Shadows of Mist, page 3
part #8 of The Vampire Gift Series
“Now, please, if you don’t mind,” he says, his voice straining. “Give me some room. I have very limited capacity in magic, and this requires all the concentration I can muster.”
I do not appreciate his tone, but I know I would be doing him no favors by getting in the way.
I cross my arms and walk to the nearest upturned boulder, dissolve the deadly portal I cast above the hole, and look down into the depths.
The tunnel bores down indefinitely. Even with my enhanced vision I cannot see the end.
I test for the presence of anything down there but find nothing.
Of course, I was unable to sense those godforsaken creatures anyway. Couple that with how little noise they make when traversing the terrain, and it makes for a very formidable enemy.
I touch the strange torrial in my pocket. It gives me a little bit of relief. If—or rather when, according to Felix—more of these things come, at least I will be able to defend my vampires.
I cast the weaves of the deadly “portal” spell once more, putting it back in place, and turn to the vampires on the ground.
I watch Felix make his way slowly from one to the other. As soon as he whispers those words in their ear and casts his spell, the vampires fall into a deep sleep. The ones who are groaning pass right out, while the ones who are unconscious have their breathing hitch, then take on a much deeper, more relaxed pattern.
At least it is working. I am still discomforted by how long it takes. My mind turns to the rest of The Haven. These sort of tunnels could be scattered all over the place. The guards posted outside the stronghold are safe from an eruption of these creatures from the huge crater that I sealed… but they are wholly vulnerable if they come out of the ground like these did.
And of course, there’s still Morgan. I feel a small bit of relief that she is as frail as she is. Were she any stronger, my natural impulse would be to pin her as the mastermind behind the attack… but there is no way she can do something like that from her impoverished state.
I take another look at Felix. He’s slowing. At the same time, I am growing impatient. The vampires are so vulnerable like this. The sooner they recover their wits, the better.
Some of the first vampires that Felix attended to begin to stir. They sit up confused, somewhat dazed… but all in all, back to their regular selves.
I go to them and explain what happened. Anger and indignation is the most common response. But beneath those is a current of something very, very close to humiliation.
How could we have been taken unaware like this?
It takes the better part of three hours for Felix to finish. I keep the vampires who have risen from the spell close to me.
The whole time they gather, the feeling of unease grows and grows.
Finally, Felix is done. He’s taken care of the last vampire. He staggers to his feet, looking gaunt and exhausted—and then topples over.
I gasp and run to him. I hold him up off the ground. I can feel his essence. It is no weaker than usual, but the casting of his spells has taken a great toll on his body.
I know he’ll recover, in time… but I need him here, fully with me, right now.
So, I do a very reckless thing and bite two incisions in my wrist, let the blood pool, then lower it and drip it in his mouth.
A hushed silence descends over the watching vampires when they see what I am doing. They all know how precious my blood is—as do I.
I only allow four small drops to fall on his lips before taking my wrist away.
Felix sputters awake. I can feel his whole body rejuvenated. “As thank you,” I tell him solemnly, “for what you did.”
I stand and offer him my hand to help him up. He graciously accepts.
“I never expected such a great reward,” he tells me. “I did not do it for this.”
“I know,” I say. “But you’ve earned it anyway.”
And, no matter how much I dislike admitting it, Felix is the only vampire here who has the knowledge of how to deal with these things.
Just as I’m turning back to the others, a strange ripple of trepidation crawls down my spine.
Instantly, I whip around. I peer into the surrounding woods but see nothing. I expand my senses to take in the darkness, but I feel nothing.
“Eleira?” Felix asks. “What is it?”
I take one more long, solid look in the direction, and then shake my head.
“Nothing,” I say softly. “I’m just jumping at ghosts.”
“May I suggest bringing our vampires to a more secure location?” Felix asks, even though we both know it’s not a question. “Somewhere we don’t all feel like sitting ducks.”
“You said the torrial protects me from the screams,” I say. “That means that the safest place for the vampires is near me. If another wave comes, I can protect them.”
“I am not questioning your abilities in the least,” Felix says. “But there are strategic considerations that must be made.”
“Fine,” I face him. “What do you suggest we do?”
“Go to the stronghold,” he says, without a second of hesitation. “We know the layout inside and out. My rooms are there, and they contain more artifacts that could end up useful.”
“That’s one option,” I say. “Despite the fact that the greatest crater to the underground from where these things spawn lies in the middle of the damn thing? Not to mention the rubble that fell and rendered half the stronghold inaccessible!”
I turn away from him and face the other vampires. “Felix deserves praise for what he accomplished here, but his idea is ill-advised. I told you all that your former Queen still lives. She is the biggest unknown in all of this. I will not retreat to the stronghold while Morgan still has a breath of life in her.”
I shoot Felix a disapproving look.
“We will gather above ground near her secret tomb. If you are all in one place, I can protect you. At the same time, we do not leave Morgan unattended!”
Murmurs of reluctant approval echo through the vampires. Even though they are recovered physically, mentally I can tell they are still reeling from the shock of being confronted with something that has such a debilitating effect on them.
“Stay close,” I tell them and lead the way.
Chapter Four
Dagan
The Ancients’ Coven.
I pace around our most inhospitable “guest chamber”, feeling reason to rip my hair out in frustration.
Beth has not spoken to me for hours. After our disagreement about who the ancient vampires meant was the second girl of prophecy—I am convinced it’s her, whether she has steadfastly rejected it—After the disagreement devolved into a heated shouting match, she suddenly switched off and simply refused to talk.
Thankfully, the stalemate is interrupted when the sealed door to the room slides open and Vasile steps in.
“Dagan,” he addresses me. “You will come this way.”
Thankful to have some excuse to get away from Beth, I jump at the command.
None of my alacrity, I tell myself, absolutely none, is due to the stronger vampire exerting his influence over me.
Zero.
I follow him out. Just before the door slides shut I hear Beth give a very audible sniff.
I follow the older, stronger vampire through the twisting passages of his home. I still feel uneasy being in the presence of one who so strongly surpasses me in might.
Add to that the fact that there are three more like him, and that puts all my nerves on edge.
A part of me wishes I had my weapons. Not that they would do much good against beings like this. But they would lend me a sense of assurance that I do not have now.
I grunt, irritated at myself for thinking that way. I am not some pathetic fledgling faced with an older vampire for the first time! It doesn’t matter that the difference in strength between Vasile and me is at an even higher relative amount—I should be more sure of myself, even in his presence, because of my centuries in the blood!
An uncanny itch forms at the back of my head. I feel like I’m being watched, even though I am certain these pathways are abandoned.
Just to be sure, I flare my senses, test the surroundings, and find… no one.
I suppress a shudder. Nothing about the situation sits well with me.
But I keep a straight face as I follow Vasile, letting my expression betray none of the internal discomfort.
We walk a long way, through uneven, forever-twisting tunnels. I wonder just how large the compound is—and what secrets it holds.
I feel the tiniest twinge of greed within me. Four of the strongest vampires I’ve ever met, each of them many times stronger than I could ever imagine one to be… four of them have made their homes here for millennia…
The power, the might, the hidden knowledge contained in this place is immense. Being frightened of it does not make any rational sense. The four ancients have not shown me any threats. They rescued Beth and me from the river, removed Cierra’s blasted curse. So far, they have proven themselves much closer to allies than enemies.
But the enormous gulf between us makes it impossible for me to trust them in full. No matter how much good-will they show me, they could turn around on a dime and squash me like a bug. Which means, of course, that they will forever be a threat… and anything that is a threat can never be trusted in full.
A few more minutes of walking in silence finds us before another sealed stone door. Vasile stands before it, raises both arms slowly, and uses his immense mind gift to open the barrier.
I wonder in that moment just how closely our gifts are linked to magic.
“Come inside,” he says. It’s not quite a command, but neither is it a suggestion.
Either way, I step quickly to do what he asks.
I discover another vast, circular room, unfurnished except for a cleaved boulder in the middle. The bottom half remains. The top is nowhere to be seen.
Vasile steps to it and motions for me to come closer. As I do, I realize the surface is a smooth, reflective black—that same sort of material that Logan’s otherworldly orb is made of.
Immediately, I want to ask what it is, but the hierarchy makes it impossible for me to pose impertinent questions.
He moves one hand over the surface, and suddenly it all shifts, as clouds of smoke stream across the plane.
“This is an artifact that allows us to peer anywhere in the world,” he explains, as he continues to hold his hand over it, and the clouds within swirl and storm. “It is omnipresent, but there is a caveat. It will only show you what you need to see.”
I glance at him, then look back down.
“Right now, it is calibrating itself to the two of us,” he continues. “It uses our presence in the room and connects that to the world. I have been here many times by myself, and this object always shows me the same thing. Were you to come by yourself, it would show you something wholly different from what we will see now, together.”
“You can’t direct it where you want?” I ask.
“No. But you can be assured that it only shows you what you absolutely must see. Ah. Look.” The dark clouds part, and a hazy vision begins to form. “It has found what we need.”
He takes his hand away. The halved boulder—a torrial, unless I miss my guess— continues to form its final rendering. I peer intently into it, waiting for the haze to clear.
Once it does, it reveals a nondescript cave in the side of a nondescript mountain.
I frown. That does not help very much.
“Patience,” Vasile says. “We will see more.”
Sure enough, after a few moments, the view zooms closer into the cave. Suddenly, we are thrown inside. We throttle through the long, long tunnels, until we come to a halt at the very end.
There, a woman is bent over a series of decrepit cages, each containing what looks like some sort of starving, rail-thin child.
My breath hitches. Even from behind, just by the hair, I can identify the woman.
Beatrice.
Vasile doesn’t miss my response. “You know the woman?” he asks.
“Aye,” I say. “I do.”
He returns his attention to the granite slob. “Watch.”
I do. Beatrice moves slowly from cage to cage. From her movements, I can tell she is exhausted. She dips a hand inside, and the vile white thing surges up to snap at her fingers with hungry, hissing fangs.
She lets each drain a certain amount of her blood before moving to the next.
On the opposite side of her hideout is a makeshift desk—made of a large log sliced in two with the flat side up. On top of it lies all sorts of papers and parchments, along with a multitude of vials, stoppers, metal instruments, and a whole host of other apparatuses.
On a ruin beyond that sit dozens and dozens of small, intricate, metal figurines, each made of the same light-gray shiny metal silver.
Beatrice turns from the fledglings and goes to the desk. She wraps her hand in a thick cloth and carefully picks up one of the figurines.
She walks back and drops it in a cage.
The thing inside—some sort of child vampire, no doubt an extension of the awful creatures she was making in The Crypts—shrieks in delight and grabs at the figurine to play with it.
Beatrice watches on, emotionless—until the hideous offspring vampire pulls the figurine in and holds it tight to its chest.
A weary but satisfied smile touches Beatrice’s lips.
The vision fades into obscurity and the clouds of black storm back.
Vasile looks at the stone slab for a very long time, silent, in thought. My own mind is questioning the importance of what we saw. He told me this torrial reveals what we need to see? What was so special about this vision in particular that it would—
“You must go to her,” Vasile says, breaking me from my thoughts. “It is clear.”
“What?” I ask, incredulously.
“It is the only reason this vision was revealed to us. You must journey to this woman.”
“Why?”
“You question my command?”
“No.” I burst out too quickly for my liking, too quickly to retain any dignity. Damn the vampire for exerting his goddamn influence over me like that!
“Then what is it, Dagan?”
I have to choose my words very carefully. I feel the hierarchy pressing down on my entire being.
“I know this woman,” I say. “She was my King’s concubine. She conducted horrible experiments deep underground. She was trying to create a breed of vampire immune to light.”
“It seems her research has continued,” he observes.
“I killed all the ones she made after she fled,” I say. I decide not to mention Riyu’s greater role in that. “They were physically weak, but they proved to be formidable opponents.”
“Do the wretched things we saw in the caves frighten you, Dagan?”
“No,” I bristle. “But they are barely formed! We have more important matters to tend to. Like the second girl of prophecy!”
He shakes his head, almost in pity. “How little you understand,” he says softly.
“Tell me what I don’t understand,” I challenge, fortifying my place for a moment.
His lips thin. “In the outside world, you are very strong, yes? You are among the very top of vampires who make themselves known?”
What does he mean by “those who make themselves known”? Is he implying there are more as old as him?
“Yes,” I answer truthfully.
“That means you are unused to being made to subjugate. Is that so?”
You know it’s so, you miserable old bastard, I want to say.
Instead I answer with another, “Yes.”
“Then you are in luck, because you will soon be among the upper world of vampires again.”
“Listen,” I begin. “Beth and I came here to ask for your help in dealing with the King of The Crypts. He has one almost as strong as you feeding him blood. He has perverted his mind with blood magic. He was once leader of the greatest coven in the world. Now we fear the darkness is taking over his mind. I would not put it past him to turn on his own vampires!”
Vasile looks at me for a very long time. “You came here to beg for help?”
“If it comes to that, yes,” I reply.
“Then this is our answer, and I speak for all the vampires of this group. We do not concern ourselves with the trifling affairs of the upper world.”
A surge of anger shoots through me at being jerked around for so long. I fight to keep it down, lest it land me in hot water…
“Besides,” he continues. “We have already given you vast swaths of knowledge. You and Beth are the only ones to know the full extent of the prophecy. That is worth more than you know.”
“So the other girl is her!” I exclaim. “You all but admitted it! It is Beth.”
“I did not say anything of the kind,” he answers obliquely.
“Why give us that information otherwise? Why, if it is not her?”
“It is not your role to know ‘why’, Dagan,” he answers. “There are many currents swirling in this world that you have no conception of.”
“Except that which you’ve deemed meaningful enough to share?” I ask bitterly.
The question surprises even me. It comes off… so womanish.
“You are fighting your destiny, Dagan,” he says. “You have just seen what you are intended to do.”
“So you want me to find Beatrice. Why? What good will that do?” I give him a vicious smile. “I have orders to kill her the moment I see her, right from my King.”
“Then, presumably, you will follow those orders,” he says. “Not to do so would be a grave disservice to your King.”
“Damn the King,” I snarl. “I killed him in that other realm, wherever it is you sent me. We don’t even know if he’s yet alive.”
“Then you’ve already gotten everything you want,” he says smoothly. “The help that you requested has been bequeathed.”
Frustration threatens to boil over. “You’re provoking me.”
“I am telling you what you want to hear.”
I turn my back to him and pace to the opposite end of the room. “So you truly want me to go find Beatrice, is that it?”
