Mathias had hibernated several times in his life, usually out of weariness. But he'd never been forced into it, and for as much anguish as he'd suffered being locked away, he knew the confinement had hurt Maddox ten times worse.
Imagining her panic after realizing they were trapped was the hardest part of all. She'd probably screamed and pounded on the inside of her sarcophagus to escape, but they'd remained entombed for seven decades until their enemies had an actual use for them.
It was just a stroke of luck that Maddox's lover, Stephan, had pulled her from the grave first. Otherwise Mathias would've likely lost another child to vampires still wishing to overthrow Sutrelle.
For that reason, he was impossibly indebted to Stephan, and not only for saving his daughter's life. Stephan would also protect Maddox whenever needed, making it possible for Mathias to remain in Sutrelle without too much concern for her safety.
So he nodded and mentioned, “I'm sure Stephan's helped you acclimate to the way things work now.”
Maddox scoffed. “That's putting it mildly. I don't know what I'd do without him.”
Smiling, he patted her shoulder and promised, “You two will do great things together, particularly with Nightfall. So tell Stephan I look forward to seeing you both in Sutrelle whenever you can find time for a visit, but don't worry if it doesn't come soon.”
Maddox exhaled a sigh, admitting, “Actually, I was hoping you'd stay for a while to help with that. Nightfall would benefit from having you at the top.”
Though he'd returned to Terra to assist in her efforts of getting the organization started, Mathias hadn't planned on taking an official role leading it. Nightfall needed to grow and gain power, but like the rest of The Five, he'd remained in the shadows watching the rest of the world passing by for so long it was hard to imagine assuming such a public position.
So he remarked, “I can't quite say I agree. I'm not as diplomatic as you, Sunshine, and I fear my views would be too … stern for Terran vampires.”
“Maybe, but you're the one who taught me control, and that's a lesson Terran vampires sorely need.”
“I can't argue with that,” he muttered, knowing they were far from disciplined.
But that was a topic for another time, and he merely concluded, “But I'm glad to see you've taken those lessons to heart, particularly where it concerns teaching Stephan.”
“He's coming along,” she returned with a smirk, “though I think our blood bond has a lot to do with it. He simply has no appetite for blood that isn't mine, and I'll admit, since turning him, I've also had little taste for anything else.”
Mathias took those words to heart, finding this to be one of those rare cases where his daughter actually possessed more experience, and it made him wonder. Would the same prove true for himself where it concerned Isadora? Would he desire her blood to the point of being unable to feed in Sutrelle?
If so, another hibernation might be in order.
As he considered it, Maddox thoughtfully related, “Actually, I drank the blood of a sun fae named Adriana not too long ago. She offered it freely to let me walk in the daylight so I could assist a lupine in finding his mate, and I was … astonished. She didn't have to force me to stop. Her blood tasted fine, but it wasn't Stephan's, and I freely released her wrist.”
To make her point stand out, she added emphatically, “A sun fae.”
Mathias held her gaze, finding himself curious, uncertain, and even envious. Maddox had no interest in a fae's blood because her lover's was the best she'd ever tasted, and nothing else compared—a troubling thought. He'd just discovered a lover's link in a fae, and if they were already irresistible? I may as well have let Isadora perish for all having a blood link means.
Furthermore, how was he ever going to feed from another again? He tried to imagine returning home and having one of the mortal servants offer blood, but found no interest in the idea.
The thought led him to a single conclusion. Hibernation is definitely in order.
As he had the thought, a warning knock came to the office door before it slowly creaked open with Stephan stepping inside. The young vampire nodded respectfully in Mathias' direction, then smiled at Maddox and stated, “Hope I'm not intruding, but the sun'll be up soon, and I thought we should get going.”
Maddox was planning to return to New York for the day, though she now looked reluctant to go, and Mathias knew why. So he shook his head and waved a hand from her to Stephan in replying, “You're not interrupting at all. I was about to depart.”
Frowning, Maddox let a deep sigh and, as if realizing it was pointless to argue, grabbed her father in a tight hug, whispering, “You know I'll miss you.”
“I know, Sunshine, and I'll miss you,” he returned, kissing her cheek affectionately. “But we'll see one another again. Never doubt that.”
“Oh, believe me, I don't doubt it one bit.
The determination in her voice put a smile on his face. It might take time, but he knew Maddox would visit him at some point—he simply didn't have time to say so before Stephan asked in confusion, “Did I miss something?”
Separating herself from Mathias, Maddox informed her lover, “I'll tell you later.”
Knowing now was the best time to depart, Mathias wished them both a safe trip, then walked over to the window. There, he gave the couple one last look before allowing his body to turn into mist, and departed the Spire.
Outside, he moved swiftly over the Atlantan skyline, traveling toward a cemetery several miles northwest of the city called Page South. Within the graveyard was one of the only two existing gateways into Sutrelle, disguised as a sarcophagus standing at the center of the mausoleum—and it wasn't the only mockery the cemetery possessed.
The entire graveyard was merely a setup The Five erected to both hide the gateway and provide them with shelter from the Terran sun. Sadly, the mausoleum itself could no longer be used as such a haven. Much of the chamber was now in disarray after a vampire faction called the Kalar discovered the gateway's existence and damaged the chamber in their attempts to access Sutrelle.
Their knowledge made it important to stay alert once Mathias reached the mausoleum and reformed next to the sarcophagus. Anyone could be around, waiting for a chance to subdue him and secure a means of entering the realm.
Not that it'd be easy. They're certainly welcome to try.
With the thought in mind, he turned his attention to the sarcophagus, which was carved with several elegant flourishes surrounding the bust of a woman's face. It was the same bust he recalled etched into the Grand Priestess' bedchamber doors, and ironically, the figure represented the Kalar's namesake—Kalara.
There were few depictions of the goddess left in Sutrelle, but the sight of her always reminded Mathias of his impetuous youth.
After five thousand years, he still couldn't decide whether his insistence on visiting the Cardinal Citadel had been foolishly brave, or bravely foolish, but he did know he'd been misled. There is no Goddess, and never was one.
His epiphany followed the events leading to the war so long ago—only days after Artair blooded him, the Grand Priestess traveled to Terra, and never returned. She'd simply vanished without a trace, and as a result, a fracture formed in their society that ultimately led to a downfall.
The Oracles fell apart, and many vampires started torturing the mortals they fed from, causing an amount of chaos Mathias hoped never to see again.
And to this day, no one knew the Grand Priestess' fate.
Mathias was the only one of The Five who'd ever met her, and also the last vampire turned before she'd vanished. So he was also the only one who routinely questioned her disappearance at length, and often wondered why things would fall into chaos because of her absence.
Unless Kalara didn't exist.
It was the only feasible explanation. Most deities of The Pantheon had Divinity Scrolls detailing their existence, or were at least mentioned somewhere in those sacred texts. But there was no scroll for Kala
ra, nor was she named in those belonging to the other deities.
Yet, and despite the evidence, such thoughts made Mathias truly curious over the origins of vampires. Artair claimed to have taken blood from Kalara herself, though he'd never explained where this happened, or how. In fact, though Artair blooded him, Mathias knew very little about the vampire, and most of what he'd learned came from Marlese, the youngest of The Five.
According to her, Artair was once a simple farmer who was so drawn by Kalara's offer of eternal life in her service he'd killed his pregnant wife to prove his devotion. Whether this act was a demand of the goddess, or just an example of Artair's ruthless persona, no one knew.
But his dedication became painfully obvious once the Grand Priestess disappeared.
At first, he'd demanded a search, and frequently visited Terra in his effort of finding her. But when the investigations continually proved fruitless, he grew more impatient—and much less forgiving.
Thankfully, the only thing that outmatched his cruelty was grief, which grounded his murderous instincts—albeit marginally.
And it was Artair's mercilessness that led to his demise.
With him gone, and so many killed during the war, Mathias became the oldest known vampire in any realm. This caused the rest of The Five to defer to his judgment in official matters even though he'd claimed no roles of leadership.
But if it meant keeping Sutrelle free of war and conquest, he'd gladly carry the torch.
Sadly, war and conquest weren't the only threats the realm now faced, and as rays of sunlight began stretching above the horizon, he covered Kalara's bust with his hand to trigger the gateway, wondering the entire while if saving Sutrelle was truly within his means.
After all, he was contemplating a lengthy hibernation because of a fae he'd saved, but could never meet, which didn't bode well for his home. Yet he saw no alternatives.
So perhaps the time had come to pass on the torch.
— FIVE —
Laying in the grass until late afternoon wasn't the most entertaining of activities, but no place would ever feel more like home to Isadora than the woods.
While Adriana and Aislinn cast cleansing spells to make certain she was no longer under anyone's control, the gentle sway of branches above and the scent of grass offered comfort. The fae's presence had drawn several animals as well, including rabbits, a few chipmunks, and several deer, all gathered around the area as if to watch the witches work.
As a result, Troy admitted to feeling as if stuck in a musical, earning a laugh from Bryant. But the ladies believed it was a good sign—had there been an unseen force controlling Isadora, the animals likely wouldn't have wandered so close to her barrier.
Adriana even teleported away to see if they'd stay, and found their numbers had actually increased by the time she returned.
The sight of the woodlands creatures offered a sense of optimism, keeping Isadora's spirit high until the witches proclaimed they could detect no traces of magic still clinging to her. They'd cast multiple spells to be certain—neither were willing to take a risk on magic strong enough to control a fae—and finally, Isadora was declared her own woman.
Once freed of the protective barrier, she hugged Adriana and thanked everyone for their help despite knowing the struggle was far from over. Now I need to find my sisters.
“So you don't remember anything after hanging up with Victoria last week?” Adriana asked once their hug ended.
Leaning to scoop a chipmunk up from the ground, she stood straight again while answering, “Actually, I remember climbing into the back of the truck, and I'm sure I opened the crate, but … it's like I was having a dream.”
Packing her supplies away, Aislinn qualified, “That sounds like the effect of mind control magic alright. So if you think you dreamed it, it's probably something you actually experienced.”
Isadora knew that was true from personal experience working with the Craft, prompting her to state, “There is one thing I haven't mentioned, and I have no idea how it ties in, but … I think I ran into an old woman, too. I just can't remember who, or where I saw her. It's more like a presence than a memory, and all I know is that she was … creepy.”
Both Adriana and Aislinn stared in curiosity while Victoria asked, “Could she be the life force you sensed inside the crate?”
“It's possible,” Isadora returned with confidence, thinking the situation over before adding, “I guess I'll have to visit a psychic to dig the truth out of my subconscious.”
At that, Aislinn qualified, “I have some mild psychic abilities, and there's a scrying crystal in my bag. So if you'd like, I could give it a shot with Troy's help. I just can't promise any solid results.”
“Oh, please do!” Isadora agreed, eager to solve this mystery by any means available.
Nodding, Aislinn shuffled through the contents of her bag, producing the crystal needed to assist in her efforts.
Holding it up in both hands, she directed Isadora to cover the smooth surface with her palm as Troy took Aislinn's shoulders without prompting, suggesting he'd helped his mate in this fashion numerous times before.
Once they were all connected, the witch closed her eyes.
“Now focus on the old woman, Isadora.”
“Okay,” she acknowledged, closing her own eyes—though focusing wasn't easy. The notion of an old woman being related to recent events was just that; a notion, not a memory or a conscious thought.
So their attempts didn't produce any results—at first.
But after several moments of clearing her mind enough to concentrate on the idea, Isadora could hear garbled voices, and the repeated words of help me. It was a strange sensation, and the longer she focused, the more convinced she became that none of it was a dream.
Sadly, the only images it drew to mind weren't identifiable. There was only desert for as far as the eye could see, an ocean of sand beneath a blistering sun without a soul in sight for miles around.
Isadora described it aloud, recalling a billowing plume of sand obscuring the horizon. Wind whipped through her hair, its roaring against her pointed ears only outmatched by the hum of engines—vehicles?
At the thought, she realized she was sitting in the covered bed of a truck, watching the recently disturbed sand fly through the air because of the tires below. Around her were containers of water and other basic supplies, but … where were they going?
While focusing on the thought, a name surfaced she couldn't help but say aloud.
“Sylva … .”
Silence followed the remark for several moments before Aislinn asked, “Sylva?”
“I think that was the old woman's name,” Isadora started. “Sylva … something. Abby?”
“Sylva Abbott?”
“Yes!” Opening her eyes, she confirmed the name with a quick nod. “That's it!”
Though it was relieving to have another piece of the puzzle, somehow, her exclamation had everyone but Victoria exchanging surprised, and extremely worried looks.
“It can't be,” Adriana remarked.
“They were never found, so it's possible,” Troy returned grimly.
As he spoke, Aislinn looked uncertain, but it was hard to tell if the witch simply didn't believe what was being said, or didn't want to.
So Isadora insisted, “Who was never found? Do you guys know Sylva Abbott?”
Groaning, Adriana explained, “We don't know her, we only know of her, and Sylva Abbott is … a lot of things, actually. So maybe we should all go inside and have a seat before explaining.”
The fae made it sound as if a complex answer was incoming, but considering recent events, Isadora couldn't imagine anything simple coming out of this situation. So she didn't hesitate to agree—and Adriana's ability to teleport had them in the dining room of Dalris' estate in no time.
There, as they sat at the table to prepare for the coming discussion, Victoria offered refreshments—specifically those containing large volumes of alcohol as the main
ingredient.
The werewolves seemed to appreciate the gesture, but Isadora had just fed from the earth, and declined the offer, finding it difficult to wait on the drinks before getting started. In fact, she only maintained her composure by stroking the fur of the chipmunk still sitting on her shoulder.
Thankfully, the servants were prompt, and after they exited the room, Adriana wasted no time stating, “So, Sylva Abbott. Troy and Aislinn have the most experience with her, but I know her story actually goes back to the 1600s.”
Intrigued, Isadora asked, “Then she's some type of immortal?”
“Well, not exactly. Sylva was a human witch born in the seventeenth century who started a coven called The Trine to protect other witches from religious paranoia. However, she eventually became the mage apprentice of a magician named Heliger.”
“Heliger?” Isadora asked, sharing a look with Victoria in mentioning, “Yules just chased down a curse box that contained Heliger's Pendant.”
“Yules?” Aislinn asked.
“He's one of Victoria's brothers.”
Nodding in understanding, the witch next inquired, “Then, do you know Heliger?”
“Not personally, but I know he was a skilled magician, perhaps even described as legendary.”
“That's one way to put it,” Aislinn started. “We don't know too many details about him either, but we discovered Sylva was his mage apprentice, and though we're skeptical of the source, he apparently feared how powerful she became and cast her bodily into Limbo.”
“Limbo?” Isadora asked incredulously. Limbo was the plane of the dead where spirits resided during their transition into the afterlife, and it wasn't a place any living being could visit and survive, meaning Heliger had killed his apprentice in a very … creative way.
Yet Aislinn didn't elaborate on how Sylva was sent there, and only nodded. “That's how we know about her. In order for Sylva to return from Limbo, she needed the counter spell in Heliger's tome, which was locked away beneath Braddock's Estate where we live.”
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