The Heart's Ashes

by A. M. Hudson

  “Well, I know everything’s well in the world according to Ara, baby, but we still have the problem of Arthur.”

  “What about it?”

  “He can’t know David’s alive.”

  “Why?”

  “Remember what I said about Drake and the prophecy?”

  “Uh—”

  “Drake’s weak. He won’t attack or come after you right now—it should give us time to get you strong and the throne. But if Drake finds out David’s alive, he’ll attack now. Arthur may be digging to see if David’s really dead, I mean, we have no idea what he’s up to, Ara.”

  “It could be nothing.” I leaned on the wall. “What if he genuinely wants to help?”

  “Yeah,” Mike scoffed, “And what? Jason genuinely tried to help you?” Mike studied my stiffening posture. “Yeah, thought you might feel that way. So—Arthur knowing about David? No. Got it?”

  “Okay,” I whispered.

  “Right. Now, come on, it’s still dark outside—you can get a few more hours’ sleep before the sun comes up.” He wrapped his arm over my shoulder and nudged me away from the wall.

  “Will you stay with me, Mike?” I snuggled into the heavy warmth of his arm. “I—I just don’t wanna be alone.”

  “Sure, kid.” He nodded. “Might get busted by Em, but—”

  “Oh. Really? Would she mind?”

  “Right now?” He shrugged. “After what you’ve been through, and what I went through worrying about you? I don’t care.”

  In the time it took for David and I to get married, be kidnapped and tortured, and come home again, the lake caught the scent of spring, and banished the ice to another year. I perched on the park bench, tucking my knees up to my chest, looking out from the place Jason and I first talked after he saved me from evil-candy-floss-lady at Karnivale.

  The dreams I had, or the mind-links, kept playing in my head, showing me a side of my torturer that didn’t match what he’d done to me—a side I wished was real. In that world, I loved him and he loved me, and it was okay; it held no bearing out here in reality, where I loved David. And that was the worst thing about it, because, while my actions, my betrayal to David seemed separate from life, like falling in love with characters in a book, the heartbreak for Jason’s betrayal, for loving me then torturing me, was something that did extend out here. And it hurt more than the torture.

  The sun thawed my face, golden and warm, like sitting in front of a fireplace. With my eyes closed, I revelled in the sensation of open air—freedom, sunshine, colour; things I never thought I’d see again.

  “Amara?” A tall man walked toward me slowly, his dark suit outlined by the glow of the sun.

  “Arthur?” I stood up to greet him. The short white beard and kind, crinkled eyes I’d always imagined David’s uncle to have blurred, showing the truth of a young man, no older than thirty, standing before me with eyes like my husband, but blue as the sky, and a smile so similar I caught my breath.

  “My dear, sweet, Amara.” He smiled warmly, cupping my hand then kissing it.

  I remembered him then—not just his voice, but his face—the one who studied me carefully at my hearing; the one who sat at the right hand of Drake.

  I pulled my hand away.

  “I understand your aversion to me,” he said softly, lowering his arms. “After all, you couldn’t know how I fought for you, both before and after you were captured.”

  “It wouldn’t change things, even if I did.”

  He bowed his head.

  “And, what do you mean by before? Did Jason tell you about me?”

  “Please—” he offered the park bench, “—sit with me.”

  I obliged.

  “You see,” Arthur continued, resting his ankle on his knee, “when David went to the Blood Rave a few months ago, he set off a chain of events that resulted in the Council learning of your existence—”

  “Because of a Blood Rave? We were sent to our deaths because of a Blood Rave?”

  “But you’re still alive.” Arthur smiled. “Much to my supreme joy.”

  “Didn’t know you cared.”

  “But I do, all the same. I cannot convey to you the immeasurable grief of losing my sons.” He lowered his gaze to the grass. “However, I truly am happy to see you, Amara.”

  “But you sat there, in the council chamber, and watched your nephew beat me. How can you be so two-faced?”

  He nodded. “If it is any consolation at all, I refused to drink your blood there—not even for the sake of pretending to want you dead. I could not bring myself to harm you.”

  “But you let them do it.” I thrust a balled fist onto the bench. “Why would you do that if you wanted to help me?”

  “What matters is that I’m helping you now,” he said and took my hand.

  I just wanted to hit him and run away. My fingers itched to move from his. “Why? Why are you helping?”

  “Many reasons; one of them being a promise I made to my son, to always watch over you if ever he was taken away.” His mouth tightened, his eyes going dark. “Of course, when I swore this, neither he nor I foresaw the possibility of death. But I assume David would still wish me to protect you.”

  “Don’t say his name.” My eyes watered thinking of the way Jason threw him onto the fire—like he was nothing, and worse still, he was alive, felt everything.

  “His mention troubles you greatly. I can see that.” Arthur touched my cheek; his cold, stiff fingers shocked my warm skin, sending a tingle of shivers down my spine. “But, for the purpose of our chat, my dear, I must mention him occasionally. May I ask your blessing for that?”

  I turned my face away. “Fine.”

  “I understand the Lilithian head of security, Mike, has plans to leave for Loslilian in a few days.”

  “I—” I frowned. “Head of security?”

  “Were you not made aware?”

  I shook my head.

  “He leaves in two days to start training the new army.”

  “Army?”

  Arthur held back a smile. “Yes. The Lilithian Knights. An elite team of vampire hunters; skilled, with the ability to paralyse in one bite. Of course, I assume—” he nodded toward me, “—with your bite, you will create more like Mike.”

  “Like Mike?”

  “Yes. Those bitten directly by a pure blood also have the ability to end vampires’ lives.” He looked at me, holding a gaze infused with either anger or confusion, or maybe something else. “Tell me they at least educated you on this much.”

  “Oh, yeah, they did. Um—but, I don’t know about turning an army. No one even mentioned an army, or security or...” My shoulders dropped. “Or Mike leaving.”

  “You see?” Arthur grinned warmly. “You need me. I will be a great ally.”

  “We’ll see.” My eyes rolled, but a smile crept up.

  “You have no reason to trust me, my dear, not after everything you’ve been through, and I do not expect your trust.” He lifted my chin and turned my face to look at him. “If it’s all the same, though, I will help you win this fight, overrun the Council and take your rightful place as queen of the Three Worlds. I do not need you to trust me in order to do that.”

  “Good, because I don’t trust you,” I said coldly.

  Arthur nodded softly, pressing his lips together. “I hope, in time, that will change. But, I know my honour and I am a man of my word. I want only to help you rid the world of Drake and take back the throne.”

  “Why does it have to be me? I mean, seriously, I’m nineteen years old. I can’t be a queen.”

  “It is your birth right, Princess,” Arthur said assertively. “A position taken from Drake, originally, and given to Lilith by her father—the first vampire.”

  “Why her? Why my bloodline?”

  “Because Drake is blood-thirsty, unkind creature. Power was never intended to fall back to his hands, but he took it, stole it from Lilith when he discovered she could be killed. Our existence began as a race of being
s that supported human life, not destroyed it.”

  “Is that what Drake does—destroys life?”

  “Not so much these days. There were many centuries where he believed humans should be farmed, stored in lots to use for our own nourishment. He did not care for discretion, or for life. It took a curse to show him the error of his ways, but when he fell in love with a Pagan named Anandene, his rule became tyrannic again, and Vampirie was forced to step in.”

  “So, Vampirie wasn’t like Drake.”

  Arthur laughed. “Not at all. Before Drake was born, vampires lived in peace among the humans—a utopia we, who are true to the original vampire, wish to restore.”

  “You said we. Who is we?”

  “Those who have broken free of the Set; the Rebellion.”

  “So, you’re not with the Set now?”

  “For now, I am. I will remain so until you take over, Majesty. Unfortunately, I am sworn in, bound to do all bidding which benefits my people, but I must also maintain my cover in order to help you rise up slowly beneath Drake until you’re powerful enough to take over.”

  “Why would you do that? If you’re bound to do what’s best for your people, how is a Lilithian take-over beneficial?”

  “I believe a world without Drake will bring peace.” He touched a tight fist to his chest. “I am faithful to the old ways and wish to see balance restored. And it is only by the power of the prophesied that it will ever come to par.”

  “Prophesised? This is all too big, Arthur—the first vampire, Drake, ruling the Lilithian Order—how do I do that?”

  “It is your destiny.” He squeezed my hand, his blue eyes smiling.

  “Why? I mean, why can’t the first vampire just come back and take over—where is he anyway?”

  “No one knows. We’ve not seen him for many years—sometime around the late fourteenth century.” Arthur turned to face me. “Amara, you must do this. For the Lilithians, for the humans—for vampires—” he paused for a breath, “for David.”

  “I can’t. I don’t know how. Arthur, I can barely find the will to live anymore.”

  He gasped. “Amara, do not say such things. It pains me to hear you speak that way. So many have fought and died for your survival—your mere existence is a miracle.”

  “But my existence is nothing, Arthur, not without David. It’s nothing.” I let tears stream freely for him to see.

  The gentle, familiar eyes of David’s uncle traced my cheeks, softening as they came back to meet my gaze. “Such a sweet thing,” he said and stroked a thumb across my tears.

  I rolled my face into his touch, so automatic, because it was so like David’s in every aspect that it seemed only natural to accept him.

  Seeing my guard drop suddenly, he moved in and wrapped me in his arms. “Shh, my sweet girl. Please don’t cry.” And with every tingle of his fingers over my hair, I could see so clearly where David formed many aspects of his personality.

  But it was too much; his arms, his chest, the scent; “You feel like him,” I noted, drawing back, looking at his chest. “And you smell like him.”

  “Well, we were related.” Arthur smiled, looking just as cheeky and sweet as David.

  “I just—it makes me miss him more.”

  “Oh, Amara. He was right to fight so hard for you. You are something very special—blood-line aside.” He laughed, shaking his head. “I suddenly find myself in complete understanding why both my sons felt such a great deal for you.”

  Both of them? My breath stopped and I turned away instantly, covering my arms as little bumps rose up—consuming the softness of my skin. “Jason felt nothing for me.”

  “I hope you don’t truly believe that.”

  “Why?”

  He exhaled. “You may never understand this, Amara, but what Jason did to you was far less than a council member would have, had they been examining you. It must have killed him inside to hurt you that way.” Arthur looked over the lake, his eyes lost to thought.

  “I don’t care what he felt. There’s no words—”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.” He looked back at me. “But I loved him, and despite the monster he had to be, I see him still for the boy he once was.”

  “I find it hard to believe he was ever a boy—ever an entity of innocence.”

  “And despite that, he was good. What he has done to you, to your life, Princess, is nothing in comparison to what he has suffered. But—” he paused, regaining composure, “I expect he is at peace now.”

  “I hope not. I hope he’s rotting in hell,” I said through gritted teeth. “He threw David on the fire. He picked him up and tossed him away, like he was nothing!” I covered my mouth, restraining my fury; oh my God, I just yelled at a high councilman—David’s uncle, nonetheless.

  Arthur rested a fist against his lips for a second. “He had no choice. He had to be the one—that hurt you. He was compelled to love you, but forced to destroy you. It was his blood oath, Amara.” He reminded me of David then; scary when he got heated about something. “He couldn’t walk away—he had to play a role. Can you understand that?”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know what a blood oath is, Arthur, and I don’t care. All I know is—”

  “Wait?” He sat at the edge of the seat. “You don’t know what a blood oath is?”

  “No. What does it matter?”

  “It is everything, Amara, my dear—it is the reason for all of this.”

  “Okay. I’m listening,” I said, internally rolling my eyes.

  “A blood oath is the promise, sworn in your own blood, on the stone of truth, that you will uphold your word—follow any bidding of the entity of which you have sworn to. Jason’s oath was bound to the ruler of the throne; the command iron clad—no way around it.”

  “Why would he take an oath to do whatever someone orders him to? That’s crazy.”

  “Yes, but it was a means to an end. He took the oath when he joined the Blood Warriors about two years ago. You may have seen—” Arthur looked down at his arm and made a circle-like motion with his finger, “—a mark, a band around his arm?”

  “That’s what that was?” My mind flicked to the memory of Jason by the lake—his tattoo.

  “You saw it then?”

  “Yes, but he wouldn’t tell me what it was.”

  Arthur’s lips closed into a thin smile. “He wanted to change the vampire-human relations law, but needed a position on the council. The only way in at that time was to start at the bottom—swear an oath, join the Warriors then work his way up.” Arthur took my hand again. “Amara, when you swear an oath in blood, you are physically bound to act on your word. He had no choice but to hurt you; he knew if he was in control of your torture, it would not be so brutal as if it were another warrior or a council member.”

  “I don’t understand—are you saying he didn’t want to hurt me?”

  “You didn’t know that?” he asked, astonished. “Do you not know the things he could have done to you?”

  “No. I don’t. All I know is he had a list and he—”

  “He didn’t complete the list, girl.”

  I recoiled internally at his raised voice.

  “He could have had the entire list finished within your first few days. I—” It was amazing to watch him become suddenly so uncomfortable, like Dad when he bought me my first bra. “I read what was expected; you have no idea how lucky you are that he didn’t progress even one task further.”

  The memory of the dark, wet walls, and the itch all over my skin crept back in. “Really?”

  “I assume you saw the tools—on the table?”

  I nodded.

  “Well, then, perhaps you can understand.”

  “No.” I shook my head, bursting into tears. “If that was true, if he really cared all along, why did he make me kill David?”

  “Oh, Amara.” Arthur wrapped his hand over the side of my face and swept me against the curve of his neck. “David had to die. There was no way around that—but it
was a merciful death, at least, by your lips.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “If Jason loved me, he would’ve known how that would kill me inside.”

  “He had no choice, Amara. The only power he had in all of this was to erase it from your mind after—make you forget.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You don’t have to; I don’t expect you to.” He sat me up from his embrace. “But just know—Jason only hurt you because if it had been another, it would have been worse. He couldn’t save you, he didn’t have the physicality. He literally—” Arthur moved his head to emphasize his word, “—cannot disobey a blood oath. He tried to escape with you, but the king got to him—called him, ordered him to return.”

  “No. That’s crap. Jason planned all along to turn me in. He told me. He said the masquerade was just a test—to see if I’d die.”

  Arthur covered his mouth and coughed out a laugh. “I’m sorry, I should not laugh, it’s just—the memory.” He laughed again and stifled it quickly.

  “What memory is it you find so amusing?” I swallowed a lump of humiliation.

  “Not that you were hurt, my dear, only the look on my son’s face when he came to me after that ball, covered in blood—your blood—regret and horror his own mask.”

  “Regret?”

  “Yes. I will never forget the look in his eye. I embraced him, and when he told me what happened, it was I who noted what you are—not Jason.” Arthur looked down. “From that moment on, your life was in danger. Jason spent this last year fighting to keep you a secret—redirecting the Blood Warriors’ advances on you and David.”

  “But, he told me, when he kidnapped me, that he only befriended me to study me, biding his time until David returned, so he could have him killed.”

  Arthur smiled again. “If he told you the truth then, the Council would’ve known he planned to keep you a secret. He would have been arrested and tried along with you and David, and your torture would have been executed by who knows what kind of monster.”

  With my mouth wide, I traced the corner of my eye where Jason cut me, remembering the heat of the torch.

  “Do you understand?” Arthur pulled my hand gently away from my eye and stared right into them; “To save his own life, only for the purpose of carrying out your torture if his plan to take you away failed, he told them he was investigating you—that he had been unclear up until now.”