by Jim Hines
“How nice,” she said, matching his dry tone.
Derek cleared his throat, trying to get people’s attention. “Do either of you need anything here?” he asked. “I’ve already grabbed a few extra flasks of oil.”
Gavin looked at Galadrion, who shook her head.
“Then let’s go,” he said.
They walked out of the room, and Derek locked the door behind them.
“I think we should stick together,” Gavin said.
Derek looked at him questioningly.
“Galadrion here doesn’t know the tunnels like we do,” he explained. “Besides, I’m not too keen on the idea of going up alone against someone who took out one of the black-robes.”
Derek laughed. “You afraid of this guy, Gavin?”
“Just being careful,” he answered. “Olara thinks this elf has the power to kill her. If so, there’s always the chance he’d be able to do something to us, too.”
“Whatever,” Derek said, walking ahead.
Following behind, Gavin looked over to Galadrion. “Derek’s a little on the aggressive side. He can be a little on the stupid side sometimes, too.”
“I heard that,” Derek called from up ahead.
“Good!” Gavin yelled back. “Now shut up before you warn everybody in the whole bloody temple that we’re here.”
After that, they walked in silence.
* * *
“Why don’t we head up to the altar room and see if there’s any clues about which passage this intruder took?” Gavin suggested.
“Sure, whatever,” Derek said grumpily. He was still sulking about being yelled at earlier.
Galadrion just nodded silently in agreement. She was finding it disturbingly easy to fit in with these people. Since becoming a vampire, Galadrion had tried to avoid people as much as possible. That was why she had been so willing to live with Nakor, isolated in the forest.
Now, for the first time, she was spending time with her own kind. There was none of the hatred, none of the fear she endured from the “mortals,” as Gavin and Derek referred to them. She felt as if she belonged. For the first time in over a quarter of a century, she no longer felt like a monster.
Nakor had been the only one who had treated her with anything approaching this type of acceptance. Jenn seemed to like her, but Jenn didn’t understand exactly what she was yet. As for Whoo and Pynne, well, perhaps pixies had a different perception of vampires than footerlings.
Her musings were interrupted as they halted before a door. Yanking it open, Derek led them back into the altar room.
“Two of the torches are gone from the wall mounts,” Gavin noted immediately.
“I took one of them,” Galadrion explained.
“Hey, look at this,” Derek called. He was kneeling next to the body of the dead priest, still crumpled against the altar.
“It looks like something just hurled him through the air,” Gavin commented, studying the corpse. “And look over here.”
He had turned his head and was now examining the shattered remains of one of the crystal spiders. The pillar still lay on top of the pile of splinters, where Galadrion had thrown it.
“The other one’s over here,” Galadrion called, trying to conceal her nervousness.
“What could do this kind of damage?” Derek asked, surveying the room. “Even I’d be hard pressed to get close enough to do that to a priest,” he admitted.
“You might have been right about Nakor finding a way to get his magic back,” Gavin speculated, glancing at Galadrion. “If so, he’s more powerful than we’ve been told.”
Galadrion breathed a quiet sigh of relief. They didn’t suspect anything. Now she just needed to find a way to divert the pair so that the others could escape. Her comfort at being with other vampires had evaporated when she was reminded that these two would kill her friends without hesitation.
She knelt down by Gavin to study the pillar-crushed spider. “I’m impressed,” she commented.
“But none of this tells us which way to go,” Gavin said, glancing around the room. “Any ideas?”
“How about that one,” Galadrion said, pointing to a door she knew was the wrong one.
“Why that one?” Derek asked curiously.
Galadrion shrugged. “I figure your guess is as good as mine.” Then she smiled. “But I’d still rather go with mine.”
They were turning to re-enter the tunnels when they heard a noise behind them. Spinning, they beheld a priest walking into the room.
“Greetings, Niuris,” Gavin said respectfully.
I have no idea where I came up with that name. Or how to pronounce it. But at least there are no random apostrophes, eh?
“Gavin,” the priest replied absently, nodding his head in greeting. “Who is your friend?”
Gavin frowned. “This is Galadrion, she’s new.”
Niuris studied her for a moment. Then his eyes widened.
“You fool!” he shouted. “One of Nakor’s companions is a female vampire!”
Gavin and Derek both whirled to grab her, but they were too slow. Galadrion had already leapt forward and pulled the pillar off of the dead spider. Straining, she hurled it at the priest.
Niuris waved his hand, and the pillar crumbled into dust in mid-air. He blinked as the dust blew past him, momentarily blinding him.
Seeing her chance, Galadrion reached over her shoulder to draw her sword. Then she felt a strong hand close across her wrist.
She turned to look into Derek’s angry face. A moment later, Gavin grabbed her other arm. She struggled briefly, but it was no use.
“Is it true?” Gavin whispered.
Galadrion looked into his eyes. She felt genuine regret that her brief moment of acceptance was over. Once again, she was the enemy.
“Yes.”
“You killed that priest, didn’t you?” Derek asked.
She nodded.
Out of Niuris’s line of sight, Derek grinned. Leaning closer, he whispered into Galadrion’s ear.
“I wish I could have seen it.”
“So what do we do with her?” Gavin asked.
“We wait,” Niuris answered. “Nakor and his companions are somewhere inside, searching for a spell that will help them against Olara.
“This is the only way out,” he said, gesturing at the tunnel behind him. “So we wait here until they return.”
They waited for close to an hour, with nobody saying anything. Once or twice Galadrion tested the grips of her captors, but their grasp was like iron. She was trapped.
Then, Nakor led the others into the room. He stopped in surprise, studying the scene before him. Galadrion watched sadly as they were disarmed, and Olatha-shyre was destroyed.
“Now,” Niuris said in an arrogant voice, “you will come with me.”
Then he spun on his heel and began walking out of the tunnel. Glancing at the vampires who held Galadrion prisoner, Nakor followed, Jenn and the pixies walking close behind.
“Hey Niuris,” Derek yelled, “What time is it outside, anyway?”
“There are still several hours until dawn,” the priest called back, “you have nothing to fear.”
“Olara is going to be very happy to see you again, Nakor,” Niuris continued, turning to look back at his prisoners. “She’s been wanting to talk to you for a long time.”
“All she had to do was ask,” Nakor answered, still holding his wounded hand.
“A goddess does not ask,” Niuris said disdainfully, “she commands.” He looked over the others as they walked. “Your friends will have to be killed, of course,” he said casually.
Nakor tensed. Everyone had been aware of the risks involved, even Jenn. But that didn’t make it any easier to deal with, now that they had been captured.
“I don’t suppose you’d be willing have an honorable duel for the lives of the prisoners?” Nakor ventured.
Niuris just laughed.
“I didn’t think so,” Nakor muttered.
Bad gu
ys are jerks.
Pynne and Whoo glanced at each other. Then they both looked at Jenn.
She was maintaining a facade of nonchalance, but inside Jenn was scared. It was starting to sink in that she was going to die. She kept telling herself that they would escape, somehow, but deep inside her heart a tiny voice was whispering that it was all over. Thirteen years old, and she was going to die.
They were walking out of the temple now, into the moonlit clearing. A little ways away, Olara’s city of followers slept. Only the occasional campfire still burned.
I love that I kept calling this glorified campsite a city.
“You know,” Pynne commented, “without Olatha-shyre, we’re really no danger anymore.”
“Oh, I know that,” Niuris said. “But Olara isn’t the kind to forgive and forget.” He turned and smiled at Nakor. “Besides, you’re family.”
“You know,” Nakor said, “I think you’re forgetting something.”
Niuris looked at him disdainfully. “Oh really?”
Nakor nodded vigorously.
“And what might that be?”
He turned and walked up to the two vampires holding Galadrion. Casually, he placed a hand on either of their shoulders. “It has to do with these two gentlemen.”
Bad guys are jerks, but they’re so cooperative about patiently waiting while the good guys get ready to do something.
Derek and Gavin both stared at him in confusion.
“So what, precisely, am I forgetting?”
Grinning, Nakor closed his eyes and concentrated. Turning his hands palm up, he conjured two small balls of fire.
“This,” he answered.
The vampires’ eyes widened. Then Nakor slapped the flames into their faces.
That’s right, Nakor slapped his flaming balls right into…um…never mind.
Chapter 12
Forgetting their prisoner, Derek and Gavin leapt back, frantically slapping at the flames that began to spread over their hair and clothes. Galadrion leapt forward, trying to avoid the flames.
Nakor took that moment to gesture to Flame. Obeying one of the few commands he recognized, the fire falcon flew off into the night.
“I will kill you myself!” screamed Niuris, raising his hands. Then Jenn punched him in the stomach.
She was too young to do any serious damage, but it was enough to interrupt his spell. Niuris cursed and raised a hand to slap Jenn out of the way.
Whoo dove from above, crashing into Niuris’s knees. As he did so, Pynne flew up and kicked him in the throat. They had both been invisible since the moment Nakor cast his spell.
I hope all of this fighting and screaming and burning didn’t interrupt anyone’s sleep.
Gagging, Niuris fell back to the ground. Grabbing the amulet around his neck, he whispered softly.
“Olara, help your servant.”
Derek was no longer moving. Jenn glanced back at his prone form, then looked away in disgust. Death by fire was not a pretty sight, even for a vampire.
Gavin was stumbling around, clutching his face. He had managed to put out the flames, but not before being burned severely. Wounds made by fire were slow to regenerate.
Grabbing him by the shoulders, Galadrion guided Gavin to the ground. “Just stay here,” she said quietly, “There’s no need for you to be killed too.”
Then she walked over to where the others were gathered around Niuris. He had stopped struggling, and now looked up at them with a resigned expression on his face.
“Go on then,” he muttered, looking at Galadrion. “Kill me, or drain my blood, just get it over with.”
“Yes my dear,” came a voice from behind, “kill him.”
Olara stood behind them, leaning against the cliffside. She was dressed in the same shimmering black robe she had been wearing earlier. Her raven hair was held back by a delicate silver headpiece.
“It will save me the trouble of executing him for his incompetence,” she continued, glaring at Niuris.
Niuris began mumbling incoherently, begging forgiveness. Rolling her eyes, Olara made a gesture of dismissal.
“Go prepare for the ceremony,” she said impatiently. “And see if you can handle this without messing up.”
Rolling to his feet, Niuris walked swiftly back toward the nearby village.
Olara turned her attention back to the group before her. “Now this is rather unfair,” she complained. With a wave of her hand, suddenly Pynne and Whoo were visible once more.
“Much better.”
Nakor took a deep breath and began to recite the words to Olatha-shyre. There were only eight words he had to speak. He brought his hand up, palm facing Olara, and focussed all of his energy on casting this spell.
In the middle of his incantation, Nakor felt a sharp blow to the back of his head. He flew to the ground in a heap, and his vision went white for a moment. He blinked, trying to refocus his eyes.
“I’m sorry, Nakor,” whispered Galadrion.
He stared at her, in shock. Clutching the back of his head, Nakor tried to sit up. A wave of dizziness overcame him, and he fell back to the ground. “Why?” he asked.
Because PLOT TWIST!
Nakor could hear Olara laughing, despite the hazy state of his mind.
“Sleep, my friends,” Olara said, “for the moment, you must sleep.”
The last thing Nakor saw as he lost consciousness was his friends falling to the ground, overcome by Olara’s magic.
* * *
Jenn looked around the room. There was only one door, locked on the outside. The only window was barred, and too small for anyone to fit through anyway.
She sighed, depressed. Over and over, she watched in her mind as Galadrion stepped forward and struck Nakor in the head. Jenn felt betrayed and miserable. She had come to admire Galadrion, and now she had turned against them.
Jenn looked over to where Galadrion sat quietly in a corner. She and Galadrion were the only two who had recovered from Olara’s spell. Ever since waking up, Galadrion had been huddled in the corner, staring at the floor. Peering closer, Jenn saw the faint shine of tears on her cheeks.
Serves her right, Jenn thought angrily. That thought triggered a wave of fury that raced through her body. Finally, she walked over to where Galadrion was sitting.
“How could you?” she hissed.
Galadrion looked up at her. The pain in her eyes was terrible to see. Jenn’s anger began to fade.
“What could she give you that would make you do this?” Jenn demanded.
Galadrion just shook her head and looked back at the floor.
“Freedom,” Nakor’s voice said weakly from behind her. With a groan, he sat up and looked over at them.
“She offered to remove your curse, didn’t she?”
Galadrion just held her face in her hands and began to cry harder.
Your elf-pain is no match for my vampire-pain!
“I don’t get it,” Jenn complained. “What curse?” Her exasperation was obvious.
Nakor looked at her for a moment before deciding that Jenn had a right to know. Galadrion might be ashamed of it, but Jenn deserved to understand why a friend had betrayed her. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted.
“I’m a vampire,” Galadrion hissed. Suddenly she stood up and slammed her fist into a wall. Flakes of stone fell away where she had punched.
Jenn cocked her head in confusion. “So what?”
Galadrion stared at her, wide eyed. “So I can’t even go out in the sun without this charm Thomas gave to me!” she shouted, holding the necklace in one hand. “I go around murdering people and drinking their blood, and I can’t stop! I can’t die, I can’t get old, I can’t have children.” She was sobbing now.
“I’ve spent twenty-seven years this way. Twenty seven years of hell!”
Her voice got quiet. “I spend my life running from people who would destroy me. Religions condemn me for what I became. I had no choice.”
She sank back down into
the corner. “I had no choice,” she whispered again. “It could have happened to anyone.”
She looked over at Jenn. “It could have happened to you.”
Whoo and Pynne were both awake, and sat silently watching as Galadrion began crying again.
“She promised not to kill you,” Galadrion said, wiping away the tears. “She said she’d let you all go after she made sure you couldn’t use Olatha-shyre against her.”
“You were the one spying on us,” Nakor said quietly.
Galadrion nodded. “Olara found the bodies of Jaimus and Erik,” she said, looking at Jenn. “She came to me that morning while I was out gathering berries. She said if I didn’t help, she’d kill you all right then. But she wanted Olatha-shyre.”
“Olara was willing to let you live, and she promised to remove my curse. All I had to do was help her get that spell.”
Nakor closed his eyes. He had wondered if one of their group might be the spy. Now, his suspicions had been confirmed. “So why are you in here?” he asked.
But Nakor had kept those suspicions to himself, guarding them so closely that the author hadn’t really bothered to mention them.
Galadrion smiled slightly through the tears. “I was the first to wake up and find myself in here. Olara was standing over me.”
“Olara said that, as I had murdered her priests, I must suffer the same death as the rest of you.”
“That’s good,” Whoo commented, “It would be unfair for you to suffer a different death than the rest of us.”
Nakor winced as he stood up. “I just wish you hadn’t hit me so hard,” he complained.
Galadrion looked at him. “That was gentle.”
“Right,” he answered. Then he looked around the small cell.
“So, shall we get out of here?” Nakor asked.
Pynne rolled her eyes. “Actually, I like it here. I was hoping we could move in.”
“What about her?” Whoo asked, tilting his head in Galadrion’s direction.
Nakor walked over to where Galadrion sat. “She made a mistake,” he said, more to Galadrion than to Whoo. “But she’s still a friend.”
Sure, she betrayed me and stopped me from destroying an evil goddess and may have damned the world to an eternity of darkness, but who among us hasn’t?
