The redbill with Kane and Roxy took off for the Hive. Dorian grabbed my hand, pulling me from my thoughts. His gaze swept over me carefully, searching for injuries. That was sweet of him. I looked him over, too, relieved to find only minor cuts and a slight burn on his thigh where a gauntlet blast had brushed by him.
“I’m fine,” I assured him. “Let’s keep moving before we both crash from exhaustion.”
On Drigar, we started our sweep of the tunnels, the redbill flying fast, even after our trying clash with the hunters. The sulfuric smell of the water burned in my nostrils. Dorian followed the walls diligently, looking for any sign of danger.
As we sat next to one another, scanning the gloomy space, Dorian’s eyes dropped to my pocket. I was soaking wet, so my pockets were completely flat against my skin. His eyebrows raised in question.
“What?” I asked.
“I don’t sense Gate Maker anymore.” He ground his teeth together. “I should’ve known he would try to leave.”
“I’m sorry, I—” My racing mind reviewed everything that had happened, looking for anything I could have done to prevent this. “When I fell into the water, he took off after saving me. I had to pick between chasing him and going back to the fight, so I let him go.”
Dorian exhaled, long and slow. A small bit of anxiety squeezed in my chest. Gate Maker’s exit felt like just another failure in my growing collection of them.
“There was nothing you could have done in that situation,” he admitted finally. “It’s not your fault he left. We’ll have to trust that he sticks to his word and our pact.” His eyes skirted past the entrance of the cave. There were no traces left of the hunters. “There’s something else I want to talk to you about.”
Nothing good ever came after those words. “Yes?”
“I didn’t expect Kane to be hurt like that,” Dorian admitted in a softer voice. “I gave him everything I could, but I’m weakened because I didn’t manage to feed off any of the hunters that went down today. I can’t give you blood tonight.”
Sour frustration pooled in my core, but I was a trained soldier. It was my job to adjust to anything. It was true that without the blood I was weaker, slower, and we both became vulnerable to the curse. And yes, I’d just gotten to the point where I felt comfortable fighting in this place, and we would certainly be in danger again tomorrow. But I knew that Dorian was being practical. Unless… this choice was driven by something else. Was he starting to distrust me?
Was he right to do so?
I tried to silence the paranoia that crept through my body. I clenched my hands, willing myself to control my emotions.
“Dorian.” I spoke in a low, calm voice, crushing down the anger that clawed at my chest. “Do you think the blood is starting to change me? Be honest.”
It was the question that had wrapped itself around my neck in recent nights, like a serpent of doubt, choking the life out of me. I was tired of wondering if I had imagined the uncertain glances. The respect in his glacial eyes was starting to dwindle into guarded emotions that I no longer fully understood.
Maybe I needed his answer because it would allow me to accept what I already knew, that I was becoming different. My anger had passed limits I never knew existed. When I fought, it was for savagery instead of strategy. I’d started second-guessing people’s motives and actions, paranoia running circles with no logical end.
Dorian shifted. “I’m starting to see… something.”
I took a shuddering breath that almost felt like relief. If someone else had seen it, then it was real. If it was real, I could fix it.
“It’s not in your aura. You aren’t growing visibly darker, but… something about you is becoming different, and not for the better.” He glanced down at the lake, his attention briefly drawn by the floating corpse of a jaspeth. “I don’t understand what is happening with you, and I’m worried the blood is affecting you in a way I can’t sense. While a lot of people aren’t fully acting like themselves, the most important question is if the changes to your personality are directly caused by the blood swapping, or if it’s because of our high-stress situation. Our return to the Immortal Plane happened around the same time we started exchanging blood.”
My pulse stuttered, cold fear undercutting the anger as I realized where this conversation was going. He’s trying to cut me off. The next step would be a quiet, logical suggestion that we stop for a few days, see if the effects wore off. That was the easiest way to test it. And he was right… but if I didn’t have the blood, then my edge in battle was gone. I knew exactly how outclassed I was by the hunters we kept fighting. Without vampire blood, I could die.
“The effects of the blood are mostly positive,” I pointed out, trying to backpedal. I wasn’t ready to give up the blood, even if it did cause problems. I could learn to work around them, if I had a chance. “During the last mission, I scrambled around feeling like a liability the entire time. Now, I can actually fight like I need to.”
Dorian was silent for a long moment, then sighed. “I’m not sure any of the benefits are worth the cost you might have to pay.”
The anger in me pulsed but was still drowned out by the fear that was starting to grip my lungs. “I’m worried that I won’t get through the next battle without the advantages from the blood,” I said slowly. “We’ve managed so far. Stopping now, in the middle of the evacuation and before we try to take the training camp, could render me useless.”
The blood meant power, a power that gave me a place in this plane, finally. The Immortal Plane was Dorian’s home, and no matter what the rulers did, he would always belong here in a way my natural self never could. I just wanted to belong with him. I wanted to deserve him, not become a liability that he would someday regret.
Dorian sighed hesitantly. “I’ll think about it… but you must understand why I worry.”
I squeezed his hand, smiling reassuringly at him even as anxiety gnawed at my sternum. “I understand. But let’s not be too hasty, okay?”
He didn’t say anything more, and I knew better than to push him further. I needed to let him come to his own conclusion.
We finished the rest of our patrol in silence. Kono and Oz passed by on a redbill, headed to scout outside with Arlonne and Reshi. We would check the cave inside and out to make sure there was nobody left.
By the time we circled back, the scene at the Hive had changed. Two Coalition vampires hopped onto a healthy redbill to take the next patrol. Dorian ordered two pairs of scouts to be on constant surveillance at all times. All the injured were moved into one area. Those who could move went to work. The Hive elders gathered where Arlonne, Kono, and I had given directions earlier. This time, they were being productive.
“If you see someone who can’t walk, assist them in any way you can. Our medics will take care of them before they get on the redbills,” Mox boomed over the buzzing crowd. “If you have children, please do your best to keep them quiet. Hunter patrols have no mercy for crying children.”
Pyma herded the vulnerable, the very young and elderly, into a line, leading them toward a flock of surviving redbills. They would ride in the very center of the flock.
Some of the redbills were already laden with historical archives in tidy boxes. The Hive elders wore grim expressions, but at least they were acting like leaders. Mandola was conferring with Mox. She spotted us and explained their plan, which they’d already created based on our original one. Color me impressed.
Bryce would lead the charge to the tear with one group and call for the Bureau. The group would include any refugees unable to travel via portals—like our returning humans who weren’t in the planned raid on the training camp—and the precious historical archives. Pyma and Mandola would guard the documents going through the tear, unwilling to risk skimmer patrols taking out the last shreds of vampire history. Mox and Glim planned to travel with the other vampire refugees through the Immortal Plane, toward gates that would lead them to Scotland or around the UK. There, they had in
structions to contact Major Morag and the Scottish government for assistance.
The wildlings, makers, and harvesters couldn’t survive in the Mortal Plane for the same reason Juneau couldn’t leave the Immortal Plane: they needed the ambient darkness of this plane. After they had played their part in assisting on the journey, they would join back up with our raiding party if they wanted to continue the fight. Those who didn’t would disperse into the Immortal Plane. Gren was confident about the odds of the wildlings, makers, and harvesters evading the rulers, since these castes were much more capable of surviving in the wilderness. They had already developed codes among themselves for identifying each other as allies and promised to keep in contact with us if they could.
Our first priority was escorting the vampire refugees to the tear. After that, the raiding party would need to move fast. Our goal was to cause a distraction in order to keep the eyes of the rulers busy and away from the tear.
Redbills sailed out of the cave mouth past the jaspeths. A small girl cried as her mother placed her on the back of a redbill. Vampire scouts sat on overlooking protrusions by the jaspeth hive, keeping watch for intruders. Lines of Coalition vampires divided weapons, making sure that our raiding group’s artillery was safely stashed away for our mission. Adult vampires snapped at each other. Children wailed. Pyma barked orders over the shrill crying.
Dorian and I packed up everything we needed before we jumped on Drigar to fly over to the medic station. Sylas and the healers, vampire and wildling, had chosen to work in the mouth of the tunnel that opened in the cave wall, looking down on the bridge to the Hive. They’d constructed a temporary field hospital in the shallow alcove.
In this sheltered space, Roxy sat next to Kane, who was resting on a scavenged bedroll on the ground. His face held only remnants of shadows. Although he’d just fed, it seemed his blood loss had been greater than Dorian could replace. Kane blinked slowly and grunted in pain, but his eyes had more clarity than before. A good sign, I hoped.
“We’ve stabilized him,” a vampire healer informed us on our approach. “He’s not out of danger, though, as his condition is sensitive. His internal organs have been damaged, and the wound could easily reopen if he’s not careful. It will require significant care and rest.” The last, he directed to Kane, apparently as a continuation of a previous argument.
A great welling of sadness bubbled up inside me. “I’m so sorry, Kane.” I meant both for my behavior at the festival and his devastating injury. Kane ignored me. Roxy bit her lip but said nothing as Kane turned weakly to face Dorian.
My chest stung from the rejection, but I understood. What I’d done to him wasn’t right, and it would no doubt take time to mend. I used to think the worst part about Kane was his biting remarks… I’d never thought that I would miss them.
“I’ll have to head back to Scotland,” Kane explained bitterly. “I’ll miss the fight.”
“I’m going with him,” Roxy added. She must have noted my surprise that she would relinquish the chance to fight, because she shrugged. “I’ve been in the Immortal Plane for weeks now, to the point where I don’t think it’s healthy for me. I was thinking of going anyway, because honestly, I need the sun on my face and some food that isn’t plants grown with soul energy. I also want to make sure that Rhome and the kids make it back safely and to help them reunite with Kreya. It’ll be best if I go for sure now, with Kane like this.” She gave a wry grin. “No one else will be able to keep him from snapping at everyone and getting kicked out of the medical bay.”
“You’re only confident enough to say that because you know I can’t kick your ass right now,” Kane grumbled.
“Like you ever could,” she teased.
I couldn’t help but grin at the flash of his familiar attitude, even as I felt a heavy regret that we were going to part ways still on poor terms. I stepped back, suddenly feeling like I was intruding. Roxy stood and embraced me, but it was stiff. I patted her back, hoping some of my sincerity would get through to her.
“Give them hell for me,” she said, then leaned into my ear. “It’s just his pride. He’ll come around.”
It was barely audible, spoken low to keep Dorian or Kane from hearing. I nodded, even as I fought the urge to try again, demand Kane hear me out. Sure, Lyra, yell at the guy who just got stabbed through his stomach. That’ll show everyone how rational and in-control you are.
“We need to go and help with the evacuation,” Dorian said finally, crouching to gently squeeze Kane’s shoulder. “Good luck.”
I gave Kane a nod of farewell, which he stonily ignored, and then I joined Dorian. An invisible storm cloud of emotions haunted me. I was angry, but more than anything I felt guilty. My relationships seemed to be falling apart in painful slow motion around me. Worse, all of us were too busy to stop it. The short conversation with Dorian had wrenched the lid off the box of fears and questions I’d been ignoring for too long, and now I was trying to wrestle them back into confinement so I could keep functioning.
In an effort to banish my swirling conflict, I moved forward to help a nearby family struggling under the weight of their possessions. Right now, it was all I could do.
* * *
“The Hive is completely empty,” Linus reported. Despite his short stature and age, he brimmed with energy even under these circumstances. “Ready, everyone?”
I sagged slightly as fatigue nipped at me. Dorian stared up at the Hive reluctantly. Standing around us were the other members of the raiding party. Someone stifled a yawn. Zach stretched his arms overhead with a groan. We’d worked frantically to help the refugees evacuate, along with every last item of historical and cultural importance, before the hunters returned.
The lichen and glowing water made me delirious with their constant light. I relied on my watch to keep a basic semblance of time, a nonsensical comfort in the constant upheaval of the Immortal Plane. The evacuation marched forward, whether we were tired or not.
Reshi sat near the end of the tunnel, molding chunks of the slick cave wall into shiny rocks. A large pile lay beside her. Since our work had finally finished, I watched her for a moment. She caught my eye, and her lips flickered with a grin.
“We don’t have a lot of magic to go around, so excuse the cheap tricks,” she said, and pointed one of her four hands to her small cairn. “The harvesters managed to collect these souls during their patrols to look for refugees. This is what’s left. It’s not much, but it might be sufficient for an illusion spell.”
“I’ve only seen a few illusions before,” I admitted, and thought back to Gate Maker’s impressive work in the desert cave system.
“I’ll try to cover the entrance to the cave with the leftover magic I have. Hopefully, that will keep the hunters chasing their tails for a while, after we depart.” She hesitated. “For good, this time. Can you and Dorian do a quick sweep to check the cave’s exit on the outside? Make sure the rock looks convincing. And check for hunters, while you’re at it.” As she spoke, she waved a pair of her arms. The stones floated and moved themselves to create an evenly spaced line across the exit.
“Definitely,” I said, as Dorian led me to Drigar.
We mounted and flew from the cave. The sight of dim soul-light swirling in easy patterns threw me for a loop after being stuck in the cave for so long. We passed around the outside of the rocky protrusion that housed the cave. There were no signs of hunters in the hills or even skimmers on the horizon. When we were satisfied, Drigar circled back to the entrance.
Given all of Reshi’s hedging, I’d had low expectations for the illusion. I just hoped she’d had enough juice to create something that would pass at a glance. However, I frowned as I studied the outside of the cave, searching high and low for the exit.
“Do you see it?”
Dorian stared in disbelief. “No. I can’t feel the auras of the humans and wildlings inside, either.”
Reshi was worth her weight in gold. We called to our comrades, explaining our problem. Kono
shouted directions, guiding us back to the concealed area. Drigar threw his head in refusal as we flew him close to the rocks. Even he was convinced that there was solid rock barring our way. The illusion barely rippled, even up close. Impressive.
We rejoined our group and complimented Reshi on her fine work. There was one final thing to be done, though, before the evacuation could take flight. Our raiding party gathered just inside the now hidden tunnel. At our signal, the redbills carrying refugees launched themselves in groups, circling the cave like a growing storm cloud. After the last bill was in the air and she received the all-clear, Arlonne leaned over to survey the bridge connecting to the Hive. She brought her hand down, and a trio of redbills swooped upon the bridge, slashing with their sharp talons. The ropes snapped, and the bridge plummeted into the glowing water.
Reshi plucked a small golden pebble from her tool belt. Using her largest hand, she crushed the stone in her fist. For a moment, everything was still.
The ceiling gave a sudden tremor. The Hive shook and jostled. Multiple explosions burst through the papery walls, blowing chunks of the material into the water. We’d warned the aquatic wildlings of our intentions ahead of time so they could stay clear of the falling debris.
The flaming Hive creaked as it detached from the ceiling. It shuddered and dropped with a thunderous crash. Water surged in a tremendous wave, splashing over the fallen bodies of redbills in shallow areas.
The last haven of vampire culture slowly sank beneath the glowing waters of Lake Siron.
Now, the only thing left to protect was the people who were its final legacy.
Chapter Twenty-Five
I ran my hand over Drigar, who gave a strained but satisfied croak. His feathers were ruffled from the battle, but he was still ready. If he could do the long flight, so could I.
Dorian and I mounted Drigar. The others headed to their redbills, many teams splitting up to make sure there was one vampire to each redbill to help with the flying. Even wildlings couldn’t do much with redbills, it seemed.
Darklight 5: Darktide Page 20