The Well of Many Worlds

by Luke Metcalf

  “I’ve… um… noticed,” Emily felt her blood burn hot in her cheeks. Mitchell chuckled.

  “The pale skin and the fangs are obviously common to all vampires.”

  Emily blushed as she thought of what this would mean when Mitchell was ever with a woman. Would his heightened awareness and ability to read someone’s mind make him an incredible lover? She bit her lip as a burst of excitement exploded deep inside her. Not being able to stop thinking about him in this way was driving her insane. Once again she lowered her guard, opened herself up to her desires and fantasized about the delicious pleasure of abandoning herself to him.

  As they approached the mouth of the cave the sky had cleared and the stars above shone with an incandescent clarity in the wintry northern night. Their light glinted off the freshly fallen snow that crunched beneath their feet. A light breeze creaked in the pines above. Emily felt the vastness of the nighttime wilderness surrounding them. It was both beautiful and spooky. Looking at the gaping black maw of the cave opening up in front of her, she was overwhelmed by a rush of dread and exhilaration at the thought of venturing inside and following its winding veins deep into the heart of a mystery.

  Mitchell scanned the area. “Strange – I cannot sense the presence of any other vampires.”

  Emily held up her Sphere of Protection, muttered a magical incantation, and gestured with her other hand. A silvery-blue light spread across the area around them. Mitchell looked at her in wonder.

  “An illumination spell.” She grinned. “I know you don’t need it, but I do. Mercurios told me a trick that all wizards in Magella use. They cast it on a portable object, like the sphere, so they can carry it with them. It’ll last for hours. And if I ever need to turn it off, I just pop it in my pocket.”

  “Brilliant,” said Mitchell.

  “Yes, very good indeed,” said the imp, clapping his hands.

  Emily smiled proudly, relishing Mitchell’s approval. Drawing out her wand, she prepared to enter the caves. She was making her first steps toward becoming a wizard, and there was nothing in this world, she reasoned, that could be more shocking to her than that.

  “We could potentially spend weeks in here,” Mitchell warned as they slid inside. “It’s an enormous labyrinth.”

  A long tunnel led to the first big grotto. It was about two hundred feet in diameter and over sixty feet high but Emily’s spell illuminated every inch of it, causing beautiful crystals to sparkle on the walls. Long stalactites of ice hung from the ceiling like frozen spears, and stalagmites grew over six feet high from the floor like strange translucent mushrooms.

  They continued onward through this frozen world, entranced by its otherworldly beauty. In one grotto, they found hundreds of crystallized snowflakes the size of their hands covering the floor. In another they found a frozen lake as big as a football field. But they saw no sign of the princess or any other vampire. They were about to travel deeper into the labyrinth, when they heard a sound. At first, it was so quiet that Emily wasn’t sure if she had heard it or just sensed a presence, but Mitchell spun around and she then saw a dark shape standing in the opening of the passage.

  Mitchell drew his sword, while Emily pointed her wand at the shape. She couldn’t see the face of the person silently gazing at them because it was shrouded by a heavy cloak with the hood pulled low.

  “Who are you?” Mitchell demanded.

  “I owe you deep apology. I ask for forgiveness,” said a low, calm voice, thick with a Russian accent. The figure stepped forward and pushed back his hood.

  “You!”

  Twenty-Two

  Ivan, the other vampire, who, along with Mephris and the Comtesse LeDuijou, had hurled Mitchell into the depths of that terrible whirlpool so many years earlier, stood before them. Mitchell leaped forward, his sword bursting into flames as he raised it to swing at Ivan’s neck. As he landed, he froze. Ivan watched him, unmoving, hands hanging by his sides, unarmed. Mitchell checked his swing curious as to why he was not defending himself.

  “Who is he, Mitchell?” Emily asked.

  “Why are you here?” Mitchell snarled, ignoring her. “Defend yourself!”

  Ivan’s voice remained cool and controlled. “This right, it is yours – to destroy me. However, I would like an opportunity to explain myself.”

  Mitchell slowly lowered his sword and sheathed it. “What is it?”

  “Will we sit?” Ivan gestured to two large rocks on the cave floor.

  Mitchell nodded curtly and took a seat on one of them, while Emily and Mercurios hovered nervously in the background. Mitchell tried to read Ivan’s mind, but Ivan was nearly his match in age and strength, and he couldn’t grasp his thoughts.

  “I was born in Perm, in 1579,” Ivan began, “and joined the military at a young age. When I was twenty-two, a vampire made me. I remember a dream, like suffering a fever, then the agonizing pain of awakening. I existed for two hundred years alone, stalking blood, filled with hunger. Then Baelaar and others found me in Moscow. Baelaar told me that by joining the Priests, I would serve a greater good for mankind. I was grateful. You know the power an older vampire can have over a young one.”

  Mitchell nodded and Ivan continued, “My job from the beginning was to seek the Well of Many Worlds. Baelaar wanted it. We learned that the princess had information that might lead to the Well, that she was leaving Paris for Russia, so we sent spies to watch her. That is why we hunted you and Fionn and other Niveus Gladius knights. Baelaar hoped that the princess would lead us straight to the Well, and when she did, he wanted her to be alone, isolated.”

  “What are Baelaar’s plans, if he gets his hands on the Well? And what are his plans once they sell the trillion dollars worth of looted treasures they are shipping to America?” Mitchell asked.

  “You know about that?”

  “Yes.”

  “The truth is the opposite of what he told me when he first brought me into the Priests of Mezzor. He hates humans. The Priests of Mezzor will use the money to enslave the world, I don’t know how but that is Baelaar’s goal, then he hopes for a gateway to a world where the first vampire came from.”

  “What happened to the princess?”

  “We chased her, but she escaped. For a very long time we chased, but every time she escaped… until…”

  “What happened?”

  “We captured her a little while ago. Baelaar drained her of nearly all her blood, so she is weak and he read her mind. She fought, but they found and read the diary in her mind.”

  “Who’s diary?” Mitchell asked grabbing Ivan by the shoulder.

  “One of the first vampires turned on Earth.”

  “The rest of the diary that Snowdrop brought to us!” whispered Mitchell, eyes glazing over as he contemplated this revelation. Then he focused again on Ivan. “What happened to the princess?”

  “Baelaar killed her.”

  “And the others? How many knights were killed?”

  Ivan sighed. “Many. But me, I only saw the attack on you and Fionn.”

  “And did you kill Fionn?”

  “Baelaar killed him.”

  Mitchell lowered his head into his hands. “Where is Baelaar’s main fortress?”

  “There are three, maybe more. I know only one. It is in Iceland.”

  “Iceland?” Mitchell’s eyes narrowed. “Of all the places I’ve studied and believed Baelaar’s lair to be, Iceland never crossed my mind.”

  “Yes, a couple hours from Reykjavik. I will show you. They never told me where the others are.”

  “What is in this diary? Does it say where the well is?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “How many of the Priests of Mezzor are there?”

  Ivan shrugged. “Now… hundreds.”

  “Hundreds?”

  “Yes. This is why Baelaar disappeared for so long. He was creating and training new initiates. Of course, most of them are relatively young and weak. Baelaar doesn’t care. He made far too many. They have armies
of human slaves there too, in huge underground caverns. They have collected human skulls for centuries and have hundreds of thousands of them that they have used to build an underground temple to Mezzor, including Baelaar’s throne, which is also made of human skulls.” Ivan smiled. “I was sent here to trick you.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They know you are here, Mitchell,” Ivan said, his eyes watching carefully, waiting for this news to sink in. “Baelaar sent me to tell you that the princess is held captive in an abandoned village close by. I’m supposed to convince you that I am on your side. Then I’m supposed to bring you there, where an ambush awaits you.”

  “But how does anyone know I’m here?” Mitchell’s eyes grew cold. He looked away. “Of course, as I always suspected… Ruthen.”

  “Yes, I heard last night Lord Ruthen arrived and they caught him. Baelaar told me he drained him, got information, and then killed him himself.”

  “What? I thought he was a traitor.”

  “Not that I know of.”

  “Damn!” Mitchell strode a few paces away, trying to control his emotions.

  “I am sorry.”

  “Why not just ambush me here then?”

  “Baelaar has a plan for you. In a village close to here, there is mineshaft, hundreds of feet down into the earth, an easier place for an ambush. I’m to bring you into the basement of the building where the shaft is, then we attack you, drain you of nearly all of your blood, and throw you into the shaft. Before you have a chance to heal, we melt the rock walls of the shaft and then make them hard again, filling the shaft. Then you are completely imprisoned by solid rock, buried alive.”

  “Weakened by loss of blood and unable to feed, I wouldn’t be able to escape and I would exist there forever…” he concluded grimly. “Or until my mind broke, at which point Baelaar could bring me back and make me a mindless slave.” He ground his teeth with rage. “So what made you change your mind? Why are you trying to help me?”

  “Baelaar decided to put me in charge of the fortress in Iceland. It was the first time I saw the true nature of his plans. I had a clear understanding. They are trying to create an ultimate blood sacrifice, and I, like a fool, helped them. I believed what they told me. I was brainwashed by them. But now I know.”

  “What happened?” Mitchell asked.

  “They laugh and speak of how such a big population of humans on Earth is hard to control. They talk of killing all humans except for a few hundred thousand, who they will make into slaves. After that, I buried my thoughts deep inside and watched and waited. I will do anything to make up for my mistake.”

  “Who is waiting for me?”

  “He sent the strongest.”

  “Of course,” Mitchell said with a bitter chuckle. “Who?”

  “They are very tough. Five of them… and me.”

  After a moment, Mitchell turned around, determination blazing in his eyes. “Well, let’s not keep them waiting.”

  “What do you mean? I just told you—”

  “Ivan—”

  “No, I will deal with them. I owe you,” Ivan implored.

  “You’re going to take all five by yourself? You’re not going to be good to anyone dead.”

  Ivan shrugged. “These things happen. No matter. I will take them with me or I will survive and return in a couple of hours,” he said, standing up and turning to leave.

  Mitchell nodded. “I understand,” he said. “You are an honorable man. By the way, what do the words Vadas Asger mean to you?”

  “Nothing.”

  “All right, thanks for your help.”

  Ivan smiled and swiftly left the grotto.

  “What are you going to do?” Emily’s voice broke the stillness.

  “We will follow him. You’ll need to get rid of that light, though. We cannot trust him.”

  Emily put the sphere in her pocket, and everything went dark except for a faint glow from her jeans.

  “I don’t like bringing you,” muttered Mitchell. “But leaving you here alone could be much worse.”

  They waited a few moments before following. He had gone cross-country so they left the limousine. Ivan traveled quickly, but Mitchell had no trouble keeping up with him, even with Emily on his back and Mercurios on hers.

  As they entered the town, they passed buildings covered with vines, with roads and sidewalks under a light, powdery snow buckling after many summers of grass growing through them. It was a ghost town, which nature had reclaimed. A light breeze blew and loose shutters from a nearby house creaked mournfully as snow-laden currents of air eddied and dissipated. No sign of life. The three of them kept to the shadows and watched as Ivan walked into the center of the main street.

  “Gillings,” Ivan called out, his voice echoing off the abandoned walls.

  He was met by silence apart from the night wind rattling the doors of the dilapidated buildings. Then Emily noticed a pair of glowing red eyes staring out through an empty window across the road. Mitchell lowered her from his back and she took out her wand. The eyes disappeared and a moment later a figure strode out of the doorway.

  “Where is he? Did you lose him?” the vampire asked Ivan gruffly.

  “Gillings,” Ivan said calmly, “I never liked you.”

  “Is that so?” Gillings sneered.

  In one smooth movement, Ivan drew his sword. It shone the cold, pale bluish-white of a frost brand, and wisps of ice fog rose from it. He aimed a fatal strike at Gillings’s neck, but Mitchell was faster. As soon as Ivan had uttered those words, Mitchell leaped out of the shadows and slew Gillings himself, his sword blazing with fire. Ivan checked his swing and looked at Mitchell in surprise.

  “I had to make sure you had the guts,” Mitchell said with a smile.

  They grinned at each other like schoolboys, then walked up the main street, their swords drawn and humming with power. Emily and Mercurios followed close behind, Mercurios giggling and muttering in her ear, “Yes, that one had a lot of blood in him, a lot of blood indeed!”

  Emily rolled her eyes. “Man,” she whispered, “you’re an incredibly violent imp!”

  “I am! I am tee-hee-hee! Crush them unmerciful!” he shouted with glee, shaking his little fist in the air.

  They were nearing the center of town before the other vampires attacked. One leaped from an upper balcony on the left side of the street, hurtling down upon Mitchell, while the other three burst from a building on the right and swarmed over Ivan. They were no Initiates, they were full-fledged vampires, strong and deadly, and their swords glowed with bursts of electricity.

  The vampire who had attacked Mitchell seemed to momentarily catch him by surprise. He was thrown to the ground, his shoulder badly gashed. Recovering, Mitchell swept the vampire’s legs out from under him with one kick, and, once back on his feet, kicked him in the chest, sending him flying through the brick wall of an abandoned house. Ivan slashed the arm off one of his attackers, the biting frost from his sword searing the vampire’s flesh. The vampire shrieked at the top of his lungs and leaped about in a frenzy as he frantically tried to reattach the severed limb.

  Emily was desperate to help. She cried out, “Vaza bel thlemin.”

  A great bolt of lightning shot from her wand and exploded into the vampire Mitchell had kicked, just as he was crawling to his feet, blowing him backward through the wall again. He screamed and writhed in pain, convulsing on the ground.

  “Whoa!” Emily said, staring at her wand.

  Mitchell glanced at her. “Shocking,” he smiled.

  At that moment there was a thunderclap so loud it made their ears ring, followed by a blaze of lightning a thousand times greater than the one from Emily’s wand. Everyone was knocked to the ground by the force of the electricity.

  What looked like a great black doorway opened up in the middle of the road and a huge man-like creature appeared, just as the doorway disappeared. The creature was about twelve feet tall with a moss-green and gray hide. It glanced about with emoti
onless, black eyes.

  The vampire Emily had blown through the wall stumbled to his feet just in time to receive the creature’s fist right in his face, hurling him back through the wall again. The creature charged forward and crushed another member of the Priests of Mezzor beneath its enormous fists before tearing his head off. Mercurios cheered and cackled.

  Emily heard Ivan roar with pain and turned to see that one of the vampires had put a sword through his side. A vampire, which Ivan must have killed while they were all distracted, lay on the ground beside him, crumbling into ash. Ivan destroyed the one who had stabbed him.

  Another vampire went for the creature, attempting to decapitate it, but the creature dodged the sword and punched the vampire in the chest, sending him cartwheeling through the air. Mitchell bounded across the street and, in one swift movement, beheaded the vampire who was about to deliver a lethal blow to Ivan from behind.

  Emily felt the crushing grip of a huge hand snatching her up. She dropped her wand and screamed, “Mitchell!” The creature waved her above his head and bellowed in fury. The vampire that had been hurled three times through the wall crawled to his feet and came reeling across the street, swinging his sword blindly at Mitchell, who was now looking in horror at Emily.

  “Emily!” he cried.

  At that moment, Ivan plunged his sword into the vampire’s heart before slicing off his head, which tumbled to the ground, its eyes wide open and staring at Ivan. Ivan kicked it through a window like a soccer ball.

  Mercurios hovered in front of the creature’s face, spitting a large blob of disgusting goo into its eye. It bellowed loudly, took a poorly aimed swipe at Mercurios, and then tried wiping its eye with its free hand. Mercurios then spat in its other eye, blinding it completely.

  The creature roared again, and to free its other hand, hurled Emily aside. She flew through the air toward one of the buildings, screaming at the top of her lungs. Mitchell jumped into the air, thrusting himself off the wall with one leg, and caught Emily just before she hit the stone. He spun and landed, setting Emily safely down on the ground.