Lost (War of Nytefall Book 2)

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “Everyone keeps mentioning being turned, but I don’t know what that term means,” Lost explains, her sadness slipping into the minds of the guards. Not wanting to get in trouble, she frees them from her control and pulls her knees against her chest. “All I wanted to do was have some fun in my new home. Unless you’re going to send your own daughter away and make me sleep on the streets. I really believe I’m your child since we have the same hair and our noses are kind of similar. By the way, I heard you talk about killing me after taking my memories. That might not be a good idea because I never even met this Clyde. At best, you can visit an old gnomish couple near a town called Vorgabog without raising suspicions.”

  “This raises more questions,” Xavier mutters under his breath. Putting out a hand to stop Kai from drawing an enchanted sleeping dart, he takes a seat next to Lost and awkwardly pats her on the shoulder. “Much of what you say doesn’t make any sense to us. I don’t understand how these gnomes fit into your past unless one of them made you. If that is the case then they should have told you that turning is when a vampire bites a mortal and transforms them. The truth is that it couldn’t have been me because I would have remembered you like I do with all of my beloved children. You see the dwarf over there? That is Kenneth Decker, who I created on a battlefield in the Northern Continent’s mountains three hundred and twenty-four years ago. My memory is that good and I have no recollection of you.”

  “Maybe it only works on those you bite.”

  “That is what I’m saying.”

  “Well, that’s not how you made me.”

  “How else would I have sired you?”

  Lost blushes before briefly controlling Decker and Kai, the pair leaving the room and closing the door behind them. “I’m sorry nobody ever explained this to you. When a mommy and daddy fall in love or simply want to give in to their primal urges, they do something called sex. You put your thingamajig into my mommy’s whatchamacallit, the wrestling match of procreation happened, and I plopped out about eight months later. The gnomes found me after mom abandoned me and became my adopted parents, which I’m thankful for. I didn’t know I could make vampires by biting, so maybe I should go back home and turn them. They’ve done so much for me that I should repay them. Why are you and my step-mommy staring at me with your mouths open? I’m not lying.”

  Gesturing behind his back, Xavier casts a spell that freezes Lost in time and allows him to let the others back inside. Judging by the wide-eyed expressions on Decker and Kai’s faces, he can tell that they overhead the unexpected revelation. The nobleman attempts to talk, but his mind is too busy trying to make sense of what he has learned. Looking to Nadia, he can see that she is about to lose her temper again and the ridiculousness of the accusation is the only thing keeping her at bay. When she finally turns to face him, Xavier senses that he needs to choose his words carefully. Deep down, he cannot blame her for being angry, but he continues to flash a defiant smile to hide his fear. Relaxing for an instant, a thought pops into the vampire’s head and he cannot stop himself from laughing.

  “There is no possible way for me to be her father,” Xavier proudly declares. Taking a handkerchief out of his shirt pocket, he dabs at his brow and tosses the red-tinted cloth into a nearby trashcan. “If she was born instead of turned then she is really sixteen years old. That is near the beginning of our war with Clyde’s forces. There was never a moment where I was alone during the first two years of our conflict. If it was not you with me, Nadia, then it was Decker or Kai, so I could never have sired a child without one of you three knowing. Not that I would even dream of indulging in such carnal acts with anyone other than the beautiful woman who owns my heart. The silver hair must be a coincidence or an effect of being womb-born.”

  “As long as she’s telling the truth, that does make sense,” Nadia admits, her anger getting replaced by worry. Licking her lips, she takes a ruby ring out of her pocket and uses the relic to trickle blood into her mouth. “I don’t like this at all. Dawn Fangs breeding like this means they can create a massive army regardless of available mortals. This is probably why she’s so strong too. One hundred percent vampire with nothing else thrown into the mix like those made by blood or fang. We can’t let Clyde get his hands on this girl. Judging by his recruitment raids over the years, I don’t think he’s realized this is a possibility. If he was to learn about this then he’d be throwing orgies and amassing a force the world has never seen before.”

  “I doubt he would go that far,” Decker interjects while leaning against the wall. He strokes his beard while taking a longer look at Lost, who is covered in a prismatic sheen. “None of you will like to hear this, but I think we should tell Clyde. Imagine if his people begin breeding and leaving children like this around the world. We could see an epidemic of Dawn Fangs that don’t realize they’re supposed to be a secret, which puts all of us in danger. For some reason, her real parents abandoned her and never revealed that they can breed through sex. It doesn’t feel like this is an isolated incident to me, especially if this was possible sixteen years ago. Telling Clyde about this means he can cut off a dangerous situation before it occurs.”

  The idea of more womb-born roaming the world sends a shiver down Xavier’s spine that he is unable to hide. “I see your point, but I would rather not hand over such an unexpected boon just yet. Lost could be the oldest of her kind since nobody has run into anything like her until now. That means we have time before younger womb-born become visible. Unless her true mother or father is a Dawn Fang who alone has the power to breed. It is entirely possible that this is an individual’s triad ability and not one for the entire breed. That is another reason to keep this a secret from our enemies. We could be seen as overreacting fools if we went to them with a simple theory.”

  “Stephanie and I can run some tests on her,” Kai volunteers as he gets closer to the frozen Dawn Fang. A twitch of her eyelid causes him to jump back, but there is no further movement from the girl. “I would suggest that we keep Gregorio out of this too. He claims to be neutral, but that could lead to him wanting to even the playing field. My personal opinion is that we should find out for sure if she is telling the truth and the extent of this supposed origin. Then, we need to make her one of us. Telling Clyde means handing her over as proof, but that will be a moot point if we make her never want to leave Nyte. It’s obvious that she is looking for a place to belong and her power could turn the tide of this war.”

  “Are you suggesting what I think you are, Mr. Stavros?” Nadia nervously asks.

  “It would only be an act, milady.”

  “I guess I can stomach my husband playing father to a bastard child.”

  “She would see you as a mother too.”

  “That does not sound like a good thing.”

  Decker coughs for attention and raises his axe, which glows with a mild fire spell. “I agree with this plan, but recommend caution. The guards told me as I entered the castle that all of the wards are gone because she gave them a poke. It wasn’t an attack, but a curious prodding that brought such powerful spells down. This means she might be much more dangerous than we realize. Her power could rival Clyde’s in terms of scope and destructive capabilities. If we play this game with her then we do it understanding that she could turn on us for lying. Perhaps it would be easier to-”

  A loud pop shakes the castle as Lost abruptly breaks out of the time freeze spell, her eyes widening with terror. Worried that she has heard their plan, the four vampires move away and prepare to defend themselves. Instead of attacking, the Dawn Fang dives under the bed and lifts it over her head. Not finding whatever she is looking for, she tears the furniture in half and shakes it to see if anything falls out besides the stuffing. Casually throwing the broken pieces through the wall behind her, Lost rushes to a dresser that is sitting on top of an overturned coffee table. Tearing the drawers out, she throws around the clothes she stole from various rooms before kicking a hole in the wall. Scanning the room, she pounces on the hal
f-drawn curtains and rips them down along with the iron rod that had been bolted to the stone. Rummaging through the thick fabric, her chest heaves and her breathing becomes ragged until she sucks in a lungful of air.

  “Where’s my bunny!?” Lost shrieks loud enough to shatter every window in the castle.

  5

  “Thank you for talking to me,” Clyde says as he backs out of the metal cottage. Making his way to the dirt road, he is careful not to get hit by one of the many spinning weathervanes that border the walkway. “That wasn’t as informative as I’d hoped. In fact, I’m more baffled than ever. You find anything out here? The girl has only been gone for a year, which means there should be signs of her living in or around the house.”

  The Dawn Fang scowls when the raven above his head ignores his question and continues banging a snail against the branch. Waving to the bird, he stops when he spots a covered wagon heading towards him. Not wanting to be seen, Clyde leaps into the trees and creates an illusion of thick leaves around his body. He watches a pair of dwarves stop their oxen at the mouth of the path, the merchants hurrying to unload the delivery as quickly as possible. The lidless crates are filled with pieces of metal and various tools, but the last container holds bottles of crimson liquid. With a deep sniff, the hiding Dawn Fang picks up the scent of blood. Annoyed that the gnomish couple may have lied to him about Lost being gone for a year, Clyde moves to drop to the ground and charge into the cottage. He stops when the dwarves are sent back to the wagon with the final crate, which they angrily shove back into the wagon. As soon as the merchants are gone, the Dawn Fang climbs out of the tree and darts across the road to hide behind a mossy boulder. He peeks out to watch the gnomes bring their supplies inside, their actions still being observed by the vigilant raven.

  “Come over here, Luther, so we can talk,” Clyde whispers while picking up an acorn. He throws it at the bird and hits it in the head, the impact making it drop to the ground. “I barely put any strength behind that. Great, now the old woman is going to check on you. Really hope you don’t make a mess of things.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Luther asks, coming up behind his friend. He drops to all fours to avoid a punch to the head, the wind from the strike tussling his red hair. “Didn’t realize you were so tense. I was checking the surrounding forests and hid in those hedges when the merchants came by. There’s no reason to be nervous here. Even if the couple notice us, I doubt they would cause any trouble. I did find evidence of them raising Lost since there is a treehouse in the back with crude drawings of her. At least I assume it’s her since I only know she’s a half-elf with silver hair and a bunny. According to a shredded journal, she liked sleeping outside once she turned four. How did you find out about these people anyway?”

  “I hid a bunch of scrying gems around Xavier’s castle last time I was there,” the distracted vampire answers. He walks further away from the cottage and takes a seat against a tree, his tongue constantly rolling in his mouth. “What we found here doesn’t make any sense, but that’s what I used to think about myself. Lost is a vampire who was found as an infant and grew naturally like a mortal. They said she didn’t demonstrate any powers beyond strength, speed, and a charm effect until she was twelve. That’s when she began doing strange things like controlling others and talking to voices. I’m taking this with a lot of skepticism since she could have hidden the rest from them until she got stronger. Where could a vampire like this come from? If she was bitten then she’d have stayed an infant, which means . . . Do you think it’s possible that the southern equipment of a Dawn Fang works just as well as the heart and stomach?”

  “You wield great power, but you can’t bring yourself to ask about having a baby,” the forest tracker states with an amused smirk. Creating a phantom double, he sends it up the tallest tree to stand guard and allows himself to relax. “This is a situation that I’ve wondered about and discussed at length with others. To be honest, I would not be surprised to learn that we can breed like mortals. My only question would be if such a situation would always lead to a child. It’s possible that being partially undead, only a handful of our kind can accomplish this while others can’t produce a viable baby. This would mean that someone like Lost would be rare. Otherwise, we would have run into more Dawn Fangs who were birthed instead of bitten or changed by blood.”

  Picking a few blades of grass, Clyde casts them into the air and watches for where the breeze takes them. “How do we know we haven’t already run into them? These Dawn Fangs could be just as nervous about revealing themselves to us as I was about telling Xavier and the council. Something the gnomes mentioned is that Lost had plenty of friends who would visit whenever she was done with her studies. Many of them were older people with weapons who hung around without playing. I’m talking older than sixteen, which means they were born before I came back. That could just be her playing with her supposed mind control powers, but it strikes me as odd and there were younger ones in the group. I feel like the more I learn about this girl, the less sense it all makes.”

  “So, armed men and women would come to the cottage?”

  “Maybe she can do illusions too.”

  “Actually, these friends would explain something I found.”

  “Lead the way to more confusion.”

  Calling back his phantom, Luther turns in a circle to make sure he has his bearings and heads away from the cottage. Both vampires stay alert in case of an attack, but they find it difficult to focus without knowing what form the danger may take. A distinct lack of birdsong and other signs of wildlife put them on edge, the few animals they see being nothing more than beetles and spiders. Within ten minutes, the pair come out in a clearing that the forest tracker had seen from above during his earlier search. At first, Clyde thinks this is a natural creation until Luther kneels next to a circle of blackened soil. He takes off his glove to run his fingers through the mix of ash, wood chips, and bone, which prevent nature from reclaiming the area. Forcefully pushing his hand further into the dirt, he pulls out the root of an old tree that once stood in the abandoned fire pit. Rusty daggers and broken bowls are found in the patches of ankle-high grass, which is struggling to grow after years of being trampled. The pair continue walking in an ever-tightening circle until they bump into the wall of an invisible structure. It takes them a minute to see through the modest illusion, which had been hiding a five-story building shaped like a horseshoe. All of the windows have been shattered and one of the doors is hanging from its hinges, but the stone building remains relatively untouched by the passage of time.

  “I didn’t notice this from the air,” Luther admits as he leads the way to the center of the courtyard. Stopping at the edge of a square patch of earth, he takes out a coin to throw onto the suspicious spot. “Not a trap, so maybe it was where a smaller structure stood. Pocket cabins are still popular even though they’re dangerous. Someone could have kept one here and reactivated it after the five-hour cooldown. The bigger building looks like a type of barracks, which could fit a couple hundred people if they bunked together. Really wish I brought Bob along instead of letting him go back to where he first found Lost. He has a surprising amount of architectural knowledge. It’s predominantly stables, but it comes in handy.”

  “Probably for the best since I think someone buried at least one horse here,” Clyde mentions before he yanks an old saddle from the dirt. He digs a little further to find a ribcage, but it is of a dwarf instead of a horse. “Who buries someone in the middle of a living area? Not sure if I should call this a campsite or a barracks since it’s all alone in the forest. An army living here might explain why there aren’t many animals around. The local game must have been hunted pretty thoroughly and driven away. Strange that the people in Vorgabog never noticed. What do you think this has to do with Lost?”

  “I have no idea, but this could explain her armed friends,” the forest tracker answers while pulling a skull out of the ground. Unsure if it is the remains of a halfling or a child,
he puts it back in the dirt in case it is a true grave. “There might be clues in the building, but I’m more curious about what was in this spot. If I had to bet money, which I won’t, I would say this is where their leader lived. These four flat pieces of metal look like bells that you would find on a jester cap or gypsy’s anklet. I have a bad feeling that this place will only give us more questions than answers.”

  Inspecting another grave, Clyde suddenly jams his arm into the dirt and pulls out an entire skeleton. “Take a look at the neck and limbs. There are faint scrape marks similar to when a vampire is first learning to feed. Youngsters always bite too deep and cause more pain than they have to. Their fangs scratch the bone, which is only a problem if the victim lives. So, the bodies here are former meals instead of murder victims. If this was all done by Lost then it means she doesn’t know how to feed without killing. That doesn’t go in her favor.”

  “Wouldn’t we have found more bodies over the years?”

  “Not if she hides them like this or in this specific place.”

  “I don’t know. This doesn’t feel like the work of a single vampire.”

  “You’re thinking it’s a pack.”

  “These fang marks aren’t identical, so it could be one body devoured by multiple feeders.”