by E. M. Knight
He sighs. “Her name is Miranda. She is…” he pauses.
“She is my daughter.”
Chapter Twenty
Eleira
The Stronghold
I peer down into the never-ending pit, looking through the invisible magic barrier I set up earlier.
Even with my vision I cannot see to the bottom. I reach out with my senses, try directing them down to pick up even a hint of the creatures I know are down there.
I find nothing.
Geordam, standing beside me, clears his throat. “What would you have us do?”
I look at him. Then I look past him at the guards ringing the opening in the floor.
“Nothing,” I say after a moment. “I’m satisfied those things won’t find another way out. The shield over the top of the crater cannot be penetrated from below. The Haven is not in danger of being overrun by them.”
I turn back. “We’ll seal the stronghold off, label it out of bounds, and that will be that for now.”
Geordam frowns. “Raul said they took Cassandra. We’re not going for her?”
I exhale. “I wish we could,” I say softly, “but I won’t risk the lives of more vampires for a single hostage. With the amount of time that’s passed, she’s most likely dead, anyway.”
“Felix won’t be happy to hear that,” Geordam grumbles.
“Does Felix suddenly hold command of The Haven?” I demand, irritation flaring.
“No, my Queen,” Geordam says. “But he is to become Captain Commander, and with the guards at his disposal, he is unlikely to turn a blind eye to her kidnapping.” He lowers his voice. “You know he cares for her. As a woman.”
I blink. I hadn’t expected Geordam to be so perceptive.
“I’ll make sure he won’t do anything against my orders,” I say.
I start walking away.
He stops me by stepping in front. “Forgive me, my Queen, if this is improper… but I do not think it wise to simple let Cassandra go. When the others find out how she’s been forsaken, whispers will start about your…”
He hesitates.
“About my what?” I ask.
“About your fitness to be Queen,” he whispers. “I’m sorry. It’s not what you want to hear, but I know our vampires. It’s the truth.”
“I’ll never begrudge you for speaking your mind, Geordam,” I say. “But look around. How many guards do we have? Compare that to the number of those strange creatures Raul said he saw.”
“We are stronger,” he insists.
“It’s not about strength,” I say. “Raul’s condition proved how vulnerable we are to their cries. Until I can figure out how to counter that, there is no way we go to them.”
“Fair enough,” Geordam submits. “But my point about Cassandra still stands.”
“Very few know she’s been taken,” I say. “Only me, you, Phillip, Felix, and the guards…” I raise my voice to address them. “Not one word of what you saw here is to reach the other vampires. All they have to know is they are safe. Other than that, not a single detail is to escape your lips. Understood?”
The guards all voice their agreement.
I look at Geordam. “Satisfied?”
“No,” he says. “Not really. But it’s the best I could hope for. It’ll have to do.”
“You trust these guards not to leak the information, don’t you?” I ask.
“Perhaps,” he mutters.
“Well, it’s up to you to ensure that they don’t. If word of Cassandra’s troubles reaches the rest, it’s on you.”
He bows his head. “Understood.”
“Good,” I say. “I want the stronghold permanently guarded. Nobody is to come in, no matter what. Only a direct order from me, given by me to you, can override that.”
“It will be as you say.”
“I hope so,” I tell him, and start a brisk walk for the exit.
***
In Morgan’s old study in the treetop apartments I confer with Riyu.
“You must have some hint of what they might be,” I press him. I’d explained everything, filling in the details as best I could, about what happened to Raul in the stronghold.
Riyu looks at me with those stony, dark eyes. He shakes his head. “They sound entirely unlike anything I’ve ever encountered before.”
“But you know about the creatures Beatrice was raising in The Crypts,” I insist. “Don’t you? Those sound, at least to me, linked closer to them than to any vampire.”
“I cannot help you here,” Riyu says stiffly. “Yes, I do know Beatrice’s creatures. I am glad to say that they have been eliminated.”
I give a start. “What? When?”
“Dagan and I did it,” Riyu admits. “Those vile things walk this earth no more.”
“So… that threat is gone?” I ask, feeling a tiny ray of light parting the dark clouds that are my lasting impression of The Crypts.
Riyu snorts a laugh. “No. Beatrice escaped, and I would bet gold she has already begun creating more.”
“She escaped?” I ask. “That implies she was with you against her will.”
“The King had no further use for her once he—”
Riyu chokes off with a cough.
My fingers tighten on the table. “Once he what?” I ask.
“Once he opened himself up to Blood Magic,” Riyu whispers.
I pull back. “The rumor is true?”
“It’s no rumor,” Riyu says. “I told you about it myself.”
“So Beatrice is no longer part of the coven?” I ask.
Riyu shrugs. “I don’t think she ever integrated with us. Logan had a soft spot for her, and of course welcomed her in his bed, but she was never one of us. Not truly.”
“And what does being ‘one of you’ take?” I ask him. “Drinking The Ancient’s blood?”
“That’s part of it,” Riyu says. “But there are also ceremonies. We have no need to get into them now, but let’s just say Beatrice never took to them herself. She was the King’s woman but always apart from us. Truth be told, I never grasped the relationship. Maybe that’s how I let myself get caught blindsided.”
“By what?”
“Beatrice imprisoning me. She wanted to turn me into one of her uncouth hybrids. Dagan saved me before it could happen.”
“How long were you in her grip?” I ask in a low and serious voice.
“Not long. A day, maybe two? It felt like infinity. The first thing I did, after Dagan got me out, was to destroy all those vile creatures.”
“Hmm,” I consider the tale. “The experience of being held prisoner gave you some insight into what they are?” I ask. “Is that why you’re so confident they are not related to what we have here?”
“Truth be told, Eleira,” he replies, “prior to seeing Beatrice’s creatures, I had thought The Convicted were the only possible alteration of a vampire. Grotesque things, they were. Starved and barely lucid. My guess is that they are closer in relation to whatever Raul encountered than Beatrice’s spawn.”
“They could be all related…” I murmur.
Riyu stands up. “I’ve been here a long time,” he says. “If I’m not seen outside by the Incolam, some are bound to get suspicious. By your leave?”
I turn away, distracted. “Yes, yes. You can go.”
He pauses just before exiting the room. “Eleira?” he adds. “We still have to speak about Cierra.”
“When Raul and Phillip return,” I tell him. “They should have something with them that could be a great help against the Dark Sorceress.”
“I believe you match her in strength,” he says. “But not experience. So I am glad to know assistance is coming.”
He leaves.
I frown.
He didn’t ask what that assistance would be.
I decide not to dwell on that. I’m just unused to having my decisions go unquestioned, as they do now that I am Queen.
I turn to the stack of papers collected on the desk.
/> They are all the parchments and scrolls that had been buried in various spots in the room. On the shelves, in the drawers, just strewn around.
I flip through them. For the first time in a very long time I have the luxury of not being pressed for time. I can take a moment for myself to just examine and appreciate the enormous wealth of information gathered around me.
I get maybe ten minutes to examine the various constellations depicted on the scrolls before a quiet knock announces Felix’s arrival.
“Come in,” I say.
He looks more haggard than last I saw him. “Geordam told me what you intend,” he begins right away. “I cannot stand for it! I will not abandon her like that.”
“I did not invite you here to talk about Cassandra,” I say in a flat voice.
“The woman relies on me,” he insists. “And I let her down. If you won’t send the guards down after her, let me go myself! I will see to it that she is safe.”
“Oh?” My eyebrows go up. “And how would you do that? You expect to just drop into the zombie nest and pull her out? You know about the effect their screams have on vampires better than anybody else. Unless you’re holding from me some way of countering that, I don’t see how you can be successful.”
He grimaces. “I sent her into that hell. I accept all responsib—”
“And I won’t let you throw your life away trying to get her out!” I snap. “You’re too valuable for that.” I gesture sharply at the chair on the other side of the desk. “Sit.”
A little stifled, he walks to it and plops down.
If I didn’t know any better, I’d say the old vampire was sullen!
“Do you have a way of countering the screams that would allow you to be successful?” I ask softly.
He opens and closes his hands.
Then he drops his eyes. “No.”
“So then get yourself together, Felix, and stop sulking! I’d expect such behavior from a ten-year-old girl. Not from a respected scholar who’s been alive for so many centuries.”
He grimaces. “What you say is true.”
“All right.” I hold my hand out to him. “I promise you, the moment we find a way to go after Cassandra safely, without risking any of our vampires, I will order it. Remember, we don’t even know if she’s alive or dead.”
“They wouldn’t have pulled her away without harming her, and leave Raul untouched, if they intended to kill her,” he says in a hushed, resigned voice.
“We don’t know that,” I say. “I care for Cassandra, too, but there are more pressing matters on our hands.” I put a finger down at the intricate lettering on one of the scrolls. “Such as my first lesson in the ancient tongue.”
Felix nods and instantly his demeanor shifts. His back straightens, his eyes lose that vacant look.
“Very well,” he says, regaining the aura of a tutor. “Let’s begin.”
Chapter Twenty-One
James
The Crusaders’ Facility
I snap to attention and spin around when I feel Victoria and Paul nearing us.
Smithson senses it, too. In unison, we bolt up to the long hallway that leads to that heavily-guarded area.
I’m caught by surprise when I see them emerge through the lower portion of the splintered glass barrier.
Victoria is dragging Paul forward with her claws embedded in his shoulder. His blood runs down his arm. He looks to be barely conscious, eyes drooping as if he’s drunk.
Smithson and I run up to them. “What happened?” I demand. “What did you do?”
Victoria throws the fledgling onto the ground with a sound of disgust. “Much less than he deserves,” she says harshly.
Her eyes are afire. I’ve rarely seen her in so much rage.
She looks to be about ready to kill the Crusaders’ leader.
I flick my influence at her. “Calm down,” I say. “Tell me what happened.”
“This lunatic has two vampires imprisoned in there!” she exclaims, throwing her hands out to point widely at the door. “One of whom is his own daughter.”
“What?” I demand.
“He did some sick and twisted experiment on her when she was still a child,” Victoria continues. “He gave her the serum, he turned her, somehow, when she was five or six!”
I blanch in horror. “How?” I whisper.
Paul looks up from the ground. With one feeble arm he hoists himself up.
“You stay there,” Victoria snarls. “Don’t you dare move!”
She makes as if to lunge at him, and I stop her by stepping in the way.
“Stay, Victoria,” I say. “You weren’t there when it happened.”
“When what happened?” she demands.
“When the child was turned.”
“She wasn’t turned,” Paul sneers from the floor. “I would have never subjected her to that.”
“So then what?” I question.
“We attempted a… blood transfusion,” he says. “We took all the blood out of the ancient vampire and infused it into her. All the research we’d done told us it would give her the powers of a goddess, without her falling victim to the parasitic taint!”
“Tell James what happened in reality,” Victoria says in a low and dangerous voice.
Paul looks away. “The experiment failed. Miranda was lost to me. Something happened to her mind. Her body subsists, still, and she is fed a portion of blood from the old one every fortnight. But beyond her eyes… there is nothing there.”
“And you let her live like this?” Victoria snarls. “You let your own flesh and blood linger in such a horrible existence?”
“What would you have had me do?” Paul fires back. He claws at the wall and pushes himself up. “Kill her? Would you have me destroy me own baby girl?”
“You destroyed her the moment you subjected her to your sick experiment,” Victoria says.
“Yet she’s still alive,” Paul counters. “While there was a chance she might recover, I could not abide the thought of any other option.”
“How perfectly sentimental of you,” Smithson murmurs. He walks up to him and stares into his eyes. “The man I met many decades ago had no such flaw. All I saw in him then was immense hatred for all vampire-kind.”
Paul scoffs. “In public, appearances must be maintained.”
“Why did you subject your own daughter to the procedure?” I ask. “Am I right to assume she was the first?”
He nods. “The first, and the last. Why her? Because I would never risk giving somebody else such an enormous gift. If she had taken to the procedure, none of us would be here now. Melvin would certainly never have entered the picture. She would have inherited all I had, primed for it as the strongest human alive!”
“But instead you made her into a vegetable,” Victoria says.
He spreads his hands. “I ask again. What would you have me do?”
“Burn her,” Victoria says without a second’s hesitation. “Wipe that catastrophe from the face of the world. No living thing should suffer so!”
“You assume,” he says slowly, “that she has a consciousness that would let her suffer.”
“I saw her rocking on her heels!” Victoria explodes. “I saw the horrible shape she was in! There is a rule, Paul, an unspoken, unwritten rule amongst all vampires, that no fledglings are ever to be made if they are not past puberty. What you did to your own daughter does not simply go against everything we are and represent. It is a crime against nature! It is evil in its most primary form!”
“Funny, how someone who was taking so many lives without repent can lecture me on evil,” Paul mutters.
I come into the middle of our group. “I think we are glossing over a very important development,” I say.
Victoria glances at me. “Oh? And what is that?”
“The presence of that other vampire there,” I say. “The so-called ‘ancient’ one.”
Victoria sniffs dismissively. “Paul says he’s been the Crusaders’ prisoner for gener
ations. I doubt he is even as old as you.”
“Even so,” I say. “Such things must be determined. Paul,” I turn to the weakest of our group. “How old is your prisoner? How long has he been captive by you?”
He grimaces. “Like the woman said. He’s been ours for a few generations.”
“How did you trap him?”
Paul stifles a laugh. “You think I know? I wasn’t alive then! There are many stories told, of course, but there’s no way to know which one is true.”
“Then tell me the one you hold in highest regard.”
He exhales. “Fine. The way it’s told, the vampire was coaxed into partnership with us. We had something he wanted, and he worked for us in order to build enough goodwill to get it.”
“And what was that?” I ask skeptically.
“I don’t know. He was betrayed, in the end. Victoria saw him. That’s where the story ends.”
I look over at the blond spitfire. “Should we release him?”
“No!” Paul gasps. “You cannot. It would be catastrophic! It—”
“Shut it,” I snap. “Victoria? What do you think?”
“As much as I hate to say it,” she begins. “I think we should listen to Paul.”
I grunt. “Fine. Why would it be a bad idea?”
“His blood is the only thing that keeps Miranda alive,” he admits.
“She can feed on anybody’s blood,” I say.
“No. You don’t understand.” He shakes his head vigorously. “I’m sorry. I was not completely honest before. Miranda… doesn’t feed. She has transfusions done, every two weeks. She does not have the ability to feed herself.”
“And who conducts these atrocities?” Victoria asks.
“Beast,” Paul says immediately. “He’s the only one with access to the cells who knows about the transfusions. Other than me.”
“You still hold out hope that Miranda can be revived,” Smithson says in a dark tone. “It is a false one. I know. I fell victim to the same thoughts about—”
He cuts off. Then he turns slowly toward me, and finishes, “About Beatrice.”
“Was she a vampire?” I ask Victoria. “I cannot believe that her body took to the blood. The transformation cannot be replicated without a direct infusion of the serum, and—”