by E. M. Knight
The stronghold.
I notice a bunch of vampires suddenly rush out from the impromptu celebration. A ripple of something rotten shifts through the air.
I bolt from my seat. Felix is in front of me in an instant, holding me back with one arm.
“You can’t be seen reacting to every small thing,” he tells me in a soft whisper.
“This isn’t small,” I assure him, then step past his outstretched arm.
But already the guards are hauling two vampires in.
My heart dips when I see it’s Phillip and Raul.
Both their outfits are torn to shreds. Phillip is half-naked, most of his upper body exposed. Blood stains their clothes but the wounds have since-healed.
Except for one. There’s a pair of dots on Phillip’s shoulder that look suspiciously like a vampire bite.
I stand tall over the rest. “What is this?” I demand. My voice silences the celebrating crowd. “Raul, tell me what happened.”
He meets my eyes. For a moment his are completely unreadable.
Then his anger flares.
“Phillip assaulted me,” he states. “He came upon me and started a fight.”
I look at his younger brother. “Is this true? Remember, you are bound by your oath.”
“How could I forget?” he grouses. Then he, too, looks up and meets my gaze.
I suppress an inadvertent gasp. The miasma flooding his eyes is now so bad it’s almost impossible to see the whites.
“Yes, it’s true,” he says, loud and proud, and there for all the gathered vampires to hear. “He insulted our Mother’s—your former Queen’s –memory, and I would not simply stand back and take it.”
“Phillip fed on the humans,” Raul says. “All of them.”
This time the gasps come from all the vampires. The words are like a blow to the gut.
The villagers are dead?
Phillip grins, triumphant. “They were there for the taking, were they not? It is no fault of mine nobody else pounced.”
“The royal decree…” somebody from the crowd begins.
“—Died with our former Queen,” Phillip gloats. “Nothing at all prevented me from taking their blood. And I did not say I killed them all. One or two may still be hanging onto their miserable lives.”
“Felix,” I whisper. “Send the vampire doctor to where the humans were kept. Do it immediately. See if any are still alive. Have Geordam go with him.”
Felix nods and slips off into the crowd.
“You snaked around the spirit of the law,” I tell Phillip. “For that, you must be punished.”
“Oh, please,” he snorts. “As if any of these vampires have anything on me.” He pushes free of the guards holding him. “I could destroy you all,” he says ominously. “Eleira, you know I have the power.”
His hands jut out, and a stream of pure white flame soars into the ceiling.
I react quickly, casting a shield of Air above our group. The heavy rocks hit the barrier and bounce aside, somewhere they can’t hurt anyone.
My anger boils over. “No,” I say. “You will not do that again.”
And then, calling upon the additional powers imbued in me by the Forsaken Sisters, I weave an extraordinary net of Water and Air and Earth and cast it in orbit around Phillip.
He won’t be able to feel it, but his rotten magic will evaporate as soon as it comes in contact with the shield.
His eyes widen. “You cut me off,” he gasps. “Damn you, what did you do?”
Surprise washes through me, but I don’t show it. I hadn’t intended the shield to block his access to magic.
I did not even know that was something it could do!
“Then all of us are safer for it,” I tell the assembly. “Phillip, you’ve shown your true colors. For that, I judge you to—”
“Wait,” Raul interrupts. “Wait, Eleira, you don’t know all of it.”
I turn to him. “What do you mean?” I ask softly.
“He’s being corrupted,” Raul says. “Just like I was, when I was stabbed by the blade. But somehow, I think, even worse.”
“How do you know?”
Raul looks almost ashamed to admit. “I had his blood,” he explains. “I tasted the taint.”
The entire audience watching the exchange, from the Incolam to Elite, is hanging on every word as if it’s the most important conversation they’ve ever heard.
Felix returns to my side. “A matter best settled out of view of the public eye,” he suggests.
I nod in agreement. “I will confer with my council,” I say. “All members of the Royal Court are invited to attend.” Phillip scowls but does not say anything. “This is important, Raul, I understand. But it will have to wait until tomorrow night. Because now, finally...” I look up at the ceiling, toward the half-moon that I know is shining outside, “It is time to resurrect the wards around The Haven.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Riyu
In the secret tunnels of The Crypts
“Here,” I say, designating a spot in front of me. “I’ll cast the portal here.”
Dagan grunts in reply. “Fine.”
I look at him. Something about his demeanor has been off ever since he returned from seeing the King.
It feels like I’m about to step into a great trap.
“Well?” he barks. “Hurry up and do it!” He glances the way we came. “The sooner we’re out of here, the better it will be.”
I nod and reach out for the Elemental Forces required to cast the portal into The Paths. The weaves themselves are second nature by now.
But the Forces are not as calm as I’m used to. Obviously not, not since I discovered them raging. They fight and resist my attempts to take hold of them. I concentrate harder. The weaves that are supposed to be matter of course to me are proving as difficult as the hardest spell.
“Well?” Dagan growls. “Are you doing it, or not?”
“There’s… resistance,” I say through gritted teeth. “It’s not as easy as it’s supposed to be!”
“Nothing is supposed to be easy,” Dagan says. “Just hurry up. The sooner we’re through, the better it is for us.”
I try again, taking a slightly different approach. Instead of forcing the Elements into the shapes I need I coax them to it.
This type of spell casting is always slower and more cumbersome, and thus rarely used.
But this time it proves to be enough. The Elements slide into place, the weaves form, and the portal opens.
“There!” I say. “Quick, jump through.”
“You first,” Dagan says.
I look at him as if he’s mad. “Are you kidding? You know that I have to be the last one through, otherwise the portal might collapse at any point!”
“Maybe that’s why I’m telling you to go,” Dagan growls. He sounds angry, conflicted, pissed off all at the same time. “Maybe I’m doing you a favor by giving you a chance to get away.”
“Get away? Get away from what?”
He seizes me by the shoulders, face contorted into a furious expression. “From me,” he snarls. “When I went to see the King, you know what he said? He told me to kill you.”
Shock rifles through me.
“I can’t damn well kill you if you fled somewhere I cannot follow,” he rages on. “So unless you wait to test my resolve and wait for me to change my mind, I suggest you go. Now.”
He releases me. I stagger back, reeling.
The King told Dagan to kill me? And he’s giving me a chance to escape?
“Go!” Dagan roars. “Go, before someone catches us. Go before I realize what a bad mistake I’m making. GO!”
Shocked, confused, and disoriented, I stumble into the portal and let it take me away.
The last thing I see is Dagan’s back, already turned away.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Dagan
The Crypts
The portal winks out of existence, and Riyu is gone.
Th
e moment that happens I fall to my knees, succumbing to the pain that I’ve kept veiled for so long.
The unhealed scars on my back are horrible. I don’t know how long Riyu’s spell will last.
And that uncertainty is the reason I defied the King and let the spell caster get away.
I did not know if I could follow through on Logan’s order. Not with so much of my future up in the air. Magic is a curse, and if I eliminated Riyu like the King wanted, I would be surrendering The Crypts to a greater evil.
I thought my loyalty was all to the King. But in truth, I’m realizing now that it’s more to the vampires of our coven. If Logan has tainted his mind with magic, it is only a matter of time until he is no longer sane enough to lead.
Logan was right on one thing. A powerful coven can only have one individual who can wield magic. At least with Riyu, he’s done it long enough that I know him to be relatively sound of mind.
If I had killed him like the King wanted, I would be surrendering our coven’s future to the hands of a potential madman.
At least, this way I can claim Riyu got away. Yes, the King will take that as a failure…
But that is only if I go back and report to him.
I have half a mind to simply run like Beatrice did.
But that would label me a traitor. And after everything I’ve seen and experienced, perhaps the most important thing to me is loyalty.
Even if I can no longer be loyal to a King whose mind has been poisoned, I can be loyal to the ideals encompassed here before.
More importantly—the only way for me to heal now is to seek out The Ancient’s blood.
It’s the only chance I have of survival.
So I push up, having granted a brief outlet for the pain, and turn back into the heart of The Crypts to find him.
I reach the entrance to the common walkway. I steel myself before exiting.
I cannot let any vampires out there see my weakness.
After a moment’s pause, I emerge. Sure enough, the wide-berthed areas are teeming with vampires.
Out of the many thousands we house, this is but a small fraction.
My strength and my position as military leader allow me to go by most of them un-accosted. So long as I don’t give evidence of my affliction, they will not bother me.
One of the benefits of being in command.
Still, I cannot help but notice the few extra glances that are directed my way.
I ignore them. It is in every vampire’s nature to sense weakness. Even if I project an aura of strength, even if I am at the top of the power hierarchy amongst all of them, they must still get an inkling of my… condition.
All the more motivation for me to find The Ancient as quickly as I can.
I head for the area of The Crypts reserved for the top-ranking vampires. My own personal apartments are up here.
As I hurry on my way I get more and more of the paranoid feeling that I’m being watched. Of course, when I glance back nobody is there.
I tell myself it’s just my mind playing tricks on me due to my uncharacteristic weakness.
The sooner I get it solved, the better off everything will be. Once it’s off my mind, I’ll finally be able to think properly about what the hell possessed me to make that choice with Riyu.
The silver lining here is that the monstrous injury gives me a good enough excuse for the failure with Riyu. The King might not see it that way, not if he’s in one of his storms of passion… but it’s the only chance I’ve got of getting back on good terms with him.
Not that I necessarily need to be on good terms with him. After what he showed me he’s capable of…
Well, it’s no exaggeration to say that a coup might be the best option on the table.
I stop. Am I really, truly, considering overthrowing the King?
It’s stupid. It’s ludicrous!
Yet how else can I reconcile my absolute hatred for magic with what Logan is now doing?
Power, I tell myself. This is all about power.
Do I have the influence necessary to corral enough of the vampires together and overthrow the King?
I snort in derision. This is by far the most idiotic idea I’ve had yet. Logan’s fist is entirely closed on the staff of control. He commands everything there is to command with our vampires.
He has their utmost loyalty, because of how dependent they are on him.
But what if they could be made to see his growing madness?
Maybe it hasn’t manifested itself yet, but sooner or later, it will. Because madness is tied to magic completely.
I reach the halls leading to the strongest vampires’ dwellings. Only a few times have I spotted The Ancient in there on his own. Yet even a few is better than none.
The moment I walk into the hall I get an awful premonition that something is badly wrong.
My eyes fly over the doors. All of them are sealed, except for one.
Mine.
I rush to it. I flare my vampiric senses to take in all the others nearby.
Some of the rooms are occupied, most are empty, but mine… mine has the hint of a presence inside.
I press myself up against the wall just beside the door, ignoring the pain that shoots through me. I tense. The presence I feel on the other side is faint, almost undetectable, but it’s definitely there.
I’ve never felt anything like it before.
My claws come out. A part of me wishes I had a real weapon. But I know how to use my body, even in the most damning of situations. I know how to fight.
On a count of three, I spring through the doors…
And, to my surprise, find my apartments completely empty.
But someone has been here. All my belongings have been flung to the floor, all of the wardrobes ransacked. The few books I keep have been torn to shreds.
My eyes go immediately to the chest. Somehow, for some reason, it is the only item that remained untouched.
The door creaks closed behind me. I spin around.
A cloaked woman stands and regards me.
I give a choked cry. I see her, but I cannot feel her. No more than that barest hint of a presence.
That’s not what shocks me. The cut of her robe is. The hood, which shields her entire face, is veiled in a darkness my eyes cannot pierce.
Immediately, my mind goes back to the last days I was human, to when the witch massacred my entire village and left me to die at the side of my home.
This woman is wearing exactly the same outfit. What’s more, my vampiric vision is equally helpless to pierce the black as my human vision was, so many years ago.
“Who are you?” I manage to choke out.
The woman raises a hand, fingers fanned out, and directs it at me.
A seven-pointed star is carved into her palm.
The symbol starts to glow. All of a sudden, I’m surrounded by a power I cannot resist. It’s like the pressure in the room has increased exponentially. All the air is being thrust into me.
The woman moves her other hand in a little, dismissive sweeping gesture. Something slams into my side and knocks me to the floor.
“Hello, Dagan,” the witch says.
Instantly, I recognize the voice.
It is Cierra, the sorceress who destroyed my village so long ago.
She laughs. “What, did you not think I would find you? How naïve you really are...”
She moves her second hand again, and this time something sweeps me up from the ground and sends me flying into the ceiling. I crash against it, then fall down.
That original force still makes it impossible for me to move.
“Do you think I haven’t been keeping tabs on you after you were made into one of these despicable creatures?” she asks. “Do you think I simply let you live so that your maker could come around and give you eternal life?”
The two forces converge and tug me up, forcing me to stand. I strain against them, but I am utterly powerless, even as a vampire. I do not have the strength to opp
ose her!
She tilts her hooded head to one side. I cannot see her face.
“Do you have anything to say?” she asks. “Go on, then. Speak!”
The tightness around my jaw disappears.
“You filth,” I say. “When I get myself free of—”
Something lashes me across the face. My head whips that way.
“Tut tut,” she says slowly. “That’s not proper behavior for one in your position now, is it?”
The force buckles down, and I am unable to speak again.
She walks closer. Even though I cannot feel her, my enhanced senses react to the danger that radiates from her body.
She is powerful. She is a threat.
Maybe, she is the strongest one I’ve faced yet.
“You vampires are so simple,” she continues on. “You are all so weak. You are all the same. Lazy. Entitled. Parasitic.”
She walks behind me. A slash of energy rips down my back. I scream, but the sound is muted since I cannot open my mouth.
“What’s this?” she wonders, a tone of real curiosity in her voice. “What happened to your back to harm you so?”
She reaches out and touches the ruined skin with her fingers. I recoil against the unexpected cold.
“You’re not as strong as you pretend to be,” she mutters. “What could have done this to you?”
The force enveloping my body jerks me around to face her. “Answer me.”
I scowl in pure hatred. “Never,” I say, through gritted teeth, through the little bit of allowance she’s granted me.
“So stubborn,” she sighs. “What will it take for you to understand that you have no choice?”
With a wave of her hand she flings me away. I crash into the wall but don’t fall to the floor. The force presses into me, exerting enormous pressure, pinning me in place.
“I could crush you,” she says. “What, you think this is difficult?”
The force magnifies. My head feels like it’s going to split. My chest cannot move enough for me to take a breath. Pain, enormous pain, takes over. The pressure is worse than anything I’ve faced, most of all because I am helpless to stop it.
I cannot fight against it.
I cannot do anything to resist.