A Shade of Vampire 81: A Bringer of Night
Page 19
“Has anyone told you that you talk too much?” I asked, then bolted toward him.
“Esme, no!” Kalon shouted, but it was too late.
I went straight for Veliko’s head, my claws out and thirsty for his blood. Veliko brought his scythe up, eager to take me on. He was so focused on countering my attack that he didn’t anticipate my last-minute shift in direction. I slid to my knees and slashed at Ansel’s restraints. My claws caused sparks to fly, but the metal broke, and Ansel was free.
The Darklings held the Visentis dynasty back, but Veliko tried to nab me with his scythe. I’d already learned my lesson from my previous encounter with Zoltan. He missed me by inches. Ansel reacted quickly, jumping out of his chair to pull me back before Veliko could strike again.
My heart was pumping blood fast enough to make me feel lightheaded, but I welcomed the adrenaline rush. Things were about to get extra icky in this place.
“I really hope you’ve changed your mind about the Darklings,” I told Ansel. “You’re obviously in for a painful death if Veliko gets you.”
Fumbling through my dress pocket, I picked up a few blue smoke bombs, my gaze fixed on Veliko.
“Yeah, consider my lesson learned,” Ansel breathed, his cheeks red and his eyes bright with fear.
“Good,” I muttered, glancing at him and Kalon. “I’m not sure about your brother and me, but you’ve got a good shot at getting out of here.”
“You’re joking, right?” Veliko chuckled. “Can you not see you’re surrounded?”
His overconfidence would be his weakness. Had I been in his shoes, I would’ve attacked us already. This gloating moment of his was bound to be his undoing, and I was already looking forward to burning his ass to the ground.
“As soon as you get an opening, you run, Ansel,” I said, my lips stretching into a fanged grin as I squared off with Veliko. The dull pain in my thigh was nothing compared to what I’d be in for if he beat me tonight. “Find my brother and tell him what happened.”
I didn’t wait for Ansel to reply. I raised the smoke pellets in my hand and threw them against the lacquered floor. Veliko’s eyes widened in realization, but it was too late. The explosions were loud and flashy enough to temporarily blind him and the other Darklings.
Smoke swelled and filled the room, and I felt Ansel dashing past me. A second later, Kalon pulled me away. A scuffle broke out between the Darklings and the Visentis siblings.
“Get Ansel!” Petra shouted.
“We need to leave,” Kalon whispered. “Now.”
“They’re blocking the entrance,” I said.
“The windows!” he replied.
We turned around, fumbling through the smoke toward the windows. A figure emerged as Petra whistled sharply. My knees turned to jelly, ice pricking my spine as my throat tightened. I grabbed Kalon’s hand and yanked him back just as the beast revealed itself.
This was the biggest ghoul I had ever seen. He looked like something out of a nightmare. His obsidian skin was far darker than most ghouls', in some places even opaque and shiny. It was still mostly translucent, and I could see the black fiber of his muscles. His head was enormous, his fangs long enough to remind me of the Hermessi’s Shills—those mindless, murderous beasts born out of the primordial waters.
Only this creature was much worse, considering he had an iron collar around his thick neck. Some of the symbols engraved on it were familiar. “Death magic,” I whispered.
Dread washed over me, freezing my very soul.
“Enough with this nonsense!” Petra said.
A powerful wind blew through the room. Looking over my shoulder, I saw the blade of her scythe light up as she cut through the blue smoke with it. Seconds later, the air was clear. The Darklings were all dead, their heads on the floor, while Veliko was paralyzed by Petra’s scythe. The tables had turned, and Veliko was the one in trouble now.
Fortunately, Ansel was already gone. I could only hope he’d heed my request and go after my brother. We needed all the help available, since Kalon was about to fight his own family to protect me. The anger I’d felt earlier about him withholding important information was crammed to the bottom of my consciousness. What he was doing now was more than I’d ever thought he’d do for me.
But the ghoul… the ghoul was by far our biggest problem.
“Now that we have regained some order in this place,” Petra said, nodding at the creature. “Thank you, Atlas, for your promptness. I would’ve appreciated your presence before these bastards dared to threaten me, but better late than never, I suppose.”
The ghoul whimpered softly, keeping his big black eyes on Kalon and me.
“Mother, this is insane,” Kalon said. He didn’t seem surprised by the monster, which meant he’d probably known about Atlas, too.
“It’s time for you to stick with your family,” Simmon replied. “You’ve fooled around long enough, Kalon. Grow up, already. Accept your responsibility.”
“I’m not a Darkling! I will die before I join you!” Kalon shouted, a vein pulsating on his temple. “I’ve had enough of your garbage, your lies! This has to end!”
“It will end when Valaine is dead, but only for another ten thousand years.” Petra sighed. “It’s been our job since the beginning of our species, Kalon. You can never change that. All you can do is accept the truth.” She nodded at Atlas. “I had asked Veliko to hold on to Esme, but the plans have obviously changed. My ghoulish friend here will make sure Esme remains alive for as long as I wish. He’s the oldest ghoul around. The very first Reaper we ever captured and forced into becoming a ghoul. I inherited him from my uncle, who got him from his father. Atlas has been in our family since the Visentis name was etched in the annals of history.”
“Mother, don’t. Please. Don’t make me do this,” Kalon warned her. Petra wasn’t impressed.
The ghoul advanced toward us, and I knew we were in for a brutal outcome unless we got ourselves out of here. There was so much to unpack from Petra’s statements, as well, and so little time to fully digest everything she’d just said.
Kalon took my hand in his, squeezing tightly. “For all my shortcomings, Esme, believe me… I’m not letting anyone hurt you ever again.”
“I believe you,” I murmured.
The only challenge left was to leave this room in one piece. But with one hell of an ancient ghoul on one side and his own family on the other, there wasn’t much left for us to do but fight. They had scythes and death magic. We only had ourselves, and as much as I would’ve liked it to be, it definitely wasn’t enough.
My heart shrank into a hard marble as I braced myself for what would come next.
Tristan
We reached the palace discreetly by using one of the narrow side alleys that led to the service entrances near the gardens. The soldiers were relieved of their duties, expected to return the next day to resume their usual activities.
Valaine, Corbin, and I brought Zoltan inside while the Crimson guards delivered the other Darkling prisoners to the jail. They would be kept under lock and key and in strict isolation. Danika and Acheron had left word for us that they’d like to speak with Zoltan upon his arrival, so we met them in the throne room.
The Lord and Lady Supreme sat quietly as we brought the former chief councilor in. Corbin had a grip on Zoltan, whose hands were cuffed behind his back. Valaine and I stood to the side, close enough to hear each other’s heartbeats.
Lights flickered in the wall sconces, dressing the sumptuous throne room in a warm shade of amber. It warmed Valaine’s skin, as well, some of the flames reflecting in her dark eyes.
Acheron got up first, descending the throne platform and walking toward us. His black tunic fluttered with every step he took, his heels clicking on the marble floor. He smiled as he approached Zoltan.
“You finally caught him,” he said. “The traitor. The scourge of our species.”
“The words of an ignorant fool cannot cut me,” Zoltan replied, struggling to retain his di
gnity. Danika watched from behind, still comfortable in her seat. I couldn’t read her expression, except for the occasional flicker of anger in her blue eyes.
Acheron struck him using his claws, drawing blood in four wide gashes down Zoltan’s cheek. “You’re right. But the claws of an ignorant fool can,” he said. “And this is merely a fraction of what you deserve. We trusted you, Zoltan. The empire trusted you.”
“The empire will always have my loyalty,” the Scholar hissed. “You, on the other hand… You’ve been selling us out to strangers!”
He glared my way, and Corbin slowly shook his head. “I’m afraid that’s all we’ve been able to get out of him, as far as a confession goes. His disdain for the throne and his conviction that he’s doing the right thing in trying to kill my daughter.”
“Your daughter will bring the Black Fever upon us unless she is killed and sacrificed for the good of our people!” Zoltan shouted.
I was tempted to intervene, but the master commander gripped Zoltan by the throat with so much strength that he almost crushed his windpipe. “My daughter did not cause the Black Fever, you moron. She’s only five thousand years old. Enough with this nonsense. Just admit you’re fanatics and you have no idea what it is you’re really doing!”
“Not before you admit you’re letting your own feelings cloud your judgment,” Zoltan croaked, barely breathing.
Acheron raised a hand, silently instructing Corbin to stop choking the Darkling traitor. He looked at Valaine and me. “You two were incredible,” he said. “The empire is beyond thankful for your efforts. I shall see you in the morning at this scoundrel’s sentencing. In the meantime, you should rest for the night. Corbin and I will have a few words with Zoltan. Maybe we’ll get him to tell us more before his beheading."
The mere mention of his impending decapitation drained the color from Zoltan’s face. He’d known it was coming, but that didn’t mean he was actually ready to face it. I figured he’d had time to think during our journey back. Maybe he’d reassessed his options and priorities. I could only hope Acheron and Corbin might get more out of him.
Either way, I could breathe a little easier knowing we’d caught the monster responsible for Nethissis’s death and my sister’s injury. I worried about Esme after our last conversation, but I was even more concerned for Valaine after what Lumi had told us.
“Thank you, Your Grace,” I said, bowing before the Lord Supreme. “We’ll take our leave then.”
“You two be careful,” Corbin warned us. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Yes, Father,” Valaine replied.
We left them in the throne room and headed straight for the study chamber where Amal and Amane were waiting. Valaine and I had already discussed running another round of blood tests to verify the Darklings’ claim against her, just in case the Faulty twins had missed something the first time. It was highly improbable, but better to be safe than sorry, I’d thought.
“Derek and Sofia are with the twins,” I told Valaine as we walked through the palace hallways, passing the occasional gold guard. Security had tightened after the Darkling attacks, but the presence of soldiers didn’t exactly take the edge off my tension—especially after I’d seen the Darklings wielding death magic. The regular Aeternae were now well prepared for this. Valaine and I had taken a few scythes from the Darklings we’d captured, and the rest had been secured in locked boxes and carried back to the prison.
I planned to take all the weapons back and have them delivered to Death or Seeley—the only Reaper we knew well enough to try and reach out to—if needed. I couldn’t help but wonder whether he or his colleagues were already here, trying to discover the Darklings’ plans and the source of their resources.
“Good. Your friends can bear witness in case something comes up to incriminate me as the source of the Black Fever,” Valaine replied, her voice low and tinged with worry.
“That won’t happen,” I said. “Let’s not expect the worst. It usually invites the universe to screw us over.”
She laughed lightly as we walked into the study room. Derek and Sofia lit up at the sight of us. Within seconds, they’d crossed the room and were hugging us tightly enough to cut off my air supply.
“Oh, it’s so good to see you two again!” Sofia exclaimed, pulling back with a warm smile. “We were worried about you.”
“Have you spoken to Esme recently?” Derek asked, his brow slightly furrowed.
I nodded, though I couldn’t bring myself to smile just yet. “I did, about an hour ago.”
“She was with Kalon at his house. They took Ansel there,” Valaine said. “They’re hoping to get some kind of clemency for him in return for his cooperation.”
My stomach nagged me, knotted with stress, but we had too much left to do for me to pay it any mind. Amal and Amane joined us, carrying a blood test tray complete with needles, slim catheters, glass vials, and white fiber pads dipped in disinfectant.
“Are you ready?” Amal asked.
Valaine sighed. “I doubt I’ll ever be ready to learn I’m the root of a global problem that has claimed millions of Aeternae lives.”
“Hey, pessimism… Not a good start,” I replied.
“You’re right,” Valaine said, extending her arm. “I’m ready. Let’s do this.”
While Amal took several blood samples from Valaine, Amane explained their findings in full detail, including their suspicion that the Black Fever wasn’t a disease at all, but rather the disease-like manifestation of a mazir curse. My stomach hurt even more upon hearing their theory. It somehow made it even more possible that Valaine could be connected to it, though I wasn’t sure how.
Technically speaking, the link existed because Valaine knew mazir. It was a long shot, but it was the only thing that made any sense. Upon second thought, I groaned with frustration. It didn’t make that much sense after all. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more confused I got.
“It’s not a virus,” Valaine murmured, unable to focus. She took a seat, and I couldn’t pull myself away from her. Sofia sat next to her, gently squeezing her shoulder.
“We’ll figure out what it is,” she said. “We’ve come this far, haven’t we?”
“How could we miss this?” Valaine replied. “It’s insane…”
Amal sighed. “You couldn’t have found it. Not without our microscopes. The problem is that we’ve also just found a few common points between mazir and death magic, based solely on the blood samples of Black Fever patients.”
That was news to me. “Wait, death magic? So not a mazir curse after all?”
Amane shook her head. “It’s why we want to test Valaine’s blood. To verify if she is, indeed, connected to this, but also to see if we can establish a clear link between death magic and mazir. Our blood studies show similarities between the magic crafts, though we have no explanation for any of this.”
“We’ll test your blood again now,” Amane said. “We know what we’re looking for this time, and hopefully there won’t be any of it in your system.”
Valaine glanced up at me. “So, death magic has been around for longer than we’d thought. Right? If it’s related to the Black Fever, it means at least four or five million years.”
“That would be correct, yes,” I said. “And I wonder if it’s got something to do with the Darklings rather than with you.”
Derek raised an eyebrow at me. “You think the Darklings started this? What would be the point of them pretending to be the saviors, then? Why would they be so hell-bent on killing Valaine to supposedly stop the Black Fever?”
It was my turn to surrender to intellectual despair. No matter how we looked at it, the pieces didn’t fit. The motivations, the science, the mythology… nothing clicked together in a coherent way, and we’d speculated long enough. More Aeternae were getting sick, and sooner than expected.
We watched as Amal and Amane extracted the blood samples they needed from the glass vials, releasing tiny droplets for microscopic studies. I cou
ldn’t say anything more as anxiety thickened my blood, but I could at least offer Valaine some comfort. I took her hand in mine and held it for a while.
She gazed up at me, and Derek and Sofia moved closer to one another. The silence was almost deafening as the fates seemed to align and prepare something else for us. It was just a feeling I got sometimes—and unfortunately it was usually accurate. Something was brewing in our near future, and I felt we’d all survive it only if we stuck together.
“Thank you for everything, Tristan,” Valaine said, her gaze refusing to leave me. “I will be forever grateful for your presence, your support, your protection…”
“It’s been my pleasure,” I replied. “But something tells me this is just the beginning. You might save some of those thanks for later. I’m confident I’ll have some thanks of my own by the time this is over.”
We both laughed, but our humor faded as Amal came back from the microscope table with a grim look on her face. “I found it.”
“You found what?” Sofia asked, her blue eyes crystallized with fear.
“Traces of the curse, if we’re still calling it that,” Amal replied. “It’s not the virus itself, rest assured. It’s not contagious in any way. It’s just… trace elements of death magic. Purer than what we found in the Black Fever patients, which we attributed to mazir. There is definitely a link here. The element in Valaine’s blood is purer, stronger, but not deadly. Not even infectious. The element in the Black Fever patients was harder to identify, but lethal.”
Amane frowned. “Their shape and general appearance remind me of the samples we lifted from Thieron that time Taeral let us examine Death’s weapon.”
Either the room got cold, or my own temperature had just dropped. Valaine was understandably confused. At least the rest of us knew what Amal and Amane were talking about—in layman’s terms, anyway.
“I don’t understand,” Valaine said. “I don’t have the Black Fever?”