by Stead, Nick
“I wasn’t saying we should do that either,” Gwyn said. “You just risked your life to save me from a potentially endless torment. If any of us is staying on this beach, it’s going to be me.”
Zee snorted. “What are you going to do, talk them to death? If none of us can defeat an Elder in battle, you most certainly can’t.”
Gwyn took a deep breath and tilted his head upwards. “As flesh and blood, no. But as a spirit? There’s a reason humans invented the lightbulb.”
“But you’re not currently a spirit,” I said. “We only just got you back, and now you want us to leave you again?”
“Look up,” he answered. Full of doubt, I raised my eyes to the night sky and saw clouds drifting across the waning moon. My gaze returned to Earth and the advancing danger, but when I looked back at the knocker, something about him had changed.
Zee frowned. “Even if those clouds are going to give you enough darkness to become a spirit again, this is an Elder vampire you’re facing. Lady Sarah was right, there’s more chance of a fellow vampire surviving the encounter. It has to be me.”
“My kind roamed the darkness long before the first vampire rose from the dead. We lurked beneath the earth before even the first human rose up onto two legs. I’d rather not be involved in this dumb infighting where all we’re really achieving is doing the Slayers’ job for them, but if Ulfarr wants a fight then so be it. I have nothing to fear from him. He might be an Elder, but I am ancient.”
It was hard to tell with the natural light all but obscured by the clouds, but I thought I could see a similar darkness creeping across Gwyn’s face, as if those same clouds were drifting over his features as well. It was much more subtle than any of the noticeable changes my features went through when first beginning to transform, yet there was definitely something different about him. I sensed something malevolent sliding into those roguish good looks, and all doubt faded from my mind. In his natural state, Gwyn could handle himself in a fight. And most vampires wouldn’t carry a torch.
“Let’s go,” I said.
“Varin, with Gwyn,” Selina ordered. The barghest padded over to Gwyn’s side, his red eyes blazing and his fangs bared.
We waded out to the ship and climbed on board. Back on the beach, I could see Gwyn still standing there with his back to us, presumably watching the vampires. Ulfarr was almost on him, but as I watched, his form began to dissipate. He went from being a solid humanoid figure to something less defined, like a dark cloud or a patch of mist. I still couldn’t make out exactly what shape his true spirit self took, if anything – it was entirely possible he had no discernible shape, unlike the shadow dog beside him – but in that moment he seemed every bit as impressive as the other four figures on the beach, if not more so. As an incorporeal being he was as insubstantial as the air around him, and yet there was a power to the spirit that may well be the equal to Ulfarr’s considerable might. Or perhaps it was just possible his strength might be greater than the Elder vampire’s, as he’d suggested. We were about to find out.
Ulfarr and his two underlings came to a stop just a few paces from the two spirits. If Gwyn had still been flesh and blood, I would have said he stood tall, like a brave warrior determined to give no ground to his enemies. But that’s not entirely accurate since he no longer appeared to be standing so much as he was floating, a few inches above the sand. Varin stood firm beside him, his thundering growl rolling through the very shadows he appeared to be made of, and reaching out as far as the ship the rest of us were on.
“So you continue to hide behind your friends,” Ulfarr called out to me. “How pathetic.”
He was growing smaller by the minute, Zee and Brendan pushing the ship to its limits from within the wheelhouse. Once it had been decided Gwyn would be the one to buy us the time we needed, Zee’s sense of duty had shifted from defending us to taking us far enough across the waves to be safe from Ulfarr’s wrath. I could hear the Captain through the walls, barking orders and cursing the ship’s limitations.
Rage stirred at Ulfarr’s words. Between the sound of the waves and the ship’s motor, his voice would probably be lost to human ears soon. But to my keen ears he was still loud and clear.
“Don’t give him what he wants,” Selina said, placing a soothing hand on my shoulder. I barely noticed her, my muscles tense as I leant over the side, tempted to dive in and swim back to shore. “You’d never make it to the beach – if he’s given up on a public execution, he’ll just drag you down into the deeps and leave you there to rot. Or if he does still want you alive, he’ll use the water to knock you out and take you prisoner again, which wouldn’t be much better. There’d be little we could do to save you either way.”
“Selina is right, there is nothing more you can do,” Lady Sarah agreed. “Let Gwyn handle it.”
“Do not be a coward, wolf!” Ulfarr shouted. “If you truly believe yourself to be more than a beast, then come face me like a man.”
“Vampires – you never change,” Gwyn said. He didn’t seem to be raising his voice, and yet his words were as clear as Ulfarr’s. “The slightest bit of power and you think you rule the night. I wouldn’t want to bruise that delicate ego of yours, so let me break this to you gently. You’re not the biggest bads in the universe. Hell, you’re not even the biggest bads on the planet. I get that you’re old by vampire standards, but to me you’re still children. It’s time to grow up.”
“This is not your concern, knocker.”
“You made this a matter for all undead, so I’m making it my concern. And since you don’t want to hear about how wolf boy over there is innocent of the murders he’s been accused of, there’s not much point me taking up the role of his lawyer, so I guess that leaves the role of protector instead. There aren’t many of us left in the world now. We can’t afford to be killing each other off, no matter how much you might hate his kind.”
“His kind are nothing more than savage beasts and we have suffered them to live for long enough. Stand aside or I will have no option but to kill you as well.”
Gwyn just laughed.
The figures were dwindling into mere specks, but I imagined Ulfarr’s face twisting into a furious snarl. I could just about make out the Elder raising his hand in a gesture similar to batting a fly, as if he were trying to swat Gwyn aside. But the spirit couldn’t be pushed aside so easily and he lunged forward, harrying the vampires like some kind of monstrous bird.
A horrible thought occurred to me then. “Can Ulfarr shapeshift?”
“Yes,” Lady Sarah said.
“Then what’s to stop him flying out here as a bat, once he’s got past Gwyn and Varin?”
“If we can get far enough out to sea, I do not think it will come to that. He dislikes taking the shape of animals. Being out of range of his telekinetic abilities should be enough.”
“Should be?” I growled. “Damn it, I can’t see what’s happening now.”
“Here,” Zee said, stepping out of the wheelhouse to hand me an old fashioned spyglass he’d acquired while I’d been away. I raised it to my eye to find the beach back in focus. Varin was locked in battle with one of Ulfarr’s underlings, the shadow dog twisting and snapping at his opponent while the vampire hacked and slashed with his sword, all to no avail. As I watched, the barghest reared up onto his hind legs, his jaws seeking the vampire’s throat. But the vampire threw him off, and so the battle raged on.
Ulfarr and the other vampire were similarly frustrated by Gwyn. Their blades had no effect on the spirits and even Ulfarr’s telekinesis proved to be only moderately effective. The Elder’s power seemed to slam into Gwyn with deadly force, but every time the knocker was thrown off course, he recovered quick enough to swoop back down and launch another attack. It was putting enough pressure on Ulfarr to keep him distracted from pursuing us as hoped, but more than that, Gwyn might actually succeed in driving him off. There was a smell of blood in the air and I thought I was beginning to see evidence of Ulfarr weakening from one or more ph
ysical wounds to his flesh.
“He’s actually winning,” I said, handing the spyglass to Lady Sarah. Zee was back in the wheelhouse already. He sent Brendan to his bunk in the cabin below, so he’d be refreshed for the daylight hours, and went back to concentrating on steering us to foreign shores.
“Perhaps we have underestimated him,” she replied, passing the telescope to her sister after no more than a brief glimpse.
“If only we could find a way to break his curse for him,” Selina said, taking a similarly brief look at the beach before handing the spyglass back to me. “I’ll work on it when we reach Canada.”
The two sisters continued looking out towards the direction of the beach, though without the aid of the telescope there was no way Selina could see anything with her human eyes. I doubted Lady Sarah could see much of what was going on either.
Raising the spyglass back to my eye, I watched in amazement as Ulfarr fell to his knees. Gwyn had done it. He’d actually beaten the Elder in a fair fight, if there was such a thing in our world. The vampire underling fighting alongside him looked to have fallen already. Her body lay so still upon the sand, she may well have been dead. But Ulfarr’s other minion looked to be going as strong as ever in his fight against the barghest, though not for long. Once Gwyn had done with the Elder, I was sure he’d help Varin in finishing the last one off.
Ulfarr’s dark form looked to be one with the werewolf pelt at such a distance, and for a moment I was reminded of the night I’d almost been executed, when he’d forced me to my knees so he could behead me with that very same blade he’d been wielding against Gwyn. I couldn’t help smiling at the way the tables had turned. We weren’t so different, no matter what he chose to tell himself. It was just a shame he’d allowed his hatred to blind him so. He could have been a powerful ally, if he hadn’t chosen to make us his enemies.
Gwyn appeared to be hovering over the Elder, preparing to make his final strike. I vaguely wondered if he had gone as far as killing the female vampire and whether he’d do the same to Ulfarr, or whether he’d simply drain enough blood to keep them down while we made our escape. They’d be rendered helpless until they had fresh blood in their systems, but at least they’d have a chance at recovering if another vampire found them quick enough, before the sun rose and reduced them to dust. It was more merciful than Ulfarr deserved after the way he’d treated me. But if it did come to open warfare, we were better off with him still alive and able to fight, even if he refused to fight by my side. Gwyn was surely of the same opinion, since he’d been reluctant to fight in the first place. And yet, I was at risk for as long as the Elder lived. Then again, killing him might turn more vampires against me, dividing us further still and placing the Slayers another step closer to victory. There didn’t seem to be any particularly good options and I wondered what was going through Gwyn’s head as he floated there, deceptively harmless in the scene the spyglass revealed. Would he spare them?
In reality, it must only have been seconds in which Gwyn hovered over his prey. But it felt much longer as I stood watching with all those thoughts racing through my head, my body still tense and my claws digging in where my left hand gripped the side of the boat. When he finally pounced, I felt a rush of excitement from that inner darkness tied to my rage and my bloodlust and my need for revenge. Ulfarr claimed to seek justice for his murdered kin and yet he’d shown me nothing but injustice and cruelty from the moment we’d first met. He’d had this coming to him for a while, and I only wished I could have been the one to strike him down.
Ulfarr might have been on his knees but he remained upright, facing his adversary with no less courage for the certain defeat he now faced. He didn’t even flinch when Gwyn dived for him. It was a glorious moment for as long as it lasted. Then the sky lit up and snatched Gwyn’s victory right out of his hands.
CHAPTER TWENTY–SIX
Exiled
A bolt of lightning tore the night asunder, a crack in the darkness from which light spilled, bright and deadly. It pierced right through the heart of Gwyn’s incorporeal form, and in an instant the ancient, powerful spirit was gone and the defenceless human was back, crashing down to the beach with a terrible scream. I’ll never forget that sound. It was louder than the thunder rumbling in the lightning’s wake and filled with an agony that went far beyond all the various torments I’d endured, or so I felt.
Ulfarr was back on his feet. The lightning appeared to have come from nowhere, the clouds now parting above to let in all the natural light the night had to offer. Somehow the moon seemed weaker than before but it was enough to keep Gwyn in his human body, and he hit the sand in a crumpled heap. There he lay, with that same stillness as the vampire he’d felled.
“No,” I breathed, barely able to believe what had just happened. Fear was stabbing its way through my gut, and the longer the seconds stretched on with no sign of movement from my friend, the stronger it grew.
Varin had his jaws around his opponent’s arm, but he broke away the moment he realised Gwyn was hurt and lunged at Ulfarr instead. Once again the Elder was unflinching. The barghest was nowhere near as powerful an adversary as Gwyn had been and all it took was one mental blow to send the shadow dog flying backwards. Varin didn’t stay down, picking himself straight back up to attack again. But he never made it as far as his target. Something was repelling him, as though Ulfarr had created an invisible barrier around himself which the barghest wasn’t strong enough to break through.
“What just happened?” Selina asked. Without the aid of the spyglass, she would have seen the flash of lightning but nothing else.
“Ulfarr,” Lady Sarah hissed. “He called the lightning and then parted the clouds.”
Of course. Vince had told me how he’d had power over the weather which he’d used to summon the mist as part of the Slayers’ trap originally meant to capture me, but instead they’d taken Lizzy. Ulfarr must also have control over the elements. No wonder the lightning had struck so suddenly, without any of the usual build-up of a natural storm.
“Gwyn’s hurt,” I said, recovering from the initial shock. “We have to help him!”
Before anyone could respond, Ulfarr called out to me again.
“Let this be a warning, beast! I will allow either Lady Sarah or Zeerin to retrieve your friend’s body, but if you ever set foot on British soil again, I will not hesitate to kill any one of you. You are no longer welcome here. Even you, Lady Sarah.”
“Zee!” I yelled, too worried about Gwyn to feel much of anything about the Elder’s words. “Zee, turn this ship around now! Gwyn’s hurt!”
“There is no need,” Lady Sarah answered. “We can fly back to him. I will go – Zeerin is needed here.”
“Be careful, sister,” Selina said.
“I will,” Lady Sarah assured her. “Though I do not expect him to break his word.”
With that, she took the shape of a giant bat and leapt into the air. It didn’t take her long to reach the shore, her progress as supernaturally fast in flight as it was on the ground.
Ulfarr did prove to be as good as his word. He stood back while she grasped hold of Gwyn with her back legs, silent as far as I could tell and motionless. Lady Sarah took to the air again and he made no move to stop her.
Selina gripped the side of the ship, her face a mixture of frustration and anxiety. “What’s happening?”
“She’s got him. Ulfarr looks to be keeping his promise. He hasn’t attacked or given chase.”
Selina didn’t answer but I sensed her relief. Varin vanished from the beach a moment later. He didn’t rematerialise on the ship with us, but I wasn’t worried. No doubt he would be back when she had need to call on him again.
Lady Sarah reached us without incident. She was careful to place Gwyn as gently as she could manage, then shifted back to her true form. Her dress had fallen to the deck when she’d become a bat, but we were only given a glimpse of her bare flesh, the vampire retrieving the dress and pulling it back over her in one gr
aceful movement, too fast for the eye to follow. That was one thing that seemed to separate the vampires from werewolves. I’d long since lost all inhibitions around being naked in front of others, it happened so often, whereas the vampires seemed less comfortable with their own nudity. And yet it didn’t seem to bother them when I was fully human and lacking clothes. Maybe Ulfarr was right about one thing – werewolves were wilder than the vampire race, if not quite the mindless beasts he took great pains to paint us as.
Selina rushed over to check on Gwyn. I wanted to kneel down with her and see for myself what the damage was, but I forced myself to stay back and give her some room. She had centuries of experience in healing, not just with witchcraft but through the use of herb lore as well. I hadn’t even been trained in first aid.
“How bad is it?” I asked.
“Bad,” she said, her voice grave. “His heart’s not beating and he’s covered in burns.”
“No!” I snarled. “He can’t be dead – we only just got him back!”
“I’ll be honest, I’ve no idea if that means he’s dead or not. Without talking to the witch who placed his curse on him or seeing some written form of the spell, I don’t know how it works. I’ve no idea if his heart needs to beat like it does for mortal animals or if his life force is more complicated than that, like with vampires. All we can do is take him below deck and hope we’re not too late.”
“Then what are we waiting for? Let’s get down there!” I roared. I did kneel beside him then so I could grab hold. There were no signs of life from his ruined body, his flesh stinking of burnt meat and hair, and his skin patchy and covered in open sores. He hung limp and heavy in my arms, but I refused to believe I was holding his corpse.
“What’s going on?” Zee called from the wheelhouse.
I left the sisters to explain, heading straight down into the darkness of the cabin where Brendan was supposed to be resting. But the human wasn’t sleeping yet. His breathing was not the slow, measured breathing of the deeply asleep, but the faster, irregular breathing of the wide awake. And he had a light on.