Eternal Dawn
For Jonah and Ellie – the littlest but brightest lights in the whole world
And to the Cheese Sandwiches of The Wheeler School Class of 2019, my very first 7th grade class; I promised I would dedicate a book to you. May you live up to your class name and write fiction that
soars!
Dear Girl in Red,
I dreamed of you again today. You stood in a field of lavender that stretched all the way to the horizon. The sky was orange and burning. Where are these worlds that I cannot
touch? Why are you always there? You stood in the centre of this field wearing a red gown. When I reached you, you vanished, leaving nothing behind but a crimson feather. Is this a symbol? What are
you trying to tell me?
Today is a three-year anniversary. Three years since Justin Enos went missing from this school. They say he vanished, taken from his room in the middle of the night. No sign of
foul play. No fingerprints left behind. Just a room with no one in it. They found lacrosse sticks leaning against walls, tipped-over coffee mugs and unfinished English papers.
You have something to do with this, don’t you? Girl in red, come to me. Come to me and tell me your name. Are you real?
I must be near you. I know this. You know it too. The truth is in your eyes.
Rhode
HAPTER
1
1418, Hampstead, England – the Heath
‘Genevieve Beaudonte! We must practise your letters . . .
tonight
.’ I called to an adjacent row in the orchard. Where had she run off to?
I picked up the last basket of apples just as a crack of thunder prickled the hairs on the back of my neck. Grey clouds travelled across the sky in a continuous dance, unfurling and folding in
on themselves. I inhaled the scent of the soil and of the apples that hung from the trees above me. My three-year-old sister, wearing a filthy frock, jumped out before me. Her short curly hair
stuck out from her head at crazy angles.
‘Thunder! Did you hear it, Lenah? My favourite!’ Genevieve cried.
I held on to her hand as we made our way out of my father’s orchard and towards the house.
‘Perfect weather to study your letters,’ I said.
‘But why? It is
hard
,’ Genevieve complained with a drop of her head.
‘You will need it someday,’ I said, and lightly pushed her so she would move faster.
An image overwhelmed me:
I playfully push my best friend Tony and he trips over his feet. He turns to me, open mouthed and laughing
. The images came like bullets:
concrete
sidewalks; steam rising from coffee mugs; a school with a stone tower. Friends.
Even the smallest movement could bring back the memories of my favourite place in the modern world: Wickham Boarding School.
‘Why?’ Genevieve asked. Her voice rooted me to the present conversation. ‘Why will I need to learn to read?’
‘I told you – when you are older I will explain. But for now . . .’ I pulled her gently by the back of her dress to stop her from walking. I bent down to look in her eyes; they
were exactly the same colour as mine, a stormy blue. She had the longest eyelashes of anyone in my family.
‘For now we must keep it a secret. Not even Mama and Papa can know,’ I said.
‘Tell me the story again tonight. The one about the maiden and her true love,’ she whispered. She meant my story of the Vampire Queen. The one I told her in darkness. The one of
Rhode . . . and me.
‘Our secret?’ I said.
She nuzzled my nose and I took that as a yes.
I stood up and we headed towards the house in the distance. The smoke from the chimney swirled into the sky. Genevieve tossed an apple into the air, and just as it bounced off of her open palm
the thud of
knowing
punched me in the stomach.
I straightened up and took a step backwards, letting Genevieve chase the rolling apple.
Something
was coming.
We should run.
But would we make it? The hair on my arms stood on end. When an otherworldly creature enters into a human world, the energy shifts and the air crackles.
My hands trembled, so I balled them into fists and we continued on towards the house. Row by row, I expected something or
someone
to materialize between the gaps in the trees. A hand
could curl around the bark followed by a body, and that person, whoever he was, might want to hurt us. Even kill us.
Genevieve continued to skip along the path.
‘Darling,’ I said. ‘Get to the house. Tell Mama I will be there anon.’ There was a quiver in my voice that I hoped she did not notice.
‘No. I want you to walk with me,’ she said, and continued to toss the apple up and down, up and down. She dropped it, chased after it, picked it up and threw it into the air
again.
My fingertips tingled. I placed the basket of apples softly to the ground. If this supernatural being wanted to hurt Genevieve or me, I would need both hands free.
‘Go along,’ I said to Genevieve. ‘I forgot someone – I mean,
something
,’ I corrected.
‘All right,’ she groaned. The back of her dress bounced as she skipped to the house. By a sliver of luck, she did not turn around. The latch closed and I stared at the wooden door of
the house, waiting to see if she would step back outside.
I closed my eyes again and inhaled the smell of rich soil, the oppressive humidity and the impending rain. I attempted to calm myself by drawing a deep breath. Goose bumps erupted over my arms
and the hum grew louder making little pops of sound in the air.
It was behind me.
‘Three years,’ I said to the unknown entity. ‘Three years and I finally stopped –’ I paused, turning behind me – ‘looking over my shoulder.’ But
the word shoulder was cut off. I gasped. There was a blast of red light, a sharp crack, and the sky opened up. I clutched at my chest as a body fell from the tops of the trees.
Suleen hit the ground with a hard smack. I ran to him and fell to my knees at his side. His white robes were tattered, hanging in shreds. Bite wounds spread over his neck and arms. They came
from an attack. It was unmistakable; dozens of circular puncture wounds spread over his body.
Vampire wounds.
What kind of vampire drains another? And why? For blood? I had never heard of that before. Vampire blood is of no use to another vampire. The blood must be drawn from the living. It is the death
of the human that is the magical sacrifice; the blood keeps the mind alive in a dead body.
I helped Suleen on to his back. The oldest and most powerful vampire in the world rested his head in my lap.
‘Justin is . . .’ Suleen’s voice failed.
Justin?
I placed my hands on Suleen’s shoulders and they were immediately covered with his blood. ‘Justin is what? Is he –’ I had to draw a deep breath to get it out. ‘Is
he dead?’
Suleen squinted. ‘The sunlight. It’s too much.’
I raised myself on to my knees to shield him from the sky above. I hoped to make a large enough shadow.
‘There is a revolution. Walk into the sunrise and go back. Stop him.’
‘A revolution? Suleen, stop who? Who do I stop?’
Suleen’s eyes widened with panic; he seemed desperate for me to understand. A line of red dripped from the corner of his mouth.
‘He is still a vampire,’ he growled.
‘
Justin?
’ My voice shook as I spoke. ‘Suleen, that’s impossible. Fire said it herself – if I came back here to the medieval world, that history would be
changed. My past would be erased.’
‘He has made them from your blood,’ he said.
‘Made
who
? Suleen, look at me.’ This made no sense. I needed more time.
He was bleeding out too fast. I stuck out my arm, offering my wrist. If Suleen fed from me, his wounds would heal instantly. He was far too damaged at this point for accelerated vampire healing
to save his life.
Suleen needed my help and he needed my blood.
‘Feed from me. Do it,’ I commanded. His feeble fingers pushed my hand away.
‘You must go back.’ He grasped my dress in a clench of his fist. ‘Justin made . . .’ He had to stop to gather the strength to speak. ‘He made them from . . . your .
. .’
He gurgled something I couldn’t make out. His eyes widened even more as the blood oozed out of the bite marks all over his body.
‘Kill Justin,’ he begged.
‘Suleen, please.’ I stuck my wrist directly under his nose.
He did not feed.
A roll of light ran over the tops of the apple trees, down to the orchard floor and on to us. Suleen lifted his chin to the sun breaking through the clouds. I could not block his whole body; the
beams of sunlight were too wide. He smiled, just faintly. The sides of his mouth curled upward just enough that I was positive he was
basking
in the light.
And then . . .
The oldest vampire to ever exist turned to ash.
Suleen was still whole but seemed to be a statue made of ivory-coloured cinders.
‘No,’ I whispered.
He’s going to blink those powdery lids and look out at me with his brown eyes. He’s fine. Just be patient.
The statue of cinders didn’t move.
My fingers trembled as they reached out. At my touch, his form dissolved into a pile of powder. I gasped and sat back on my heels.
How could someone so indestructible turn to ash in my hands?
I stood up and looked around. How had Suleen travelled to 1418? Last time I had seen him, I was living in modern times. Suleen, despite his enormous power as a vampire, couldn’t manipulate
time.
I searched through the grey shadows falling over the orchard.
Fire could. Fire could travel through time.
She was a member of the Aeris, one of the four elements of the world: earth, wind, and water being the others. She had enabled me to change my vampire past and return to my family and the
medieval era. What had happened in my absence?
Justin’s broad shoulders and brilliant smile sifted through my mind. He wasn’t supposed to remain a vampire. I didn’t want to think of his blond hair and casual cadence.
Because if he was a vampire, he would now be hardened and robotic.
‘How?’ I asked aloud in the empty orchard. When I had last seen Justin, Odette had made him a vampire, but that was supposed to change when I came back to the medieval world.
Hadn’t I said that already to Suleen – that reality was meant to be erased when I came back?
I rubbed my fingers and frowned at Suleen’s remains.
As a human, Justin was a daredevil adrenaline junkie, but he had never been violent. There was no way. Not Justin. If he had attacked Suleen, someone had to be influencing him, no,
encouraging
him to be so dangerous. What had Suleen said?
Your blood
. . .
He made them.
Suleen’s voice resonated in my head.
What did Justin make from my blood? No – more specifically, how could he
get
my blood if the Aeris changed history?
A crack of thunder shot through me and I jumped just as the first globule of rain fell on the tip of my nose. Another crack!
And the sky opened.
‘No!’ I cried, and clawed at the earth before it melted to mud. I couldn’t let Suleen’s ashes wash away; they had to be buried, with respect. The rain came hard, pelting
the orchard.
‘Lenah!’ Genevieve called for me from the open window of the house.
Oh no . . . not now!
I scraped the ground, making a hole so the ashes could be buried deep below the surface. My knuckles knocked against roots and rocks.
I dug into the soil with one hand, and moved the ash with the other. I continued scooping the earth and pushing in the silvery white remains. I withdrew my hands from the ground with an ache. My
knuckles bled, making pink watery lines over my fingers. Orchard dirt had collected under my fingernails, but I didn’t care. Suleen’s ashes were safely buried underneath the wet earth
and that’s all that mattered to me. My hair stuck in long strands to my skin, sending cool trickles of water down my back.
He did not deserve to die. His ancient blood had dripped from his mouth and body on to my clothes. It stained and blotted my work dress. ‘Go for—’ I tried to say the familiar
vampire phrase aloud. I wanted to wish his soul peace. Why should it be so hard to just say goodbye? After all, Suleen had taught the saying to me long ago.
My back seemed heavy and I bent over, placing my palm on the wet ground.
This can’t be real. He’s not gone; this is a trick.
