Lost (War of Nytefall Book 2)
Page 5
“Sorry, but you’re not a horse,” Bob casually replies. He takes a large bite from his meal and wipes his mouth on his dusty sleeve. “I don’t turn people since I’m so busy tending to my four-legged babies. A few six-legged ones too. Horses are much easier to take care of because they understand me. Besides, vampires keep their hair color after turning, which means one of your parents had silver hair. You haven’t been one of us for very long.”
“I’m sixteen . . . sev . . . one . . . two . . . Give me a minute,” the girl says as her voice trails off. She counts her fingers twice and moves on to her toes, but they are too ticklish for her to touch for very long. “Guess I haven’t been a Dawn Fang for very long. I’m only sixteen and vampires are supposed to be much older. Still, I had a lot of friends like me, so it isn’t like I know nothing about this life. I should really send them a letter and make sure they aren’t mad that I left. Bunny might have eaten paper and an ink quill last week. Give me a minute to check him. Why do I keep finding those fingers first?”
Kicking dirt on the fire to put it out, Bob keeps an eye on the odd girl, who is busy emptying the squirming bunny. “I hope you haven’t caused any trouble. Clyde has made strict rules about our kind. We are to remain a secret and any who put the Dawn Fangs at risk are supposed to be destroyed. Have you done anything wrong? I ask only because you seem rather impulsive and you aren’t paying attention to the bunny demanding that you stop. If you really cared about him then you would listen.”
Lost remains frozen in fear at the thought of being executed, the friendly warmth of the campsite vanishing in an instant. Gulping down a lump in her throat, the girl turns around to face Bob and is thankful to see that he is smiling. She opens her mouth to speak when she peers around him and sees a pair of clawed hands emerge from his shadow. Screaming at the top of her lungs, Lost smacks the other Dawn Fang away with her half of the cooked stag and sprints into the forest. Instead of hopping, the bunny flies after her and repeatedly bounces off the trees with echoing thuds. A loud crash is heard an instant before an enormous oak shudders and falls into the camp, the dangerous obstacle forcing Bob to dive into a thorn bush. He whistles to make sure his horse is safe, the beast replying with a nervous whinny and clopping hooves.
“What in all of Windemere just happened?” Mab asks as she emerges from the horse’s shadow. Her head is covered in blood and cracked open, so she pushes it together to help the wound heal. “First, my way in is shaken up and I nearly lose my hands. Opening portals with my feet is doable, but means I have to sacrifice my boots. Then, I pop up to receive a tree to the skull. You know brain injuries are the hardest ones to recover from, so you better have a good explanation.”
“Uh . . . I think we lost Lost,” Bob replies with an awkward grin.
*****
“I came here looking for knowledge and need some help,” Lost says, her sudden appearance startling the Garian priestess. Bending down to help the young woman pick up her fallen scrolls, the Dawn Fang does her best to ignore the whispering voices in her head. “Sorry, but I was walking by and I heard someone say that Gar is the God of Knowledge. That means he knows everything, so he can tell me where my father is. I’ve already looked through the books over here, but this place is so big. I was hoping you could point me in the right direction or tell me where I can find Gar. If it isn’t written down, I’m sure he knows.”
“How did you get on the restricted floor?” the young woman asks as she looks over the railing. Seven stories down, she can still see the signs and barriers that run up the stairs to stop guests from entering the protected stacks. “The Knowledge Lord decides when to contact those who are true to his edicts. That is not to say he will ignore you, but I don’t think we have the information you seek. A missing person is more for the guards.”
The Dawn Fang sighs and takes a seat on the railing, her attention momentarily locked on the mortal’s bare feet. “I like your toes. Anyway, my father isn’t missing since I’m sure he knows exactly where he is. We’ve never met since I was abandoned and raised by two gnomes who found me. Such a sad story like the ones I found in a lot of these books. Babies getting tossed away by mothers is very common. Somebody should do something about that. Not me because I have too much to deal with. At least these days, so maybe I can solve the problem when I’m older since I have eternity. What were we talking about?”
“I’m not sure anymore,” the priestess admits with a chuckle. Fascinated by the girl, she pulls out a notebook and does a quick sketch with a quill that changes the ink’s color to match the subject. “My name is Calia and it’s nice to meet you. The local Zarian Temple has an orphanage, which could help you. Although, if you aren’t from around here then there wouldn’t be any information on your father. The only way you can discover him in our archives is if he is famous enough to get catalogued. I’ve memorized much of the modern works, so you can give me a description. Perhaps I’ve stumbled onto him in my studies and Gar has put me in your path for a reason.”
“So, gods place people in each other’s way like mud puddles and branches,” Lost mutters to herself. Leaning forward to sniff at the woman, she shrugs at the mild odor and does a backflip to stand with her arms out. “I’ve never met him before, but he has to look something like me. Silver hair and either a human or an elf since I’m half of each. Taller than me with different parts between the legs. Oh, he would be a Dawn Fang. I’m new to the term even though I’ve been one for sixteen years. That means he would have to have been one for at least that long, right? Maybe my fangs look like his and you’ve seen a picture. Ahhh!”
“How did a vampire get in here?”
“The pretty glass door over there.”
“That’s a window.”
“I told the voices that, but they said it was a secret entrance.”
“Please don’t eat me.”
“Your safe because you aren’t wearing any socks.”
The unexpected phrase snaps the priestess out of her fear and she covers her mouth to prevent her superiors from hearing her laugh. A slamming door makes Calia jump and she turns in time to spot a high priest leaving his office, only one of his arms in his robe as he hurries down the stairs. Worried that they will get in trouble, she grabs Lost by the arm and drags her into the stacks. Afraid that she has overstepped her bounds, she bows to the silver-haired girl and makes a quick gesture of forgiveness. Hearing an odd noise, the priestess looks up to see that the Dawn Fang has begun climbing the shelves to grab a colorful book from the top. For the first time, she notices the bunny and nearly screams when it abruptly lifts its dead-eyed head. The animal yawns and climbs up to its master’s shoulder where it appears to nibble on the tip of her ear.
“This is pretty, but not what I wanted,” Lost admits as she hands the book on gems over to the priestess. She cocks her head to the side and her eyes widen as a chorus of voices echo in her head. “I think I have to go soon. You said you might know my father. Did anything I say remind you of another Dawn Fang?”
“There’s one book in our Gods’ Voice temple about your people, but I haven’t been able to read it yet,” Calia says while floating the book back into its place. Her eyes fall on Lost’s hair and she timidly reaches out to touch a wispy tress. “A friend of mine is a follower of Durag, who is a god that hates all vampires. She mentioned a silver-haired bastard by the name of Xavier Tempest. I think this person lives in the city of Nyte, but I don’t know for a fact that he’s one of these Dawn Fangs. That’s all I know about specific vampires since I was never interested enough to study the lore.”
“Xavier . . . Tempest,” the Dawn Fang whispers in a faint voice. Rolling her tongue in her mouth, she softly repeats the name until she has it memorized. “I heard of a city called Nytefall, but not Nyte, but it shouldn’t be too hard to find. If this man has silver hair then he has to be my father. How many people with silver hair can there possibly be in Windemere? There’s me, him, and this woman I found sleeping in a forest. She looked too c
omfortable to disturb, but I know she wasn’t my father. Thanks for the help.”
“You’re welcome,” the priestess replies, a sense of relief washing over her. She is about to mention the door when Lost runs for the open window and jumps out with enough strength to land in the trees at the edge of town. “Dawn Fangs are certainly interesting creatures. So powerful even in the daylight, which means they’re nothing like other vampires. I should research them and see if I can help High Priest Pyodorus with his work. It’s almost time for me to pick a final project and mentor and that could be fun. What is all of that yelling? Don’t people realize this is a temple and a library.”
The young woman hurries down the steps to see if her colleagues need any help, the voices getting louder by the minute. Passing a window, Calia spots the local patrons run out of a side door and can barely hear them yelling for the guards. The priestess grabs a staff from a rack kept by the next stairwell without slowing down, but prays that she will not have to fight. Her hopes are dashed when she comes to the bottom step and freezes at the sight of an enormous crowd that has filled the first floor. The front doors are left wide open due to the dirt-covered mob spilling out into the street. People of every civilized race and age can be seen in the mass of bodies, each one brandishing at least one weapon. Scanning the faces, Calia notices that many of them are twitching at the corners of their lips and some are gasping for air. There is a wildness in all of their eyes, which unnerves even the high priest who stands before them with his glowing hands spread wide.
The crowd gradually calms down and parts to allow a tall man in a leather jacket to walk to the front. Unlike the others, his jaundiced eyes are filled with an eerie calm and he maintains a grin that only breaks when he licks his lips. A tangle of black hair is on his slightly narrowed head, which repeatedly threatens to cock to the side. Putting his hands in his pockets and pulling his jacket open, the man reveals a green and blue jester outfit complete with curved shoes. The stranger chuckles when he gets within an inch of the high priest’s face and the holy figure refuses to lower his arms. To the hooting laughter of his friends, the stranger imitates the Garian’s stance and leans in close enough to touch their noses together.
“Little voices have told us that the person we seek is here,” the man whispers as the high priest takes a nervous step back. Feeling like he has won, he turns around and claps to get the others to cheer. “Nobody beats the great Archillious in a staring contest. For my victory, I request a special girl who owes us immortality. She has silver hair, a bunny, wears pajamas, and . . . met with that one in the back. An eye twitch can tell a man with my unmatched abilities so much. Now, pretty please tell us where our dear mistress has run off to this time and only the people who look at us funny will be hurt.”
3
Clyde kicks the boulder with enough force to send it high into the sky, a faint trail of dirt following it until a strong wind blows it away. With a frown, he takes a step to the right and watches the rock move to the side instead of falling straight down. The vampire is about to leap and meet his makeshift punching bag in midair, but stops and settles for pulling back to deliver a half-strength punch. Another thought comes to his mind and he changes his stance again while red mist roils around his body. Running his tongue along his silver-hued fangs, Clyde abruptly loses interest in practicing and casually backhands the boulder once it is within reach. The blow sounds like a lazy slap, but the power is enough to turn the stone into powder. Growling in frustration, the bored Dawn Fang grabs his nearby shirt and trudges across the courtyard with no destination in mind. Coming to a metal door, he pauses and realizes that he is not sure what is on the other side. After seventeen years, he cannot remember even noticing the entrance, which makes him chuckle. Throwing it open, he is met with a collection of brooms and mops that are covered in cobwebs. Grabbing the nearest tool, the infamous vampire shrugs and goes about sweeping the dusty floor.
“For the love of blood, you really need to get out of Nytefall,” Mab says as she slips out of Clyde’s shadow. With a gentle yank, she pulls Bob and his metal horse out of the darkness, the beast shivering from what it has seen. “Stop being afraid that you’re going to snap and devour an entire city. Just go somewhere and relax. You don’t even need to get into a fight to have fun. I can think of at least ten places you would enjoy. Many of them are in Gaia, which is growing larger by the year. If you’re so concerned about your Lord’s Rage running out of control then I’m sure we can find some bandits for you to wipe out beforehand. What about tracking down and killing one of those Weapon Dragons that popped up a decade ago? I hear they’re very challenging and aggressive.”
“You missed a spot,” Bob points out while he rubs his horse’s head. Unable to calm the animal down, he gives it a kiss on the nose and has it fall into pieces. “Now I have to rebuild Ironmane. Thought this one wouldn’t have a problem with those shadow creatures, but that place gets scarier every time. That stain isn’t going to come out with sweeping, big boss. You need one of the mops, some water, and dread boar urine. That last one stinks, but it’ll destroy whatever you put it on. Even better, it could attract dread boars and we can have a feast. I’m sure animals that big can swim thousands of miles without a problem. When did we get a broom closet here anyway?”
“Your guess is as good as mine, Bob,” Clyde admits with a yawn. Holding the broom like a javelin, he throws it at the nearest wall and watches it slam into the stone. “Before my change, I could find challenges and keep myself entertained. Those moments of risk made the downtimes feel so sweet because it was like I earned them. Now, I’m no longer afraid of being defeated in battle and heists offer no danger. I could walk right into any place I want, slaughter the guards, and walk out with the loot. That doesn’t mean I’m cancelling our trip to Fornyle, Mab, but I might not be as excited as you. I’m trying not to come off as egotistical, but I’ve become so much stronger than everyone. Shouldn’t there be people rising to my level? Even the gods have each other to contend with, so why am I left to wallow in my own strength?”
Darting around Mab, Bob hurries to give his friend a hug and offers the other man a sugar cube. “This will make you feel better. Not the snack, but something that we found. Well, it’s someone and she found me. Mab might have spooked her with one of her creepy entrances and we have no idea where she went. Took a few hours to make sure Mab’s brain didn’t fall out of the new hole in her head. In her defense, most people can’t walk off getting a full-grown tree to skull in less than a day, so she should be very proud. I did ask all of the rabbits I could find, but they were busy trying to find mates. Maybe a mate can help you avoid boredom. Not as much fun as riding horses, but the concept is the same. Maybe Mab can-”
“Thanks for the snack,” Clyde interrupts, popping the sugar cube into his mouth. He squints at the sour taste that strikes his tongue, but refuses to spit out the treat. “That really hit the spot there, Bob. Not sure what you added, but it did the trick. Do you want to add onto what he just rambled, Mab? Best to hear from both of you.”
“I’ll do my best, but this girl disappeared before I could see her,” the burglar admits while taking a flask from her jacket. Sipping at the blood, she touches her head to see if the lingering crack remains. “Her name is Lost and she’s a Dawn Fang, but not one that we’ve ever seen before. It’s clear that she’s never been to Nytefall or Gregorio’s since she didn’t know what she was until she met Bob. That means the man, who she calls father, abandoned her right after the turning. She’s probably been wandering around Windemere for . . . Well, she claims to be sixteen years old, but we can’t figure out if she’s telling us her mortal or vampire age. All I can say from my own experience is that she’s skittish and powerful. The tree she hit me with wasn’t knocked over on purpose. This Lost was so panicked that she ran right through the trunk and it happened to fall on me.”
“Someone like that can be trouble.”
“I agree, which is why I want to find her.”
“You aren’t thinking of executing this girl, are you?”
“Those are our-”
“No. She cannot be killed for breaking rules that she never knew existed.”
Clyde is about to argue when he sees the defiant glare in Mab’s eyes and hears her claws gently extend. Glancing at Bob, he can tell that the elf agrees with his partner and is trying hard to stay out of the looming fight. Feeling angry at himself for acting more like a warlord than the gang leader he used to be, he turns away and lifts a boulder over his head. Instead of throwing it like his friends expect, Clyde spins it on his finger at a speed that makes it an oddly shaped, tan blur. He uses his thumb to gradually sheer off the rough pieces until he is holding a perfectly smooth orb. Placing the stone down, he rolls it towards a corner where more of the large globes have been haphazardly placed to gather dust. Facing his friends again, the powerful vampire bows his head in apology while holding up a hand to stop them from talking.
“You’re right to a point,” Clyde says as he wipes his hands on his shirt. Heading for the wall, he extracts the broom to find that it is broken beyond repair. “We need to give this Lost a chance to explain herself and learn what it means to be a Dawn Fang. Yet, she does pose a risk to us remaining a secret. As long as she doesn’t expose us then she has nothing to fear. I’m not some evil warlord or a total psychopath. She’ll be given every chance that I can reasonably find, but there are lines I will not let her cross and come back from. Otherwise, we could have an outbreak of Dawn Fangs going that far and expecting a slap on the wrist. The only reason Nytefall and our people stay safe is because people fear me and . . . I really have become an evil warlord.”
“To be fair, you’re trying to rule over a race of destructive monsters that wield enough power to tear Windemere in half,” Bob calmly states with a smirk. Picking up the head of his fallen steed, he licks his thumb and tries to wipe off an unsightly blemish. “Dawn Fangs aren’t the easiest people to get under control as we saw in the early years. The only reason it worked then is because Xavier had his people coming after us. Now that the war has become less exciting and more indirect, we can shift Nytefall into a more civilized system. That always has a dark side where the ambitious strive for power, which is exaggerated in our kind. Without a bigger monster at the helm, the Dawn Fangs would have already imploded or tried to conquer Windemere. That could have caused Gabriel to send destined heroes after us and rebalance the scales of our world. As you’ve said in the past, last thing we want is to become the next Hejinn and get erased.”