“Tempus Fugit?” I came out with, remembering a similar description about a secret place I’d discovered in the library at Bloodline Academy.
“Those are just portals from the mortal realm into small pockets of the supernatural realm,” replied the Blood Countess. “After my darling Esmeralda was tossed into the fire during a witch hunt – started by a Crystal Witch who wanted all the power to herself – I became disembodied. I wasn’t dead but the very blood-bond that Esmeralda and I had shared, became unpredictable after her untimely death.
“I weakened and after a while got displaced from my body. While my physical form was dressed and bandaged for preservation and interred, exactly under the stone crypt on which you lay, my spirit became trapped between two worlds. Aramastus Nadasdy is my late husband’s first cousin. He’s been an immense help to me all this time.”
The same Principal Nadasdy who stood by and watched Kellum Bathory force my mom to die, I thought angrily. My anger dulled my anxiety, which the Countess was completely oblivious or rather, indifferent to. She continued: “My husband, Ferenc, never really thought much of him,” the Countess reminisced and a slight smile played across her face, “Ferenc Nadasdy was known as the Black Knight of Hungary. He always wanted his cousin to join him on the battlefield. But that wasn’t Aramastus. His idea of expansion was very different – it was about focussing on politics and young, Sanguine minds.”
“St. Erzsebet’s Academy,” I interrupted before I could help myself.
“Yes, eventually. Ferenc met his end in battle – pierced through the heart by the sword of the enemy under the harsh, burning sun. Do you know the cruel irony?” asked the Countess, not really looking for an answer. “The man who killed him and even most that fought alongside him, never even knew he was a vampire. Aramastus approached me after my husband’s demise and vowed to assist me in any way he could.
“He has been one of my most loyal subjects throughout the centuries, expanding my empire in my absence and keeping me apprised. Until the time was right and a few in my inner circle were able to see the bigger picture and realize that you were the key to my resurrection,” the Blood Countess smiled gleefully, “your blood is comparable only to dear Esmeralda’s.”
So, there was no denying it. I had walked into a huge set up and single-handedly brought Elizabeth Bathory back into the mortal realm. This went far beyond the bitchy drama with Pearl Quartz and even all the crimes that Kellum Bathory had been responsible for. It was my blood she’d needed all along and Nadasdy must have had an inkling but Vincent Whitlock had been sure. As evil as he’d been, Kellum Bathory had been nothing more than a wildcard. “I thought Principal Nadasdy was in trouble with the Sanguine Guild?” I managed, able to draw in only a series of shallow breaths. I needed to slow down or I’d end up hyperventilating at the worst possible time ever.
“Optics, my dear,” said the Countess, “neither the pesky Supernatural Light Alliance and nor some rather deceitful vampires will look where they need to, if they’re distracted by the insignificant details of your escape from the New World under Principal Nadasdy’s watch.” The Countess watched me intently as I struggled to process what I was hearing. “I will soon be declaring The Guild obsolete,” she elaborated, “it came about with neither my consent and nor my wisdom and now that I’m back, I’m the only one who shall preside on matters of a Sanguine nature. My own creation is the Dark Legion and that shall thrive, once more.”
“Why are you sharing this with me?” I asked fully expecting her to lunge at my throat. When she said nothing, I added, “Esmeralda Quartz was a powerful Crystal Witch who only practiced light magic.” I wanted the last part to be true if nothing else was. I had been led and misled so many times in my life that I’d lost count. But the one story I’d believed over all others was the one told by the Silver Shadows about Esmeralda Quartz and her life. For some reason every part of my being needed Esmeralda to have been the kind-hearted witch I’d believed her to have been. My face must have betrayed me because Elizabeth Bathory guessed what was troubling me with uncanny accuracy.
“I called her Esme, affectionately,” she said. “We shared blood freely and she was the only being I never had the urge to kill.”
“From what I’ve been told, you drank just enough of her blood that she didn’t die,” I couldn’t help but point out. What did she mean that they shared blood freely? It hadn’t been a two-way exchange – it couldn’t have. Could it?
“Of course, she didn’t die!” stated the Countess firmly, with offense in her voice, “She freely gave me enough that it satisfied me. She saved many a peasant from an untimely death because human blood never could compare to the sweetness and youth of hers. We cared for each other deeply, she wasn’t some prisoner here.” The way she said it sounded sincere and like a forewarning.
“What made the two of you friends?” I asked, wondering what was wrong with me. Did I really need answers so badly that I was willing to risk my life for it? The answer was yes.
“She was the only one who ever understood that both light and dark have an equally legitimate existence. Esme allowed me to be who I was by continuing to be who she was and do what she did. And her light made my darkness even darker.”
“The Dark Spark,” I said remembering the necklace bitterly.
“Ah yes, it was a beautiful gift from Esme, soon after we met,” mused Bathory, smiling nostalgically, “it gave me such power. But my feeling is that because she gave me her most precious commodity, her blood, I had access to her magical abilities in a way that far strengthened my own dark gifts.”
“But she cursed the necklace as she was about to die,” I said about the Dark Spark, raising my voice without meaning to, “it was what Kellum Bathory used as a weapon to kill my mom.”
“It’s true, she did curse the necklace,” said the Countess, unphased by my revelation, “it was her final act of service to me. She cursed it because she knew that without our blood-bond, my future would be uncertain. I was surrounded by predators. She didn’t want some power-hungry rival of mine to take the Dark Spark and use it so that my dominion would be lost to me forever.”
I sat there speechless. Esmeralda Quartz, the greatest Crystal Witch who had probably ever lived, had apparently been so lonely and outcaste by her own kind, that she’d willfully made a deep kinship with one of the darkest supernatural beings in existence. And yet there was also the side to her that had spurned the Silver Shadows. Why was nothing ever simple?
“And now my dear, there is the matter of us,” said Elizabeth Bathory, standing up and hovering over me ominously.
“I’m not Esmeralda,” I said instinctively, springing to my feet.
“My tongue can attest to that. Esme’s blood carried only light – it was almost effervescent. Yours is the most gorgeous symphony of light and darkness, intermingling with the beautiful potential to bring forth anything under the stars. Together you and I will rule the world.”
“But –,” I began.
“Look at the sky, day is almost upon us,” the Countess cut in, “I must get my beauty sleep. Blood is vital but it is not the only thing that keeps me young, you know!” As soon as she’d said it, another young woman who was dressed like a maid from a very different time, appeared to take Bathory to her room, I assumed. “Until nightfall my darling! Of course you won’t try anything because I’ll easily find you through the blood-bond you have with your lover – Vincent Whitlock’s son,” Elizabeth Bathory blew a kiss in my direction with an expression that sent chills down my spine and she walked away down a hallway, her eerie footfalls echoed throughout the wing, like those of a predator who would surely be back.
Chapter 24
I quickly learned, from an English-speaking young brunette woman named Caroline, that the staff who were being kept as maids throughout Cachtice Castle were humans who’d been trafficked and used as free labour and even blood lets against their will. Only a few of the more prominent ones spoke any Hungarian as most were from a
range of neighbouring countries like Romania, Poland and Bulgaria. They reminded me of the humans who’d served at Bloodline Academy in the way that they scurried around in the daytime, cleaning and polishing, leaving only the order that they brought to the place as a sign of their existence. It was disgusting and made my blood boil, making me wish I could help them.
Caroline had watched me from afar as I’d paced a hole in the floor near the window where Elizabeth Bathory had revealed snippets of hers and Esmeralda’s life to me. She was a beautiful girl-next-door brunette from England, who’d run out of money and ended up in what she’d believed was temporary room and board at the castle in exchange for work. She hesitantly approached me, asking if I needed a room to get some sleep.
At first, she had been understandably apprehensive to speak to me about anything else as she knew I was a vampire and was familiar with the infrequent visits from the students of Cachtice Academy and the havoc they wreaked. I pictured Lilith and her buddies being prime suspects and assured her that now that things had changed so drastically, students from the academy would be unlikely to jeopardize their futures by getting on the wrong side of the castle’s owner. After my reassurance Caroline was keen to speak to me about how weird vampire life was. It seemed that although she’d initially been excited to get up close and personal with the supernatural, the allure was quickly wearing off.
“You look exactly like that woman in one of the portraits,” she said after we’d chatted for about five minutes. “It’s this ancient painting hanging in one of the castle’s discretely located parlours.”
“Can you take me to it?” I asked, reasoning that there was the slightest possibility that the nooks and crannies that held Esmeralda’s portrait, might reveal something that could help me devise a plan to get out of here and help Valenthia escape her indeterminate state at the same time.
Caroline nodded silently and I followed her through to a spacious hallway whose walls were lined with what I assumed were Bathory family portraits. Each figure was an intimidating spectre and I couldn’t see myself in any of them. The otherwise vapid stone floor was covered with tapestry woven in emerald and ruby tones that had remarkably survived well over four centuries. At the sides of the hall were postured various hollow metal figures, composed entirely of knight armour that had been battered in many conquests. I wondered if all of those who had once donned this medieval garb had been vampires, forced to ward off human armies in droves during the day?
I needed a plan of escape that wouldn’t involve getting Moldark tortured or killed even if he had brought this upon himself. I messaged Safi but the poor girl must have been out cold as it was so early and she’d always been someone who’d needed her sleep. I was suddenly very grateful to her for all she’d done for me. It went beyond that she’d been burning the midnight oil a lot recently. She had forsaken her own mother to help me put the memory of mine to rest. Pearl Quartz would very likely disown her for this. And yet, she’d come.
We passed several other areas, similarly styled in lavish furnishings from the era when Bathory had last ruled. I concluded that because of the general dreariness of the place, no matter how old or new the décor, the castle would have presented with the same air of dread and oppression that it did. Being a fan of gothic legends, Safi would have loved it but I crossed my fingers that she’d never have to see it.
Caroline ushered me towards the entrance of the parlour and glanced at me anxiously, “Please, if anyone asks, don’t tell them that I brought you here?” she asked with pleading in her voice.
“I promise I won’t,” I replied, wanting to add that she should leave and get as far away as she could. If I’d have had any money, I would have insisted she take it to aid her escape. I would have done the same for all the girls working there. Or more accurately being held captive.
After Caroline disappeared, I ventured inside and paused at the sight that met me. The entire space was like a treasure trove with the most fascinating trinkets bursting from each corner. Naturally, my eyes went straight to the portrait that was front and centre on the opposite wall. I gazed astounded at the two subjects. One was Esmeralda Quartz, resplendent against the glowing silver backdrop of a full moon. Her hand was outstretched, reaching for the hand of the other subject – Elizabeth Bathory. The Countess was painted against a contrastingly dark landscape that only hinted at the slightest shards of light that were supposedly being infused in by the moon on the other side. My hope that her closeness with Esmeralda Quartz was a myth Bathory had concocted to keep me here, crumbled before my eyes. Did the Silver Shadows know about this implausible friendship? With great reluctance, it also came to me that these two women held deep within them, the entirety of my heritage.
I surveyed the rest of the room, not sure what I was looking for but wanting to take it all in. I tried not to impulsively touch anything as there was a high chance it might be laced with dark magic. And if it was, the magic would have been extremely potent due to age alone. There was another full suit of knight’s armour. It looked stealthier and more regal than the ones lining the hallway. There was a small rendering on the wall behind the armour, of the man who’d once worn it. He was depicted holding his sword up valiantly with something round, like a pumpkin, skewered on the end of the long blade. I took a closer look. It was a head. Underneath the painting it said: Ferenc Nadasdy. This was Bathory’s late husband, the Black Knight of Hungary. I shuddered thinking of the notorious couple they must have been.
“Are you there?” asked Safi’s voice inside my head, startling me.
“Yes, sorry, I thought you’d be asleep,” I replied.
“Lady, Elizabeth Bathory is back – the time to sleep is over!”
“I know,” I agreed, “what did Principal Silverstone say? How about Professor Frewin?”
“They’re right here with me,” Safi filled me in, “so are Ulric and Natalie and Rhonen, Principal Silverstone’s daughter – Samantha and…well you get the idea. We’re all here. Anyway, Principal Silverstone is going to talk through me now.”
“Alright,” I said, not having a clue what to expect.
“Kat, Principal Silverstone’s asking the most important thing, are you okay?” came Safi’s voice.
“Yes, I’m fine, don’t worry,” I replied.
“Safi told me you’re being held in the ruined tower of the castle at Cachtice.”
“I was,” I answered knowing how ridiculous it would sound when I said I was walking around the castle in freedom and privacy as all the vamps were lying in their designated places in and around me, basically dead to the world and yet I hadn’t tried to leave. I explained to Safi that I had ventured from the castle’s Great Hall into a much smaller parlour, as well as why I hadn’t escaped the minute morning had come. Safi conveyed what I had said and there was silence.
“Okay, Ulric is saying that this forced blood-bond better not be with who he thinks it is,” came Safi’s reply, although she already knew, “and he thinks you should just leave. Who cares what happens to him?”
Great, I had completely forgotten about that. I held myself back from dipping into Ulric’s thoughts because I knew exactly what they were. I didn’t need a first-hand experience of their extent. “I can’t leave knowing what his fate will be,” I protested. More silence. I spotted a small desk to one side and walked across to it. There were innumerable ancient, leather-bound books piled sleekly in one of the deep drawers. I reached out and took one, turning it over in my hand.
“Kat, Principal Silverstone is saying she’ll be forever grateful to you for Kellum Bathory’s demise,” came Safi’s thought, “and she’s asking if you think it would work if Professor Frewin and the Silver Shadows storm the castle in the next hour and come get you. That way, you won’t have to escape.”
“That won’t help,” I replied, thinking of how I hadn’t been the one to kill Kellum Bathory anyway, “and the Sanguine Guild and the Dark Legion will use the blood-bond to make sure Moldark leads them straight to me
and as a result, to all of you,” I said, opening up the book. The pages were as fragile as pressed flower petals. The writing was very elegant and although parts had faded into nothingness, many pages were still legible. At first all I saw were what appeared to be names and numbers. There were dozens, no, hundreds of them running down the yellowed pages.
“But Professor Frewin is saying there has to be a way!” Safi’s thought crashed into the edges of my mind but my own thoughts failed to form coherently as I looked upon the inky renderings that covered the later pages in the book. My stomach lurched as I saw the detailed sketches of the horrific torture that the Blood Countess had carried out on her victims and recorded in excruciating detail. She’d included how long each person had survived her torment before she’d invariably drained every last drop of their blood. The drawings went on and on and I glanced at the drawer realizing with a new sense of disgust that each such book detailed the same thing. The room felt like it was starting to spin and I struggled to pay attention as Safi impatiently called out to me from inside my head. I wondered how many members of staff Bathory’s castle currently employed. They needed to be vacated before tonight or I knew in my bones that they’d suffer the same fate as her faceless victims, forever trapped between the pages that outlined the roadmap of her cruelty.
“You guys need to get here. And bring as many Silver Shadows as you can,” I finally replied.
“Wow, great turn-around!” said Safi, quickly conveying it to everyone at her end.
“You need to listen to me carefully,” I said, gripping the desk to support myself, “there are a bunch of mortals working in this castle. Most of them are here against their will and we need to get them out before sunset or one by one, Elizabeth Bathory will kill them, I know it. I’ve found a ton of these – I guess they’re her records from the last time.”
Sanguine Spell Page 25