by Lily Levi
I looked down at the thing beside me, pitiful creature that he was. “Sweet Gauter,” I said. “Sweet, sweet Gauter, I promised you the head of your worst enemy.”
“Ambrose is my worst enemy,” said Gauter between clenched teeth, sharp and stained with centuries of human blood.
“No,” I said, moving my eyes away from him and locking them onto Ambrose’s. “Serena Moon is your worst enemy, but she doesn’t have to be.”
“Moon,” Gauter repeated slowly. His white brows furrowed themselves together in reluctant understanding. “The scythe from hell sent to cull the earth of the thirteen heirs,” he chanted quietly, his voice dipping down into words long repeated through time. “The bringer of the end for the tormented and the poor of spirit; forbidden to live who yet lives; bitter daughter of two fathers, of the holy man and of Adramelech, rogue demon and hated of hell; the sought and the seeker; the light at the end; the end of the light.”
“Yes,” I said, resisting the temptation to pat him on the head like the dog that he truly was. “You know your ancient prophecies so well. But,” I said, moving my attention back to Ambrose. “A prophecy is only a prophecy until disproven - until it doesn’t happen.”
Ambrose
“Serena Moon,” I said, holding my ground against their numbers. There were so many. Had Gauter found them? Had he made them? When I’d left to take the Master’s call, there had been but sixty, perhaps seventy. I’d expected no more than one hundred to account for the inherent distaste for procreation. And Nikolai - how had he known that we would come?
“The Moon Scythe,” said Nikolai. “Living in Grindavik, you must’ve heard of it.” He bared his teeth at me. “You must’ve heard of her. Although I will admit that even I hadn’t fully understood the Master’s riddle until I knew you were coming here of all places, birthplace aside. You’ve come to feast the moon on the light of your brothers and lesser kin alike, to fill her up and let her loose upon the world with you by her side.” He clicked his tongue against the back of his razored teeth. “Saving your own skin, as per usual. Not that I blame you.”
The Moon Scythe. It wasn’t unfamiliar. My first lover had hailed from Gauter’s nest at Þingvallavatn. She had whispered the prophecy of the moon into my ear to make me rise for her even after we had finished. She had been terribly dull, but she had known how to speak with a pleasurable softness about even the most gruesome of things.
I had not believed the words, of course. It was a ghost story for the ghosts themselves to fear. Nothing more.
“I highly doubt we’re talking about the same Serena Moon.” I motioned to the empty space beside me and resisted the temptation to turn and look behind my shoulder. Zane and Theron would’ve heard what was said and I only hoped they possessed the wherewithal to take her back down to the boat and wait for me there until it made sense to wait no longer. I always found my way out, but would could Serena hope for against Nikolai and entire nest of lesser vampires, one thousand or more strong?
“The very same Serena Moon,” he purred. “The very same.” He cracked his long neck. “You’re not still playing Deadmourn’s game, are you?”
The gathered horde of lesser vampires seemed to shrink back at the sound of the Master’s name and I took what little pleasure I could from it.
“Master Deadmourn,” I corrected him with a single finger lifted high in the air. “I think that is his preferred name.” The more time we wasted on words and on varying degrees of semantics, the better.
Nikolai shook his head. “Do you see Gauter here, this creature who so reviles you?”
“Terribly sorry for your loss,” I said. They were the same words I’d used when news of his daughter’s death had reached me. She’d hung herself from the largest alder tree between Þingvallavatn and Grindavik.
It hadn’t been my fault, of course. I’d merely changed my mind about marrying her after she’d found warmth in bed with another man; a plain, mortal man of all things. Gauter did not know this and I never thought he’d needed to. He was only aware that I had promised to marry his daughter and when that promise was broken, her death was the result. I hadn’t thought to wound him further with the details of her flounderings.
Gauter growled at me, gnashing his teeth as he’d so liked to do even centuries ago.
“Yes,” I said. “I see him.”
“And,” Nikolai continued, “is he not the master of the nest at Þingvallavatn?”
“I would presume so,” I said. I eyed the rows of them, the lesser vampires of Þingvallavatn, a swath of pale skin and pale eyes. I wondered that they never tired of looking at one another, all the same as they were.
Nikolai turned around on his heel to address the silent crowd behind him. “Are you not free to choose another master or no master at all?”
Gauter’s face hardened at the question of his position and he turned, hunched and alert beneath his robes.
“We are,” said one, a woman with her hair in white braids at her temples.
“We are,” repeated another beside her and then another.
“We are,” they said in a long, dark wave of agreement.
Nikolai turned back around, arms folded. “Are we?” he asked. “Me and thee, Ambrose? Are we free as they are?”
I took out a cigarette from my coat and lit it against the biting cold of a slight breeze. It was a new habit that I could attribute to Serena, smoking in the face of danger and hard questions - brilliant. It gave one something to do instead of fumbling.
“Is that what you want?” I asked. “To be free?” I flicked the match through the air. “There’s little enough stopping you.”
“You’re stopping me,” said Nikolai, his voice suddenly grave. “The game is stopping me. The Master’s riddle, his decree for the next heir to take the dark throne, these things are stopping me. Stopping us. Can’t you see?”
I nodded. “Ah, well, I can see where you’d run into trouble with the whole ‘freedom’ thing.”
“Protect her or destroy her,” he said, recalling the Master’s riddle on the night of Orlando’s death. “And you choose to protect her to destroy the rest of us.”
If I had known she was the Moon Scythe - and if I believed in it - then his statement wouldn’t be entirely untrue. But she wasn’t and I didn’t. I’d simply grown fond of her and, in some ways, I wanted the same thing as Nikolai, to extend the game and put off the decimation of my brothers.
“You love her,” he said. “The warm glint in your eye when you look at her. I saw it. We all saw it. Brother,” he said, taking another step toward me. “If you care for her, we won’t kill her. We’ll protect her together. We’ll contain her. We’ll use her to stave off the madness of hell when none of us ascends the dark throne.”
“The prophecy,” Gauter growled. “She must be killed.”
Nikolai smiled back at him but I could see the growing agitation in the lines of his face. “Did I not say that prophecies can be changed, stopped, done away with?”
He turned back to me, pleasant once more.
I smoked quietly for a time, forcing him to wait. He needed me to agree and it was a satisfying revelation to know that he respected my strength enough to nearly beg for it. He needed me. He feared me even if he didn’t quite show it. He would need me to help him fight against the shadows that would rise should the dark throne go empty and if he didn’t have me by his side, he would wonder when I was coming for his back.
“There must be a Master,” I said at last. There was no way around it. If the Moon Scythe wasn’t real, the myriad of dark things that waited for our rule to crumble certainly were. “Besides,” I added coyly. “I never trusted you.”
His left eye twitched and a low rumble escaped Hecate’s thick throat beside him. “If I didn’t require you,” he whispered, confirming my suspicions, “then I would have all thousand of these wretches tear you apart. Alas,” he said, straightening himself once more, voice lifting. “I dream of a world that we rule together, all of us. Orl
ando is dead. There’s no need for another to die, is there?”
“By and by,” I said, taking the opportunity to scan the cliff behind me. “Where are the rest of our dear brothers?”
“Why,” said Nikolai, a slow grin spreading across his long, wicked face. “They’re with Serena, of course.”
Theron
I stretched upwards to unbar the closed sails with one eye on the cliffside where Zane had remained. Ambrose might’ve easily taken Nikolai and his hellhound down. But peering over the edge behind him, I had seen the massive nest. Even the three of us together - Ambrose, Zane, and myself - stood no chance at all. There were too many.
Serena stretched up beside me. “Let me help,” she said. Her warm scent, like smoke and dead lilies, ran up against me and for the smallest moment, I forgot Ambrose and the nest altogether.
“No,” I said. “Take Amun and go below.”
But she ignored me and together we unbarred the first sail.
“Theron,” she whispered. She reached upwards and touched the end of the long gash in the thick canvas. She looked back at me, hazel eyes wide. “Who did this?”
I let out a low whistle and Zane hesitated not but a moment before he started back down from behind where Ambrose still stood. I only hoped that he would use that silver tongue of his to keep Nikolai and the nest at bay for a small while longer.
“Theron,” she whispered.
“Take Amun and hide,” I said. “Go.”
She climbed down from beside me and grab for Amun.
“Mooooon,” he wailed, lips round.
There was the slow step of boots in the stairwell behind us, followed by the high laughter of the one I hated more than any other.
Serena stared at me, bewildered.
“Darius,” I said, turning, heart beating furiously with distaste. It was too late.
“You ruined our fun,” said Darius with a frown that couldn’t hide the smile beneath.
Pollux and Remus, heads low, emerged from behind him.
“We so wanted you to come below deck, Serena. We would’ve had a grand ol’ time, wouldn’t we have, boys? All of us - all of us and Serena.” His face puckered and he waved his hand at me. “Not you, though, Theron. Not you. Never you. Go away.” His soured face smoothed over and he took a step forward. “But you, Serena, come. We’ll have such a good time, all of us.” He extended his hand out to her.
I positioned myself in front of her. “What do you think you’re doing?” I asked. I might’ve signaled for her to run again, but it was too dangerous now.
“Hey!” Zane yelled. He clambered faster down the side of the rocks and neared the side of the boat.
“Oh my,” said Darius. “A boat party.” He lunged forward and swiped behind me to grab at Serena.
She stumbled backwards against the railings, Amun’s hand in hers. “Don’t you dare,” she spat at him.
“Or what?” asked Pollux, pale eyes darting from me to her. Remus only watched with a silent interest.
Darius raised his hand high in the air. “Oh, oh, I know! She’ll scream at us, and so wickedly, too. I like screamers.” He tilted his head. “I like boats, too. I like vampires. But there are too many vampires on this boat.” He turned his gaze to me and pointed. “Water,” he said. “Now. Put him in it.”
Pollux and Remus stepped forward and each made a grab for one of my shoulders.
“Sorry, Theron,” said Remus. And I believed him too, that he was sorry.
I was sorry, too.
I swung myself against Remus, the weakest of them, and brought him down against the deck with a heavy thud.. I wasted no time in wrapping my hands around his neck and pressing my knee into the center of his stomach, even as he struggled to stand.
“Theron!” cried Serena.
“Oh jolly,” said Darius, almost too calmly. I’d expected his teeth to already be at my flesh. “Kill him then,” he said. “Kill him!”
“Darius,” Remus choked beneath my hand. “Get him off.” He squirmed beneath me but I held fast because there was nothing else to do.
We were well and truly fucked, didn’t I know that? But we had always been fucked, each one of us, all of us meant to die at the teeth of the winning heir. And what had I done in the meantime from the Master’s first discovery of me to the very moment I found myself in?
Nothing to be remembered by, nothing at all. I had hunted and then slaughtered whole species in the Master’s name from the lycanthropes of Madagascar to the sirens of Denmark - and for what? I had killed for no benefit to anyone whatsoever.
But now… now.
I squeezed Remus’s neck.
He clawed at my forearms, his face a pale sort of blue. “Help,” he gasped, but the neither Darius nor Pollux moved to stop me. Were they afraid?
No, of course not. Why would they be afraid? But it didn’t matter. I would leave the world with one less dark heir to hunt Serena.
“Run, Serena,” I growled, though of course there was nowhere to run. She could never outrun any of us. We would always be there.
“Zane!” Serena cried out and I could sense the shape of him hoisting himself up onto the deck beside me.
I wasn’t a hero. I would never be that. Killing Remus was the most heroic thing I could do, as pitiful as it was. And then what?
“I’m sorry, brother,” I said. My knuckles turned a harrowing white against his skin. I would kill him. He couldn’t move from beneath me no matter how he tried. I was like a stone upon him. It was nearly effortless. He was second to only Orlando in weakness and I imagined it was how Cain had felt taking Orlando to the ground and crushing his flesh between his teeth.
Darius crouched beside me and put a soft hand on my back. “Will you really, truly, really kill him?” he asked. “Because I only wanted to see you swim, that was all. We don’t want to kill you.” He looked up, smiling. “Or even her, no, no, not Serena. We will love her, won’t we, Remus?”
But Remus’s pale eyes could only bulge out from his skull.
Zane’s dark frame knelt beside me on the other side of Darius and I half-wondered why he didn’t lunge for him or Pollux.
“Theron,” he said, leaning inward. “Stop.”
My tight grip loosened almost involuntarily around Remus’s throat and he coughed for what air I would let him have.
“They don’t want to kill us,” Zane said. His eyes searched mine and I could tell by their clarity that he meant what he said. “Nikolai doesn’t want us dead. He doesn’t want any of us dead. I heard it myself. When has he lied to us, Theron?”
Darius laughed at this. “Nikolai doesn’t lie. Oh, I love him, I do.”
Zane reached out to touch my arm, tense with my hold on Remus. “Communist Russia,” he said.
I stared at him and released my grip from Remus’s neck. I sat back on the deck, unbelieving. But what was there not to believe? Nikolai had spent his early life espousing the ideals of communism and had suffered to watch them burn.
“Communism,” I repeated, suddenly exhausted. I understood and yet I did not.
Remus crawled up onto his knees, coughing. “A new world order,” he said, voice husky. I could nearly taste the pained sarcasm behind the words.
“Glory for us all,” agreed Darius. “Even you, little Theron.”
I looked up at Pollux but he only stared down at me.
I took a long breath and waited for the pieces to fall into place, for all of it to make sense. I desperately wished that Ambrose were there with us instead of atop the cliff. I trusted his navigation. I always had.
“Where’s Cain?” I asked, sitting back. I had never known Pollux to be without him. “And the others,” I added. “Where are they?”
Darius stood and took a precursory glance from one end of the vessel to the other. “Better yet,” said Darius, voice lowering into a seriousness he rarely partook in. “Where’s our little lamb?”
Cain
The Master had not spoken to me since he’d used Pollux as
his mouthpiece. And Pollux… Pollux. His influence had waned as sure as the moon. I was my own and if I was still angry, it was because I had been denied such a thing for too long.
We sat against the cliffside, far enough from Nikolai and the others to not be noticed, but close enough to strike at the best opportunity, should one arise.
But I trusted them less than I trusted Nikolai; less than Ambrose and Pollux; less than all the world of dark things. They meant to harm Serena and I would kill them for it when the time was right and I was able.
I pressed my hands against my knees and stared down at their size and the raw strength they held, never my own, always the tool of another.
But no more. What a strange thing to know oneself beyond the fog of hate. It was a silent kind of control that I had not felt since my youth, since before the Master came to me and took me up as his own.
“And how do we decide?” Ivan asked, breaking my thoughts.
Felix patted the rock beside him and pointed to where Nikolai would still be, undoubtedly, one hundred or so meters away and standing atop the muddied ground with the corralled nest. “Nikolai wants fairness,” he said. “But he wants it the wrong way. We draw straws for who gets to kill her. Nothing to do with strength or intellect.” He paused to eye me. “Just something fair.”
“The best of both worlds,” Desmond mused. He leaned back against the rocks. “Equality and a new king. Democracy, communism, and monarchism, all in one. Glorious, isn’t it?”
Mathias nodded at him. “I just want to know how we can trust each other not to kill her before the straws are drawn - or after.”
I looked at the faces of the other four in turn: Mathias, Desmond, Felix, Ivan. Pale eyes, pale skin, and hearts just as pale and cold. “We can’t,” I said flatly. “We can’t trust each other.”
Felix cleared his throat. “But the alternatives are worse, do consider that. Ambrose would make himself the new master, there is no doubt. And Nikolai, he claims to want a shared rule, but the risk is too great to follow him.”
“Yes,” said Desmond. “All of hell will rise to take the Master’s throne if none of us are willing to take it for ourselves. Does he truly believe we can fend them off forever? Monsters the like we have never seen. We will all perish following Nikolai’s lead. No, this is the only way.” He took a long breath. “The best way. At least one of us will live on.”