by Jackson Lear
“Traitors die here, don’t they?”
“All the time! Haven’t you listened to a single word I’ve been saying?”
“So what did you say that convinced them to keep you alive?”
He tried to wrestle the skin out of my hands but his tumble down the stairs had sapped his strength. “Okay! They wanted to know more about you!” He tugged. I held my grip. “All of you. Miss Kasera Lavarta, Loken, Zara, you … everyone! Who you are, what you do, why you are here.”
He got the skin back. “That’s a good start. Unfortunately it seems like you are on their side more than ours.”
“I was just–”
I pressed two fingers against his lips, silencing him. “You know that I’m here to tie up loose ends, right? Sometimes that involves a reward, sometimes it involves someone like you being buried on the outskirts of Orkust on our way back home. I prefer the first option. I’ve done it a few times. The people in your situation seem a lot happier with that one, but I will confess that a reward is more of Alysia’s forte than mine. My expertise lies in the second option. When the general’s cavalry first met me I was covered in a lot of blood belonging to a lot of people. I had enacted the second option with some unpleasant people and that was because one of my friends was in danger. Having a look around here, I have thirty friends who are in danger because of you and the way you are stalling makes me suspicious.”
“I’m–”
I pressed harder against his lips. “I want short answers. I want clear answers. Nod if you understand.”
He blinked. Finally nodded.
“If I find out that you’ve been lying to me – disorientated because of an icy bath and a broken leg is one thing – but lying … the ice water will be the least of your worries. You tell me the truth now, before we land, or you will not be given a chance to explain yourself. I don’t want clever word play. I don’t want concealing through omission. If you are working for them, that stops now. You are working for us. Nod if you understand.”
He nodded.
“Did any of them try to encourage you to join their side in the last few months?”
His eyes widened with desperation, stalling, nearly spluttering. Then came a nod.
I lifted my fingers away. “Tell me about it.”
He spoke, barely above a whisper. “It was two months ago, but I didn’t realize it at the time, I swear.”
Loken grunted beside me. “I knew it.”
“Go on,” I said.
Mikael’s voice shook with a mix of fear and cold. “I was on my second trip to Lietsmar to set things up with Torunn. We stopped to make camp near a river. I went behind a tree. When I turned around there was a vampire right in front of me. Like, two feet in front of me. I had no idea how she got that close but I knew right away what she was. She just stood there watching me for a moment. ‘Your accent is from the Dead Lake,’ she said. ‘Why are you here?’ That kind of thing. She had a Galinnean accent. I didn’t know she was from Draegor or anything like that, there’s lots of vampires in the north and only a few of them are allied with him. I was too panicked to say anything meaningful. I didn’t want her to know anything about me. Not my name, where I was from, where I was going, nothing. She pressed her hand against my chest, feeling my heartbeat I suppose. She leaned in and whispered, ‘Tomorrow night you will tell me everything.’ She stepped back, just a foot or so, and indicated for me to return to camp. I did. I couldn’t sleep or eat or anything. After an hour I had calmed down enough to maybe tell someone that there was a vampire nearby and that we should stay watch or move on or do something. As soon as I made up my mind to tell our caravan driver, the dogs started barking. They were all facing where I had gone to take a leak, barking like they knew what was out there. Everyone woke up. We armed ourselves. The caravan driver shouted a, ‘Who’s there?’ There was no answer. Eventually the dogs stopped barking. The driver took a couple of them and went to investigate. He came back. Didn’t find anything. Didn’t look spooked or anything. I stayed awake the whole night, absolutely still. I’m sure she was watching me the whole time.
“Things were better in the daylight. I fell asleep in the back of the cart for a bit. We pressed on, stopped for camp, and I refused to go to the river or take a leak anywhere that was out of sight of everyone else. I thought we were safe as well, until everyone fell asleep. Someone started muttering. ‘Why are you here?’ they said. Soon it was more than just one person. I think three people started whispering in their sleep. And they were in a deep, deep sleep. ‘Come talk to me or I will kill them all,’ they said. The dogs stirred, listening to the voices but not understanding them, you know? After an hour of being taunted like this I was ready to die. Like, I had actually made peace with myself. I got up. Walked half a mile into the trees and expected to keep on walking until whatever was going to happen happened. The vampire crossed my path, illuminated by the moonlight. She ran her fingers across my throat and asked me again who I was and what I was doing up here. I told her I was coming to meet my friend. She cut the base of her hand with one of her nails and pushed the wound into my mouth. I nearly gagged. She asked me something else and I think I answered. Superficial questions. Who was I meeting? Where? I didn’t answer those. She pushed her hand back into my mouth and asked, ‘What do you want?’ And for some reason I started asking her the questions. I wanted to know if the vampire alliance with Vasslehün was real. ‘Why would that interest you?’ she asked. I realized pretty quickly that I had revealed too much, but I couldn’t help it and started asking one question after the next, figuring that maybe I could get some information that would help you or Torunn or anyone who was involved in this. So I asked, ‘why is the alliance in place? Who is in charge? What are the vampires getting out of it?’”
Loken interjected. “What are the vampires getting out of it?”
“Chaos, I think. Every summer the northerners hunt them. Every winter the vampires hunt them back. The alliance stops a lot of the summer hunters reaching the vampires and the northerners end up fighting each other. But she didn’t answer any question, she just listened.”
I asked, “What did you tell this vampire about us?”
“I didn’t give her any names. Not my name, not who I was meeting or who had sent me. The only name I did mention was Draegor’s. But I was scared and asked a lot of questions so she probably figured out enough of what I was doing up there to know what I was up to. She did ask, ‘How many southerners are coming?’ I didn’t know. We hadn’t arranged that yet. I didn’t tell her that, I just told her I didn’t know the answer. She asked when you all were coming. I think I muttered, ‘Before it’s too late.’ I guess she knew that meant ‘soon’, especially because the days were getting darker and the vampire season was about to begin.”
Mikael eased back, his eyes weary as remorse coursed through him. “I didn’t see her again. I didn’t even realize she might have been a part of Draegor’s vampire alliance until after I met with Torunn. It was days later in Lietsmar. I went to pack my things to leave my room and there was a purse with a hundred silver coins lying on my bed. They had the mark of the Vasslehün on them. That’s when I knew.”
“Have you had any other kind of contact since then?”
“No. Only Torunn and the captain of the ship.”
“No money drops?”
“No.”
“You haven’t seen anyone like her since?”
“No.”
“Was there anything unusual about her? Aside from being a vampire?”
“I don’t … I mean, she was the first vampire I’d ever seen, you know? She didn’t look as bad as that one who ambushed us. I guess she might be younger. But she … well, she kinda left a lot of long pauses between the end of me talking and the start of her talking. That was weird.”
I left a long pause to help jog his memory. “Did she look away when she did that?”
“She looked me up and down a few times, checking my eyes, my pulse, whatever.”
&
nbsp; “Did she do that while speaking?”
“Not really.”
“When you were talking to her?”
“No. Then she was listening closely.”
“So her attention shifted mostly during the silence in between?”
“Yes.”
“Did she mispronounce any words?”
Mikael strained an incredulous look at me. “Huh?”
“Did it look at all like someone was whispering to her?”
“There wasn’t anyone else there,” muttered Mikael.
“Say there was but you couldn’t see them because they were communicating through the spirit world. Did this vampire look like someone was whispering to her and feeding her the names of people or places that she hadn’t heard before?”
“I guess … but who …?”
“Say, a seer. Someone who knows things she shouldn’t know because the spirits talk back to her. And since vampires have one foot in the grave, so to speak, maybe she figured out that they can hear her no matter where she is in the world.”
“I … maybe? I didn’t see or hear any seer talk.”
I looked up to Alysia. Disappointment cascaded across her face. “Let’s get him to a doctor,” she said.
“Thank you,” said Mikael, his mouth quivering like he was fighting off a bout of tears and maintaining a brave face.
“Who’s the best doctor in Faersrock?” asked Alysia.
Mikael paused, his eyes darting from side to side. “We’re … we’re going towards the vampire attack?”
Chapter Nineteen
“Shut up!” shrieked Saskia, waking half of the soldiers. They reached for their weapons, realized that there was no one near her, and watched in bewilderment as Saskia thumped to the front of the ship. She sat, facing the oncoming fjords, and pulled her cloak over her head.
Lindum was next, murmuring under his breath, pausing, murmuring again, the way you would talk to yourself out loud if you were sure no one could hear you. He remained lying on his front, his wounded shoulder still too fresh for him to move about.
Several of the soldiers returned to leaning back against the railing, eyes closed, jaws hanging loosely open, snorting themselves awake every now and then. Whenever they stirred they shot a hand to their sword, waking the man next to them at the surprise attack that was sure to happen … then the calm kissed them goodnight, they grunted at another half hour of disturbed sleep, and returned to their slumber.
My stomach growled loudly. The only food we found was what lay in the four small rations from mercenaries we had ambushed. Bits of seaweed. Slivers of cooked fish.
Horns sounded in the distance. Some prearranged signals for the locals to understand. Probably a call to arms or announcing that the king was dead.
I rolled one of Draegor’s silver coins across my knuckles. The three mercenaries killed by the king in the great hall had their purses stuffed with them. It seemed unusual, even if they had been paid by one of the nobles to kill the king. I was trying to piece together the loud booms and shaking within the castle to the threesome and their haul of silver. I could explain it if Draegor’s bedroom was underground and the door had to be forced open by magical means. Or if they had lured him downstairs and attempted to blast him to pieces. Either way it hardly mattered now. He was dead. So were they.
Alysia rolled over next to me, her tiny face surrounded by an extraordinary amount of fur. We hit a wave larger than the ones before. Her eyes flicked open. Settled. Realized the sun was still hours away from rising. “You should get some rest.”
“I will.”
Haraj slurred in anger from the other side of the boat. “Maybe I should just run my sword through you. See if that helps.”
Loken strode forward. “Haraj?”
The infantryman reddened. “Sorry, sir.”
“Who were you talking to?”
“It’s nothing, I’m sorry.”
“Who were you talking to?”
He gritted his teeth, annoyed for losing his composure. “My uncle.”
“That’s not who was really talking to you. Who is it?”
Haraj rolled his head from side to side, still annoyed with himself. “The witch.”
Loken turned to address the bleary-eyed vanguard. “Listen up! Everyone who has drunk blood wine since leaving the castle, raise your hand.”
I raised mine. Others did the same.
“And everyone who has been visited by ghosts while onboard this ship, raise your hand.”
About three quarters of those who had drunk blood wine kept their hands up.
“Raise your hand if you have not drunk blood wine and if you have seen a ghost onboard.”
No one raised a hand.
“There. I don’t care if you see your mother, father, brother, father, sister, aunt, uncle … anyone. It’s not them. It’s the witch. Tell her to shut the fuck up and let’s not bother anyone until we reach landfall again, okay? Okay.”
Alysia blinked back at me. “Is yours still there?”
My father stood before me, babbling an apology.
“No,” I said. “You should try to sleep.”
“So should you.”
“I will.”
Alysia did her best to nestle into a comfortable position while lying on thick wooden blanks.
I rolled the coin across my knuckles. My father sneered at me. “She’s going to leave you, you know?”
Zara came up from below. Sat down next to me. Extended her legs and tried to fight off the shivering cold. She was as wide awake as I was. And as silent.
There we were, Kasera’s vanguard mingling with Agnarr’s crew, having just escaped a northern fortress and now sailing across the Dead Lake with nothing to do but wait until we reached Faersrock.
My father kept taunting me. Reminding me that I was supposed to die on a black shore.
I pocketed the coin. Decided it was a fine time to clean my blade. My father drifted away, no doubt heading off to bother someone else. Zara, maybe.
I’d like to say that I remembered exactly how my blade came into my possession but for the life of me I can’t remember. A long while ago I emerged from a hangover that likely sapped a couple of years from my life expectancy. I had one eye swollen shut. Dull ringing in both ears made the voices of everyone around me sound the same. The blade was strapped to my back in its sheath. I kept quiet about it in case the owner came looking for it. They never did. We returned to Erast amid stories of utter lunacy and bullshit. Stomp was known for his exaggerations, Greaser was known for being subdued, yet they both laid claim to the ballsiest heist we had ever survived. We all had gear we couldn’t quite place. Lieutenant came within inches of having his own enchanted longsword – lighter and more graceful than his regular one – only for the whole armory to collapse in front of us.
Since then my blade had shrunk an inch in length from repeated sharpenings. Its handle had been shattered more times than my ego and glued back together just as often. I kept it not just for sentimental reasons but because it marked a forward step for me as a young man. I was a whirlwind of fury when I first joined the Governor’s Hand and I was positively thirsty to learn each and every weapon; smartassary included, it would seem. We had a variety of weapons to specialize in; longswords, short swords, clubs, hammers, javelins, spears, daggers, axes, chain whips, bows … everything. You tend to gravitate towards one more than the others. I went for the shorter end of the spectrum – forcing me to get in close to my target. I proclaimed often and loudly at fifteen that I was a man. I had a job, I had been blind stinkingly drunk, I had been in a fight and survived, I had been caught by the city watch and kept my mouth shut, and probably most important to any fifteen year old: I had gotten laid. It was paid for and downright terrifying, but it came from my own money. Our old captain gave me a congratulations, then snorted when I told him it wasn’t my first time. He knew otherwise. They all did.
Getting this blade is when I’m convinced I actually became a man. I must’ve
picked it up, knew it didn’t belong to me, but decided that I was going to keep it instead of offering it to the company’s takings. This is mine and fuck you I’m keeping it. Prior to that the captain would’ve forced me to hand it over. But he didn’t this time. Something had changed in me and he knew it.
A split was forming along the upper edge. A few months ago a man the size of an ogre wrenched my blade from the underside of his foot and slammed it against the ground. I had done my best to seal it and fix it but I was already cautious of using it if I didn’t have to. I sheathed it with care. Folded my arms across my chest. Stared back at the shimmering spectral version of Día kneeling in front of me, on the verge of tears. Her arms were spread weakly towards me. Her wrists had been slashed with a knife and dripped with blood. Her lips trembled as she refused to cry.
We hit a wave, bouncing us awake. The crew jolted – ready to man the oars and sails – then slowly eased back to sleep.
Día pulled her arms against her chest. Crawled forward into the space between Alysia and me, curled herself into a ball, and remained quiet.
I don’t know what tempted me to try and stroke her hair. Exhaustion, probably. My hand fell through the air and landed on the wooden floor below. Zara glanced over, scorn washing over her.
Día slipped into a satisfied smile, one that consumed her features. I could even feel Desdola grinning to herself from miles away. Gotcha.
Chapter Twenty
An inlet opened up, one of dozens we had passed already. The rocks and broken trees were practically identical to everything else we had seen up here, yet the sailors angled us closer. The northern wind slapped us in the face, a bite that stung my eyes and burned my cheeks. The first mate bellowed one command after another. The sailors darted across the boat, navigating us forward despite the wind coming straight at us. We zigzagged from one side of the inlet to the other until we reached a rickety jetty a few miles in. The closer we got, the more salty spray attacked us, clinging to our faces and frazzling everyone’s exhausted patience.
