by Колин Глисон
Victoria and Michalas stood guard between him and the vampires, in the event they felt it was their duty to shove him-or any of them-into the pool. Although that seemed as if it would be a futile effort, for the pool was hardly larger than a carriage, and likely wouldn’t be very deep.
The size of a wagon, but perfectly circular, except for a little bulge on its west side, the pool sat surrounded by flat white rocks built up in layers above and, likely, below the waterline.
“The orb is hardly larger than your palm,” Mercy said, moving to stand across the water from Sebastian. “You’ll have to feel around for it.”
“The water isn’t deep,” Sebastian replied.
But it was lethal, as they soon found when he poked a stick into its perfect mirror. He felt a faint shuddering of the branch, and when he withdrew it moments later, he saw that the part that had been submerged was gone. The edge of the stick smoked, as if it had been burned.
Sebastian drew in a deep breath and moved a bit closer to the edge. He looked down and saw his face reflected in the surface, perfectly detailed as if he looked in a mirror. The tops of Victoria’s and Michalas’s heads flanked his shoulders, and the flames of their torches flickered near the center of the image.
With a deep breath, he extended the little finger of his ringless left hand, the one that had been cut off at the second knuckle by the bloodthirsty Sara Regalado. Since it was already maimed, it couldn’t get much worse, he figured. He touched the blunt tip to the very top of the water and felt such a searing pain that he nearly screamed.
Jerking his hand back, he looked at the edge of his finger and saw that it was black. The flesh had been burned away where he’d touched the water, leaving a gleam of white bone in the center of the blackened skin.
God Almighty.
He looked up at Victoria, whose face had set grimly. “Let me do it,” she said, holding out her hand for the rings.
“No,” he said. “It’s not for you to do. The rings will protect me.” He hoped.
Flexing his right hand, the one with all five fingers still intact-and each one now encircled by copper-Sebastian offered up a little prayer. And he plunged his hand in.
The puddle shifted nary a ripple, but his fingers pushed through with no effort.
He felt the bite of the edge of the water’s surface against his arm, like a knife brushing against him, and he pulled his hand back, expecting to see blood.
Nothing. Not even a scratch.
And, oddly, no droplets of water splattered when he pulled out. Instead, it dripped off in heavy spherical drops, like mercury, sliding back into the pool and fading into invisibility.
He looked down and immersed his hand once again. This time, although he felt the cut of the water, he ignored it and began to gingerly seek the orb, unsure what other surprises he might find.
Beneath the surface, the pool felt just like any other body of water: surging, pressing, and wet. Sebastian moved his fingers around, feeling along for anything spherical. He touched a sandy bottom, smooth and without the slime of seaweed or the random bump of stone.
He inched closer to the edge of the water, and felt Victoria’s hands close around his shoulders, holding him steady and safe. That allowed him to seek further, and he stared at the image of his face on the water, with Victoria and her dark, tousled curls and anxious expression above and to the side of his.
He focused on the image of them together while using his hand to feel around, looking at her, and himself, his fingers brushing the soft bottom of the pool. He felt something sharp and pointed and paused, running his fingers around it, wishing he had another set of five rings so that he could use both hands to seek.
The object felt pyramid-shaped, heavy, larger than his hand, definitely not the orb. But he wondered what it might be.
Reluctantly leaving it in place, for the vampire eyes watched him closely, he slid his hand around to the right, sweeping farther and farther. As he searched, he concentrated by keeping his eyes focused on Victoria’s gaze in the image reflected below.
Having swept through most of the large section of the pool, he slid this time into the baylike bulge on the side. The water was deeper here, and it reached past his elbow when he brushed the bottom.
Then his bare fingers moved something hard and rough, very different from the sandy bottom or a glass sphere.
Then the rough object… opened, or gave way, or somehow changed under the pressure of his hand, and his arm slid deeper into the water. Sebastian felt a little zing of awareness trip through him as he felt something close around his hand and wrist… like sand or the mud of a bog.
He couldn’t move for a moment, couldn’t pull his hand out, and his breathing caught, his vision spotted.
There was a soft rustle in his ears, deep in his mind, whispering in the back of his head. Sebastian blinked and shook his head, refocusing on the mirrorlike pool where his hand remained immersed. He saw his face on the surface, and Giulia’s behind him, her long, dark hair falling over her shoulder and onto his.
Her lips moved. She was speaking, urgently, her eyes big and dark. Save me.
He cried out, reached out automatically behind him, yanking his hand from the water and twisting to touch her, flinging the ball-like droplets every which way. They bounced back into the pool as he realized no one was there behind him.
No one but Victoria, who, upon his exclamation of surprise, had pulled him back from the pool so that he tumbled onto his arse on the ground behind him. The black spots in his vision had gone, his hand was unharmed, and the little zing of awareness went away. His breathing rough, Sebastian shook his head and regained his focus.
Was he going mad, or had the pool triggered one of his dreams?
She’d never spoken to him like that before. Pleading, begging. Save me.
But how. Bloody damn how?
“Sebastian.” He looked up to find Victoria bending over him, her face close and definitely not like Giulia’s, except for the dark hair and dark eyes. Perhaps it wasn’t so far-fetched that his mind had played such a trick. “Are you hurt?”
“No,” he replied shortly. “I was merely startled.”
“What happened? Perhaps I should try-”
“No, damn it. Move out of the way, and let me try again. There’s not much more I haven’t searched, so if the orb is there, I’ll find it.” His hand was fine, and though that had been an odd sensation, he was unharmed. He’d never felt as though the pool was sucking him in or meant to drag him down. It hadn’t been… threatening.
Not threatening, but, perhaps… enlightening.
Ignoring the sharp look Victoria gave him, Sebastian moved to the opposite side of the pool and knelt there. The sun had gone completely to bed, and the only light was from the anemic half-moon and the orange cast from the torches. This, along with the position of the mountain behind him now, left the reflection of the pool darker and more indistinct. Just as well. He didn’t need to see Giulia crying for help.
Taking a deep breath, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Sebastian plunged his hand in once more. This time, the cut of the water hardly bothered him. His fingers moved deftly in this area of the pool, sifting over the soft piles of sand until at last they brushed something hard and smooth. Rounded.
The orb.
He covered it with his hand; it fit into his palm neatly enough, and felt warm and… pleasant. Gently tingly, lightly comforting, and solid.
Settling back on his haunches, he pulled his hand out, and there it was. The shining blue Tached’s Orb.
Its glow illuminated Victoria’s face as she bent closer. It bathed her cheeks and lips, the tips of her curls, with rays of silvery aqua. As he held it, he felt the continued heat of comfort and… peace. It was the only word he could think of to describe the well-being that trickled through him.
“Now remove the rings,” said Mercy in her grating voice. “I’ll have them.” Her eyes glowed greedily red-violet, and her fangs poked into her bottom lip.
“There is one other item I wish to retrieve from below.”
Sebastian thought of the prism he’d touched earlier. “What is it you seek?”
“Take off the rings,” Mercy repeated, but then her words trailed off.
Victoria had moved and now had a stake in her hand, and a sword in the other. “You seem to have forgotten your manners, vampire,” she said. Her eyes glittered, and Sebastian could see that she spoiled for a fight.
“It’s of no use to mortals,” Mercy said. “Only to the undead.”
“I see no reason to accommodate your undeadness,” Victoria replied. “Now move away, and we’ll be off to the portal. Or… Brim?”
Sebastian looked to see that Brim had, for all of his massive bulk, moved quickly and quietly to capture the Guardian vampire. He held him from behind, stake poised over his undead heart.
Mercy cast a quick glance, then shrugged. “You’ll face Lilith’s wrath if the three of us don’t return.”
“Oh, dear. Lilith’s wrath? I don’t believe I’ve ever faced that in my life.” Victoria moved her head in permission, and Brim slammed the stake home. The damned Guardian never had a chance. “Now do you wish to take us to the portal, or will you be next?”
As the undead dust settled, Sebastian saw Mercy take a step back. The vampire pressed her lips together, fury burning in her eyes.
But Sebastian saw that Victoria wasn’t about to forgive her insult, and she whipped out her own stake. Michalas moved quickly as she did so, shoving the other Imperial toward the pool. He screamed as he fell, catching himself on the side. Brim planted his foot in the back of the undead and gave a solid push, quickly removing his foot before the boot burned away.
Mercy shrieked, “Lilith will kill him!”
But Victoria had already leapt toward her, over and away from the pool. Sebastian watched warily, but he also thought he understood why Victoria wanted this battle, here and now. She had to relieve that coiled tension and worry somehow.
The battle was short; whether because it was a surprise or so furious, it didn’t matter. Victoria took a few blows, gave some of her own, and then had and took the opportunity to shove the stake through Mercy’s heart.
“No more Mercy,” she said grimly, standing and dusting her hands off.
Sebastian gave Victoria the orb, and she wrapped it carefully in a cloth and slipped it into an inside pocket of her trousers.
“What else was in the pool?” she asked softly as they stood, preparing to mount their horses.
“It felt like a small pyramid of some sort. That was the only other thing I found,” he said. “And I’m not sure what it is. I could take it out, but without knowing what it is or if it has powers, I think it best that we don’t. Perhaps Wayren will know, and we can retrieve it later.”
“Each of us should take one of the rings then,” Victoria said quietly. “The last thing we need is for anyone to get all five of them together again and be able to breach the pool.”
Sebastian agreed wholeheartedly and slipped his fingers around the band on his thumb. But it wouldn’t move. At all.
“What the bloody hell?” he muttered. He tried to pull another one off, the one that had seemed the loosest. It wouldn’t budge, not even to twist around his finger.
The rings were stuck fast to his skin.
Eighteen
A Parting of Ways
She hadn’t bitten him yet.
Max leaned against the wall, the silk coverings smooth over the rough stone beneath. His forehead pressed into the cloth, and he felt a long trickle of sweat roll down his spine.
Or perhaps it was blood.
He’d lost track, and allowed it all to ebb into a blur of memory rather than accept the reality.
“Come now, Maximilian,” came that hated voice. “Join me. You must be hungry.”
Hungry? Food was the furthest thing from his mind.
All he wanted was fresh, cool air. Any color but red. Anything but heat and the sweet smell of roses. And the feel of her hands on his skin.
The wrist manacles clinked as she drew him away from the wall, reeling him toward her. He didn’t fight it, but took his time walking toward her, tall and easy.
Max had learned when to fight and when to submit. As long as she remained amused and didn’t become frustrated by his power and strength, he had a chance. The balance was delicate.
The problem was, he didn’t know how long he’d have to play the game. He could end it all at any moment… but there was always hope. Hope alternating with fear.
He didn’t want Victoria to come… yet he did. And he knew she would.
It was simply a matter of when.
And, oh God… whether she’d succeed.
He prayed that she’d do the right thing, and close the portal first.
Please. Do not let this be for naught.
Lilith indicated for him to kneel at her side, and she leaned toward him, her mouth brushing his neck. As always, the revolting sensation of one hot, one cold lip smoothing over his skin made his stomach tighten. Her hands slid up the back of his scalp, threading into his hair.
“I think I won’t allow you to cut your hair again,” she murmured near his ear, playing with the ends that curled under his jaw. He remained impassive, despite the horrible slithering sensation under his skin. “I do like it long. We’ll have to let it grow a bit more.”
That was a good sign, then. She didn’t plan to try to turn him anytime soon. At least until his hair was the length she required.
Thank God that the hair and nails of the undead didn’t grow.
“I know you think that she’ll come after you,” Lilith said companionably, her fingers smoothing over his chest. She avoided the vis bulla, and had forced him to remove the larger cross he’d been wearing earlier.
Now his only protection was the vis, and the four small vials of holy water secreted in each of the heels of his boots. The boots stood at one side of the chamber, near the pallet where he slept. He’d not had to resort to them yet, but once she bit him he would.
“She is Illa Gardella, and has other tasks to attend to,” he replied coolly. “Unlike you, she is dedicated to protecting her race.”
Her nails suddenly dug into the skin of his back, then jerked down, hard. A little warning. He complied by producing a soft groan, knowing it would please her that she caused him pain.
“Why must you be so cruel and cutting? Can you not accept your fate?” she asked.
Now he was certain the trickle down his back was blood. Lilith slipped her fingers through the moisture and brought them delicately to her mouth, licking his blood from each of them as though she’d just finished a frosted cake.
She jolted back and looked at him, her eyes narrowing. Ah. “What is this?” she asked, fury burning in the blue-ringed red. Her lips shriveled into an angry pucker.
“Do you taste it, then?” he asked, shifting away from her. “Did you truly think I’d come to you unprepared?”
“What is it?” she asked, her eyes widening, and the veins in her face showing like blue lines.
“A newly anointed Venator,” he replied. “I drank a good portion of blessed water before and after the Trial, and it still runs through my veins.”
She hissed at him, her irises impossibly red, her fangs long and wicked… Then her fury eased into a feral smile that bothered him much more than her anger. Death would be so much easier.
“Indeed, Maximilian, pet, you continue to surprise me. I wonder if you shall continue to do so as the centuries progress… or if I’ll become bored with you.”
She pulled him closer and looped a link from his chains high on the wall so that he couldn’t move away.
“So I cannot feed on you until your blood is no longer diluted by holy water. How very clever of you to create such anticipation.” Her cool, skeletal fingers cupped his shoulders, then smoothed down the curve of his biceps. “There are many other ways to pass the time until then, my dearest.”
And so c
ontinued the second day of his captivity.
Sebastian sat upright, pulled abruptly from sleep.
Sweat poured off his skin, partly from the blaze of noontide sun pouring from the window of an inn, and partly from the dream that still pounded him. His heart raced, his fingers dug into the fabric around him.
Good Lord, would it never end?
This series of nightmares had come with stronger images and a deeper sense of urgency than the others. Shaking his head to dispel the last tendrils of the dream of Giulia begging him to save her, he drew in a long, deep breath and closed his eyes. What was he to do?
He couldn’t help but wonder if it was related to the events of last night, when he stuck his beringed hand into the pool and felt himself sucked into a vortex of memory and images. She’d never begged him to Save me. … Not until now.
Was it possible that he even could?
Was there some event that might allow him to do so, after all these years?
Or was he simply going mad?
As he lay there, wisps of words and phrases mixed and mingled like threads of smoke in his mind. A long promise… a savior.
Those for whom he lives… shall be saved.
He shoved away the unnecessary blanket that had stuck to his perspiring flesh and sat up, his heart pounding. Brim, who’d been keeping watch while the others rested, glanced over at him.
Sebastian stood, unsteady on his feet, and hissed, “Rest. I’ll watch now.”
The rings glinted on his hand as he reached for the pitcher of water. Damn rings. Would they never come off?
What did it mean?
He gulped the water, lukewarm in the heat, and glanced out the window. They’d found the orb last night and left immediately, traveling until late this afternoon. The sun burned hot all the rest of the day, leaving its heavy imprint even on the night, making sleep miserable even when he could turn off the disturbing images.
Giulia’s face still haunted him, the phrases paraded around in his mind as though trying to embed themselves like a burrowing worm.