by Sela Croft
“It would certainly confuse them, wouldn’t it?” I said. “And you didn’t say the glamour had to be beautiful, only that it was a disguise.”
“You are an excellent student,” Selene said. “I’ll leave you to practice diligently. You are a talented sorceress, and a capable vampire.”
I had a sense that I’d be able to put all this innate ability to good use. I’d always wanted to be strong, so I wouldn’t need any more protecting. I wished to be Draven’s equal, to rule by his side with pride—and now I knew that was possible.
Chapter 7 – Draven
Yesterday on the cliffs had been a close call for Mirela. The king had used the cheap trick of hiring the enforcers to bring her to the royal palace. That had been a disaster in the making, because once Mirela was in his grasp, he’d do his worst.
And that would involve torture and death. I shuddered to think about it. Mirela had narrowly escaped, thanks to her cleverness and resilience—but that didn’t make it any more palatable. Alban had to be stopped, and I was the one to do it.
For some time, my army had been preparing to escalate the war. My Guardians had held off the Royal Army and the Dark Fighters for long enough. It was time to take them out of commission. My generals were briefed and my soldiers ready.
That morning, as I left Mirela, my battalions moved toward the front lines. Quin, Spence, and Jon, with a sizable army faction, accompanied me on another mission. Our target was Silvain’s guerilla troops. I couldn’t allow them to thwart my battle strategy, so took on the task of stopping them.
If all went according to plan, I would be the next king. I hadn’t craved usurping the monarchy, but I’d been forced into the position. The only other choice was to allow Alban to perpetrate his insanity upon the realm, which would be no future at all.
Or to let Silvain have free rein, but he wasn’t much better. To institute a new system and create a kingdom at peace, I would take control and ensure that the evil that gnawed at life and happiness was held at bay.
I’d relinquished the castle city into Calina’s capable hands, with Mirela by her side. I had confidence that my sister would manage in my absence, and that Mirela would provide the support she required. General Clay was orchestrating the attacks from the command center and would be at my sister’s disposal if she needed him.
As I rode away, I thought of the future. Alban’s threat loomed, but Mirela had blossomed over the recent months. In her vampire state, she had grown stronger. She also had her magic, such as the telekinesis she’d used to prevent her abduction. It was encouraging to see, and I had hope that her powers would increase, making her impervious to outside threats.
My comrades rode beside me, and we headed for the locations where the guerilla fighters were expected. It was vital that they not be allowed to continue to mow us down. The outcome of the war might depend on gaining traction against the Dark Fighters, who had become a major influence.
I thought of the future and my role as a barricade to death’s assault. My actions could sway the ultimate resolution, but a tinge of guilt stabbed at my gut. Although I’d brushed aside any regret, the fact remained that I’d violated the rules of the immortal prophecy.
The easy part had been loving Mirela, so making her my queen would be a privilege. Yet the last part of the prophecy had forbidden me to go to my love in advance. It had been ordained that she would come to me. But that hadn’t happened, since my desire to see her had overridden all else.
The caution from the prophecy ran through my mind:
But be forewarned, king of the immortals,
If you make contact beforehand,
Your queen will be forever lost to you.
I dared not think that I’d lost Mirela. Although I hadn’t heeded the warning, events that had transpired since had led me to believe that we might yet rule together as king and queen. But I still walked on destiny’s path, the same as Mirela did.
Much could change over the course of the next few weeks. Mirela had been in danger since the moment she’d met me. It seemed my enemies were aware of her importance, so sought to possess or destroy her. Alban was the worst of all, but there had been others—Silvain had been one.
And there might be more before this was over. It seemed that no matter how hard I tried to prevent it, evil’s tendrils reached out for Mirela, and danger found her. The only solution was to achieve victory and be the king that I was meant to be.
Yet doubt nagged at me. Was there something I’d overlooked? Was there an aspect that I’d been blind to? A mistake could lead to harm or death for Mirela. She could be forever lost to me, as the prophecy threatened, and I was acutely aware of it.
But I couldn’t allow my fear that I had toyed with destiny shake my confidence. So I rode forth, with every intention of besting the enemy, and to prevent fate from taking my love away from me.
Quin rode beside me. “We’re on track. Our latest intelligence reports indicate that we will encounter the Dark Fighters if we keep to this course.” He sniffed. “I can already smell them.”
“I’m not maligning your sense of smell,” I said. “But even you cannot pick up their scent from this distance.”
Quin smirked. “Ah, you doubt me. Well, I shall have to prove myself.”
I surveyed our troops, noting that our formation was as planned. Guerilla fighters had unique methods, so it was best not to ride in a cohesive group. My soldiers had spread out and were in staggered teams, to make it difficult for the enemy to surround us.
The hours passed as we rode a distance into the coastal region. We didn’t need to enter the rainforest, because Silvain’s strategy was to come for us. He intended to weaken our forces with his persistent attacks, well before we entered his region.
Jon was leading a small band to the east, and I spotted him weaving through the trees. My immediate party was led by Quin. And Spence had scouted ahead with a team of soldiers for protection. The rest of the army faction was spread throughout the hills, ready to go into action, as soon as the fighters were spotted.
The strategy was to approach, then safely dismount and sneak through the hills on foot. It was how the fighters did it, and we intended to best them at their own game. My commanders had drilled their soldiers with an eye toward guerilla methods.
Recently, some of my battalions had experienced success at winning skirmishes with the fighters. That had inspired confidence, and I’d ramped up our efforts. Over the weeks, I’d had reports of more wins, but not enough to propel us to ultimate victory.
As we moved stealthily through the hills, my hopes were high. We dismounted and tethered the horses, certain that we were close. Jon looked across the gully at us, letting me know he was ready to move. Then flashes of dark made adrenaline flood my veins.
Just across the way, the fighters dressed in black had swooped down on my men. Jon disappeared, and I didn’t know what had happened. Yet there was no time to think about it. The air moved with the sounds of the enemy approaching.
Swooshes of whips and muffled cries warned that we were under attack. Quin motioned to his men, and they went into instant action when the fighters emerged. Like burglars, the dark ones appeared from the shadows, armed with weapons and itching for the kill.
I fought along with my men. The forked light from my palms was as effective on the dark vampires as it had been on the hunters. What damage my light didn’t do, my whip or sword made up for. I wiped out several fighters and spun to find another.
Then a snap in the air warned me that I’d misjudged. An unseen fighter was behind me; his whip wrapped around my neck and the tip of light struck my head, incapacitating me. Stunned, I fell to the ground, thinking only of reaching my sword.
But the fighter in front of me unsheathed his sword, and it glinted in the light. Before I could move, he swept it back to carve off my head. In the next second, his head fell free of his shoulders and his body smacked to the ground.
Quin stepped forth, having saved me, and not a secon
d too soon. I scrambled to my feet. The effect of the light had dissipated, and I was back in the fight. Enraged by the attack, I killed as many fighters as I could reach. Yet I was aware that my own men were dying in the battle as well.
Then the melee ended, and silence descended. Whatever fighters were left had vanished into the trees. Bloody bodies were strewn over the dirt. I looked up. “Jon…” I raced across the gully and found my comrade bleeding on the ground.
One of his soldiers was wrapping his neck to stop the flow. “He nearly didn’t make it,” the soldier said. “The enemy’s sword cut deep. I defended him, but not quite swiftly enough.”
I motioned to a group of soldiers. “Quickly, get Jon taken care of. Ride with speed back to the castle. He needs medical attention.”
Jon’s eyes met mine. “I didn’t see the fighter soon enough.”
“Don’t worry about that,” I said. “You’ll heal. I can see that you came away with your head.” I was relieved that he was talking and would live to fight another battle—but my comrade had nearly lost his life.
I surveyed the damage, not at all sure that it had been worth it. The Dark Fighters were treacherous, so had proven more difficult to conquer than expected. It was time to regroup. I’d lost too many men to plunge ahead toward more disaster.
I’d ordered my men to return to the castle fortress. It seemed that Silvain had been one step ahead of us. Next time we’d fare better, but I’d need more soldiers. Upon my return, I went directly to the command center.
One of my generals had returned from the battlefield and was debriefing. General Clay motioned for me to take a seat. “Simpson has returned from the front with quite a story.” He nodded. “Continue…tell Draven what you told me.”
In great detail, Simpson told of a battle that had recently occurred. He’d been leading a battalion to fight the Royal Army. At the border of the king’s region, royals had poured from the mountains like a sea of monsters. They moved forward in tight formation, appearing unstoppable.
Slowly and steadily, the royal troops had marched toward a faction of Guardians, having the advantage of immense force and great numbers. “It appeared they might overcome us,” Simpson said.
I listened with rapt attention.
“But I gave the orders, and factions of Guardians closed around the royals. Before the behemoths could react, our soldiers were upon them.”
I could imagine it in all its detail. It was Calina’s vision that had come to pass.
“Two or three Guardians at a time attacked each royal,” Simpson said. “It took that many of us to carve them up and behead them.” He took a breath. “My men were bleeding, too, yet fighting at their best.”
I knew what Simpson was going to say before he said it.
“The gory battle raged on. There were so many royals that there were nearly too many to kill.” Simpson looked at me. “Yet we fought valiantly, unrelenting, until…”
I held my breath.
“The royals began to retreat,” Simpson said. “I couldn’t believe my eyes. Our army had intimidated Alban’s monsters and driven them back.”
“Then you returned to the castle?” I said.
“The Royal Army had withdrawn,” Simpson said. “There was no reason to pursue them. We’d expended so much energy that I ordered my troops to return.”
I imagined the scene: monster vampire bodies littering the ground, their blood seeping into the dirt. The mounds of severed heads indicated heavy losses for the royals.
“You are to be commended,” I said. “Your victory is noted.”
“It was quite the sight,” Simpson said. “It was three Guardians to every royal soldier. They are more like tanks than men. Alban’s vampires are gargantuan, so they weigh too much to be easily bested.”
“Yes, what you say is true.” I turned toward General Clay. “The Royal Army can be conquered. It would appear that the key is having a massive enough army, since it takes so many soldiers to defeat them.”
“That is a fact,” Clay said. “It is to our credit that the royals turned and ran. Yet…”
“My thoughts exactly,” I said. “Alban will be incensed. He will retaliate, stronger than ever. Our best defense is going to be in the size of our army. We must outnumber them, at least two to one—three to one, if possible.”
Encouraged by the report of the battle, I strode to the castle to find Calina. My morale had resurged on the heels of the loss against the Dark Fighters. I found new confidence in the news about the royals. I hadn’t shared that I’d known more about the outcome.
I was anxious to tell Calina that her vision had come to pass. I assumed that the second part had also transpired, that Alban had executed his own soldiers for daring to retreat. That was an advantage for my group.
Yet I wasn’t deluded. The rage that caused Alban to kill his own men would be unleashed on us. His next attack would be fiercer and deadlier. We’d need to be ready. The king would ruthlessly retaliate.
I was in for another surprise. Calina was not in the usual places, so I asked the house steward where she was. “In her room.” That was odd for the middle of the day. And where was Mirela? I levitated upstairs, concerned about what I might find.
When I knocked, Mirela opened the door then gave me a quick hug. “I’m so glad you’re here. I’m uncertain how to handle this.”
Calina was reclined on the bed, and she looked like a ghost of her former self.
“I was just about to send for the medics,” Mirela said.
I sat on the bed and took my sister’s hand. “What happened?”
“I’m not sure.” Mirela stood next to me. “She told me that she had something to attend to, but when she didn’t return, I sought her out.”
“Was she like this when you arrived?”
“Worse,” Mirela said. “I thought she was dead.” She took a breath. “I put a cool towel on her forehead to try and revive her. Since her pulse was strong, I thought maybe she just fainted.”
“That’s doubtful,” I said. “I haven’t known of a vampire fainting. She looks…different.”
“I tried to talk to her, but she wasn’t responding.” Mirela put her hand on my shoulder. “What should we do? Do you want me to get the doctor?”
I hadn’t seen my sister in such a state before, so it puzzled me. I was about to agree that she needed the doctor when she stirred. “Calina…”
My sister stared at me, but she didn’t speak. Her skin was chalky and her lips pale. I looked into her blue eyes but encountered a vacant gaze.
I squeezed Calina’s hand. “I’m here with you now. Can you talk?”
At first, Calina didn’t move; she didn’t even blink. I feared that she’d been hypnotized, yet had no idea how that had happened. She appeared catatonic, except that her eyes were open.
Then I felt her hand move. I squeezed it reassuringly. “Calina, what do you need?”
Her breathing had been shallow, then she gasped and took in a deep breath. It was like oxygen had been pumped into her lungs, all at once. She took more breaths, then looked at me. “That was…terrifying.”
My heart soared; she was speaking. “What, Calina? Tell me what happened.”
“I need water.”
Mirela rushed to the table and poured a glass of water. I helped Calina sit up against the pillows, then waited while she drank. When she handed the empty glass back, our gazes locked. I had the most horrendous feeling.
“Alban?”
Calina nodded. “I thought it would work. I had to try.” She paused. “My vision…it came true, didn’t it?”
I nodded. “But what does that have to do with your condition?”
“I sensed that it had come to pass, so I rushed up here to try something,” Calina said. “It occurred to me that if Alban could force the connection between us, then so could I.”
“Oh no,” Mirela said.
“I discovered that, when Alban is in a distressed state, I can force the connection between us.
He has done it before,” Calina said. “I wanted to make a show of strength, to demonstrate that I was in control.”
I was stunned.
“Alban was enraged. He’d ordered the executions,” Calina said. “Then he perceived my connection. I mocked him, told him he would lose the war. His soldiers had fled from us…wasn’t that evidence enough?”
“Did Alban respond?” I said, fearing the answer.
“I… It was awful,” Calina said. “The insult fueled his hatred, and he struck out at me. The energy that came through the connection was so charged that it nearly destroyed me.”
I could imagine Alban’s state of mind when Calina had taunted him, right after his army had betrayed him.
“Alban is unhinged,” I said. “What did you hope to achieve?”
“He was at a weakened point, so I wanted to hit him where it hurt…his ego,” Calina said. “I’m determined to do what I can to ensure our victory.”
“It was too dangerous,” I said.
“It was worth it.” Calina’s lips stretched into a tiny smile. “I had the satisfaction of digging the knife in deeper after he’d suffered betrayal from his own. His reaction was worth it. He won’t admit it, but I know that I got to him.”
I shook my head. “Please, you mustn’t do that again. I cannot lose you in this war.” I looked into my sister’s eyes. “Alban is doomed; I promise you. But you can’t risk yourself like that again.”
Calina nodded. “But it’s good to know that forcing the connection works two ways.”
“Take care of her,” I said to Mirela. “She needs a chance to recover. I’ll go deal with military affairs.” I bent down and kissed my sister’s forehead. “I don’t want you thinking that you can pull that trick again…but I would have liked to see Alban when you rubbed his face in defeat.”
I left my sister with Mirela, but I was worried. It was important to her that the Guardians win, just as it was to me. Yet I feared that she might take too great a risk, since she was personally vulnerable to Alban. I preferred to keep the confrontations within the parameters of battle, where the odds were more in my favor.
