A Shade of Vampire 35

by Bella Forrest

  “Do you need the bathroom?” Julian prompted. I’d barely noticed that we’d reached our destination.

  “Oh, yeah,” I murmured and hurried inside—for once eager to get the day started.

  After Julian and I had scarfed down a quick breakfast, we retraced our steps to the huge and disused chamber that we’d come across weeks ago in our search for Hazel—whom we’d believed was being locked away in the towers somewhere against her will.

  We were unable to locate Jenney that morning, so, taking matters into our own hands, we decided that room was our best bet. It had been filled with broken furniture and large, dusty chests—we hoped that some form of weaponry might be contained within them. Rusty and broken swords would be fine for training purposes until we could get our hands on newer blades.

  “I think this is it.” Julian pointed toward a large door ahead of us.

  Though we’d only come across the door in the gloom of night previously, there was something familiar about the large, ornate doorknob and the peeling varnish of its wood.

  Julian pushed against it, and the door creaked open. We slipped inside after checking to be sure no one was following us—so far we seemed to have free rein over the castle, but I didn’t want to test that theory.

  Inside we saw our old footprints—the only evidence of anyone entering the room in years—crossing the room to the equally large door on the other side. We surveyed the ramshackle mess of the room, and, mixed in with the furniture, broken wood and sheet-covered paintings, there were four chests that looked promising.

  “I’ll take this one”—I pointed to the largest chest near us, and then pointed again to the second largest in size at the other end of the room—“and you take that one.”

  There was a large bolt on the chest, but no padlock to hold it in place. I bent the metal of the lock back and heaved it open.

  I sighed.

  “Nothing here but sheets,” I alerted Julian with disgust. “Sheets and blankets.”

  I heard Julian heaving open his chest, and then only silence followed.

  “What is it?” I asked, alerted by the lack of response.

  “You’ve got to come and see this,” Julian whispered, his voice filled with awe.

  I hurried over and peered into the chest. Then blinked. It was full to the brim with gold objects—chalices, headpieces, pots, small figurines—and below them lay hundreds and hundreds of gold pieces.

  “Wow,” I whispered.

  Julian let out a low whistle.

  I picked up one of the pieces, and held it up to the light that streamed in through the windows. It was minted with strange symbols that almost looked like runes, but were more likely an early form of letters, although they weren’t written in any discernible order. I could only recognize one symbol, and that was a dagger, centered in the middle of the coin.

  “These look really old,” Julian marveled. “I wonder how long sentries have been living here?”

  I shrugged. “No idea, but these are medieval… but then again, this whole place feels like it’s stuck in the Dark Ages…”

  I tossed the coin back in the chest. It was an interesting find, but it didn’t get us any closer to the weapons we were looking for.

  “I’m taking some,” Julian whispered, looking around the room shiftily as he shoved the gold into his pocket.

  “That’s stealing!” I admonished, though I felt kind of ridiculous doing so. We had been kidnapped after all.

  “Stealing off sentries—I really don’t have a problem with it,” he retorted.

  It was fair enough, but I didn’t feel comfortable taking anything myself. With the stone dream never far from my mind, I was wary about picking up things in this castle that didn’t belong to me.

  “Let’s look in the other chests,” I suggested, already moving to the two other chests we hadn’t explored yet. I opened one, and then accidentally dropped the lid with a thunderous thwack as I realized it contained musty-smelling clothing.

  “Keep it down!” Julian hissed at me, jangling like a janitor as he walked over, his pockets bulging with coins.

  I ignored him and opened the next one.

  Finally.

  “Bingo!” I announced, and lifted a broadsword by the hilt. It looked like it was made of bronze, and so old and used there were chips in the blade. But it was good enough.

  Julian peered over the top of the chest.

  “Awesome,” he exhaled, leaning in to pick up a large mace.

  “Okay.” I put down the sword. “There’s easily enough weapons in there for all of us—but how are we going to get them past the guards and into the living quarters?”

  Julian looked about the room, and his eyes lighted on the first chest I’d seen, still standing open.

  “We can wrap what we need in blankets, just tell the guards that it’s extra bedding, if they even ask,” he replied.

  It seemed like a good plan. We took out fifteen swords, and I persuaded Julian to put the mace back. We put them into piles of three swords each, and rolled them up tightly into the blankets. Once we were finished I loaded up Julian’s arms with as many as he could carry, and took the rest myself. Our piles were so high we could barely see over them, but we managed to open the doors and slowly made our way back to the rooms, both alert and tense that we might be stopped at any moment.

  Miraculously, we didn’t come across any ministers or castle staff, and I breathed a sigh of relief when we saw the guards standing outside our living quarters.

  “You all right with those?” one of them asked kindly, but with bewilderment.

  “Yeah, fine,” I squeaked, “just extra bedding for the kids.”

  “Jenney gave it to us,” Julian joined in.

  The guard nodded, nonplussed, and opened the doors to let us inside.

  We did it!

  As soon as the doors closed behind us I grinned at Julian, our eyes alight with our unexpected success.

  “All right,” Julian announced to the room of listless kids, “we’ve got work to do today.”

  They stared back at us, uninspired and tired-looking. I found it difficult to believe that any of these children could have been much help to the sentries—they didn’t look like they had any energy in them whatsoever. I felt that Hell Rakers might have been too optimistic a name for our current band of warriors.

  “We’re going to start training,” I continued, taking over from Julian as he started to unwrap our loot. “The sentries have had the upper hand long enough. We don’t know for sure if Ash or Tejus will get us out of here, so we need to take matters into our own hands. We’re starting a secret society—we’re going to dedicate ourselves to preparing for an all-out battle with the sentries.”

  Some of the children gasped and looked horrified, cowering behind each other as if a stampede of blood-thirsty sentries were going to come bursting through the door at any minute.

  “Look, it might not come to that,” I reassured them hastily. “This is more of a protective measure, so that we’re all ready for anything. We’re going to call ourselves the Hell Rakers—and we’re going to be a force to be reckoned with.”

  “What, like that stupid game?” Yelena piped up. Apparently Yelena had heard of our favorite video game.

  “No!” I retorted angrily. Trust her to ruin everything. “Well, a bit like that—but it’s a good name.”

  She shrugged at my outburst and wrinkled her nose. “Whatever. Seems a bit stupid to me. How exactly are we going to do all this preparation?”

  “With these,” Julian said, brandishing one of the more impressive-looking swords in our armory.

  The kids oohed in wonder as the sword glinted in the light. Even Yelena looked marginally impressed, and stopped her whining for a few brief seconds.

  “We’re going to train in one of the deserted courtyards,” I said. “Julian and I can wield a sword, and we’ll show you guys how to do it too.”

  There was a lot of muttering from the kids, and I felt a wave o
f frustration. We were trying to empower them—you’d think they’d be a bit more excited.

  “Everyone get a sword,” I commanded. “There’s more than enough. If you’re small, go for one of the shorter ones.”

  They all lined up wordlessly now, and Julian handed out the swords one by one till everyone was armed.

  Instantly there was a shrill shriek as one of the boys poked another.

  “No messing around!” Julian yelled at them. “They might look old but they’re still lethal. No waving them around until we’re in the practice yard.”

  Finally, each of the kids stood in the living room, armed, but certainly not deadly. At least they’d stopped treating it all like it was some game. They all stared back at Julian and me with wide eyes and solemn expressions.

  Luckily, we were all wearing old sentry robes or loose jackets given to us by the servants—all large enough to conceal the weaponry till we found an appropriate place to practice.

  “Right, all form a line, and place your weapons, carefully, inside your cloaks. We need to be able to get past the guards and any other—”

  Julian broke off as Jenney entered the room, carrying a laundry basket and looking at us with an incredulous expression.

  “What in the name of Nevertide are you all doing?” she asked.

  “Um…” Julian flushed and lowered his sword down by his side as if it was nothing more out of the ordinary than a tennis racket. “Well, we thought we might try some sword training, in case we come up against the sentries, so we’re prepared…” He trailed off into silence.

  I sighed.

  “Jenney, we’re forming an anti-sentry group—in case Ash or Tejus go back on their word,” I explained. “You need to promise that you won’t tell them what we’re doing.”

  “Right,” said Jenney, looking more and more perplexed by the second, “but what do you think you’re going to be able to do with swords against the sentries and their powers? They’ll just give you such a bad headache that you’ll crumble, crying, to the floor.”

  I looked at Julian, who blushed an even deeper shade of red. I guessed we’d been kind of stupid.

  “Well—it’s the best we’ve got,” I reasoned. “We don’t have mind powers, so there’s little else we can do.”

  Jenney stood silent for a moment, then put down the basket.

  “There are ways you can… strengthen your mind against them, like putting up blocks so they find it harder to get a grasp on you. Obviously it doesn’t make a difference with a really powerful sentry, one who’s determined to suck the life out of you, but it can be a deterrent against someone who’s not that focused—like in battle, or something,” she replied. “I can help you if you like?”

  I glanced at Julian, who looked interested.

  “All right,” I said, “that could be good. But I think we should do sword fighting as well.”

  Mind-blocking and sword fighting combined would be a deterrent for sure. And plus, I wasn’t willing to admit that my and Julian’s plan had been completely hopeless… while we were stuck in this weird dimension, we needed all the help we could get.

  Benedict

  Jenney’s methods of mind strengthening had been exhausting. At first I’d been skeptical—when she’d explained it to us it had sounded pretty easy, more like meditation than anything else, but the actual practice had been near impossible. Trying to empty our minds of everything and focus on one item or thought was a lot more difficult than it sounded. Julian had given up halfway through and stormed off to our bedroom to practice some sword moves, but I had continued, despite my fatigue and my own frustrations with the exercise.

  I had an ulterior motive above just mind strengthening. I thought that maybe, if I mastered the art of clearing my mind, I might be able to send away the nightmares that had been a constant issue since Julian and I had stumbled across that narrow corridor in the castle. Every time I went to sleep, it was there… waiting for me.

  Tonight I felt the same cold dread I did every night. Everyone else had long since begun to sleep, and I could hear the gentle snoring or soft mumbles drifting from the living room into the bedroom that Julian and I shared.

  Julian slept like a log. I envied his dreamless sleep—there was enough going on in our day-to-day lives in Nevertide without spending my dreams here too.

  Staring at the ceiling, I tried to practice what Jenney had taught us earlier in the day. I breathed in for five counts, and out for five again. It left me feeling a bit lightheaded, but I repeated it, trying to focus on the flame of a candle that she’d placed in front of each of us earlier. I could picture it clearly, and tried to train my mind to focus on that alone. I felt my eyelids grow heavy, and exhaustion washed over me. Eventually I succumbed to it, and drifted off.

  Once again I was walking slowly down a darkened corridor, my heart thundering in my chest and my skin prickling with cold fear. It was a different corridor this time—larger, less obscured from the rest of the castle.

  Vulture heads smirked down at me from the walls, laughing at me, the blank bone sockets of their eyes gleaming with malice.

  There was hardly any moonlight—clouds shrouded all but a tiny glimmer, and there were no stars peering from the night sky. I kept walking, wanting with all my heart to turn back, but knowing that I must go on, driven against my will by some unknown entity that controlled every step I took, closer and closer to the large doors at the end of the corridor.

  When I reached the doors, my trembling hand shot out, my palm resting on the cold, dead wood.

  No, please, no. I don’t want to go in there!

  But my hand pushed against the groaning weight, and eventually the door opened wide enough for me to see inside. I stood trembling, rooted to the spot and unable to take another step.

  I knew where I was.

  All the furniture had been covered in dust sheets, but I recognized the layout of the room from when the servants had escorted Ruby here. We’d only had a brief glimpse as she was ushered in and we were moved on to our own sentries, but I was sure, on seeing the huge scythe at the far end of the room, that these quarters had once belonged to Danto.

  A breeze blew in from the largest window, serving as a grotesque reminder of how he had met his end.

  I hesitated at the door, my fear and desire to turn away fighting with the horrid, sick feeling of being pulled into the room. I wanted to slam the door shut behind me and never venture to this part of the castle again.

  Unable to enforce my own will, I took a step into the room, and then another. It felt like someone was watching me as I stood alone in the room, the breeze rustling the tapestries on the wall, making them whisper dark thoughts to me.

  My gaze became fixed on the stone floor. An embroidered rug lay over it, worn with age. In the middle of the rug there was a slight rise, one I wouldn’t have noticed had it not been for the strong urge I felt to look at it—as if it were the only thing in the room.

  I walked over to the edge of the rug and pulled it up from the corner. It was heavy and dusty, but I drew it back as far as I could and saw that where the rise had been, there was a wooden trap door built into the floor.

  It had no lock, and I pulled at the iron ring to lift it. It opened easily, and I knew, without understanding why, that the trapdoor had been waiting for me—maybe for thousands of years… waiting for me to come and open it.

  Steep steps led from the entrance down to the gloom beneath, but beyond that I could see the faint glow of sickly greens and pinks and reds.

  The stones.

  They called to me like they had in the corridor where I’d first come across them, their dancing light beckoning me forward so I had no other choice but to follow. I walked slowly down the steps, my legs feeling like they were about to collapse beneath me and my breath coming out in ragged gasps.

  Please…

  I offered up a silent plea—more than anything in the world I wanted to get the hell out of there. But my body kept moving forward, and even
tually I was faced with another wall inlaid with the eerie, glowing stones.

  Just like before, one of them started to shake and hum with energy, worming its way out of its socket and falling to the floor. It rolled toward me, slowly but still vibrating, as if it was some fat slug withering on a pile of salt.

  No!

  With everything I had, I fought the urge to bend down and pick it up. The whispers from the room grew louder—now they were like a deafening high-pitched whine in my ears, coursing through my temples.

  Run! Run, NOW!

  I turned, hands covering my ears, and ran back up the steps. Back in the room I slammed the trapdoor shut, and, without bothering to conceal it again with the rug, I pulled at the door.

  The hallway lay ahead of me, now moonlit and brighter than it had been before. I could see torches burning off in the distance. I was safe… I was safe.

  My stomach lurched, and the floor came up to meet me.

  I came to with a start, gasping for air as if I’d just been submerged underwater. I could feel the sweat pouring down my back, and slowly became aware of my surroundings—the pinky glow of sunrise just starting, and the familiar walls of our living quarters. I was now standing—standing over Yelena, who lay fast asleep, tossing fitfully. The strangest thing was that my arms were stretched out , palms down… hovering over her body.

  What the hell am I doing?

  Hastily I placed them back by my sides.

  “Benedict?”

  I looked up to where the voice had come from. Jenney stood by the door to the servants’ quarters, staring at me.

  “What are you doing?” she asked softly.

  “Nothing,” I replied hastily. “What are you doing, snooping around?”

  She raised an eyebrow at me, looking stunned at my rude reply.

  “Well, I’m collecting the bloody laundry, if you must know, because it doesn’t look like anyone else around here is going to do it!”