Shadows of Mist, page 24
part #8 of The Vampire Gift Series
“And what to look for,” Lorne adds.
I shake my head quickly, trying to make sense of this. “Are you telling me you know what you were before?” I gesture at their bodies. “Before you were born in the flesh?”
“Of course, we know. As do you. We are all energy, born of the source.”
“Source? Source of what?”
“The source” Sute says reverently. “The source of all creation. All that ever was, all that is, all that ever will be, comes from the source.” She waves a hand through the air, tracing a beautiful line of magic with it. “It is what we call upon when we do this.”
She shrugs. “There are higher powers in this world, Eleira, and in all worlds. But they exist all as part of a common core, and in a manifestation that our minds simply cannot fathom. But the divinity is there. It always has been and always will be.”
“Fine,” I say, not wanting to get sidetracked by a theological discussion. “You believe that you were placed on this earth at the wrong time. But can you actually prove it? Do you remember what your lives were before?”
“The proof is in the prophecy,” Allura responds. “And we have no memory of the past. That is one requirement for all souls willing to be made to flesh. Past memories may not haunt them. We are each given a clean slate because our pasts are infinite.”
“Time is a loop,” Sute volunteers. “Much like the source, it always was, it always will be. Sentient beings have a beginning and an end. To assign the same values to the universe is to make a mistake of horrendous proportions. There was no start to things. Just like there will never be an end. We exist on the winds of time and the fabric of light itself. What is light? It is energy. What is time? It is a loop through space, simply the illusion of forward movement. The truth is, it’s a perpetual loop. The scale of what I speak of is impossible for creatures like us to imagine. So, we make up hundreds of fables, all trying to lead us to that which we can never know—” she raps her knuckles against the table, “—never, that is, until we are returned to our celestial form, when we take on the purity of our soul and achieve the perspective we had before we were made into blood and bone in this reality.
I exhale slowly. “That’s a lot to take in.”
“It is vital to have an understanding, and a respect for, your place in the universe,” Allura says. “It is especially important for someone like you, who was able to summon a demon before visiting the other realm.”
She angles her body closer. “But of course, that’s not true, is it? You are the girl of prophecy for one reason, and that reason defines you.”
My throat seizes up. Is this finally the answer I’ve been looking for?
When she simply looks at me, in expectation, I prompt, softly, “What reason?”
“Simple,” she says, after a long pause. “You were the first human child to be born in the Demon Realm.”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Eleira
The Queen’s Apartments.
I stagger back, away from the table, in absolute shock.
My chair goes toppling over.
“No,” I breathe, feeling my chest constrict in apprehension. “No, it can’t be.”
“Why not?” the witches ask, speaking as one. “What else could have marked you as the girl spoken of in prophecy?”
“The stars…” I say vaguely, gesturing at the ceiling. “Something about the constellations…”
I trail off. The denial of what the witches have told me rings hollow in my ears.
“What constellations, Eleira?” the Forsaken Sisters ask. “Have they ever been shown to you? Have you been told how or why they are important? Come back to the table.” Allura stands to right my chair. She smiles gently at me. “Sit.”
Slowly, I do, feeling the creeping apprehension all over my body. It is not dissipating.
“The stars were aligned, here, on earth, from this perspective, the moment you were born. That much is true. But they simply heralded your coming. They did not imbue anything of importance on you themselves.”
The witches shift to speak one at a time. “They were a sign, Eleira, to those watching from earth. So that both witches and vampires knew you had come.”
“But that means… that means…” That means so many things, and I cannot find words to express them all. Rebecca looks at me with a wholly bemused expression. She must be thinking how foolish it is for me to let her listen in on all of this. But for what she’s done, for what she knows, she is tied tighter to me than she ever suspects.
So, for that reason alone I let her remain. I want her to know enough information for her to be unable to leave my side. I am sealing her to me, because if I don’t, I fear I’ll loosen my hold on her over time, and thus make her into an even bigger threat.
I take a deep breath, trying to make sense of my chaotic thoughts.
“Who were my parents?” I ask.
Lorne looks at me with a sad expression. “That is not for us to say.”
“Why?” I challenge. “Why not tell me? You were there, weren’t you? You were in the Demon Realm. You felt me when I arrived. You had control of that world. You protected me, even though you could have killed me.”
“We would not have killed you. However, knowing what you are, the demons would have.”
“Who are my parents?” I repeat.
Allura speaks. “We cannot say, Eleira—” she holds up a hand when she sees me about to interrupt, “—because we do not know.”
“How can you not know? You were there, you went there; it was your realm!” I scream.
“It is not our realm,” Sute responds, with no small amount of distaste. “We were cocooned there, forced into hiding there, in order to survive. To survive, so that we could see the child of prophecy make good on what the fates have decreed she must do.”
“And what if I don’t believe in fate?” I challenge. “What if I don’t like the idea that we do not have control?”
Lorne chuckles softly. “Fate is not about giving up control. Quite the opposite. It is about doing what you were put on this earth to do—to live up to your own greatest potential.”
“People cheat fate all the time,” Allura adds. “They do so by ignoring their true calling. By rejecting the miraculous gifts of life they have been given. Fate, Eleira, is simply the highest manifestation of achievement possible for your physical, spiritual, emotional self. Fate is what gives rise to all the marvels of the world. It is not something that constricts—it only frees. Your great benefit is that you know what fate has planned for you. You know the absolute pinnacle of what you might accomplish.”
“The prophecy,” I whisper.
“That’s right. Nearly everybody else simply stumbles through life, doomed to mediocrity because of what they refuse to do. They squander their great human potential. They are men lurching down a hallway in the dark, trying doors at random in the vague hope that what lies on the other side is what they truly seek. What their soul was placed on this earth to do, before being corrupted by the distraction of fleshly pleasures. You were placed in the same hallway, but the path before you was lit by the glow of the door you must enter. You can refuse it, of course—but you would not have gotten where you are now if you did not have an internal fire.”
At some point during her speech, I realize, my apprehension faded. Fate, when explained that way, makes so much sense to me.
Why would I reject true achievement? Achievement must be earned through sweat, blood, and tears—not some meaningless “right”, handed to me on a silver platter with no responsibility or expectations attached.
In fact, more than anything, this sort of perspective energizes me. Allura is right. Fate gives life purpose, and the prophecy gives me a clear, tangible goal.
“All right,” I say, feeling the conviction seep back into me, strengthening my voice. “All right, I can accept that. But what about my parents? Do you really not know anything about them?”
“All we have are guesses at this point, Eleira,” Sute answers. “Guesses that would only confuse you and not bring you peace. The truth is, we simply don’t know.”
I exhale heavily. “Fine,” I say. “Fine. Can’t squeeze water out of a stone. So, you’re here to protect me? To guide me? Why? How did that responsibility fall on you?”
“We chose it, Eleira. There is much you don’t know, and much we have to speak of.” The sisters glance, all as one, at Rebecca. She pretends not to notice. “The most important thing for you is to trust us. We will not steer you wrong.”
“I do trust you,” I say. “To a degree. Blind trust would be ludicrous. You cannot expect it of me, and I will not give it.”
“That is fine. You are independent.”
“How did you choose to be the ones who bear responsibility for me?”
“Because we were there when the prophecy was first spoken. We heard it when it was newly cemented in this world. The prophecy rang true, but the time was wrong. It was written down and passed on through the ages. But not all parts of it. Some parts were considered too dangerous to be inked and made everlasting. Those parts, Eleira, are why we’re here. To tell you of them and to guide you through the traps that threaten to ensnare you.”
I feel the conversation shift in tone from the abstract to the concrete. “Then we will speak of that when we are properly alone. First, we have to deal with Morgan—and Rebecca.”
I rise from the table and start to stride back and forth. I’m not sure who I inherited the habit from.
It could even be something I saw the last Queen do.
“Rebecca, tell the others of what I promised you.”
She gives an ingratiating, sickly smile. “Certainly,” she says. “You told me that in return for sparing your vampires, you will grant me access to Morgan, to do with as I wish.”
“Almost,” I correct. “But not quite. I said you will have access to Morgan. I also said she would not be under my protection when you so do. I did not, however, tell you that you have free rein to do with her whatever you will.”
“You—”
I cut her off with a raised hand. “I might have implied it, sure. But that is your fault for not clarifying.”
She chokes out a forced laugh. “You are again reneging on your word?”
“No,” I say. “I value my word as much as I value my life. I made you a promise, and I will make good on that as agreed. However, you should know that before our deal, I made one with the Forsaken Sisters, also.”
“Yes, I know all about that,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “Do you want to rub it in my face again?”
“I told them I would not kill Morgan,” I say. “And that once they arrived to our coven, she would fall into their custody.”
Rebecca seethes.
I let my gaze sweep over the ancient witches. “That means that whatever qualms you have with Morgan, you must take up with them.”
“Unacceptable!” she screeches, slamming her hands against the oak table. “You destroyed all those I had painstakingly made. You stole everything from me, in a false truce, only to spit in my face for trusting you as soon as my back was turned!”
“Quiet,” I snap, and send a blast of the influence at her. She cowers back. “You are lucky I even let you live. You murdered Riyu. You took me prisoner. Your screechers threatened the entire damn Haven! You have absolutely no right to make demands. From now on, you answer to them.”
I give Allura, Lorne, and Sute a serious look. “Rebecca has done some incredible things, but with a malicious intent. She has found a way to block access to the Currents through a potion. She knows how to repel them from the air using some mixture of herbs. And, more importantly, she’s done a soul transfer—”
All three of the Forsaken Sisters immediately focus on me.
“Did you say soul transfers?” Allura asks seriously.
“Rebecca has a vampire, a young fledgling, trapped beneath the ground, in a torrial. She told me that she has restored her own beauty and youth by forming some sort of parasitic link with the fledgling and drawing out her soul into her own body.”
The Forsaken Sisters turn on Rebecca as one. “This is great evil,” they say, fixing her in place with their eyes. “It must be immediately undone.”
“You kill me, and the fledgling dies,” Rebecca exclaims, desperation tinging her voice. “She is a breed of the Royal Family. Eleira would not permit that.”
“No, and neither will I let them kill you,” I say firmly. “You can relax, Rebecca… for now, you are not under any undue threat.”
She clears her throat, straightens her dress, and sits back down.
“We must discuss this without her hearing,” the joined voices of the Sisters ring in my head. “What has been done, if true, is an abomination that cannot be allowed!”
“We will deal with it at the proper time,” I inform them, speaking out loud. “Right now, I want to understand what you intend with Morgan. You made me promise to keep her alive. Why? Since this concerns Rebecca, I want her to hear.”
Rebecca, for her part, gives a minuscule nod of appreciation.
The three witches look at each other, breaking out of their uniformity.
Sute addresses me. “Morgan has knowledge of occult things we are unfamiliar with. She has dabbled into that which is not fully part of the Elemental Forces or of Blood Magic. Somehow, she has learned secrets that have long eluded the witch clans of the world.”
“She’s had very many years to perfect her ability,” Lorne adds. “The ritual you described that she had begun with the Narwhark blood is of great interest to us, because of what it might have achieved. Furthermore, her constant disregard for the natural forces governing life and death cannot be left unstudied. Severing a soul from a body and binding it in an inanimate object… it is the absolute pinnacle of that which must not be done.”
“She is also the sister of the fourth member of our company,” Allura says. “Cierra was down with us, but she betrayed the trust we granted her. She came back to this world many, many years before she was supposed to, abandoning us in the Demon Realm. She may have had contact with Morgan—and for that we need to speak to the former Queen.”
Rebecca looks at them. I see she’s biting her tongue.
“Do you have anything you want to add?” I ask.
She licks her lips once. “Yes.” She addresses the witches. “Morgan’s ungodly experiment was first carried out on me. I know what it’s like to lose your soul.” She shudders. “Ever since that moment, I have vowed my revenge. I hold no ill will to the vampires of this coven. Nor—” she sighs, “—nor to Eleira. The Haven Queen did what she thought she must do to protect her vampires. I don’t think you are here to save Morgan. Nor are you here to give her the benefit of the doubt. And I…” she pauses, gathering her courage, then finishes in a rush. “I want to learn from you. I don’t have a lot of natural ability in magic. But I have made up for that by studying what I could my whole life. I will share with you what I know, if you’d like, in return for one thing.”
Allura raises an eyebrow. “Are you in a position to make such requests, prisoner?” she asks.
“Let her speak,” I say, feeling a bit of curiosity about the problem.
Rebecca clears her throat. “I want you to restore me,” she says. She looks down at her body. “I don’t want to live in this shell, this… illusion. This is my body, but the force that animates it is not my own. These are my thoughts, but they come to me through an all-encompassing haze. This is the best outcome I could dream of, hatching up plans for revenge over the hundreds of years I spent underground. Yet, now I see there is a better way.” Her voice takes on a desperate quality. “Please. I don’t want to live like this. The fit is wrong. My body fights the foreign soul inside it every minute. Everything is tight. Nothing is natural. Please, if you can restore my own soul to me… I won’t need… I won’t have to…”
Her voice breaks, and I think she’s about to break down, when Allura stands, walks around the table, and stops by Rebecca’s side.
She reaches out and places her hand over Rebecca’s. The blue glow of magic surrounds them both. She weaves such an intricate net, and so quickly, that I have no chance of keeping up.
It looks like a silver gown, made of the most delicate material. It flows over Rebecca, coating her body, cocooning her in its embrace.
I watch, fascinated as the glow pulses with her heartbeat. All four Currents are intricately put together, and the threads interweave and multiply, growing in complexity, until it becomes impossible for me to distinguish Earth from Water, Fire from Air. As it settles around Rebecca’s body, it gives a final flash, and then sinks into her skin.
Rebecca gasps. Allura steps away. The Currents cut off, the weaving of the spell is done.
And Rebecca sits there, mouth agape, just staring at Allura in amazement.
The older witch nods and returns to her seat.
“What did you do?” I inquire. “The complexity of that… there’s no way to guess the effect.”
“We provided her the respite she was asking for,” Allura says.
I realize, belatedly, that all three witches were channeling, and all three contributed to the spell.
“I feel… clean,” Rebecca marvels.
“What did you do?” I repeat.
“We helped her body relax, to accept the foreign element,” Allura says. She looks at Rebecca. “We are willing to consider your proposal. But I can only speak for the three of us. The decision ultimately rests with your Queen.”
“What is there to think about?” I ask. “If you can restore Cassandra to herself, while simultaneously helping Rebecca…”
“Cassandra is the one whose soul she stole?” Allura inquires. Her eyes come on me. “An unlinking could be done. But it requires a great amount of magic. More than the three of us channel together.”
Rebecca visibly slumps.
“It is also extremely dangerous. Not just for Rebecca and the other. But for us. We’ll need to know the risk we are taking is proper.”
