Dominion Rising: 23 Brand New Science Fiction and Fantasy Novels

by White, Gwynn

  He might as well tell them. They were probably all thinking about it in one way or another. “It’s just questions I have. Why would Thalia take the body of that guard away to stop anyone examining it, but otherwise make a huge spectacle at the zoo? What is she doing with all the things she’s stealing? What’s her endgame?”

  Lila added a question of her own. “And what the heck does she want with an elephant?”

  “That too,” Girard agreed. “I’ve got more, but I really don’t have answers to any of them. That just makes it hard to figure out if I’m asking all the questions I should.”

  Marcus plopped back in his seat, then stared as a big semi passed them, shaking the car in the way they do. When it pulled ahead, he said, “Maybe she thinks it’s a war elephant.”

  “A what?” Lila asked. “You mean like they did in ancient times to scare enemies?”

  “Yeah, sort of. I mean, the last time she was running around free, that still happened. Not often, but it did. I remember this asshole who brought a couple of them to pull his chariot during his Triumph. What a dick! They didn’t fit through the gate. It was hilarious.”

  Lila’s mouth dropped open while he spoke, her eyes taking on that greedy look only a historian’s could achieve when they were narrowing in on a juicy morsel of the past. Girard couldn’t help except smile at her expression in the rear view. She shook it off—though it looked like it took real effort—and said, “Never mind that. That can wait. You think Thalia would really do that? I mean, she’s in the thrall of a new body and not thinking very clearly. Do you think she’d be that stupid?”

  Marcus’s lips twisted up as he considered, then he said, “No, I don’t. Not really. It was just a suggestion.”

  Borona gave voice to what Girard was thinking. “Then we’re back to square one. Why steal an elephant?”

  The dashboard on the car beeped an upcoming turn and Girard looked. They were getting close. “We’ve got maybe twenty minutes till we reach Yadikira’s.”

  Silence fell over the car as each considered their immediate future. The Council had been hard to sway, but in the end, they saw reason. Based on the media storm about the video—which was so far being ruled as some sort of special effect video for purposes unknown, the unfortunate guard getting the blame for it—it would be natural for the Guardians to investigate. A newly risen ancient that suddenly dropped out of sight would be a natural place to start.

  If Thalia was in contact with her daughter, or in some other way monitoring her activity, then a visit from the Guardians would not be amiss. It shouldn’t give away that they knew what she was up to, but it also might provide a great deal of information. If nothing else, Yadikira could expand on what they knew of Thalia and potentially clarify her current state of mind.

  Marcus watched another semi pass, his lips parted in wonder. Then he frowned and said, “I wish we could have flown. I want to do that. This body did it several times, but only for treatment and he was sick. I’d like to do it with a healthy body to experience it for myself.”

  Lila patted his arm affectionately and said, “I’ll show you what it looks like when we get imaged and then you’ll understand why we have to drive most of the time. Not every airport has such scanners, but the ones out here do. And if we get diverted, we could find ourselves stuck. Driving takes longer, but it’s safer.”

  Marcus only grunted, then plastered himself to the window when they passed a large pasture dotted with horses. “That’s some beautiful horse-flesh! Such animals! Can we ride them?”

  Girard shook his head at how easily Marcus was diverted. Being in a new body was a trip, and Marcus was seeing so much for the first time. The screen on the dash flashed his upcoming turn to the country estate where Yadikira lived. After making the turn, he said, “Okay, behave yourselves. There are a few other places on this road, but we’re almost there.”

  They passed a few other very large homes, almost rising to the classification of mansions. Most were used by various executives or the high-powered in business when they weren’t churning for money like sharks in the city. The whole area was quiet and almost deserted feeling. Most of these houses would only have staff in residence the majority of the time. Yadikira’s house came into view and Girard felt his heart thump heavily at the sight of it. He wanted to see her again, talk to her, listen to her soft and measured voice.

  He wished very much that this could be a social call.

  As they parked, he turned around to look at Marcus. “You know what you’re supposed to say, right?”

  Marcus waved his hand impatiently. “Of course, baby Guardian. I’m happy, not stupid.”

  20

  Josette once again answered the door, but this time that impassive composure of before was absent. Perhaps it was because she’d met Girard previously, but he didn’t think that was it. Her expression was still calm, but tinged with worry, her eyes a little pinched in concern at the edges.

  “Is everything alright?” Girard asked, even before she could greet him.

  Josette let out a tight breath and said, “Kira is ill…Yadikira, I mean. I wanted to tell you when you called to say you were coming, but she wouldn’t let me.” She glanced at the others with him. “What’s going on?”

  He had to stay on script and keep calm, but it took effort not to push past and rush to Yadikira’s side. If she was ill and in that body, then she was in grave peril. She needed to switch. But giving voice to all of that wouldn’t help them, and despite his personal feelings, they had more important concerns than one vampire in an aging body by her own choice.

  “This is Lila, Historian with the Guardians. Borona here is my apprentice Guardian. And this is Marcus. He’s actually an old acquaintance of Thalia’s and had hoped to see her.”

  Josette looked Marcus over, but her curiosity wasn’t one filled with pleasure. It was clear she either hadn’t liked Thalia or didn’t like what she knew of her. Even so, she waved them inside and said, “She’s very weak and not up to a lot of visiting. I’ll bring you up, Guardian, and she can decide if the rest can come up.”

  “That’s fine.” His anxiety rose again at the thought of her being weak. How weak? Was she past the point of taking a new body? To the others, he said, “Wait here for me, okay?”

  Josette led him through the vast, empty rooms, but this time toward a staircase laid in stone. Each step rang in the bare space, another design element meant to warn of approach. Perhaps sensing Girard’s urgency, she stopped him at the top of the stairs and leaned close to whisper, “She won’t take a new body and she’s going to die soon. Please try to talk to her. I can tell you feel for her. Please try.”

  He nodded, but could barely talk past the lump in his throat. Josette’s face was filled with emotion, no hint of that former impassiveness remaining. “You’ve known her a long time?” he asked.

  “She’s the reason I was able to keep going during my own crisis.”

  Girard knew how closely the bonds forged during such times often were. He laid a hand on her forearm and whispered, “I’ll put in an order for a body to be delivered. Perhaps if there’s one here, then she’ll see sense.”

  “Thank you. This means much to me and I won’t forget it.”

  With that, she led him to one of the many closed doors off the landing and knocked quietly. Yadikira’s voice was so small a human might not have heard it, almost nothing save breath. When the door opened and he saw her, Girard felt like his stomach might fall right to his feet.

  The bedroom wasn’t huge, but it was larger than most vampire sleeping quarters. The furnishings were very modern and spare, but elegant. Sunlight streamed through sheer curtains and bathed everything in a hazy, soft light. Windows were almost never found in a vampire’s bedroom because they were so easily breached. What those surprising windows illuminated was Yadikira, so small and shrunken that she looked no bigger than a child tucked into a too-large bed. Her face was so pale it seemed almost gray against the white pillows.

 
; “Girard the Guardian,” she whispered, then lifted one frail hand from the blankets.

  “Yadikira,” he answered, stepping forward to take her hand.

  Josette moved a chair from the corner so that he could sit next to the bed, then looked at Yadikira. Whatever silent communication passed between them, it was enough for her to say, “I’ll leave you alone, but I’ll be right outside the door.”

  He wasn’t sure how much of that was a warning and how much of that was worry, but he smiled gratefully anyway. When the door closed behind her, he looked down at Yadikira.

  “You risk too much.”

  The wrinkles on her face multiplied when she smiled and she squeezed his hand weakly. Even her hands were colder than they should be and he noted blue-ish notes in her fingernails, indicating poor circulation. She was dying.

  “Girard, I have been alive for almost four thousand years. I have lived more than long enough. The world turns too quickly for me now.”

  The number shocked him. Such a lifespan seemed impossible to him. Then again, Marcus seemed shockingly ancient to Girard, and he acted like an eager youngster. No matter the number, whatever years she had behind her weren’t enough.

  After all, he’d only just met her.

  She couldn’t leave so soon. While it might surprise humans—or maybe it wouldn’t considering how many romantic movies featured love at first sight—vampires were often sudden in their attachments. Some said it was chemical, something they put off that another vampire somehow sensed, but it was heresy to reduce vampire affections to base chemistry. Whatever the cause for it, he’d been struck by it when they sat together in that memento-filled room. It wasn’t love, but a draw so strong it had weight. Should he simply say what he felt? It seemed presumptuous, but at the same time necessary. Younger vampires didn’t speak to elders this way, but if he didn’t, he might not ever have another chance.

  “Perhaps this life seems long enough to you, but I only just met you and that’s not enough for me. Sadness and loss are our lots in this life, but we also carry all that is gone forward into time. We keep the memories and lost worlds alive inside us. Memories are the price and the prize.”

  Her eyes twinkled a little at his words and she asked, “Guardian, are you flirting with me?”

  He smiled broadly. “Definitely.”

  A tear tracked down her temple to disappear into her hair. They were silent a moment, then she said, “This isn’t why you came. I can tell. I heard other voices below. What do you need from me?”

  “It’s true, though I would have taken any excuse to come. It’s about your mother.”

  Yadikira withdrew her hand from his and sighed. She looked up at the ceiling, her eyes going a little flat, the hurt she felt at being abandoned evident in the lines of her face. “She left. She always leaves.”

  “Did you hear about the video?”

  She nodded. “Josette showed it to me. I didn’t recognize the vampire, but it was one like my mother.”

  Girard had to wonder about that. If Thalia was a Dumper, then was Yadikira? And if not, why? He couldn’t help his gaze straying to the covers pulled so tautly over her, though he was embarrassed that he was looking for the outline of two fleshy pipes. She must have read it in his face, because her mouth twitched up in humor and her pillow rustled a little when she shook her head.

  “My other mother—father, I guess—was like all the rest of us, and that is who I took after. It was a grave disappointment to Thalia and she didn’t have much to do with me. I was raised by the Handmaidens, as were most of the other vampire children at the palace. I knew some of my siblings, though not all by any means. The only ones I ever knew to have dealings with Thalia were those like her. And that vampire on the video is exactly like her. As strange as it sounds, I’ve never seen her feed before, nor anyone like her. I didn’t know it was like that.”

  “So you understand why we’re here?”

  “Of course. Such things can’t be permitted out in public. The thing is, she knows that too. She’s very confused, but she knows that. She understands how to use technology quite well because of her body. I’m not sure what’s going on with her and when I saw that video, I worried too. I just don’t know where she found another one like her. I didn’t know they existed anymore. Well, I didn’t know she existed anymore. Until she showed up at my door, I’d thought she’d gone to dust while sleeping.”

  Girard wasn’t sure how much he should share and how much he should keep back. If Thalia returned, the last thing they needed was for her to know that she was being hunted. And Yadikira was still Thalia’s daughter, so she might feel compelled to warn her. Thalia had at least one other vampire in company that was like her in a biological sense, which meant it was not a simple conflict with one vampire angry at everyone. Instead, they would be tangling with an unknown number of very old vampires.

  He decided to walk the middle of that line; not too much information or too little. And nothing about the fires. In her current weakened state, it might be too much for her to take.

  “That’s one of the things we’re here to ask you about. The Council is concerned that her long slumber may have harmed her and I’ve been sent to investigate. It’s important that she not be so public. The Council is offering aid.”

  That made Yadikira’s eyebrows rise and she said, “Such an offer wouldn’t be welcome. Thalia hasn’t changed for all that sleeping. She sees current vampires as weak, almost an insult to their original forms. The body she’s in isn’t helping that. She’s even more erratic and angry than I remember her. The girl must have been filled with bitterness and fury.”

  Girard nodded. If Yadikira figured that out simply by observing her mother for a short period, then there was no harm in confirming it. “We did investigate the body and yes, it appears the girl’s illness made her less a saint and more of an angry sinner. Bitter would be a good description.”

  The pillow rustled as she shook her head, her pale lips pursing. “Yet another problem. As old as Thalia may be, she’s very inexperienced in some ways.”

  That didn’t seem at all likely to Girard, but he wanted to hear what she meant. Any information could wind up being valuable. “In what ways?”

  Yadikira’s eyes unfocused as she looked up at the ceiling, losing herself in her memories…the ones she now found too great a burden to carry forward. At last, she said, “When I was little and all the way through till she went to Egypt, the bodies she took were well prepared for the taking.”

  He couldn’t help the look of surprise on his face. Prepared? He’d never heard of such a thing. “Please explain.”

  She smiled at him and said, “You Guardians have always felt that you knew much, but the truth is that vampires are as varied as humans, just as likely to be swayed by vanity, just as prone to developing quasi-religious beliefs that comfort them. When I was born, there were Handmaidens. They’re almost like nuns of the modern era, only much more coddled. I was born from one of their bodies. They spent their whole lives being prepared and hoping to be taken by Thalia. They were educated, exceptionally well-cared for, somewhat cloistered, and all of them hopeful.”

  Girard made a noise of disbelief. “Hopeful of having their mind replaced by a vampire? I can’t see that.”

  “No, you misunderstand the times. Life was short. The idea that one could live in perfect care inside a palace, dressed beautifully, with servants to do everything from dress your hair to wash your body to feed you delicacies…well…that’s a strong lure. And they were trained almost from birth. The education these girls received was superior to any other in the world at the time. They were intelligent, fine conversationalists, physically strong, and graceful. In short, they were trained to be rulers in every way such a person can be trained. And they thought Thalia was a goddess. To become the body of a goddess and give birth to another goddess was the ultimate prize for them. It ensured immortality.”

  Girard tried to imagine that, but even though he had been born into the f
ourteenth century, which seemed a primitive time now, it was still vastly better than a few thousand years before. Knowledge had come more slowly, but it came. He supposed it would be like the humans in the villages nearby being offered life in the King’s Palace. None of them would have turned such an offer down, not for their children.

  “I think I understand,” he said.

  Again she shook her head and gave him a small smile. “No, you think you do, but you don’t. For at least a thousand years and probably for much longer, Thalia took bodies only from the Handmaidens. In essence, she was taking the exact same body over and over. The minds inside had been trained the same, educated the same, entertained the same. They even dressed the same. What I’m saying is that Thalia never had to learn to choose a body carefully. For her, what’s in a body is already a mirror of her thoughts—”

  “So, unlike one of us, who might recognize the aberrant thoughts of a body and work to choose a new one, she simply adjusts to the mind present?”

  “Exactly. I spoke to her at length, offering to intercede with the Guardians in obtaining a new body, but she only grew angry. Even for Thalia, such a level of anger at a kindly made offer was odd. She is entirely in thrall to that body. She will not see reason. I think her kind of vampire is different from us in more ways than just our shape. I think they are less capable of pushing their will into the mind of the body they take. I think they are…and please forgive me for being uncomplimentary…emotionally and mentally weaker than we are. I think they are more like the human they take than we are.”

  “She wouldn’t like to hear you say that.”

  “Which is why I hope that can remain between you and I.”

  He nodded. “Of course.” After thinking for a second, he said, “In a way, that makes sense. They are physically more aggressive, using humans as prey and harming them during feeding. It is more brute force and less assimilation. Our form is less brutal, creating no harm while feeding, and allowing the human to forget the experience even though they enjoy it—”