Vermilion Dreams (Book One of A Vampire Fantasy Epic)

by M. U. Riyadad

  “Well, are you going to elaborate?” Mawlik asked impatiently.

  I wiped a slippery tangle of mildew onto a handful of reeds, then held up three fingers. “It’s simple, really,” I said. “First, she can go out in the sun, as we saw when she took my sisters. Second, even for a vampire whose senses are dulled from feeding or being hungry, she should have known she was being followed when Arad trailed her to the Vannadray’s estate. Especially at nighttime and in open farmland.” I looked at Elsa. “And finally, you said Arad saw her near the body with bloody fingertips, right? Not a bloody chin or mouth. It’s an important detail that he overlooked. She wasn’t feeding on that body at all.”

  Elsa nodded, looking curiously into the marshes as she tried to figure out what I was putting together. “But what about all the strange things happening around her?” she asked.

  “Proves my point,” I replied. “Those things don’t happen around vampires.” I stepped to the side, holding onto more reeds to keep myself from slipping. “Nikhil, remember that time your uncle went patrolling through the forest with the City Watch last year, after the animals with markings started coming out of the forest?” I turned to the rest of them. “And you know how they always say the Dwah Forest is haunted? That woman people keep claiming to see walking around the marshes after midnight.”

  “Shit,” Nikhil whispered. He stopped and turned around. “You don’t think—”

  “I do,” I said. “This is no vampire. She’s a witch.” I wobbled backward as the smell of a carcass stung my nostrils. We veered off to the right as we continued.

  “Thank the gods,” Mawlik sighed, looking toward the sky blissfully. “I thought we were going to die painful deaths. If she’s a witch then this will be quick. We might not even feel it.”

  “We should be able to hold her off,” Nikhil said. “Maybe give Dina a chance to get her sisters. Elsa and I know a good amount of alchemy now. And the two of you…” He regarded Jahlil and Vale for a few seconds. “Well you know, you could distract her or something.”

  Jahlil snorted. “I like that plan.” He brushed a heap of rain from his already soot-filled hair. Elsa brushed dirt from the back of his shirt, tip-toeing to do the same for his shoulders.

  “You’re all mad,” Mawlik lamented quietly. He made a sound like a muted grumble, then tripped on the cap of a disc-shaped toadstool. He spat out a mouthful of sour water while grasping at his throat. “If that’s not a bad omen—” His voice disappeared behind a string of hacking and barking noises.

  “She’s just one—” Nikhil began.

  “He’s right,” I interrupted. They all looked at me. A nest of crickets chanted lazily nearby, filling the momentary silence with a stuttering rhythm. “If Taa’s stories are true, and they usually are, you could use all the alchemy you want and it would do you no good. You could take water and heat the air around you, the earth to give yourself the strength of three men, and still you wouldn’t graze the depths of the old magic.” The crickets weren’t especially loud, but the rest of the marsh was so quiet and still that their song thumped against my ribs.

  “Do you think she’ll offer to spare us if we serve her as a minion?” Mawlik asked. “She must need someone to make all those markings on the trees or fetch wormwood. That’s a lot of manual work.”

  “Here, here, don’t worry yourself,” I coaxed. I crossed my arms, taking in the smell of the forest with a deep breath. When it mixed with the marsh evenly, it had an iodine and grain kind of scent, like the skin of a seashell. “I’ll think of something,” I said. “I know what she wants. I just have to stall until Taa gets to the forest.”

  “And what about the hairless werewolf?” Elsa asked. Her olive eyes grew rounder with curiosity. “Why is it not a werewolf?”

  “Well, the most obvious hint is that it somehow transforms without the blue or red moon,” I answered. “But if you pay attention to the details, there are other things that don’t line up. Think of the attacks.” I turned to Nikhil, pointing a wavering, damp hand. My fingers were pruned and traces of mildew clung to my knuckles. “What did the City Watch find after the last attack? Remember what it looked like? It happened on the second week of Frostfell.”

  “Body parts spread all over,” Nikhil said. “Dry and shriveled. Everything was drained of blood. It was in a small cabin in the farmlands. No sign of someone forcing their way in. Just an open window.”

  “Exactly. None of that makes sense,” I remarked. “Drained of blood means vampire. But vampires feed with their fangs. If the body was ripped apart, then how could it drink all of that blood? Surely it didn’t lick it off the floor. Werewolves eat flesh and bone. This creature feeds on blood only. But at the same time, based on what people have said, it sounds like it doesn’t take a human shape. And the way it entered… it had to be small or narrow-bodied to get through the window if it didn’t force itself in, but still strong enough to do all that damage. On top of that—why would the window be open during the winter? It had to have knocked or something, and then someone let it in. Why would it need to knock if it’s that strong? I think we’re dealing with some new kind of daemon. There’s a pattern in the way it’s been attacking. We’re just not seeing it clearly yet.”

  “A werewolf and vampire hybrid,” Jahlil said excitedly. He took out his glasses and slipped them on for a few seconds to survey the forest. Mawlik shot him a sickened glance, squinting his eyes into dots.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But it has something to do with the witch. They were seen together. And the attacks, they tend to happen close to the Vannadray estate. It all circles back to that family. It’s why Taa went out of her way to save the boy. Avisynth.” I clasped my hands together, trying to think of how to fit the whole story together. I was missing only one or two pieces. I could feel it.

  Bodies of lumazoas swam in the air high above us, star-shaped jellyfish that always crowded the skies of the marshes at the cusp of night. Each one had a handful of trailing tentacles that dripped with light as they skidded past low hanging clouds. The water wasn’t that bad here. It was when bugs got inside that it got uncomfortable, even dangerous. Leeches here, like the entillus whitewing, could take enough blood to make your feet numb. The water carried them into your shoes where they burrowed inside of your toes or climbed up to your ankles, and you wouldn’t notice them until the area they fed from swelled up to the size of a pear. The biggest ones could take enough blood to make you light-headed or even faint. They’d make you lie down in the waters from dizziness. That’s when the marshes would get their toe-hold in you, and after that, a maze of leeches would descend on your skin like a web of thick, sticky fingers. Places that nurtured cannibalistic palates like the marshes and the Manasi Jungle had their own kind of elegance. You see, vampires hunted humans, and sometimes, they even worked together to get you. Same with werewolves and ghouls and wraiths. But in the Manasi Jungle or the Bidetha Moor, even creatures of the same kin were food for one another. There was no culture that separated prey and predator, only a pervasive craving for hard contests and wide appetites.

  “Do you think we should take a break?” Jahlil asked. “Just so we’re not tired when we head into—whaaaaa!” he yelped, springing backward and throwing off a water bug that had settled on his shoulder. A gangly set of legs latched onto a nearby clump of pondweed.

  “Oh calm down,” Elsa said, pulling him closer. “I swear, in Chaya people cry because of roaches as small as mice.” She took her hand and held it to the back of Jahlil’s throat. “In Jidarth, the roaches don’t nibble at your lunch—they steal all the food in your house with a dagger to your throat. Sometimes they take books or clothing, too. And small children.”

  “You’re exaggerating,” Mawlik retorted. He was still nursing his throat and spitting every few minutes. He walked up to Nikhil and whispered, “She’s exaggerating, right?”

  “We should keep our pace,” Elsa said. “Until we’re at the end of the marshes, at least.”

  “
No, it’s okay,” I broke in. I turned to Jahlil. “Sure. We can catch our breaths. We’ll need it for the forest. That’s a good idea.”

  Mawlik let out a sigh of relief. We continued walking, but slowed our pace to a trot. Nikhil and Elsa led the way. It seemed silly to think about, especially at a time like this, but a small part of me wished it was me in Elsa’s place. Not in the way you might wish misfortune to happen to someone, or in the way that turns your skin green and makes your hair prickle—it was just a small part of me, a tiny, and frivolous, and simplistic part, that wished it was me walking next to Nikhil instead. Taa called these feelings mind butterflies. Like the ones in our stomach, but in our heads. It’s a childish term, but she used the analogy to explain it to me when I was seven. Everyone has them. Hundreds of tiny little emotional flutters through the day. And everyone always ignores them. But the way teaches differently. It teaches you to notice them all, in yourself and in others. It teaches you to control them. Taa told me this is how the observant become the knowing, and the knowing become the cunning.

  “Thanks,” Mawlik said. “I just gave blood for the blue moon. Feeling rather tired.”

  “You gave blood?” Elsa asked.

  “To Let’Rishi. He takes it from everyone willing, then gives it to the physikers,” Mawlik replied. “It helps when they make those juices or something. For healing the injured.”

  “Aren’t you too young?” Nikhil asked.

  “He just turned fourteen,” Jahlil said.

  “Right. It’s not sixteen anymore,” Nikhil noted. “Let’Rishi keeps making it younger and younger. Suppose they’ll need blood from children soon enough. Every blue moon it gets worse.”

  “He’s a vampire,” I said.

  They looked at me, then turned away, probably imagining that they had heard wrong.

  “Let’Rishi. He’s a vampire,” I repeated.

  Mawlik laughed nervously, then turned to Jahlil, then Elsa, and then finally Nikhil.

  “What do you mean?” Jahlil asked. “Figuratively? He does charge those enormous fees sometimes. Much more than any other physiker.”

  A smile dimpled Elsa’s cheeks, and then she broke out laughing after glancing at Mawlik and Jahlil.

  “Oh, you’re kidding,” Mawlik said, sighing in relief.

  “No, I think she’s serious,” Nikhil cut in. He studied my expression. “Or at least, she seems serious.”

  I nodded slowly. “As serious as I could be,” I said. “Elsa’s laughing because she still thinks it’s funny.” I pointed to Mawlik and Jahlil. “And probably enjoys that look of horror on the both of you.”

  “What do you mean he’s a vampire?” Mawlik asked.

  “You’ve never heard of them?” I looked curiously in his direction. “Those creatures that look like us but much older and with fangs. They hunt in the dark and suck human blood and they have their own kingdom in Adhib, and—”

  “All right, all right, I get that,” Mawlik relented. “I meant about Let’Rishi. He can’t be a vampire.”

  “Isn’t it rather obvious?” I asked. “I figured it out on my second visit. I was ten. Taa asked what took me so long.”

  We walked in silence for the next few minutes. Mawlik and Jahlil occasionally lifted their heads and whispered a new detail about Let’Rishi that they were just now noticing.

  “He has no windows,” Mawlik remarked. “He doesn’t allow any sunlight in. There’s just a few candles. Like the apothecary, but even darker.”

  “Always thought that was just an alchemical thing,” Nikhil muttered.

  “Nope. Vampire,” I said, keeping my tone deadpan. “Prefers the dark. And blood. Did you notice how he always mumbles his words? Doesn’t open his mouth too much when he speaks.”

  “He always asks me to put my pendant away,” Jahlil said. He held his chest, where a small, silver replica of Yuweh’s triton hung on a golden chain. A gift I had gotten him for the winter solstice. “I thought it was because he just didn’t have religion in him. You know, the kind of person who worships science. Some of the guild masters are like that, too.”

  “But… how could it be allowed?” Mawlik asked. “How could you—how could Chaya allow it? How could you know and not tell anyone?”

  “Does seem kind of odd, letting him just stay,” Jahlil said. “Even if he doesn’t kill people, can’t be safe having him so close to the market square. Children visit him sometimes, for sicknesses that the physikers can’t help with.”

  “You’ve just said it,” I replied. “He doesn’t actually hurt anyone and the physikers need him for healing. The way he takes blood. Only a vampire could be that good.”

  “So you let him stay knowing he’s a creature of the night?” Mawlik asked, his tone a pitch higher.

  “It’s a pretty brilliant ploy on his part,” I replied with a shrug. “I’d let him stay just out of respect.” I bent my head low, tipping an imaginary hat. “Think about it. He set up his own shop, asking people to be virtuous and donate their blood. Probably drinks half of it, gives the other half to the physikers. Leaves all of his victims alive so they fatten up and come back to him later on. Vampires ravage towns and bring destruction wherever they go. But Let’Rishi… he’s a creature of science.” I tapped my temples. “A vampire of science. The man knows what he’s doing.”

  “He’s got himself a nice little farm,” Elsa said. “And fat little pigs,” she added under her breath, throwing a sideways glance at Mawlik.

  Mawlik glowered at her, pressing his lips into a line. He had gotten a bit rounder ever since Jahlil and him started hanging around the palace more. They said it was to study the histories of Chaya like proper King’s Guard, but Jahlil was mostly there to see Elsa and Mawlik to see the kitchens.

  “And best of all, think of the reasons why people donate,” I said. “In order to help others. The virtues of mankind, feeding the hunger of a daemon. There’s poetry to it. Irony and beauty. He goes home at the end of every night, content and pleased. Opens up a bota of wine and blood. Writes in his journal—day 720, they still haven’t figured it out.”

  Jahlil and Mawlik stared into the water, shaking their heads.

  Elsa tipped an imaginary hat the same way I did, then did it again in the other direction with playful delight.

  “I’m not sure if I can ever bring myself to go again,” Jahlil whispered. “But you’re right, it’s pretty damned ingenious.”

  “Eh, she’s got a point about how it still works,” Nikhil said. “He still gives half to the healers. Think of it as a vampire tax. We really wouldn’t be able to get blood for the physikers without it.”

  “Your father knows?” Mawlik asked.

  “Nope,” I said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “And let’s keep it that way. It’s good for the people of this town. It really is. Only Taa knows. And Mother. They wouldn’t tell Father. He would have Let’Rishi staked and burned.”

  Mawlik and Jahlil both nodded hesitantly.

  “I prefer your father’s way,” Mawlik grumbled.

  “Can’t deny the simplicity of his methods,” Nikhil added. “Something anybody could aspire to.”

  “Something everybody should aspire to,” Jahlil said. “My father says he’s the best ruler in all the five kingdoms. You’ve got a tall mountain to climb, Dina.”

  “Father is king, but it’s Taa who knows the lay of the land,” I interjected. “Think what you want, but without Taa, we wouldn’t have made it through half our blue moons and droughts and praying locust swarms.”

  The four of them nodded, but I was pretty sure it was more because they didn’t want to argue than because they agreed.

  The farmland and marsh behind us was empty, but in a few more hours, shadows and surly bodies, misshapen beings and creatures of all sizes would begin to fill the empty waters, making their way toward Chaya to celebrate the blue moon. The animals inside the city walls always knew the exact day it was coming. Starting a day or two before, Chaya’s streets would begin to empty out as str
ay cats and dogs filled up nooks and corners, building makeshift shelters out of anything they could find. It wasn’t unlike the beggars we had—and neither group would have much luck finding safety outside of boarded homes or any of the three Cathedrals. The city was quieter. People were more patient. Merchants more lenient with children who had quick hands. Soldiers more restive. Priests and nuns roamed the streets, gathering small crowds when they preached about Yuweh’s code of honor or Raya’s boldness in the Eternal War. They mentioned the minor gods sometimes too, but it was Yuweh, Raya, and Stala that everyone wanted to hear about before a blue moon. The other gods were reserved for tavern bards and travelling troupes.

  I wrote a poem in my head to pass the time.

  Beyond the woods, in the wet and wild

  There lies a witch, beset and guile

  Once an angel, in flight and form

  Had her wings, trite and torn

  Above the stars, she flew and fought

  Then came crashing, into yew and naught

  Inside the city of canals and seas

  There lies a witch who lost all by a tree

  One branch it had, old and thick

  Whipped and snatched, the emboldened witch

  It showed her the way down the moonlit path

  How to goad and sway who the Dream Weaver grabs

  We stopped at the edge of the forest, stomping on the ground to get water out of our shoes. I took my boots off to check for leeches, running my fingers through the inside of the soles. The bigger ones could get smart. Sometimes, they would dig underneath the bottom layer of your shoes so you wouldn’t find them right away. I wiped the sides of my boots down with my shirt then tied them back on, as tightly as I could. The once polished black had turned into a crusted grey. Mother told me to get new ones, even scolded me about it, but I was too attached to these. I had gone through a lot with them. Adventures, runs, hikes, and treks. I wasn’t athletic by any means, but if you were close to Elsa, you could always find yourself running, or swimming, or climbing, or sliding. She had four older brothers, and a flair for competitive sports that came from her father. I also think her penchant for good fortune always helped. Luck went a far way in games like fourball.