by E. A. Copen
Ike said nothing, choosing instead to stare Ash down.
“Control your men,” Ash eventually said, stepping back. “Or send them home. We’re still less than a day’s ride from Atlanta.” He stormed away, leaving Ike stewing.
Kenny rubbed the back of his head. “Sorry, boss.”
Dex shook his head. “Just move your damn tent lines, you idiot. And next time you’ve got a problem with someone, bring it to me, okay?”
Foggy grunted. “That’s right. Run to your master.”
Kenny moved as if to charge the dwarf, but Dex held him back with a hand on his chest.
“That’s what I thought.” Foggy spat on the ground between them. “Forget about moving your tent lines, dytheirn. I’d rather be upwind of ye, anyway.” He began collecting his tent spikes.
“Feel free to step in anytime,” Dex gestured to Ike.
“Gladly.” Ike pulled up a tent spike and quickly helped Foggy move his tent closer to the Iron Company side of the camp.
I sighed and trudged back to my tent. If this was how things were going to go, it was going to be a long march to Black Mountain.
For the rest of the evening, I kept to myself, arranging my things and setting up a self-sustaining camp with my own little cook fire. Dex and his Marauders did the same while Ike and his people put up a whole kitchen tent at the edge of camp. Ash and his people built a large fire and put a big iron pot over it. They left the path clear for anyone who dared come to investigate, an open invitation that no one took them up on. We all sat in our respective camps, separated by pathways that wound between tent poles.
It was full dark when the music started.
I looked up from my crackling fire, a renewed lance of worry in my heart. The music was clearly coming from the Marauder’s side of the camp. It was late enough that someone from the Iron Company side was sure to object to it interrupting their sleep. I stood and made my way over, expecting a fight.
Kenny had propped himself up against a tree, strumming an old guitar and humming a slow tune.
“Do you really think that’s a good idea?” I asked.
He shrugged. “And why not? Who doesn’t like a little after dinner music?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but before I could, Foggy stomped to a stop beside me.
“What in the bloody kingdoms is that awful tune?” Foggy ground out.
Kenny kept strumming. “What? They don’t have music where you come from, dwarf?”
“Aye, they do, but whatever you’re playin’ sounds like a dying cat.”
“You want something more lively, is that it?” Kenny finally stopped playing long enough to shift his posture and his hold on the instrument. “I don’t take requests.”
The tension in the air was palatable as Ike approached the camp and Dex ducked out of his tent, both men frozen as they waited to see what Kenny and Foggy would do next. Foggy glanced at Ike behind him, at me, and then lifted the leather sack he’d brought with him. He ripped the bag away to reveal another stringed instrument, this one longer and bearing only two strings. From the back of the instrument’s long neck, he lifted a bow that he worked gently back and forth over the strings.
The sound the instrument made was unlike anything I had ever heard, deep and layered. He played a few quick notes before Kenny started tapping his foot, nodded, and echoed the notes when Foggy paused, adding a few of his own. Foggy echoed the added notes. Back and forth they went, speeding up with every trade of notes until they were both playing at the same time. They fell into a harmony of impromptu music, as if they had somehow known the song before either of them started playing. When their tune ended, the crowd that had gathered erupted into applause.
Foggy grinned, unhooked a flask from his side and tossed it to Kenny. “You can play almost as well as you can run your mouth, dytheirn.”
“Thanks. You’re not half bad yourself.” Kenny unscrewed the lid, took a drink, and immediately coughed, shooting the dwarven drink out of his nose.
Foggy let out a roar of laughter and slapped his knee. “Dwarven ale. Burns just as much coming up as it does going down.”
“No kidding.” Kenny wheezed and handed the flask back.
Still laughing, Foggy raised the flask and declared loudly, “A toast!”
“To what?” Kenny asked.
“Drink! What else?” The dwarf upended the flask and emptied it into his mouth, gargling it loudly before swallowing.
The crowd cheered and more bottles appeared, passed from person to person without regard for which camp he was with. Foggy and Kenny turned back to playing, working their way through several familiar tavern tunes about drinking, barflies, and the like. Whatever barriers there had been before disappeared, wiped away by drink and song.
A bottle came to me, and I passed it on without partaking, but only because I wasn’t sure what was in it. As I handed it to the next person, I felt eyes burning on the back of my neck. I turned around and found Zia glaring at me from Ash’s camp. Ash stood near her, but closer to the crowd, the shadow of a smile on his face. Zia, however, wore a scowl.
I took a step toward them, but Zia broke and stomped back to her tent. Guess she didn’t feel like talking.
“It looks like they finally found some common ground,” I said to Ash when I was next to him.
His dark eyes moved over the crowd. “As long as they don’t get so drunk they slow us down. I made sure both Ike and Dex understood they were to work out a watch and patrol schedule, one with sober patrols.”
I nodded. Last thing we needed was for some monster to wander into our camp while everyone was passed out drunk or hungover. “Better here than a few days down the road, though, right?”
Ash shrugged. “I suppose it’s relatively safe here, but Zia is about to do some scouting for me, just in case.”
“You mean Zia’s vampires.” I hugged myself. “She’s letting them off their leashes.”
“There’s no reason to fear them, Ember. Zia has complete control.”
“If you say so.” I rubbed my arms to warm myself just the same. The idea of vampires running freely through the surrounding forest was hardly comforting. I decided it would be best to change the subject. “Hey, Ash. Can I ask you something about this hunt?”
“Anything,” he said, turning to face me.
“Why do you want this dragon’s heart?”
The emotion drained from his face, turning his expression to stone. Ash pressed his lips together and turned to watch the revelry unfolding in the camp beyond. “Certain organs have magical properties, uses in spells and potions. It’s not strictly illegal to part out dragons, or any other monster, but it is frowned upon, which is why I couldn’t put this through the guilds.”
“Yes, but what sort of potion do you need a dragon’s heart for? Must be something rare and powerful.”
“I didn’t realize you were an expert in potions,” he said, turning to me.
I bit my tongue. He was right. Most people didn’t know the first thing about potions and tinctures. I’d only had to learn what I knew out of necessity. Unscrupulous alchemists sometimes tried to cheat me out of a proper dose of antigen. I needed to know what I was buying was pure, and that meant learning a certain amount about the product.
I couldn’t reveal all of that to Ash, though. I couldn’t risk telling him the truth. He wouldn’t understand.
I shrugged. “You learn a thing or two when you do this on your own.”
“I know it will fetch a good price, enough to help me finance what we talked about before.”
I lifted an eyebrow. “Founding your own kingdom? You were serious?”
“Why not? Even if I fail, it’s better to have tried, isn’t it? That’s what Old Jim used to say.”
“True.” I could almost hear him saying it from beyond the grave. “I suppose Ike wouldn’t have understood that, would he?”
Ash snorted. “He’s the least likely to understand any of my motivations. Don’t forget, Ember. It was
Ike’s grandfather that erased my dad’s name from the registry, leaving me with nothing.”
He had a good point there. Usually, if someone in a guild died on a mission, their families were taken care of financially. There were whole pools of cash inside guilds set aside to look after the orphaned children of their members, or their widows. It was one of the core benefits of belonging to a guild. You could go off and hunt dangerous monsters and never have to worry that your family wouldn’t be taken care of if something happened to you.
Unless you screwed up a job so badly, they kicked you out posthumously. Then the family got nothing.
I didn’t know the specifics of what Ash’s father had done to earn the boot from the Iron Company, and I didn’t want to upset him by asking. When we were younger, Ash had insisted that the whole thing was a cover up and they had made his dad take the fall for someone higher in the guild. His father had become a scapegoat, and Ash wound up on the street because of it. The story was a painful one for Ash, so I never brought it up.
“Yeah, but that was his grandfather,” I pointed out. “Ike isn’t much older than us. He would’ve been a kid when that happened. You can’t blame him for something his grandfather did.”
“That’s the only reason he’s on this hunt, Ember. That and you know what they say about keeping your enemies close.”
I gave Ash a gentle punch in the arm. “Ike’s not your enemy. He’s just a guy.”
“We’ll see about all that.” Ash rubbed his arm, frowning. He turned and took a step back toward his tent.
I followed. “Where are you going?”
“To Zia’s tent.”
“Oh really? I turn you down and you’ve already got someone else lined up. That was fast.”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s not like that. Don’t pretend to be jealous, Ember. It doesn’t look good on you. No, someone has to watch her body while she’s riding the vampires and looking through their eyes. When she works her magic, it essentially leaves her vulnerable. I agreed to watch over her. You’re welcome to join me.” He paused on his trek back to the tents.
I cast a longing glance back at the party going on in the rest of camp. Drinking, singing, and dancing sounded a lot more interesting than watching a necromancer space out, but I wanted to spend time with Ash. We still needed to catch up, make up for lost time. Besides, I didn’t trust Zia and her vampires any more than Ash trusted Ike. Maybe it was time for me to follow my advice and try to get to know her before making judgements.
“Come,” Ash urged. “I’m sure Zia won’t mind.”
“If you say so,” I muttered and followed him to the smallest of the two tents at the far end of camp.
Ash opened the flap of a black tent bearing the same crimson dragon symbol Zia wore as a pin. I ducked into a well-lit tent with several glowing light crystals placed on the roof. Thick chains held a pair of vampires to the center pole. Zia knelt in front of them, rubbing sunscreen on their cheeks.
“You’re late. How am I supposed to do my job if you can’t even be bothered to stay on schedule?” Zia’s smile faded when she turned around and found me standing there instead of Ash. Her shoulders slumped. “You’re not Ash. What do you want?”
“I invited her to come and observe,” Ash said after ducking in the entrance.
“Well, I don’t know why. I’m scouting, not putting on a show.” She brought out another light crystal, cracked it, shook it, and placed it on the ground behind the vampires. Her movements were sharp and jerky.
“I’ve never seen a necromancer work,” I offered. “Not up close, anyway.”
“There’s a good reason for that. The work requires intense concentration. One distraction and I might miss something important.” She dragged an elaborate chair to the center space behind the pole, right behind the light crystal.
“You mean you’ll lose control of the vampires?”
She stopped moving the chair long enough to glare at me. “Please. I am a captain in the Order of the Crimson Dragon. Don’t insult me.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, looking to Ash. “I don’t know what that means.”
He opened his mouth to answer, but she spoke for him. “It means I’m very good at what I do. I don’t lose control of my vampires.”
While she grunted, fighting to get the chair in the perfect position, Ash leaned in and explained, “The Order is a very exclusive part of the Institute, a sort of elite group within the Institute. Their training focuses on covert operations with a militaristic background. Not only are her vampires powerful weapons, but Zia herself is an expertly trained combatant.”
“I’m fully bonded to my vampires.” She stood, dusting off her hands before gesturing to the creatures before her. “Observe.”
Zia raised two fingers on her right hand and both vampires mimicked the same expression.
“So, they’re like puppets,” I said.
“Puppets don’t feel,” Zia corrected. “They don’t eat, or sleep, or shit. Nobody has to clean up after their puppets or rub sunscreen on them to keep them from getting burned by residual sun rays bouncing off the moon. My vampires are both living creatures and an extension of my will.”
I shrugged. “You sound very proud of them.”
She gave a small, disdainful grunt. “People like you will never appreciate the power of a vampire. Not until you need one.”
“That’s enough, Zia. Ember doesn’t mean you any harm. She’s here to learn, just as I had to.”
“Learn, you say?” A smirk crossed Zia’s painted lips as she sank into her chair, treating it like a throne. “Then let’s begin your first lesson. Unchain the vampires, if you would?”
“Unchain them?” I glanced at Ash and then back to Zia. “But they’re your vampires. Shouldn’t you do it?”
Zia sat up straighter in her chair. “The first and most important lesson for co-existing with vampires is not to fear them. You must conquer your fear, or it will conquer you. There are no other outcomes in this battle. Unchain the vampires, Ember.”
Ash nodded.
I trusted him, didn’t I? He wouldn’t encourage me to do something that would cost me my life. Even being in the same tent as a vampire was dangerous, though. Their condition was highly contagious, and one hundred percent fatal. One drop of infected blood or saliva and I would become one of the undead.
I swallowed and approached the first vampire. A low, gurgling sound escaped the creature’s throat as it watched me with dead, cloudy eyes. Why were they white like a dead man’s eyes? I could’ve sworn they were blood red when I saw them in the tavern. Maybe I’d been imagining things.
My hand shook as I reached for the clasp at the vampire’s collar.
Zia’s smirk widened.
A tiny drop of red appeared in the center of the vampire’s dead white eyes, spreading like blood in water until the vampire’s eyes were pure crimson.
I hurried to unhook the vampire and stumbled back a step.
The creature stood up on its emaciated legs, sniffed the air, and grinned at me. It opened its mouth “See?” It said with a distorted version of Zia’s voice without ever moving its lips. “That wasn’t so hard, was it? Now, free the other.”
I looked to Zia, seated in her chair. A silver sheen had passed over her eyes. Though I was sure it was her who had been speaking, she didn’t move her mouth.
The first vampire watched closely as I freed the other. Then, without a word, the vampires scurried to the tent door and out into the night.
I shuddered and hugged myself tight, moving closer to Ash just to feel the warmth of something living. “Now what?”
Ash put an arm around me. “Now, we wait. If Zia sees anything through her vampires’ eyes, she’ll let us know.”
I watched the silver eyed necromancer work, her fingers curling into the wooden arm rests of her seat. “What happens to her if something happens to her vampires? Does she feel it? Can she hear and see us when she’s in their heads?”
“No,” Ash
said, shaking his head. “Her body may be here, but the rest of her is out there, with them. That’s why I agreed to watch over her. If something happens, she feels it as if it were happening to her. And if a vampire dies while she’s inside its head… They call it whiplash. Sometimes, it’s fatal. Sometimes, their brains break and they never recover. Comas, aneurysms, stroke… All are possible. It’s why they’re trained to sever that connection in an instant if needed. But doing so a moment sooner could leave the vampire free, and that’s equally dangerous.”
I suddenly felt a pang of sorrow. “It must be scary, climbing into a monster’s head and leaving your own body behind.”
“It requires trust in whomever you choose to be your guard. We’ve become very close, Zia and I, since my return. I think she’s worried you’ll distract me, keep me from fulfilling my promise to protect her.”
I think it’s more than that, I thought, watching her. Zia wouldn’t have tried so hard to warn me off if that was all there was to it. She wanted Ash in the same way he wanted to be with me, and he was too blind to see it.
I smiled. “She obviously doesn’t know you as well as she thinks. The Ash I know would never break a promise. You’ll keep her safe, no matter what. She should trust you more.” I stepped away from Ash, moving to the door.
“Where are you going? I thought you wanted to see how it worked?”
“I think I’ve seen enough for one night. You’ve got this handled. We’ll catch up in the morning.”
He nodded. “Okay. Goodnight, Ember.”
“Goodnight, Ash.” I walked out of the tent, still hugging myself, a new pain growing in my chest next to my heart. Ash needed to move on, but he would not do that as long as I was hanging around. This job had to be the only one we did together, for both of our sakes.
I felt eyes on me from above and glanced up into the boughs of a nearby tree. Blood-red eyes blinked back. Zia, through her vampire, watched me for a long moment before the vampire turned and leapt deeper into the forest.
Chapter Nine