The Vampire Gift 3: Throne of Dust

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by E. M. Knight


  “The type that cannot be stopped by any force known to man or God.”

  She gestures around her. “These six are just the start. When the process is perfected, I can create legions of them. Hundreds, then thousands, then millions of bloodthirsty vampires who will answer only to me… and whose thirst can never be quenched.

  “So think long and hard before you refuse the offer you’ve been given. With your help,” she looks at Eleira, “we might cloak the world in eternal night. It will be just like your Haven. Some humans will be lost, of course—those who resist—but many will be spared. They will learn to live in harmony beneath us.

  “But if you refuse? Well, even if you refuse, the earth will be overcome by vampiric rule. Yet it will be a world ruled by fear. We may not get eternal darkness, but, trust me, the vampire will rise. My hybrids will strike fear into the hearts of all those who dare stand in the way.”

  “You’re mad,” I say.

  Beatrice laughs. “Am I? I promise you this, return with Eleira, and bring us the torrial used by your Queen to create the wards. In exchange, I will destroy these vampires. The knowledge of their creation is bound up here—” she taps the side of her head, “—and I vow that such monstrosities will never be made again. The world will not devolve into chaos. It will instead welcome a new and everlasting age of prosperity. The choice?” She spreads her hands, “Is entirely up to you.”

  Chapter Fifty-Four

  VICTORIA

  SOMEWHERE IN THE VICINITY OF THE HAVEN

  I force my way through the blistering sun. Part of me satiates in the pain that every step brings. Every moment spent in the golden rays is agony. My skin burns. In my weakened state—after having been coerced by Smithson into sharing my blood with the Haven’s Elite—the sun seems so powerful. The effects it exerts on me are significantly more than they were before.

  But I live for this pain. It is my form of defiance against the foul creatures that made me. Even if none know my suffering but I, forcing myself to be out here, to withstand the awful rays, to purposefully put myself in a position that other vampires would do anything to avoid… it makes me feel superior.

  What’s more, it makes me feel in control.

  And it’s been one hell of a time since I’ve actually had control.

  I thought that when I’d shared Smithson’s bed, in the aftermath of the great battle, it would help me rise.

  But I had misjudged the man. When he demanded that I let the others of the Elite drink my blood… when he insisted that it was the only way I could prove I was loyal… I had no choice. I had to comply.

  The bastard trapped me. He knew what he was doing the whole time, knew the position I was in. He’d exploited my weakness when it was most obvious. And then I found out he intended my blood to be given not just to the Elite but to all of The Haven…

  That was when I made the decision to escape. I had to find a safe house, a sort of shelter where I could gather my thoughts and decide on what to do next. It had to be somewhere I could remain indefinitely, with absolutely no concern for my safety.

  The only reason I’d offered Smithson the chance to come with me was to strike at him when his back was turned. It was rash and impulsive—but I’d been burning with hatred for the man. The plan was to get him out of reach of The Haven’s Royal Court, and then, quite literally, put a silver dagger through his back.

  But he refused my offer, and so I here I am, wandering alone through the outskirts of The Haven, near the former boundaries of the coven, biding for time.

  A fire burned in the forest late last night. The conflagration was huge and all-destructive. I watched it from a safe distance, hidden in a makeshift nest in the treetops.

  I waited to see if others would come to investigate. Of course, that had been my expectation. After the attack and subsequent breakdown of The Haven, anything of the unusual sort should have been cause for alarm.

  But as I watched and waited… I neither felt nor saw any vampires approaching. That alone was interesting. But what intrigued even more was that the fire did not spread. It should have engulfed the whole forest. Yet it had not.

  That meant it was a controlled flame.

  That piqued my curiosity. Who was responsible? Why?

  Maybe it was not the most intelligent decision I’d ever made, but when the sun rose, I decided I would sacrifice my hiding spot and go investigate.

  That’s where I am now, less than a hundred yards away, picking my path carefully through the trees. I avoid the shafts of sunlight that dot the ground. In my current state, just the ambience of light is enough to grant the pain I so crave.

  The smell of burnt wood is heavy in the air. It is mingled with another scent, one that I find utterly repulsive:

  That of burned flesh.

  I stop in a shaded alcove between two great evergreens. A trickle of fear crawls down my spine. Why do I smell flesh?

  I look around the woods. There’s nobody here that I can sense. The wild creatures that inhabit this place are nowhere to be found.

  Looks like they are the intelligent ones. I am the fool walking straight into danger.

  I do a thorough scan of the treetops. They are empty. There is always the chance that this is a trap. For whom, I wouldn’t pretend to know, but it would be utterly ridiculous for me to stumble into it blindly.

  I see nothing up there that is particularly alarming. Only that awful, lingering scent gives the impression that something is wrong.

  I remind myself that I won’t bump into any vampires out during the day and force my legs to take me past the last row of trees and into the clearing that housed a bonfire.

  When I cross the threshold, an involuntary gasp escapes my lips.

  There are sixteen bodies on the ground, arranged in a perfect circle. They are all human—or rather, they recently were human.

  Now they are in the midst of being transformed into vampires.

  That explains why I couldn’t sense them earlier. They are all stuck in that rare position where they are not fully human, but neither are they true vampires.

  But who would do this?

  I look around. Charred bits of clothing cover some of the bodies. The remains of the fire make a great black pit in the earth.

  I approach the circle cautiously. None are yet conscious. The sun falls on some of them—and the ones who are further along in their transformation show the ill effects. Where the rays hit their skin is red, raw, and peeling. Nasty blisters ooze corruption from those spots.

  I snort. These fledglings are weak. The sun has never done that to me.

  But then I notice an odd dark mark on each of their bodies.

  I kneel beside the man closest to me. I reach out and touch his skin.

  Immediately, I pull my hand back. He’s scorching! Vampires are never hot. Our body temperatures drop permanently when the Dark Gift sets in.

  Yet this man is feverish.

  I move to the next one. He is the same. Although he is protected by the shade of the trees, there are still blotches of corruption showing on his skin. They are faint compared to the ones on those exposed to the sun… but they are still there.

  Never in all my years have I heard of vampires reacting to sunlight like this. The light burns and hurts and yes, even kills, but these deformities look like they are caused by some festering disease.

  And vampires cannot get sick.

  I shudder suddenly. Only one explanation comes to mind, and I cannot bear to think of the implications.

  These poor souls have been touched by dark magic.

  I examine that little mark on the shoulder again. It’s almost like the spot a human victim would have after being bitten by one of my kind. Yet it is also wholly different. It goes deeper into the skin. Instead of being red, it is a gruesome black.

  Could the demon have done this?

  I rise as fast as I can. The Narwhark is the only explanation for the mark that I can come up with. Does that mean that whoever initiated the
conversion of these humans into vampires collaborated with the beast?

  It’s a hideous thought. Unfathomable. And yet…

  I cannot stay for long. Vampires might avoid the sun, but no such restriction holds the Narwhark in place.

  I look around the circle. I want answers to what happened here.

  The only way to get them is from one who was directly involved.

  So I pick up the only woman in the group, sling her over my shoulders, and make my way from this place as fast as I can.

  I fully intend to be completely hidden, and entirely out of reach, when the missing woman is discovered.

  By that time, I suspect… I’ll know all there is to about what transpired.

  And if the woman proves uncooperative? Well, what better way to quench my thirst than by draining a newly-made vampire completely dry?

  Chapter Fifty-Five

  ELEIRA

  INSIDE THE CRYPTS

  Raul stands next to me, silent as a statue, while Riyu conjures up the portal that will take us into the Paths.

  The horrendous, pitiful creatures Beatrice showed us—they are playing on his mind. He cares more about the plight of others than he cares to admit. Perhaps more than a vampire in his position, with his strength, should.

  But that very humanity is what draws me to him. It is what I glimpsed the first time we interacted. I knew right away, deep down, that Raul was unlike the rest.

  For a time he had lost that part of himself. I knew what he was doing when he’d tried pushing me away. I pretended ignorance only because I thought it would help him realize the flaw of his approach.

  The portal materializes. Dagan puts a hand on Raul’s and my shoulders. The three of us go through.

  Riyu appears behind us a second after we land. The portal winks out. I feel the vibrant magical energy all around me.

  I look back at the smallest vampire and catch him staring at Dagan’s back. When he sees me looking, he scowls and quickly takes the lead.

  “This way,” he says, casting me another suspicious glare. “We need to move fast.”

  We follow him through the secret paths in silence.

  I wonder what Riyu uses to navigate. It cannot just be familiarity with the Paths. Everything looks too much alike. Without a guide, I bet someone could get lost wandering for ages down here.

  But after a few minutes of walking, a hypothesis forms in my mind. The flow of magic in the air is constantly shifting. Yet there’s a certain underlying pattern to them. They’re not quite as chaotic as they are in the outside world.

  In fact, the more I concentrate on it, the more I think I am right. The first time I was brought here I was too taken in by the sheer majesty of the place to pay any mind to such details. But now, if I concentrate, I think I can pick up the trail that Riyu is following.

  I want to ask him about it. But Raul and I agreed that it would be best not to speak in the presence of our escorts. Whatever we said would be passed on to Logan or Beatrice. We do not want to give our position away.

  Riyu stops suddenly. His head snaps to the left. A flicker of doubt forms on his face, but it is immediately vanquished.

  “What is it?” I ask, but then I feel it, too.

  Over in the distance, far away, there is a… suction. Like a black hole, pulling all the magic in.

  What’s more, out from it comes a resonance… a sort of reverberation that I feel in my very bones. The magical currents aren’t just being sucked in, no—they are being spit out dark and corrupted.

  The impression of that lasts barely a second. As fast as I’d felt it, it’s gone.

  Dagan growls a warning. “You better not be thinking of anything stupid.”

  I glance at Riyu. A look passes between us. It tells me all I need to know:

  He’s just as uncomfortable as I am at what we felt.

  “We’re almost there,” Riyu says. He hurries down the cavernous passage. “A few miles this way, and we can cross.”

  All four of us use our vampire speed to arrive at our destination quickly.

  “Here,” Riyu stops. “I’ll cast the portal.”

  Without waiting for Dagan’s permission he begins the incantation that collects the magical energies required.

  Quickly, it opens up. The portal looks just slightly weaker than before. I don’t know if it’s because Riyu was in a rush, or because of the strange effect we both felt earlier.

  “This goes to the border of The Haven,” Riyu says.

  “Why aren’t you bringing us inside?” Raul demands.

  “For our own safety,” Dagan answers. “Last time we came upon you unprepared… and got a nasty reaction. We don’t want to be the spark that starts the wildfire.” He grins. “At least, not yet.”

  “Go now!” Riyu prompts. “I’m not going to hold it open much longer.”

  Raul looks at me. He takes my hand.

  We both jump through.

  For a disorienting moment I cannot tell up from down. My vision blends into a multitude of harsh, swirling reds and blacks. In my mind’s eye I see the vision of an apocalyptic future, with humans enslaved around the world, Beatrice’s twisted sun vampires running wild, and uncontrolled, society crumbling into ruins…

  And then it stops, and I’m jerked back to myself. My feet hit the ground. I open my eyes. Immediately I recognize The Haven’s familiar forest.

  Raul lands beside me. The moment he does, I feel a short zap.

  The portal disappears.

  “Well,” Raul begins. “Looks like we made it. It—”

  Out of nowhere, the Narwhark leaps at us.

  Neither Raul nor I have time to react. The demon collides into his chest. Raul falls with the weight of the beast on top of him.

  My claws are out and my fangs are bared in an instant. But before I can move to help, the creature’s head snaps back.

  “No!”

  The thought is not my own. It hits me with such force that I stumble back. The demon has Raul pinned to the ground, but it’s not attacking him—simply keeping him there.

  The Narwhark’s eyes bore into mine. This time, I have no doubt. The creature is sentient. It has developed consciousness. I make to move forward, but that thought crashes into me again:

  “No. Stay!”

  Is it the Narwhark speaking to me? But no, it can’t. How can it? And yet…

  I realize with a start that once more time has slowed. That is why Raul is still on the ground. His arms are just starting to move up, to try and get the demon off of him, but they’re moving so slowly, it’s like a lagging movie.

  The Narwhark looks at me. Just like in the audience chamber before the Royal Court, we are both locked into a trance-like state. The whole of the atmosphere seems to shimmer around us. Something about this creature disrupts the flow of time…

  Of course! Now it hits me. That’s why it appears so fast to those on the outside.

  It blinks. Its eyes, usually opaque, become shiny and reflective. I see myself mirrored in the black.

  I can’t look away. Something tugs at me to come closer. It’s almost—almost—like the vampiric influence. But this one comes from the Narwhark—at least, so I think.

  I take a step forward. The Narwhark watches me, swinging its tail back and forth like a pendulum. Its paws are right on Raul’s chest. One of them presses down over his heart. I feel the threat acutely. If the demon even tries to hurt him…

  Well, it’ll find out what it means to spark the anger of a witch.

  And yet, I feel no menace from it. It watches me as I approach. I wonder for a second what Raul is thinking. But from his perspective, no more than half a second has passed.

  Perhaps less.

  That pull continues beckoning me, until I’m right at Raul’s feet. The demon still hasn’t moved. Only its swishing tail gives any proof that it is not a statue.

  “Stop.”

  Again the thought comes that is not my own. It’s also, I realize, not a spoken word, but a collection
of feelings, a jumble of emotions, all combining to give it meaning. It is a language without words. A type of instinctual understanding that penetrates the emptiness between the conscious and subconscious mind.

  “Kneel down.”

  The command is amplified by an increase of the pull. I could resist, but with Raul in such a precarious position…

  Slowly I bend my knees. The creature continues watching me. Swish, swish, swish, swish goes its tail.

  I see myself clearly in its black, midnight eyes. It is like staring into a pool of inky oil. This close to the Narwhark, I would expect to feel a sort of revulsion, maybe a dissonance…

  But there is nothing. The evil of this beast is either hidden, subdued, or locked away from me.

  Is that because I summoned it?

  When my knees touch the ground, the Narwhark finally moves. It lifts its front leg up off Raul’s body. It bends the twisted joint that functions as its knee… and bows to me.

  I swallow hard.

  Next, it drops its head and takes a step closer.

  I reach out. Before I know what’s happening, my hand is hovering half an inch away from the demon’s head.

  Without warning, through a sudden suction, a magnification of that pull, and my hand clamps down on its crown.

  Immediately, a flood of images pour through my mind. A world of pure black. Existence in a void where you are the only living thing. A light breaking through and ripping you out. Pain, pain, pain, enormous, hideous pain as you’re torn from the reality in which you belong and flung into this foreign one. And then a mixture of feelings: confusion, anger, fury—and above all, hunger—when you find yourself in a body many times weaker than your own.

  I gasp and pull away. My heart is racing. What I saw—what I saw…

 

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