The Dark Blood of Poppies

by Freda Warrington

On the banks of the Rhine, they broke from the Ring to survey the undulating flank of the hill rising from the river, the ancient trees with their roots twisted around rocks, and on the ridge, the brown, turreted bulk of Schloss Holdenstein. No sign of life, no one coming or going. Yet at the sight of the castle, Violette felt agitated, as if frozen fingertips were dancing over her skin. Lilith’s easy rage and power deserted her.

  If I go in there, I’ll never come out.

  “Let me appear first,” said Karl, “I’ll create a diversion to give you a chance of attacking Cesare. Simon took me by surprise last time, but he won’t again.”

  “Yes,” said Violette. “Come on.”

  The Schloss, seen from the odd perspectives of Raqia, had curious delicacy and a strange ochre cast. Steeped in centuries of vampiric power, it seemed to exist in both worlds at once. The walls impeded them like clay and honey as they passed through.

  Inside, the castle was as dank and unwelcoming as she remembered. But the atmosphere was intense, shimmering with the massed glow of torches, lamps and candles.

  “I’ve never seen so much light here,” said Karl, “nor so many vampires, since Kristian died.”

  Humans were everywhere. Vampires and men worked together, trying on robes like friends dressing each other for a carnival in a mood of frantic excitement. They glimpsed Ilona and Pierre, assisting Maria with the dressing. Violette and Karl moved through the castle like shadows, flitting in and out of the Ring, and everywhere they saw the colours of those robes; pure white and arterial red.

  Entering the heart of the castle, they came to the inner sanctum, Cesare’s den. Seen from the Ring, the unlit chamber looked flat and unreal.

  Cesare was not there.

  “He’s not in the castle,” said Karl, “and neither are Simon or John. I can’t sense them anywhere. Can you?”

  They slipped out of Raqia and stood in darkness, perceiving with vampire sight the subterranean glimmer of the walls, reaching out with all their senses for life and danger.

  Then Violette felt something. A great weight above them, unseen powers descending like three huge, muffled figures gliding down from an immeasurable distance…

  Karl, too, was staring upwards. She grabbed his sleeve. “Karl!”

  They leapt into Raqia, too late. The whole world tilted sideways. For a split second, Violette felt an uprush of coldness, disorientation, the Crystal Ring sifting down like snow. Then she and Karl slammed into a wall of light.

  They were back in the sanctum with torches and candles blazing around them. Violette hit the floor and lay like a bird twitching its useless wings, Karl beside her. Looking up, she saw John, Simon and Cesare gazing down with reptilian smiles.

  The room shook in time with her heartbeat as she climbed to her feet. Her anger and power dissipated. She thought, What am I doing here? What did I think I could achieve?

  Karl stood beside her and cupped her elbow in a protective gesture. Normally she hated to be touched, but now she barely noticed.

  They surrounded her, faces full of contempt: Simon the gilded sun-god, Cesare a choirboy with the steely eyes of a general, John a scarred mass of hatred. They’d accumulated massive powers, she realised, absorbing energy from the ancient walls, from the blood of luscious youths and from storms of the Crystal Ring. They fed each other with self-importance.

  All Lilith’s strength withered before theirs. I knew this was a mistake, Violette thought. I can’t kill Cesare – but I won’t submit either! It’s the same as with Lancelyn. I thought I could, but I can’t.

  Her most powerful instinct was to flee. She felt defenceless, as she once had in the hands of Senoy, Sansenoy and Semangelof. And Lilith’s nature was to fly free, not to stand and fight.

  “There’s no need for violence,” said Karl. “We entered in peace.”

  “But where are Fyodor and Rasmila?” said Simon. “They were meant to accompany Lilith. Fulfilment of destiny…”

  He looked puzzled, disappointed – As if, thought Violette, his rejection of them was a huge, cruel test. Arrogant of him to be so certain they would understand and pass. Yet he was right. In spite of his cruelty, they still tried. Idiots.

  “We haven’t seen them,” said Karl.

  Simon’s expression tightened. Violette thought he would attack Karl. “Have you not?”

  “No. We waited; they failed to keep the appointment,” Karl said sardonically. “Do you think we killed them? Would you care?”

  “Yes. I would care, very much,” Simon said thinly.

  “Why are you here, Karl?” said Cesare. “There may be unsettled scores between us but you’re no longer of any importance. She’s the one we must deal with.”

  He pointed at Violette but didn’t grace her with a glance. Trying to reduce her to an object.

  “I’m here to witness your actions,” said Karl. “After all, only Sebastian can vanquish her. Isn’t that what you believe?”

  “An unproven theory, Karl,” Simon replied. “Samael and Lilith are equal but the same, destructive, whereas we represent the Right-Hand Path of God. Whose side will you take? Would you give your life to save Lilith? What a waste. She hates you. She corrupts Charlotte, kills and mutilates your friends, despises your daughter. What reason have you to make noble sacrifices for her?”

  “Simply to stop the madness of creating a new race of vampires,” said Karl.

  “You could have recreated the world, Karl,” said Simon. “You had your chance, and turned it down.”

  “If I’d agreed,” Karl said coolly, “I would without doubt have been as mad as John by now.”

  “Not you,” said Simon, “my love.”

  “So you’re using Cesare instead, despite the fact that you loathe him?” Violette said with contempt. “Are these God’s instructions? You couldn’t control me, so now you try to do so through Cesare. God’s envoy? You’re nothing, a parasite feeding on anyone foolish enough to fall for your lies.” Cesare and Simon only regarded her with bland arrogance, John with the mindless menace of a bull. “You’re all poison.”

  “No,” Simon replied. “You are the snake, Lilith, the venomous serpent in our garden of immortality.”

  Cesare approached her, coming so close that his metallic eyes almost hypnotised her. “We revile your dark destructiveness. We want a bright, golden future and the dominion over mankind that is rightfully ours.”

  All she had to do was to seize him and stab her fangs into his neck. But she couldn’t move. She thought, Why am I afraid instead of angry? This is not me, not Lilith.

  “Leave her alone,” said Karl. “You’ve made your point.”

  Too late, she realised that Cesare’s approach was a distraction. Movement – then John’s hands clamped on her shoulders like red-hot iron, while Cesare grabbed and pinioned her arms.

  All her once-boundless strength deserted her.

  She saw Karl leap at Cesare, fangs extended, fingers clawing at the leader’s throat. Saw Simon lash out and knock him aside, so violently that Karl hit the flagstones. Simon swooped, pinned him down and buried his face in Karl’s throat.

  Violette was borne down to floor. In shifting his grip, Cesare released her, and she took the chance to slash John’s face with her nails. Then Simon loomed, pressing her legs to the floor while Cesare and John held her arms. John was like a boulder on her, as if his small form held a ton of invisible muscle.

  I killed Matthew as a cat kills to protect her kittens – can’t you see?

  Karl was silent. She couldn’t turn her head to see what had happened to him.

  Simon stared intently at her, his fingers like vices on her knees. The conquering warrior. And she knew, with absolute horror, that he intended to rape her.

  “You should have let Lancelyn do this.” He pushed her legs apart as he spoke. “But you were too proud. You’d destroy a man sooner than let him invade your so-perfect body. You’ll be damned for your pride, Lilith. I want the wisdom you denied to Lancelyn.” His tone was sneering. “
Let me break the veil and enter the sanctum of the Black Goddess. Then you won’t mind doing the same for Cesare, and John, and Pierre, and all the others, all these virile young mortals.”

  Her revulsion hung fluttering on the edge of insanity. Stopping Lancelyn had been easy. But Simon was no weak, sweating human. This was a ruthless, heartless intelligence whose strongest desire was to humiliate her.

  Simon moved a hand to her thighs, pushing up her dress to her stocking-tops. With her free leg she kicked out, caught him hard in the chest, then spun away into the Crystal Ring, twisting as she went so they couldn’t keep hold of her. The chamber turned dark and distorted like the depths of a lake. Violette soared up towards the light, with their demonic hands catching at her, clawing, wounding. But she evaded them and flew.

  They were pursuing her. How many times had this happened, Lilith flying from her three pursuers? They were close, barely a few inches behind her, their fingers tangling in the webs of her hair. She glanced back in panic. Cesare’s form in the Ring was a drab grey streak. John was a deformed crimson bull. Simon glowed, no longer golden but the baleful orange of hot coal.

  Losing Fyodor and Rasmila had diminished him, but his lust for power had corrupted his soul.

  No, she thought. His failure to subdue Lilith diminished him, and he’ll never forgive me. It’s not just power he needs, but purpose.

  The skyscape swivelled past in a blur. Directionless, she strove for freedom, swimming through a hostile ocean.

  “Run, Lilith,” said Simon. “Flee as if the Devil were on your tail.”

  They were laughing at her.

  Then she knew. They were letting her escape. Worse; they were driving her.

  The substance of the Ring thickened around her. She floundered through sand and slush. Looking up, she saw the vast midnight fortress ahead, the hellish accretion that had begun to afflict Raqia from the moment of her creation. It hung across the sky, a rootless mountain with forests flowing from its skirts. And they were forcing her towards it.

  She found herself stumbling into a nightmare forest. The trees were close-set, carbonised spikes that shifted and murmured around her. They terrified her, but she was forced to run between them, like the dryad Lila in the ballet, pursued by hunters in the shape of hell-hounds.

  Now Violette was running on all fours, like a wolf. She climbed a black slope that ran with blood – but when she bent to lap at it, it tasted of nothing, like glass. She cursed God as she ran, but she didn’t weep. These monsters would never make her weep.

  They ran her to ground against the wall of the fortress. Her back was pressed to the basalt wall. The three hounds of hell panted around her, their eyes red embers.

  “This is the end,” said Cesare. “Surrender!”

  “Never.”

  “You must,” said Simon. “This is your place of exile. You have nowhere else to go.”

  Following his gaze, she looked upwards over her shoulder at the fortress towering out of sight.

  “Yes,” said Cesare. “Go inside. You created this monstrosity, Lilith. It’s fitting that it should be your prison.”

  “We never wanted to destroy you,” Simon added with mocking sweetness, “only to contain you. What will it be? Defilement or exile?”

  Pressing herself back, she felt the wall softening beneath her. She glared into their arrogant faces, projecting all the impotent fury and hatred she felt. If she chose the prison, she would be alone forever – but at least her spirit would be intact.

  “Exile,” she whispered.

  “So be it,” said Simon.

  John nodded; not with glee, only with satisfaction. He said calmly, “Now Matthew can rest.”

  “Go then,” said Cesare. “Go inside and reap the harvest of your nature.”

  Violette gave up, and the wall drank her into herself. She dissolved as if falling slowly into a lake of ink, welcoming the utter darkness as if it were a lover, her other-self, the black hag of death.

  * * *

  Robyn seemed to be moving… yes, rising. Light gleamed above her. Colours of incredible beauty, stormy heliotrope and amber fire.

  All her fear was gone. She knew the three beautiful demons were with her, although she couldn’t see them; there was only light, and a wonderful sense of anticipation.

  Something I meant to do… Oh, to tell Alice and Josef I’m sorry… to tell them I’m all right…

  The thought faded, and ceased to matter.

  Every earthly concern relinquished its hold on her.

  Now she saw swirling blackness coming towards her, like angel wings or a great cloak. Violette! The beautiful Dark Mother was winging across the sky to save her.

  Robyn turned over in the sea of fire and lay along Sebastian’s body, her arms around him, her head on his shoulder. She couldn’t see him but she knew he was there. No more conflict between them, only perfect tenderness and peace. Nothing to do but wait for Violette. She was close now, her silky black feathers all around Robyn, filling her world.

  She smiled and let go of her last breath.

  Fell into the kind darkness of Lilith’s wings.

  * * *

  Sebastian didn’t feel the Crystal Ring’s chill as they drew Robyn into it. He was on fire with her blood and her life-essence, wildly determined, fiercely excited.

  They formed the enchanted circle: three immortals sharing their strength to draw a mortal, on the point of death, into the other-realm. The Crystal Ring flowed like blood to fill desiccated cells with bright energy, dark hunger. Ah, the miraculous change from human to vampire.

  Robyn’s body hung between them, bluish-white. Her hair drifted like sea wrack. He watched for the change, for whiteness to blush into rose and down through the deepest reds to ruby-starred ebony. He waited. He was aware of energy flowing from Rasmila’s hand to his, a tingling current that would channel life into the initiate’s body…

  Arctic bitterness zinged on his face.

  He felt the current flow from his hand to Robyn’s, and stop.

  The Ring held her but did not enter her. Her form should have been a sponge in water but instead it was a stone, smooth and impervious.

  All this seemed to take place slowly but in fact was very brief. Sebastian’s disbelief as he realised that nothing was happening – and then the electric shock between his hand and hers, flinging them apart.

  In panic he tried to seize her again, but she slipped through his fingers like melting ice. Then she vanished. Winked out of the Ring as if she’d never been there.

  Rasmila stared at him across the gap where she’d been. Ghastly, the knowing look in her eyes.

  Sebastian dived back to Earth. He found Robyn beside the bed where he’d taken her life. She lay on her side, one arm flung out on the rug, the other folded across her breasts, her legs softly bent. He fell to his knees beside her.

  A second later, Fyodor and Rasmila reappeared.

  “Help me!” he cried, seizing Robyn’s limp wrist. “Form the circle again!”

  They looked gravely at him. Then they obeyed with maddening slowness. “Hurry, God damn you!”

  But the moment was lost. Robyn remained tethered to the world, slipping out of their hands like soaped marble each time they tried. The Crystal Ring would not accept her.

  A long time passed before it dawned on Sebastian that he was acting hysterically. He realised then that Fyodor and Rasmila were helping him, only to prove that it was hopeless.

  He lay over Robyn’s body, kissing her waxy cheeks, trying to will the life back into her. She was so white, so heavy. He had done this to her. He began to weep bitterly, his tears running over her closed eyelids and into her open mouth.

  “What did we do wrong?” he cried. He glared up at the others. “You – you betrayed me, you bastards!”

  Rasmila pressed her hand to his wrist. “Sebastian,” she said calmly, “we did nothing wrong. Sometimes the transformation does not work. You knew that before we began.”

  “But why?” He
kept staring at Robyn, touching her, sobbing uncontrollably. “Why?”

  “Many reasons,” said Fyodor. “She told you it was against her will. I’ve never known anyone resist the transformation by will alone, but –” he shrugged “– there are some the Crystal Ring won’t accept.”

  “It’s Violette’s fault,” Sebastian said, his voice hoarse. “She turned Robyn against me.”

  “More than that,” said Fyodor, leaning against a bedpost. “The changes she caused as Lilith in the Crystal Ring may have prevented –”

  Sebastian leapt up and seized the thin material of Fyodor’s shirt. Fyodor winced, turning his blanched face away. “Is that what it comes to?”

  Rasmila tugged at his arm. “What, Sebastian?”

  “You made this go wrong, to set me against Violette! Killed Robyn in order to use me like your tame warrior in some grand cosmic battle!”

  “No, no,” she said soothingly. She went on pulling his arm until he let Fyodor go. “We did not, I swear. Lilith is already ours; we had no reason to harm Robyn!”

  But they didn’t care, he knew. He wanted to rip them apart for their indifference. And suddenly he understood. “You told Violette where to find Robyn! Jesus Christ! Nothing matters to you, does it? You act but you don’t feel. You are reptiles, not angels. God forbid I should ever become like you!”

  “Every pain and every loss you suffer will make you a little more like us,” Fyodor replied.

  “Get out,” said Sebastian. He got up and thrust a poker into the embers of the fire.

  “You don’t mean this. It’s grief speaking,” said Rasmila. “We warned you about Lilith. We tried to help you. If this is Lilith’s fault, don’t blame us!”

  “And she’s going to pay for it,” Sebastian said grimly. “But on my terms, not yours. Now get out of here before I kill you.”

  “Don’t send us away. We are forsaking Simon for you!” Rasmila persisted, her tone musical, soothing. “When we take Lilith to Simon, and he is overcome by our dedication and begs us to return, then we’ll laugh and tell him it’s too late, we belong with you instead. How beautiful our revenge will be! You promised us that we three would be together, a trinity more powerful than ever we were with him.”