“You came back.” The vampire appeared on the path ahead, seemingly out of nowhere. “It’s been a while. Thought your husband didn’t approve.”
Velsa rummaged in her pocket and took out a tin. “Cigarettes.”
He reached out a gloved hand but she pulled them back. “What will you give me for them?” she asked.
“Give you? I don’t have anything to give.”
“I want to know who Flynn is.”
He groaned. “I really don’t know much about him. We’ve never even met. One of his friends was out here snooping around and that’s how I got involved.”
“What’s your name? How about that?”
“Dennis.”
“Do you have maternal and paternal names, too?”
“Faraday is my last name. My paternal name, you would say. We don’t use our mother’s name the way you do.”
“Faraday. That sounds like a Daramon name.”
“Gee, I guess I was meant to be here,” he said, with some sarcasm. “It’s English.” For some reason, today he was wearing a cloak and gloves, and he tugged the hood farther forward around his face. “The way you look at me is so unnerving. You don’t blink enough.”
“I could try to blink more…”
“But then I don’t know why you blink at all, so I don’t know if I want you to blink more. It’s like when you tip those dolls backwards and they close their eyes to sleep…”
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about but I think you have no idea how to speak politely to Fanarlem. I’m considered to be very pretty here, you know,” she said. “I thought you didn’t get cold,” she added, gesturing to his cloak.
“I’m sensitive to the sun. It was overcast the other day. It’s one of the disadvantages of being a vampire.”
“What a strange way of being undead. You’re strong and fast, somewhat resistant to telepathic intrusion…but sensitive to sunlight? Why?”
“I haven’t any idea. I am stronger here than I was on Earth, though. Something about the blood they gave me in the palace really made me feel alive again.”
“It was probably Daramon blood. It’s enchanted because of a spell Kalan cast over a hundred years ago, so they are very hard to kill.”
“I heard,” Dennis said. “Or, I saw. There’s a mural of it in the Palace. The Ten Thousand Man Sacrifice. He seems very proud of it. Does he still sacrifice people often?”
“I don’t know what he does,” Velsa said. “That’s why I want to know more about Flynn, and this rebellion, and everything that’s going on. Would you at least tell me more about the Fallen Lands?”
He looked at her for a moment, which was unusual since he mostly kept his eyes pointed anywhere else. “I suppose I would tell you a little more about America, if you really want to know.”
“Is that your country?”
He nodded and then wiggled his fingers, wanting the cigarettes.
When she gave them to him, he peeked inside and frowned. “This isn’t tobacco. It’s that other stuff.”
“It’s tiralem nef. It costs more than tobacco and it definitely smells better; I thought I was being nice. I’ve heard the effect is similar.”
“I guess it’s worth a try.” He started walking down the path. “First off, I don’t like this name, ‘Fallen Lands.’ From what I gather, you got that name back in the Dark Ages. Nothing fallen about America. It’s a heck of a country. It’s so different from here, it’s hard to even know where to begin. It’s a very large country. A very new country, as these things go. Always growing and changing. The cities are hectic and exciting, and the countryside is vast and beautiful…” He sounded wistful.
“Does it look the same as here?” she asked.
“Sort of. Out here in the forest, away from people, I can pretend I’m in the same world.”
“How are the people different? Besides Fanarlem?”
He put his hands in his pockets and looked at the sky, contemplating. “That’s like asking why Americans are different from Africans or Chinese. You’re different in more ways than I can count, but…” He paused. “Of course, you have magic here. You don’t know death the way we do. In America, death makes everyone equal, in the end. We all die and none of us know when and no one can do anything about it, not even the richest of men. Here, I’m told that power can buy immortality. That seems very dangerous to me. It must change everything.”
“It never used to be true,” Velsa said. “In history, healers could keep wealthy people alive for a little longer, but only a few people have ever lived past two hundred. Maybe the reason we never see Kalan is because he’s dying…”
He shook his head. “I think it’s a bad business, this immortality thing. As a vampire I’m immortal myself. I haven’t changed since 1906, and I know that if I ever saw my sisters again, they would be married women now. One day I will realize they must be dead. And here I am, living on and on…”
“That’s very sad…” She didn’t like thinking about it, because she was immortal herself, and Grau was not. Magic could hide his aging, to some extent, but it still wasn’t the same.
“Yes, it is sad. That’s why I didn’t want to talk to you about it.”
“I’m sorry…” Talking about home is painful to him, she thought. Of course it is…
“Do you know how a person would go about joining the rebellion?” Velsa asked, changing course. “If they wanted to rebel?”
He huffed. “I wonder if I could show you something. It’s a distance away, but I think you might…you might want to see it. This is what I just reported to Flynn.” Whatever it was, he seemed agitated. “I don’t know much about the rebellion. I don’t know much about anything here. I just know what I see.”
“How far is it?” she asked.
“On the other side of the mountain.” He pointed to a sheer, rocky face looming through the bare trees. “I’ll have to carry you on my back, I guess. It isn’t proper but I’ve lost all propriety these days. Well—not all propriety. Not in a thousand years would I take any liberties with a…Fanarlem.”
“Yes. I think you’ve made that clear. Let’s see it.” She already knew she didn’t have much to fear from Dennis.
He hoisted her up on his back as if she were made of paper. Although he was shorter than Grau, she could tell how strong he was. As soon as he had her situated piggyback, he started running, and his stride seemed faster than any Daramon, almost as fast as a horse. When she looked sideways, the landscape was a blur of brown branches. She kept her eyes pointed ahead, where the view stayed more steady.
It was a good thing she was a Fanarlem and not prone to discomfort. He never slowed down, not even when the path sloped uphill, but the trip still took time. Some spots along the way could only be passed by clambering over or leaping between rocks. The sun was halfway down the sky before he stopped.
“This is it,” he said, in a sober tone.
“What?” She tried to drop to the ground, but he tightened his grip on her legs.
“Her,” he said. “I’m looking for the tree.” He sniffed the air before picking up his pace.
He stopped with his hand on the trunk of an evergreen, and looked up into the spread of branches. “Hang on.”
“You’re being very cryptic!” she exclaimed as he started to climb. Her innards tingled with nerves.
“There’s a girl up here,” he said. “But…I haven’t explained it because I don’t know how to explain it.”
In the upper branches, a hammock held a figure wrapped in a shroud. Dennis climbed until they were perched just above. The tree swayed gently with the shifting of his weight, and the shroud swung with the motion. Velsa had not been the least bit seasick on their ocean voyage, and in fact had not even known herself to be capable of nausea, but this made her feel a little funny inside. She dug her fingers into Dennis’s cloak.
Dennis paused just a moment to regard the figure. She was small, around Velsa’s size. Her body was a straight, boxy shape, like she was encased in something. I
t made Velsa think of a cocoon.
Very slowly, very softly, the chest of this concealed shape rose and fell with slow breath.
What is going on? Velsa had her suspicions.
Carefully, he peeled back the shroud to reveal a girl’s face. She was pale and waxen. Corpse-like. But in the quiet woods, Velsa heard the sound of her breath whispering out of her lips like a secret. Her thick dark hair fell across her shoulders.
“She’s alive,” Dennis said. “Where I come from, we have a story about Sleeping Beauty. A witch curses her to fall asleep until she is woken by a kiss. I thought about that—”
“Did you kiss her?”
“I pecked her. It was worth a try.” He grimaced. “I think it’s supposed to be the kiss of a prince. Or one’s true love. Which, clearly, I am neither. Anyway, I stumbled on her a few weeks ago and I couldn’t wake her up.”
“Weeks ago?”
“I smelled her blood on the wind. Traced it up here. Carefully, I unwrapped the shroud…” He pulled the layers of thin white fabric away from her neck and chest until he revealed glossy black feathers. The feathers began at her pale shoulders, sprouting from her skin. Wings wrapped around her body, explaining the odd shape.
“A winged girl,” Dennis said. “Like this wasn’t strange enough already. A damned winged girl asleep in a tree.”
“Calban,” Velsa said. “He wants to be able to transform into a bird. She must be some sort of test subject.”
“He wants to transform into a bird,” Dennis repeated. “Of course he does. This is the land of fairy tales, I guess. But it gets much worse.” Dennis looked down at the ground. “Before the snow fell, I found a grave. It was fresh, so I dug it up.”
“Is that your usual reaction to finding a fresh grave?”
“Well, out here it is. I didn’t know what it was. Could have been buried treasure. The shape of the dig site wasn’t quite human, mind you. And it was not a pretty sight. Another winged girl…hardly human, really. She had the body of a misshapen bird. Like a dead harpy.”
“A harpy?”
“A myth. Women with the bodies of birds.” He covered the girl’s face again.
“I don’t understand why they would do this to someone…,” Velsa said, but she didn’t really mean ‘they’. She meant Irik.
“Well, then, I’m not alone,” Dennis said. “I worry that I’ll find Sleeping Beauty’s grave next time.”
“I wonder if my telepathy could wake her…”
“Got a taste for danger, do you?” His eyes lingered on the girl. “I’ve thought about it…but…a vampire’s blood lust can be overwhelming. If I brought her back to my cabin, I might hurt her myself.”
“You don’t seem very hungry now.”
“It’s the smell of blood that stirs it up, so I’m safe with you, but if you had veins, it would be another story. Nah, I didn’t come here to save anyone. I’m just taking care of myself.”
“Then why would you show this to me?”
“You wanted to know what Flynn is doing. Well, he’s just trying to figure it all out. I want to go home, but I don’t want to get too involved. I just exchange messages sometimes. I told him about this, but I haven’t heard back…”
“Was that the message you gave Sorla?”
“Yes.”
“I see.” She had an inward rush of relief. The entire revolution probably didn’t hang on the fate of that message, then. And if she could find Flynn, she could tell him about this herself. “Do you know where Sweetheart Caverns is?”
“The meeting place? A bit south of here.” He pointed. “Those rocky hills. I haven’t spent much time there. Kids like to hang out on the rocks—too exposed for my taste. Poor hunting, too.”
Suddenly, two sharp sounds of displaced air heralded teleportation nearby. They weren’t alone. Dennis went completely still in the swaying tree.
“All right.” A girl’s voice spoke, very businesslike and a tad bored. “Which tree is it?”
Parsons.
Parsons.
And when Velsa sensed out who was accompanying her, she found Irik. For some reason, she was more surprised that Irik and Parsons would be working together than that they would be here at all.
It seemed to be just the two of them.
“Not these,” Irik said. “Up past the creek, here.”
There was no time to wonder why they were here. Velsa was almost positive the question ‘which tree is it?’ would be answered with the tree where she and Dennis were perched.
“This one here, I think,” Irik said, her voice getting closer.
Parsons huffed. “This isn’t going to go well, is it? I thought Calban was trusting me with a good job. I should have known better.”
“Best not to think of it,” Irik said. “She would have spent her whole life in prison if she hadn’t agreed.”
Parsons sounded displeased. “But experimenting on prisoners feels…” She broke off. “Let’s just get it over with.”
Fates! Velsa stared around wildly, as if there was anything to be done. She doubted that Irik and Parsons had been sent to kill the winged girl themselves, but they might be here to deliver her to the person who would.
We have to get out of here! Velsa’s voice exploded out telepathically to Dennis—in fact, she was slightly terrified she might have projected the thought to Irik and Parsons as well.
“Someone was just here,” Irik said, in a wary tone. Her head came through the branches below them just as Dennis leapt to the next tree. Velsa shrieked. She couldn’t help it; she had not expected that at all. No human could have made that jump. The evergreen shook from his weight.
“What—there!” Parsons shouted. Velsa pressed her face to Dennis’s back so Parsons wouldn’t recognize her.
Dennis sprung to another tree. Velsa didn’t care to watch these terrifying acrobatic feats of his either.
“What is that!?” Parsons cried.
“Damn it!” Dennis raced to the bottom of the tree and started running, bursting through brush. Velsa’s hood fell off her hair, and branches yanked at her locks. She kept her eyes closed. If Parsons and Irik couldn’t identify her, it would be all right, and thankfully her cloak had covered her entirely while Dennis was jumping around the trees.
“Follow them!” Already, Parsons’ voice was a bit distant. Dennis was a force of nature when he put his mind to it, but his speed also must be leaving a very easy track behind them, and if Irik changed into leopard form, she might not be too far behind.
“Hang on, doll,” Dennis said.
She managed to get ahold of her hair, now riddled with evergreen needles and twigs, and twist it around to her shoulder so she wouldn’t lose any strands.
Dennis stopped in front of a rock face. “We’ll shake them off here.”
“You can climb those rocks, too?”
“I think so. Well…if the worst should happen, neither of us can die from a fall, can we?”
She pulled her hood over her head as far as it would reach. Dennis began to climb. He was reasonably fast at this, too, but the climb did require some calculation. Her legs hung into space and she gripped his neck, wondering how on earth she had gotten herself in this situation, clinging to a strange man on a cliff face, in terror of Parsons.
They were nearing the top when she heard motion below them.
Dennis briefly glanced down. “There’s some kind of—cheetah down there.”
“A leopard,” Velsa said. “The flesh girl can change into a leopard.”
“And let me guess. The doll girl can turn into artillery.”
Velsa looked at the sky. She had been the one to help Irik control her shape-shifting, and now it was turned against her.
Dennis clawed his way to the top of the rock face and collapsed in the snow, bringing her down with him. She scrambled to her feet. “What now?” she hissed.
“I need blood…” He pressed his palms to the ground and managed to rise to peer over the side. “Hopefully leopards can’t c
limb rocks,” he said. “And I presume if that teleportation magic they have worked up here they would have used it already? Wow, we really are high up. I hardly realized.”
She dared to peer down. The tree tops were well below them now. Parsons said something and Velsa heard it echo on the rock face but she couldn’t quite make out the words.
“They’re going back,” Dennis said. “They’ve given up. I guess we’re safe for now.”
“We might be, but…”
“Sleeping Beauty isn’t.”
Chapter 12
“We could circle around the side of the mountain and see what they’re doing,” Dennis said.
“But what—what do we do?”
“Stop them. Maybe.”
“I know those girls. I can’t let them see me. Our only chance is…” Velsa’s mind warred. If she tried to stop them, she might put her entire family in danger. But then, was she just supposed to go home and forget about all of this? “If you can get the girl out of there, I can hang back and maybe addle their minds a little bit so they don’t remember you. They’re not telepathic.”
He rubbed his chin, obviously thinking. In fact, he was almost making a little too much of a fuss about thinking. “I suppose I’m willing to try…”
“But if we go to all the trouble of saving her, you’d better not drink her blood.”
“That will be the hardest part.” He took a flask of liquor from his pocket and took a swig. “Keeps my mind off my hunger,” he said. “All this running around works up a powerful appetite. C’mon.”
As they resumed their run, Velsa ran through a list of regrets. She probably never should have come out here in the first place. She certainly had never intended to team up with Dennis. Even if she had nothing to fear from him, he was inappropriate company. She had never imagined this would turn into such an escapade.
But, then, he probably hadn’t imagined that either.
Although they took a longer route, they seemed to arrive back at the tree soon after Irik and Parsons. Dennis climbed up another evergreen not far away, so they could peer out of the branches.
“Can you change back?” Parsons was asking Irik. “Irik? Please. Here are your clothes.” She threw them at Irik’s head.
The Sorcerer’s Wife Page 13