by Adam Thomas
Heinrich bobbed a wobbly bow and backed up, leaving the door open. Wiggins kept the form of Apranashar floating in place, but now he made the cloak longer and added some wind to make it curl and billow.
A minute later, Rosamund appeared.
From across the street the others saw her framed in the doorway. “That’s our cue,” Emric said.
He grabbed Syne’s hand and ripped a seam into the Ethereal plane. Stepping through, they found themselves in the basement of Magnolia Hall, precisely where Emric meant to deposit them.
“Well done,” Syne whispered. “What are these stone containers?”
“Coffins,” Emric said. “Try not to think about it and your fear will take longer to catch up with you.”
“And you think this karest thing is in one of them?”
“Perhaps. It’s where I would keep a prized possession if I were a vampire.”
Syne raised an eyebrow. “You’re not, right?”
“You’ve seen me in the daytime.”
“Right, right.”
They rummaged as they whispered, and after a few moments it was clear the karest was not hiding in the coffins.
“So much for that theory,” Emric said.
“I can cast a spell to help locate it,” Syne offered.
“Why didn’t you say so? Do it!”
Syne closed his eyes and angled his arms outward, as if he were holding a dowsing rod. Turning this way and that, he looked up at the ceiling. “It’s above us...and it’s on the move.”
“She’s wearing it? Vixsik,” Emric swore under his breath. “I should have guessed. Time for Plan B.”
Syne nodded and crept out of the coffin chamber. In the next room, they found three long tables and set upon them were three large, disgusting…
“Flesh golems!” Emric said, his whisper ending in a high-pitched squeak.
Syne skirted the room, keeping his distance from the inert bodies. He shot Emric a look of wide-eyed confusion, bordering on panic.
“They’re the stuff of horror stories,” Emric continued. “They must be why Rosamund needed the luranko and the wisps. Let’s not wake them up.”
“Way ahead of you.” And he was. Syne was already standing on the bottom step of the cellar stairs. Emric joined him, and the pair climbed gingerly up the stairs and into Magnolia Hall.
The moment Emric and Syne had stepped through Ethereality, Rosamund was recovering from her shock at seeing her sire at her front door in full display of the Diamond Spire’s streets.
But Rosamund was strong of will and not easily frightened. She recovered quickly, drew herself up to her full height, and said, “Apranashar, what an unexpected surprise.”
“I’ve come to discuss the letter you sent me, Samantha.” Wiggins kept the voice low, nearly a whisper, in order to cover the fact that he was only guessing at the vampire’s accent.
“Indeed,” Rosamund said, her eyes squinting at the use of her given name. “But not here. My identity is a secret, and I would like to keep it that way. I am going to slam the door in your face now so anyone with prying eyes will think we have nothing to do with each other. Meet me at the back door in two minutes.”
The door shut with a bang, and Wiggins floated the illusion back to the street, where it vanished in a puff of smoke. “To the other side of the house,” he hissed at the hiding B-Team.
“Quickly,” Nar said. “We’ll hide in the ruins of Roseview.”
“Hang on,” Sorvek said. “You’re not in charge here.”
“Do you have a better idea?”
“Yes,” Sorvek said as he ducked low and dashed across the street. “We can hide in the ruins of Roseview.”
Nar growled in aggravation, but followed just the same. Shonasir and Rhys brought up the rear. Tyrevane was in Rhys’s hand, ready to draw vampiric blood. By the time Rosamund opened the kitchen door, the B-Team was lying down behind piles of rubble as close to Magnolia Hall as they could get. Wiggins had reconstituted the illusion of Apranashar, and the elder vampire hovered in the moon-tinged darkness.
Rosamund stood in the doorway, making it a point not to invite her sire inside. The non-invitation would not stop Apranashar from forcing their way in, since a vampire’s home was not protected by restrictive magic, as others’ homes were. But Rosamund had no wish to make this conversation longer than it needed to be, so welcoming her sire inside was unnecessary.
“I didn’t think you ever left your cave,” Rosamund said.
“When I have great need,” Wiggins replied evasively. “Now bring me the karest, and then we can discuss your requests.”
Rosamund bristled. “They are demands, not requests.”
“I am not here to banter about semantics,” Wiggins said, starting to feel the part. “Now do as I say, Samantha.”
“My name is Rosamund,” she said, holding up the orulanon karest. “And Thousand Spires is mine.”
For a moment, Wiggins was dazzled by the gem’s sparkle. “We shall see. Tell me, Rosamund, what exactly –”
But he never finished the question because someone shouted Rosamund’s name from within the house. Rosamund turned in place and called back, “Serafina?”
“Intruders!”
Without another glance at Apranashar, Rosamund raced into the dining room. Serafina filled the opposite doorway, her fangs bared. Between them stood Emric and Syne.
“What is the meaning of this?” Rosamund asked, her voice a harsh whisper more menacing than any yell.
“Just passing through,” Emric said, and with that he ripped another tear into Ethereality.
At least he tried to. Rosamund slashed her hand through the air and severed the invisible threads of the dwarf’s magic. He tried again, and she countered his spell a second time. His magic spent, Emric backed up against the wall of the dining room with Syne at his side. The two vampires closed in.
Rosamund kept her eyes on her quarry as she spoke to Serafina. “My love, why don’t you try what I’ve been teaching you on our old friend here. I’ve already charmed him once, so he should be more susceptible.”
“I’ll try,” Serafina said, “But I can feel the bloodlust coming. I’m not sure I can control it.”
“You can, my love. I believe in you.”
“How touching,” Syne said, and to his surprise found that his abject fear manifested as sarcastic bravado.
“I’ll take this one,” Rosamund said. She eyed Syne with the same hunger as when they first met upon the delivery of the luranko.
Syne’s eyes flashed pink and a moment later so did Emric’s. “Well done, Serafina. Now, my pets, it seems an odd coincidence that you sneak into my home at the same moment my famously reclusive sire comes to my door unannounced. Tell me what’s going on, if you please.”
“That’s not your sire,” Syne said. “That’s Wiggins.”
“And what, pray tell, is a Wiggins?”
“I ask myself that everyday.”
Rosamund chuckled softly to herself. “And what about your friends, Emric? I suppose they’re hiding out somewhere nearby. Shall we go look for them together?”
“That’s a fine idea,” agreed the charmed dwarf.
Rosamund and Serafina led their prisoners into the kitchen, where the door was still open. The illusion remained, but it no longer made Rosamund’s lifeless heart quail. She stroked Syne’s neck with her long fingernails and drank in the scent of his fear, which lingered despite the charm.
“Apranashar,” she said. “Shall we begin our negotiations by sharing a meal?”
Wiggins’s nimble mind went unnaturally numb. Several agonizing seconds passed before he found an appropriate reply. “Talk first. He can be our incentive to make a deal.”
“Ah, so a deal is on the table. I had thought –”
But Rosamund never had the chance to say
what she thought, for at that moment a burning arrow smashed through the window and took her just below the collarbone. An instant later, a huge fire elemental stood before her, its flaming arms readying a strike.
As Shonasir let fly the arrow, Sorvek conjured a fey spirit in the shape of a unicorn and sent it galloping inside. Serafina was the closest to the door, and the unicorn impaled her with its horn. The attack broke the new vampire’s already tenuous control. Sensing no blood in the spirit, Serafina whirled on her thrall and buried her fangs into Emric’s neck.
Rosamund was too busy fending off the Awakened Flame to stop her, and all she could do was scream, “Serafina, no!”
The vicious bite broke the charm on Emric. He wrenched himself out of Serafina’s grasp just as Rhys and Ronin Nar burst into the kitchen. They both plunged their swords into Serafina’s belly.
Yes, yes, give me more! This is power, immortal and strong and unceasing, the voice within Tyrevane crowed triumphantly in Rhys’s mind as he battled Serafina.
Emric staggered outside, his hand trying to staunch the blood flowing from his neck. Collapsing to the soft grass, his fingers weakly brushed the strings of his lute, sending a healing melody through his body. The bleeding stopped, and he managed to sit up. “Syne,” he called out. “Syne is still in there, charmed!”
Under the cover of his now obsolete illusion, Wiggins saw his friend standing in the corner of the kitchen, a look of mild surprise plastered on his face. But the cowardly gnome could not bring himself to enter the fray.
Inside, Rhys and Nar could hear and feel the stomping of feet coming up the cellar stairs. “What’s that noise?” Rhys shouted over the din.
“Flesh golems,” Syne said placidly.
And then they broke through the dining room door. The three golems stood as tall and broad as Rhys, and a sickly blue-green light shone in their chests. They were silent save for their crashing feet. Before the golems could reach the vampires, Nar struck a killing blow, and Serafina turned to mist.
“To your coffin, my love,” Rosamund yelled in desperation, and she slipped between her experiments. A grim smile curled on her face as the golems went to work. They pummeled Rhys and Nar, and with each strike, lightning from the captive wisps surged into the bodies of her foes. In a matter of moments, Rhys and Nar fell unconscious, mere inches from the gates of death. The fey unicorn tried to distract the golems, but they were nothing more than single-minded destroyers. One of them made ready to bring its fist down on the prone form of Ronin Nar.
But a fiery blast behind it knocked the golem aside. Shonasir had ignited their Awakened Flame into an inferno, which engulfed all three golems. The golems’ dessicated flesh caught quickly, and the three lumbering fireballs staggered around the kitchen. In a matter of moments, Magnolia Hall was ablaze.
The rest of the B-Team pulled Rhys and Nar out of the fire, and Emric set to work reviving them.
The blaze separated Rosamund from her enemies. She grabbed Syne and pulled him through the broken dining room door. “Come with me. I need your blood,” she bellowed.
earlier today
Alurel Plants the Seed
Alurel cracked open the glass globe and removed the sprouted ironwood seed. Fyoshon the Keeper, an awakened cypress tree of ancient days, stood nearby, its lush canopy rustling with joy at the sight of the green-gray shoot peeking from Alurel’s hands.
Leaf-Minder Tharinel knelt by a mound of earth and gestured to the small hole they had made. “The keeper has chosen this spot, Alurel. Recently, a grandparent tree fell in this part of the forest, allowing the sunlight to reach the ground. This will give our new blessing the best chance for growth.”
As they said this, the sun appeared from behind the clouds and a shaft of light fell upon the hole. Motes of pollen and small insects danced in the ray, filling it with life.
Alurel knelt next to Tharinel and lay the seedling upon the earth. Together they gently tucked the loose soil around the seedling. The green-gray shoot unfurled its tip and reached for the sun.
“From Ashlyra’s hand to the earth’s soft embrace,” Alurel whispered. “My task is complete.”
“You are welcome to stay with us in the forest and tend this blessing,” Tharinel said.
Tears filled Alurel’s eyes at the invitation, and she smiled a faraway kind of smile. “I grew up in the desert. I don’t actually know anything about caring for trees.”
“We can teach you.”
Alurel took Tharinel’s hands in hers. “Someday I will return. But right now I need to help my friends.”
thirty-three
An Unlikely Alliance
The fire raging in Magnolia Hall’s kitchen spread quickly to the rest of the first floor and began licking upwards. The flesh golems, such a threat a moment ago, were cremated in moments by the intense heat. When they crumbled to the ground, the will’-o-wisps, which had been animating them, drifted from their bodies and floated outside beyond the fire. Sorvek and Shonasir took care of them while Emric sang a song of healing for Rhys and Ronin Nar.
Wiggins Fapplestamp had finally abandoned the illusion of Apranashar. He sat near Emric, his head in his hands. “They got Syne. I saw him in there. I could have reached him.”
“Don’t give up,” Emric said. “There’s only one place they could have gone.”
Wiggins looked up at the burning house and comprehension dawned. “The basement. Tell me, where are their coffins?”
Emric pointed to the southeastern corner of the manor. “That’s where Syne and I appeared.”
In the stone-lined cellar, Rosamund Steele paced back and forth beside Serafina’s coffin. It was brand new, and Rosamund had never dreamed they would need it so soon. Thankfully, Serafina’s mist form had begun its flight for the coffin’s safety before the Flame had exploded, or else she might have been flash-evaporated, and then…
Rosamund bared her fangs and growled. No, she would not allow herself to think of that possibility. She stopped her pacing at the coffin and looked within. The mist had settled and was slowly reconstituting itself into a humanoid shape, into Serafina’s perfect form. Rosamund watched the mist sparkle as each droplet shot out threads of magical energy to every other nearby droplet. The threads coalesced into glowing skin and hair and eyes and fingernails. The glow subsided and there lay the naked Serafina, her clothes a victim of the fire upstairs. Her hands were clasped below her breasts and her eyes were closed. Rosamund knew she would be weak, so weak, without immediate blood.
“Come here,” she beckoned, and Syne approached. “If you please.”
Syne looked down at the nude body, then back at Rosamund. “I don’t understand.”
“Just lay beside her. She lacks the strength to feed standing up.”
The pink mist of the vampiric charm flashed again in Syne’s eyes, and he climbed into the coffin. It was a tight squeeze to lay alongside Serafina’s body, but he was thin and managed to fit by lying on his side.
“Now what?” Syne asked.
“Just a little painless prick,” Rosamund said, and she reached down with her sharp fingernail.
A quick slice on the back of Syne’s hand brought a single bead of bright red blood welling to the surface. Serafina’s eyes flew open. She turned to Syne and sank her teeth into Syne’s unprotected neck. Immediately, the charm failed and Syne started screaming. He tried to break free of Serafina’s grip, but in the coffin there was no space to move. Rosamund looked on, aroused at the sight of her lover drinking so freely of this lovely, feebly struggling man. She desired more than anything to join her, but Serafina needed all his blood to regain her strength.
Rosamund was so enthralled by Serafina’s display that she did not hear the soft sizzling sound of Ethereality being ripped open nearby. Before she could react, Wiggins had grabbed Syne’s limp arm and opened a second portal. Th
e pair vanished in a flash of silver-blue light.
Rosamund bit back a screech of frustration and pulled Serafina to her. “Did you drink enough to transform, my love?”
“I think so,” Serafina said. “But I feel so tired. I need to rest for a while longer.”
“Not here. The house will collapse on us.”
Rosamund turned and spied a small window high up in the basement’s wall. She hurled a jet of pure energy at the window, shattering it outward. “Come, my love, just like we practiced.”
Serafina closed her eyes and curled her body inward. The same mist sparkle swirled around her, darker this time, like the shine on a cut piece of obsidian. And then she was flapping in midair, leathery black wings outstretched. Rosamund transformed, as well, and the two bats winged through the broken window, caught the thermals of the burning house, and flew off into the night.
“Well, that could have gone better,” Sorvek said as he watched the flames engulf Magnolia Hall.
“We need a new plan,” Shonasir said.
Sorvek pulled a small flask from his hip. “I have one. Get drunk and wait for my blood to boil from the inside out.”
“Or,” Emric said. “Or we partner with the devil we know instead of the devil we don’t.”
“After all that, you still have a crush on Rosamund?” Shonasir asked in disbelief.
“Not a crush, just a proper understanding of currently aligning interests.”
“Come again?”
“Let’s walk and talk,” Emric said. “We’ll let the chief inspector explain to the fire brigade.”
Nar glared down at the dwarf. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. Not with two vampires on the loose.”
“Fine, then to keep the vampires off our backs, we’re crashing at your house tonight.”
Nar pursed his lips and narrowed his eyes. “Very well, one night. But my place isn’t big enough for all of you.”
Wiggins threw up his hands. “I’m off to warn Aunt Elsany about the vampires.”
“I’m with him,” Syne said, his voice and body shaky from loss of blood.