Allard picked out a book from the bookshelf, then we sat down at the desk. I shivered a little as the low temperatures started to creep into my bones. My heart had been pumping before, the adrenaline keeping me warm, but now that things were quieting down, I was starting to feel the cold.
“This is a ledger of the magic objects that come in and out of here. We should find some information about the dagger in it,” Allard explained as he started flipping through the book.
“How long until, uhm, Lizzy can locate it?” I asked, already looking forward to getting out of this secret, cold, underground hideout.
Allard looked at me in confusion for a second, then his eyes widened. “Right, thank you! I almost forgot,” he exclaimed as he pulled out his phone. He paced up and down while his thumb worked the screen, then he let out a sigh. “Damn, no reception. I’ll ask someone to contact her. Be right back.”
After he stormed out and closed the door behind him, I started flipping through the book. There were sketches, some of which were quite detailed, while others looked like they were made by a child. The entries looked similarly disorganized. It was clear that this journal wasn’t kept by one person, but multiple people with highly varying degrees of neatness. Some entries were as simple as a date and a note that they put “that weird, black orb” back in its place.
Other entries almost filled an entire double-page, telling the story of how a certain artifact was acquired and locked in here. As I looked through the pages, I realized that it was a futile attempt. All I knew was that we were looking for a dagger. There must have been dozens of daggers in the vault. Without a name or drawing, my chances of finding the right one were slim. Especially in a book this thick. It must have had at least eight hundred full-sized pages.
When Allard returned a few minutes later, I had already skimmed through a dozen pages without finding anything about a dagger. I wanted to push it back to his pace, but he shook his head and pulled out another book from the shelf.
“Please tell me that those aren’t all journals of magical artifacts,” I groaned as I watched him.
“No, this is a compendium of noteworthy magical weapons, and a somewhat detailed log of their known whereabouts,” he explained. “Maybe we can cross-reference the two somehow.”
I nodded and kept searching. “What’s with those… markings?” I asked eventually. “I keep seeing them next to some entries. Along with a number.”
Allard leaned over and inspected one. “Ah, that must be a reference to the compendium. The sign on top means that its very dangerous, and the number should be…” He trailed off as he browed through the pages. “Ah, here. A book about ghosts and demons. Ancient. Was used by various necromancers over the centuries.”
I shivered as I looked at the page and the sketch next to it. It depicted a shadowy figure and ghosts rising around it. “So let’s hope the stolen dagger doesn’t have such a mark next to it, right?” I replied.
“Here’s hoping.” Allard smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes.
I continued going through the ledger, scanning it for any mention of a dagger. We sat there quietly for what felt like hours, and my back was already starting to hurt. But between two longer entries, I found one short note that looked promising.
“Today, the dagger glowed. We didn’t take it out or do anything with it. It just glowed for a minute, then stopped. Mannie said that the black blade was supposedly forged to kill demons or something. Maybe it glowed because it sensed a demon nearby, like that sword in Lord of the Rings. Mannie said I should stop reading on the job so much. He’s just jealous because he doesn’t get books, so he watches those stupid sports channels all day.”
I scoffed, rubbing my eyes with the palms of my hand. “Did you tell whoever’s in charge of these books that it was supposed to be a log, not a diary?”
“Apparently not,” he chuckled after reading the short passage. “But it’s the first lead we’ve got. I haven’t found a knife forged to kill demons in my book, though.” He sighed. “Let’s hope Lizzy has had more luck. ”
We searched the books for another twenty minutes or so, until one of the guards knocked on the door and entered. “Sir, the witch you asked for is here.”
“Finally,” Allard sighed. “Did you also manage to procure something that belonged to the dagger?”
“Yes, uhm, they said this piece of cloth was used to wrap the dagger,” the guard said hesitantly, holding up the square piece of fabric that looked like the kind of cloth pleople used to clean their glasses, only bigger.
“Well, let’s hope it’s enough.” Allard shrugged as he got up and took the cloth out of the guard’s hand. “Send her in, please, would you?”
The guard nodded and disappeared, and a few moments later, the witch, Lizzy, walked in. “They said you needed me for a tracking spell?” she asked, her voice just as soft as I remembered. This time, without an angry frown on her face.
“Yes, exactly. A dagger was stolen, and we have something that should help you pick up a trace.”
I watched them with curiosity as Lizzy unrolled a map of Darkhaven on the table. She pushed the books to the side and used them to hold down the corners of the map.
She pulled a tiny knife from her pocket, made a small incision in her hand, and dropped a few drops of blood on the laminated map. With a tissue, she quickly wiped the blood off her hand, then took the cloth from Allard’s opened hand and closed her eyes.
“Why does she need her blood for the spell?” I whispered to Allard.
“You can use anything, but using something of yourself makes it easier. Connecting drops of water to your spell takes more concentration than connecting your own blood. She could also use some strands of her hair or fingernail trimmings or something, but that would be kind of gross.”
“Ew. I see,” I replied quietly.
Lizzy opened her eyes to stare at us for a moment, and I quickly closed my mouth and looked down apologetically. The witch took a deep breath, then quietly started chanting in what sounded like Latin. I could tell it was the same few sentences over and over, like she was asking for the location of the dagger.
Fascinated, I watched as the drops of blood slowly moved, until they eventually gathered in one place and stopped. Moments later, the chanting stopped, and Lizzy opened her eyes again.
“Are you sure this is the correct place?” Allard said with a frown on his face.
Lizzy sighed as she inspected the map. “I’m afraid so.”
Allard took a deep breath and got up from his chair, wringing his hands. “Ohhh, this is going to be trouble.”
I looked back and forth between them, checking the map again. The drop was a bit outside the city, and I didn’t see anything describing the location, no name or symbol in the immediate vicinity.
“What is it? What’s at this location?”
Allard looked at me with resignation. “That’s Clan Dulaire’s Castle. It sure looks like the vampires took it.”
“But wait, how does this make sense?” I wondered. “The other dagger was in the hands of a different clan. How can they be connected? And didn’t we conclude that the attacks had to be made by someone with magic?”
“Two attacks made by vampires, both attacks stealing a dagger, isn’t it?” Lizzy replied. “And they could have a witch working for them.”
“And we had a vampire delegate in the vault just two hours ago, to check security. They could have smuggled the dagger out,” Allard added. “I don’t like this any more than you do. A single outlaw would have been much easier to deal with than the whole vampire clan, but…” his voice trailed off, and he pointed at the map.
“So the vampires found and hired a medusa, too?” I usually had no trouble believing that vampires were behind something evil, but this time, it would include Octavian. And I didn’t want to accept that he had been leading me on this entire time.
Allard shrugged. “I don’t have all the answers either. But whatever is going on, it’s something big.
They dared going after the Ring of Elders and stole powerful artifacts. Whoever is behind it, whichever vampire clan it is, they might even try to end our sovereignty in Darkhaven,” he said, his face stern and slightly pale.
“Like another Night of Sacrifice,” Lizzy whispered, fear on her face.
“A what?” I asked, looking at them in confusion. I didn’t exactly know much about the history of Darkhaven, but that sounded important.
“About a hundred fifty years ago, the three magical factions wanted independence—an end to the vampire’s oppression,” Allard explained, his eyes gazing into the distance. “The vampires denied their demands, and there was unrest among witches. Count Theron, who ruled back then, decided it was time to set an example, so he slaughtered an entire coven in one night. That led to weeks of rebellion and bloodshed, but eventually, we won. A peace was brokered, and we were allowed to form the Ring of Elders and have our sovereignty.”
“And you think the vampires might be plotting to take down the Ring and bring the witches and the others back under their rule?” While rogues might not be affected as much by this, I knew I wouldn’t like a city under the vampire’s oppression.
“I hope not, but I think we have to prepare for the worst,” Allard said, heavy-hearted. “We have to proceed very carefully now, or we will have a war at hand that will tear the city apart.”
12
“How could this happen?” the old witch asked angrily.
“And why did we even let the vampires be involved in our investigation?” said one of the shamans.
“Calm down, everyone,” Allard said, raising his hands. “We don’t know what happened yet, we shouldn’t be throwing accusations around.”
I was in the second of two vans currently driving to the castle of Clan Dulaire, together with a few members of the Ring of Elders and some more witches and shamans. About a dozen people in total. And the mood in the car was not exactly the best.
“The vault is in full lockdown, right, Allard?” the old witch asked again.
“Yes, it is, Mannfred.” Allard sighed. “And yes, I’ve already called for a meeting of the covens and families, including the well-connected elementalists. So whatever we find out today, we can let everyone know what’s going on tomorrow.”
“Good. We can tell everyone to hide their kids and start preparing,” he grumbled angrily.
“Would you knock it off, Mannfred?” a younger female shaman, replied, annoyed. “This is just a diplomatic situation, not the start of the next war.”
“That’s what the Winterbloom coven thought four generations ago, and look how they ended up,” he mumbled. “Dead, that’s how.”
I kept my thoughts to myself. I was only tagging along as a bodyguard and didn’t really know enough about the political situation in Darkhaven to weigh in on the argument, anyway.
“I agree, though,” the woman added. “Why did we let that vampire in on everything regarding the investigation, Allard? This didn’t concern them.”
“It did when one of their own was possessed by an evil spirit,” he responded. “He was sent by the clan to deal with what was happening. After that, well… He was there, and he was helping. And he never got access to the vault, so I don’t think we need to be focusing on him.”
My instinct was to tell them they were wrong, that Octavian had nothing to do with it. That he couldn’t possibly have been a spy all along. But I couldn’t. A voice in my head kept telling me that I just didn’t want to believe it, that it actually made perfect sense.
I thought we had a real connection, that I could trust him. But what if it was all a lie? He had just pretended to like me, acted all nice and gentleman like so he could stay on the in, be right at the center of the investigation. How I got there myself, I didn’t know. I would have been the last person to follow if someone wanted to be in the midst of things, but somehow, that was where I ended up. I wasn’t ready to damn him just yet. I hadn’t given up on him.
“All right, people, we’re almost there,” Allard said, turning around in his front-row seat to look at us in the other two rows. “This is a diplomatic mission, so let’s just talk it through and listen. Let’s hope it’s all a big misunderstanding, so please, keep the accusations to yourselves for now.”
The others grumbled and murmured a bit, but seemed to agree. A minute later, the car stopped, and we got out. Memories flashed through my mind as I looked around. It was the same castle where the ball had been held, where I had been dancing with Octavian, laughing, drinking, socializing. Where I had been a different Raven than I used to be all my life, a happy, daring, social Raven. He had brought out a part of me I didn’t even know existed, that I never thought I would like.
Wondering if it had all been a lie, an elaborate ruse just to gain my trust, made my heart ache and my steps heavy with fear. I was hoping they were wrong. That he had nothing to do with it. That he was the good guy that I wanted him to be.
But I had to be realistic and prepare for the worst. Hope only led to disappointment, I had learned that early in life. I followed the others to the entrance of the castle where we were greeted by a vampire in a formal suit with a half-dozen guards behind him.
“Welcome, delegates,” he greeted us. “Follow me, I will lead you to Countess Selina and the others.”
Allard fell back a few steps to walk beside me. “Countess Selina is the de facto leader of Clan Dulaire. Technically, her mother never officially retired, but she hasn’t appeared in court for years now. If the Countess is here, this must be serious. So please, stay back and listen, but don’t talk. And whatever happens, don’t attack. Do not even retaliate. We can’t risk an all-out war,” he whispered sternly and stared into my eyes.
“No attacking, got it,” I whispered in return. I swallowed as I realized that I was right in the center of political events that would decide the future of Darkhaven—a chain of events that might go down in history. I didn’t know if there was such a thing as a supernatural history book of Darkhaven, maybe some kind of journal someone was keeping, but I might even end up mentioned in it.
It was a surreal feeling, like I was about to wake up at any moment. But I wasn’t. This was real. And whatever happened today would have massive consequences, so I had to make sure I followed Allard very carefully. I did not want to go down as the rogue who started the next war.
We continued walking, following the vampire for about a minute. He led us through chilly hallways with well-maintained stone walls, decorated by banners, medieval weapons, and shields covered in crests and scenes of battle. It was clear that the clan celebrated their history—history that reached so far into the past, it wasn’t even on the same continent.
Eventually, we entered a big room, dominated by a long, elliptical table. It was aligned with its long side facing the door, so the vampires standing behind it almost seemed to be hiding behind it like a wall.
But the expressions on their faces made it clear they weren’t hiding. Which was made even clearer by the dagger openly lying in the center of the table. Seated right behind it was a woman who didn’t look much older than me, but must have been a lot more important. While everyone else was standing behind her, she was sitting at the table, hands folded in front of her calmly.
She watched us as we entered the room, her eyes inspecting each one of us. While the others looked at us with a mix of anger and pride, she seemed more curious and open, friendly but not naïve.
When our eyes met, I sensed a spark of curiosity, surprise even, but I wasn’t sure if I had only imagined it. It sure would have felt nice to be specifically noticed by the woman I assumed was Countess… what was it again? Then again, she probably made everybody feel important.
“Welcome, Elders,” she eventually spoke, breaking the silence in the room. She rose to gesture at the empty chairs opposite of her, then sat down again, slowly and elegantly.
I was glad I was at the very back of the group so I could watch Allard as he remained at the wall, standing str
aight but quietly, together with the other witches and shamans. Only the Elders seemed to be invited to the table, which should have been obvious by her words. It would have been very awkward if I had tried sitting down with them, I thought, a little shiver running down my spine.
As some of the vampires sat down next to the Countess, I noticed a familiar face on the other side of the room, standing guard at the wall just like I was. It felt strange – just a couple of days ago, I was some random mercenary hired as a bodyguard, then sent to follow the vampire’s emissary around. Now Octavian and I looked eye to eye as bodyguards of our faction’s leaders.
He frowned as I glared at him, like he didn’t know why I was pissed at him. But the dagger on the table made it clear that the vampires were indeed behind at least the latest attack, and possibly more—and he couldn’t claim to be an innocent bystander in what they were doing.
“So, as you see, we have the dagger,” the Countesses’ voice broke the silence once again. Her voice seemed neutral, with no trace of guilt or shame, as if she was merely stating a fact.
The dagger itself, which lay in front of her on a small piece of cloth, looked surprisingly crude. That couldn’t fool me, though. It reeked of ancient magic and darkt intent. Runes were scratched into the blade, which was worn out and dull.
“So it seems,” one of the elders replied coldly. “Are you going to offer an explanation?”
“This dagger is rightfully ours, as has it been for generations. It was your people who stole it from us,” the vampire to her left spit out angrily. He had an ugly scar across his face—as if it had been slashed by a sword—and a military-style haircut.
The Countess raised her hand, and the vampire fell silent, leaning back in his chair obediently, but crossing his arms in protest.
“While I hope to avoid any unnecessary aggression, he is right,” she continued. “It was in our possession for a long time before it somehow ended up in your vault.”
“You had no right to take it,” another Elder snarled. “We could have talked about it, made a deal, but this treachery cannot stand.”
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