Dark of Night
Page 120
“Oh, yeah. I forget you don’t know our wolf forms. That’s Lukas.” She could tell the answer surprised him. As a man, Lukas was well-muscled but thin. But as a wolf, he was massive.
“It’s as though the wolf has transformed all of the man’s strength into pure size,” Caleb said, a little bit amazed.
“I guess that’s true enough. I’ve never really given much thought to why wolves look as they do. They just are who they are.”
As they watched, Lukas sprang up and leapt toward the vampire. With his size and the speed of his jump, he would have pushed the vampire down, would have thumped into the boy’s chest and landed that way, close to the vampire’s neck, except the boy extended the staff he carried and jabbed at him. The force of the blow, combined with the force of Lukas’s own jump meant that the weapon hit the wolf hard in the chest. Lukas crumpled for a second, but only a second. After falling to the ground below him, he quickly regained his feet and was up and moving again. The vampire wouldn’t be taken down, though, using the thick staff to sweep the space in front of him, blocking Lukas again and again.
“This one,” Caleb said, thoughtfully. “I don’t know him well. His name is Sorley, and as you can see he fights with a powerful weapon. It is like a scythe, but if you watch, you will notice that he can control the length of the blade — shorten it for close battles, lengthen it for distance strikes. It’s an old weapon, a fierce one. Hard to control, but when used well and with mastery, difficult to beat.”
As they watched, she could see the boy’s skill. As Lukas charged forward, the weapon was there, waiting, knocking him down. If Lukas paced before him, assessing, looking for an opening, Sorley would suddenly, and without any warning signs, reach out with his weapon and start an attack, throwing Lukas back, creating offensive openings in an instant. The weapon made the battle challenging, though it would not save Sorley from Lukas. Libby had seen Lukas before, and he was not showing the vampire all of his skills or speed. Yet, if the vampire was doing the same thing, they were, as a team, horribly and frighteningly matched. They would be difficult, if not impossible to beat.
“But weapons … that’s not the most dangerous thing about vampires. Do you know the most dangerous thing about fighting one of us?”
“You’re always hungry?” she quipped.
“That is certainly true, in certain circumstances,” he answered solemnly. “A vampire desperate for blood is a dangerous thing, however a vampire is stronger filled with the stuff. For that reason it is unlikely that you will face that challenge here. All the vampires will be well-fed. What I meant was, well, just watch. See if you can find something more lethal than Sorley’s command of a weapon.”
From her perspective, it seemed the most dangerous thing here was how evenly the pair was matched. It was, at this point, more about endurance than skill. She felt Caleb grow quiet and sad beside her — moving closer to get a clearer sense of his emotions, she felt his intense sorrow, his frustration that these two men were symbols of all that was wrong in their worlds: too evenly matched to end the war, too powerful to ignore, too angry to let the other live in peace.
“This is never going to end, is it?” he asked. Even though he tried to pretend that he was only talking about the fight in the valley below them, she knew he was talking about all of this: the war, the feud, the hatred each of their kind held for the other.
But then, instantly, the vampire was gone. Libby closed her eyes, blinked, and he was gone. The vampire had vanished.
“Oh my God. That’s the first time I’ve seen that in real life,” she gasped.
As she spoke, the vampire flashed back again, this time behind Lukas, his weapon raised to strike the wolf in the back. Even without the metal blade, this weapon could kill or maim Lukas, aimed as it was at his back. She almost called out a warning to Lukas, but Lukas seemed to have expected this — as the vampire’s club came down, Lukas dashed beyond its reach. The vampire struck the ground so hard his weapon was buried in the earth. Using this to his advantage, Lukas bounded off a nearby tree and hurled himself at the vampire’s back. As he launched through the air, he shifted, a man again, and kicked the vampire in his rear. The vampire toppled.
From this distance, she couldn’t hear what they were saying, but they were clearly not happy with the other. Arguing now, instead of fighting.
“So … what do you know about that?” Caleb said, tossing his head toward the practice field below.
“Why do teachers always want to give out quizzes?” she asked, upset, still shocked by what the vampire had done. She had read about it, had known it was true, but hadn’t really believed it until now.
“We give quizzes because we want to see what you know. I certainly want to understand what your kind knows about mine,” he answered, again seriously and without irony. She also noted that she didn’t seem to sense that she was upset. This seemed routine for him now — whatever had upset him earlier had past. He was all business as usual again.
“Fine, teacher, fine.” She was exasperated, but it wasn’t his fault. Trying to get over what had just happened, she said in a monotone, as though she were reciting a lesson, “The most important thing about fighting a vampire is that they move too quickly for the eye to see.”
“Yes?” he said, encouraging her to continue.
“In one place one moment and in another the next. This is because they’ve sold their souls to the devil.”
“What?” he asked, his voice rising in surprise. “What are they teaching you in those schools of yours?”
“Ok, ok. So I added that bit about the devil because, honestly, I think your quizzes are ridiculous. Plus, we don’t know why or how you move the way you do. We don’t really even know what to call it.” She waited for him to say something, but when he remained silent, she prompted, “Well? Aren’t you going to tell me how you do it?”
“You didn’t tell me about your spells,” he threw back, accusingly.
“That’s because we don’t use them for battles, so you don’t legitimately need to know. I can’t tell you everything you want to know simply because you want it. There has to be a reason, one related to our progress in the trials. And right now, I’m the only wolf female in the event and none of the males know the magic, ok?”
“Yeah? And suppose I do have to go against you, in the last rounds?”
“Well, then, during the trial I’ll teach you the hard way. We’ll call it Experiential Learning.” She winked at him, teasing him, but again, he didn’t seem to get the joke.
He only said, “That seems reasonable.”
“But I definitely need to know now how this one moves because I will be facing him, so tell me about him.”
“This one, Sorley, he is fast, dangerous, and angry. Leave him to me.”
“‘Leave him to me,’” she said, mocking him. “Sure. Sure. That sounds like a great plan — except, what happens to me when you’re off fighting Lukas, and I’m staring down the pointy side of Sorley’s death stick? Caleb, stop avoiding this. Just tell me what I need to know.”
He paused, but finally, after a long belabored sigh that she was sure was just for show, he said, “It’s been called blinking in some circles because there is a need to close your eyes and, in a blink, visualize yourself where you need or want to be. But most teachers call it teleporting, although over time the tele part has become less and less true. We can’t move great distances now. Might as well call it transportation.” He grumbled the last, suddenly angry, disappointed, frustrated. “Some of the younger ones calling it batting. I’m not really sure why. I guess it’s because they’re blinking or batting their eyes, creating the visual image, but that’s really colloquial and only children or adolescents use it.”
“You don’t think they’re making jokes? You know, about being bats or something?”
“Why would they do that? We’re
not bats. Bats are, frankly, a little disgusting. Why would that be funny?”
“Right. You’re right. It makes no sense at all. So, that’s what it’s called, but how do you use it? How does it work?”
“Like I said, you have to imagine not being in the place you’re in, and then, well, you’re in the place you want to be.”
“How am I going to fight an enemy who can just picture himself on top of me? How will I possibly hide or escape or even counter attack with an ambush or something?”
“He can’t just picture you. He has to picture you and the place you are in. It’s actually pretty difficult. Besides, if he can’t see you, he’s out of luck.”
“Yeah, but what if he can see me? How can I parry or dodge, when he can just blink and be where I least expect him?” She knew she sounded panicked, but this blinking business was almost more myth than fact to her generation. She had no idea how to fight it.
“He won’t be able to. Calm down. It’s a difficult skill to use, and one that only the most talented vampires would try in a combat situation.”
“He used it just now,” she said, almost in a whine.
“That surprised me, honestly, but I think he was able to do that because he wasn’t in a combat situation. It’s easy to be settled enough to teleport on a practice field with an ally, but facing a true enemy, facing potential death? No way. If he’s angry, upset, or scared, he won’t be able to do it. It is, in essence, a kind of transcendence. If you aren’t calm enough, you close your eyes, picture the place you want to be and, then, go nowhere. If all else fails, taunt him about his family. He’ll be so upset then, he won’t be able to concentrate.”
“But how does it work? How will I know if he is about to use it? Is there a way to stop it before it happens, or to know when or where he’ll pop up?”
“Yes. There is a way to stop it and there are ways to predict it, but you don’t need to know either. He won’t be able to use it. Period. I promise.”
“I guess I’m just going to have to trust you on this one.”
“You shouldn’t trust me,” he said, almost annoyed, but then he went on, more calmly. “With this, though, I am telling you the truth. You’ll be fine in this round.”
“And in the next one, when I am set to meet you, what about that?”
He pinched his lips into a single straight line, but his eyes seemed happy, excited, almost teasing. “Well, then. You’re in trouble. I can do that in a battle situation.”
Chapter 5: TEAMWORK
“We’re quitting. Withdrawing. Now,” Caleb said angrily.
It had been one hour since the start of their battle with Lukas and Sorley, and all of Caleb’s predictions had been wrong. They had not gone after him, and she had not been strong enough to defend herself against them. Caleb had anticipated that the pairs would split at the start of the contest, to gain tactical advantage and the possibility of an ambush, all of which he said would be preferable to open and direct attack. However, as the beta lowered his arm to begin the challenge, Lukas and Sorley had charged, tearing through the center of the arena. Lukas shifted. Sorley extended his weapon. Both were aiming for Libby alone. Caleb acted quickly, but he reached her after Sorley’s blade struck home. Although Caleb did not usually use weapons, he had packed some today, and he began throwing thin metal needles at their pursuers and leaving metal spikes behind them to slow them down. Eventually, Caleb had wounded the young vampire, who stopped to remove several of the half-inch thick needles from his shoulder and arm. The spikes had succeeded in stopping Lukas, too, briefly, and he had transformed back to his human form to track them more carefully. But all this had come too late. Caleb had prevented a fatal attack, but Libby was still seriously injured. And now he wanted to forfeit. “Stop ignoring me, Libby. We’re withdrawing.”
“No!” she cried. “What are you talking about? This,” she hesitated, sucking air through her closed teeth, “is just a scratch.”
“A scratch? You really are insane, aren’t you? That vampire has fairly split you down the middle? And you want to continue? Don’t be ridiculous. They are both targeting you. Even forgetting your scratch,” he said, growling, “there’s no way you can beat them.”
Trying to fake a laugh, she made a sound more like a hiccup than a giggle. “I’m not going to beat them, we are.” Bending over because of the pain in her belly, she stopped talking.
“The hell we are.”
“Just stop. Just. Don’t talk to me for a second. This pain is killing me. Let me be, Caleb.”
“No. If you’re in pain, maybe you’ll listen to reason! This is madness. You’ll die here. They both want you bleeding. Can’t you feel it? How desperately they want you dead?”
“Caleb, please. Please,” she said weakly, again leaning into her side, pressing her weight into a nearby tree. She could feel the tension and stress rolling off of him in waves, but he remained silent. Even with her pain, his feelings were powerful enough to reach through her agony, and still he said nothing. She was grateful for that because she was going to fix her place in the pack. Packs weren’t formed by aggression: you didn’t fight your way to the stop. You ruled because you were trusted to rule, to lead those who walked behind you. If they couldn’t see the future of the pack within you, you were not their leader. She was not the pack heir, not yet, not until they trusted her with their futures. She wanted her place with them, she would fight for it, she would die for it. Nothing Caleb said or felt would change that. She would make this work. She had to.
• • •
Libby’s determination to win at all costs would ruin everything. Caleb fumed. Of course — the vampire wouldn’t dare attack his prince. The hierarchy of their culture did not permit an attack on the king, in any circumstance. Caleb should have expected it. Essentially, an attempt to strike the king in any way, in any situation, was an act of treason. As their prince, to Sorley, he apparently bore the same mantle, and Caleb knew now that he would not be injured, at least not by his own kind. The vampire would take precautions specifically not to harm him. Which meant all of the vampire’s attention was set on Libby.
Unbelievably, the wolf was no better. Rather than relishing an opportunity to put to rout the prince, Lukas focused solely on the pack heir. Caleb had thought the bragging rights of defeating the vampire leader would turn the wolf on him, and he had felt the wolf’s interest and ambition at the start of the trials, knew the wolf wanted to win against him. But he was targeting Libby? Why? Was his ambition really set on destroying her? Was he trying to be next in line?
Caleb was ruled by logic. But logic did not rule war.
And now Libby was injured, maybe dying. And she wouldn’t give up. Logically, she should. But she wouldn’t. He didn’t understand emotions, he never had, and now, because he couldn’t get her to understand logic, everything was falling to pieces.
It was more than the risk to his plan. What it was he could not say, but he knew, as deeply as he knew anything, that he could not see her dead. Not here. Not like this. He would not think the words, “not ever.” But they were there all the same.
Calmly, she said, “I’m not leaving.”
“Look around, Libby. This is a dead end. It’s over.”
“No!” Her eyes shined with unshed tears. “I can do this.”
“Wake up! Open your eyes! This is the real world. You can’t work miracles here!”
“Just like my father,” she hissed. “You don’t see anything I see.” Angrily, she stared at him, until finally, closing her eyes, she pressed her palms against her stomach. Her hands were covered in her blood. She whispered words he could not hear.
“Please, I’m begging you. I’m begging you. Hear me. Let’s quit this,” he pleaded.
Her eyes popped open and she smiled. Lifting her shirt up a little so that he could see her now uninjured midriff, she grinned and s
aid glibly, “See? All better now.”
“What? How?”
“Magic,” she said, twitching her eyebrows up and down, up and down, as though she had delivered a joke.
“So you’re healed?” he asked, confused, lost, relieved.
“Better than healed because now we have a chance to surprise them, right? We’re better than before.”
“Yes. Better than before,” he answered, bewildered but hopeful.
“Now, let’s talk about our plan. You’re good with plans, right? Right?” she asked again, when he did not answer.
“Right,” he said, still unsure of what had happened.
“Then let’s plan.”
“Right,” he repeated. Bending their heads together, whispering, they became a team, not vampire and wolf, but friends. They would help the other, save the other, and they would win.
• • •
Libby had conjectured that, if Sorley couldn’t or wouldn’t attack Caleb, or even lift his weapon in defense, Caleb only needed to continuously attack him in a direction that pushed him away from her. All the boy would be able to do was retreat. Get him to retreat far enough, and he would be no danger to her — unable to see her, he wouldn’t even be able to teleport to get at her. That would leave her with only one opponent. As usual, her plan was working.
As Caleb ran away from Libby, he grew more and more nervous. He couldn’t see her. And if he couldn’t see her, how could he help her? His body seethed with anger. He wanted to devour this little vampire. He had tried repeatedly to engage the boy, but always Sorley refused to strike him, his eyes returning to Libby’s direction. Over and over again, she was the only target he saw. Libby had one enemy now, but God, what an enemy.
If only Caleb could get his hands on Sorley, the boy would be easily defeated and Caleb could go to her. But Sorley was fast, too, and Caleb, unable to give free reign to his powers couldn’t catch him, because he feared losing control. The boy was always right in front of him, almost close enough to touch. Each drive forward, Caleb repeated the same thought over and over: Libby. Libby, hold on. Libby. The only thought that kept him from going mad with worry was that she had the power to heal herself. That would keep her safe until he could return to her.