by E. M. Knight
She shakes her head. “Human blood simply awakens them to their full capacities. But it all comes from you. The source of it is you.”
“I don’t buy it.”
“Just you wait, then. Wait, and you’ll see.”
I grunt, slightly discomforted. There’s no way she has this right…
Is there?
“James?” she adds after a moment.
“What?” I bark. My mind has started going down some dangerous slopes.
“Promise me one thing. Promise me that before you make any more fledglings, you will wait to see if I’m right.”
“And how long will that be?” I ask.
“A week. Maybe two. It depends on how fast they grow and how much they feed.”
I shift in my seat and look at her. Her eyes, which are typically so shielded, now shine with earnest imploration.
“You really believe in what you’re telling me,” I say. “Don’t you?”
“I’ve been on the other side of this,” she replies. “I know what it’s like. Remember, I was your Father’s… courtesan. For a time. I’ve learned some things.”
“All right,” I say, making up my mind. “If you tell me it’s a week? I’ll wait. What is that in the grand scheme of things, anyway?”
“Exactly,” she says. She gets up, and to my surprise, kisses me on the cheek.
“Thank you,” she whispers in my ear.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
CARTER
THE PATHS
I swing the necklace round my finger and whistle a careless tune as I search for my way out.
If I were anybody else, I’d be worried. If I knew slightly less of the Paths, I’d be concerned.
But my long study of their creation has left me with enough knowledge to know how to eventually find my way out. The Paths are immense, yes, but there were safeguards implemented during their creation. Sign marks, in a way that only those who knew about them could use. Methods of traversing the glittering crystal caves without losing where you are completely.
For example. If I were to walk in the opposite direction of the glow of light for three thousand, three hundred, and thirty-three steps… then stop, turn two-thirds of a full circle to my right… and say the proper words, a portal would appear, drawn from the influx of magic in this place, that would send me back to the exact point in the upper world from which I entered.
I am not eager to jump on that yet. One, it would bring me right back to the stronghold, where I would be instantly implicated. And two, it would stop any chance of me finding the Queen.
Because wherever the Narwhark took her… it stole her from me.
I do not forgive such transgressions easily.
When I find her—and find her I will—I can make the choice. Either return her to The Haven and be branded a hero for stopping Deanna’s treason… or, stick with my original plan, and bring her to The Order, where they will undoubtedly do horrible things to her, but where I will be handsomely rewarded.
Decisions, decisions…
I glance back over my shoulder. I still see signs of the distant city from afar. To Deanna, I’d lied—there were no torrials there.
But it seemed like a fun thing to claim at the time, just to see how she’d react.
I keep whistling and keep walking, my mood propelled by my most recent kill.
I reach the bottom of a tall, tall cliff. I look up. It ends so high above me I cannot see the top. But that unnatural mist is not here.
I jump, catch a hand hold, and begin to scale the wall.
But after a few minutes, even using my natural vampire speed, I’m no closer to the top than before.
A “few” minutes stretch to ten, then fifteen, then thirty. An hour passes—an hour of me climbing—without coming any closer to the top.
An unnerving feeling of disorientation comes over me.
Don’t look down, I remind myself firmly. Don’t look…
I turn my head and glance over my shoulder. The sight staggers me and makes me nearly let go.
I’m no more than a hundred feet from the cavern floor.
My confidence, for the first time in ages, actually wavers. Have I bitten off more than I can chew?
This damn place of illusions and myths…
Only a fool would try to continue the same way.
So I release my hold on the cliff face and drop back down. My feet hit the ground.
For half a second, during the fall, I’d almost expected them not to.
I look around me. This is exactly the spot from where I began.
A shiver crawls down my spine.
The Paths were made for witches. Humans traveled them, too. But perhaps this void, this alternative reality, somehow reacts differently to vampires or to other supernatural beasts.
The only solace I have is no matter how long I wander, I am at no risk of death. I will not starve or die from exhaustion. The elements can’t kill me.
But neither am I too thrilled with the prospect of being lost down here for eternity.
I turn away from the wall and head back toward the city. I need to get out of here before the nature of this place begins to play tricks with my mind.
Physical ailments, I can stand. But mental despair? Even that, for a vampire, could prove deadly.
Chapter Forty
ELEIRA
THE PATHS
“The trace is gone.”
My company staggers to a halt behind me. Raul is at my side first, but it’s Phillip who speaks.
“Gone? What do you mean, gone?”
“Vanished,” I say. I peer around the Paths. “I cannot feel her anymore.”
Phillip mutters an oath.
“Forgive me if I speak out of turn,” Geordam says. “But is there a chance… however slim… that the Queen has been—” he hesitates for a flicker of a moment, “—killed?”
“It’s a possibility,” I say grudgingly. I look at Raul and Phillip, her two sons. They give no outward reaction that I can see. “But I doubt it. Why take her away only to murder her? If they had her alone in the white ward, they could have done it then. Deanna had no problem trying to kill Phillip.”
The Captain Commander grimaces. “Mother is not dead,” he says.
“I think I would have felt something different had she been murdered,” I continue. “It’s only the trace. It’s like it… evaporated. Like it was covered up somehow.”
“Are we close to where it happened?” Raul asks.
“Up ahead,” I gesture. “Beyond the curve.”
We go the rest of the way, each of us on our guard. As soon as we turn the corner, I stagger to a halt. The entrance to the glittering cave in front of us is covered in rubble.
“It’s collapsed,” Phillip says under his breath. He runs forward, picks up a broken shard of crystal, then tosses it aside in disgust. “This is where the trail ends?”
“A little bit beyond here,” I say.
“Eleira,” Raul asks. “Do you think this barrier is enough to cut the trace off?”
I nod. “Yes, that makes sense.”
Phillip looks around. “It’s the only way forward.” He starts hefting the debris. “We’ll have to dig our way through.”
“With our bare hands?” Raul asks, incredulous.
“We’re better suited for it than most,” Phillip replies, letting his claws come out before hiding them again. “Wouldn’t you say?”
Raul grunts. “I wish there were a faster way. Eleira, can’t you—can’t you make a portal, or something to the other side?”
I blink. The suggestion is so obvious it’s a wonder I haven’t considered it myself.
Phillip goes still. “Is that possible?”
I nod slowly. “I… think so.”
“Ha!” Phillip laughs. He clasps his brother by the shoulder. “Raul, you’re brilliant!”
He shrugs the compliment off. “It’s still up to Eleira.”
I nod. “I don’t think I can make a direct portal t
o the other side,” I say. “That’s not how this place works. I’ll have to cast one out to the real world. And then, from there, make another that drops us back in, but on the other side of the barrier.”
“Can you do that?” Phillip asks.
“Yes,” I say. “Give me a few minutes, though. I need to familiarize myself with this place.”
“We’ll keep watch while you do,” Phillip says.
I nod and start concentrating.
The trick to this sort of thing is a very intimate knowledge of the space you’re in. Riyu first showed me that. He didn’t tell me directly, but I picked up on the distinction as he was teaching me to cast the portal spell.
I clear my mind and close my eyes. Visuals are of little use. I need to know this spot intimately, know it as well as I do my own body, if I am to cast a spell that brings us back to this general area from the outside.
I focus on the swirling tendrils of magic in the air. Their energy is vast. The potential they have to affect things is enormous. It’s all latent, all safely contained inside, and it all requires a witch to unleash …
All that energy also has a certain flavor, a certain flair, almost like a… uniqueness. The way the energy streams flow and move and interact with each other here is very much different than they would even a mile or two away. Magic takes on the shape of its surroundings, and it reacts in the physical world by seamlessly molding over it. In a way, it’s like water, in that it finds the path of least resistance through the world.
That signature, that difference, is what my mind hooks onto.
But as I do it, as I begin to study the differentiating swirls and patterns invisible to most, I feel a sort of… menacing energy… beneath it all.
I ignore it at first. It’s so minor—
But then in a single pulse it grows stronger.
I open my eyes in sudden alarm. There’s only one being that can be the cause of that.
The Narwhark.
“Eleira?” Raul asks. “Is that it, are you done?”
“No.” I shake my head. I cut off my connection to the magical elements as I peek around the space. “No, but something’s wrong.”
Phillip immediately jumps to attention. “What?”
“The demon,” I say. “The demon has been here.” I turn around and face the wreckage. “It caused this. I’m sure.”
“So now we have to deal with the Narwhark, too?” Phillip growls.
“Maybe. Maybe not,” I say. “In truth, I want to do all I can to avoid it.”
I’m not ready to face whatever link or connection I have with the beast just yet.
“I don’t think it knows we’re here yet. But I can feel the taint of its brand of magic in the air.”
“If it comes, we’ll be ready,” Phillip vows. “Just get us to the other side.”
I shake my head. “No. If I do that, I’ll alert it to our presence.”
Raul considers the barricade. “How long would this take to excavate?”
“Too long,” Phillip says. “We don’t know how deep it goes. Eleira, I say you do it. Cast the portal. We’ll be quick. If the demon comes—”
“Are you mad?” Raul exclaims. “You want to fight the beast?”
“No, I want to save the Queen,” Phillip counters. “And if we keep delaying—Eleira, do it. Make the portal.”
I look from Phillip to Raul.
“The longer we wait, the worse our odds become,” Phillip says. “We’ll watch for you, Eleira. If the Narwhark arrives, we’ll keep you safe.”
“Nobody can keep me safe against it,” I mutter. “None of us can stand against it as we are. Not even together. I saw it in the vision. It’s too strong.”
Phillip steps closer to me. “You said it had a chance to kill Raul. It had him on the ground. Yet it didn’t. And you, I don’t think it would harm you.”
I hesitate. Can I go so far on faith alone?
Raul looks painfully conflicted. “Ultimately it’s up to you,” he tells me. “We won’t make you do anything.”
He shoots a glare at his brother that emphasizes the words.
Phillip grunts and backs off.
“You’re probably right,” I say to Phillip. “You know what? Screw it. I’ll give it another try. I’ll—”
Without warning, the ground starts to shake.
Everyone jumps in alarm. “What is that?” Geordam exclaims.
“Eleira, do you feel anything?” Raul yells.
“No!” The shaking ground makes me lose my balance. Everyone else is on their feet, keeping balance, at the ready, watching the surroundings like a team of hawks.
A massive portal begins to form on one wall.
It swirls into being, expanding outward from a single point. Black streaks spiral out like inky tentacles. They start spinning, round and round and round, as if a whirlpool has sprung up in the middle of the crystals.
The dark pool draws in the ever-present light. The Paths begin to dim. The darkness that comes is the darkness of absolution. Vampiric sight cannot pierce it because there is nothing there.
A pulsing begins to thread through the air.
It’s faint at first but grows progressively stronger. Thud… thud. Every reverberation I feel in my bones. Thud… thud-thud. More of the light is sucked into the black hole. Thud, thud-thud.
It sounds—it feels—like a heartbeat.
“Eleira?” someone screams. I realize belatedly that a great wind is blowing. All the air is rushing into that dark portal, and with it goes the magical energy of the place. The hideous mark on the wall pulses in time with that unnatural heartbeat, and it looks, as far as I can tell, like a living wound.
I want to turn away and feel fear, but I… do not.
I am perversely fascinated by the darkness.
While the other vampires scramble away, I take a step toward it. My hand stretches out. I feel an inexplicable pull, a beckoning, originating from there.
“Eleira, no! Get back!”
Raul’s voice, I think in a daze. Once again, my mind seems to have transcended the usual passage of time. Once more, it’s operating on some higher plane, where everything around me is slow and dull and meaningless in comparison.
I take another step toward the hole.
The thumping increases. Now it’s a strong and steady beat, like the sound of a war drum. The Paths are oscillating with it.
There are sounds of commotion in the background. I don’t care. I am entranced by what I’m seeing, utterly captivated by the force contained within the thing.
The world around me darkens, more and more, until the clearest thing to my mind is that rotating, pulsating hole.
I’m inches away from it now. The suction it exerts on the surroundings is incredible. All sound, all light, all magic is swallowed up by the void.
Yet I am approaching of my own free will.
A small voice urges me to stop, to consider what is happening, to back away. I pay it no mind. I am like an addict drawn to the needle, incapable of turning my attention, incapable of ignoring it, until I get my fix.
My hand reaches out, and my fingers dip into the unwholesome mass.
An explosion of darkness throws me back.
I hit the far wall hard. Pain splinters up and down my spine—pain of the sort I have not known since I was human. And then, my whole body is numb, and I cannot react, cannot feel anything, cannot control a single muscle—
Fear takes control of my mind. But not fear for what has happened to me.
Fear for what is emerging from the hole.
A great beast sticks its maw out. It is many times larger than the Narwhark. Its teeth are pointed and jagged and sharp. But, worst of all—perhaps most grotesque of all—they are also transparent. And inside the enamel I can see tiny views of tainted blood, webbed together in a disgusting, revolting array.
I cannot see the rest of its head or its body. Only the jaw. And two enormous nostrils stick above the sickly translucent upper lip, that flare
as they sniff the air… and focus right on me.
A new stab of terror takes hold.
Slowly, the beast moves forward. The outline of a massive, misshapen paw shows. Talon-like claws poke out from the end of each stubby digit. There is an aura of decay, of great age, of that proverbial time transcendence to the creature. It belongs neither to this cave nor in the realm on which the Paths lie.
It is coming from somewhere else. Somewhere darker, deeper, and more dangerous. Somewhere… I do not know where.
Suddenly, a bolt of black, fast as an arrow, streaks through my vision and strikes the creature on its nose.
The great thing gives a terrible roar. The sound is unearthly, jagged and crooked and sickly and absolutely off. It’s a sound that is decidedly evil, completely menacing, and outside this world. It is a sound that should never be produced on earth.
The black streak lands, pivots, and launches itself at the emerging creature again. My eyes nearly bulge out of my head in shock.
The Narwhark is defending us.
Again and again the demon strikes at the monstrosity in the wall. Time is still distorted. I am still outside of its regular flow. What has happened to Raul or Phillip or any of the guards I have no idea—I cannot feel them, I cannot sense them. I do not even know if they’re around. I see only varying shades of darkness, from the black of my surroundings to the black of the Narwhark’s leathery skin to the absolutely black of the other creature’s hole.
The big thing, whatever it is, is slow to react. It starts to withdraw, withering in pain, as the Narwhark strikes at it. The demon is breathtakingly fast, and it hits me that maybe only it and I are on that level. That maybe, the creature trying to emerge is hindered by the regular passage of time like everything else.
The Narwhark makes one last leap, swiping a slash across the huge snout with its poisoned claw. Another horrible, soul-destroying roar comes from the huge creature’s throat… and then it shrinks back.
The paw disappears, as does the head. The Narwhark draws its lips back and hisses, then shoots a spray of poisonous spittle at the ebbing portal.
As soon as it hits, a violent reaction occurs. There’s a bright flash, an ear splintering boom. The vortex starts to spin the opposite way, hurling everything it had stolen back up, from the light, to the magic, to the sound…
