by E. M. Knight
Because what he lacks in pure vampiric strength… he makes up for in cunning.
Yet sometimes I find him too wily for his own good.
He’s peeking out from one of the high entrances to the bleachers, showing only half his body. How long has he been there, watching me?
One of the things I hate about him is how easy he is to overlook. While all the other vampires of The Crypts shine like beacons with their presence, Riyu’s is barely noticeable. It gives him chance to hide, to be overlooked, in situations where others would not be.
It’s an advantage he’s exploited dozens of times. I’m sure of it.
In fact, recently, I’ve begun to notice him watching me more often. Especially when he thinks I’m not looking. But as Lieutenant of the First Guard, my entire mode d'être is constant vigilance. Any less, and I would be a failure.
He tries to dart away as soon as my eyes fall upon him. He even gets as far as disappearing behind the blood-red curtain. But then I call his name, and my voice echoes through the entire stadium.
“RIYU!”
The other vampires—my new recruits, would-be, hopeful members of the First Guard—immediately shift their attention to where I’m looking. None of them had noticed him, either.
Perhaps if one had, he would stand out as more capable in my mind.
The sullen form of the little vampire appears again. He looks down at his feet in a pitiful show of deference.
“Come here,” I say softly. I don’t need to yell for my voice to carry.
He starts the long path down the stairs. As he approaches, I address all the recruits.
“Today was a miserable showing for all of you. If you want to join the elite ranks of the First Guard, and represent your King, I expect much better from you. You’ve slackened on your training while I’ve been away. Starting tomorrow, we’re doubling our sessions. In a week, I expect at least one of you to get past my defenses. He who does will be given this—” I reach into my pocket and take out a vial of the most precious substance we have. “An ounce of The Ancient’s blood, weeks ahead of the next ceremony.” My eyes shift to them in greed. “Just think of the extra strength that will give you.”
Hunger lights up on all their faces.
“That is all! You’re dismissed.”
As one, they give me the proper military salute and march off in a strict column toward the barracks.
By that time, Riyu has reached the sandy floor of the training grounds in the pit of the arena.
I tuck the vial of blood away. None of the fools had any reason to question me. But the truth is, the blood inside the vial is nothing more than the vile, thin, disgusting fluid of fish.
I’ve had that vial on my person for many, many years. Each group of new recruits I receive is promised the same thing.
None—ever!—has been able to claim the prize. And so, I keep masquerading the fish juices as The Ancient’s blood.
“What are you doing here, Riyu?” I ask, with my back still turned on the little vampire. I wipe the blade of my longsword with a cloth, then walk over to deposit it in the weapon’s rack. “Why were you watching me?”
I feel him wince.
“So!” I turn on him. He still looks exactly like the boy whose blood had been refused to me by the King, at that one feast so many moons ago. “Have you become too cowardly to speak? I know there’s lots going on in that devious mind of yours. There always is.”
“I just wanted to see how training was going,” he says in a small voice.
“Ha!” I bark a laugh. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve shunned the stadium ever since it became clear how useless you are with a weapon. Not even with my teachings could you learn.”
He takes the insults without batting an eye. One thing I always disliked was how damn difficult it is to get a proper reaction from him.
It makes him hard to judge.
“You did your best,” he says. “But my hands...” he looks at them. “...were never meant for steel. Magic, on the other hand?”
Suddenly, a small flame pops up in the palm of his hands. It leaps up and across, landing on his other one like a jumping trout.
He smiles.
I grunt and turn away, unamused. “You know what the King thinks of males wielding magic.”
From the corner of my eye I see his expression fall. Was he trying to impress me?
“But you’re not the King,” he says softly. He comes to my side and looks at me with big eyes. “You are Dagan.”
I twist away, uncomfortable with his sudden proximity. What the hell was with the changing inflection in his voice when he said my name?
“I want to know why you were really up there,” I say. “I speak now as your Lieutenant. Answer me as is proper.”
“There’s no one around...” he says suggestively.
I glare at him. “What?”
He flinches back. “Nothing. Nothing. I overstep myself. Forgive me.”
I grunt again and wave the transgression away. “So?”
“Fine.” He seems to make up his mind. “I came because I wanted to see you. I thought we could talk about what happened. Maybe you could use my help...”
I bark a cruel, sardonic laugh. “Your help? Talk? What, are you turning into a woman, now? Maybe the King’s fears are true.”
That strikes a nerve. Riyu wilts as surely and suddenly as a poisoned flower.
But then he collects himself and, right before my eyes, shakes all his emotions off. As I’m used to, he becomes impossible to read.
Why did he expose himself to me that way?
“I don’t need your help, Riyu. When I require it, I ask. Nothing has changed. You are in service to me, so offers do not need to be made. Whatever I want, you give—as is the duty of all those below me.”
“Maybe there are things you want that you do not yet know,” he says.
I turn on him. “Riyu, what the hell are you on about?”
“Nothing.” He quickly retreats. “I’m sorry. Forgive me.”
“That’s twice you’ve asked forgiveness,” I say. “You better not do anything to necessitate a third.”
“I understand.”
“Now tell me what you meant by ‘what happened,’ and then be off.”
“The magic blade,” he says tightly. “I know the connection made between you and The Haven’s Prince was inappropriately severed. There can be consequences, for such a thing.”
I round on him, my anger flaring. “How dare you,” I begin. “How dare you insinuate that I am so weak, that I am so paltry, as to suffer such a pathetic affliction? The blade, the link, they mean nothing to me!” My anger is pouring out of me in waves. It’s lashing at him in great torrents. “You’re right that you overstep yourself, Riyu. This is not a transgression I can overlook. It doesn’t matter where you are, it doesn’t matter what you can do—such things should be no concern of yours!”
“I’m sorry,” he backtracks. “I—”
“Too late for apologies,” I sneer. “You’ve earned yourself sixteen lashes. Go now. Find Samuel. Tell him of your punishment.” I make a mental note of the time. “You have one hour before I expect it done. If you shirk this duty, Riyu, so help me God, I will...”
He stiffens. His back goes absolutely straight. He looks me in the eyes, and I see nothing in his. Not a fear of the pain, not rebellion against the order, not hatred toward me—nothing.
He has become a black hole of emotion.
He gives me a salute. “As you command,” he says formally, turns around, and darts off.
***
I storm into my rooms and slam the door shut. Alexandra, the female vampire waiting for me in bed, gives a start at my entrance.
“Get out,” I snarl at her. “Get out NOW!”
She jumps to obey. I don’t even have to exert my vampiric influence to make her go.
Once she’s gone, I stalk over to the far wall, the one with a caricature of a window carved into it, and slam my first against the
rock.
The whole room shakes. Bits of sand, loosened by the blow, fall from the ceiling.
I do it again. And again, and again, and again.
I’m left reeling. Riyu knows about the connection. Damn him! Damn him and all his forsaken magic!
He’s right. When the link broke, I felt something… shatter… inside of me. I’ve done a fine job covering it up. I don’t think anyone has noticed a difference in my behavior. If anything, I’ve become more aggressive, more demanding… as I have every right to be.
But that blade is my weakness. It is the only one. If anybody knew how desperate I am to reinstate the link, if anybody suspects my utter weakness for it… I would be ruined.
Except that now, one vampire does.
Riyu does.
Was he the one to enchant it? He must have been. Who else? And even if I had gotten it from Beatrice, Riyu is the one I have to hold responsible.
I am of the old school, the guard of vampires, who, like the King, believes that magic should be left untouched. It is too unpredictable a force to be unleashed onto the world.
The King and I agree on many things. In fact, I consider myself one of his few trusted advisers… but recently, I had softened my stance on magic. I saw it as less of an aberration and more of a force to be tackled, beat down, and controlled for your own gain.
That is why I had no qualms including Riyu in my company.
But this must be the dark side of magic being made obvious to me. Even though I act like I am all right, inside I’m crumbling. My attention span is shot. My thoughts are erratic. The only time I act with any semblance of calm is when I lose myself in the moments with a blade, or with a woman.
The rest of the time? All I can think of is that goddamn link. It’s not that it even gave me anything, no. And that’s what makes my current state so miserable! The link gave me nothing, and still I want it back, I need it in place, because without it, I do not feel whole.
It’s like an enormous chunk of my identity has been ripped out, and the only way to get it back is to revive the malicious connection.
I look down at my fists. My knuckles are bleeding. I want to laugh, but I’m too far gone for humor. They’re bleeding, and I don’t feel a thing!
I bring them up to my face to examine the wound. I watch as it closes in front of my eyes, watch as the skin repairs itself as only a vampire’s can.
That is the other thing that presses on my mind. If our bodies are so resilient, if they are so quick to heal, if they are made to endure… then why, dammit, am I still feeling the effects of losing the link?
I trudge over to the massive chest situated atop the wardrobe. A relic from the ancient past. I throw the lid open and look inside.
There, at the very bottom, lying cushioned amongst mahogany silk sheets… is the blade.
I reach out and touch it. I shiver as a wave of sensation shoots up my arm.
And then it’s gone, and both my limbs are numb again.
The loss of feeling scares me. It all started when the link broke. At first, it was just my fingertips that I could not feel. Then, the numbness spread to my palm. Then to my wrist, and up to my elbow.
Now it’s nearly at the shoulder, and getting worse each day.
At least, I still have full command of my arms. At least, I can still flex my fingers and wield my sword. At least, I can force my body to respond to my mind through sheer effort of will.
But what happens when that ceases to be the case? What happens when the numbness encompasses my chest, my abdomen, my spine, my entire body?
What happens when I am no longer able to take pleasure in a woman?
And Riyu knows about it.
I sent him for punishment because it is what he deserved. Clear lines exist between a Lieutenant and his underlings. He crossed the boundary.
But perhaps… Goddammit, maybe I do have to go to him for help.
It’s humiliating. But what’s worse? Doing it with Riyu in secret, or struggling to fight off the affliction on my own—and failing?
For the first time in my vampiric life, I have to go to one weaker for help.
I close the chest. The moment I do, and the moment the lid seals the magic blade inside, the numbness expands. It creeps up just a little further to my shoulder.
That finalizes my decision. The choice was only ever twofold: one, deny all vulnerability, and make sure the conception of it is seared out of Riyu permanently… or two, swallow my pride and ask him for help.
It disgusts me, and I hate it, but it seems that I am now at Riyu’s mercy.
Chapter Twenty-Three
RIYU
THE CRYPTS
I walk stiffly through the halls of The Crypts, doing nothing to hide the bleeding stripes across my back.
I feel my blood dripping from the open wounds. It seeps through my clothes and flows down my legs. It even gets inside my boots. Each step I take is punctuated by a very noticeable squish.
But I hold my head high and do nothing to hide. Let the other vampires see me. There is a time for dwelling in the shadows and a time for coming out into the light.
Right now, circumstance demands the latter.
Even though I am usually beneath most of these vampires’ notice, now, they look at me. The smell of blood announces my coming from hundreds of yards away. And by now, word will have surely spread through the more gossipy members of The Crypts, about the oft-neglected member of the First Guard receiving such punishment.
Sixteen lashes. Sixteen is unheard of. That many should be crippling to a vampire of my strength.
Yet, here I am, wearing my broken skin proudly, walking back to the privacy of my rooms as if nothing at all is wrong.
In truth? Though I feel the gashes most acutely, a tiny dab of magic has offset the pain. Offset enough, at least, to make me able to stage this little performance.
Of course, there is a price that will be paid later. Magic cannot heal or protect the way vampire blood does. In this case, all that magic allows is for me to build a debt. A debt of pain, which will all come crashing into me with horrendous force a little while later.
By then, however, I’ll be safe in the privacy of my rooms where nobody can see what happens.
And for now? Well, for now, the legend of Riyu will begin to take root.
I can already see some of the new respect directed at me by the other vampires. The way they look at me, the way they meet my eyes and nod in acknowledgment is evidence enough that my plan is working.
Besides. None of them know what I did to earn the lashing. None of them know what a trifling thing I was sent to punishment for.
None were there, and it only adds to the mystique.
I turn into the hall leading to my room. The final trek. The spell starts to weaken. I feel small cracks start to form in the protective shield warding off the pain.
I couldn’t have reached this hallway at a better time.
But despite my anxiety to get inside, I do not hurry. That would betray the entire act. I make my way to the room slowly. Squish, squish. A deeper crack nearly splinters the orb in two. Squish, squish, squish.
And then I reach the door, and a mountainous amount of relief crashes into me, coupled with the most glorious triumph. I open the door and slip through to the other side…
And I find my room occupied.
Beatrice is on the bed, looking at me with small, birdlike eyes.
Quickly I close the door. “What are you doing here?” I hiss. “I—”
A spasm of pain takes me through a crack in the shield. I miss a step and go sprawling.
I scowl at her from the floor, then pick myself up. She still hasn’t moved—nor given any indication that she saw me fall.
“I’ve done what you asked of me,” she says.
“You… what?”
“I’ve played my tricks, did a little mischief.” Her eyes sparkle. “Dagan should be coming to you soon.”
“No!” I gasp.
She
has the courtesy to look surprise. “No?” she asks. “Why ever not?”
I want to scream at her to just look at my back. More and more pain slithers in, and it’s taking all of my mental fortitude to prevent myself from screaming.
I haul myself across the room and drop into a plush, violet armchair. This space is my sanctuary—it is the one place in the entire Crypts where I have no fear of being judged.
I grimace as I look back on the trail of blood I left on the floor. On the carpet, on the silks…
It’s going to be a nightmare cleaning up.
“I thought that’s what you wanted,” Beatrice continues sweetly. “I did you a favor, Riyu. Soon it will come time for me to collect my debt. You know what I request.”
“For the King to acknowledge me,” I scoff. “Better luck trying to get Eleira to submit.”
Her eyes flash. “What do you know of the girl?”
Inwardly, I wince. I shouldn’t have brought the witch’s name up. But the pain is playing havoc with my sensibilities. With so much mental effort dedicated to keeping it at bay, I can’t fully function in conversation.
“Nothing,” I say. “Only what little I’ve seen from the time spent in her company.”
“And you don’t think she will accept our offer?”
“You’re asking me? What do I know? I’m merely the unwanted, illegitimate son of the King. Now Dagan’s whipping boy.”
I gesture roughly at my back.
“My, my, Riyu. I’ve never known you to be bitter.”
“You try receiving sixteen lashes and keeping your calm,” I snap.
Her eyebrows go up. “Was it that many? You must have really done something bad.”
“Go away, Beatrice,” I say. I bring a hand to my head and rub the space between my eyes. “Please, leave me alone. I need time to recover.”
“You’d better do it quickly,” she says. “For I feel a powerful vampire approaching.” She purses her lips and taps them. “I wonder who it is.”
I sink deeper into my chair and groan.
Beatrice stands up. She flows to the door. “I’ve fulfilled my part of the bargain,” she tells me. “I expect you to make good on yours.”
