling her that the Arch-Magister had, in fact, insisted upon directly tutoring her if the opportunity rose. We had even discussed the old style—where she came to Stonehold to teach me. That way, neither of us had to leave the island, and I would not feel so compelled to split my time with the mainland.
Vayne was deeply investing in seeing what Clara could truly accomplish, stripped of the archetype limitations. In her wild theories, she had openly wondered if the human witch could expand upon Tzavos’s work and rewrite our entire magical system.
But I didn’t say a word of this to Clara.
Not just yet.
As we strolled through the gardens, we came to a very special place. Lifting a white spring flower from her hair, I dropped down to a knee and placed it gently on the grave of Lorelei Craven. Clara took note of the other burial sites.
To one side lay the bones of Fiona Craven.
On the other... I had buried Mattias Blackburn.
“I still can’t believe they let you reunite them.”
“Nobody let me do anything of the sort,” I noted. “It is traditional for a vampire lord’s remains to be sent to their heir and hold. Lord Blackburn fell in combat—that gives a little leeway in the customs. As far as I am concerned? The man deserves to be buried wherever the hell he damned well pleases. I cannot think of any spot in this entire world he would rather occupy than beside the woman he loved, and the daughter he could never raise…”
“The others didn’t fight you on it?”
“I inflicted my will. They did not argue. Although I think Eyes-Like-Fire was somewhat disappointed that she could not burn him on a funeral pyre.”
“Were they close?”
I half-smiled. “They shared a border. They even faced some of the same threats. Lord Mattias had taken her under his wing and taught her the ways of the vampire lords…”
“He left a large mark on the world.”
“Mattias was a good man. I hope he rests now.”
Clara slipped her arms around me and kissed the back of my neck. I felt a crackle of magic. “I’m sure he rests just fine now, my darling. He left this world in good hands.”
My eye trailed to the other graves nearby. So did hers.
This memorial garden had become so much more. This was no longer a place merely for Fiona Craven, but for all of those who died to fight the Calamity. While I had buried Lorelei and Mattias here with her, there were several other bodies nearby. A pair of large headstones marked the final resting places of Kierra and Hargonne. Clara released her grip on me to walk past them, offering her love before she took a kneel before a small, glowing marker. I had allowed Arch-Magister Vayne to cast a strange magic on this stone, in honour of Brother Griswold—it forever glowed a soft, soothing light that forever calmed his bones.
My attention turned to the other side.
Along with the main three graves, a small vessel sat on an altar. It was in this intricate urn, wrapped with ribbons, that I had placed the ashes of Nikki Craven.
I took a few steps over to it and planted a kiss on it.
I love you with all of my heart, little sister. May you rest peacefully…
Clara’s arms embraced me again, holding me tight. My forehead drifted forwards as I held back the pain, feeling a powerful stinging in my eyes. Although the cruel memory of her death haunted me a little less every week, there wasn’t a day that I did not miss her terribly.
“It’s okay,” I said finally. “Nikki died a warrior’s death. In the end, that is all she would have ever wanted…”
Clara nodded, fighting her own despair. “Nikki Craven was the strongest woman I have ever known. The world is darker without her. But together, maybe we can brighten it—and honor her sacrifice.
I lifted my head. “We should get back soon.”
“Oh, the others can do without us a little longer, don’t you think?” Clara pulled me back by the chin.
“I thought the castle gardens were your favourite place on the island,” I eyed her with the faintest hint of curiosity. “Is there somewhere else you would rather be, my love?”
Clara smiled into our kiss. Our energy sizzled.
“I’m ready to be made a vampire,” she whispered. “But not tonight. There’s something a little more important than that for right now.”
I raised a brow. “And what might that be?”
She bit her lip as she smiled, tugging me closer with a finger in my belt. “Lord Craven, the love of my life… this is our wedding night. Take me back to your chambers.”
“Lady Clara Craven...” I winked. “That, I can do.”
Chapter 41
Somewhere…
The cold, bitter air cut through my leather armour.
It was impossible to keep warm enough. The frosts of northern Stonehold weren’t exactly kind to the unprepared vampire, but these winds beat the worst my home had ever had to offer.
For the past hour, I’d blearily investigated the woods. I couldn’t determine any regular footpaths, so I wasn’t near any sort of perceivable civilization. Thankfully, I h
ad managed to find some of the local fauna—I woke up hungry, after all. I took one last bite of the roasted chunk of meat before I tossed it back the way I’d come.
I didn’t recognize the beast.
Of course, the wildlife always varied. In the Falvian Badlands, I had seen a great many new sights and hunted a great many new things. I wasn’t interested in keeping up with the silly, endless little details of other holds and their own unique little magical creatures. I was always far too busy to stay buried in those books…
I was starting to regret that choice.
It wasn’t icy—so that ruled out Bleakwood.
Still, it’s far too cold to be the Timberland Plains, Selvara Karn, or Alevorra. It’s definitely not the Falvian Badlands. The few islands left in the Drenchlands are smaller than this. Nothing remotely resembles Stonehold, and I know my home like the back of my own blades…
Speaking of, I briefly glanced at the tips of my daggers. At least I woke up with them—along all of the other possessions I had squirreled away. I might know exactly where here was… but at least I had most of the things I needed. The only thing missing was—
No. You’ll find him again. No matter what.
Something about this place seemed curiously… safe? I didn’t trust the feeling. I kept up my guard and continued to navigate the woods as carefully as possible.
Maybe this is the Wastes…? I picked the nearest sturdy-looking tree and nimbly ascended it. I knew the Wastes were a vast and nearly empty hold, so the lack of civilization would be… expected.
I was always under the impression that the Wastes were a little more, I don’t know… haggard than this?
I thought back a couple of days—back to the time I spent trapped on Clara’s world. The council chamber did spit us out on a landmass I didn’t recognize in her world. Maybe that’s where I am…
I climbed over another branch, hopping to the next tree over. If I was, there’d be no way to tell, would there? The whole place was buried in the earth… I spared a glance at the floor of the woods. Anything underneath you?
A sound caught my ear. I turned my head sharply, but I heard nothing else.
Hmm.
Distracted, I reached for the next branch—but I misjudged. Before I could grapple to anything solid, I found myself tumbling out to the ground.
Gracefully catching myself with both hands down and a boot kicked out to my side, I was upset at myself before I climbed to my feet. A blistering gust poured over the woods, and I shivered as I composed myself.
A twig snapped.
I turned fiercely and spotted a pair of feral red eyes watching me from the closest bush. Narrowing my own, I took a very calculated step backwards, then another, reaching for my daggers…
Which, I’ll be damned, decided now might be a good time to take a little vacation.
I quickly scanned the forest floor, finally catching the light reflecting off metal among the leaves.
My eye lifted. The red glare hadn’t shifted.
Great. Well, you look a bit taller than me. Bigger, too…
I regretted taking that step backwards now—regardless of how defensive the movement was meant to be. Give or take, my beloved pair of daggers rested about halfway between the two of us, and I couldn’t tell what that thing was… or how fast it was.
Carefully, I shifted a foot closer.
A simmering low growl drifted from the bush.
“Ah,” I sighed reluctantly, trying to hold back my grin. “Here I was, thinking we could be friends. Those hellish red eyes are a bit of a dead giveaway, but hey, I was trying to give you the benefit of the doubt…”
The eyes drew just a little closer.
I eyed the daggers, then the hidden face.
“If it’s all the same to you,” I muttered at the eyes in the bushes, “I’ll just, you know… take these… back…”
I dove hard.
Clasping my hands around the hilts of both daggers, I rolled backwards… and not a moment too soon. A massive paw swooped at the leaves, just missing me with its claws as I kicked myself onto my feets to confront my feral attacker.
I quickly realized how bad an idea that was as I laid my eyes on some kind of massive bear with at least a meter on me. “Oh. You are… wow. Yeah. Bye.”
I threw myself backwards and tried to run—but I quickly realized that I couldn’t run at my usual speed.
“What gives? What’s going on?”
I turned over my shoulder to see the charging creature, snapping thick branches against its thick fur as it pursued me. Realizing that I was suddenly in some deep trouble, I sheathed my daggers on instinct and dove around the nearest tree to scramble up to safety… but I found myself tumbling down a hard slope instead.
“Oh come on!”
The entire world span around me. Unable to grip onto any passing roots or vines, I rolled further down the hill. It was disorienting, infuriating and—above everything else I hated—it was absolutely humiliating.
My frantic hands couldn’t catch on anything remotely useful; finally, I came to a stop in an open area. A clearing?
Dazed, I clamoured to my feet and gazed around.
I was out of the woods. They sprawled outward in both directions above. Meanwhile, I’d rolled to the edge of what appeared to be a vast, rolling series of pastures. They extended out as far as I could see in great, sweeping hills.
Annnd I’m not in the Wastes. Fantastic.
I checked my dagger-laden scabbards and took a relieved breath, pleased to have put myself through all of those exercises in reinforcing such instinctual moves under duress.
Despite my tiniest of triumphs, something seemed off. Really off.
Before I could determine exactly what had tripped my focus, I sensed movement from the woods. Taking one more step backwards as I tried to search my options here, I winced in pain.
Seems my ankle has seen better days…
I wasn’t used to actually being hurt… but I’d just taken one hell of a surprise tumble. I struck more than a few obstacles at speed, and my whole body felt bruised and weary.
Today, long as it was, had not been particularly kind to me. I was ready to find something to take that out on, and my not-so-little friend in the woods was going to figure that out pretty damn quickly. Crouching down and taking weight off of my bad ankle, I held out a low palm near it and quietly whispered, “Novo.”
I felt tired. Today had significantly drained me of magic, but I still managed the minor restorative spell. Relief washed over me as I stood tall with my eyes on the woods above.
Alright, you. Time to show me what you’ve got…
I tightened my posture, holding the daggers up. I expected the bear to come charging out from the treeline, but to my surprise, four slightly smaller beasts came into view.
Bitter but ready to put up a fight, I held my ground as the creatures roared, galloping down the side of the slope. Though they moved fast—about as fast as I should be able to run, I couldn’t help but angrily notice—I could still determine a few general characteristics.
Hulking beasts of grayish fur, they raced on all fours. The beasts swarmed past, circling me in a wide arc. They formed a gap about three meters from edge to edge—just enough room to encapsulate and wear me down.
That’s clever, I noted irritably. I’d seen this sort of tactic before. It was classic pack animal behavior.
Howling under the wide open sky, the creatures had me surrounded… which meant they underestimated me. I lit up with a sadistic smile, preparing to pick off the biggest of these awe-inspiring monsters.
I didn’t lower my daggers.
But I didn’t attack them, either. Not yet.
They really were majestic. For a moment, I thought that they might even be studying me, but that was crazy. It wasn’t often that one found a magical creature with much intelligence. Despite that, they reminded me of the bird that saved me in the Killing Peaks—the Impundulu.
If you were truly intellig
ent, you’d leave me alone…
One of the beasts pulled out from the circle. I narrowed my eyes, watching it trot just outside to a gradual stop and letting the others continue. Curiously, I came to realize that they, too, were growing confused and slowing down.
“Oh? Not interested in hunting anymore?” I asked.
At the sound, they scattered. I swallowed fearfully, not fully understanding what this meant. I reserved most of that tentative concern for the first creature. I saw its full glory. This was a massive wolf of some sort, much bigger than any wolf I had ever heard of. It padded forward, slowly.
“Let’s form a little truce,” I sardonically told it. “You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had. I’m not sure where I am, and I’m starting to think I’m a long way from home. I need a little time to… I don’t know… figure this out?”
The wolf reared up on its haunches; most of its bulk sat in its front shoulders. The wolf was more streamlined than I realized. While each limb was its own marvel of lean sinews and thick muscles, the heavy head drooped slightly lower than the crest of its back. Speaking of its back, there was a thick, shaggy burst of fur across it, extending down its spine like spikes. The fur left the front completely bare; that was all rippling muscle.
It stood taller than me—but thankfully shorter than the absolutely massive bear I’d been running from. Given the choice, I’d much rather be fighting this… thing…
“So…” I relaxed my shoulders. “Truce, or death?”
The other wolves sat and watched, surrounding me as the big one stood tall. Before my own eyes, and in the breadth of a single heartbeat, the wolf’s powerful body shrank down slightly into the form of a tall and powerful man. His fur drew back under the skin, revealing every hidden line of his impressively muscular warrior build. The stranger watched me with a sharp, intelligent stare. Given the smug smile on his face, I must have worn my astonishment like so much splattered war paint. I barely registered how the others receded into their own powerful forms, with men and women standing among them.
“When you put it that way,” he smirked slyly. “Truce.”
Clara’s story is done for now, but Nikki Craven’s journey is just beginning! Join me in Season 2 (the season of the WOLF) to find out what happens next in A Witch Between Worlds! Tap right here to be among the very FIRST to read it!