The two other vampires drew back their fangs and looked at Tan Du for guidance. The beast bared all his teeth at Kandler in a vicious smile. “Of course,” he said, “but we have you by a different set of hairs.”
Tan Du raised his right hand high in the air. A voice rang out of the pitch-black night.
“Kandler!” It was Esprë. The voice was faint, distant, but there was no mistaking it. “I’m all right!”
The justicar left Deothen’s sword and stepped toward the vampire, his heart in his throat. “Bring her to me,” he said, struggling to keep the desperation from his voice. “Now.”
It was Tan Du’s turn to laugh. It was the worst sound Kandler had ever heard. No death rattle seemed as dark and final. “I thought I told you to leave us alone,” the vampire said.
“I haven’t done a thing to you,” Kandler said, trying to keep the shaking from his voice. “Yet.”
“Let me explain in terms even you could understand,” Tan Du said. “Go back to your little crater-town. Now. And never come out.”
“Or what?” Kandler hated to ask the question—he knew what the answer would be—but he needed more time.
“Or we’ll kill your little girl.”
Kandler reached back and pulled Deothen’s sword from the ground. The knights all held their breath to see what the vampires would do. The two holding Brendis and Levritt squeezed their charges harder, and the youngest knight let out an involuntarily whimper.
“I’m going to kill you either way,” Kandler said, steeling his heart to the fate of the knights. They might very well die here, but he was willing to risk that to get Esprë back. He knew that if she truly did bear the Mark of Death, then Deothen would be willing to do the same thing. Despite that, he never looked to the senior knight for approval. Instead, he held up the knight’s sword before him.
“Do you have any idea what’s at stake here?” Tan Du hissed as he fell back before the silvery flames.
Kandler strode toward the vampire, keeping the sword between them. “The only thing about to be on a stake is your heart.”
Snarling, Tan Du locked his gaze into Kandler’s eyes. The justicar felt the vampire trying to bash his way into his mind. When the psion had tried this stunt, it had felt like a worm trying to burrow into Kandler’s skull. This was more like a battering ram trying to smash a gate.
The justicar felt nauseous for a moment, as if he were reeling, but he continued toward the vampire. As he walked, he drew upon all the fury he felt over Esprë’s kidnapping to shove the rough probing aside. “That might work on little girls,” he growled at the vampire, “but you’re playing with grown-ups now.”
Tan Du backed down before Kandler’s advance, his attention focused entirely on the justicar. He didn’t notice Deothen charge up behind him.
“Master!” the vampire holding Levritt cried out.
Kandler cursed. He’d been taking a calculated risk, but Deothen hadn’t been part of the plan. Until now, he thought he’d had the situation under control, but in an instant it spun out of his grasp.
Tan Du turned, but he was too late. Deothen rammed into him, wrapped his arms around the creature’s middle, and slammed him to the ground.
The vampire holding Brendis sank his fangs into the young man’s neck. Brendis screamed, his knees gave out, and he would have fallen if the vampire had not held him in a tight embrace.
Kandler started toward Brendis, but before he could reach the knight, a bolt appeared out of the darkness and pierced the feeding vampire’s heart through its back. The creature fell over on top of Brendis, dead before it hit the ground. The young knight screamed in terror and scrambled to pull himself out from under the vampire’s body.
The vampire holding Levritt tossed the knight before him to one side. Kandler dashed forward and caught the boy in his arms, dropping the swords in his hands as the creature dashed over to help his fallen compatriot. Before Kandler could even see if Levritt was all right, Sallah sprinted past them, aiming a terrible blow at the neck of the vampire about to tear Brendis apart.
Deothen bore all his weight into Tan Du. “You are all dead!” the vampire hissed as the pair hit the ground. “I’ll feast on your hearts!”
Kandler was sure the vampire was right. Even if they succeeded, what might happen to Esprë? Inwardly, he cursed the Silver Flame and all who followed it. Convinced Levritt was fine, he let the young knight slip to his knees, and he scrambled for his saddlebags.
His hands were shaking, and he had trouble untying the knot. As it finally gave, he heard Deothen chant a prayer to the Silver Flame. Kandler turned to look. The elder knight slapped his hands over the vampire’s eyes. Light stabbed forth from between the knight’s fingers, and Tan Du howled in pain.
The vampire shrugged Deothen off with his superhuman strength. “What have you done?” Tan Du said, his face glowing like the sun. “I can’t see!”
As Kandler dug around in his saddlebag, he watched Sallah thrust her sword into the side of the vampire attacking Brendis. The monster screeched in pain as the burning blade pierced its flesh. It stood, wrenching the blade it was impaled upon from the lady knight’s grasp.
“You’ll pay for that, you bitch!” the vampire snarled. He started toward the unarmed Sallah, her sword still protruding from the side of his chest. Before he got two steps, another bolt emerged from the darkness and impaled the vampire’s heart.
Kandler’s hands closed on a set of wooden stakes in his saddlebags. He knew his blade was useless against vampires, so he had packed these as well. “Catch!” Kandler shouted as he tossed one of the stakes to Deothen. The old knight snatched the length of wood out of the air and stalked after Tan Du.
Deothen drew the stake over his head with both hands and stabbed down at the vampire leader’s heart. The wooden point blunted on the thick armor plate and twisted wide of its mark, plunging into the vampire’s side instead.
Tan Du bellowed in rage and pain. He lashed out in blind anger and smashed the old knight in the chest, sending him sprawling across the half-dead grass.
Kandler hefted the other stake in his right hand and sprinted off, circling to Tan Du’s right. As he did, the vampire turned, always keeping Kandler to his front.
“I can hear you stomping around like a bull, coward,” Tan Du said. He pulled his hands from his face. The light poured from his eyes as if he was lit from within.
“I haven’t lived for over a hundred years by being foolish,” the vampire cackled. “Besides, I don’t want to kill you until you find your daughter’s body torn into bite-sized pieces.”
The very thought spurred Kandler to desperate action. He knew he only had once chance here, and he had to take it no matter what might happen to him. He dove at Tan Du in a last-ditch effort, the stake held before him.
The vampire seemed to fade, the darkness bleeding into him, and he melted into mist. Kandler hit the ground hard, wrenching his shoulder. The justicar howled, the stake still in his hands. “Come back!” he said to the air. He got up and spun around, swinging the stake back and forth wildly. “Come back and fight! Give my daughter back!”
The mist hung in the air over Kandler for a moment, then faded into the blackness. The justicar went back on his knees and screamed. He pounded his fists against the ground until Deothen came over and patted him on the back.
Kandler stood and glared at the knight, but he bit back the venom he wanted to spit at him. Instead, he turned and strode over to where the other knights had set the bodies of the downed vampires next to one another.
Esprë was somewhere out there in the darkness, Kandler knew, but she might as well have been a thousand miles away. He’d never find her, not until the dawn. But right here in front of him there was something he could do.
Kandler picked up his own sword from where it lay and decapitated the corpses with two clean, savage cuts. Then he hacked the rest of them to pieces.
While Kandler chopped away at the bodies, Burch stole up beside him. The shi
fter put a hand on Kandler’s sword arm, and the justicar stopped, his chest heaving from his efforts.
“Couldn’t find her, boss,” Burch said. “Too dark, and even I can’t track mist.”
Kandler nodded at his old friend as he put an arm around him and drew him into a sidelong embrace. He hoped Burch wouldn’t realize he was shaking not with rage but fear.
A chill had settled over the Mournland as the sky grew darker, and the changeling feared the girl might catch a cold. Te’oma had not packed a bag for Esprë before leaving Kandler’s house. There hadn’t been time, and the girl had only what she wore on her back.
Esprë had slept throughout most of the journey into the Mournland. Tan Du’s control over the girl’s mind had kept her in half a stupor during the few times she’d awakened. It kept her from screaming and drawing Kandler and the knights to them—or any of the other monsters that stalked this forsaken place.
The girl was awake now though. Tan Du needed her to speak to punctuate the statement he planned to deliver to the justicar and his friends. “Keep her quiet until then,” the vampire had ordered.
Te’oma had watched the vampires fade into mist then picked up her everbright lantern and raised its front shield just enough to show her the way to where the girl lay on the ground. The changeling knelt down and roused Esprë by stroking her long, blonde hair. The girl woke as if from a pleasant dream she didn’t want to leave behind.
“Mommy!” Esprë said as her mind wandered back to her. The word sent strange flutters through the changeling’s heart.
Te’oma, in the guise of the girl’s elf aunt again, clapped a hand over Esprë’s mouth and shushed her. “You must be quiet, sweetheart, or we are all doomed.”
Esprë’s eyes widened. In the light escaping from the lantern, the whites showed all the way around. “Aunt Arnaya?” she said, but the hand over her mouth muffled the rest of her words.
“Yes,” Te’oma whispered. “I’m here. You’re safe.” She glanced into the darkness. “And we’ll stay that way as long as we keep quiet.”
The girl nodded and reached up to pull Te’oma’s hand away. The changeling clamped down harder. “I can let you speak,” she said to the girl, “but only if you swear to keep it to a whisper.”
Esprë nodded seriously, and Te’oma removed her hand. “What’s happening?” she asked in whisper so soft that Te’oma had to strain to hear her.
“We’re in the Mournland,” Te’oma said. Esprë drew in a deep breath for a scream, but the changeling clamped down on her mouth again before she could let loose.
“Esprë!” Te’oma said. “This is a matter of life and death. You must be quiet.”
The girl’s eyes widened even more. After a while, she nodded, and Te’oma removed her hand again.
“Why are we here?” the girl asked in a small voice.
Te’oma reached out and felt Esprë’s soft, round cheek as she searched for the words that would comfort the girl. “These are desperate times.”
“How did we get here?” Esprë asked as she took Te’oma’s hand. “The last thing I remember is …” The girl shuddered and fell silent.
“Yes.” Te’oma nodded. “We are prisoners of those creatures now.”
Esprë sat up and glanced around. “Where are they now?”
Te’oma grimaced and wished the girl would just sit quiet and stop asking so many questions. Why couldn’t she just enjoy the illusion of an aunt and niece sitting together in the dark?
“They’ve gone off to speak with your stepfather.”
“Kandler!” Esprë’s voice started to rise, but she clamped down on it before she finished the word. “Where is he?”
Te’oma stood up and pulled the girl to her feet. Just on the edge of adulthood, Esprë was barely a head shorter than the changeling. Her piercing blue eyes scanned the darkness for any break in the black.
“There,” Te’oma said, pointing behind the girl.
Esprë turned and saw three rods of silvery light in a valley below, dancing together in the darkness. Shadowy shapes moved through and around them.
“There,” Te’oma said again. “Do you see the figure closest to us? That’s Tan Du, the leader of the vampires.”
“Is he terribly dangerous?”
“He likes to think he is.”
“Will he kill us?”
Te’oma frowned. “Let’s hope not.” She put an arm around Esprë’s shoulders and drew her close. It felt good to comfort the girl, even if she knew she was leading her like a lamb to the slaughter. The two watched the scene in the valley below.
“What’s going on?” Esprë asked.
“Tan Du is trying to make a deal for your life.”
“What about you?”
Te’oma said nothing. The girl actually cared for her, and for a moment words left her.
“What about you, Aunt Arnaya?” Esprë looked up at the changeling.
Te’oma let a wistful smile spread across her lips. “Your stepfather doesn’t know me, dear,” she said.
Esprë looked back out at the scene below and leaned into the changeling. “Don’t worry Aunt Arnaya,” she said. “Kandler won’t let you down.”
“Ah,” Te’oma said. “Here comes your cue. Tan Du needs to prove you’re still alive. He’s raised his hand to signal us. When he brings it down, call out to your stepfather.”
Esprë squinted at the figures near the flickering silver lights. When she saw the figure’s arm fall, she looked to Te’oma, who nodded at her. “Kandler!” the girl said at the top of her lungs. “I’m all right!”
The shout echoed off the walls of the valley, and the words bounced back and forth until they died.
Te’oma pulled the girl closer. “Well done,” she said to Esprë. “Now keep quiet again.”
The girl pressed her lips tight, but it wasn’t long before she opened them again. “Shouldn’t we try to escape?” she asked.
“Where would we go?” Te’oma asked. Inwardly, she smiled at the girl’s spirit. She was a fighter, this one. “In this horrible place, we’re safer with the vampires than we would be without them. They, at least, have some reason for wanting us alive.”
“What’s that?” Esprë asked.
Te’oma did not answer. As the two watched, a fight erupted in the valley. They could not make out most of the details, but they heard the screams of pain and anguish as they rang throughout the valley.
“We could go now, Aunt Arnaya,” Esprë said. “We could ride straight down there and help.”
Te’oma shook her head. “It’s too dangerous,” she said. “We could get killed. We’ll wait here until we know who’s won.”
Esprë started to protest, but Te’oma cut her off. “I didn’t come all the way here just to lose you again.”
Te’oma held the girl close as they watched the fight below. It was over in a matter of minutes.
“What happened?” Esprë asked. “I can’t tell.”
“Patience,” Te’oma said. “We’ll find out in good time.”
As the words left her mouth, Kandler’s voice rang out. “Come back! Come back and fight! Give my daughter back!”
Esprë sprang out of Te’oma’s arms and started down the hill toward the voice. Before she got three steps, Te’oma tackled her to the ground. The changeling fell on top of the girl and wrapped her hand over her mouth to stop a scream.
“Quiet!” Te’oma whispered in the girl’s ear. “Be quiet, or you’re dead.”
The changeling cursed her luck, the mighty Vol, and most of all Tan Du. The vampire was the purported leader of this mission, but his arrogance had consistently cost them lives. Now, she knew, it had robbed her of the girl’s trust.
Once Esprë got her breath back, Te’oma removed her hand.
“You’re not my aunt, are you?” Esprë whispered.
“What makes you say that?”
“She would want me to live.”
Te’oma growled in frustration as she resumed her natural form.
She grabbed Esprë and turned the girl around to face her. “You’re a clever girl,” she said, “but that doesn’t change a thing. I’m still the only friend you have here.”
Esprë stared at Te’oma, taking her all in. “How do you figure that?”
Te’oma stood up and dragged Esprë to her feet. “I want you alive, which is more than I can say for Tan Du. If he had his way, we’d just tote your body along with us.”
“I may still have that chance,” Tan Du said as he materialized from the darkness, his face still glowing with light.
Esprë screamed in shock and fear.
The vampire strode forward blind and smacked the girl across the face. She fell to the ground, bleeding from her cheek. He licked his fangs as he stood over her, his eyes shut tight against the light still flowing from his face.
“Get her up and on your horse, changeling,” Tan Du said. “If she utters another word, I’ll tear out her throat—and yours, too.” He turned to mist again and hovered near the horse to wait.
Te’oma scooped Esprë from the ground, placed her on the front of her saddle, then slipped in behind the girl and spurred the gelding forward. “Don’t worry,” she whispered into the girl’s ear as they took off at a gallop. “I’ll keep you safe.” She surprised herself with how much she meant it.
The scream pierced the night like a banshee’s cry, freezing Kandler’s heart. For a moment, he wasn’t sure the noise hadn’t come from one of those fearsome spirits, then he recognized the voice.
“Esprë!” he said. “Burch, we have to try!”
The shifter nodded. “I’m on it,” he said. As he spoke, his voice turned from its regular low rasp to a bestial growl.
Burch flexed his wiry frame about as he howled at the moonless sky. His wide, yellow eyes seemed to glow in the silvery light of the knights’ swords. Levritt drew back as the shifter snarled at them and bared his pointed teeth. Burch’s head snapped around from left to right, and he trotted off in the direction in which the vampire had vanished.
Marked for Death: The Lost Mark, Book 1 Page 14