by E. M. Knight
I hit her with a jab of vampiric influence. She wilts as easily as a flower beneath the force.
“Remember your place,” I growl in warning. “Now, tell me how you know what you claim you do.”
“The Crusaders… mutilate their children. The marks on my skull do not come from happy memories. There are forces beyond witches and vampires in this world. Having an affinity for sensing magic when it’s been done, for feeling the trace, is not unique to those with The Spark.”
I nod. “I accept your explanation. For now.”
“So, who raised the wards, then?” April asks. “And what do they do?”
Sylvia smiles at Victoria. “Ask her to go and see. She’ll know.”
I turn to face the short, blond-haired woman. “Are you ready to go inside?”
“I still think it’s a fool idea,” Victoria mutters. “But yes. Let’s see what we can find.”
“Excellent,” I say, and lead the way in.
I have to duck down to get under the first bush in my way. Then, seeing the opening so low to the ground, I drop to my hands and knees, with an irritated grunt.
I take my time crawling down the narrow path, cautious of triggering any of those latent spells Sylvia mentioned. I’ve seen the things magic can do, and, as such, am in no haste to find myself on the receiving end of any such anomaly.
Eventually the tunnel widens and opens up. I drop down past a ledge. My feet hit uneven dirt. I take a few steps forward, catching my bearings, and then turn back to watch the others file in.
One by one, they join me. I don’t think any are more comfortable being here than I am. There is a faint thrumming in the air, a sort of resonance just beyond the edge of hearing.
It’s slightly unnerving. Were I alone, I might even have backed out and come again only after I’d grow accustomed to it.
But now it’s imperative that I display the strength of a leader.
“Victoria,” I say. “Would you care to confirm what Sylvia said?”
The former vampire of The Crypts walks past me slowly. Her eyes are shut and both her hands are stretched out in front of her. She seems to be trying to feel the vibrations in the air.
“The currents are twisted here,” she says, her tone serious. “The Elementals are not in harmony. It’s like… it’s almost like they’ve been forced into this place and trapped here. The problem is…” she trails off. Then, in an abrupt gasp, she says, “Oh! They’re ancient.”
I step to her and take her by the shoulder, spinning her back to face me. “What do you mean by that?” I demand.
She gulps. “I don’t like this place, James. It’s unnatural.”
“Well, of course, it’s unnatural,” I snap.
She shakes her head. “No. It’s worse than what I expected. I knew this was the lair of a dark witch. But now, having been here… I think I can tell you exactly what that means.”
I almost feel the rest of the group perk up at the opportunity to hear her expand.
“Tell us,” I say.
“The magic here is kept inside by some sort of external force,” she explains. “Yes, I see it now. A regular witch wouldn’t be able to pick it up.” She looks at Sylvia, then Smithson. “It requires one who has the benefit of a vampire’s sensory perceptions. The distinction of the flows is too subtle for any human to realize. But I see it.”
“See what?” I growl. “Speak clearly, Victoria, you’re not making any sense!”
She clicks her tongue. “You know I’m trying to understand it at the same time as you,” she points out. “I’m just telling you what this feels like. And the currents here feel old. Older than any I’ve encountered before. In fact—” she bristles, “—I never even thought of the Elemental Forces as correlating to age. I thought they all existed as a continuous spectrum, like a flowing river. The stream doesn’t get old. But the constituent substance of it does.”
Sylvia looks to be deep in thought. “That could explain so much,” she mutters, half to herself.
I look at our newest-made vampire. “Would you care to add anything?”
She shakes her head roughly. “Not yet. Let’s hear what else Victoria thinks.”
I turn my attention back to the smaller woman.
“If Cierra was able to preserve herself here for so long, as a human,” she says, “she must have found some method of drawing on… on the vampiric essence that exists within the Elements! Of course, that must be it! The same one that give us life.”
“The vampire essence is what gives rise to magic,” Smithson interjects. “Yes, that we know. But to suggest that a non-vampire can make use of them?” He shakes his head. “Impossible. Even for Cierra.”
“You’re wrong,” Victoria challenges. “Cierra trapped the forces here, within her burrow. The skill, the dexterity that would require is unbelievable. Even if my Spark were as strong as Eleira’s I could never do it, even with my vampiric gifts! For Cierra to achieve something like that as a human…? It tells you all you need to know about how powerful a witch she is.”
“Is it so difficult?” I ask.
Victoria scoffs. “Think of the largest waterfall you know. Imagine the power contained in the currents, in the whitewater falls. Men harness that sort of energy in dams and use it to power vast swaths of populated cities. Millions upon millions of people get their electricity from dams a fraction of the size of Niagara Falls.
“Now, take all that power, take all that energy, and try to store it in a battery the size of your fist.” Victoria shakes her head in wonder. “It’s impossible. Yet that is the scale of what Cierra achieved here.”
Suddenly I feel very much discomfited standing within the underground lair. I don’t like to show, but the others also seem to share some of my unease.
“And the only way Cierra could have survived this long, as a human, without succumbing to the normal afflictions of age, would be to draw on all that power. You can relax, James. Most of it has been used up now.”
I try not to show my annoyance at letting my discomfort be so transparent.
Victoria turns to Sylvia and Smithson. “Your Order found Cierra here,” she says. “What happened to the witches who brought her out? I know the first died, but what of the others?”
“You’re right, in that she lost her mind,” Smithson answers. “She had to be put down. The others were more cautious. They survived.”
“How long did you have Cierra in the facility?” Victoria asks. “Fifteen, twenty years?”
“Less than that,” Sylvia says.
“So that means she would have been asleep here for hundreds of years,” Victoria murmurs. “She locked herself in here and used the Elements to prolong her life. Not only that, but she must have manipulated the flows of magic to create a pocket here that exists outside of time. That’s why the forces feel so old. They were brought in and sealed from their source in the outside world. At the same time, she drew on their power to give her body sustenance, much the way we do, as vampires, unconsciously. It’s… remarkable, really.”
“So where does that leave us now?” I ask. “She’s out in the world.” I turn to the others. “Do you still think she’s not coming back?”
“Let’s take a look around,” Victoria says. “I want to examine some of the objects left behind.”
She starts to go deeper into the cavern, when Sylvia suddenly calls out, “Careful!”
In a flash the bald vampire runs up to her and pulls her back. Victoria blinks, seemingly confused. “What…” she says. “What happened?”
Sylvia points a vine on the ground. “That’s one of the wards I told you of,” she says in a huff. “You nearly activated it.”
Victoria stares at her feet in something akin to amazement. “I… what?” She shakes her head. “Something’s wrong. I feel fuzzy.”
Concern grows in me for the smaller vampire.
“You’re being pulled in by the lure of the Forces,” Sylvia says. Her voice is grave. “The same thing that happen
ed to the first witch is happening to you. There’s a certain protective barrier… about the place.” She gestures all around her. “You’re more susceptible to it because of your enhanced senses as a vampire. You have to be careful.”
“Why, Sylvia,” Smithson quips, “I didn’t take you to be one with so much empathy for our captors.”
She fixes him with a nasty look. “I’m not the one bound in silver,” she says. She brings her hands out in front of her and waggles them in the air. “I have you to thank for converting me into this dreadful creature. So don’t think my loyalties are quite as certain as they once were.”
A smile creeps onto my face. I very much like this new dynamic between former conspirators.
“Can I say something?” Liana suddenly asks.
I nod for her to go on. She obviously needs my permission.
“I don’t know anything about vampires or witches except what I’ve overheard,” she says. “But it seems to me that this Cierra is quite accomplished. All of you speak of her with so much respect.”
“Yes?” I say, a little annoyed that she’s stating the obvious.
“I don’t see what’s so special about her,” Liana says. She flexes her hands. “How can any being other than a vampire stand up to the powers that these hands wield? The witch is still human, as you’ve made clear. We’re giving her far too much credit. You’re building a myth when none exists.”
“It exists, child,” Victoria says softly. “You haven’t been alive long enough to realize you’re not invincible.”
“Well, I feel invincible,” she mutters, giving me a sly look.
I shoot her a wink and turn my attention toward Victoria and Sylvia. “Just be careful, Victoria,” I say. “Let Sylvia guide you. She seems to understand this more. She did study these things while with the Order.”
Sylvia nods. “Thank you, James.”
The slightest undertone of mocking exists in her voice. I choose to ignore it.
Victoria bends down to examine the vine creeping along the floor. I notice that she does not touch it.
“Can you cross to the other side?” she asks Sylvia.
The taller woman hesitates for a moment and then nods. “I don’t think it would trigger anything.”
“Try, then,” Victoria says.
Sylvia pauses for a flicker of a second… then nods and does exactly as she’s asked.
I watch in fascination as the brands all over her skull momentarily light up.
At the same time a blue glow forms around Victoria.
Sylvia goes stock-still. Her muscles all tense. “What did you do?” she hisses. Rigidly, she turns around and faces the kneeling vampire. “Release me!”
“I’m protecting you,” Victoria mutters. She stands up and looks the other vampire in the eye. “Your crossing did trigger the ward.”
Fear shows in Sylvia’s eye. It’s replaced a moment later by steely determination. “What does that mean?”
“The currents swelled and tried to surround you,” Victoria fires back. “It’s a trap, don’t you get it? Whatever Cierra had here steals the power of other witches. You’re not a witch, yet you’re still attuned to magic, so the leeching morphed to draw on your vampiric essence.
Sylvia’s expression turns from one of consternation to concern.
“You’re welcome,” Victoria stresses.
“I wouldn’t have crossed if you didn’t ask!” she exclaims.
“This is ridiculous,” I mutter. Taking a few deliberate strides, I step over the vine and stop next to Victoria. I do a turn, then announce, “There is no danger for the rest of us. Shall we move on?”
Even though I frame it as a question I leave no doubt about exactly what I intend to do. While Sylvia and Victoria continue bickering behind me, I delve deeper into the cavern… and farther into the Black Sorceress’s resting place.
I round a corner and come to a carved out room. There are runes etched on the distant wall. Shelves built into the rock are littered with dust and grime.
The place has been excavated, as I was expecting. But then my eyes fix on a particular fixture on one wall.
I come up to it. It looks like a tiny, little keyhole. Easily overlooked and probably completely invisible to all but those who know where to look for it—or those gifted with vampiric vision.
I reach up and trace my fingers around the edge. The moment I do, a sharp jolt runs up my arm. I pull back immediately.
I manage to apply a neutral expression by the time the others join me.
“You’re an idiot, James,” Victoria chastises. “Running off like that. Who knows what could have happened!”
“Don’t tell me you’re starting to catch feelings for me,” I quip. She scowls.
“And I won’t tolerate that sort of disrespect,” I warn, in a more serious tone. “I’ve given too many allowances. It ends here.”
“Fine,” Victoria grumbles.
“What exactly are we hoping to uncover here?” April asks.
“Ask our fearless leader,” Victoria mutters.
I give them both a rueful grin. “Anything that will help us get Cierra on our side.”
Smithson chortles a laugh. “Victoria’s right,” he says. “You are an idiot. Did you not see what she did to the facility? Do you really think you can offer her anything we did not?”
“I don’t think she’d look too kindly upon words from those who imprisoned her, hooked her up to all sorts of machines like a lab specimen, and tried to expose her powers,” I tell him. “Unless I miss my mark…? That is what you did, yes?”
“The witch was meant to give us greater understanding of supernatural powers,” Sylvia says. “Hers was a fascinating case.”
“I think Victoria here gave you more information a few minutes ago than the sum of everything you extracted from Cierra,” I say.
“You might be right,” Sylvia hedges.
“So, don’t just stand around,” I tell the group. “Start looking! Anything here might prove useful. Whatever can grant us leverage, I want to see.”
While the vampires move to comply, I walk over to Smithson and take him aside.
“I know you think I’m wasting my time,” I whisper to him. “Your team already conducted a search of the premises when you discovered Cierra’s lair. What could you possibly have overlooked, right?”
Smithson looks at me but does not say a word.
“Truth is,” I continue. “We’re not here searching for anything to do with the Black Sorceress.”
Smithson looks at me with open disgust. “You want to play games? Now? I told you what you could do to me. I’ve got no influence here.”
“You know things,” I continue. “I’m going to give you a name. You will tell me if you’ve heard it before. Take it as a sort of… test. Of the thoroughness of the Order.”
“What name?” he asks.
“Mokko.”
He tries to hide it, but for a flicker of a second, his eyes widen. Just a little, and the reaction is covered up almost as quickly as it occurred… but I saw it.
I was watching for it.
“Never heard it before,” he bluffs.
I chuckle. “Right. Claim whatever you want. But I know that you know the legend.” I sweep my arm around us. “Mokko is the reason there are no vampire covens this far north.”
Smithson shakes his head. “Even if I have heard of that name,” he says. “And I’m not saying I have. But even if. So what?”
“Oh, I think you know very well what,” I tell him. “Mokko is key to subduing the Black Sorceress. You never considered the possibility before. But I have. I know it’s the only way.”
“You’re speaking of something less tangible than myth,” he says. “If the Order really considered Mokko to exist—”
“Ah,” I interrupt. “But you miss the point. I care not what the Order thinks. I know Mokko is real.”
He scoffs.
I look him dead in the eyes. “You doubt me?”
“Hard to trust a compulsive liar,” he says.
“I’m only telling you about Mokko to give you a chance to redeem yourself. Tell me what you know about Cierra. Give me all the information you have.”
He looks at me in open skepticism, then shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’re suggesting,” he says.
“On the contrary. I very well do.”
“Mokko is a myth,” he insists. “A myth passed down by generation after generation of tribes. Mokko is a story told around the campfire to frighten children. Nothing more.”
“You’re wrong,” I say. “I’ve encountered Mokko. I know for a fact it is real.”
“Mokko is a malevolent spirit thought to haunt the woods,” Smithson smirks. “You’ve encountered a spirit? I know better than that. My whole organization deals with the preternatural. Spirits are as real as pixies and werewolves.”
“Wrong,” I say. “Spirits are rare, but they are not less real.” I think back on Liana—my brother’s Liana, not the one I have with me now—and my heart gives an uneasy twinge.
I shove the memory deep and double down on it so it doesn’t bubble up again.
“Your Order doesn’t hold all the answers. If it were so capable—why, you would have never let Cierra get away, in that case, would you?”
“Your arrogance will be the end of you,” Smithson mutters.
“Yet it was your arrogance that kept me alive,” I say. “I’m much more capable than you thought. Aren’t I?”
Smithson doesn’t respond.
“The secret is,” I continue, “Mokko once revealed itself to—”
A startled cry behind me makes me cut off with a curse.
I look back. Sylvia is flat on her butt. Her jaw is slack, and she’s staring at the space in front of her as if she’d seen a ghost.
In a flash, I’m by her. “What happened?” I look around. Nothing has changed, nothing has been disturbed as far as I can see.
With an unsteady, wavering hand, she points out in front of her.
I look there. Her finger is aimed at a spot on the wall—the same spot that I’d picked out when I first came into the lair.
But there’s nothing there. Nothing has changed about it. I was half-expecting to see a magical glow, or some sign of the activation of the Forces.