Vampire Magic 1: TASTE - Kingdom of Blood and Ash

by D. S. Murphy

  “Keep close,” Trevor said. “Stay quiet.”

  We scrambled through the maze-like tunnels, going lower and lower under the city. I couldn’t tell which direction we were heading until I heard a loud, rushing sound I recognized.

  “The waterfall,” I said. “Are we near the palace?”

  Trevor nodded. Finally we reached a tunnel wide enough to stand up in, and followed it to a massive underground cavern. Wide blocks of stone had been carved into the walls, and I realized they were buildings, half submerged in water and covered with green moss. It was a whole underground city, but dead and silent, apart from the dripping of water and the constant rushing of the river overhead.

  “What is this place?” I asked in awe.

  “When the ash started falling, most humans went underground. The subway, the sewers. Anywhere the ash couldn’t reach them. They built a home here. Until King Richard took over. He redirected the rivers and had them flood the tunnels, trapping the humans like rats in a cage. That’s what we were to them. We had a choice, agree to his terms and live in the citadel, in the compounds, or drown.”

  I shuddered, wondering where Trevor was getting his information from. Was there any proof for this alternate history, or was curate Marcus manipulating young recruits like Trevor with made-up stories? Something drew my eye to the ceiling and I squinted. My heart jumped when I saw the blinking red lights. Not just one—hundreds of them. But why would they have so many cameras, way down here?

  “Bats,” Trevor said, pointing upwards. “They won’t bother us if we stay quiet.”

  As we pressed on, the water came up to my ankles. It was so dark I could barely make out Trev’s bulky form in front of me. My foot caught on a piece of rubble and I fell hard on my knees.

  “Shit!” I swore, then covered my mouth with my hand as Trevor held a finger to his lips. But it was too late. I heard the flapping of leathery wings, then something tugged at my hair. Trevor grabbed my hand and we ran forward, covering our heads from the barrage of tiny claws and teeth.

  Finally we came to a small tunnel, and Trevor tossed me inside against the wall. We gasped for breath until the bats resettled.

  “This is you,” he said. “It’ll take you above ground, inside the walls. Stay out of sight. Stay safe. I’m sorry we brought you into this. I was against it from the start. But, if you did find an antidote… imagine, a world in which we didn’t have to hide and scutter around. A world in which we were truly equal, truly free.”

  I wanted to argue with him, but I held my tongue. This wasn’t the time or place. He was dreaming of the world before, the one Damien had shown me. But that world was gone, forever. Getting rid of the elite wouldn’t bring it back. I grabbed his hand and pulled him closer. There was one more thing I needed. He looked surprised, then leaned forward to kiss me again.

  “The elixir,” I blurted. “Where is it, do you have it? My mother—” I tried to keep the desperation off my face. I hated the look Trevor gave me. Confusion, then disappointment. His face hardened and his lips pressed tight.

  “It’s safe,” he said. “We’ll take care of your mother, I promise. But, there are still a lot of things you don’t know. I don’t know when I’ll see you again, it’s too dangerous in the citadel.”

  “How will you get out?” I asked.

  “There’s an underground river that will take me beyond the gates,” he said. “I have one more thing to do, but I’ll leave tonight. Marcus will stay. If you need to get in touch, light a candle and put it in your window at midnight.”

  I nodded, then reluctantly let go of his hand. Over the earthy scent of the tunnels, I could smell Trev, and he smelled like home. Pine needles, campfire, and a muskiness that was all his own. I wanted to tell him to stop chasing me, that I was happy with Damien, that I wanted to stay in the citadel. But my heart was beating too fast, and I wasn’t sure what I wanted anymore.

  I hurried up the tunnel, climbing several flights of stairs, until I came to a small door with light on the other side. I heard voices upstairs, but the room seemed empty. I pushed the door open and crept out into some kind of storage basement, filled with glass bottles. Then I made my way up the stairs. I froze for a second, confused and disoriented. Then I realized I was at Madame Brezing’s. Despite the curfew, a few men had braved the ash for their evening ale. But the mood was different. Dark figures huddled in corners, grumbling and sucking down liquid from dark brown bottles. I pulled my shawl around my head, covering my nose and mouth, then headed quickly to the front door. Just as I put my hand on the door handle, it opened suddenly from the other side and a girl pushed through. Rivka.

  My eyes widened in shock, while hers narrowed. She reached up towards my shawl, and I realized my face was still covered. I shoved past her quickly and headed up the street, my heart pounding so loud I couldn’t hear my footsteps against the ash. Had she recognized me? Would she tell Nigel?

  I dove into a dark corner, expecting to hear shouts or alarms behind me when she alerted the royal guard. But none came. Only the deathly silence of the ash, the hiss of burning embers as they fell gently like snow, the city as still and quiet as the grave.

  I forced myself out of hiding and continued down the streets. The last time I’d taken this route was after I’d seen the dead girls with the missing eyes, and been compulsed by the man in the white mask. That seemed like ages ago now, when I still thought the citadel was safe, and the covenant was binding and sacred. I’d been so naive.

  Large X shapes had been painted sloppily on the doors of some of the buildings, dripping red paint. When I realized the symbols marked the buildings that were cleared by the royal guard, I used them to choose routes where I wouldn’t run into any troops.

  My breath was hot and sticky under the mask, but at least the ash wasn’t getting into my lungs. I didn’t know when I’d get more elixir, and I already felt so weak my legs were trembling. At long last, I made it home, stumbled inside, and let the door close gently behind me. The house was still and silent. The staff must be asleep, thank goodness. I took off my wet boots and socks and hid them in a cupboard, then tiptoed upstairs in my bare feet. I half expected Damien to be waiting for me in my room, demanding to know where I’d been. But my room was blissfully empty. Nobody had seen me go out. Nobody had seen me come in. Except Rivka, but she didn’t get a clear look at my face. I was safe, for now.

  I turned on the hot water to fill the bathtub, eager to get out of my soiled clothes. I let myself sink into the water once it was full, adding the bath salts and lavendar oil Annette gave me. It was strange to be surrounded by this much luxury after my night of adventure in the sewers. I dried off and changed into silk pajamas that hung loosely against my skin. I was exhausted, and sunk gratefully into my pillow.

  It seemed like only moments later when a tapping sound jerked me awake, but the light coming through the window told me it was already early morning. I realized my wrist was bare, and fumbled for my bracelet, snapping it back in place. The cold metal against my skin made me shiver. Then I heard the tapping again, and got up to check the window. Maybe a bird, trying to get inside out of the ash? A hooded figure stood in the courtyard below, looking up at me. When she lifted her hood I could see her features clearly. Penelope. What was she doing here? She looked furtively in both directions and took out a parcel from beneath her cloak. She held it up, making sure I could see it, then crossed over to the wall of a building and stuffed it into a drainpipe.

  Shouts made her spin suddenly. She flung her cloak back and lifted her arms, pulling out twin pistols in a fluid motion and firing as a group of royal guard rushed into view. Two men fell immediately, but more were coming from the other side. I shouted a warning, slapping my palm against the glass so hard it cracked. I held my breath as she tried to fight them off, but there were too many. She stabbed three with a short blade before they overwhelmed her—punching her in the ribs and stomach until she crumbled to the ground. Then they tied her hands and dragged her out of view.r />
  19

  I ran downstairs and out into the ash. I didn’t care about my lungs. I had to save Penelope. But the ash was too thick, and I didn’t even know which way they’d gone. A figure emerged from the embers. I reeled back instinctively, until I saw it was Damien wearing his black hood. His sword dangled loosely against his long legs, and he’d never looked more dangerous. He pushed me inside and shut the door.

  “They took Penelope,” I said, my voice cracking, already rough from the burning ash.

  “She killed two guards,” he said, his voice like steel. “There’s nothing we can do.”

  My jaw dropped in surprise. I pushed away from him, reaching for the door, but he pulled me tightly against his chest and held my wrists.

  “My father’s troops have been rounding up suspects all night. Interrogating them. One of them named her. She resisted arrest. I’m sure a confession will come soon enough.”

  My head was spinning. How could Penelope be a rebel?

  “But she’s chosen,” I pleaded. “She’s our friend.”

  Damien held my face with both hands, and brushed my tears away with his thumbs.

  “You’re tired,” he said. “You need eat and sleep. There’s nothing we can do right now, it’s too soon. But I’ll appeal to my father. There will be a trial. Maybe we can sway his decision. Don’t lose hope. I’ll do everything I can to save her.”

  “You promise?” I asked.

  “I promise,” he said. Then he leaned in and kissed my forehead. I let myself melt into his arms. That’s when I noticed Damien was wearing the same clothes from yesterday. He’d been out hunting the rebels all night. I shivered, thinking about what would have happened if he’d caught me.

  I washed my face and got changed, before heading downstairs again for breakfast. I didn’t know when the last time I’d eaten was, and Damien was right—no matter what happened, I needed my strength. I put on a pair of dark slacks and a navy blue blouse, then covered my shoulders with a black suede jacket with metal buttons. It looked vaguely like a military jacket. I was done being pretty; I wanted to be more than just a decoration.

  I had a bowl of oatmeal with fresh butter, cream, honey and berries, and a few slices of bacon. Then I washed it down with a cup of coffee. Damien had gone to check on Penelope. I waited anxiously for word. Would he be able to save her? The large, empty table in the dining room made me feel small and useless, so I picked up my plate and headed into the kitchen.

  Claire and Annette were seated at a small round table. I squeezed in next to them, finishing my coffee. It was a tense silence, but I was glad for the company. After breakfast, I took my plates to the sink and began washing them.

  “You don’t need to do that,” Claire said.

  “Yes, I do.” I said. “I need to do something, or I’ll go crazy.”

  She nodded and took the dish towel. I passed her the dishes so she could dry them and place them on the shelf. We’d almost finished when I heard the alarms. Claire gasped and dropped the plate she’d been drying. It shattered on the ground. Instead of picking it up, she stepped over the broken pieces to look out the window.

  “What happened?” I asked.

  “The ash is stopping,” she said. “They must have turned the machines back on.”

  “What does that mean?” I asked.

  “It means they’ve caught the rebels.” Annette said from behind us. She waved her hands for us to follow. We headed to the front door where she poked her head out and looked up at the sky. Only a few flakes of ash were falling now, and soon they stopped completely. The painted X’s from the night before were bright red in the daylight, as people started emerging from their domiciles.

  Bells rang, cheerfully drawing people towards the center of the city. We joined in the crowds moving towards the palace. Most of the city were climbing the stone steps on either side of the waterfall, which curled behind the monumental statues lifting the giant platform. Annette steered me to the side, down a narrow alley, where a trolley system had been cut into the rock. We boarded a glass box, and a system of pulleys and cables pulled us up the steep incline.

  “Special access,” Annette said, showing me the keycard that operated the machine.

  We arrived at the back of the platform, close to the main palace. Hundreds of people were already gathering in the central courtyard. The palace entrance was lined with royal guards, in their bright red jackets, but today they were holding rifles along with the long sabers in their belts, and wearing the black gas masks instead of their normal faceplates.

  I saw Mary and Jazmine, and cut through the crowd towards them. In the center of the crowd was a large opening, and a raised wooden platform. Mary gave me a hug when she saw me, and Jazmine squeezed my hand.

  “Do you know what’s going on?” Jazmine asked.

  “They caught the rebels last night,” I said. “Maybe this will be the trial.”

  As if on cue, six figures were marched from the main palace towards the central square. Once they were all on the wooden stage, the guards removed the black bags covering their faces. I squeezed Mary’s hand tightly, expecting to see Trevor and Marcus, but breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t recognize any of the rebels. They must have escaped. Penelope was missing as well, however, and I knew she’d been arrested.

  A line of soldiers with large heavy steel shields formed a path from a gate on the side of the palace to the raised platform, forming a wide circle around the prisoners. Their armor was thicker and plated, and they were wearing metal helmets with masks that hid their faces. Each shield displayed the king’s image: the cup with the crowned serpent.

  “People of the kingdom,” King Richard’s voice boomed through the citadel. It sounded like it was coming from everywhere at once, and I finally saw him up on the palace walls, watching over us from a wide balcony. He was wearing a small microphone, and his voice was projected by speakers on all sides. Two large screens had been set up on either side of the palace, showing a live closeup. I looked for Damien but didn’t see him.

  “I would like to congratulate the royal guards for the swift execution of justice in finding the rebels responsible for the attack. The ash was unfortunate, and I am sorry you all had to suffer for the crimes of the few. I hope, as a community, we can move past this incident as quickly as possible. To that end, today justice will be served. Swiftly.”

  Two soldiers came forward with daggers. I held my breath, but instead of attacking, they cut the prisoner’s bindings. The men looked around warily, rubbing their wrists. Another soldier unrolled a burlap sack in front of them, revealing six gleaming swords.

  “What’s he doing?” Mary asked. “Why arm them?”

  “I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “Maybe he’ll make them fight?”

  “These rebels,” King Richard continued, “thought they would be better off without the covenant, without the compounds, and the protection that humanity has been offered under my care. Perhaps there are others among you who would agree. I thought today we’d have a demonstration. The rebels think they don’t need the elite; that they can take care of themselves. So we will give them a chance to do just that.”

  I heard the sound of metal on metal and looked towards the palace. A large gate was opening, and a massive, shaggy beast emerged from the darkness. It lifted its jaws, and a blood-curdling screech ripped through the crowd. I covered my ears, my heart thudding painfully in my chest. Several women screamed, and many of the citizens started running towards the edge of the palace mount. The slagpaw snapped at the audience, but the line of soldiers lifted their shields and pushed back, steering the creature down the row towards the centered platform.

  The slagpaw shook its head, then sprinted towards the prisoners. Three of the men grabbed swords and took a defensive stance. Two ran away, scrambling against the shields, which now formed an impenetrable wall. The last man knelt and lifted his palms in a silent prayer.

  I wanted to move, or look away, or scream, but it fe
lt like my eyes had been glued open and my limbs turned to stone. With one swipe of its claws, the slagpaw cut one of the men in half and sent his torso flying above the crowd, spraying them with blood. Then it bit off another man’s arm, after he’d swung at it with a sword. Blood spurted from the bloody stump where his shoulder had been, and he collapsed, writhing in a pool of his own making.

  The slagpaw pounced the third man, puncturing his heart and lungs with heavy talons. I was close enough to hear him groan as his ribs cracked and the breath squeezed out of him. Two of the remaining men attacked from the sides, stabbing into the beast when it was distracted. It howled, that nails-on-chalkboard screech that chilled my blood, and lifted its arms up and back, puffing out its chest and standing on its hind legs. At full height it was twice as tall as the men. They backed away uncertainly. The slagpaw growled and charged at them, smashing one into the row of shields so hard the soldiers behind them almost fell over. I wondered how much elixir they’d had, and how quickly it would run out. The beast slashed through the man’s abdomen, spilling his intestines, then turned and swung his fist so hard the last man sailed over the crowd and disappeared off the cliff, into the rising mist beyond the waterfall.

  The was a moment of silence, and I saw the beast’s aggression soften. It whimpered, licking its wounds. Then it approached the final man, who was still kneeling, with his eyes closed and his palms pressed together. It leaned down and sprayed him with foul stench, sniffing his hair. The man trembled, and the slagpaw opened its mouth, almost like it was trying to speak.

  King Richard jumped off the palace balcony, fell fifty feet into a perfect crouch, then sped through the crowd like a bolt of lightning. I heard a slicing sound and saw a flash of light, then the King was a dozen yards past the beast, his sword gleaming red. So slowly, I almost didn’t see it happening, the slagpaw’s head slid off its massive body, and rolled to the side.