Dark Season: The Complete Third Series (All 8 books)

by Amy Cross

  "I was here during the war, you know," the man says. "I saw you vampires killing one another over and over again. The ground is still soft and wet from all the blood that was spilled. I was trapped, but fortunately you were all too busy killing each other to pay any attention to me. I was young back then, and I didn't think the war was ever going to end. And then, just when all seemed lost, I saw you turn and leave the field of battle. I'd been keeping tabs on you for a while, and I knew you were up to something. And then suddenly the war ended, and all the other vampires died because you..." He smiles. "It was so eerie out here after it was over. I'd have left and gone home, but I didn't know how. I tried to send a few messages back, but I doubt they ever got through. Eventually I built this little camp, set myself up and decided to live out my days. It's not so bad. Do you know how old I am? Can you guess?"

  I stare at him.

  "I'm one hundred and twenty years old," he continues, with a proud grin. "I think. It's hard to keep track. I'm no vampire. I'm not a werewolf, either. I'm a human being, and I've still got all my brains intact. Well, as far as I know. I suppose maybe I wouldn't necessarily recognize it if I'd gone mad, but I'm an optimist and I reckon I'm still alright up here". He taps the side of his head. "You know how to live a long life? Curiosity. Stay curious. Always ask questions. If you don't, you'll lose interest in the world and the world'll lose interest in you, and you'll just kinda slip apart from one another. Being alive's like being married. You've got to put in some effort, or there'll be no magic left". He pauses for a moment. "You hungry, Patrick? I've got some meat I can share with you. There are mice out here in the wilderness, and they're damn tasty when they've been barbecued".

  I shake my head. I should be moving on, continuing with my Death Walk, but the warmth of the fire is too tempting.

  "You look like a chap with a lot on his mind," the old man continues. "You look troubled. Fortunately, I'm a man with no place to go and plenty of time to sit about yapping. Care to talk about your troubles?" He laughs. "I mean, I know you haven't been able to talk for a long, long time, but that's all over now, isn't it? You can talk now. After all, you're almost dead". He leans over and pats me on the back. "I can see it in your eyes. You're on your Death Walk. I've studied vampire culture for a while. I know how it works. You've come out here to die alone, like an animal. Humans like to die with others around them, but most other creatures like to die unattended. I'm not planning on stopping you. I just figure you might as well hang around for a while and chat some shit with a fellow old-timer".

  Pulling my hands back from the fire, I turn to walk away. It was weak of me to stop and talk to this man, and I should keep going. The mystery of his appearance in this land is one that can detain other people, after I'm gone.

  "You don't want to wait for little Abigail?" he calls after me.

  I keep walking. Abigail is locked in the room and unlikely to ever find her way out. No-one has ever managed to escape from that place. During the war, vampires would go in there and face themselves, hoping to learn their fate. They all died where they stood.

  "You're making a mistake," the old man shouts. "You're going to destroy that girl, the same way you destroyed Gwendoline!"

  I stop in my tracks. This man is a fool. I didn't destroy Gwendoline; she was born weak, and I merely recognized her failings before others took notice. I gave her chances to improve herself, and she failed every time. Abigail and Gwendoline are so different, it's useless to compare them.

  "I was there that day," the old man shouts over to me. "I was watching when you killed the deer and she ran. You were too harsh with her. She was just a child, and you tried to make her grow up too fast. I can't imagine what she's like now, but she's lucky if she hasn't been permanently scarred. Perhaps I shouldn't be too harsh, old boy, but you weren't a very good father to her. I hope you've done better with Abigail".

  I turn to face him. This man is trying my patience. I still have more than enough strength to kill him.

  "I hear things," he continues. "You'd be surprised how news travels around here. I hear whispers in the dark. Gwendoline needed you to help her, to support her. Instead, you cast her aside and moved on to find your next child. If you're thinking of abandoning Abigail in the same way, you're doubly foolish and you should turn around and go back to her. What do you think is going to happen? Do you think these girls are going to be born ready? If you want one of them to take your place, you have to spend time with her. You have to show her what to do, and you have to train her. Walking away is never going to solve anything".

  Pausing for a moment, I start walking back toward the old man. He's stepped over a line and it's time to punish him.

  "Are you going to kill me?" he asks, his voice fracturing a little. "I suppose it's time. I've been out here long enough, alone. I want a quick death, though, if you don't mind". He reaches up and unbuttons the top of his shirt, exposing his wrinkled neck. As he holds the collar open, his hands shake a little. "I should have been killed the moment I set foot in this place. I've been living on borrowed time for long enough. I imagine my blood must be very weak by now, but you're welcome to take what you want". He strains his neck, trying to tempt me. "Come on," he continues, "we're both old men. I've studied vampires all my life. I might as well die at the hands of one, and you're the last chance I'll ever get. If you don't kill me, what's my fate to be? I'll just keel over one day while I'm collecting wood. Better to go with a bit of a show, huh?"

  I turn away and resume my walk into the darkness. No doubt, the old fool is watching me go and pitying me, judging me for my past. It's easy for him: he can pass comment without having to really experience the crushing disappointment of discovering that your children will never live up to their potential. The truth, though, is that I did my best. Gwendoline was a weak little idiot from the start, and I should have killed her when she was a child. Abigail showed potential, but she allowed herself to be tricked by her half-sister, and no-one can escape from that room. Even I would never have been able to get out of that place, if I had been foolish enough to let myself get lured in there in the first place. I did everything I could with both Gwendoline and Abigail, and they failed me. All that's left for me to do now, is to go into the darkness and keep walking until I can walk no more. Leaving the old man behind, I walk for hours, with the night air getting colder and colder. Soon I will be able to walk no more, and death will claim me. I can only hope there will be no ghosts to greet me when I pass.

  Abby

  Today.

  I should be dead.

  Opening my eyes, I find that it's still night. I'm on the ground outside in the freezing cold, surrounded by broken wood and glass. Slowly, I take a deep breath before rolling over and then sitting up. I hold my hands up and flex my fingers, checking to see that they work. I remember falling and landing hard, but right now everything feels... right. Standing up, I find that although I'm a little sore, my body seems to have healed itself. Just as Patrick managed to recover from that huge metal spike that Benjamin put through his chest, I seem to have somehow knitted my bones back together. It's as if I'm as good as new. I look up and see the broken window high above me. It's hard to believe I fell so far and survived, but I guess vampires are tough.

  Turning and walking along the side of the building, I eventually come to a door. It's locked, of course, but I spot a figure sitting inside, drinking a glass of wine next to a burning hearth. It's Wormwood, the guy from dinner; I knock on the window, and he comes over.

  "Let me in!" I shout.

  He pauses for a moment, before reaching into his pocket and pulling out a key. He unlocks the door and pulls it open. "Well you're a very lucky young lady, aren't you?" he says as I enter. "How did you know I have a key?"

  "I guess you just seem well-connected," I reply as he pushes the door shut and locks it again. "I need to find Patrick. Where is he?"

  "Gone," Wormwood replies.

  "What do you mean?"

  "I mean he walked out and
headed off to the wasteland," he says. "I believe he was going to investigate the light".

  "What light?"

  "Look out the window and see for yourself," he says.

  As soon as I look out into the darkness, I see what he means. Far away, a small pinprick of light is burning in the night. "What is that?" I ask. "I thought all the land around Gothos was deserted?"

  "It is," Wormwood says, "or at least, it's supposed to be. Nevertheless, that looks an awful lot like a campfire to me, and campfires don't tend to just spring up of their own accord. There's someone or something out there, and naturally your father went to take a look. The only thing out there should be bodies. Tens of millions of dead bodies. There shouldn't even be ghosts out there".

  "When's he coming back?" I ask.

  "I have no idea," Wormwood replies, "but I wouldn't count on seeing him again if I were you, though. He's not in the best of shape. Then again, he's a rather extraordinary fellow. It'd be quite wrong to write him off". He pauses for a moment. "I rather think he might have embarked upon his Death Walk".

  "What's a Death Walk?" I say.

  "When a vampire knows he's to die soon, he doesn't go to bed and wait for it to end. Not like a human. It's a point of honor for a vampire to die while walking, and over the years the ritual has become known as a Death Walk. He'll walk and walk and walk until finally he can walk no more, and then his body will fall to the ground. They say that when a vampire falls, the ground shudders for miles around. Can you imagine what it must have felt like during the vampire war, when millions fell at once?"

  "He can't die yet," I reply. "He hasn't said goodbye. He hasn't told me what to do".

  "He probably thought you'd never make it out of that room," Wormwood says. "To be honest, neither did I. You're a tough little bird, aren't you? How'd you do it? Did you break the door down? Did you find a key?"

  "Window," I say.

  "Nice," he replies with a grin. "Poor little Gwendoline, always plotting something but never quite managing to seal the deal".

  "Where is she?" I ask.

  "I'm not sure," he says. "She's around somewhere. She's a feisty little thing, your half-sister. She was such a terrified little child, but she's really come on in leaps and bounds".

  I stare at him. "Half-sister?" I ask, feeling my blood run cold.

  He pauses. "Well now I feel I might have rather opened my big mouth too wide," he says. "You and she share the same father, but I wouldn't worry about it. She's the black sheep of the family. The reject. You're the chosen one".

  Staring out at the light in the distance, I try to work out how, exactly, Gwendoline can be my half-sister. There's so much I still don't know about my history, and now Patrick seems to have wandered out into the wilderness without telling me the truth. I need him back here. Maybe he thinks he can head out into no man's land and lose himself, but I'm going to go out there and bring him back, and then I'm going to find out the truth about Gwendoline. She's tried to kill me twice now, so I feel there's definitely a little bad blood between us. Still, if she's my sister, I have to try to help her.

  "I shouldn't have said anything," Wormwood continues. "Please, don't blame an old man for having loose lips, will you?"

  "She's jealous of me," I say, finally understanding why Gwendoline behaved so strangely around me. "She wanted to get rid of me so she could get closer to Patrick".

  "Don't hate her too much," he replies. "She had a rather difficult childhood. If you'd been through the things Gwendoline has been through, I dare say you'd be in a sorry state too".

  "I don't hate her," I say. "I don't trust her, and I don't like her, but I don't hate her either. I want to help her".

  "Impossible," he says, glancing at his watch. "It's getting late. Perhaps you should retire for the night. Things often look better in the morning, even if nothing's really changed".

  "Tell Gwendoline I'll be back soon," I say. "First, I'm going out there to find Patrick and bring him back".

  "Well that's rather foolish," he replies. "Very brave, though".

  I shake my head. "I'm not brave. I'm terrified".

  "Bravery isn't the absence of fear," he replies. "Bravery is feeling fear, but doing what needs to be done regardless". He smiles. "Good luck, old girl. If you truly take after Patrick, you might just stand half a chance of surviving, but you won't bring him back, not if his Death Walk has begun. It's his destiny".

  "I've surprised you once," I say. "Maybe I'll do it again". With that, I turn open the door, heading back out into the cold night of the garden. In the distance, the little spark of light is still burning. In a few hours, dawn will come and the light won't be easy to spot. I can't afford to wait another day for nightfall to come, so I have to move fast. Fortunately, as I walk away from the house I realize I'm picking up Patrick's tracks. It's as if I can somehow tell exactly which route he's taken. Speeding up, I hurry after him. There's no way I can let him simply disappear like this. I need him.

  Patrick

  The vampire war left millions dead, their bodies scattered across the land. Not just vampires, but also other species that came to join the battle, and it's the latter whose bones splinter underfoot as I walk. I don't think anyone has been this far out from Gothos since the war ended, but in the moonlight the bones glisten against the charred ground. This is where the fire took hold, burning everything in its path. Vampires were able to escape the flames, but others were not so lucky; they fell and burned, their screams echoing into the night. Never in the history of the world has there been so much death in one place, but there are no ghosts here. There is nothing but the broken bones of warriors, crunching and snapping as I walk across the shattered landscape. This is a dead and empty land.

  The cold wind has stopped now. Out here, there's nothing but still air, stale from the stench of death. For hundreds of years, these bodies have been undisturbed; now I come stumbling across them, paying no attention to where they lay. Pausing for a moment, I look down at a skull that stares straight back at me. From the bone structure, it looks to have been a Golv, probably drawn to the battle by a desire for glory. The vampire war drew many such creatures, many of them mistakenly believing that they could triumph; others knew they would die, but simply wanted to experience the carnage. This Golv probably died in agony, but he had probably killed others first. After he fell and burned, his charred bones will have remain here for centuries, untouched and unseen. Stepping forward, I put my foot straight through the front of his face, smashing the bones to dust.

  Eventually I reach the edge of the bone-field; the point where even the carnage of the war ended. Now there is nothing ahead of me but a dark, barren landscape covered with black rocks, sheltered under a dark sky. There has never been life this far from Gothos, and even the vampires of old kept away from this part of the land. There were stories, told to children, of creatures that inhabited this tundra, but only the foolish believed these tales to be true; no life could prosper in such a place and, even if it could, it would inevitably move toward Gothos. I had hoped that my Death Walk would end before I reached this region, but now it seems I must walk on and on until I drop. I can feel my legs becoming tired, but still I stumble ahead. I will not weaken, even if I run out of world in which to walk.

  After a while, I notice something in the air. As I keep walking, I realize that snow is starting to fall. Looking up, I see wispy white clouds above, and within minutes the snowfall has intensified and the land is becoming white. I no longer feel the cold, which is a good sign: my body is shutting down and death must be close. I always knew it was my destiny to die alone, but I did not realize it would be in a place such as this. I am probably the first living creature to set foot in this region in all of history. Stopping for a moment, I look back over my shoulder. I can see the mountains in the distance, and I can't help but think of Gothos beyond, its lights still burning in the night. The old palace of the vampires has persisted for so long, with no hope of a return to glory. Now that I have failed to raise
a child who can take my place, my species will die with me and the walls of Gothos will begin to crumble.

  Perhaps the old man at the campfire was right. Perhaps I should have worked harder and longer to mold Gwendoline into my successor. She was weak, for sure, but maybe a better father could have raised her more successfully. Then again, perhaps the real mistake was Abigail. After all, the prophecy pointed to Sophie as being the perfect mother for my child. I was certain that Abigail would be born strong and capable, and that she would need only the slightest push from me once she reached a certain age. Instead, she turned out to be weak-willed and easily deceived by her half-sister. Having been put to the test, Abigail failed, but maybe I tested her too soon. If mistakes were made, they were mine alone. I can't blame those two girls for what happened. I expected too much of them and -

  Suddenly I trip and fall, landing hard against the ground. I immediately make a move to get up, but I find that I'm weaker than I expected. Taking a deep breath, I try to summon the energy to get back onto my feet, but something feels very wrong. After a moment, I realize that the time has arrived and my Death Walk is over. Staring ahead, I see nothing but a pitch-black landscape and falling snow. I no longer have the energy to get up, so I must just stay here now and wait for the end to come. Rolling onto my back, I stare up at the sky and watch as snow drifts down onto me. It was snowing, I've been told, on the night I was born all those centuries ago, so it's only fitting that there should be snow tonight as well. I've seen many people die during my lifetime, and I feel that my own death is one of which I can be proud. If I had raised a child who could continue the bloodline of the vampires, perhaps there would just have been more death and pain in the world. It's better like this. I wait patiently for the end to come, and then - just when it seems that life must be over - something impossible happens. Nearby, something moves. Footsteps coming toward me, crunching in the snow...