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Vampire Magic 1: TASTE - Kingdom of Blood and Ash

Page 17

by D. S. Murphy


  “We give thanks to our protectors, who saved us,” he said. “And we celebrate our salvation with the renewal. One drop of blood, to purify our bodies. Two races, dependent on each other for survival, now thrive as one—as long as peace is maintained.”

  “Live together, or die apart,” the crowd answered. I felt the words on my lips, but they left a sour taste in my mouth. The front two rows stood, preparing to approach the altar and take the sacrament, but the king held up his palms for silence, and everyone returned to their seats.

  “There will be no renewal today.” The king announced. He spoke softly, but his voice carried to the very back of the hall and seemed to echo. Subdued whispers rose from the congregation.

  “As I’m sure you’ve heard by now, yesterday a vicious act of terrorism was perpetrated against one of our transport vehicles. Even worse, an elite was savagely attacked by the rebels inside the citadel.”

  He nodded towards the other side of the church, and I recognized the tall elite from yesterday. He was staring at Mary, and I saw her smile at him. I realized I’d seen him before, in Algrave—he was the elite who’d chosen Mary.

  “Silver bullets,” the king said, holding one up to the light. “As you can see, Stanely is just fine, so maybe we can put that particular superstition to rest. As for the possession of illegal firearms, however, that is a grave offense. The elixir is a privilege, not a right, and it must be earned. The price is peace, and this week the peace was shattered, for the first time in nearly a century. Unfortunately, even if I wanted to forgive such a grave trespass, these rebels have stolen this week’s shipment of elixir. They have stolen from you, and broken the covenant that protects us all.”

  “I do have a little bit left,” the king said, reaching into his dark jacket and holding up a small glass vial. It was similar to the ones we used in training. “This whole vial will go to the first person who gives my guards information about the rebels. Who they are, where they are hiding, or anything leading to the location of the stolen elixir. I guarantee you, we’ll find them anyway, and punishment will be swift. If you know the identity of any of the rebels and speak up now, you’ll be rewarded. However, if you conceal any information from us, after today we will consider you accomplices in crimes against the state. And you all know the punishment for attacking an elite.”

  I calculated quickly in my head: two drops each, for the thirteen chosen. At least 26 drops. More than enough to heal my mother. The king nodded to to the side, and two of his soldiers brought forward a man dressed in black, with a hood over his head and his hands tied behind his back.

  “As you can see, we’ve already captured one of the rebels. He’s already given us plenty of information. So if you think you’re protecting someone by keeping silent, you’re wrong.”

  My pulse raced, and sweat beaded on my brow.

  The king removed the bag to show the man’s face, and I let out a breath I didn’t know I’d been holding. Not Trevor.

  “Live together or die apart,” King Richard said.

  “Live together or die—” the congregation started giving the standard reply, but cut off suddenly as the king tore the man’s head from his body. He held the bloody stump up, with the face towards the congregation, its jaw hanging open in a silent scream.

  Bile rose in my throat as the man’s body twitched, tumbling down the red carpet steps of the altar onto the dark stones. There were shouts from the congregation. People covered their faces with their hands or bit their fists to keep from crying out. I saw a few crying silently. But they were the weak ones. Most of the congregation kept their faces blank, staring straight ahead, as if nothing had happened.

  “One more thing,” the king said “we’ll be turning off the purification engines for the next three days, as a reminder of what life would be like without the elite here to protect you. Remember, the covenant is an agreement that must be honored on both sides.”

  He tossed the head in front of him and it rolled down the center aisle, before finally coming to rest near the back of the church. I felt dizzy and the room was spinning, but a figure caught my attention. One of the curates. Confusion overwhelmed me for a second, trying to place him. But then I realized why he looked so familiar. He was the man I’d seen talking to Trev in Algrave. The man I’d seen outside our caravan just before the accident. The one I’d chased into Madame Brezing’s house of pleasure. Instead of his long jacket and knitted cap, he was wearing purple robes and a curate’s elaborate hairstyle. He looked up and locked eyes with me for a long moment, then hurried through the front doors. I knew in my gut he was one of the rebels. All I had to do was point him out and claim the reward. His life in exchange for my mother’s.

  But what evidence did I have, other than seeing him talk to Trevor, and knowing Trevor was one of the terrorists? Giving up the curate would mean exposing Trevor. I pushed through the crowd after him towards the door. My dress felt hot and sticky against my skin, and the cool air outside made me realize how much I’d been sweating inside, after the king’s display of force.

  I heard angry whispers around me, as people grumbled about missing this week’s dose of elixir. One woman’s voice was louder than the others.

  “It’s not fair,” she said. “The chosen get all the elixir they want, while we’re punished.” I glared at her, and she froze when she realized I’d heard her. She bowed low, begging forgiveness, but I ignored her, turning back to search for the curate.

  I almost lost him in the crowd, but then caught a glimpse of his robe disappearing around a corner down a side street. I hesitated before following, looking to see if anyone else had noticed us. If this man was a rebel, and linked to Trev, I didn’t want to bring extra attention to him. Not yet. But I had to know who he was.

  Hands grabbed me and covered my mouth when I turned the corner. The curate pulled me into the shadows, under the awning of a closed shop. Adrenaline flared through my body and I pushed him back with surprising force. He hit the wall with a thud and let out a low groan.

  “Easy, princess,” he said. “I just wanted to know why you’re following me.”

  “You’re one of them, aren’t you?” I asked. “One of the rebels.”

  His face paled and he tugged at his collar uncomfortably.

  “I saw you,” I said. “In Algrave, with Trevor. Then just before our car was attacked, on the way to the citadel. You did it, didn’t you? You stole the elixir.”

  He looked around nervously, then grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.

  “We can’t talk here,” he said. “It’s not safe, for either of us. This uniform makes me invisible, but you stand out,” he said, looking over my dark dress. Just then, alarms rang from everywhere at once. His eyes went wide with fear, and I covered my ears as panic flooded through me.

  “What’s that?” I asked.

  “They’re turning off the purification engines,” he said. “We have to get inside, quickly.”

  “Wait!” I said, grabbing his arm. “I have questions.”

  “See that bridge over there?” he asked, pointing down the hill at a steeply arched bridge over one of the streams that cut through the city. “There’s a dirt path to climb down and a small platform underneath it. Meet me there at midnight.”

  “You’re crazy,” I said. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

  He sighed and reached into his pocket, then pulled out a slip of paper.

  My pulse raced as I unfolded it and saw my mother’s handwriting.

  Emily, this is Marcus. You can trust him. It’s time you learn the truth about who you are. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you earlier. I pray I’ll see you again, but if not, stay safe. You are more special than you could ever know, and it’s been the privilege of my life to see you grow into the woman you’ve become.

  “What’s she talking about?” I asked. “What does she mean ‘if I see you again’—is she okay? Is the sickness worse?”

  “I’ll tell you everything tonight,” the man said.


  “What about the ash?” I asked.

  “We’ll take care of it.” He squeezed my arm once, then left down the opposite direction. I waited a moment, taking a deep breath and trying to steady myself. Marcus was a curate. And a rebel. And he knew my mother. How was she connected to all this? And what did she mean ‘The truth about who you are?’

  The crowds had dispersed, so I saw Damien easily once I’d returned to the flat courtyard in front of the cathedral. His tall, lean form stood out in stark contrast against the wide open space. He looked relieved to see me.

  “Are you all right?” he asked, putting his hands on my shoulders. “You disappeared after the service.” His blue eyes were wide and full of concern. My throat tightened and my palms started sweating. I hated lying, but I knew I couldn’t tell him the truth.

  “I felt sick,” I lied. “After… what your father did in there.”

  Guilt flashed across his features, and a hint of anger.

  “He’s always had a flair for the dramatic,” he said, frowning.

  A white flake of ash fell between us, then another landed in my hair. Damien reached up and pulled it out gently, turning his eyes up to the sky, which was quickly darkening.

  “Come, we have to get you home. Quickly.”

  17

  I gazed out the window at the clumps of dark ash filling the square below. A few bundled figures hurried home, leaving footsteps in the blanket of soot and ember on the ground. An old woman with a cane paused, clutching her breath and gasping for breath. Someone grabbed her arm and ushered her inside. A woman chased after a young boy, who’d gone out to retrieve his ball. She picked him up and rushed back inside, covering her mouth with her shawl. Even though I was inside, I could feel the burning in my lungs, and remember the taste of the poisoned ash in my throat.

  “What are you thinking?” Damien said from across the room. I was still wearing the dark blue dress Claire picked out for the renewal ceremony. I wanted to change into something more comfortable, but for some reason I also didn’t want to be alone. I followed Damien into the living room—a wide room with a piano and a billiards table. The servants had already lit a fire, and I liked the way the warm light sparkled against the shiny fabric of my dress.

  “It’s not fair,” I answered quickly. “They didn’t do anything wrong. They moved to the citadel for security, stability. They’re loyal citizens.”

  “But some of them attacked the shipment, and stole elixir,” Damien said. “The covenant only works if both sides follow the rules.”

  “But how does this help?” I asked, gesturing at the ash falling into the city.

  “We locked down the city immediately after the explosion. Which means, some of the rebels are still here; and the elixir is probably still here too. They’re just hidden.”

  Did that mean Trevor was trapped in the citadel?

  I crossed my arms to keep my hands from shaking.

  “So this is what,” I asked. “Just a plan to flush them out? Get neighbors to turn them in?”

  Damien shrugged, poking the fire with an iron hook. He’d taken off his jacket and loosened his tie, but still looked uncomfortably dashing.

  “They broke the law,” he said with a dangerous gleam in his eye. “They must be punished.”

  My skin chilled, imagining what kind of punishments the elite could inflict.

  “You don’t approve?” he asked, raising one eyebrow.

  “I just, I don’t understand. Why would they attack now? The compounds keep us safe from the ash, and the slagpaw. They’re protected. What could they hope to achieve, other than this?” The city was almost entirely swallowed up now by the burning embers and dark gray ash.

  “Not everyone agrees with the covenant. With the choosing,” Damien said darkly. “They’d rather live underground like rats, carrying death and disease, and be free than submit.”

  I didn’t know what I believed anymore. I’d always been a good citizen. I went to renewal. My family didn’t have much, but I’d never known violence. Not since my first incident with Nigel in the woods. If Damien hadn’t saved me, I might have died in that colorless field, my blood staining the dead grass. Is that how most elite acted when they weren’t being observed? I always thought the compounds protected us from the ash and the slagpaw. I never realized the covenant protected us from the elite themselves. Did that make them our saviors, or captives?

  “What if the elite broke the covenant first,” I blurted. “Those dead girls—”

  “I told you, elite don’t kill people,” Damien grunted.

  “They aren’t supposed to,” I said. “But if the elite broke the rules and killed innocents, wouldn’t the humans have the right to revolt?”

  Damien pulled away in surprise, then looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time. He reached into a cabinet and grabbed two glasses. He handed me one to me, then grabbed a bottle of whiskey. I held my glass up as he poured, then watched him sip from his glass and make a face.

  “I like the taste,” he shrugged. “We can drink, but we can’t get drunk. Trust me, I’ve tried.” He dropped some ice into our cups, then leaned back on the sofa and put his feet up on the table.

  “When injustice becomes law,” he said, staring into the fire, “resistance becomes duty.”

  “What?” I asked. I took a sip from the whiskey, and felt the burn at the back of my throat.

  “It’s something one of the early presidents said. A moral argument for revolution,” Damien said. “And you figured it out on your own.”

  “So you agree?” I asked.

  “Elite don’t kill humans in our compounds. In the wild somewhere, maybe. Sure. But they can’t do it in the compounds. That would defeat the whole system. It would ruin the point of everything. So hypothetically, if a tyrant commanded obedience without providing useful benefits in return, and also inflicted cruel and unjust penalties and its citizens, then yes I think people have a right to rise up. If the weak and innocent are being trampled, and nobody else is doing anything about it, I could sympathize with the rebels.”

  My eyes widened at the admission. I looked around, hunting for the blinking red lights or any indication we were being monitored. I half expected the royal guard to burst in.

  How could he even say that out loud?

  “I can sympathize with them,” Damien continued, with a sad grin. “But that doesn’t make them right. You don’t know how it was before. I never supported my father’s plans. The covenant, the choosing, none of it. So yes, I studied government, political theory. I buried myself in my study, I read everything I could get my hands on. But no challenge in history is as great as the one we’re now facing: it’s not just a war, it’s a possible extinction event. No other political system had to deal with the blood lust, or the fact that one elite is stronger than a hundred men. Or the fact that elixir is so addictive, humans will follow an elite to the ends of the earth just to tear them to pieces. What you saw today in church was nothing. Imagine being attacked by a thousand humans at once, an army desperate for a small taste of your blood, to take away the pain and suffering of the ash, to protect their families and loved ones. Imagine having to kill dozens—hundreds—of humans, just to survive.”

  He trembled, overcome with emotion, and turned his back on me to look out the window. There was a crack of thunder, and red cracks of fire split through the black sky like rivers of burning lava. I put my arm on his shoulder but he pulled away. Part of me wondered if this was some kind of test. Either way, I didn’t know what I was supposed to say next.

  “My father’s system may not be perfect,” Damien said finally, “but if it’s capable of producing someone like you, it can’t be that bad.”

  “Someone like me?” I asked.

  “I didn’t care about anything before. I was free, but I held myself above. I never got close to the humans. But being around you, being with you… it’s given me something to protect. Something to live for, but also something to lose.”

&
nbsp; He turned to face me, framed by the glow of the fire and the burning embers falling outside the window. There was a light in his eyes, an intensity I’d never seen before.

  “So you see, for the first time, I recognize the value in my father’s system. Even if I sympathize with the rebels, there’s nothing I could do about it, because I have no better solution to the one we’ve got. There is no alternative, so it’s either this or war. Every person in the citadel, every human in the compounds, would be slaughtered, and then the elite would slowly starve to death. It would be the end of everything.”

  What was he saying—that he believed in his father’s utopian vision, just when my faith had been badly shaken? King Richard decapitated that rebel like he was decorking a bottle of wine. I couldn’t get the image out of my head: the man’s eyes blinking in surprise, the bloody stump that used to be his neck. It could have been Trevor. It could have been me. After all, just before coming to the citadel, hadn’t I also tried to steal extra rations of elixir to save my mother?

  “So what are you going to do?” I asked quietly.

  “The ash will keep everyone inside. Then we’ll check door to door. We’ll find the rebels and kill them. It’s the only way to keep you safe.”

  My skin chilled suddenly and I couldn’t breathe. Damien was going to find Trev, and kill him.

  “But what if they aren’t trying to overthrow the system,” I asked. “What if they just needed elixir to save a dying relative?” What if they were just like me?

  “It doesn’t matter!” Damien said, slamming his fist on the table. It cracked under the force, but I stood my ground.

  “Won’t killing the rebels just give others a reason to fight?”

  “Once the rebellion has been put down, it’ll buy us a few decades of peace. We’ve done it before.”

  “What do you mean, before?” I asked.

  “Nevermind.” Damien said. “Nothing.”

  Then his eyes softened and he pulled me closer, holding my shoulders.

 

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