by E. M. Knight
The only portion of her that resembles her former self in any way is her eyes. They are just as sharp, cruel, and vindictive as ever.
A tremendous blast of dark energy sears into my skin, and another scream is ripped from my throat. Somehow it’s able to slide past my usual vampire defenses. The typical pain tolerance is gone. I feel it as acutely as if I were still human.
Or maybe even worse.
Since I can’t die and I won’t pass out, I have no natural defense. Subject a human body to too much pain, and the mind shuts down.
No such luxury is available to me.
Add to that the fact that my amplified vampiric senses make every bit of pain so much more intense.
Lashes of the dark power rain down on me as the Queen laughs and laughs. Blood keeps running down from the Narwhark’s remains and staining her skin.
Suddenly, all of it cuts off. The laughter, the pain, all of it. For a moment, the air actually seems to thicken.
I blink—and realize that no, I can’t blink. Nothing’s actually been cut off.
Instead, time has slowed to a standstill.
It’s happening again.
I’m trapped, unable to move, but still able to think, just like the two or three times this has happened before.
A ripple washes through the thick air. I feel it as acutely as if it were my own heartbeat.
The scene before me is frozen in place. But my mind, once more, is operating on some higher frequency, on a different plane.
Is this the defense mechanism now afforded to my body?
The wild sensation of terror and pain that grips me needs to be pushed back. I cannot think if I am in the thralls of terror.
So, mustering all the willpower I am in possession of, I take that pain, that fear, and iron it into a tight small ball in the back of my mind. I feed all my fears, all my agonies into it and cast it far, far, far away.
So far away that it can no longer touch me.
Once that’s done, my eyes go to the Queen. She is oblivious to what’s happening. She’s stuck in place, trapped by the regular flow of time. Anything I do now will be imperceptible to her….
For better or for worse.
But whatever advantage I’ve been given by this respite does not translate into anything physical. I cannot move. I cannot affect the material world. I strain for a hint of the Elemental Forces and find them still blocked.
That’s interesting, at least, because it means the cause of this temporary ripple in reality is not reliant on Fire, Air, Water, or Earth.
Does that mean I’m in possession of some other power I am unaware of?
Something… some force, some inkling, some inclination… beckons me forward. I know logically that I cannot move. But the temptation to rise is oh-so-sweet.
It’s the only way forward.
So, not expecting anything, but desperate for a way out, I shift my focus to the parts of me I still have control over—my mind, my soul, my thoughts—and give a quick, sharp push.
To my amazement I feel myself—or some part of myself—float forward.
I panic and lose concentration and am immediately snapped back into my body.
But a sense of great discovery dawns on me.
I don’t know how much time I have. I don’t know when this ripple will end, the void will break, and I’ll be shot back into the regular flow of time.
So now I focus all my energies on harvesting this new-found power. Once more I concentrate, still my mind, and give a massive push.
My being rips away from my body. I glide into the ethereal consistency of this strange, new reality.
This is exactly what an out-of-body experience must feel like.
I—the real me, the metaphysical I, the one true consciousness that animates my being—slowly turn around and face the girl bound to the cavern wall.
My heart clenches when I see how bad the condition of my body is.
There are angry red welts where the lashes of power fell across my chest. My face is haggard, too, and caught in the midst of one of the blood-curdling screams.
But that’s not really me, is it? It’s the body I usually inhabit, yet no longer does it feel like my own. I am here, right now, in this strange and unexpected spirit form, whatever it is.
Again the sense of losing time comes over me. I cannot waver. I must do whatever it takes to help myself out of this situation.
But if the Elemental Forces are blocked from me, and I cannot affect any part of the material world, what else can I do?
And yet… I don’t know that I cannot affect the physical. It is just an assumption. Based on a prior knowledge, of course, but an assumption nonetheless.
First thing I need to do is test the hypothesis. I turn and face Morgan.
When I see her, an extraordinary current of rage surges through me.
Without further thought, I fling myself at her, wanting to kill…
And end up hurtling right through her.
A sense of abject failure takes me. If I can’t do that, there’s nothing that I can do.
This whole boon was nothing more than a great disappointment.
Before I can start to wallow in self-pity, I notice something I haven’t seen before.
There are four glowing, twisting cords running out of Morgan’s back. They slip away like snakes, trailing off into the depths of the darkness.
They were not visible before I entered this realm. That tells me they are a different part of reality.
The one I’m in now.
The cords glow and pulse with life. They actually move while everything else around me is still.
I glide closer to them. I reach out, though I can’t see my hands, and touch one of the cords, very slightly.
A great and sudden burst of light erupts from the cord. Momentarily, I’m blinded.
But then I see again. And I’m cast in a space in the middle of a beautiful web of thin, glowing threads, like spider silk.
Whoa.
The webbed lines intersect every part of the cavern. They run from the ceiling to the floor to the walls. All of them quiver with energy.
They’re also stretched tight. I feel that if I were to reach out—again, I don’t know with what, I have no appendages—and touch one, it would break and snap like the most fragile filament.
What is this place? How does it relate to the physical world? I feel like I’ve been plunged into the depths of the matrix.
I don’t know which way to go from here.
Floating, I turn around and consider the layout of the room. The very threads are not strewn about randomly. They are there in a beautiful pattern, as if part of some Great Design.
Except, I realize, in the area directly in front of the Queen.
Right where she’s holding the remaining piece of the Narwhark.
I float closer, somewhat slowed by caution. I twist around her so I am facing Morgan head-on.
Sure enough, none of the beautiful strands run through the space where the demon’s blood is. It’s not like they’ve been cut or severed—instead, they’ve all been repelled, like water by oil.
Once more, I turn my attention to the four glowing cords.
The one I touched has since calmed down. It is no longer so enflamed. I come nearer and realize that each of the cords has its own very faint color.
Just a hint, just a smidge. But I see the palest blue, a hint of red, the purest white, and an earthy brown.
Of course. The Elemental Forces!
Each of the cords must correspond to one. Blue for Water, white for Air, red for Fire, brown for Earth.
Is it possible that I am seeing the actual currents?
Or could this be something else?
My bet is on the latter. The currents cannot be contained by something so small.
Yet this must be some derivative of them.
Most likely, it is the source of the Queen’s dark power. The strange, twisted magic she inherited while in The Paths.
; A sense of excitement takes me. If I can sever their connection to her…
I don’t know how to try. When I simply touched one I caused that explosion.
Yet, the burst of light revealed this beautiful kaleidoscope to me.
I come even closer. I’m becoming more comfortable existing like this, without a solid body. It’s a lot like being in a dream. The sensations of myself are all there, it feels like I have arms and legs and a head and a torso, but when I look down to examine my body, it’s missing.
I focus on the connection between the cords and the Queen. It looks as if they’re simply fused into her body. I reach out, again, intent on feeling them myself, but a sudden sense of apprehension makes me stop.
It’s like an instinct that I am doing something wrong. And ever since becoming a vampire, I’ve learned to place my trust in the instincts flaring within me.
So I back off and instead focus the cords to the far wall.
There’s a strange cloud of darkness near their end. They disappear into it. My vision cannot pierce the black.
But the dark void very slowly pulses and rotates, almost as if…
Almost as if it’s a portal to another world!
Excitement shoots through me. Could it be? Could that be the source of the Queen’s power?
Immediately, I recall what I was told. The ancient witches worked together to seal the portals to other worlds. They wanted to destroy them but did not have the strength. So, they created objects of power that would mask a majority of the portals without truly bidding them away.
From there, the first torrials were born.
Devices meant to harvest magic. Devices that could direct the flow of weaves into pre-determined patterns and enhance any lone witch’s ability. Extremely complicated spells could be done by a weaker witch because she did not need to handle the complexity herself. The torrials would do it for her.
All she needed to do was direct the Elemental Forces at the object.
And yet, there were those witches who dissented. They protested against the closure of the portals, decrying it as a great loss. For if the links between worlds were truly eliminated, who could say what sort of knowledge would be lost?
And so, the dissenting ones created contra-torrials, used originally to actually summon demons out of the other worlds—because that was the easiest way to break each seal.
From the other side.
And Morgan. If I remember correctly, she was there in the midst of it all. So, of course, it makes sense that she knows it—that she’s taking advantage of it. She’s had centuries to weave her web.
Maybe that’s what I’m seeing now.
Unfortunately, I don’t know anything about these other worlds. Only that they exist. But if there’s magic here on our earth, and regular people are simply blind to it, would it really be so much of a stretch to assume that magic exists in the other worlds? In the realm of demons and their unbound, unfathomable power.
No. No, it’s not. Not at all.
And somehow, for some reason, I am now capable of seeing a different dimension of this world.
Honestly, it’s incredible if this… all of it… is simply a result of the circumstances of my birth.
I make a promise, right there and then, that if I actually get out of this situation with the Queen, I will do everything in my power to discover the true circumstances of how I came onto this earth.
But I’m jumping the gun. First, this potential portal…
I stretch toward it, toward the black, and when I do, a sudden suction exerts itself over me. Panic rips though my being but I can do nothing to stop that new force.
I throttle forward, into the black, through the black, and my entire world collapses into a single point.
Chapter Four
Phillip
In the depths of the stronghold
Mad, maniacal laughter tumbles out of me as I direct the forsaken forces to punish my prisoner.
“Is it worth it to you now?” I scream. “Is it worth going behind my back, behind the Queen’s back, to help that miserable, pathetic little girl?”
Streams of fire rain down from a summoned cloud covering the ceiling. Felix tries to fight against the pain, tries his damndest to make it seem as if I’m not hurting him.
But the intermittent screams that rip from his throat tell me I am doing my job.
Exactly as required by the Queen.
My eyes roll to the top of my head as that crazed laughter takes over. I am alive with power, I am filled with it! It’s a raging temper inside my skull, all through my body, and I have never felt anything as exhilarating and thrilling and addicting and exciting as this ever before!
No feeding could ever compare. It’s unimaginable to think that I denied myself this for so long. It was always what I was most afraid of—ever since I discovered the truth of the constellations from Mother.
Those constellations always said I had power. They spoke of the things I could be capable of. The darkness in them scared me, but that was back when I was weak. It was back when I had just completed the transformation from a good-for-nothing human.
Human. Hah! So long since I’ve been a part of that despicable breed. That hobbled, weak, pathetic species. I have nothing but absolute disdain for the inferior race. They should be made to cower before us! Now I see it. Now I know. The things that Father wants—they are not inherently bad or inherently evil.
They are the natural progression of what is right.
Humans are cattle. We are their masters.
No more vampires should ever be created from that inferior pool. We don’t need more numbers. Why would any of us share this gift?
I see the future now, the future is as it should be. All humans worldwide will be conscripted to breeding dens and slaughterhouses. Vampires will take over, and we will feast on their blood.
That is as it always should have been.
No more of this pity. No more of this false moral superiority. Vampires were meant to prey on humans.
To do any less is an affront to our very nature.
“Enough!” Felix gasps. “Phillip, enough!”
The conviction in his voice is enough to make me stop and take notice. He was just screaming with pain – when had I let up enough to give him room to breathe?
Somewhat intrigued, I halt the barrage of magic. Without an outlet, it pools inside of me, the power growing and growing, collecting, swirling, fighting, just waiting to be unleashed once more.
“You went against your monarch,” I say, with no shortage of contempt. “You conspired behind your ruler’s back. Why should I stop? You think this trifling punishment is enough to make up for your crimes?” Again I laugh. “Oh, no. No, Felix. Not even close.”
I walk toward him. He keeps his eyes on me, despite the gulf of difference in our strength.
I hate that I cannot read him. Those ancient eyes give away nothing. No fear, not even hatred.
Well. Felix must be among the oldest vampires with us. But that doesn’t mean he won’t break like the rest.
“For what you have done is treason,” I hiss, stopping a hair away from him. “And treason is worthy of the highest punishment. You deserve to have your body severed from your soul.”
He grunts but says not a word.
“The Queen is merciful,” I continue. My hand juts out and I grab him by the throat. I force his head up. “If it were up to me, you would be long gone.”
He looks right at me. For a moment I think I see pity in his eyes.
“What’s happened to you?”
I turn away again and scoff. “To me? Nothing. I have realized my full potential. I know now who I am. I know what is right. Everything I have denied for so long is now at the forefront of who I am.”
I turn back and smile. “It’s as Mother always wanted.”
And then, if only to prove my point, I unleash another torrent of magic right at him.
The Forces materialize and strike at him with a barrage of t
housands of tight, cruel lashes.
Felix grits his teeth against the pain. I wait for the screaming to start.
He holds it in.
That infuriates me. I double the strength of the spell. I strike at him with everything I’ve got. He grimaces, face twisting, yet still holding back.
I concentrate, making the magic harsher. It strikes at him, and I know he won’t be able to last long. He’s close to breaking.
I see it in his eyes.
But just as he’s about to reach the breaking point, the door to the room crashes open. A haggard member of my guard bursts in.
I turn on him in a rage, furious at being interrupted. I’m just about to redirect the flow aimed at Felix to the intruder, when he exclaims, “You’re needed in the upper levels. There’s been an escape!”
Chapter Five
Phillip
The stronghold
Felix forgotten, I run up the twisting paths of the stronghold toward the higher levels where the rest of The Haven’s vampires are.
I trusted only one member of the Royal Guard to know what I was doing and whom I was doing it with. I left that vampire far below ground, to stand watch at the door and ensure Felix does not free himself.
Not that there’s any true risk of that. The spells I cast keeping him in place can only be undone with magic.
There are only two other vampires in all of The Haven who could possibly do that. Mother and Eleira.
And I know they won’t be emerging from their little reunion any time soon.
The power rages inside me even as I run. I feel it building. Very soon it will demand a release. Whatever I learned of magic by studying Morgan’s archives and the ancient books in our libraries have proved nothing but a falsehood.
None of it is applicable to me or to the magic that I feel.
My instinct is that the difference comes from all those pages being written by, and for, women.
Nothing in there ever acknowledged the possibility of such forces being channeled by a man.
I reach the final hall that will lead me into the public and populated region of the stronghold. I stop just before pulling open the doors.
