“I don’t know. But I took that risk. Again.”
“You did what was right for Teilo. And what had to be done for Ethan.”
“I know.”
“Trust yourself, Simon,” she said.
They were on their way to hunt in the human lands. Simon usually went on his own, but Fiona had offered to accompany him, and he wanted company just then. She and Kele usually hunted together, but they had argued the evening before. Probably their relationship was ending. Seventy-five years was long to stay with the same Vampyre. They’d no doubt end things amicably, but for now the cracks in their pairing were showing. She needed time away from Kele.
It was good that spring had finally arrived. Humans began sleeping with windows open. Not that a closed window was a safeguard against Vampyre Faeries: getting in through a window was more convenient than sliding under doors.
They went together into a window and found a couple asleep. Simon raised an eyebrow in question.
“I’m not in the mood for a man tonight,” Fiona said.
He smiled and landed on the man’s shoulder. Fiona flitted to the woman’s outstretched wrist, a huge vein pulsing near the surface. The man’s snoring stopped briefly as Simon bit, but both Humans were soundly asleep; they barely registered the tiny teeth invading their skin.
Fiona drank robustly, and Simon finished before she did. He suspected she wanted to be in fighting trim for some unsettled business with Kele. He didn’t ask. It wasn’t polite in their society to ask questions about relationships. They existed in such a tight group, and Simon, as leader, often had to arbitrate, so he didn’t like to have feelings one way or the other.
It might have been difficult had he any feelings toward Fiona, but she’d never been more than a musician to him. She respected him, but had no interest in one she saw as a boy. He wondered if music was enough to make her stay. She preferred more ancient Vampyres, and he thought she might want to seek out someone of another coven. She wasn’t the sort to go off on her own. She’d always loved the lands across the sea.
They parted company after they fed. Fiona was visiting a friend from another coven before returning to face Kele. Simon had business to attend to before he relaxed.
6
Flynn moped on the may wart plant. In two weeks school would finish for summer. With the nights shortening, everyone wanted to have as much useful time as possible in the dark. While some few enjoyed a forest dance in the late day sun among the pollen and spores, most kept themselves scarce during the hot hours of daylight lest Humans see one too many of the Faery to dismiss as dust motes in the forest.
Flynn couldn’t wait until the last day. It would be his last day of school ever, and he was expected to find an apprenticeship. His father didn’t seem to care what sort he chose, and even suggested he seek something with the Celestials or the Benevolents since Flynn had no interest in medicine. His mother hoped he’d do something in herb remedies, since her people came from that field.
He attended school with Faeries of other clans, sitting in the same may wart grove Teilo had studied in. Professor Mugwart had finally retired just before Flynn started that level of education. He didn’t realize how lucky he was that Professor Fern now taught the teenage Faeries. She was a petite and proper Faery with reddish hair and large brown eyes that took on the shape of saucers if someone gave a truly ridiculous answer. She couldn’t understand how anyone could be less than thrilled to learn.
When classes ended for the day, Flynn flitted home. He’d been thinking about nothing but Vampyres since he met with Simon. He’d wondered how Simon had been so misled as to think he wasn’t serious about becoming a Vampyre. Surely they joked?
At dinner that night he brought up the subject of his apprenticeship.
“You know I like music. I think I’m good enough to perform in public.”
“I thought it might come to that,” his father replied. His brother and sister who still lived at home regarded him curiously.
“So, it’s not to be herbs?” his mother asked. He wondered how she could have ever thought it would be.
“The thing is,” Flynn said, licking his lips, “I have this opportunity.”
“An opportunity?” his father asked.
“Yes. You know I like Shauna Faun. I’ve been to their concerts. Well, I met their leader, Simon. He’s willing to let me audition.”
“With Shauna Faun?” his father asked, fear apparent in his voice as he stood up. Why did all parents react this way?
“What’s wrong with Shauna Faun?”
“What do you know about them?”
“They’re musicians,” Flynn said, unwilling to disclose his knowledge. “What do you know about them?”
“Folk say they’re evil.”
“Folk say? If I gave you that excuse, you’d throw it away as foolishness. What have they done that’s evil? Or do you think music itself is evil?”
“No. There’s something. I don’t know what.”
“I have to throw away what I want because of something you can’t even define?”
“Until I find out more about them, I can’t give my consent.”
“I’ve made up my mind. I’ll be a musician if it means leaving the family forever.”
“There’s no cause to leave forever,” his mother said.
“I will if I have to.”
“So, you care nothing for your family?” his father asked.
“I care as much for my family as they care for me,” he replied and left the house.
He approached the concert grove and sat looking at the empty stage. He could imagine himself there, playing with Shauna Faun.
On a whim, he fluttered onto the stage. He strutted and looked out to where the audience would be. He waved and said thank you, bowed and started singing.
“You need a better voice than that for a concert here,” came Simon’s voice. The startled youth jumped, his look stricken as Simon fluttered down from a tree branch.
“I – I didn’t expect you.”
“Didn’t you?” Simon asked.
“Why would I?”
“We were supposed to meet if you were interested in joining Shauna Faun. So, did I misinterpret your coming here?”
Flynn stood tall on the stage and looked seriously at Simon. “No, you didn’t misinterpret. I want to be part of your group.”
“What about your family?”
“My parents want me to apprentice doing something. When I mentioned Shauna Faun, my dad started on that vague ‘I’ve heard they’re evil’ thing. But they always thought I’d live with one of the other clans.”
“You understand it’s not an immediate or a definite thing. First, you would be a thrall – your apprenticeship, if you will. If things work as you now think you wish them to, and if you can play music to our standards, you will become Shauna Faun.”
“Where do we start?”
“First, I think I should speak with your parents, as any decent master would do.”
Flynn looked troubled. “You’re going to tell my parent’s you’re planning on making me a Vampyre?”
Simon laughed. “Of course not. But we should meet. It isn’t some clandestine thing where I spirit you away. They have to know I’m safe.”
“Teilo said you’re not.”
“He was wise to remember. That is true, but do we want to tell your parents that?”
“I see your point.”
“There are always issues parents need to feel they can control. Once they meet me and see I’m not evil –”
“Will you mesmerize them to make them believe that?”
“No. I am honest – for the most part. I will tell them only what I can tell them honestly. Call it artifice if you wish, but folk can’t handle too much truth. You needn’t worry: if they learn our true nature, it won’t be from me.”
“Well, I’m certainly not going to tell them. When will this happen?”
“I can see them at any time you wish.”
; “Will you thrall me tonight?”
“No. I must speak to your parents. If there is no impediment, I will thrall you.
“But what if my father doesn’t approve?”
“I can be – persuasive.”
“You mean you’ll bite him?”
“You still think as a child. When does school end?”
“School? What difference –”
“Flynn, do you understand that I am the coven leader?”
“Okay, but –”
“Okay,” Simon mimicked. “That means I make the choice.”
Flynn let out a breath. “At the next full moon.”
“Thank you. I will come to see your father about your apprenticeship. Once school has ended – ”
“Why do I need to finish school?”
“Because it is expected. And if this particular apprenticeship doesn’t work –”
“Like Teilo?”
“Teilo is a master of his craft. Do not bring Teilo into this! It was his choice not to join us. And part of his job involved handling fire, which a Vampyre cannot do.”
“I thought you were the master.”
“I am. I allowed him to choose. But the musicians must be Vampyres. There is no compromise on that score.”
“You won’t have any argument from me. I want to become a Vampyre.”
“All will happen in due course. Finish your schooling and I will see to things.”
Suddenly he was gone, and Flynn stood alone on the stage.
7
The evening was warm a few weeks later as Flynn and his family finished dinner. Mr. Whitethorn was a robust older Faery, fond of a good meal. He pushed back from the table, a satisfied smile on his face. He was about to tell his family about his day as he usually did after dinner, when someone knocked on the door. Everyone looked surprised but Flynn. His sister, Ella answered the door. She looked curiously at the dark-haired Faery with the long coat standing outside the door. He smiled.
“Hello. My name is Simon Mallow. I wish to speak to Mr. Whitethorn.”
“Come in,” she said, smiling. He stepped inside the door – unlike Teilo’s family, Flynn’s didn’t keep a medallion on the door.
Mr. Whitethorn approached him. “Yes, sir? What can I do for you? Sit,” he said, indicating a chair. Simon sat.
“I understand that your son, Flynn wants to be apprenticed as a musician.”
“And you are, sir?” Mr. Whitethorn asked.
“I am Simon Mallow, leader of Shauna Faun.”
Mr. Whitethorn started. “You are of Shauna Faun?”
“Yes,” Simon replied with a smile. “Flynn came to me after a concert and asked to join us. I haven’t yet heard him play, nor do I know whether or not he has the skill, but if he is able to perform well enough, and if this is amenable to you, I would be willing to take him on as an apprentice.”
Mr. Whitethorn was taken aback. He hadn’t expected someone to approach him. And for a member of Shauna Faun to make the approach startled him. There were rumors and mysteries surrounding the band. Now that Simon sat before him looking pale but confident – and a few years younger than Mr. Whitethorn expected – he didn’t quite know what to make of it. This young man looked harmless. He seemed to know what he was about. And he looked Mr. Whitethorn in the eye as he spoke, a mark of honesty in Mr. Whitethorn’s book.
“You don’t find him lazy?”
“I haven’t worked with him yet,” Simon admitted. “Don’t let my looks deceive you; I’ll put him through his paces. There is nothing frivolous in music. I was trained by a bard, so I know what it takes to do well.”
“He says he wants to join your band. I must say, I have heard whisperings.”
“Yes, I’m sure you have. They seem to follow us everywhere. Yet, what have we done? Do you know of a single Faery anywhere that we have harmed? Still, there are those who claim we are evil.”
“I see no evil about you,” Mr. Whitethorn admitted.
“Mr. Mallow, can I offer you some refreshment?” asked Mrs. Whitethorn, a slight, shy woman with graying brown hair and warm brown eyes.
“Thank you, no. I just came from dinner.”
She retreated, grinning like a schoolgirl.
“I did insist that he could not be apprenticed until school finished. He seemed to think school was unimportant to a musician. But I assure you, all of us have finished schooling, and it was quite necessary. It will be difficult work and we want no slackers.”
“Well, then, having spoken to you, I see no impediment to my agreeing to you apprenticing him if he meets your standards,” Mr. Whitethorn said.
“I will have him audition for me tomorrow evening, and if his skill is sufficient, I’ll draw up the contract for you to sign.”
“There is –” Mr. Whitethorn said, pausing. Simon knew what was coming. He’d been through this bother with Teilo’s father. “There is the fee to consider.”
“And what fee do you consider fair?” Simon asked, closing his eyes. The Vampyres didn’t need the money. “Name your price, and I will agree to it.”
“Oh, I would imagine it would depend on how long the apprenticeship lasts.”
“A year, perhaps two. Let us plan on a year. If more is required, we can make whatever negotiations are suitable.”
“What would you consider fair?” Mr. Whitethorn asked.
“Mr. Whitethorn, money isn’t a concern to me. I know you may find that odd. But if you would insist on paying for the apprenticeship, I will considered whatever price you say to be a fair one.”
Whitethorn was puzzled. He considered the hard bargain he’d had to drive with his son, Gareth’s master. They’d haggled for hours. In the end they’d both felt slightly cheated, but Gareth was now a journeyman doctor. He spoke a figure somewhat less than what he’d settled on Gareth, knowing he was abusing Simon’s kindness. Simon agreed. When he looked at Flynn he saw the boy’s mouth hanging open. Simon grinned at him.
“That sort of face would not do well on stage,” Simon teased.
With business concluded, Simon left them, leaving Flynn to wonder at folk who cared nothing for money.
Flynn arrived the next evening at the concert stage with harp, flute and hornpipe.
“Three instruments? I’m impressed,” Simon said. “Let’s see what you can do.”
He played each, even singing while playing harp. He impressed Simon with his musical abilities. This was the first light Faery in fifty years Simon had heard who appeared in any way worthy of joining Shauna Faun. And it wasn’t simply his prejudice showing: the boy truly was talented.
“Your voice is fair as well,” Simon said.
“Am I good enough?”
“Not yet, but you have the potential. What I told your father about your apprenticing wasn’t just a story. You need to learn more about music.”
Flynn looked at Simon. “So, will you bite me now?”
Simon’s mouth curved up. “It doesn’t work that way. You have talent. I can make you better. When you finish your apprenticeship you will become a full Vampyre.”
Flynn looked disappointed.
“Once I sign the contract with your father I wish to make one with you.”
“With me?”
“A blood oath. You will be a thrall. That will be our bond. So think well. Tomorrow evening I will sign your father’s contract and then you will come with me.”
“Will I live at the cave?” Flynn asked.
Simon chuckled. “No. Only Vampyres stay there. Even Lana resides elsewhere.”
“Lana?”
“The receptionist. We had another but she unfortunately died several years ago.”
“Did one of the Vampyres kill her?”
“No. It was a Human kill. I doubt the Human was even aware. She was ancient, though. She fit most folks’ idea of the sort of crone who would meet you at a bat cave.”
Flynn laughed. “A bat cave?”
“Someone once called it that, assuming we could become bats. W
e cannot.”
“Can Human Vampyres?”
“I doubt it. It isn’t our nature to transform. So many myths swirl around us.”
Flynn thought that over and asked where he would live.
“You will live with your family until your apprenticeship is complete.”
“How do I become a thrall?”
“You take a blood oath. I will take some of your blood.”
“Will it hurt?”
Simon shrugged. “So much worry about pain, and yet you wish to become one of us? Everything carries with it some amount of pain. If pain will keep you from being a thrall, end the charade now, for you’ll never become a Vampyre.”
8
Flynn waited with some trepidation for Simon to come. As soon as he’d told his father he had passed the audition, Mr. Whitethorn had drawn up the papers for Simon to sign. Flynn had no appetite, but went through the motions of eating. He knew his mother would complain if he turned down her food. He wished he had a pet, as he’d heard some Human children had, so he could feed it surreptitiously under the table.
Finally, the torture of dinner was over. As Mrs. Whitethorn finished putting away the last of the cutlery and dishes, Simon knocked on the door. Mr. Whitethorn greeted him and they sat at the table to review the terms of their bargain.
Once Simon was satisfied that everything was complete, he signed his name, Mr. Whitethorn signed his, and Flynn also signed.
“Now, join me in a drink to seal the bargain,” Mr. Whitethorn said.
Flynn looked at Simon, wondering what he would do. He was shocked when Simon nodded in agreement. How could a Vampyre drink wine?
Simon reached into the inside pocket of his coat and palmed a tiny flask. Mr. Whitethorn returned with three goblets and handed them around. As he turned back to his chair, Simon quickly poured the contents of the flask into his goblet and dropped the flask back into his pocket.
“To Flynn’s success in Shauna Faun,” Mr. Whitethorn said.
“To Flynn’s success in Shauna Faun,” Simon echoed.
Flynn watched Simon bring the goblet to his lips and appear to drink. He didn’t seem to have any difficulty, and when he put the goblet down, Flynn stood and collected them. He was anxious to see whether or not Simon had actually taken in any of the liquid. He was surprised to see that Simon’s goblet was as empty as his own and his father’s.
Dark Faery II: The Mercifuls (DarkFaery Book 2) Page 3
