The Vampire Gift 5: Whispers of Evil

by E. M. Knight

  “When did you get this blood?” Raul asks. Of the three of us, he seems the least tempted.

  His mother winks. “You should know better than most of the hidden nooks and crannies of these rooms. Do you think I would have nothing saved for an emergency?”

  Phillip’s composure suddenly breaks. He rushes over and grabs the first goblet and swallows it whole. His eyes take on a maniacal greed. He tosses the first aside and goes for the second. He has it at his lips in a flash. He starts to drink—

  Halfway through he seems to realize what he’s doing. The cup drops from his hand. Blood spills all over the floor.

  He backs away, eyes wide with horror. “I’m sorry,” he says hoarsely. “I… could not…”

  The Queen laughs and floats over to her son. “You’ve done nothing wrong,” she says. She scoops up the dropped goblet and hands it to him. “There is still some left. Drink up.”

  With shaking hands, he takes it from her. “What about…” his voice is hoarse. “What about…”

  “There’s plenty left for Eleira and Raul,” Morgan assures him. “I do not want my youngest to suffer from excessive thirst.”

  Phillip nods, somehow relieved by the assurance, and drinks the remainder of the second cup.

  Then he takes the third, and drains that one, too.

  I share a look with Raul. There is no poker face this time. He is regarding his brother with open concern.

  “Good,” the Queen murmurs. “I wanted you to grow strong.”

  The magical energies continue their haphazard dance through the air. They are not visible to me, not unless I try channeling them, but I still feel the discomfort contained in their presence. There is no orb around Morgan, not like when she cast the spell in the pits, but it’s almost like those energies have a sense of the potential of disruption seething from her.

  It is not a welcome feeling.

  “Other vampires are starving,” Raul says, no lack of anger in his voice. “And here you are, encouraging Phillip?” he growls. “If I didn’t know any better—”

  “Oh, don’t be so hypocritical,” Morgan snaps. “You would be just as eager to feed, if it weren’t for Eleira watching.”

  I shift a little on my feet.

  “Like I said,” Morgan continues. “I have more. And no longer shall The Haven’s vampires be starved for blood. Blood is our lifeline. The villagers are the source. The Royal Court has shown their incompetence in my absence. So it’s time to take back control. I am staging the next Hunt. Felix is in agreement. I will not be persuaded otherwise. It is the only way to win back the rebels. Their discord has not gone on for so long that it cannot be forgiven. And above all, my son, we need to unify. Because, after what transpired in the Paths…”

  She trails off, but I jump on the comment. “What happened in the Paths?” I ask. “I think you owe all of us an explanation. Phillip and Raul have my account—” I think back to that horrible, enormous creature trying to break free from the portal in the wall, and the Narwhark attacking it, “—but we all deserve a glimpse into yours.”

  Morgan chuckles, amused. “My, but you’ve developed quite the fondness for command, haven’t you?” she asks. She gives a predatory grin. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from the vampire expected to inherit my throne.”

  She walks over to her vanity counter and looks at herself for a few seconds in the mirror. She touches her face and sighs. “You would like to know everything that happened, wouldn’t you? I’m afraid I can only tell you parts.”

  “Why?” Raul steps forward. “What are you trying to shield from us, Mother? We are all on the same side—and you don’t even know what we saw at The Crypts!”

  “Well I’m sure you’ll tell me,” she says, no small amount of derision in her voice. “But forgive me for not wanting to spill all my secrets, given the circumstances of how I was brought back.”

  “How did you get back?” I wonder. “After the Narwhark attack, we had no idea if you would recover.”

  “That’s because you still know very little about magic, girl,” Morgan sneers. “There are many sides to the force. One of which, one that I had previously neglected, perhaps for fear of what it could do, perhaps for other reasons, proved vital in my return. But now it’s my time to ask you certain questions, children. The most important of which: how did you become so negligent as to let me be abducted in the first place?”

  Phillip clears his throat. For a moment, he looks every bit the youngest son trying to justify his actions to his mother.

  “It was a coordinated effort,” he says. “Between Deanna and Carter. I was so focused on protecting the Stronghold from an outside attack that I took certain… liberties… with your safety. I apologize. The blame falls on me.”

  I stare at him in disbelief. “You were ambushed!” I exclaim. “How could you possibly be at fault? Nobody could have expected The Haven’s Royal Court to coordinate subversion.”

  Phillip grunts. “Actually,” he says, “we should have expected exactly that. In the Queen’s absence a void formed at the top. Previously, Smithson filled it. With his betrayal made public, the position was growing increasingly unsteady. Eleira, when you and Raul left, the opportunists seized their chance.” He turns to his Mother. “Deanna tricked me,” he admits. “She pressed on my weaknesses. But she also said something I will not forget. She said she did it for Bradley. What do you know of their relationship?”

  “Deanna had affairs with nearly all the male members of the Court,” Morgan says dismissively. “One in particular would not stand out in her mind.”

  “I beg to differ,” I say. “If she would risk so much, give up her entire position, hell, it must have come from a deeper emotion.”

  “What?” Morgan asks.

  I glance at Raul. “Love.”

  The Queen scoffs. “Deanna was no more capable of love than a housefly. Besides, what she did or why she did it matters not. She is dead. She will not be bothering us anymore.”

  “How do you know that?” Raul asks. “Did you see the body? Did you come across her somewhere in the Paths?”

  “I know,” Morgan says loftily, “because it was her spilled blood that actuated the portal to the underworld—and what let Cierra summon the second demon.”

  Chapter Seven

  Raul

  The Stronghold

  “Cierra?” I ask. “Who’s Cierra?”

  Mother gives a long, slow exhale. “Cierra,” she says, “is the dark witch who took possession of Eleira. She is the one whose burrow Eleira stumbled into as a little girl.”

  Eleira makes a shocked sound. “I haven’t told that to anyone,” she says.

  Morgan gives a grim smile. “Did you think you were not being watched? Long before Raul gave you that torrial ring, we had our eyes set on you. And with the ring, even if your presence did become diminished to us, you could never escape the folds of destiny as they encased themselves around you. Wherever you went, dear girl, you left ripples on the world. Those skilled in sensing them could easily sniff them out.”

  “Ripples?” Eleira breathes.

  “Exactly the same sort that you now feel around me,” Mother says. There is the barest hint of victory in her voice. “Surprised that I know of them? Don’t be. I’ve been on this earth for a very long time. I’ve made a point of expressing my vanity, but…” she gives a coy look, “…there is intelligence behind this pretty face of mine.”

  Eleira sniffs but doesn’t object. I listen to the whole exchange, fascinated.

  Every once in a while, I sneak a look at Phillip. His shifting demeanor has me concerned. He seems unstable. One minute he’s acting as Captain Commander, the next he is no better than a sniveling five-year-old boy.

  I wonder if Mother couldn’t have tainted the blood with some sort of serum. I certainly wouldn’t put such tricks past her.

  “Deanna’s blood was spilled in the Paths,” Mother continues. “The Paths are unique in that they lie closer to the demon realm th
an to our world. That is why they were reserved only for use to the most powerful of witches. Not for mere mortals. Simply going there is a danger in and of itself—though I doubt you recognized that before.

  “You saw the crystals making up the walls,” Morgan continues. “The same sort that were used to create my throne. Making new torrials is of course not as simple as carving out a chunk of rock from the sides and bringing it back. But the Paths in and of themselves provide a special conduit for magic. Its expression is enhanced there. Spells come easier. Those attuned to the energies can take hold of a whole lot more than they would otherwise be capable.”

  “I thought something like that,” Eleira murmurs.

  Mother nods, then keeps going. She looks at me when offering the next explanation. “Cierra had a link to the Narwhark, through Eleira. With both the demon and the girl in the Paths at the same time, the enhancement of magic made it significantly easier for the dark witch to exert her influence. But Eleira—since I taught you how to shield your mind, you have not weakened in that defense. Even Cierra could not penetrate it.

  “Yet she could—and did—channel her flow of magic through the Narwhark.

  “But that isn’t all. Cierra was always fascinated with the dead. She perfected the act of corrupting the flows of the ordinary Elemental Forces and transferring them into something more… sinister. More to her liking. More to do with the—

  “…dead,” Eleira finishes in a whisper. “Cierra exploited the Paths to channel magic through the Narwhark, didn’t she? But to do her tricks, she needed fresh blood.”

  Mother does not look happy at being interrupted. But she nods in a pre-emptory way, regardless. “That’s right,” she says. “Cierra needs a surrogate. With the Narwhark developing consciousness and fighting back against the control the dark witch exerts, and you shielded from her, she needed someone—something—fresh.

  “So she tried to summon another demon.” Eleira starts pacing the room, deep in thought. “But summoning a demon requires blood magic, doesn’t it?” she asks.

  Mother nods. “And to summon a demon the size that she tried? It required a lot of blood. Vampiric blood. All the blood contained within a body.”

  “That’s how you know Deanna is dead,” Eleira says. “Her spilled blood in the Paths gave Cierra the catalyst that she needed.”

  “Unfortunately, yes,” Morgan answers. “And I know it was Deanna’s, and not Carter’s, because I felt its flow though the inverted strands of magic Cierra was casting.”

  “How did you find us, though?” Eleira asks. “How did you come awake?”

  Mother shows her teeth. “The Narwhark,” she says simply, “does not want to be controlled by the Black Sorceress.”

  “So when it stabbed you,” I put in. “It didn’t try to kill you.”

  “No,” the Queen replies. “It wanted to link itself to me. Because it knew, I suspect, that I could help it resist Cierra’s influence. It rescued me from Carter and Deanna’s grasp. Although I have only pieced together bits and pieces of the actual event, based on the memory the demon implanted to me.”

  Phillip, having now seemingly regained a bit of his composure, steps to the forefront. “I don’t understand,” he says. “Is the Narwhark no longer a foe? Is it on our side, or is it still a threat?”

  “It attacked the second demon Cierra tried to summon,” Eleira says.

  “Yes, but I commanded it to do so,” Morgan says. She addresses my brother. “And for the question of loyalty… the demon has no side. It is not so intelligent a creature as that. All it knows, all it wants, is to be free of the link it has to Cierra… and then to do what it will upon the world. But the difference between its behavior before and the behavior we can expect in the future is that it has a link to me now. That makes all the difference. Unlike Eleira, I can actually tell where the Narwhark is and what it is doing.”

  Eleira makes a vampiric sound of displeasure in her throat.

  “Oh, it’s no fault of yours, dear girl. You are simply not experienced enough.”

  “The other demon was so much bigger,” Eleira says. “How was the Narwhark able to defeat it so easily?”

  Morgan almost laughs. “Nothing about the victory was easy, I can promise you that.”

  “You know what I mean,” Eleira grunts, exasperated. “The size difference was immense.”

  “The new demon that Cierra tried to summon was big, yes, but it was slow. She knows she made a mistake with the Narwhark. They are natural predators, in their world, and as such are highly intelligent. Cierra needs a demon easy to command, easy to control. One that will not fight against her the way the Narwhark does.”

  “So she brought forth a different kind,” I say. “Slow, dumb, yet strong?”

  “Yes. Except the one thing she did not count on was my being there,” Morgan says. “If she had managed to get the demon out, it would have started demolishing all the Paths. She would have them destroyed, so that they were impassable for any but her.”

  “Why?” Eleira asks. “Why would she do that? Who is she? What does she want?”

  Morgan looks at her sadly. She opens her mouth, about to say something… then changes her mind and looks away.

  A spark of curiosity lights in my mind. What is Morgan hiding?

  “Mother?” I press.

  “Cierra and I… we knew each other, once,” she admits. “Long ago. I will say no more.”

  The atmosphere in the room dips ominously.

  Phillips rouses firsts. “That’s all well and good,” he says. “But it doesn’t help us deal with the problems that were facing The Haven before. The wards are still down. We cannot go above ground, cannot leave the stronghold. We’re still under threat from The Crypts.”

  “Actually,” I say. “That’s not exactly true.”

  Quickly, I relate to Morgan the offer that Logan made. She considers it all in quiet contemplation.

  When I’m done, she looks at me, searching my eyes. “So, he wants me to come to him, after all these years?” she asks.

  Then she barks a laugh. “Ha! His arrogance has grown leaps and bounds if he expects I’ll obey. To come to him as nothing more than a sniveling dog… no.” She shakes her head. “No, it is nothing I will do. I will not degrade myself, nor the sanctity of The Haven, by giving in to him and begging for him to spare us.”

  She looks right at Eleira. “They might have greater numbers,” she says. “But we have the one prophesied to lead. And girl… it is far past time that you do.”

  Chapter Eight

  Eleira

  The Stronghold

  The next few hours pass in an absolute maelstrom of commotion.

  Once Morgan made her intentions clear there was no stopping her. She wants The Hunt to take place tonight. She wants the wards to be resurrected tonight. No more would there be talk of waiting for the next full moon for either of those things.

  Raul pulls me aside when Morgan goes to collect all The Haven’s vampires and announce her intentions. He seems particularly troubled.

  “Are you certain you’re up for this?” he asks. “I don’t know much about magic, but even I don’t think it’s safe. The full moon was of such importance before. Now, she’s just abandoning it? Why?”

  I shake my head. “I don’t know,” I admit. “But the Queen seemed certain it no longer matters.”

  “It has to do with her new powers, undoubtedly.”

  I nod and don’t say a word.

  “I don’t like it, Eleira. It’s putting you up to too much risk!”

  “The Queen has returned with a new sort of determination, hasn’t she?” I ask. “It makes you consider what actually happened to her in The Paths.”

  “Did you notice how she didn’t seem particularly surprised when you told her about Logan’s offer?”

  “It’s almost like she knew it was in the cards,” I say. “Almost like she was aware of it even before I said a word.”

  I press my lips together in thought. “R
aul?” I venture. “Something… happened to me, while we were in there. In the Paths. It may have happened to her, too.”

  “Yes?” he asks.

  “Right as the other demon was trying to climb out,” I say. “I saw a sort of… vision.”

  He doesn’t laugh. If anything, his face becomes more serious. “What sort of vision?”

  “I don’t know. A bad one. Of the future. A future,” I clarify. “Somehow, I think that’s the one the dark witch wants.”

  “What was it like?” Raul presses.

  I shudder in memory. “Horrible,” I answer. “Death and destruction everywhere. The Black Sorceress was in full control of the Narwhark. Except that it had taken on its full form. And it was a slave to her, and there was so much fire, so many screams, so much death…”

  I trail off. Even reliving the memory is frightening.

  “When did this happen?” Raul asks. “Right when the other demon came?”

  I nod.

  “I didn’t see anything.”

  “You can’t do magic.”

  “Right.”

  I look around. “What if Morgan glimpsed a version of the same thing? What if that’s the reason for her haste?”

  Raul grunts. “She’s right in that the sooner we get the wards up, the sooner we’ll be in a position to take a step back, think things through, and actually plan what we have to do next,” he says. “As is, right now, we’re so pressed for time. I didn’t know if you feel it, but it’s like a noose has wrapped around my neck.”

  He stops and looks me deep in the eyes. “I’m still most worried about you.”

  I bristle. “Raul, I can handle myself. We’ve gone over this.”

  He shakes his head. “You don’t know what you’ll have to handle. Neither of us do. The full moon was vital to the ceremony before. No one has any idea of what the succession is going to be like. But by not waiting for the right time, we are putting you at horrendous risk, and—”

  “Raul,” I say, trying not to lose my temper with him. “Relax. I can handle myself. And I mean, sure, I may not like the new forces Morgan is using—but they’re related to magic, and I’m comfortable with that. And besides, these are infinitely better than the alternative.”