Tales of the Scarlet Knight Collection: The Call

by P. T. Dilloway

  “We’re going to have fun with you, little girl,” the man I punched in the crotch says.

  “I doubt you will. You’re probably still sore from this afternoon.”

  The ones with the guns aim these at me. I laugh in defiance at this. “Those toys aren’t going to do anything to me. You boys go home before you get hurt.”

  I duck just as they fire their rifles. The shots go overhead, doing nothing more than spooking the horses. I’m already lunging forward, throwing the pitchfork at the ringleader. The pitchfork catches him in the leg, which isn’t where I aimed it, but good enough. While he’s screaming, I’m already throwing one of his buddies over my shoulder.

  On another day, especially in my prime, I could have subdued all six easily enough. Today I’m too young and too slowed by drink for that. I get four of them down when one of the men with rifles brings the stock of it down on my head. I pitch forward on the ground, where they take turns hitting and kicking me. I taste blood in my mouth and hear ribs snap, but I don’t give them the satisfaction of screaming.

  Once they think they’ve beaten me into submission, one of them turns me over onto my back. They gather around me and I can see from their predatory gazes that they plan to rape me, probably a number of times. “Please don’t,” I whimper. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s too late for that, girl,” the ringleader says.

  It’s the last thing he ever says—at least as a human. I mutter a few words and he becomes a pile of clothes on the ground, from which hops out a toad. His comrades stare at this for a moment in disbelief. This gives me enough time to get unsteadily to my feet. “Who wants to be next?” I ask.

  One of the men with the rifles has reloaded and tries to shoot it at me. Before he can pull the trigger, the rifle becomes a snake that bites him on the arm, like the bandit in Scotland. I use a Static Charge spell to send two others flying. The other two are already galloping away, screaming, “A witch! She’s a witch!”

  While the townspeople were perfectly content to let me be beaten and raped, they can’t abide a witch in their midst. I haven’t reached the edge of town when I see the mob coming after me. They’re armed with torches, pitchforks, and whatever else they can find on short notice. This is probably what Sophie faced in Salem, except she couldn’t use her magic thanks to Glenda.

  I can’t use my magic either. I’m too tired and sore and young; I’ve used up my magic to take down the thugs. There’s nothing I can do then but run away. The problem with that is my broken ribs make each step feel as if someone’s stabbing me in the chest. So long as these people are serious about lynching me—and I’m sure they are—I don’t have any hope to escape.

  That is until escape appears in front of me. I almost run into Glenda as I watch the mob gaining on me. She grabs me with one hand, drawing me close to her. “Hang on, child,” she says and then we vanish.

  ***

  I wake up in my house in Edinburgh, in my own bed. It’s dusty, prompting me to sneeze. When I do, I don’t feel any pain in my ribs. Rubbing my face I still feel the crusty pimples there, so at least Glenda hasn’t turned me into a baby yet. She’s probably saving that for after I wake up and she can take me to the archives.

  She somehow senses that I’m awake, opening the door about thirty seconds later. She throws one of my old dresses to me and says, “Get dressed. We’re going out to get a drink.”

  I groan, a drink being the last thing I want at this point. Though I’ve probably been asleep for a day or two while the Restoration potion worked, my head still aches as if from a hangover. That’s probably Glenda’s work, to remind me of the dangers of excess drinking, especially for a novice.

  They still have my table reserved at the tavern. “I’m Sylvia’s niece,” I tell the bartender. “Auntie said I could use her table.”

  The bartender shrugs and motions for Glenda and I to sit down. She waits until she has two glasses of whiskey in front of her and I have a glass of water in front of me before she gets down to business. “You realize I could put you up on trial for that, don’t you?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, looking down at the table like a scolded child.

  “What did you think you were doing?”

  “They started it.”

  She sighs and shakes her head. “I thought you knew better than that.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Maybe I should put you on trial. You and your sister.”

  “Aggie? What did she do?”

  “You mean besides marrying a mortal and giving birth to his child? Not to mention inappropriately using a potion on her own sister?”

  “A child?”

  “A son. His name’s Mathieu. Sweet little thing.” Glenda shakes her head, realizing that she’s supposed to be scolding me. “Just because you look like a teenager doesn’t mean you should act like one. You know better.”

  “I’m sorry,” I say again.

  “If I hadn’t found you when I did, you’d be as dead as Sophie right now. Do you realize that? Do you realize what that would do to your sister?”

  “I don’t know. Has she noticed I’m gone?”

  “Of course she did. Agnes cried herself silly for two weeks. Serves her right for what she did to you, as far as I’m concerned.”

  “She seems to have gotten over it.”

  “Every time I visit her, the first words out of her mouth are if I’ve seen you. She wants you to come home.”

  “I don’t want to come home.”

  She nods at this. “It’s that mortal, isn’t it? You love him too.”

  “No,” I say too quickly.

  “Please, child, I can see it in your eyes.”

  I begin to cry, setting my head on the table while I sob. Glenda pats my back, saying nothing to me. I finally raise my head to wail, “What do I do?”

  “If you want my advice, I think you need to find yourself a real job. Not scooping up horseshit or cleaning dishes either. The job you were trained for.”

  “You want me to work for you again? Run around killing demons?”

  “After a fashion.” She returns to her seat and I look up at her, wiping the tears from my eyes, my moment of weakness over. “There’s this tiny country near where you just were. A little place called Transylvania. Vampires have been running wild there, whole nests of them sucking the life out of anything that moves.”

  “Can’t Hisae or one of the others deal with it?”

  “Of course they could, but I think this would be a good way for you to get your feet wet.”

  “What if I don’t want to do it?”

  Glenda shrugs. “In that case, you and Mathieu can share a crib.”

  The implication here is obvious: serve Glenda and the coven or they’ll put me on “trial” and do to me what they did to Morgana. “You’re blackmailing me?”

  “If I have to.” She reaches out to take my hand, giving it a maternal squeeze. “I know this has been hard on you, Sylvia. Losing your mother and sister and now this whole business with Agnes. You’ve become lost. You need some direction in your life. You need to find a purpose.”

  “Killing monsters? That’s a purpose?”

  “For you, yes. You’re a warrior, Sylvia. It’s in your blood. There’s no point denying it by trying to be a lady or a milkmaid or any other silly thing. Become who you were meant to be again.”

  “Or else—right?”

  Glenda sighs. “I promised your mother I’d look after you if anything happened to her. If you won’t try to save yourself, then I’ll do it for you.”

  I look down at the table. I don’t really want to go back to work for the coven, but what choice is there? Wandering around as I’ve been doing for almost five years now? Go back into the arms business? As happy as I was milking cows, I know I can’t go back to that either.

  I’m a witch—a witch who specializes in offensive magic. This is what I’m meant to do. “All right,” I say. “I’ll go.”

  Chapter 24

  Th
ere are a lot of myths about vampires. People say that they can turn into bats, bugs, rats, or even mist. They’re afraid of garlic, crucifixes, and holy water. They have superhuman strength and speed. They can bend people to their will. And of course that they’re young, handsome, and charming.

  I find none of these to be true when I begin destroying vampire colonies in Transylvania. Vampires don’t turn into anything. They aren’t afraid of any spices or Christian paraphernalia. They only appear to have superhuman strength and speed when they’re backed into a corner and have to fight. They can bend people to their will, but only in the same way as any other mortal, through threats and bribes. And all of the vampires I meet are pale, emaciated, and generally hairless creatures.

  The best way to think of them is like opium addicts. They prefer to lie around in their lairs, sucking on a human victim. When they run out, they’re forced to get off their rears and find some fresh meat to feed their fix. The only story about vampires that is true is that they can’t go out into sunlight. It’s not that they’ll turn into ash; they just spend so much time in the dark that they become like moles.

  I find that killing a vampire is pretty straightforward and not much different than killing a Class-4 demon. You could try putting a stake through the heart and cutting off the head, but I find it simpler to shoot them with a silver-tipped crossbow bolt and disintegrate them with an Ashes to Ashes spell. There’s no truth to the story that a vampire can rise again if you sprinkle blood on the ashes.

  Hisae goes with me on my first vampire hunt. She’s been through this a number of times over the years. She looks the same as the last time I saw her, which isn’t a surprise given her line of work. She gives me a hug and then a smile. “You’re so young,” she says. I touch my acne-marred cheek, but she shakes her head. “You’re so young inside.”

  “I’m the same as I always was.”

  “Perhaps so. That might explain your unhappiness. You have a young heart.”

  “What am I supposed to do?”

  “That I do not know.” Hisae shakes her head. “It was a mistake for Glenda to put the three of you together. It’s hindered your growth, kept you from maturing properly.”

  “So you think Glenda should turn Aggie and I back into babies?”

  “No. Eventually you’ll find your way. The road will just be more difficult.”

  I look down at my feet, feeling suddenly shy and small. “How do you keep from forming attachments to mortals?”

  “I give myself to the coven—to my sisters.”

  “Oh.” I look up at her, trying to smile. “Let’s kill some vampires, then.”

  She vanishes me to Transylvania, outside a village that doesn’t look much different than the Romanian one I left behind. We walk into town to find it all but deserted. Those people who do remain stay behind locked doors and windows. Despite that vampires aren’t super strong and can’t turn into mist, they can still open doors and windows by conventional means.

  “Where are they?” I ask.

  “Vampires hate the sunlight. So we must find somewhere underground.”

  I follow her, my crossbow in its sling for easy access. The crossbow is the same one I used to use; I only had to restring it after over a century of neglect. I feel strange walking around in my tunic, leggings, and jacket again with the crossbow in its sling and my pockets filled with charms. I feel as if I’m playing dress-up, trying on my mother’s clothes and pretending.

  Villages like this don’t have much in the way of basements or elaborate cellars, so we conduct our search outside of town. I stay close to Hisae, nightcrystal lenses allowing me to see her despite the darkness. We tramp through a forest, Hisae not making a sound while my every step seems to break a branch or crush a leaf.

  “You have forgotten much that I taught you,” she says.

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Do not apologize to me as if you’re a child. This is not a child’s work.”

  “I’m—right, I understand.”

  Being far more the expert than I am, Hisae finds the entrance to the lair. Only trained eyes could spot the rock sitting out of place along the side of a hill. Hisae taps the stone with one finger. “You see the moss on the side?”

  “Yes.”

  “That indicates the stone was moved here.”

  I nod and then help her in rolling the stone aside. The opening is narrow enough that we have to get down on our knees to crawl inside. We move in single file, our crossbows at the ready for when we run into the vampires.

  The tunnel widens into a cavern that reminds me of where Morgana was searching for the “birthplace of magic” in Scotland. The only mortal here is a dead girl about my age. A half-dozen vampires are hunched over her body, feasting on her. Hisae fires immediately, hitting one in the neck. I follow suit, my aim a bit rusty, so my shot goes through a vampire’s shoulder.

  They turn and hiss at us, but Hisae and I have already reloaded. It’s a slaughter, not one of the vampires laying a finger on either of us. Once we have them all on the ground, Hisae stands back, telling me to use the Ashes to Ashes spell. I say the words and the vampires—along with their victim—disintegrate.

  I’m surprised that I don’t feel sick after this. Perhaps my stomach remembers all those dead demons from years gone by. Or maybe my stomach just thinks justice was done. In any case I feel more tired than sick after this first battle. “Is it all right to thank you?”

  “Of course. Courtesy knows no age.”

  “Then thank you.”

  She puts a hand on my shoulder. “You will do well, young one. You have the blood of a warrior in your veins.”

  “That’s what Glenda said too.”

  “She’s right. There’s no changing who you are.”

  “What if immaturity is in my blood too?”

  “Then your life will continue to be filled with pain.”

  She leaves after that ominous prophecy, leaving me to sit there in the forest and ponder my future.

  ***

  The last nest takes me to the largest castle in Transylvania. It’s not much to look at in terms of European castles—I’ve seen a lot bigger ones in France and Scotland—but it’s where the cream of Transylvanian society comes to gather. It’s also where the vampires make their home.

  Gaining access takes a month of undercover work. I don one of my old peasant dresses and get a job in the kitchen as a scullery maid. This doesn’t require much of an adjustment for me, so I can fit in with ease.

  The harder part is getting away from the kitchen long enough to explore the castle. I know the vampires will be congregating down in the crypts, but I want to know the best route down there—and out of there should things go bad. I finally get lucky when one of the other women asks me to go down and fetch some potatoes from the cellar.

  With this as an excuse, I have free rein to roam around the lower levels of the castle. I go to the cellar first, finding the sack of potatoes. I carry this over my shoulder so if anyone asks I can say that I’m just a poor lost girl looking for the kitchen. Once I’ve established this alibi, I search for the entrance to the crypts.

  A stairway leads down to a heavy door that’s designed to keep the stink from reaching the rest of the castle. I want to pull open the door, but the time isn’t right. For one thing I don’t have my crossbow or my silver bolts with me. Instead I head back to the kitchen, absorbing a tongue lashing for being so slow with the potatoes.

  Returning to my tiny room that night, I go over my weapons. By my estimates there are at least thirty vampires in there. I should probably call Hisae to back me up, but then I tell myself that I’ve killed hundreds of vampires over the last five years. I’m not a nervous little seventeen-year-old anymore.

  I go to work the next day, working my usual shift so as not to arouse any suspicion. Not that the vampires would really care; the only thing they care about is having a fresh supply of blood. Still, it’s better not to take chances. That’s the first thing I learned after
I started to work on my own and nearly got my head smashed in by assuming a vampire was down when in reality he was merely grazed.

  After I leave the castle, I vanish back to my room, to change and strap on my weapons. Then I vanish back to the doors to the crypt. This time I open the doors, tying a handkerchief around my nose and mouth to keep out some of the smell. I still feel queasy as I step into the crypt with its centuries worth of rotting corpses.

  Making my way along the corridors, the only creatures I see are rats. These don’t pay me much attention as I continue deeper into the crypts. The stonework becomes less elaborate and more primitive the farther I go. Near the end the stone is gone entirely, so there’s only packed dirt around me. I’ve never been claustrophobic, but thinking of how far underground I am is enough to make me consider it.

  The vampires occupy the oldest chamber of the crypt. They’ve shoved the old bones into a corner, on top of which are fresher corpses. My estimate is short by ten. They’re split into three circles, each one feasting on a different body. One of these is one of my coworkers from the kitchen who supposedly had today off.

  I don’t waste time with any quips or attempts to reason with them. I open up with a Fireball spell. It’s not as effective as the Ashes to Ashes spell as a vampire with a full belly of blood can withstand bones right down to the bone. The spell does scatter them and throw them into confusion.

  While they’re roaring and hissing at each other, I leap into the fray with my crossbow. I put the bolt through a vampire’s chest and then kick another in the groin. Though they don’t have the urge for sex anymore, vampires are still sensitive in that area. With one hand I reload my crossbow and with the other I use a Static Charge spell to hurl a couple more vampires against the wall.

  The only way for a vampire to turn you into one of them is to bite your neck, which is why I wear a thick leather collar. This comes in handy when one of the vampires jumps on my back and tries to bite my neck. I use a Glow in the Dark spell to blind him and then turn to put a bolt through his midsection.