Death's Ethereal Enemy

by Ruby Loren

  January’s eyebrows had raised when she read that. The book spoke about the group she suspected had gone on to become the first vampires and form The Clan… but who had been their leader? Her money was on Warwick.

  With a great effort, she turned the page and was met with an aeons old drawing of five people gathered around a bubbling cauldron.

  She read the next few lines. The witch worked the magic spell and the faithful followers did indeed become immortal, but it came at a terrible cost. They needed the blood of mortals to sustain themselves, and within them they carried a curse that would be unleashed upon the world.

  It was the drive to create more like them - a terrible race who had the potential to consume the planet and destroy themselves in the process. For when every last human was gone, so too would the vampires.

  January looked up from the book and tried to remember what Leah had told her. She’d said that she was the first one they’d made, after being made themselves, but how had they done it? Having seen this book, January suspected Leah had been changed the same way the Old Ones had - by use of a spell. Otherwise, Leah would not have retained her powers. January knew that witches turned vampire did not retain their abilities.

  She read on, and the book seemed to follow her thoughts. It claimed that the only blessing within the curse was that the children of the first would be mere shadows of their creators.

  January turned another page and took the door off its hinges in her room back home.

  This terrible act was done because the great witch, who had already attained immortality by some dark and twisted means, could not bear to spend all eternity alone. And so the first vampires were made, and the eternity was to be shared.

  January looked at the illustration on the opposite page and felt her heart drop.

  It was the girl with the amber eyes.

  The artist had captured her expression perfectly. She had been the one to make the vampires because she hadn’t wanted to be the only immortal on the earth. The writer of the book thought her to be a vampire, too, when in fact, she was something entirely else.

  January thought back to the illustration on the previous page. Five people had gathered around the cauldron. Four members of The Clan, she had met. The fifth was supposed to be dead.

  “Adelaide,” January said aloud.

  “That’s right,” a voice answered.

  “Emerson,” she said, turning away from the book without much surprise.

  Emerson stood a little way behind her. She could tell he was there in ethereal form, too.

  “Are you surprised yet?” she asked, wondering why he wasn’t already trying to end her. She’d just broken into their most secret archive and found out some pretty earth-shattering information.

  “Not really,” Emerson said with the most infuriating shrug. “I told you not to try anything crazy like this, so it stands to reason you’d do the complete opposite.”

  “I thought you'd run off to find the other enchanter,” January said.

  “I did run off, but halfway through running, I thought about what I was doing.” His eyes met January’s. “What if I were to tell you that our group isn’t as united as we might appear on the surface?”

  January raised an eyebrow. “All this time, and you're still fighting amongst yourselves?”

  Emerson smiled, a little ruefully. “Some of us change, and some of us stay the same. The world changes, too. All of these things are factors which alter opinion. Mine has been changed, somewhat.” He looked at January for a little too long.

  “That’s so illuminating,” she said, sarcastically.

  Emerson smiled, but it soon faded. “Now you know about Adelaide.”

  “She made you,” January said, still astonished. “She was an enchanter, and she used her power to make you.”

  “Can you understand why?”

  January thought about it. She thought about how terrible vampires had always seemed, and how virtuous she’d felt killing them. She thought about all of the pain, suffering, and death they'd caused.

  Then she thought about how lonely Adelaide must have felt, having surely already lived for multiple lifetimes, being forced to watch everyone she ever cared about grow old and die.

  How much of that could anyone take before they finally tried to do something to change it?

  “You do understand,” Emerson said, sounding surprised.

  January looked at him with her eyebrows raised.

  “I suppose you have surprised me after all,” he confessed.

  His eyes sunk down to rest on the page of the book, which displayed the illustration of Adelaide.

  “She died.” He looked up at January. “We knew she couldn’t die, of course, but this time it was different. We were sure she was really gone. It was so terrible, it nearly destroyed Warwick.”

  “What happened?” January asked, feeling as though she was about to stare her own death in the face.

  Emerson looked deflated. “We thought we’d done everything there was to do in this world. Then Adelaide told us about the other place - the one which overlaps this one. She said there were people there, and that she’d visited and they were interesting. They had technology and order. It was a different world.”

  January frowned. “You didn’t know about that before then? What about the thin places? You must have seen through them?”

  Emerson looked at her, curiously. “Seen through them? We’d heard tales about sounds of laughter and talking that came from nowhere, but we’d thought it was just tricks. Adelaide never put us straight, until she decided to tell us about the other place.”

  “When that thin place opened up in the arena… you couldn’t see it?” She wanted to get this straight.

  Emerson looked at her. “We saw the portal and the soldiers, but that was certainly an exception. The only other time any of us has seen through, was when Adelaide tried to make us see. Then she took it one step further…”

  “What did she do?” January asked.

  Emerson looked solemn. “She tried to take us over there, so we could see it for ourselves. Back then, we had a foolish notion that we might be able to have a stake in both worlds. It was an adventure, and when you’ve lived for a certain length of time, you leap at the chance for anything new.” He shook his head, his eyes lost in the mists of the past. “Adelaide loved Warwick enough that she did as he asked and tried to take him there, before the rest of us. We were supposed to go together, but they went out at daybreak and tried to cross over. When she stepped through one of these ‘thin places’ she tried to bring Warwick after her.” Emerson swallowed. “He burned up.”

  “What?” January said, unsure if she’d heard him correctly.

  “He burned up. According to Warwick, he was dead in a very permanent manner. It’s as though he ceased to exist when he crossed over. But Adelaide loved him, so she gave him everything. Somehow, she must have put him back together - but it cost her everything. Warwick remembers being alive again and watching her disappear from existence.”

  “Ah,” January said, realising what had really happened.

  “Unless what you’re seeing is some kind of trick, Adelaide isn’t as dead as we thought,” Emerson confirmed.

  January shook her head. “It’s no trick. I’ve felt her magic. She is an enchanter. She told me, too. She said…” She trailed off, getting carried away and forgetting exactly who she was talking to. Now wasn't the time to have a heart-to-heart with someone who was essentially her slaver.

  “As intrigued as I would be to hear the end of that sentence, it’s far more important that we plan our next move.” His eyes seemed to zero in on her. “You may not trust me yet, but I’m going to make a leap of faith and trust you.”

  January waited.

  “We’re the only two people - aside from Adelaide - who know the truth. There’s probably a way to use this knowledge to our advantage. Perhaps it will even be the key to toppling our great and glorious leader,” Emerson said, dryly.
/>   “Are you trying to get me to conspire against Warwick? This sounds like a setup to me.”

  “I suppose you haven’t exactly spent much time with us on an everyday basis, so you wouldn’t know. Warwick and I don’t get on,” Emerson explained.

  “After thousands of years, you expect me to believe that now is the time you’re choosing to mount a rebellion?” January was determined not to fall into some scheme.

  “For thousands of years, there were no enchanters in the world. Well, that we knew of. Now there are two - the maker and you. Imagine what the three of us could achieve together.” Emerson’s eyes flashed.

  January laughed a little. “Please tell me you don’t want to come out of the shadows and take over the world?”

  “Quite the opposite. I don’t want to have the world under our thumb. I don’t want to amass pointless wealth. I want a life. One like your favourite vampire, Gregory Drax, has.”

  January raised an eyebrow. “He’d probably swap with you, if you asked.” She smirked, imagining Gregory’s response.

  “If we could get rid of Warwick, and the others, too, if they follow him, we’d both be free. You could live your life, and I could live mine.” A small smile graced his lips. “Perhaps in time, we’d even become friends.”

  “How does Adelaide change anything? I spoke to her, and she said she’s not getting involved,” January said, deciding to share that much.

  Emerson nodded, like it was no big deal. “All the same, it’s another piece on the board. She’s clearly fond of you.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far,” January said, thinking of the frustrating conversation she’d had earlier that day.

  “I was going to propose this anyway, one day. That’s why I’ve tried to teach you things. It’s why I wanted you to know, I’m going to be your friend.”

  January smirked. “And there was me thinking you were doing it out of the goodness of your heart.”

  Emerson ignored her dig. “With Adelaide around, we can make a move sooner. It’s clear now that she decided not to come back for a reason. Warwick no longer holds her in a thrall. Perhaps she even sees him for the tyrant he is. I need some time to work it all out, but if we can shock him, we might just be able to end him.”

  “Then you’ll let everyone working for you go free, and The Clan will no longer manipulate the course of the world?” January asked, unbelieving.

  “That’s exactly what I want,” Emerson assured her.

  January sighed. “Here’s my problem. You’re saying this now to get me to join your side. You’ve been nice to me - sort of - for the same reason. Perhaps you do want Warwick out of the way, or perhaps you want to be given an excuse to get rid of me in a permanent manner.” Emerson opened his mouth to protest, but January held up a hand. “I think you really may want Warwick gone, but I think there’s a more than fair chance I’d be replacing one tyrant with another. There’s nothing you can say to prove otherwise, so don’t try.”

  Emerson nodded. “I suppose this may have to wait longer than I’d thought. You’re not planning to kill us all anytime soon, are you?”

  January sighed at his mocking tone. “Not for the next few weeks, at least.”

  Emerson smiled, like it was all some great joke. To him, it might be, but to January it was a very real goal that she knew she’d just taken another tiny step towards achieving, by breaking into this room today. If she could do it once… she could probably do it again, right?

  “Is there anything else good in that book?” she asked.

  Emerson shook his head. “That’s all there is, apart from a few vague theories about the possibility of an enchanter ever existing and where they might draw their vast power from.” He looked carefully at January. “Did Adelaide share her thoughts with you on that topic?”

  January kept her face blank, but Emerson seemed to know all the same.

  “Fine, good to know. That’s it. I’d turn the pages to show you, but I can’t affect anything in the physical realm like this.” He looked sideways at January.

  She shrugged at him.

  Emerson shook his head once more. “Honestly, it’s like talking to a child.”

  January gritted her teeth. He was the one playing games. Her own aims were transparent. “You haven’t done anything to show you can be trusted. Everything you’ve done could be for your own ends. You won’t even help me track down Joe Milan!”

  “You’re more than capable of doing it yourself now,” Emerson surmised.

  “What about the hidden dangers?” January sniped.

  “You still need to be careful. Look how easy it was for me to find you, and in this form, you’re a lot more vulnerable.”

  “Is that a threat?” January asked, suddenly wondering if she’d been right to worry that when out of her body, she could be killed.

  “No!” Emerson said, miming pulling his hair out. “I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. Is there something I can help you with that might convince you that I want us to be in this together?”

  January opened her mouth to say no, but then shut it again. Perhaps there was something he could help her with, and it wasn’t as if she was promising him anything in return, right?

  “I’m trying to find out who murdered my parents. They were in Paris and someone killed them in a strange way. It was as though they…”

  “…ran out of oxygen? The death was ruled as suffocation?” Emerson finished.

  January’s gaze turned hard. “How do you know?”

  “Because I watched Warwick take all of the oxygen out of that room. If it makes it any better, they would have never known what was happening. You don’t struggle to breath when there’s no oxygen left. There’s still air, you see. You just keep on breathing like normal and then go to sleep and never wake up. It’s painless.”

  “It’s still murder,” January said. She narrowed her eyes at Emerson. “It’s also awfully convenient that Warwick was the one who killed my parents, and you just happened to see the person you want to get rid of doing it.”

  Emerson shrugged. “I don’t know… it would have been convenient if I thought it could be used to manipulate you in some way, but I happen to know your feelings towards your parents were none too friendly. In fact, didn’t you threaten to kill them yourself a short while ago?” He waved a hand as if it didn’t matter anymore. “What might be more interesting, is if you asked me why he killed them.”

  “I’m guessing it wasn’t as a peace offering to me,” January said, dryly.

  Emerson looked at her expectantly until January gave in.

  “Fine. Why did Warwick deign to put in a personal appearance, just to bump off my parents?”

  “He wanted to see if there was anything magical about them. He thought that by causing them stress - unknown to them, of course - any spark of magic would jump to life. He had a theory that there has to be magic already present in the family for someone to be born an enchanter. It’s far more believable that a spark could grow into an inferno, than an inferno appear when before there was nothing.”

  “They had no magic. He could have saved himself the effort and asked me,” January said, feeling bitter. She’d already sworn to kill Warwick and the other members of The Clan. Getting angry about this was hardly going to change anything.

  “Did he conclude anything from his little experiment?” she asked.

  Emerson shook his head. “No. He was just as mystified as before. The only time he’s thought there might have been a breakthrough was when you did such strange things in the arena. Not only did you defeat all of the challenges, when everyone before hasn’t even lived past the first few, you also brought in an army from another world. And then you somehow managed to deflect a spell that would turn almost anyone into a splatter of atoms on the wall!”

  “You know how the army came through,” she said, referring to Adelaide’s presence.

  “I have worked that much out,” Emerson acknowledged. “But you still stopped that spell. One of th
e most destructive spells in high magick.”

  “I don’t know how that happened, either,” January said.

  “I think you’re just more powerful than all of us, and when you learn to wield that power…” Emerson smiled and tilted his head to the side.

  “I think there’s half a chance that if Warwick had been allowed to wipe you off the map after what had happened in the arena, you might just have done something incredible and won the fight.”

  “Too bad some selfless soul sent me through the sewer to avoid such a confrontation,” January said.

  “I only said half a chance, and perhaps that’s too generous. You might have just ended up a smear on the ground,” he told her.

  “Thanks for the visual.”

  “You’re welcome,” Emerson replied, his usual smile evident. “Do you think you can put the book back on the shelf?”

  January looked at it and thought about the missing wall of the house back home and the structural stability, which was probably a little tenuous. She shook her head.

  “Finding out about some of those hidden dangers, are we?” Emerson smiled at a memory.

  “Let’s just say I have a lot of tidying up to do when I get back home,” she said.

  They stood in silence for a moment, both trying to see something that wasn’t visible to the naked eye. January had alarm bells going off in her head that all warned her not to trust this ancient vampire. Loyalty forged over millennia could surely not be trumped by an acquaintance of a few weeks. Although, she supposed it was really a few years, if you counted the time he’d watched her for.

  “Hey, Emerson… How was it that you came to be watching Warwick when he killed my parents?” she asked.

  “I was with him that night. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.”

  “You helped to kill my parents?” she pressed, thinking she was now getting somewhere closer to the truth.

  “Of course not. Warwick’s the one who likes to do all that stuff.”

  “You just like to push your pieces around the board,” January completed. “You didn’t find anything, did you?” she asked, just wanting to confirm it, once and for all.