Dancing Dragon

by Nicola Claire

  “So, with me so far?” He didn't wait for me to nod. “The Fey were able to strike up a bargain with Amicus, he helps 'em open the portals, they get one fey member across the divide and help 'im re-establish 'imself 'ere.” This I had managed to ascertain from Viktor. But I still felt there was something missing.

  “Why Amicus? Why isn't he actually dead?” I mean my own kindred vampire believed he had brought the final death to his sire some four hundred and fifty odd years ago. There's just no way of getting around that, unless you were full of magic, which vampires are not... or had magical aid. “The amulet,” I said with dawning understanding.

  “Exactly. He wears the taufr. The death charm. Or life charm, whichever way you wanna look at it. But, anyway, when he was supposedly given the final death, back all those years ago, it wasn't so final. He ended up in Álfheimr. Unfortunately, for 'im, the portals closed and even when he recovered over there, he couldn't get back.

  “Now, as impressive as tha' all is. There's more. Fey blood is toxic to vampires. So, Amicus had to either eat himself sick, or not eat at all, whilst livin' in fairy wonderland. How he has survived for all tha' time is beyond me. Now he's returned to our world and it seems he's not feelin' too great. What does a vamp do when they aren't at top speed? They feed. A lot. While he's doin' it, the Fey Prince is watchin' his back. It was 'im who overturned Boris. Made Amicus the top dog. Take out the powerful vamps in the city, then it's easier to protect your ward. Get rid of the Nosferatin and you have free reign over the innocents. But, Amicus won't need to feed at this level forever. Or maybe he will just keep on truckin', he's got a taste for it now. But, in any case, he won't need to. He'll be at full strength again. And then nothing can stop 'im.

  “He still wears the taufr. He won't be easy to put down. And, when he's back on track, he'll have to hold up his end of the bargain with the Fey. If he don't, that Fey Prince will have an answer to the taufr. They always have a counter charm. It's in their natures. They play both sides of any game, any war, whichever will get them wot they want, they back.”

  Arthur looked at me for a moment as I sat there taking it all in. It all made perfect sense. It all fit with what we had so far learned and seen. Amicus wasn't going to get easier to kill. He was only going to get harder. And with his help, the Fey would return. The thought of more of Lutin's kind running around claiming mœðrs and elskas all over the place, was downright scary. And then there were the Dökkálfa. Michel had said if the Ljósálfar returned, the Dökkálfa wouldn't be far behind.

  “There's one more thing you need to know.” Arthur's voice drifted down that tunnel of tumbling thoughts in my mind, bringing me back to the room. “The truth of the matter is this. They're not gonna need Amicus's help. They got you.”

  I stared at him blankly for a moment, then bit off a bark of a laugh. Not yet they don't. But, that's not what he had meant.

  “It's already started. The vinr, the vanguard, 'ave already crossed. Nasty little buggers with only one thing on their mind, making sure the way is safe for their fellow fey. More will start to follow. Your Light is powering the portals now. You're growin' stronger by the day, so are the portals. Soon, that Fey Prince won't even need Amicus, soon he'll only need you.”

  “How do you know this?” I asked uncertainly and unable to comprehend that any of this could be true.

  Arthur reached under the coffee table and pulled out an old leather bound book with strange symbols and writing in what looked like the language of Lutin's fey. He opened it to a well worn page, marked with a folded napkin as a bookmark. Along the edges of the Fey writing of the item he pointed to was a hastily written translation in English.

  Light and Dark are intertwined.

  Never to be parted.

  Dark will call to our kind.

  Light has already started.

  Now, didn't that sounded familiar?

  Chapter 36

  The Prodigal Son

  “What does that mean?” I demanded.

  “Well, there's a couple of ways to interpret it,” Arthur answered. “But, I see it as this: Light opens the portals. Now, we know it's your Light, because you're the brightest of us all. So, your Light calls them through the portal to our world and once they get 'ere, the Dark takes over the call.”

  That didn't sound good.

  “Then what?” I asked, starting to fidget in my seat.

  “Tha's easy. They are called to the Dark then, so there's really no need to keep the Dökkálfa imprisoned any longer, is there?”

  Shit. Not good at all.

  I looked at the leather bound book sitting innocuously on the coffee table between us. It looked old, very old. For all I knew, it was ancient. But, could it really be talking about me? Did it really have any answers or was it just some stupid fairy tale book; make believe. And Arthur just happens to think it applies to me. To right now and what's happening with Amicus, Lutin and the Fey?

  “Where did you get this book? What makes you think it applies to me?” I asked, giving the book in question a hard look.

  “It's been in my family for generations.” He turned the book towards me and pointed the top of the page we had been looking on. “Look at this 'ere,” he said in his gruff cockney accent.

  At the top of the page was another translation and this one was very familiar indeed.

  The Light will capture the Dark

  and hold it dear.

  My eyes flicked back up to Arthur. He held my gaze for a second, then said in a quiet voice, “Not all of the prophesies inside 'ere have come true. But, if you read back over the past few years; decades, centuries, even millennia, about 80% of 'em 'ave. Tha's a pretty high score, tha' is. Especially as this 'ere book was written before mankind's documented history and the Fey found an open portal to our world.”

  We both stared at the ominous, prophesy laden, ancient book. Him with awe, me with a little contempt. I really should know better than to scoff at supposed prophesies. Hell, I'm part of a prophesy, what right have I got to say these weren't true? But still, come on! How much of our lives could be predicted and directed by simple words on a page?

  My eyes caught another passage on the same page as my Prophesy and the new Light and Dark intertwined one. I don't know why it captured my attention, but I couldn't help leaning over and reading the small, uneven, scrawled translation in the margin.

  His Light to her Light

  Mixed together in sacred rite

  Will create longed-for life.

  "What's this one all about?" I asked, tapping the passage in question.

  Arthur leaned forward and spun the book back towards him, scanning the words, brow furrowed.

  "Oh, tha'. We think it has somethin' to do with the Ljósálfar Royal Court. Maybe a joining between the Ljósálfar and the Dökkálfa. In any case, it's believed to be intricately related to Álfheimr." He waved his hand in a dismissive movement. "It don' concern us. Not all of the prophesies in this book are abou' us." I wasn't so show sure about that, it seemed remiss to overlook something on the same page as our prophesy. But, if Arthur thought it was to do with something in Álfheimr, I'd just have to go with that. I had no intention of ever finding myself in Álfheimr, so hopefully I'd never know if this one comes true.

  He sat back in his armchair and let out a long sigh, forgetting the sacred rite passage altogether. “Luce,” he said softly, “this fey prophesy about the Light calling to the Fey, it was written for our time. When the Nosferatin prophesy you belong to was meant to be activated. I had 'oped it would be one of the prophesies that don' come true, but the prince of the Fey is 'ere and I've seen the vinr. It's started and you, my Nosferatin friend, are slap bang in middle of it all.”

  I sighed. Fuck. Not again.

  There wasn't much more that Arthur could tell me. No other prophesy or prediction that he could see in the Fey book that would impact what was happening now. I tried to be relieved at that fact, but the truth was I was reeling. I had always thought the Nosferatin
prophesy, I was part of, was just that. Nosferatin. That we wrote it. That someone on our side predicted we would fight back and balance out the Dark and Light in the world. But, to think that it came from Álfheimr, was just foreign. I couldn't wrap my mind around it.

  The evidence was there for all to see, packaged in a more-than-ancient, worn leather-bound tome. I thanked Arthur for his help, said goodbye to the Nosferatins - promising to keep in touch and keep them up-to-date - and left. Michel was standing across the road, out the front of the Allders department store entrance. If he had been waiting in the car, he had come to meet me as soon as I left.

  The reason for that was obvious when I crossed the street to greet him.

  “I heard it all. I listened to your thoughts. I hope you do not mind, ma douce,” he whispered against my forehead, as he leaned in to kiss me.

  I didn't have the energy to repeat it all, so it was actually a relief that he was up to speed. But, the look of compassion on his face was too much. I didn't want to believe I could be responsible for the Dökkálfa being released on our world.

  “Just because it is predicted and your Nosferatin friend has interpreted it one way, does not necessarily mean it is so,” he said softly, as he wrapped an arm around my shoulders and led me back to our parked car.

  Once again it had been a long night and dawn was not too far away. We made a beeline for Michel's house and found that most of the vampires had gone out to feed, leaving only Christopher behind, who quickly whipped up a hot chocolate drink complete with marshmallows, on our return. I drank in silence as Michel conducted a little business over the phone then gratefully let him lead me upstairs to bed.

  As the shutters whirred down into place and I felt the presence of several more vampires in the house, I fell asleep in the arms of my kindred knowing tomorrow night things were going to change.

  I didn't sleep well. Dreams haunted my slumber. Despite Michel's comforting presence beside me in the bed, I felt so alone. For some reason the world seemed bleaker in my dream-scape. Real, but Dark. I couldn't shake the feeling that we were at a crossroads. I'd had a few in my relatively short life and I was familiar with the feeling of confusion and fear they created. And also, with the devastation often left in their wake.

  Nut had talked of crossroads with Gregor, many centuries ago. When she had arranged for him to be turned from a Nosferatin to a Nosferatu. She had said we all have them. We all must choose left or right at some point in our life, but despite the grave consequences of those choices, we always ended up where we are meant to be. The fatality of that thought is just so stark. We have choices, but they don't affect our fates. They just make getting there unpredictable. And from my experience: harsh.

  I woke with the foreboding feeling that tonight would be a crossroads I would regret. That sense of anguish went right through to my soul. Every breath I took as I showered and dressed - mechanically - brought that anguish to the surface. Like blood welling up through the fractured flesh at a deep cut. It seeped over my body and ran down my skin.

  Michel sensed my misery, hell he could probably hear my thoughts. But, he said nothing. Just constantly touched me in passing - a stroke of his fingers here, a brush of his hand there - and watched me with curiosity as we prepared for the sun to set.

  Christopher had made me a Toad-in-the-Hole for dinner. I couldn't even muster the effort to be amused at its title when he explained what he had placed before me on the table. Sausages in Yorkshire pudding batter, covered in a thick layer of gravy. I'm sure it tasted lovely. I wouldn't know. My taste buds had decided to desert me. Along with my sense of humour.

  When the shutters whirred up and away, indicating the night had truly begun, I felt like that Toad was trying its damnedest to get out of the Hole. I spent a good deal of time in the bathroom, thinking the closer I was to the toilet bowl the better. Up-chucking in the front room before a group of uptight vampires was not a good idea.

  Either they had picked up on my mood, or they felt the same way as me. The air tonight was heavier. The shadows darker. The night a bleak black hole waiting for us to enter. The vampires were jittery, which didn't help my mood. The only consolation was that Michel was not coming with us. I could tell this pained him, but staying away was vital.

  By 11.30 I was beginning to think Amicus was not going to strike. Hope welled inside me, but I refused to let it blossom. I couldn't allow myself the luxury of relaxing. Always stay on guard. Never give an inch. I paced the upstairs landing waiting for that pull, despite the empty minutes ticking by noisily on a Grandfather Clock in the corner.

  Finally, it happened. And I felt... relief. This I knew. This I understood. The hunt. I took a deep breath in and walked down the stairs. Avery met me at the bottom.

  “Are you in my head?” I asked, as I stepped off the last tread.

  “Am I not always, Ms. Monk?” He'd taken to answering my questions with a question lately. I wasn't sure if it was an avoidance thing, or just him being a pain in the butt. He did like winding me up.

  I sighed and walked past him to poke my head in the front room, finding Michel with my eyes. His familiar indigo and violet eyes met mine and held me captive for a moment. Then he flashed to my side. His hands came up and ran down my arms; a comforting gesture. Then one warm palm grasped behind my neck and he leaned in and kissed me passionately.

  “Be safe, ma douce.” He knew. He felt it too. Tonight was different and I couldn't figure out why.

  Avery and I left, Antonio and Ricardo taking to the shadows. Sergei and Nataliya following in our wake. Samson hanging back some distance, but close enough should we need him. I'm not sure what Alain and Daniel were doing, but they remained in the house when we left, with Michel.

  I kept rubbing my chest as we ran through the streets towards that pull. I couldn't ease the pain that had settled there. An empty ache that I felt right through to my bones. If I'd had a choice to ignore the pull, I think I would have. To hell with the lives of four more humans, something was just not right. I sent a silent prayer up to Nut and received a surprising jolt of Light back in return.

  It was such an unexpected response, so out of the ordinary, that I stumbled. If it hadn't been for Avery's hand on my elbow, righting me, I would have hit the pavement face first. He didn't say anything. Maybe he was in my head. Maybe he felt the Light too. But despite its soothing intent, Nut's Light only confirmed my worst fears.

  We found them in a small dead end street. Tall, multi-storied orange brick buildings, with white trimmed windows and wrought iron railings at each one, lined the street. Both sides dwarfed by the behemoth houses. Late model BMWs and Audis, Volkswagons and Range Rovers lined the sides of the road. There were no shops or restaurants, no late night bars. The street was empty of foot-traffic, the houses quiet, as though they existed outside of this realm.

  Amicus stood at the end of the cul-de-sac draining his first human. In the middle of the street like he was centre stage at some West End performance and we were the audience come to applaud. Lutin stood to the side, slightly in shadow. Three more humans lined up waiting to offer their blood to the monster. I couldn't sense any other vampires nearby and if there were fey, then I didn't know.

  We hadn't tried to hide ourselves, we just simply rounded the corner of the street and flashed straight toward them. Lutin casually raised his hand in a motion that indicated relaxed ease, which was soon followed by slight confusion and then increasing alarm. My Tego Texi Tectum duo were doing their job.

  Amicus hadn't noticed and just kept on drinking his supper down.

  I took the opportunity to spin to his side, barely aware that Antonio and Ricardo had emerged from the shadows and were surrounding Lutin. I'd lost Avery during the spin, but I knew he wouldn't be far. I could see the amulet, the taufr, glinting in the low lights of the street, around Amicus's neck. I had expected it to be large on a thick gold chain. Kind of like an Italian Mafioso's flashy jewellery. All brass and no class. But it was small, about the size of fift
y pence piece and shaped like one too. A hexagon, no bigger than 30 millimetres in diameter. But it was thicker than the coin would be, almost as deep as it was across.

  It was also attached to what looked like a leather cord, not a metal chain. That would make it easier to remove. I knew in order to kill Amicus, to really bring him the final death, I needed to get that Amulet off. That had been Avery's job, but he still hadn't reappeared. So, because I found myself within striking distance of the ancient vampire and because I didn't want to miss the opportunity of his distraction, I reached for the leather cord with my left hand, while I went in for the strike with my right.

  The silver of my stake flashed in the lights and Amicus raised his head from his meal and snarled. My hand wrapped around the leather cord and pulled. I could feel the strain of the material beneath my fingers, see the marks it began to leave along his neck where it chafed and then before he had even managed to drop his dinner and raise a hand in defence it snapped free.

  I was momentarily surprised at how easily it had been removed. For some reason I had expected a little more resistance. I mean, this is a fey artefact, a talisman awash with the magic of Álfheimr. But it came away in my hand like plucking an ever so slightly resistant leaf from a tree. I'd made sure I hadn't touched the actual amulet, I thought perhaps touching it wouldn't be a good idea. But my hesitation to touch the object I was reaching for was enough to make me pause with my downward stake strike and give Amicus time to react.

  He stepped towards my body, over the discarded form of the human at his feet, into the the tip of my stake. He angled himself so the stake went into his shoulder and not his chest above his heart and he wrapped a cool hand around my throat with casual ease. My right hand left the stake where it was and reflexively came up to pry his fingers at my throat free.