by Noah
As the pages came together as one, Caitlin could not believe what she saw. Each page showed one half of an ancient shield, sun rays coming off of it, shining. As she lined the pages up together, Caitlin realized it could be none other than a picture of the ancient vampire shield.
All around the picture were Latin words. As the pages lined up, the sentences were now complete. Words, previously torn in half, now fit together, letters matching each other perfectly.
She turned and looked to Caleb. His eyes open wide as he read.
“It’s a message,” he said, as he scanned the page, reading again and again. “An instruction. It’s telling us where to go next. Our final destination. To find the Holy Grail. The final key. And the ancient shield.”
He stopped and looked at them both, and Caitlin awaited, breathless, her heart pounding.
“It reads: the Grail awaits in Dunnottar.”
CHAPTER THIRTY THREE
Blake could not comprehend the sight unfolding before him. It was one thing to see a vampire army approaching. That was shock enough. But it was quite another to see McCleod’s men—the human warriors they had grown to love and to trust—betraying them, attacking them. There was no doubt about it: Blake could see from the scowls on their faces, from the way they were charging, that it was an ambush.
Blake stood on the roof of the castle, with Aiden’s men, other vampires he knew and loved—
Taylor and Tyler and Caine and Barbara, and scores of others—along with the dozens of other vampires in for the wedding, and knew that there cause was hopeless. They were terribly outnumbered, and the enemy had the advantage of surprise, speed, and superior weaponry. Blake looked around, and wished he saw Polly or Sam somewhere, wished that Caitlin and Caleb were back. But none of them were. They were left on their own, to fend for themselves. The few of them left on the castle rooftop against the thousands of warriors closing in on them by land and by air.
Blake was not a pessimist, but he knew a hopeless situation when he saw one.
Still, he prepared to make his stand. He would certainly go down fighting.
But first, he had other priorities. He looked down and saw Scarlet standing there, beside him, and knew that his first order of business was to protect her, to get her out of here. He had to get her far away from the bloodshed that would ensue. Certainly, she would be a casualty otherwise. He also wanted to get her to Caitlin, to have her give her the message that they needed help. That just might save them all. But regardless, more than anything, he owed it to Caitlin to save her only daughter.
Blake jumped into action. He reached down, scooped up Scarlet in one arm and Ruth in the other, and lifted them into the air. He flew away from the oncoming army, over the tops of the human warriors, into the thick mist, then down low into the treetops, where he knew he could lose any pursuers. He flew with all he had, wanting to get Scarlet safely on her way and then get back to help the others.
“Where are you taking me?” Scarlet yelled, struggling, as they flew.
“To safety,” Blake yelled back.
“But I don’t want to go!” Scarlet argued. “I want to go back to the castle! And help you guys defend it!”
Blake was taken aback by this child’s fearlessness. In some ways, she reminded him of Caitlin.
But still, he could not give in. Despite her warrior spirit, she would certainly die in any ensuing battle.
Blake soon reached his destination: an ocean beach, on the far eastern side of Skye, down beneath the cliffs. He dove down a cliff he recognized, and aimed right for the rowboat he had stored there, in a cave. He landed right before it, and wasted no time placing Scarlet and Ruth inside the boat.
It was a long, seaworthy, wooden rowboat, with a small sail, and looked like a miniature Viking raiding ship. Blake had used it many times, taking it far out to sea on long voyages. He had liked to sail by himself, late at night, when the ocean was completely empty, letting the waves lap at the boat, and looking up at the moon. He liked to get as far away from others as he could, and let his thoughts wander alone.
Now he could put the boat to good use with Scarlet and Ruth. He could send them off, towards Caitlin.
He leaned over, held Scarlet’s shoulders, and looked her in the eye, firmly, mustering all the intensity he could to try to convince this strong-willed girl.
“You are a brave little girl,” Blake said. “You are fearless. I know that. And there’s no other little girl in the world that I would ask to do this. But I know you’re special. I know that you can handle it. Am I right?”
Blake had sensed her pride, her fearlessness, and he wanted to appeal to it.
He was happy to see it work. She lifted her head up tall, proudly, and nodded her head solemnly.
“Good,” he said. “I’m sending you on a voyage, to your mother and father. You have a special power, a special bond with them. The sea will take you right to them. If you focus. Use your power.
Close your eyes as you sail, and let the universe guide you to exactly where you need to go. You are a powerful child. You can make it happen. Can you do that for me?” Scarlet nodded back, but seemed unsure.
“But what if it takes me to the wrong place?” she asked. “What if I don’t end up near my Mommy?”
“You will. You could end up in no other place. The vampire connection is too strong. Only focus on her. And don’t let go.”
Blake was about to turn and go, when suddenly, he remembered something. He reached into his pocket and extracted something he’d been meaning to give to Caitlin for centuries. He took Scarlet’s little hand, opened it, and placed it in her palm.
Scarlet looked down, eyes open in wonder.
It was a small piece of sea glass. A piece of the sea glass he had given her centuries ago, in Pollepel.
“Please give it to her,” he said “and tell her I will always love her.” And with that, Blake suddenly leaned down, grabbed the hull and give it a huge heave into the ocean. Within moments, the small sail caught, and the current took the boat out, already far from shore.
Blake saw Scarlet stand in the boat and look back at him, fear momentarily crossing her eyes.
Blake raised a fist into the air, holding it up high over his head. It was a gesture of confidence, to tell her that she could make it.
After a moment’s hesitation, Scarlet raised her fist in the air, and returned the gesture.
Blake turned, took three strides, and leapt into the air.
Now he had a war to wage.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
Blake raced back to the castle, flying faster than he ever had, eager to get back and help his people. Now that Scarlet was safe, Blake turned all his attention towards helping the others.
As he reached the castle, he looked down and saw complete mayhem: it was an all-out war, as hundreds of vampires battled each other below. His people were terribly outnumbered, attacked from all sides, and Blake was crestfallen to see that, with the battle barely begun, several of his people were already dead, their bodies thrown over the edge of the castle.
Simultaneously, Blake could see there was another battle going on below, on the castle grounds, before the entrance. This battlefront was being led by Kyle and by McCleod. Together, they were relentlessly killing all those who tried to flee. It was an ambush, and there was nowhere to go.
It was all happening so fast, at vampire speed, in the blink of an eye. As Blake flew for just a few seconds, debating where best to land, he already saw so many things happening at once: on the rooftop, he flinched as he saw Rynd step up and murder Taylor, stabbing her in the back, and through the heart, as she faced off with other vampires. He heard her scream, and watched her life force depart from her.
At the same time, down below, Kyle stepped up and surprised her twin brother, Tyler, putting his sword through his heart, and killing him on the spot. Blake was breathless. The two twins, who he had known and loved for centuries, now dead in a matter of moments, killed at the hands of Rynd and Kyle.
In the same instant, McCleod charged on his horse, up behind Barbara, swung his axe, and chopped off her head in a single blow. Aiden’s men were being wiped out faster than Blake could even take in.
There were a few signs of hope. One of them was Samuel, Caleb’s brother. Blake watched in admiration as Samuel fearlessly fought off hordes of Kyle’s men, down below. He seemed to be as good a fighter as his brother, and few vampires were able to get close to him.
As Blake watched, Samuel faced off with McCleod. They each drew long swords, and a crowd gathered around to watch. Their swords clanged, left and right, as they faced off, swung and parried.
Neither gave an inch, both seasoned veterans, and for a moment, it seemed as if it might end in a stalemate.
But then, suddenly, Samuel spun around, holding out his sword, and in an unexpected move, he surprised the King, and in one quick motion, he chopped off his head with his silver sword.
For a moment, the body remained in place; then, it slumped and collapsed to the ground, and his head went rolling. The crowd of McCleod’s men let out a horrified gasp, too surprised to react.
As Blake watched, he saw Sera suddenly appear, out of the shadows, waiting for her moment.
She stepped up behind Samuel with a silver dagger, and raised it high. Blake could see that she was about to plunge it into his neck.
Blake sprang into action. He dove down, aiming right for the dagger, using every ounce of his will to get there as fast as he could. He sped through the air, hand out, and reached it at the very last second. As the tip of the knife was a millimeter from Samuel’s neck, Blake managed to grab Sera’s wrist, and tackle her to the ground.
On the ground, wrestling with Sera, in the thick of all the fighting, Blake felt himself get kneed hard in the solo plexus. Sera had managed to lift her knee, and knock the wind out of him.
Blake rolled on his side, and before he could catch his breath, he found himself kicked in the face by several other vampires, falling on him like ants.
But Blake also noticed that Sera had dropped her dagger, and in one motion, he managed to roll over, snatch it, roll one more time, and then take a knee and throw it, hoping his aim was perfect.
It was. Sera had not expected it, and the dagger lodged perfectly in her throat. Seconds later, she collapsed, eyes wide open in shock. Blake watched her fall, finally, dead.
But Sera and McCleod were but minor victories. Blake was still terribly outnumbered, as was Samuel, and with every passing second, dozens more vampires pounced on them. Blake found himself getting kicked and punched left and right.
As he stumbled back, trying to fight off ten men at once, trying to catch his breath, the other vampires suddenly parted ways for Rynd, who now faced off with him. Blake squared off, while at the same time, he noticed that Samuel, several feet away, was squaring off with Kyle.
Blake went blow for blow with Rynd, using long swords and shields; but he was no match, he knew, for Rynd’s evil power. Rynd was too well-rested, too fast, too strong, too treacherous. And Blake could see, out of the corner of his eye, that Samuel was not doing much better. Kyle had him, too, on the ropes.
Blake felt himself losing with each passing blow, and knew that it would only be a matter of minutes until he, and Samuel, were both dead. He only prayed that his final moments could be his most valiant ones on earth.
Suddenly, Blake sensed a disturbance in the crowd. There was a murmur, then agitation, and then he noticed scores of the enemy start to run, to scurry away.
Blake could not understand what was happening. Until finally, he saw what it was.
Approaching the battlefield was Caitlin’s brother. Sam. Blake could not believe it. He had never seen anyone look so embittered, so vicious. He didn’t even recognize him. Sam looked like a man possessed, like he had been to the depths of hell and back. He fought with a power and courage and ferocity that Blake had never before witnessed. He sliced through vampire after vampires as if slicing through butter, leaving a trail of dead bodies in his wake. He was cutting his way through the crowd, and heading right for Rynd. And he had a deadly vengeance in his eyes.
Not a moment too soon for Blake. Rynd brought down a vicious blow, right for Blake’s head, and Blake held up his own sword with two hands, blocking it. He held the sword at bay, just inches from his face. But Rynd’s sword was inching lower, and Blake knew that he had but seconds left to live.
But that was all he needed. Sam cut his way through the crowd and reached Rynd just in time, kicking him so hard that Rynd went flying like a ragdoll across the field.
Blake, grateful, wanted to thank Sam. But he saw that he couldn’t: Sam’s face was like that of a wild animal, not even recognizable, and Blake felt scared just looking at it. In fact, Blake wanted to run, and knew he should get out of Sam’s path. But he was frozen in fear, and he had to see what happened next.
Blake looked over and saw that Rynd, upon looking up at Sam, was terrified, too. He never thought he would see a creature like Rynd be scared of anything—but the look on Sam’s face had done it to him. Blake wondered what could have happened to Sam to make him like this.
And then he remembered: Polly. Sam was on a path of vengeance.
Sam took three huge steps, and raised his sword high, right for Rynd.
Rynd held up his own sword to block it, but Sam brought down his sword with such power that it cut Rynd’s sword clean in half.
Rynd, shocked, looked up at his own sword in wonder.
Sam then leaned back and kicked Rynd’s wrist, sending the hilt of his sword flying, and in the same motion, kicked Rynd hard in the chest, sending him flying back and crashing into the stone wall of the castle.
Without missing a beat, Sam stepped up, grabbed Rynd by the hair, and smashed his head into the stone wall repeatedly, again and again and again. Rynd was helpless in Sam’s grip.
In moments, Rynd was near dead. But Sam was not finished. He hoisted Rynd up high over his shoulders, and then in two leaps, he jumped to the top of the castle parapets. Blake was shocked. It must have been at least a hundred feet, yet Sam did it effortlessly. Then Sam jumped, holding Rynd, off the roof, and aimed right for the huge lance implanted at the entranceway. He impaled Rynd’s body through it, right through his heart. Rynd’s body slid all the way through the lance, down to the base, killing him instantly.
Rynd’s body sat there, impaled on the lance for all eyes to see, as Sam stood over him.
But Sam wasn’t done yet. Whatever rage was driving him hadn’t been satisfied. Sam looked left and right, snarling, like a wild animal ready to kill anything in its path.
Seeing the look on Sam’s face, Blake finally summoned the courage to flee, and he saw that Samuel did, too. All of Rynd’s men were fleeing, too, as were all of McCleod’s men. Apparently, with their leaders dead and a monster on the prowl, none of them wanted to linger any longer. They fled into the sky, over the lake, back from where they’d come, and they could not move fast enough.
Within moments, the entire battlefield had cleared out.
Except, that is, for Sam.
And one other: Kyle.
CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE
Kyle had been having a field day. He hadn’t had this much fun in centuries, slaughtering Aiden’s men left and right. It had been a route.
It had been especially fun stabbing Taylor through the heart, watching her die slowly at his feet.
These silvertip weapons were the strongest and most effective he had ever wielded, and after killing Taylor, he had killed a dozen more vampires in just a few minutes. He was covered in their blood, and he smiled widely, beginning to feel himself again.
Their plan had worked perfectly, and Kyle knew that in no time, they would wipe out every last one of them. They had them surrounded, outnumbered, and it had been a slaughter fest. Rynd’s shapeshifting trick had worked, as Kyle knew it would, and that girl Polly had been stupid enough to fall for the bait. Now, there was nothing left to stand in his way. With all of these
vampires dead, it would only be a matter of time until they cornered and slaughtered Caitlin and Caleb.
Kyle’s latest victim, in his sights, would be Samuel, Caleb’s brother. Samuel was strong, but he was too outnumbered, and beaten down, and Kyle had him on the defense. The more they fought, the more confident Kyle became, and Kyle knew that in just moments, Samuel would be finished.
That was when the disruption began. Kyle didn’t understand what was going on, but suddenly, all of their men had begun fleeing, running for their lives, as if scared of an incoming attack. And just as Kyle had been about to plunge his sword into Samuel’s chest, that was when he stopped and saw it.
Kyle turned and was amazed to see Sam, Caitlin’s brother, approaching the battlefield like a madman. He had never seen anything like it, anyone fighting so quickly, so powerfully. It was like a whirlwind. Kyle had seen rage throughout the centuries, but he had never seen rage like this. This was the rage of a creature that had nothing left to lose. That wanted to die.
Sam was a one-man disruptive force. He was slaughtering Rynd’s men as if they were dolls, and as Kyle watched in horror, Sam squared off with Rynd, and within moments, killed him, impaling him on that lance.
That was when everyone else on the battlefield fled. Everyone. Even Aiden’s men. Sam was clearly not distinguishing between good and bad. He was simply killing anything and everything in his path.
For a moment, Kyle thought about fleeing himself.
But then he decided otherwise. Kyle had enough of running. Now, he figured, was time to stop and fight. To make a final stand. If Kyle was going to die, this was the time and place he wanted to go out. After all, he had vowed to make this time and place his last, had vowed that if he couldn’t kill Caitlin and her people now, then he would die trying. There would be no more chasing, no more going back in time for him.
And now it was time to die trying.
*
Sam approached the battlefield in a rage so white-hot, he could barely see, barely distinguish what he was doing. Sam had never experienced anything like it before: his rage was so consuming, so overwhelming, he felt it lifting him into its grip, taking him over as a force of its own. He couldn’t control it if he tried.