Vampire Girl 3: Silver Flame (15 page)

Dean squats down, studying the fake head with blue and black hair.

"Did the council approve this?" I ask.

"No." Dean shakes his head, no joy in him. "Like I said, Levi didn’t share his plans."

I keep my voice low. "How does he intend to respond when people realize Arianna and I yet live?"

"You assume he's thought that far ahead." Dean pauses. "Perhaps he will claim you are using illusion to impersonate them. People will believe whatever it is that makes life simpler."

I grunt. I forget how simple the common folk can be, but I have seen it to be true. One speech can sway hundreds, one lie change the minds of thousands, and once they are seduced by their fear and lies and a charismatic charlatan who feeds on their basest instincts, no amount of fact or truth or reality will shake them from their madness.

"Have you heard from Asher?" I whisper. "Has he plans to fight this?"

"If he does, he has not shared them with me.’" Dean stands back up, dusting off his black cloak. "He does not support Levi however, that is clear. He will try to expose this for the farce it is."

I nod, and then notice a man approaching us. His cloak is gray and torn and covers his face. He keeps his head tilted down, his identity hidden. He brushes by my shoulder. "The Prince of War still lives," he says. Then he stops, silent, and I realize he’s waiting for a response.

"The Prince of War still lives," I say.

The man nods. "Go to the Bloody Mare Inn. Tell the man there what you just told me, and may the blood bless you." He walks away then, slipping down an alley.

"Well, should we go?" asks Dean. "Sounds like fun."

"Or a trap."

"No one knows who we are—"

"A trap for those who still support Fenris Vane, no matter who they are."

Dean pauses. "Oh, good point. Well, if it is a trap in some rundown inn, we’ll just fight our way out. We couldn’t do it out here in the open, but we could sure do it there."

I nod, and then lead Dean to the inn. It’s still early, but the clouds turn dark with a coming storm, and rain begins to fall. The Bloody Mare stands in the oldest part of town, the rotten corner by the wall where beggars and whores dwell and bandits practice their trade. I make sure my cloak doesn’t cover my blade to keep the hungry and desperate away. People will turn into beasts when all human things are taken from them. And I do not blame them.

A man and woman scuffle down an alley. At first, I think it a brawl, but then I see the blood on her neck. He’s feeding off her. I charge forward and ram my fist into the vampire’s gut. The woman, a human with pale skin and dark eyes recoils away. At first I do not know why, but then I see it. She fears me. Even more than him. She thinks I beat him so I can take her for myself. The very thought disgusts me. "Leave. Both of you." As the man scrambles away, I turn to the woman. "Get somewhere safe. Not all have forgotten the way things were. Soon, Stonehill will be a place of peace once more."

She nods, though I can see in her eyes she does not believe me. Then she runs.

Dean puts a hand on my shoulder. "Do not blame yourself, brother. This is Levi’s doing."

"It is my failure that gives him the power." I look away, the human blood in the mud drawing at my senses. I have prohibited human feeding in Stonehill for ages. And Levi has desecrated even that.

Before the pull of blood grows stronger, I continue on, and reach the inn, where a sign of a red mare hangs.

I knock on the door just as the sky turns dark and thunder crashes. Someone opens a slit in the wood. "Closed we are," says a man. "We be making repairs."

I lean in closer and speak softly. "Fenris Vane still lives."

The man closes the slit in the door. Then metal screeches as a lock is unlocked and the inn opens. "Welcome, brothers. Welcome!" The man wraps me in a hug so hard my spine cracks, and I see he is even larger than I. "I be Bolsten," he says. Then motions to the rest of the inn, a collection of men and women, some vampire, some Shade, drinking and smoking in the dim light cast by torches. "This here be all those who don’t support that lying-son-of-a-whore Levi."

Dean raises a finger. "If Levi was born to a whore, what does that make his brothers?"

Bolsten shakes his head. "No way Levi and the other princes share a mum. Just no bloody way."

I can’t help but grin. "I believe you’re right, my friend. I believe you’re right more than you know." Bolsten smiles and steps to the side, and Dean and I take seats at the bar. My brother orders drinks.

The liquid is thick with blood and alcohol and something sweet. I don't usually partake in drink, but after today? To hell with it.

After a while, the alcohol begins to take effect, and I begin to mingle more than I usually would. This does not seem a trap, for a trap would have already sprung. I drink some more and listen to the others.

"I can’t believe they hanged the prince," says Mary, an elderly woman who was once human, but was turned many hundreds of years ago.

"No they didn’t," says Roke, a tall, spindly Shade who pours the drinks. "I’ve met the prince. He’s far taller than that bloke they beheaded."

"And where was his wolf?" says Veni, a Shade girl with bright green hair, smoking a pipe in the corner. "Everyone knows he never goes anywhere without his wolf."

"Trickery," says Bolsten, the giant vampire. "Tis magic trickery. Keeper was always loyal, he was. But if you walk close enough to Stonehill, you can still hear the screaming."

I clutch my mug harder, praying I can do something to ease Kal’s pain. Soon. Soon I will. I raise my drink. "Fenris Vane will return," I say. "And on that day, the very hounds of hell will ride at his heels."

Everyone at the inn throws back their heads and howls. "Aye," says Bolsten. "Fenris Vane be the greatest of all seven princes, you hear?" He reaches his mug out to my brother.

Dean speaks through gritted teeth, as if he were taking a vow of celibacy. "Yes… greatest of them all."

They toast, and I can’t help but grin.

Then Bolsten leans closer to us both and lowers his voice. "You two seem on the right side of things, I can tell. So, I’m letting you know, there are plans in the making. Me and other folks, we’re rallying. And not a small group either. I’m talking an army. We’re getting ready. And soon, we’re going to tear that bastard down from the castle, and string him up just as he done to the Shade."

I sip my drink, careful with my next words. "As much as I like drinking, I’d much rather be fighting. Tell us more, and we’ll stand at your side."

Bolsten seems to think it over, then smiles. "Stay around a while. We have an important member arriving later. He'll tell you more then, if he deems you be right and all."

I nod. "Thank you."

In time, day turns to night, and Dean and I slip away to a private booth as we wait for the important member to arrive. I feel heavy with drink, and say things I perhaps shouldn’t. "So why are you helping me, truly?"

Dean lowers his voice. He stares at the fireplace roaring across from us. "Believe it or not, I care about you, brother. I remember when mother brought you back home as a babe. The others, already cast out, already scarred by war, resented the idea of another sibling. But I, perhaps because of my own curse, was thrilled at the idea of a little brother. I could see the beauty in it, the potential. So I took you as my charge. You may think of me as your smaller brother, but I was bigger once. I remember teaching you how to cheat at cards. Sneaking you your first wine." He smiles and refills our cups from a bottle. "I care for you, Fenris. I always have. And I will fight for you to the end."

I try to remember the things he speaks of, but all I get are flashes. Flashes of a caring brother slipping me an ace under his sleeve. Tending to a wounded knee. I do not have words for what he has shared, so instead I raise a cup to Dean.

We toast.

I try to say something. Anything. "I—"

The door opens.

A gust of wind rushes in.

And I turn to see the two men who just arrived. The important guest we have awaited.

Asher.

"There will be many pits of ash this night. Many new graves dotting the landscapes beyond, some marked, others not. Many empty homes and hearts that once were full. And in the end, there will be more war. This is what I have wrought. I am the Prince of War. I am the Prince of Death."

—Fenris Vane

My days are
filled with helping Seri in the Healing Tree and my nights training with Varis. He teaches me spells to enhance my senses, and we track a rabbit in the forest. It takes me half a day, but eventually I begin to see prints where before I only saw mud. I smell fur where before I could only make out flowers. And by the time the sun sets, I find the bunny in a field, resting. We do the same exercise the next day. And the next.

Sometimes, when I have time, I visit Es and Pete.

Their first few days in the Moonlight Garden, they stayed to the palace, but as time went on I noticed them exploring further. Es found the training yard and started practicing the sword. Sometimes, when Varis or Seri can spare me, I help her with the basics, and she learns quickly. I notice the soldiers taking a liking to her, and they help out with more advanced techniques, especially when I’m not around. Soon, Es is close to surpassing my level, and we boast about who would win in a serious match.

Meanwhile, Varis takes an interest in Pete, and I see them meditating together at dawn. Other times, I catch Pete in the library with Baldar, reading books on herbs and brewing potions. He’s always had a sense about the magical, and now that he can experience it first hand, I see him happier than I have in a long time.

About two weeks after arriving in the Pleasure Palace, my sleeping potion runs out, and I find Baldar’s shop by the lion fountain. It's a quaint little place, tucked away between a book store and a pottery shop. Green vines cover the white walls, and blue lanterns flicker inside. When I enter, Yami flying around me, a bell signals my arrival, and I’m assaulted by all manner of aromas, some pleasant and others less so.

Baldar stands on a ladder, placing a decorative dagger on a high shelf, when he notices me. "Ah, so good to see you again, my dear." The short Fae descends the ladder and greets me with a formal bow. "Anything I can help you with?"

"The sleeping potion. I’d like to buy more."

He nods, his face red and happy. "Ah, yes of course. I’ll have to brew a new batch, but it’ll only take a moment." He walks behind the counter, where lay all sorts of pestles and cauldrons. Then he grabs different herbs from various jars and begins to grind them into powder.

I study his shop as he works, admiring the different fossils that adorn his walls, and the ceremonial weapons on his shelves. Pots and already-made potions lay scattered on tables, labeled with their names and uses. I see more love potions than any other and roll my eyes.

The doorbell rings, and I turn to see three men enter.

The three men who hanged Lars on the tree.

My hands tighten into fists, and I clench my jaw, trying to resist attacking them then and there. The big one, Roge, grabs a potion off a desk and sniff at the contents. "Bloody hell!" he says, making a disgusted face. He drops the vial and it shatters, spilling blue liquid on the floor. His friends laugh.

"How dare you!" I yell.

Roge turns, noticing me for the first time. He grins. "Oh, a fiery one. I like them fiery. You looking for any work, Shade?"

Shade. He refers to my illusion. "You will apologize to the shop keeper this instance and pay for that potion."

"Or…" Roge pretends to be dumbfounded. "We going to be in trouble? Oh, no…" His friends giggle at his antics.

That’s it. I’ve had enough.

I draw my sword, Spero. Half white and half black.

Yami screeches on my shoulder, though I know they can’t see or hear him.

The vampires laugh at my display.

They don’t laugh for long.

The room grows dark around us. The wind picks up. The earth begins to shake. Vials and pots shake, some crashing to the floor. A chill picks up in the air. And something stirs within me. Something dark.

"My lady!"

I barely hear the words.

"My lady!"

A little louder.

"My lady!" Baldar grabs my arm, and whatever possessed me begins to pass. The lights return and the wind dies down. The cold recedes and the trembling stops. I look around at the destruction I have caused, broken potions and cracks in the stone floor.

The vampires look too, and then they run.

I bury my face in my hands. Tears well in my eyes. "I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened."

"It’s alright, my dear. It’s alright." He takes my hands into his, smiling fondly. "Those vagrants were about to destroy my entire shop, maybe even assault me. You stopped them."

I motion all around me. "And nearly ruined your entire shop."

"But you didn’t. You stopped yourself."

I take a deep breath, processing his words. "You’re right. Thank you."

Yami licks my face, trying to cheer me as well. It works, and I giggle.

Baldar places a vial in my hands. "To help you sleep, my dear." I reach into the pouch on my belt, searching for coins, but he stops me. "No need. Your company is payment enough."

I smile and thank him, then offer to help clean up. "No, but thank you. I have spells to aid in such things. Now, I believe you best be off. I think Varis expects you at this hour."

I glance outside at the sun. It’s later than I thought, and the Druid won’t be happy, indeed.

I thank Baldar and head for the door, and when I see he isn’t looking, I drop a few coins on his desk and depart.

On my way back to the palace, I notice a forge where blacksmiths toil over roaring fires, forging steel and iron. A part of me wants to join them, but then memories of Daison return, and I keep walking, away from the forge and the flame.

***

When I find Varis in the library, he is sitting cross-legged on the carpet, meditating with Pete. I don’t disrupt their trance, grateful for the delay before my training. Though I have learned some interesting and even useful things, none of my spells will aid me in the fight against Levi. I itch to do more, be more, to feel the thrill I felt watching Callisia battle the Windshark, and use that passion in combat.

Varis always preaches calmness and grace, but how can I fight and be calm? How can I fight without adrenaline pumping through my veins, fueling me like it fueled me when I fought Oren?

I slide into a chair, relaxing, when Es bursts in, shouting. "Pete, Ari. We’ve got things to talk about."

Varis groans, his concentration clearly broken. "Don’t you have any respect for the sacred art of—"

"Sitting on your ass and seeing who falls asleep first? Not right now," says Es, flicking her blond hair. She wears a black leather vest meant for battle, and a thick broadsword hangs at her side, making her seem even tougher than I remember her being—not that she’s ever had trouble taking care of herself.

Pete stands and stretches, his white fur robes nearly touching the ground. They seem likely borrowed from Varis and fit him well. Pete looks quite the Fae with his red hair. All he’s missing are the ears.

"So," says Es, sitting down in chair next to me and crossing her legs. "When can we get back to Portland, darlin'? Because as fun as this pleasure palace is, I got friends and family who miss me. I also pray I haven’t been fired."

"Me too," says Pete, sighing and running his fingers through his hair. 

I fold my hands together in my lap, thinking. "Well, Fen left yesterday to scout out Stonehill. When he and Dean return, we should be able to make a concrete plan. Then once Levi is defeated, you’ll be safe to return to Portland."

Es sighs. "This Levi is really that bad, huh?"

"My words don’t do him justice. You really have to meet him. Or on second thought, don’t." The three of us laugh, and Varis grunts, still trying to meditate.

After a moment, he finally appears to give up. "Arianna, when Dean returns, can you please ask him to show me the Mirror of Idis. It is a
Fae
artifact, a piece of
Fae
history, and I, as a Wild One, should have access to it. But instead he keeps it locked up in his room. And from what I’ve heard, gazing into it more and more by the day."

I bow my head, sadness filling me at the thought of Dean and what he told me. He still looks into the pool because he sees a happier life. A life that may even be possible, if I were to choose him as king. But my heart belongs to Fen.

"I’ll ask him," I tell Varis.

"Thank you. Now, since it doesn’t seem like we’ll be doing any training tonight, I’ll be off. I do however expect you to catch up on your reading. Good night everyone." He leaves with a flourish of his cape, and I roll my eyes, tired of my currently assigned text:
The History of Fae Cheese and Other Delicacies
.

Es looks over at me with a raised eyebrow. "Training going that bad, huh?"

I grunt. "Slow. Like molasses. I'm learning simple tricks and some useful incantations, but nothing that will win us a war. However, if you need to find a rabbit or change your appearance, I'm your girl." My voice is sarcastic, though the things I've learned have been interesting. It's just not enough.

"I take it you're frustrated?" says Pete.

"Yes." In so many ways. Fen is gone. I miss him. I want to explore our relationship more, but we're always stuck in one mess or another. I wish I could whisk him back to my world for a normal dinner and movie date. But that's not a life I will ever have if I stay here and fulfill my contract to the princes.

Es studies the shelves of books. "Is there nothing else he can teach you?"

My lips curl in a smile as something occurs to me. "There's nothing more he's willing to teach me, but… there might be something else I can learn. Let’s go!"

I jump up and run into the hallway, Pete and Es at my heels. "And how will you learn this, exactly?" asks Pete, panting. He never did have the strongest constitution.

"There’s a book. A book Varis hid from me the first day we studied. I bet it has something I could use."

"Have you considered there’s probably a reason Varis doesn’t want you reading that text?" asks Pete. "I know I haven’t known him long, but he’s shared some great wisdom with me, and I’ve yet to see him wrong."

I speed up, my excitement growing. "I'm sure he thinks he has good reasons, but he's holding me back, and we don't have time for that. People are dying!"

Pete is quiet the rest of the way, seemingly swayed by my argument. He could never stand the needless suffering of others.

Once we reach the correct hallway, I use illusion to make us look like the many scantily-clad servants who wander the halls and rooms of the palace day and night. We each carry a platter laden with food and drink and make our way toward Varis's room, as if we have every right to enter.

Once at his door, I enhance my senses and listen for any breathing. There is none. Instead of retiring to his room like he said, Varis probably went out to the local inn. I’d heard he was developing a taste for Baldar’s Nectar of the Elder Ones.

I turn the handle and the door opens, unlocked so servants can clean, or in our case, more nefarious things.

His room is as tidy and neat as I would have imagined.

"I have a bad feeling about this," whispers Pete, but I shush him and look around.

My enhanced vision picks up traces of recent prints of dust, things Varis touched. His bed. His closet.

I look under his pillow, find nothing, and then check the closet. Stashed deep past layers of fur cloaks, I discover the black leather book he hid from me.

When I touch it, my hands fill with cold, and I hear something in the distance. "You hear that?" I ask, but Pete and Es shake their heads.

Strange. I open the leather and run my hand over the cover. The ice seeps into the bones of my hand, making them ache, my skin prickles, and my arm hair stands on edge. I slam the book closed quickly and shove it back into its leather cover, then replace everything as I found it.

"So what now?" asks Es.

"Now, I need to read it."

I guide them back to my room and drop our new illusions. Pete and Es stay with me as I peruse the pages of the old manuscript, using a translation spell to understand the glyphs. Most of what I come across terrifies me: human sacrifice. Nude rituals. "Guys, I really hope I don’t have to do this stuff for Yami to grow stronger." I show them one picture of a woman being cut open from chin to groin, her organs pulled out to 'read'.

Pete recoils and Es bends over. "Think I’m going to vomit."

I flip the page and start scanning for something useful. The longer I have the book open, the worse the chill gets. The pages feel odd to me. Not like paper. And then I realize what they are. "Human skin."

Pete leans over the book to examine it. "There is precedent for that, even in our world."