A Shade of Vampire 15: A Fall of Secrets

by Forrest, Bella

  I found it bizarre that Lilith would have requested someone to be written on her stone who was not even dead yet. I’d never heard of a witch requesting a living person to be written on their slab. That was considered bad luck.

  My mind felt like one big jumbled-up puzzle. Too many pieces with no rhyme or reason as to how to put them together.

  I have wasted enough time here already. I should just return to The Shade and try to invoke more memories that will hopefully be of more value than those graveyard ones.

  Still, as I kept staring down at that single name with no death date, I couldn’t help but feel that this might be the closest I might come to a clue, no matter how many liters of memory potion I drank.

  Chapter 32: Mona

  I felt crazy even for thinking it, let alone acting on it. But I did. I decided to stay overnight in that terrifying graveyard. I just couldn’t bring myself to leave The Sanctuary—the only place where I had any chance of discovering some clue about this Magnus person—until I had at least tried to find out about him.

  It was custom for the caretaker to come early each morning and clean away the moss from the newer graves up front by the gates. I wouldn’t have been surprised if it was still old Shamus on duty.

  So there I found myself, huddled against a tree as close to the front gates as possible. Of course, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t shut my eyes even for a moment without feeling jittery. I just kept my gaze on the gates, waiting patiently for the caretaker to walk through once the sun peeked above the horizon.

  As it turned out, I was waiting longer than dawn. At least sitting here wasn’t so unbearable once the sun was shining. I was actually starting to enjoy the view. The graveyard was situated on a hill and it overlooked the sparkling ocean.

  Judging by the position of the sun, it was almost noon by the time the gates swung open and an old warlock appeared. Indeed, it was Shamus. He looked no less grumpy now than he had all those years ago. Once he had closed the gates behind him, he made his way toward the first grave. I stood before him and relinquished my invisibility spell. His face paled as if he had just seen a ghost.

  “Y-You?” His face scrunched up as he squinted at me.

  Clearly, he recognized me as the outcast and traitor that I had been labeled again by the white witches. Before he could vanish and inform anyone of my presence, I arrested him with a spell, pinning him to the spot.

  I held up my hands. “I am not going to harm you, Shamus,” I said. “I just need to ask you a few questions. Then I promise that I will leave this place.”

  He glared daggers at me, but since he had no other option, he nodded.

  “I’m going to give you control of your mouth again, but you must promise that you won’t scream or shout. If you do, I’m going to be forced to shut you up again… and perhaps take more drastic measures. Do you understand?”

  He nodded again, his blotchy face reddening with fury.

  It was too risky to stand with him here right by the gates. I moved us toward the back of the graveyard, reappearing right in front of Lilith’s grave. I pointed down at the etchings on the stone.

  “Do you know anything about Lilith?” I asked. He certainly looked haggard enough to have been around long enough to know at least something about her.

  “I know a little,” he growled.

  I pointed to Magnus’s name. “Do you know who this person is?”

  “Lilith’s loved one, obviously.”

  “Why is there no death date here?” I asked.

  “Most likely Lilith only provided us with the birth date and did not know when he died.”

  “Could this person have still been alive when Lilith was buried?”

  Shamus scoffed. “Do you honestly think that an Ancient would have gone against such a basic custom? Of course he must’ve been dead.”

  “Then how could we have not known the death date? The Council records births and deaths of every single resident of The Sanctuary. The information is etched onto all the other graves here—”

  “Perhaps Magnus did not live in The Sanctuary,” Shamus said. “Perhaps he lived outside.”

  “Outside…” I muttered. “Then Magnus wasn’t a warlock?”

  Shamus rolled his eyes. “You always did strike me as a dimwitted one. Of course he must’ve been a warlock. Just because he lived outside The Sanctuary doesn’t mean he wasn’t one of us. In the Ancients’ time, there were a number of reasons why witches and warlocks would be stationed outside.” He shook his head in disbelief that I should even ask such a question. “It’s considered treasonous even now for a witch to have a relationship with anyone but their own kind, not to speak of in those times…”

  I paused, wondering if Shamus’ words were really true.

  “I have answered your questions,” he said. “You should leave.”

  I looked at the warlock, then nodded.

  “Okay, I will.”

  As promised, I released him and vanished myself away from the graveyard. But I was not yet ready to leave The Sanctuary. I reappeared on the beach outside the boundary again, making myself invisible as I sat down on a cluster of rocks. I stared out at the calm ocean as speculation after speculation flooded my brain as to who and what Magnus really was.

  Chapter 33: Mona

  I realized that there was one sure way to find out Magnus’ identity—or at least to confirm whether he was a warlock, as Shamus had insisted upon. If he was one of us, then he must have been born in The Sanctuary. This was another rule strict followers of the Ancients abided by. Even if a witch was stationed outside, she was required to give birth to her child within the confines of The Sanctuary.

  I waited until night had fallen before standing up and dusting myself off. I penetrated the boundary once again and this time I headed straight for the Council’s meeting hall, within the Adriuses’ castle. As expected, the room was empty at this time of night. I walked across the hall and stopped above a trap door in one of the corners. Climbing down through it, I was glad to see that this basement still served as the witches’ archives. There were shelves upon shelves of leather binders and countless cupboards and cabinets filled with documents. It was all neatly labeled and organized, so it didn’t take me long to find what I was looking for—the birth records section. I already knew the date of Magnus’ birth, since that had been written on the tombstone, so I soon located the right shelf. I flipped through the month he’d been born in. There wasn’t a record of any Magnuses born then. I flipped through the parchment a second time, just to be sure I hadn’t missed anything, before replacing everything neatly.

  So, Lilith had loved a man called Magnus. But he had not been a warlock.

  This alone was intriguing. I was shocked that Lilith could’ve broken such a fundamental rule.

  I didn’t know what exactly the relationship between Lilith and Magnus had been, but she’d held enough affection for him to want to list him as the only person on her tombstone.

  Now that I thought about it further, she hadn’t provided a surname for Magnus either. Perhaps there was a reason for that. Perhaps Lilith had wanted to give as little information about him as possible to avoid him being identified. She’d hoped that people would just assume he was a warlock, as Shamus had.

  I returned to my spot on the beach and sat down again, rubbing my fingers against my temples as I tried to process this new information.

  I grappled with the idea that a person with as black a heart as Lilith could be capable of loving anyone at all, much less a non-warlock. I never would have guessed that she would be able to experience such emotions.

  I recalled the ritual Lilith had performed to turn me into a Channeler. Rhys had made it clear that the only way for it to work was for me to be accompanied by someone I loved. I had been too nervous at the time for this to strike me, but now that I thought about it, I realized just how bizarre it was. Love and emotions never came into the equation with black witches. It was all about duty and service to a higher cause.
The fact that Lilith relied on the power of love to perform such an important procedure as creating Channelers seemed to be at odds with everything she and the black witches stood for.

  What I wouldn’t give to get inside that twisted woman’s head…

  My breathing became heavier as soon as I had the thought. Unwanted memories resurfaced, memories of that day in Lilith’s cave when she had turned me into a Channeler. When she had probed my mind, seeing my every thought, my every fear, my most cherished memories… my palms grew sweaty as I remembered how violated I had felt to have her dark presence touching the deepest part of my consciousness.

  I shook away the memory, attempting to bury it again, as I always did whenever I recalled that day. But then something made me stop. A sudden flash of recollection—a vision that had entered my mind during those hours I’d been trapped in the cave. A vision that had not been a memory of my own.

  A pale brunette young woman with dark brown—almost black—eyes, sitting in front of a mirror and staring at herself.

  Although I’d tried to forget everything about the day I’d visited that cave with Rhys, it dawned on me that I had to stop trying to forget. I had to start trying to remember.

  Could it be that, as she’d had full access to my mind, I’d had access to hers?

  At the time I had been so overwhelmed by her presence in my mind and then afterward I had been so desperate to forget… what I had witnessed from her side had never truly sunk into my consciousness.

  I shot to my feet.

  I need another memory potion.

  Chapter 34: Mona

  I didn’t want to go all the way back to The Shade to use Corrine’s spell room, and since it was still dark, it was safe for me to enter the city now and try to find a solution. I tried to think which potion room would be stocked with the greatest variety of ingredients. None would compare to the kitchen of the Adriuses. I already knew where it was located, so once I’d passed through the boundary, I vanished myself straight into the large chamber.

  It was the most beautifully designed and well-stocked potion room I had ever been in. A witch’s paradise, this room made Corrine’s pale in comparison. I found all the ingredients I needed to whip up the memory potion in no time.

  Once the potion was ready, I poured it into a jug and returned to the beach.

  I had made this memory potion much stronger than the one I had taken earlier. I would need to probe into those memories I had fought so hard to lock away. Although witches didn’t often walk along this beach, and especially not among these rocks, I couldn’t take any chances. I would be unaware of my surroundings while under the influence of the potion. I looked around and spotted a little cranny in the side of the cliff about fifty feet away. I hurried toward it, careful not to spill any of the potion in the process, and was pleased to see that it was just the right size for me to slip into. I climbed inside and huddled as far back as I could. Stretching out my legs, my back leaning against the wall, I placed the jug between my legs.

  This time before taking a sip, I focused all my concentration on the question: What memories of Lilith did I access that day in her cave?

  Reaching for the jug, I took the first sip. I almost choked from how strong I had made the formula. Leaning my head back against the rocks, I closed my eyes.

  The vision of her cave came flooding back, the dim lanterns casting shadows around the walls, the rancid smell of her pool, the claustrophobic feel in the chamber from lack of oxygen. I saw myself kneeling before Lilith, her bony hands closing in around my skull…

  A young woman sat before a mirror in a large circular bedroom. She wore a long black dress that covered her feet and extended to her wrists. Withdrawing a silk cloth from one of the drawers in her dressing table, she wrapped it around her head and tied it in a knot. When she stood up, her frame was tall and slender. Her forehead creased as she stared at her reflection.

  A voice called from outside the room. “Lilith.”

  The brunette stood up and opened the door. Another brunette entered the room.

  “Sister,” she said, clutching Lilith’s shoulder, “What is taking you so long? We are waiting for you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Lilith replied, her voice slightly hoarse.

  Lilith’s sister caught her hand and pulled her out of the bedroom, into a corridor outside. They vanished and reappeared outside, on top of a grassy hill. It was nighttime, and there were no clouds in the sky. The moon shone down, thousands of stars glistening. A tall older-looking woman was standing several feet away, gripping the back of a chair that had been set atop the soil. Sitting in this chair was a girl, blindfolded and gagged.

  The older woman beckoned the two girls over. “Shana,” the woman called, addressing Lilith’s sister. “Stand next to me.” Shana did as requested. “Lilith, pick it up.” She pointed to the ground and as soon as she did, an ax manifested. Lilith’s hands seemed to tremble slightly as she stared at the sharp blade.

  “Yes, Mother,” she replied. Taking a step forward, Lilith gripped the handle and picked it up.

  “Good,” her mother said. “You know what to do now.”

  Lilith nodded, her lips parting as she fixed her eyes on the blindfolded girl.

  Shana and her mother began uttering a chant while Lilith continued to inch forward until she was barely a foot away from the girl, who appeared to be unconscious. Her head lolled to one side, but she was still clearly breathing.

  Raising the ax, Lilith swiped the blade across the girl’s neck, severing her head with one swipe.

  Lilith dropped the ax to the ground as blood began to spout from the corpse’s neck. She dipped her fingers into the fountain of blood and painted two crosses either side of her cheek. Then Lilith traced an octagonal shape on her forehead.

  The two women finished chanting. Lilith’s mother stepped forward, resting hands on Lilith’s shoulders. She smiled. “Happy birthday, my daughter. May you have many more years to come…”

  My eyes fluttered open as the vision disappeared. I stared straight ahead, trying to make sense of what I had just witnessed. Then I took another sip from the jug and allowed myself to sink back into Lilith’s memories.

  Lilith, now dressed in a flowing emerald-green gown, stood in the corner of the palace’s ballroom with her mother and an older man who appeared to be her father. Lilith was clasping her gloved hands nervously together, shooting fleeting glances at the dancing couples around the room. Several crystal chandeliers hung from the ceiling, casting down a warm glow upon the revelers beneath.

  “They have arrived,” Lilith’s father said, pointing to two men who had just walked through the entrance. Lilith and her parents stared at the men—apparently father and son. They had light blond hair and grayish eyes, and the same broad shoulders. The younger blond man’s eyes fixed on Lilith as soon as he caught sight of her. They weaved their way through the crowd and arrived in front of Lilith and her parents.

  The father held out a hand to Lilith’s father. “Meet my son, Crispian,” he said.

  Lilith’s parents shook hands with Crispian, but Lilith seemed to be avoiding the young man’s gaze. Her eyes were fixed on her feet. Her mother nudged her and only then did she raise her eyes to look briefly at Crispian. She held out her hand, allowing Crispian to take it and kiss the back of it.

  “Would you care to dance?” Crispian asked.

  Lilith glanced up at her mother, then nodded. The young blond man smiled, while Lilith’s eyes remained cold, as Crispian placed an arm around her waist and guided her toward the dance floor.

  Surfacing once again, I didn’t bother to open my eyes this time. I just pressed the jug to my lips and swallowed another deep gulp.

  The sun shone overhead, the warmth of the afternoon bringing a slight blush to Lilith’s pale cheeks. She stood in the center of a rose garden wearing a white wedding dress. She pulled the veil down over her face, fixing her gaze straight ahead at the flower-covered gazebo just beyond the garden. Crowds of witc
hes were settling themselves into the rows of seats in front of a raised platform at the back of the shelter.

  White rose petals had been scattered on the ground to form a path leading from where Lilith stood up to the platform where a handsome blond warlock stood dressed in a smart gray outfit.

  Lilith began to make her way slowly toward the groom. Her knuckles were white as she clutched a bouquet of flowers. Her lips formed a smile that did not reach her eyes. On reaching the platform, she looked down at the sea of faces. As they exchanged vows, Lilith’s voice was shaky. Crispian looked down at her adoringly, slipping a ring on to her finger and pushing his lips against hers.

  Then the scene faded away, being replaced moments later by a bedroom. Lilith—still in her wedding dress—and Crispian stood together in the center, surrounded by a circle of red candles. Crispian had his arms around his bride while she rested her head against his chest. They swayed gently from side to side. Then Crispian manifested a knife in his hands. Holding Lilith closer against him, he ran its tip down the back of her dress, splitting it open. He rolled her sleeves down her shoulders, discarding the dress, before deftly cutting away her undergarments. He took a step away from her, his eyes roaming her bare form for perhaps the first time.

  “Sit,” he whispered.

  Folding her long legs beneath her, she obeyed.

  Crispian knelt on the floor next to her and picked up one of the candles. He swirled it around gently, loosening some of the warm wax. Sliding his hand into her hair, he tilted her head backward and dripped a thin line of the red wax from her chest down to her navel. Then, picking her up in his arms, he carried her over to the circular bed and laid her down before proceeding to undress himself. As he began to make love to her, Lilith’s eyes remained distant.

  I took another sip of potion…

  Lilith wore a black cloak, her hood pulled up as she ran along one of The Sanctuary’s cobblestone roads. Her breathing was heavy and uneven as she ran. She didn’t slow down until she’d exited the city, passed through the suburbs, and arrived at the beach. She collapsed to her knees, digging her hands into the sand.