Raven's Ascent

by Ben Blackwell

  “Look, they—” I started, but Octavian was already nodding.

  “I saw them.”

  “I guess that’s our cue, then.”

  “You ready?” he asked, a slight smirk on his face.

  “Always. Let’s kick some ass,” I replied with a grin.

  10

  We made our way through the crowd, toward the other side of the hall. A ripple of confusion and fear had gone through the guests, but so far, they remained calm. When we arrived on the other side of the hall, about a dozen vampire guards had already gathered. Some were talking to guests, reassuring them. Others were heading into the hallway, led by two men in suits. From the way they carried themselves, I assumed they were Fangs.

  “Halt!” A guard stopped me as I moved to pass through the perimeter that they had established around the hallway entrance.

  I felt Octavian behind me, putting a hand on my shoulder. I couldn’t see his expression, but judging by the look on the vampire’s face, Octavian had glared at him with enough authority to scare him off.

  The guard gulped, then quickly took a step back. “Excuse me. Right this way, sir.”

  I couldn’t help but grin as we passed the guard. It certainly felt good having this much authority. Or, well, being with someone who did.

  Octavian took the lead and we entered the hallway, less than a minute behind the other vampires. As we went around the first corner, my blood turned cold.

  A woman was slumped against the wall. Her belly was ripped open, blood and innards spilling out. An expression of fear, terror even, was frozen on her face, her eyes wide open. I could still sense some disbelief in her dead eyes. Like she had been surprised to be attacked—and maybe not just by the fact that she was attacked, but by whom.

  “We should be careful,” Octavian muttered grimly. He kneeled down next to the woman and closed her eyes gently, whispering words I could not make out. Then he got back up and nodded forward. “Let’s catch up.”

  In a sprint, we followed the quiet noises the vampire guard made—whispered words, steps on the carpet, the occasional fearful gasp.

  Suddenly, I felt a chill creep down my back, like an icy gale brushing over me. My body tensed up, and I gasped for air.

  “What is it?” Octavian whispered, worry on his face.

  “Didn’t you feel that?”

  “No, what?”

  “It was like a… a cold wind,” my voice trembled. I took another deep breath to calm myself down and focus, then I noticed a new smell in the air. Chilly. Dark. Wet, but rotten. Like a wet towel forgotten in the washing machine, developing that unique stench.

  Octavian watched me with a frown as I looked around, sniffling. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

  “Yeah, I just…” My voice trailed off as I tried to identify it, but the smell was already fading.

  Then an image flashed through my mind. I looked up at Octavian with wide eyes, but his confusion only deepened.

  “It smells just like back in that warehouse!” I exclaimed. “The witch who wandered in. The possessed one. It smells like evil spirit!”

  “You sure? I don’t smell anything,” he said hesitantly.

  “No, you don’t, that’s my thing. I smell magic, and this one’s bad. But it went the other way, back where we came from!”

  He looked forward, where the other vampires were searching, then back to the main hall, then at me. He frowned, pursing his lips as his eyes stared into mine. Then he sighed. “I guess the others got that part covered. Let’s head back, then.”

  Relieved that he didn’t think I was crazy, I started running back. Or, stumbling as fast as I could in my heels. After a few steps, I yelped angrily, then tore them from my feet, threw them to the side, and continued running.

  It was strange, very much not elegant, but feeling the floor, the soft carpet under my feet was invigorating. As we arrived back at the entrance to the hallway, I could hear three guards angrily arguing with someone, who was apparently trying to go into the hallway himself. Otherwise, the scene looked quiet and peaceful. Yet the smell was getting stronger.

  Suddenly, one of the guards was pushed back a couple steps. The other two started shouting at the man. I could not make out which faction he belonged to. Vampire? Strange witch?

  He had his hands raised with open palms, but the guards shoved him back aggressively, their hands on their sword hilts.

  All of a sudden, a splash of blood painted their faces and coats red. Their angry yelling died down immediately, replaced by disbelief. Just as much in shock as them, I watched as the third guard stumbled forward, gurgling, hands clutched around his throat. Blood was still spraying out of it in waves until he stumbled and fell. His body laid there, completely still, save for the pool of blood growing around him, staining the carpet in a darker shade of red than it already was.

  His two comrades stared at him in terror, then took a step back and drew their swords. They looked at the man, then looked at us, their eyes scanning the corridor, as they shakily backed up against the wall.

  With one look, I could tell the man wasn’t the attacker. Not only had he not cast any spells, but the look of shock on his face spoke volumes. The guards must have realized that, too.

  Which meant that none of us were the attacker.

  This time, we were facing an invisible spirit. A very deadly one.

  “Oh for fuck’s sake,” I mumbled. “A freaking ghost?”

  Even Octavian looked spooked, and his hands were slightly raised like a boxer. But the gesture seemed more to comfort himself than as if he actually meant to box with the ghost.

  Time stood still as we all looked around frantically, waiting for the next attack. Then one of the guards yelped as his sword was torn from his hands. He stared at it, hovering in the air maybe three feet before his face.

  I looked away, not wanting to see what happened next. Judging by the sound of blood splashing, a body thumping, and screaming erupting in the main hall, he died violently, too.

  Deciding that standing still like a deer in headlights wasn’t going to help me, I rushed over to the first victim. The vampire was lying on his front, his hand still clutched around his throat. As I inspected the scene, I noticed a light footprint in the carpet, like someone had walked through the puddle of blood and over the carpet.

  “Not a ghost!” I shouted, my eyes trying to follow the footsteps. “Just an invisible person!”

  The last remaining guard looked at me, then at his two comrades. With a quiet yelp, he dropped his sword and ran like the devil himself was chasing him, screaming all the way back into the hall. As I glanced afte him, I thought I saw guards trying to evacuate the crowd somewhat calmly, but their attempt was in vain. The previously elegant gathering had turned into a terrified mass, and everyone was pushing and shoving as much as necessary to get to the exit first. I thought I saw Emma and Lina, desperately trying to stay together as they were pushed out with the crowd.

  Then another cold shiver hit me, and I immediately yanked up a magic barrier. It lit up right in front of me just a split-second later. Ripples spread outward from a point in front of my chest like a disturbance in a quiet lake. Whatever it had tried to hit me with, it had been aimed at my heart.

  Panicking, I extended the barrier, wrapping it all around me. My gut turned into an icy pit as I realized that I might die any second, not even able to see my attacker, unable to defend myself properly or fight back.

  When another blow hit my barrier, and ripples spread across it again, the stranger ran toward me. He had remained in place until now, watching in disbelief. He stopped about twenty feet before me, brows furrowed. Then he slowly raised his hands up, palms facing to the ceiling.

  I watched with wide eyes as the two pools of blood started trickling upwards, like gravity was suddenly reversing in slow motion. The blood was drawn up from the floor, out of the carpet, gathering in blobs suspended in mid-air. Then, the man spread his arms to his sides in one quick gesture, like a swimming m
otion.

  Immediately, the blood spread out, splitting up into tiny droplets and spreading throughout the hallway. It looked both magical and gruesome. Like raindrops of blood suspended in mid-air.

  Within a second, the droplets of blood had filled the hallway around me, up from my knees until almost to my head. And amidst that macabre spectacle, a figure became visible.

  It was standing right next to me, but all I could see were a few spots of blood on it, outlining its shape. Immediately, the figure started moving, dashing toward the man.

  He pointed his hands forward again, palms facing the invisible attacker. Blood shot toward the attacker from all directions, painting them red, like a nightmarish ghost coming at us straight from hell.

  Refocusing my own magic, I blasted my energy toward it. It hit the figure in the back, throwing it past the mysterious mage where it crashed down on the floor silently.

  Finally able to do something, Octavian dashed forward. I frowned as he ran past the figure, but my face lit up as I saw him going for the guard’s sword.

  I started running, straight for the not-a-ghost, holding one hand up. The figure was getting up already. Slowly, but not dazed. Relaxed. Unafraid. Ready to kill.

  Octavian picked up the sword, spun around.

  I was five steps away, closing in fast. The figure started moving toward me. Like a big cat before the pounce.

  Zhe sword came flying through the air, slowly turning end over end. I was slowing down, but the nightmare was coming closer. Three more steps, and it would slice my neck open.

  I jumped forward, almost closing the distance between us. My hand reached for the sword, and just barely caught it. Blood smears made the hilt wet and slippery, but my gloves had enough texture to hold it.

  I landed, going down on one knee as the thing slashed at my throat. I felt a gush of air on my face as I dodged by barely an inch. Then I propelled myself up and whipped the sword across its body.

  I felt the familiar feeling of flesh being cut deeply. Blood squirted of the wide tear I hadinflicted across its body, spraying over me and the carpet.

  The nightmare let out a horrifying scream that made my skin crawl and my blood turn to ice, but I clenched my jaw and went for another strike.

  I spun around to build momentum, then stretched my arm out and yelled with determination.

  The scream stopped abruptly. A moment later, its head hit the ground, and its body followed a second after that.

  I panted, my heart pounding in my chest, then I slowly released my grip on the sword. I had held it so tightly, my hand would barely open. I had been right—those gloves had not let me down, not in the ballroom, and not in the heat of combat.

  I looked up at Octavian, then to the man, witch, whatever he was. They wore the same haunted expressions—relief and still lingering terror. Octavian looked at me, at the man, and finally at the puddles of blood on the floor. His nose twitched, and I could see his fangs extending slighly, as if he was fighting it. His eyes darkened for a moment, but then he pulled his focus away from the blood back on the mysterious magical.

  With suspicion, I scanned the man from top to bottom. Unlike most other guests, he didn’t wear a classic suit and tie. His robe—or whatever it was called—looked like the kind of outfit I’ve seen people wear for musicals, like a noble in late medieval times.

  But with the dark black and red color scheme, he reminded me of a vampire count who had somehow got lost in the wrong time period. And yet, no vampire I had ever seen could do magic, certainly not like this.

  “Who are you?” I asked inquisitively, taking a step toward the man.

  “I’m Elryon,” the man answered calmly, bowing slightly.

  “But what are you? You look like a vampire, but fight like an elementalist or something.”

  I took another step forward, and without intending to, my voice had taken an almost aggressive undertone. Octavian quickly walked over to me, putting a hand on my shoulder to call me down.

  “Relax, he’s just a helpful guest,” he whispered in my ear.

  The mysterious man smiled at me. “I’m a hemomancer, actually. It’s… like an elementalist, but with blood.”

  I frowned, then tilted my head. “So you’re not an elementalist? What are you, then?”

  “A hemomancer. I just told you,” he chuckled. “A rogue, if that’s what you’re asking.”

  I had suspected it, but I had to hear him say it. I had only met a couple other rogues in my life, and they hadn’t been like him. At all.

  He didn’t carry himself with the innate superiority and dominance like vampires did, yet he seemed confident in a way that I hadn’t seen with a rogue before. Like he wasn’t an outcast his entire life, not excluded and looked down upon. Almost as if he belonged.

  He chuckled, probably in response to my confused stare. “And who might you be? You seem to have uniquely powerful abilities, as well.”

  “I’m… Raven. Rogue,” I replied. I didn’t know him and had no reason to trust him other than that he fought beside us, but I didn’t have the impulse to push him away like I do to everyone else. Must have been the dress and Octavian’s social influence. Or maybe because I was curious about his powers. He was not like other supernaturals, I could tell.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Raven,” Elryon said with a bright smile, extending his hand toward me.

  I shook it hesitantly, then quickly tried to find an appropriate response.

  Before I could say anything, Octavian interrupted. “Great, you two want to get a room or can we carry on with our mission? We need to check the perimeter, make sure there aren’t any other attackers around,” he stated, putting his arm around me and gently pushing me forward, past the hemomancer.

  Confused by his sudden impatience, I trudged along, letting him guide me toward the exit. The main hall was already empty. Only some knocked over tables and broken glasses remained. With relief, I noticed the appetizer table was still intact. It would have been a shame to lose those cupcakes.

  Octavian quickly conferred with one of the other Crimson Fangs, then turned back to me. “Alright, so I guess the ball is over. They are trying to throw together an improvised after party, but I think I’m going to head home, call it a night.”

  “Uhm, okay,” I stuttered in confusion. Didn’t he just wanted to check for other attackers? “I’m kind of tired, too. Let me just fetch my shoes from the hallway, and I’ll be right there.”

  He nodded, and I briskly walked back toward where I discarded my shoes. With a bit of disappointment, I saw that the mysterious mage was already gone.

  I picked up my shoes, then walked back, carefully avoiding all the blood that now stained a wide area of the hallway. As I looked at the slain figure, still invisible but covered in blood, I felt an icy chill course through my veins again. Fighting monsters was one thing, but invisible monsters were a lot worse.

  Octavian smiled as I returned and offered his arm again. “Let’s get you home, then.”

  About an hour later, I carefully put the dress on a hanger, put on my girly pajamas, and fell on my bed. I hadn’t even realized how tense and exhausted my body was, probably just as much from the dancing as from the fighting. But my mind was still fully awake, processing dozens of conversations I had been somewhat involved in, remembering as many little details as I could. Images of dancing with Octavian flashed through my mind, the feeling of his hand on my back, his smile right in front of me. The feeling of belonging that I’d had. The taste of the red cupcakes, spicy berries and smoke.

  I let out a deep, happy sigh as Lady came running and lied down in the bed next to me.

  “I know, I know. I was gone a lot today,” I whispered, running my hand through her fur. “But it has been great. Tonight has filled a void in me I didn’t even know I had,” I continued. “It was… fun.” She barked once, then lay her head down on the bed.

  As my thoughts kept swirling in my head, they seemed to circle back to the dancing again and agai
n. But it wasn’t just the dancing itself. Despite feeling vulnerable, I also felt a strange sense of safeness when I was around Octavian.

  I wasn’t sure if I could ever trust someone like normal people did, but it felt like we were a team. Like I could rely on him. And that was more than I was used to.

  But more importantly, when I was with him, I felt alive in a way that I hadn’t known before. My heart was beating strangely as I thought about it. Like in the heat of battle, thrilled, but also worried about the unknown.

  It was a strange feeling, and I didn’t quite know what to make of it. For now, I enjoyed it. As I was falling asleep, I wondered if I would see him again the next day.

  ***

  When I was woken up by loud barking, I jolted up immediately. I saw Lady standing next to the bed with her food bowl, looking at me expectantly. With a sigh, I fell back to the bed.

  “Yeah, yeah, I’ll make you breakfast in a sec. Then I go back to sleep, alright, Missy?”

  I yawned and swung my feet out of bed, then picked up my phone to check the time. With surprise, I saw that it was almost noon. I couldn’t remember when I got home yesterday, but I didn’t think it had been that late.

  Then I noticed a message from Allard.

  There has been another attack. We think we know what’s going on. Call me as soon as you get this, please.

  “Shit,” I muttered.

  I stood up, then almost fell back into bed as a sudden burst of pain shot through my head.

  “Dammit, it was a single glass of champagne!” I cursed. I could drink three beers and not feel anything the next day. How could some fancy bubbly water be that bad?

  Either way, I had no time to sleep it off, apparently.

  A mission was waiting.

  11

  Hastily, I made a breakfast for Lady, took a hot shower, had some cereal myself, and then picked up the phone to call Allard.