“Shouldn’t we send word for the gold guards to come up here and assist us?” I asked, worried I would not be on top of my game since I was still recovering.
“They won’t get here in time,” Kalon replied. “Besides, between the two of us, I reckon we’ll be able to take them down.”
“Oh, the tavern people will definitely help, as well,” Jayan added. “Once they see Aeternae like yourself, milord, standing up for us, I’m sure they’ll willingly pitch in.”
I had to agree with Jayan’s theory. I also hoped the adrenalin of such an encounter would dim some of the pain in my leg. Glad to have Kalon by my side for this, I allowed myself to feel pure excitement at what was bound to be a most troublesome covert operation. The Darklings played foul. But, in spite of my injury, I had some aces up my sleeves too.
It was about time that they got their asses handed to them.
Esme
With everything I’d learned about the Aeternae so far, I had to admit, there were more shades of gray than I’d initially expected. In a way, it made sense. After all, this was an old civilization, with millions of years spent learning, developing, making mistakes, mending them, then making new mistakes. It seemed like a constant process of self-discovery, and I had a feeling they had yet to find their limits.
I would’ve liked to visit one of those elderly sanctuaries, just to fully grasp exactly how old age played a part in the mental degradation of these people. Were they kept there for their own safety, or for the safety of everyone else? I’d tried to bring it up with Kalon during our brief trip to Mamie’s tavern, but he’d repeatedly changed the subject, making it clear that he didn’t want to expand on the topic.
Patience, I thought, was my most precious tool in this instance. My mind was still fuzzy regarding the Zoltan incident, so I waited, sometimes breathlessly, for news from my brother. They’d gone out with an army convoy to look for the former chief councilor, and I knew Tristan would be in touch via Telluris as soon as they found something. In the meantime, Kalon and I had some Darklings to catch.
Mamie’s tavern was an interesting building, to say the least, made entirely out of wood. The windows seemed shoddy, but the glass was painted in different colors. I imagined it looked beautiful on the inside, especially during the daytime. The façade was whitewashed, while each window frame was coated in a soft red, like the slated roof. Smoke billowed from the tall and crooked chimney, a swelling charcoal column dissolving into the dark blue evening sky.
The sun was long gone, the reddish haze thinning to make room for the full moon and its stars. I had yet to fully understand how the spell worked, but I welcomed its presence while on Visio, since it made it slightly easier to walk in the daylight.
Vision horses were left to drink water from a trough on the tavern’s corner. The innkeeper had left some hay and freshly cut grass for them, as well. The horses had simple leather saddles on their backs, with animal hide satchels tied on both sides, likely belonging to those currently inside.
A mandolin-like instrument played within, the lazy rhythm wafting out onto the battered road. Kalon and I looked at each other before going in.
“We should pull on our hoods,” he said. “We’re obviously not from around here.”
“Too well-dressed for the locals, huh?” I chuckled.
Kalon nodded, slightly amused. “Pretty much. Besides, I’m not comfortable with every rogue ogling you while we wait for the Darklings to show up.”
“I take it you find me beautiful enough to draw the interest of the local Rimians and Naloreans?”
Was I fishing for compliments? Or did I just want to hear Kalon tell me I’m beautiful? Both options seemed more or less the same, since this really wasn’t about my vanity, but rather my silent desire to understand where I stood in his eyes. Was there something between us? Or was I just fooling myself?
“You’re beautiful enough to start a war and end it, too,” Kalon replied, his eyes searching my face as he inched closer. “Now, put your hood on and let me do the talking. We’ll need a couple of drinks in front of us while we wait for the mongrels to show up.”
I giggled. “Okay. But if the barkeep is good-looking, I can’t guarantee I won’t hit him up.”
Kalon smiled and covered his head. I followed suit, and we crossed the threshold. Inside, it seemed like an entirely different world. While forests and a lonely road reigned supreme outside, the village of Tromb just one mile south of here, glumness and mead seemed to dominate within the tavern’s walls.
I spotted the stairs leading up to the inn rooms. The bar was a couple of yards to its left, occupying an entire wall. It was a modest place, with raw wooden furniture and seemingly uncomfortable benches, but there were plenty of people killing time, most of them in dusted leathers and scraggy linen blouses that had seen one too many summers.
There were plenty of satchels and bags at their feet—the majority of patrons were clearly travelers, moving from one village to the next. I counted ten Rimians and five Naloreans, along with the tavern’s barkeep and maids. Kalon stopped at the bar, asking for a pitcher of blood.
“If you have any, of course,” he said slowly, not wanting to draw much attention to us.
The barkeep measured him from head to toe. “We don’t get many Aeternae around here,” he said. “And when we do, they usually bring trouble.”
I heard the screech of a blade moving underneath the counter. My heart jumped, and I quickly joined Kalon, wearing a lazy smile. “We were hoping we might get a room for the night, as well,” I said. “We’re on our way to the imperial city, running some errands for our mistress.”
The last thing we needed was conflict or having to explain ourselves. The fewer people were aware of who we really were, the better. And if that meant Kalon and me posing as lovers on the road, then so be it.
“One room?” the barkeep asked, raising an eyebrow at me.
Kalon stiffened as I slipped an arm around his waist, pulling myself closer. “Oh, yes,” I replied. “We’ve had a long journey, and trust me, the only trouble we’re looking for is the kind involving one double bed.”
I felt Kalon’s eyes on me, my face burning, but I kept my gaze fixed on the barkeep, hoping to drive my point home and get us off the suspicious local’s radar.
“It’ll cost you five gold coins. Or fifteen silver,” the barkeep said at last.
“That’s fine,” I replied, finally looking at Kalon. It took him a second to react, but he eventually fumbled through his pouch and produced six gold coins, which he handed over to the tall and slender Rimian.
“Add a pitcher of blood if you have any,” Kalon mumbled.
The barkeep exhaled sharply. “I have a couple of Serry goats out back. We keep them for the milk and cheese, but I reckon we can draw some blood from them.”
“Not too much, though,” I said. “Just a pitcher. And make sure you feed them extra greens tomorrow to help them replenish.”
“Give them legumes, too. It’ll work wonders,” Kalon advised the barkeep, who gave us both an appreciative nod.
Handing us a brass key with a numbered piece of leather attached to it, he motioned for the tables behind us. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll bring the blood over to your table.”
“Thank you,” I replied.
“No, no, thank you. A gold coin is enough to buy me another Serry goat. You’ve been most generous.” The Rimian chuckled.
Kalon and I picked a corner booth—the darkest in the entire tavern, from what I could tell. I made myself comfortable, though there was only so much comfort I would get out of the hardwood bench. Checking my pockets, I made sure I had the invisibility pellets and red garnet glasses handy. I’d already given Kalon some, as well, just in case we had to… disappear.
“That was very bold,” he said after a while.
“What was?” I asked, my mind scattered all over the place. Snippets from Zoltan’s attack were trying to come back to me, but I couldn’t quite grasp them yet
. The missing pieces were important, but too big and deeply buried in my subconscious. It would take a while before I put the whole picture together, but I still wandered toward it, sometimes.
“The room. Though I doubt we’ll be using it, since we’re here to hunt Darklings,” Kalon whispered, his blue eyes piercing through me. I felt tiny and naked, an insignificant and vulnerable blip in the fabric of the universe, whenever he looked at me this way. “Unless, of course, you were serious about that double bed.”
“Oh. No. No.” I chuckled—though it sounded more like a snort from where I sat. “No, no, no, no, no. I mean, not that you’re not handsome enough to… you know. It’s just that… You’re right. We’re hunting. Not… You know. Sorry, I seem to have misplaced my words.”
Pressing my lips into a tight line, I waited for him to say something, anything that might draw the conversation away from what was clearly a dangerous angle. My pulse was racing, mischievous ideas swirling through the back of my head.
Kalon smirked. “I wouldn’t want our first night to be inside this tavern. I envision a slightly more elegant interior.”
I wasn’t sure if that was a joke. Was he serious? Or was I wading out of reality again? I said nothing, hoping he might clarify what he’d just said, but the barkeep came to our table with a pitcher of fresh blood and two glasses.
“Here you go,” he said.
“Thank you,” Kalon replied, watching him walk back to the bar. He took a few minutes to study the people currently drinking and eating in the tavern. Maids went in and out of the kitchen through a creaky door, carrying ceramic plates and bowls filled with nice-smelling foods. I caught whiffs of barbecue platters, seasoned vegetables, and tangy stews, among other equally enticing flavors. Eating was one of the few things I truly missed about being a human. Blood was delicious, of course, especially when enriched with various spices, but I would’ve paid big bucks to be able to dig into some mashed potatoes and gravy.
Esme. Back to reality.
We spent the next couple of hours talking about the Darklings’ raids on these villages. We both agreed that it was time to put an end to it all. Kalon admitted that he’d heard rumors, but that he’d never gotten the names of the places that the Darklings targeted. He did promise he’d raise the issue with Corbin Crimson, since Zoltan had obviously kept the entire issue under wraps to benefit the Darklings.
By midnight, the pitcher was empty and some of the people had left. Others had come through, hiding under their hoods, looking for shaded areas to sit in, much like Kalon and me. I knew it was only a matter of time before the Darklings came in, as well. I wondered if the strangers here might fight them or just let them do their thing. I tried to put myself in their shoes, and I came to a stark conclusion: if these patrons cared for their lives, they would keep their distance.
“You seem worried,” Kalon said at one point.
“I guess I’m a little nervous. This is the first time I’m actually looking forward to facing off with a Darkling or ten.”
“It’s better when we know they’re coming. At least we’re prepared,” he replied.
Glancing around, I noticed one patron sulking in a corner. Most had taken their hoods off, but he didn’t. Much like us, he definitely didn’t want to be recognized. I tried to catch his scent, but nothing came through. The amber light of a nearby wall sconce didn’t do much to show me his face, either. I was becoming increasingly curious.
The tavern doors swung open, startling me. Kalon caught my wrist on the table. “Shh. They’re here. Be ready,” he whispered.
I turned my head slowly, enough to look over my shoulder. I could see them. Six Darklings, clad in black, gold masks covering their faces. They towered over the bar. The air thickened and crackled with swelling tension, and the barkeep took several cautious steps back.
“I don’t want any trouble,” he mumbled.
“Then give us one of the maids. We’re hungry,” one of the Darklings replied dryly.
The barkeep’s jaw dropped. This obviously wasn’t his first time dealing with them, but it was definitely the first time he’d gotten such a brazen request.
“Jayan said they usually pick on the customers,” Kalon said. “They’re going straight for the tavern staff now.”
“Please… Don’t. I can’t do that,” the barkeep managed, color draining from his tall cheeks.
The first Darkling reached over the counter and grabbed him by the collar, violently yanking him until he slammed his head into the wooden surface. “Then we’ll eat you,” the Darkling hissed.
“Hold on,” Kalon said, tightening his grip on my wrist. I was mere seconds away from jumping, and I was dying to tear them a new one—especially after what I’d experienced in the palace dungeons.
Kalon’s eyes moved across the room, though. The Darklings weren’t his primary concern, from what I could tell.
“Please don’t,” the barkeep croaked again. “We’re just trying to run an honest business here!”
The Darkling didn’t care. He ripped the Rimian’s shirt open, exposing the vulnerable space between his neck and shoulder. I could hear the blood pumping through the poor man’s jugular all the way from our table.
“We have to stop them,” I whispered to Kalon.
“We’re not the only ones, it seems,” he replied, a smile testing his lips.
Indeed, several of the tavern’s patrons stood up, their wooden chairs scratching the floor. The heavy silence amplified every sound. The Darklings seemed suddenly outnumbered. The hooded man I’d spotted earlier was up, as well, his broad shoulders charged with violent energy. I could almost feel his desire to break every single Darkling bone in this place.
“What is this?” the first Darkling asked, his voice thundering across the tavern. “Do you not know who we are?”
“We rule these lands!” a second Darkling added.
I noticed a muscle ticking in Kalon’s jaw, a glimmer of recognition flickering in his eyes. He stood up. “The Lord and Lady Supreme rule these lands,” Kalon said, straightening his back.
It was enough to make the second Darkling falter. He even took a couple of steps back, and I knew that he and Kalon recognized each other, somehow. Questions darted through my mind, but this wasn’t the right time to ask them. I stood as well, ready for whatever mayhem the Darklings were willing to throw at us—though I doubted I’d be able to do much damage. My thigh wound regularly reminded me of its presence, sending jolts of pain through my leg and hip.
“No. We rule these lands. Do you see the Lord and Lady Supreme here to contradict us?” The first Darkling stood his ground. I wasn’t sure whether he knew Kalon or not, but he was definitely fearless. I was itching to rip his head off, eager to put him back in his place.
The hooded man stepped forward, revealing himself. I sucked in a breath, recognizing Trev Blayne beneath a layer of black mineral dirt covering his face. That was why I hadn’t been able to register his scent. Jacinda and Jayan were definitely onto something with this stuff!
“Trev,” I murmured. The other Rimians who’d gotten up knew him, as well. I realized then that they’d all come together. Trev must’ve rallied them from somewhere, clearly aware that there would be a Darkling raid here tonight. Even in hiding, the former Rimian was keen to do his part against those who’d killed his beloved Luna Visentis.
“It took you fellas a while to show up,” Trev said, blatantly ignoring Kalon and me. I wasn’t all that miffed, but Kalon was clearly upset, his eyes shooting daggers at his friend.
The first Darkling laughed. “Look at that, boys! We just came in to collect some fresh meat for our clients. I guess we’re cashing in on that reward for Trev Blayne’s head, too!”
He was the only one genuinely excited among his peers. The others seemed hesitant, and I took it as a good sign. This was about to get messy and bloody fast, but I’d be damned if I let any of these SOBs walk out of here alive—except for the one who knew Kalon. I wanted him to talk first.
<
br /> “Turns out we’re going to get some action tonight after all, Kalon,” I said, smiling.
Kalon shot me a brief glance. “I thought you were saving the fireworks for that double bed, Esme.”
“Don’t you want some Darkling spines, instead?” I asked.
“I wouldn’t mind some,” Trev chimed in, but Kalon shushed him.
“I’ll deal with you later.”
“Are we going to get this over with or keep bickering like old ladies?” I cut them off, pursing my lips. Oh, I was dying for some action, despite the physical pain. Adrenaline was already coursing through me, making my muscles twitch with excitement.
The Darklings looked at us. I could feel their hatred flaring, rippling outward like airborne poison. Taking a deep breath, I darted out of our booth and went straight for their heads, knowing that Trev and Kalon and the six other Rimians who’d gotten up would join me.
Esme
Even with a bum leg, I managed to neutralize one Darkling. Kalon and Trev moved like shadows, jumping over the tables and tackling the others. The barkeep sought cover under the bar, while the other patrons moved back, leaving room for us and Trev’s Rimians to go head to head with the Darklings.
“Esme, be careful,” Kalon said, dodging a clawed blow from the first Darkling.
I shot him a grin and went straight for the Darkling he seemed to know. Panic quickly settled into Kalon’s features as he realized what I was about to do. Another fiend landed at my feet, courtesy of Trev. The Rimians pulled the Darkling away and chopped his head off. It looked like a team effort, and they were very well organized.
It dawned on me then that, with a little bit of discipline and some Aeternae allies, Rimians and Naloreans could very well overthrow the empire if they put their heads together. That, of course, was a bit of a long shot. Most of the subjugated people were accustomed to this life, complete with both perks and disadvantages. Most of the Rimians and the Naloreans could no longer envision a world where they weren’t subjects of the Aeternae empire.
A Shade of Vampire 80: A Veil of Dark Page 8