by Iris Walker
And then, her gaze dropped to her own hands, at the once deep red birthmarks that now surged with the orange glow of a volcanic eruption; pure, uncontained lava, coursing through her veins.
Fire kills vampires, she heard Reykon say, distantly.
There was too much heat, too much power, and it was all colliding inside of her, eating her up all over again, just like it had that night, underneath the comet.
The cold ground rushed up to her, and she was consumed by darkness once more, swallowed in it, lost, until figures emerged out of the abyss.
They were in a room, hidden, underground. Dirt floated down with each thudding footstep above them. Robin was entirely concealed in shadow, watching the group of people who sat in near darkness, save for a single lantern on a table in the center.
A cellar? Robin wondered.
Books were spread out on the table, and Robin took a step forward, blind curiosity driving her movements. Just as she stepped past the shadow, each member froze and turned to look at her.
A stab of icy fear drove through her chest.
The last figure, the one closest to her, turned.
Underneath a silken hood, Robin recognized that flame-red hair, and those flickering eyes.
Calliope.
Robin’s eyes widened in fear, and she staggered backwards, just as the caster stood abruptly.
“Robin!” she called. No trace of anger or wrath remained in her voice, all replaced by fear.
The corners of her vision faded, consumed by shadow, as the look of panic on Calliope’s face deepened, and the caster reached for Robin’s hand.
Robin’s eyes flew open.
“…I’m telling you, she’s unstable…” Charlemagne’s voice growled.
“…too hot…” another fragment called out.
Harley’s was next. “…they won’t hold…”
Robin’s brain felt like an egg that had been zapped in the microwave for two hours straight; a storm of heat and electricity brewed behind her eyes, and it was ripping her apart.
“Fire,” Robin whispered, words cracking from her sandpaper throat.
“Master Darian,” another voice called, closer to her.
Robin recognized the familiar voice that sounded like a bell. As she turned her head, trying to find that delicate, soft voice, a halo of light shot out, and she saw Willow, shrouded in sunbeams.
“Robin,” Willow called, that same beautiful smile widening on her face. “How are you feeling, Robin?”
“There’s a fire, Willow,” Robin said, reaching her hand out towards the caster. “We need to go, there’s a fire.”
“She’s not making sense,” Harley said with a scowl.
Robin swung her gaze back to Harley, and saw that same expression of accusation, a permanent scowl; but now, there was something else underneath it. Concern. Fear?
Willow’s own eyes hardened, fierce and piercing. “She’s burning up. She needs help, or...”
Charlemagne was there too, suddenly in front of her vision, his brow dotted with sweat. “These won’t hold. I don’t know why, but the binding…”
Robin felt that fear rising inside of her, the fear that nobody was listening to her, and that something bad was coming, that something horrible would happen to them. All of them.
Fire consumed everything.
“It’s happening again,” Willow called, her delicate voice obscured by fear. “Robin, you need to calm down.”
“Robin,” Harley growled, a warning and a request all in one.
Another figure swept in front of her vision, like a shadow. Burning red irises consumed her own, and an ice-cold palm pressed to her forehead, drowning the world in black once more.
Chapter 5 Dreams
Reykon
“What the hell are you doing?” he snapped at Lucidia, while Landon excused himself to take a call about something.
“Take that tone with me and we’ll have a problem, Reykon.”
His eyes narrowed, anger blazing as he glared at her. “Sorry, but this is the tone I normally take with people who are acting like thick idiots.”
“What’s your problem?”
“We’re not here to get in bed with House Prior,” he snapped. “Just because he offered you a high-level position with bells and whistles doesn’t mean we settle down with a white picket fence. We’re here to find where Robin is being held. Ivan, remember? Any of that ring a bell?”
Now her purple eyes were the ones to flare up. “Okay, first, I’m not signing my life away to Landon Prior. We’re here because he dragged us here, and if we don’t help, he’s going to ship our asses to Darian. Second, we weren’t even close to finding her before we got sidetracked. We were taking shots in the dark at every turn, looking for Georgie because he could have possibly led us to someone that possibly knew something. It wasn’t concrete.”
“So you’re giving up on her?” he jabbed.
“No!” she snapped, fists clenching. “I’m doing what I have to do to keep my head and my freedom. We can’t help Robin if we’re rotting in chains and the last I heard, Darian’s plan was to ship me to the caster’s guild.”
“You don’t have to give them tactical advice to keep your head.”
“Maybe I want to,” she growled. “We’re outlaws, Reykon! Talk about thick. We don’t have anywhere to go, we have enemies all around us, and it’s only going to get worse. We can’t afford to keep moving through the human world without any backup. I’m thinking two steps ahead, and you’re thinking with your downstairs brain.”
Reykon’s eyes drilled into Lucidia’s, butting heads like they always had on previous missions. Just as the tension soared, a cool, smug voice broke their concentration.
“Reykon Thraxos,” Landon said, striding over to them.
“Oh, if it isn’t our fearless leader,” Reykon muttered.
“We have yet to talk about my offer to you. You’re discussing the same Robin that was in charge of the Demonte Massacre, correct?”
“Why?” Reykon asked, his shoulders tensing in caution.
“Because from what I hear, Calliope Dragomir invested quite a good deal of magic in the girl, turning her into a weapon that could revert vampires into humans.”
“We don’t know what she can do,” Reykon said bluntly.
“But you are singularly determined to find the girl, yes?”
“What’s it to you?”
“It just so happens that I have an offer to make. You two are gaining quite the reputation among our circles. Two fierce, formidable strongbloods that defected from their masters and the customs of the royal houses. You’re famous for breaking the rules. Who better than to join my coalition, to be the poster children for opposition and the foundation of a new order, than those two strongbloods, and the new breed of magical creature that Calliope Dragomir broke the rules to conjure into existence? In terms of publicity, that would shift the conversation in our favor.”
“You want us to be your puppets, and you want to parade Robin around as a show of your power?” Reykon accused.
“No. I want to fund your mission to find the girl and bring her to me. You cannot accomplish what you’re attempting without powerful friends, Reykon Thraxos, either admit that or continue lying to yourself. I’m willing to supply you those friends if you deliver Robin to me with the promise that you both will at least consider what I have to offer. If, at the end of our proposal and discussions, you decide to part ways, you have my word that you will both be permitted to leave, unharmed.”
Reykon stared into the vampire’s expression; near manic, and crazy with excitement, but genuine all the same. This guy is something else, for sure. “You have equipment? It’s going to take a lot just to find her in the first place,” he grumbled.
“I have more than that,” Landon said.
“What does that mean?”
“Give me your word, and I’ll tell you,” he said earnestly.
Reykon exchanged a single glance with Lucidia. He knew the o
dds weren’t in his favor, and he knew that Landon’s argument was his best shot at finding her, even if he didn’t like casting oaths willy-nilly. “You have my word.”
“Right, then. I’ve had people tracking the situation closely, and I have somebody that I think you’d be very interested to talk to. Lucidia, after you get settled in, you will meet with my next-in-line for defense. I believe you two have already been acquainted. He’ll give you a tour of the city and go over some of our most pressing concerns.”
Lucidia narrowed her eyes but nodded in confirmation.
Landon’s smile widened even further, his red eyes dancing with anticipation. “I think this is the beginning of a truly formidable alliance, don’t you? Take a few days to settle in, and then we’ll begin our mission.”
“We’re not promising anything,” Lucidia said.
Landon let out another smooth laugh and began walking away, Reykon following him tentatively.
I’m coming, Robin, he said, focusing his thoughts on whatever Landon might be hiding that pertained to her location.
Robin
The waves lapped at the side of the boat, and Robin drew in a long, deep breath of ocean air. Dark clouds hung above the sea, a flash of brilliant red and dusky purple cutting across the horizon, the last vestiges of the sunset.
Blue. Everything around them was blue, and cool and crisp, while their entangled arms kept the heat trapped between their bodies.
“I love you, Robin Wright,” Reykon whispered, squeezing her closer.
Reykon! her mind boomed.
Robin turned around quickly, spinning in his arms.
She was met by sparkling dark eyes, and that same tousled hair she’d first seen in the bar. “Reykon,” she whispered, her eyes wide in wonder.
“Of course it’s me,” he teased. “Were you expecting someone else?”
“Where did you go? Where were you? How did-”
“Shhh,” he said, pulling her into a hug.
She fought to make sense of the situation, wrapping her arms tighter around him and burying her face in his chest. Cool air slipped past them, rustling her hair as ocean spray dusted their little cocoon of bliss.
Robin allowed herself to relax, drinking this moment in like it was her first sip of water in the desert. She sunk into his arms and stayed there, suspended under the sparkling stars, in the middle of a wide, dark ocean. After hours had passed in an instant, she brought her head up and searched his eyes.
“How did we escape?” she whispered.
Reykon looked at her and quirked an eyebrow in confusion.
“How did we get away from Darian?” she repeated, her voice firmer. “I don’t remember…”
Something caught her eye as it slipped past them, snaking onto the boat in long white tendrils.
Fog. A wall of fog surrounded them, like watching the clouds swallow up an airplane. A chilling voice rang out from behind Reykon, and Robin’s eyes shifted to that menacing figure and his silver hair.
“You haven’t,” Darian said.
Robin stiffened, turning towards the vampire and shoving Reykon behind her. “What is this?”
“Relax,” Darian said, more of a command than anything. His charm had faded, and his expression was carved in stone. She’d never seen the vampire lose his cool, but she could tell that he was as bare faced as she’d likely ever witness.
He looked exhausted, truly spent, and even verging on weakened.
“Where are we?” Robin demanded.
A small smile spread on Darian’s lips as he sunk against the bench by the cabin doors. “You should know. This is your dream, after all.”
“I don’t understand…” she muttered, glancing around at the thick fog, fear still front in her mind that if she took her eyes off the vicious vampire, he’d disappear. Her hand clenched Reykon so tightly that her fingers ached with the force, but Reykon returned the same pressure, slipping his other hand around her arm in a protective gesture.
“We’re inside of your head. It was the only safe place left in the palace.”
“Safe from what?”
“From you, my dear,” he said with a bitter smile.
Memories rushed back in choppy fragments, memories of a delicious meal and a terrifying magic barrier, memories of teeth, slicing into her neck and digging deep.
And memories of fire.
Robin braced herself for the fear, for the anger, for the thumping of her heartbeat, but even as she tried to focus on it, there was nothing.
“Perks of the dreamscape,” Darian called out, waving his hand in an elegant gesture. “I control the show.”
Robin felt numb, but with that, there was a beautiful clarity. A calm that she hadn’t felt since… since this moment, on the Marianna, before Magnus had crashed onto the boat and ripped it all to shreds.
In the absence of fear, Robin turned her sights to the vampire sitting across the deck. His composure was gone, his clothing slightly wrinkled.
“You look… tired,” Robin said with a scowl.
“Dreamscaping takes a hefty toll,” he said, smoothing his already pristine hair. “Only a few vampires even have the gumption to accomplish it.”
“So this isn’t Reykon?” she asked, expecting a pang of sadness and finding nothing but that strange clarity.
“It’s your memory of him.”
As she turned around, she found that he’d disappeared, gone in an instant. But there was no emotion, no longing; just dull acceptance.
She felt like a robot.
“How long have we been here?”
“Hours,” Darian said, exhaustion clear on his face.
“Why?”
“Dear God, you don’t remember a thing, do you?” Darian asked with a sharp laugh.
Robin shook her head with a scowl. “I remember the bite from the vampire you jammed in there. And then, it was like the night of the comet. Just… fire.”
“Well, you’ll be happy to know that your magical powers are in working order. Hubert is freshly human, and my floor is freshly stained, thanks to that fire.”
“I did that? Alone?” she asked.
Darian nodded. “And you didn’t stop there.”
Her scowl deepened.
“Vampires throughout the castle were beating down doors to get to you, and the magical barrier was deteriorating like nothing we’d ever seen. Harley nearly killed herself charging headfirst into the crowd. When I brought you into the dreamscape, your temperature was 267 degrees.”
“That’s…” Robin muttered, shaking her head. “That’s not possible. I should be dead.”
“You’re not a human anymore. We don’t know what conditions your body can withstand, so it would be more apt to say that it wasn’t possible, until now. I have to admit, you gave us quite a fright, and that’s a difficult thing to do for a being as seasoned as I am.”
“Oh,” Robin mumbled, thinking about what Darian had said. “I didn’t… I mean, I wasn’t trying to hurt anybody. I don’t even remember it.”
“Magic like this is rarely a conscious effort,” Darian replied.
“This has happened before?”
“Terrorism is not a human-specific practice,” he said with a sharp laugh. “You’re a nuclear bomb, sent into vampire houses to self-destruct. Casters have attempted attacks like it before, but this one, I’ll admit, is quite creative and difficult to counteract. Magnus shared all of the scraps of information he was given, after some convincing, but Calliope isn’t exactly present to explain her genius, now is she?”
The image of Calliope in the cellar flashed through her mind, just a flicker, and she pushed it down.
“Where did she go?”
Darian shrugged. “Half the world wants her dead, so wherever it is, it’s certainly well hidden.”
Robin’s brow pulled together. “Who wants her dead?”
“The vampires, the elementalists, and likely everybody in between. The guild of casters has laws against experimentation like this, and they
take their reputation quite seriously, so they’re no doubt going after her with all they can muster. As soon as she makes an appearance, she’ll be obliterated.”
Robin frowned, her eyes focusing on the boards of the deck.
Darian’s own gaze centered on her. “Why does that bother you? Certainly, you of all people have grounds to hate her.”
“I do,” Robin admitted. “I hate her more than I hate you.”
This elicited a small smile from Darian. “Everybody hates me.”
“You give them plenty of reason.”
Darian waved a hand in dismissal. “I take it as a compliment. It means I’m doing my job well.”
“That doesn’t bother you?”
“The job of a vampire master is not to be liked or accepted. It’s to keep a race that enjoys ripping people apart in order. If I were upset by my subjects not liking me, I would have been overthrown in a bloody mutiny centuries ago, and the humans would have stoned us in their town squares by now. That’s why transgressions such as Lucidia’s cannot be ignored, though if it were up to me, I’d rather not pursue her.”
“You talk about her like you care,” Robin muttered, her tone biting.
“I do,” Darian said softly.
“You sentenced her to death.”
“Yes. She knew the consequences of her actions. I cannot play favorites.”
“But it wasn’t her fault. It was Calliope’s; she was the one that engineered some magical magnetism that made Lucidia want to protect me.”
“All the same,” Darian said, “I cannot make exceptions to the law.”
“I’m an exception to your law, and you didn’t kill me,” Robin hissed. “I suppose that was greed, though, wasn’t it?”
“Hubris, possibly,” Darian laughed, leaning his head against the wall of the cabin.
“And how’d that work out for you?”
“From what I can tell, you’re at the very least lucid, so that’s a step in the right direction.”
A silence sunk between them, and Robin listened to the steady waves, lapping against the boat.
“So, what happens next?” she asked, slumping against the wall and bracing her arms across her knees. “We can’t stay here forever.”
“You’re right about that,” Darian said. “Last I heard, Charlemagne was trying to figure out the trigger for your ‘episodes’.”