Saba could have razed the mountain they had battled on with Arosh. While the Fire King couldn’t re-form the earth, Saba could. She pulled islands from the sea and remade the earth on a whim. She could have had the earth swallow them in one gulp if she wanted.
But she hadn’t.
None of it made sense.
Beatrice spoke. “Tenzin said you saw Saba in Addis.”
“Yes, in the garden with Hirut.”
She shook her head. “Giovanni and I were there, Ben. Neither one of us saw her.”
“I don’t know what to tell you. I know it was strange, but I’m positive it was her. I remember…” His mind reached back to the first time he’d encountered the mother of the immortal race. “I remember her from Rome. The scent of her. The feeling of her otherness. I’m positive that the woman serving us coffee in the garden that night was Saba.”
Beatrice shook her head slowly. “It was a human woman.”
“No.” Ben’s eyes didn’t waver. “It was her.”
“Why would she… reveal herself to you and not to Gio and me?”
“I don’t know that any more than you do, B. But I’m telling you, I know who I saw.”
Beatrice frowned, but she said nothing else. “Tenzin is coming. I’ll explain what I found when she gets here.”
It annoyed him that Beatrice could often sense Tenzin before he could. Her sire had been Tenzin’s mate, so the blood tie between them was unusually strong. Tenzin’s blood mixed with Beatrice’s sire was the likely reason that his aunt didn’t sleep much. Of course, like fire vampirism, day-walking was also a genetic quirk that simply appeared in some vampires.
It often led to insanity and could be passed through the blood. Tenzin had told him once that many day-walkers didn’t live very long and they rarely sired immortal children. Who wanted to pass on the curse of never-ending wakefulness?
His partner arrived seconds later and went to him, sitting next to him on the short sofa and snuggling into his side.
“Hi. Feel better?”
She nodded and rested her chin on his shoulder. “I took a shower. I had blood in my hair.”
“I hate it when that happens.”
“It’s very annoying.”
He kissed the tip of her nose. He couldn’t help it; she was lethally adorable. “Beatrice has something she wants to tell us.”
“Is it something that’s going to lead us to this damn scroll? I’m starting to get sick of this search.”
Beatrice said, “Yes, it might. And you’re only saying that because Ben didn’t let you loot that Aksumite treasury you found.”
Tenzin scowled. “I knew you and Giovanni would take his side.”
Beatrice smiled and picked up a book. “Give me a few minutes of your brain space and I think you might feel better.”
29
“How did you first hear that Arosh had found the bone scroll?” Beatrice asked.
“Zhang came to us in New York and told us,” Tenzin said. “Just the rumor of it was enough to put the elders in Penglai into a panic.”
“The bone scroll could alter the entire balance of the immortal world,” Beatrice said. “I’m not surprised Penglai was concerned. But how did Zhang hear about it?”
Tenzin cocked her head. “I don’t know.”
“I do,” Ben said. “Lan told him.” He shrugged when Tenzin stared at him. “I asked.”
Lan Caihe was one of the more mysterious elders on the council. They appeared to be very young—no more than a child of eleven or twelve—and often roamed widely through the human world. No one questioned Lan’s roaming because they often brought back useful information for the council, so it hadn’t surprised Ben that the enigmatic elder was the one who’d shared the news about Arosh and the bone scroll.
“Lan is a fire vampire,” Tenzin said. “I imagine they are particularly eager that Arosh doesn’t retrieve the scroll.”
“I imagine you’re right.” Beatrice set down her book. “I also imagine that Lan got that information from Saba’s sources.”
“Why do you say that?” Tenzin asked.
“Rumors, whispers, and political secrets,” Beatrice said. “I hate them. I prefer to get information directly, and I have my own sources in Penglai.” Beatrice picked up another book. “Lan was traveling in West Bengal when he got the news about the bone scroll. That news was shared by one of Saba’s granddaughters, Anavi. Lan passed it along to the council, as I’m sure Saba’s granddaughter knew they would.”
“Okay,” Ben said. “Where are you going with this?”
Beatrice set the book down and leaned on the table. “Saba’s intentions toward anyone and anything are… mysterious, to say the least. It was hearing about her involvement in your turning that got me wondering about her role in all this.” She looked at Tenzin. “I really wish you’d told us about that before a few weeks ago.”
Tenzin rolled her eyes. “I am tired of apologizing, and I won’t do it anymore.”
“Shocking.” Beatrice turned back to Ben. “She doesn’t think like other immortals; we all know that. And Arosh having the bone scroll could, in theory, make him more powerful than she is.”
Tenzin sat up. “You’re right.”
“It would fundamentally shift the power within their council,” Beatrice said. “Right now, Saba is the queen of Alitea without question. She takes the advice of Kato, Arosh, and Ziri, but when it comes down to a final decision on anything, everyone knows that her wishes are the law. She also has an army of cured vampires to do her bidding. I cannot think of a single vampire in the world whose power even comes close to hers right now.”
“But if Arosh could control all four elements…” Ben’s mind was whirling. He’d been thinking of Saba and Arosh as a unit even though Tenzin had warned him not to. They weren’t a unit. They were individuals with their own motivations and clans.
Beatrice continued. “Further, if Saba believes the theory that the scroll can only be used by a child of Mithra, then she’s out of luck because she’s no one’s child. Why would she want to make Arosh more powerful than she is?”
“She wouldn’t.” Tenzin stared at Beatrice. “Saba doesn’t want Arosh to get the scroll.”
Beatrice slowly shook her head. “I don’t think she does.”
Ben frowned. “So what is all this that she’s been doing for the past few weeks? She’s been helping Arosh search for it.”
“I think it’s theater,” Beatrice said. “A cover for her true intentions.”
“Which are?”
Beatrice bit her lip. “I don’t know for certain, but… Let’s wait for your uncle.”
He turned to Tenzin. “Do you think she wants to destroy it?”
Tenzin frowned. “No, I don’t think she’d do that. The ancients can be destructive, but not about knowledge. Saba couldn’t even destroy the Elixir manuscript after she knew it contained the recipe for vampire poison. She probably couldn’t bring herself to destroy the scroll.”
Beatrice said, “Ben, what was our original plan to search for the scroll in the north?”
“We were going to Bahir Dar and then Gondar. You and Giovanni were going to visit all the tourist sites with Sadia while Tenzin and I searched in the north.”
“Exactly,” Beatrice said. “Until Hirut asked Giovanni to consult with a priest in Lalibela.”
“Which was far closer to our search area,” Tenzin said. “So it worked out.”
Ben understood immediately. “Hirut wouldn’t have suggested Lalibela unless Saba wanted her to.”
Tenzin said, “But the manuscript Giovanni is consulting on—”
“Is intriguing.” Giovanni walked through library door and went to the table where Beatrice had her books spread out. “But the priests here don’t need my help in the least. They’re experts in Ge’ez manuscripts. I’ve been working with them, but I am the student here, not the teacher.”
“So why did Saba want us in Lalibela?” Ben asked.
Giovann
i and Beatrice exchanged a look. “Because your uncle is convinced that the bone scroll is here,” Beatrice said. “And he thinks Saba wants you two to find it.”
Dawn brought a halt to their meeting before they could go on, but Ben couldn’t stop thinking about what Beatrice had said. “Why would she want us to find it?”
Tenzin was curled next to him, her arm wrapped over his waist as he drifted toward sleep. “As much as I hate her, maybe her aims are the same as ours. She has seen more of the world than any living being. She knows that no one immortal should have that much power.”
“But why us?” Ben’s eyes closed, and Tenzin’s murmuring voice fell silent.
Ben dreamed of fire.
His eyes opened in the heat of a dark tunnel with blue flames licking along the walls. The tunnel wasn’t the red volcanic stone of the Amhara region but dark and dripping limestone that smelled of green vegetation, seawater, and a childhood lost before it could be.
He walked through the tunnel, but he was not burned, following the sound of a voice singing softly ahead of him.
Sadia sat on the floor of a mica-flecked grey cave with flames dancing around her. She looked up. “Ben!”
His heartbeat felt human again, raw and angry in his chest. “Sadia, it’s not safe here.”
She waved him closer, but he was afraid. He could feel the flames on his own arms, crawling up his clothing and creeping into his hair.
Sadia waved at him again. “Closer.”
“It’s not safe.”
“Closer!”
He gave in to her demands, bending down until his face was right in front of hers. She put her chubby hands on his cheeks and looked at him. “Your eyes are like mine.”
Ben blinked and she was gone. The cave was gone too, and he was standing in an open field where the stars shone like diamonds in the night sky.
Tenzin stood next to him, her hand over her heart.
“This is the place we truly worship.”
Ben turned to look at her. “What?”
“This is the place we worship.” She walked forward and bowed down, her head to the earth, as a figure walked toward them.
“Mother.”
But it wasn’t Saba, it was his human mother.
Ben felt a kick of revulsion at the hollow-eyed woman before him. Why was Tenzin bowing down to her? It was wrong. All of it was wrong.
But as he looked up, it wasn’t his mother that he saw. There was another woman, her face similar, but instead of being hollow, her cheeks were full and glowing. Her hair was silver, streaked with ebony where it peeked out from an elegant pink head covering. Another face took its place, similar again in features, but also different and this time younger. Then another face and another and another, female faces old and young, morphing and slipping into the past until the woman before him was a stranger with familiar dark eyes, elegant arched eyebrows, and curling ebony hair that tumbled down her back and over her shoulders. She smiled, and he saw the fangs peeking out from her mouth a second before she lunged at his throat.
He woke, gasping on the floor of a red stone passageway. The sky above him was streaked with flames so dense that the stars could barely show through.
“Boy, you are faithful. Your time is now.”
He turned and saw Saba resting on a stone bench, her back to the rock and her eyes on him.
“Mother.”
“Destroyer.” She stared at him. “There is no life without me; I give birth to death.”
Ben shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
Saba looked up at the fire-stained sky, and when she looked back at Ben, his mother’s face stared back at him. “My stolen son.”
“No.” He backed away from her. “You gave me up.”
Her face was the picture of agony. “No.”
He didn’t trust it. She had too many faces.
“They stole you.”
Ben blinked, and Saba stared at him again. Her smile was wide and her fangs were gleaming.
“Thief!” She laughed. “She taught you well.”
Ben turned and saw a roaring fire tumbling and twisting down the passageway. He turned back to Saba.
“Thief,” she whispered. “What are you waiting for?”
Ben woke with a start and felt the sun slipping beneath the horizon. Tenzin was beside him and turned when he gasped.
“What it is?”
“I was dreaming.”
“You’ve been dreaming a lot. It’s probably because of my blood. Instead of keeping you awake like Beatrice, it’s allowing your sleep to cycle more like—”
“That was the weirdest fucking dream I’ve ever had.” He turned to her. “Do you know where my mother is?”
Tenzin frowned. “What?”
“My human mother. Do you know where she is?”
Tenzin shook her head. “Do you want me to find her?”
No. No, of course he didn’t. What was he thinking? Unlike his father, he hadn’t seen his mother in years. Giovanni might know; he might have kept tabs on her, but he wouldn’t have bothered telling Ben the details unless he asked.
Who was he kidding? The way she drank, she was probably dead.
“Why are you asking about your mother?” Tenzin asked.
He put his hands over his face and rubbed hard. “This… this dream.”
“Explain it to me.” She rolled to her side and gave him her full attention. “How much do you remember?”
Your eyes are like mine.
“Sadia was in it. I’m probably… It’s probably because I’m afraid of her being here. Part of me really wishes that Dema would take her back to LA.”
“Giovanni and Beatrice won’t let anything happen to that girl,” Tenzin said. “Neither will I.”
“I know.” He grasped her hand. “I know that. And I’m not powerless either, I just—”
“You’re far more powerful than you realize,” Tenzin said. “I’m trying to be patient with you, but it can be frustrating.”
She taught you well.
“My mother was a thief,” he said. “Did I tell you that?”
“Yes. But you said she tricked people and lied to them. She didn’t steal directly.”
“I mean, she did whatever she needed to get high and get enough vodka to make it through the day.” Why was he talking about his mother? He hated even thinking about her. “I never met her family and I don’t remember her ever calling them or anything, so I think they were normal. I mean… not like us. Not thieves. I don’t think they even lived in the US. I think she was born in Beirut and emigrated. She told me once she was a ballet dancer who performed before the king of Lebanon, and a German count wanted to marry her.”
“That’s quite a story.”
“I think…” Ben tried to think back to some of the few pleasant moments of his youth. Stolen moments when he remembered smiling. “I think she might have actually been a dancer. She loved dancing to the radio.”
Tenzin laid her head on his shoulder and put a hand over his heart. “Did she dance to Louis Armstrong?”
He covered her hand with his own. “No, that’s just for us. She’d put on classical music sometimes and dance. I think it was ballet, so maybe part of what she said was true.”
It was the first time he’d remembered something positive about his mother in years.
“She was beautiful. My mother was beautiful.” Had she studied dancing? What turn had she taken in life to leave her alone in New York with a kid and no one who gave a shit about her?
Why did he care?
Tenzin was quiet for a long time. “Do you want me to find her for you?”
“No.” That part of his life had been dead since he was twelve. “She’s probably dead anyway.” And what did he feel about that thought?
Nothing. He felt nothing.
“The best thing she ever did for me,” he said, “was give me to Giovanni.”
“If she’d never given you to Giovanni, you’d probably still be human.”
There is no life without me; I give birth to death.
“If she hadn’t given me to Giovanni” —Ben tried to rid his mind of the crazy dream— “I’d probably be nothing. Just like her.”
30
Ben steepled his fingers and fought back the urge to break something—anything—to relieve the tension that had been his constant companion since nightfall. Images from his dream kept flipping through his mind.
Sadia in a burning cave.
Tenzin bowing down to his mother.
Saba whispering thief.
What are you waiting for?
He rubbed a frustrated hand over his eyes. “Why would Saba want Tenzin and me to find the bone scroll?”
Giovanni sat next to him in the library. Tenzin and Beatrice were across the table, and Doug appeared to be reading a magazine in the corner.
Giovanni said, “I think the obvious answer is that she doesn’t want Arosh to have it. She can’t bring herself to destroy it, but she doesn’t want him to find it either.”
“Why not just give it to us?”
Beatrice answered, “That would upset Arosh and damage the council in Alitea. You have to find it on your own and negotiate for it. Put her in a position where she has to grant you ownership of the scroll.”
Giovanni added. “And do it in a way that Arosh can’t criticize.”
Ben wanted to groan. Fucking vampire politics. It was all lies, manipulations, and face-saving gestures. It didn’t matter if it was Don Ernesto in Los Angeles, Zhang in Penglai, or Saba in Alitea. All of them were the same.
“Find the scroll and negotiate Saba into a corner until she is forced to ‘give’ it to us?” Tenzin actually used air quotes when she spoke. “Well, we’ve taken on more difficult jobs. This should be easy.”
Ben looked at her. “I can’t tell if you’re being sarcastic or not.”
Tenzin narrowed her eyes. “I’m not entirely sure either.”
Ben shook his head and turned to Beatrice. “Why do you think the scroll is in Lalibela?”
Beatrice pointed at Giovanni. “Because Hirut asked for his help with the writings of King Lalibela.”
The Bone Scroll: An Elemental Legacy Novel Page 22