by E. C. Hibbs
The Lidérc snapped out his own wings and hissed. Frank snarled back, crouching in front of me protectively and quivering his wings.
“Not this time,” he growled, and the hand closest to me – the side with the dragonfly – snapped into a fist.
The demon curled his fingers until they became lethal claws. “Ignorant boy,” he sneered. “You honestly think a mere twenty-seven years can stand against me?”
Frank growled, leapt into the air, and then the two vampires smashed into each other in a flurry of wings and mist. Eyes glowed and flamed, both of them opening their mouths wide in the heat of their bloodlust, vicious snarls and hisses echoing all around. I felt as though my heart was going to burst out of my chest with fear. It was exactly what I hadn’t wanted: what I’d worked to avoid with all my might.
Frank’s white top stood out vividly against the blackness of the Lidérc’s, and he kept close, lashing out with his arms and legs. By staying near, it was easier for him to attack, and the risk of being overpowered was lower. But even though it was weaker than him in that respect, the demon was putting up a fight.
I forced myself to tear my eyes from the battle, and hit Michael hard on the shoulder again. He looked at me, startled.
“Help Emily!” I shouted, waving my arm in her direction. At the movement, drops of blood flew across the snow. To make sure he listened, I flashed my eyes red. “Go now!”
Above, Frank threw the Lidérc into the wall with such force, the stone cracked, sending a shower of dust down on my head. Michael flinched, sprinting towards Emily. She gasped out his name as he gathered her in his arms, hanging limply with her hair trailing down her back. Michael adjusted his grip on her, before shooting a final glance at the two vampires to gauge where they were, and then running back through the open door.
The demon saw them escape and roared. With the sound, the scar on my neck suddenly burned. I yelped and clamped a hand over it, but the pain vanished as quickly as it had arrived.
An ominous drag began to clench at my stomach. My pulse sped up and I quickly wiped at my brow. My eyes fell on the door, and I managed a smile as I imagined Michael running through the stone forest of the dead, with Emily. Safe.
A terrible cry rang out, and my attention snapped up, to find the whiteness of Frank’s top red and slick with blood. And it wasn’t the near-black blood that I knew ran in the demon’s veins. In my mind’s eye, I saw those long talons raking through the air, and across his warm skin in freezing fire.
Nothing could fill me with such fear as watching vampires come to blows – especially a harmless and a demon, with two completely different sets of powers. It was a true fight to the death. But if anything could slam that fear into the ground, I felt it then. Frank had been hurt. I saw the pain in his face. My heart pounded so hard, I trembled all over.
The demon laughed mockingly – then burst into flames. The sudden light after the darkness was blinding, and my eyes stabbed as though I’d stared into the sun. I spun away, screwing them shut against it. When I squinted back, I was relieved that despite the brightness, Frank hadn’t been further distracted to allow for another attack. The two were at each others’ throats again, the violence escalating.
I stared at the demon. The flame was cruel and merciless – yet his impeccable form remained, sprinkling a fiery rain onto the ground. His eyes stood out from the depths of it all, shining like nothing I’d ever seen before, and yet still as black as night. The flickering oranges and yellows crept up his wings, and the mist transformed a blood red.
Truly a Lidérc.
I remembered the power that his name held, and shouted it as loud as I could – over and over again – as though shooting bullets out of my mouth. He roared and jolted, and the fire died down a little. Frank quickly flew forward and punched him hard in the jaw. The flaming face snapped away with an infuriated snarl; then the world suddenly shook in front of my eyes.
I gasped, the stream of yells cut off. My head spun wildly, eardrums pounding. My vision tilted, and I felt the floor before it even registered that I’d collapsed. Horror numbly clenched at my insides, as I realised what was happening.
I shuddered violently and started to convulse, as though I was having a fit. I gasped for air and my hand snapped up involuntarily towards my face, knocking against the shaft of my cane with the movement. I saw through a pulsing haze. Beneath the film of blood on my hand and arm, all my veins had stood up – and the black venom was running under my skin, like some kind of grotesque lifelike bruise. The scar flared and my shoulders jolted. It hurt too much to even cry out.
The two vampires stopped in mid-air and looked over. For a tiny moment, both froze in alarm. Frank was the first to react and he shot towards me – the fastest I’d ever seen anything move – but the demon wasn’t far behind and grabbed him, throwing him back. Frank hit the wall hard, breath snapping from his lungs.
The pain reached the surface and I finally did scream. Forming individual words was beyond me, but even if I’d been able to speak, I would have yelled that I didn’t care which one of them got to me first. Even if it was the demon, so long as he killed me quickly. I would gladly give up everything I’d fought for in that one moment.
There was a sudden burst of flame. It passed through my mind that perhaps the Lidérc had fled – when I’d seen him leave in the past, there was that final fiery explosion up the walls. But it hadn’t been big enough for that. I managed to open my eyes, and the whole world was completely red as blood ran across my pupils. The edges of my vision narrowed, like an old TV set being turned off.
I was surrounded by a wall of fire. The heat licked at my skin. Any other time, how close I was would have been enough for me to cry out, but in the middle of coming of age, it felt just about as painful as pins and needles. Nothing compared to the throbbing in my arms... legs... chest... head... throat... and my shoulder blades! I could feel the wings, struggling to come through, just below the surface, like two hammers.
My scream heightened. I realised when the Lidérc appeared – stepping through the flames as calmly as ever – that he’d blown up the burning cage to keep Frank from getting to me.
He’d returned to normal – a near spitting image to our first meeting. The smirk was deeply-etched in triumph as he knelt down and lifted me onto his lap. If it was possible for my heart to pound any harder, it did as soon as he held me. It was as though my body had recognised on its own that my turner was there, so close – and the longing, that I’d suppressed for years, finally ruptured.
Unable to control myself anymore, I curled towards him. His blood seeped into my top, and mine streaked across his neck as I clutched at him, leaving a red smear on the gold ring.
Kill me! Please, make it stop! Make it end!
He smiled down at me, eyes shining – but for once, it was without the fire.
“Now you know, Bianka,” he whispered, “you cannot outrun a Lidérc.”
He moved his head forward slowly, as though he was going to kiss me. I shuddered brutally, fingers numbing as they rested on my cane. I could almost feel my nails turning blue. My pulse – which had sped up so quickly – began to fall. Every beat was further away than the last.
I heard Frank cry in despair; the sound like it was through water. Blood dripped onto the floor. I felt the demon’s freezing breath on my nose, lips so close...
Birch! I still had birch!
In a final huge effort, my hand snapped around my cane. I screamed – and thrust it upwards, spearing him cleanly through the chest with the broken shaft.
The shriek that ripped out of his mouth immediately toppled mine, and he snapped away, dropping me heavily. The hard floor hit the back of my head and I whimpered, but managed to keep my eyes open. The demon was kneeling in front of me, staring at the cane between his ribs. The silvery wood was on fire – but somehow not burning away – and he was holding his hands beside it, as though he couldn’t believe it was there.
The expression on his face was
one I hadn’t ever seen before, or known he was capable of. A mixture of shock, dumb pain, and horror. He tore his gaze from the cane and looked down at me. A line of dark blood dripped out of the corner of his mouth, running down his white chin.
A long moment drew around us, as though the passing world had stopped to watch. The fiery wall flickered and thinned. Jonathan Calvin bared his teeth, and in a dark moment, I thought he was going to lunge at me, but he didn’t.
Instead, his eyes glazed, and looked straight past me as the flames from the cane crept up around him. No longer his own; they began to burn his clothes and skin, as though he was made of nothing more than paper. He seemed to see something that – even if I’d have had the strength to look – would have been invisible to me.
He whispered, “Mirriam.”
As his irises transformed into a vivid blue, the flames overtook him, and it – he – collapsed next to me, hand falling over my wrist.
I stared blankly at the hole in the ceiling as the tremors slowed. I’d passed the threshold and the pain was receding, like an ebbing tide. But my turner was gone. In the back of my mind, it registered somewhere that he was dead.
I killed him. I... killed a Lidérc.
The fire dimmed and I couldn’t feel it anymore. But I didn’t know whether it was because it might have been dying down with him... or because I was so cold...
The spiralling black became infinite. I felt my body underneath me.
And then, in front of me – I saw Lucy.
CHAPTER XXIX
White. It was underneath, overhead, on every side and stretching away forever. It was solid under my feet, and open overhead, like a great sky. The brightest I’ve ever seen; it still didn’t blind me: clear, but I couldn’t see anything else.
I stood straight, without my cane; the top under my coat was blood-free. The wound in my hand was gone, and my skin was clean. A faint breeze picked up my hair. I cautiously put weight on my right leg – and there was some distant shock as it held.
Lucy stood in front of me, an arms’ length away. Her long hair rippled, and the pea coat waved, like it was suspended in water. Her cheeks were pink and her brown eyes sparkled. She smiled so wide that it seemed to lift us both into the air, and she was glowing, from the inside; some kind of ethereal glimmer.
“Hey, Miss Busy Bee,” she said. Her voice was like a bell, echoing all around us off the white nothing, full of light. I stared at her, but I wasn’t surprised or scared. Not at all.
“Luce?”
“Yep.” She took a step forward, and when she rested both of her hands on the tops of my arms, they were solid, warm, comforting. They were Lucy’s hands.
I couldn’t stop staring. For all the times I’d carried her in my mind, and tried to dream of her... she was in front of me. Her chest rose and fell as she breathed. Her eyes darted over me. Her teeth glistened as she smiled. She was real.
“I’ve been watching you,” she said.
I took a shaky breath. The air was wonderful, like it had been filtered so many times that it became the purest and crispest it could be – but at the same time, there was still a faint hint of something else. Roses and lavender.
I remembered in a second the years without her. I’d found it so hard to bring her to the forefront of my mind in some way that hadn’t been linked to her killer. But as those four simple words reached me, I realised and knew in my heart that it was true. She had always been there. Even when I hadn’t.
“You’ve done so well,” she carried on softly. “You’ve been so brave, Bee. I’m so proud of you.”
I shook my head. “I couldn’t save you.”
“You did save me. You gave me another day with you. It was the best thing I could have hoped for.”
“But I couldn’t stop him –”
“Hey, listen to me.” Lucy rubbed my shoulder comfortingly, her coat still waving in the breeze. “You did everything you could have possibly done, and you fought so hard. But it doesn’t matter what happened to me, Bee. The point is: you kept your promise. You have stopped him. And you saved Emmy. She’s safe because of you. And so many others are safe too. I can’t thank you enough for everything.”
She fixed me with a strong gaze. “Don’t you tell yourself for a moment longer that you failed me.”
I bit my lips together and looked down, twiddling my thumbs. It felt so strange to not be holding my cane. And no blood filled my mouth. My teeth were alarmingly blunt, like a human’s.
After only a few seconds, Lucy slipped her fingers under my chin and raised my head up. Over her shoulders, I saw two figures emerging out of the whiteness, walking hand in hand. Tears rolled down my cheeks and my heart swelled, until I thought it will burst out of me.
“Anya? Apa?”
My parents nodded, huge smiles on their faces. They paused just behind Lucy, and I didn’t even try to contain a beam of happiness. Anya wore her favourite blouse, painted in a traditional Hungarian floral motif; Apa, his typical ensemble of baggy jeans and striped polo shirt. I could see one of the arms of his reading glasses hanging over the hem of the breast pocket.
And behind them still, more silhouettes came: twelve of them. All young women; all with features like Lucy; and all dressed in different clothes, standing in a line that seemed to transcend over a century. I saw Janka Kováks in her tie-die top and corduroys; Nusi Görög in her yellow day dress. I could trace the individual decades in their clothing, right back to the mid-19th century: worn by a pretty blonde girl in her early twenties – Mirriam Takács.
I realised with a jolt that I stood before every single one of Jonathan Calvin’s victims. I could recognise them from their photographs, all just as I had seen them.
All of them raised their hands and waved to me, great smiles on their lips, and their eyes shining. Like Lucy, they – and Apa and Anya – they all glowed with that strange inner light. A sweet breeze blew past me and through me, and I felt full of calm.
“We are all free now,” Lucy said, her voice just above a crystal whisper. “And so are you.”
I glanced from her, to Anya to Apa, to Mirriam and all the other girls. It was too much to take in at once, as my loved ones and all who had gone before came to greet me. The tears spilled over and I held my hands to my eyes. I could almost feel Lucy smiling sympathetically as she gently patted my arm, the gesture like a miniature sun.
“Don’t cry, darling,” Anya said, and then her arms were around me. At the same time, Apa rested his steady, warm hand on the crown of my head. They murmured words of comfort, and melted through into my heart.
“You’re all so beautiful,” I managed to say.
Anya stroked my neck gently and kissed me on the forehead, before I looked up to see her and Apa slowly retreating back. The women gave me one last smiling glance before they disappeared into the nothing, all in the order I knew they had left life. Anya and Apa followed, blowing me a kiss each. I wasn’t sad to see them go. There was only serenity and acceptance. A better place awaited them, and all of the others. A place of freedom.
The last to leave was Mirriam. She gave me a single solemn nod, and I saw her lips shape a word:
“Köszönöm.” Thank you.
Both Lucy and I watched as she turned away, towards a lone silhouetted male figure in the bright forever. She gently took him by the hand, and they vanished, leaving Lucy and I alone once more.
“I feel so sorry for him,” I whispered. “He never asked to be what he was.”
Lucy didn’t move for a second – still gazing at the spot where Mirriam and Jonathan disappeared – but when she looked back at me, I was surprised to see a different kind of gleam in her eyes. It looked like two stars had fallen into them.
I sighed, and then glanced down at myself, searching for my own unearthly glow. “So, I suppose this is it, then. Right?”
Lucy blinked, gently cocking an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
“Well, am I dead?”
To my shock, she shook her head. H
er smile was unfaltering, and shining, like the sun.
“No. You’re not.”
I stared at her. “But... I can’t have survived that. I must be dead. I came of age; he didn’t bite me.”
“You’re not dead,” Lucy said again, holding my hand warmly. “You don’t belong here yet, Bee. Your place is still where you are. You still have people to love you, and people for you to love. You still have your life to live.”
I shook my head slowly, and tightened my grip on her. “I can’t be.”
Lucy softly rubbed the back of my hand with her thumb. “You don’t need to cry for me anymore,” she muttered, and her voice filled me with assurance and love.
Another tear fell from my eye. “I don’t want to lose you again.”
“You won’t. I promise. We will see each other again. And I’ll be there to take you with me next time. But not today.”
She stepped forward and hugged me. I held her tight, as though I could somehow pull her into me and never let go. I’d never wanted anything so bad – and yet I was willing. I knew that this would be our final farewell for as long as I still drew breath, but I was filled with the greatest peace, and such acceptance that I never thought anyone could feel it. I would see her again, and Anya, and Apa.
I’d never truly believed in heaven, but I knew that once I got there – in my own time, when my life came full circle – I would be with them all again. And there would be no more goodbyes, ever again.
Lucy shone like an angel.
“I will always be with you,” she whispered in my ear, as the perfect whiteness swallowed me.
CHAPTER XXX
I was ready to leave.
It was only Lucy’s sending me back that made me drift down, and gradually become more and more aware of the feeling of gravity; of the cold seeping of snow soaking into clothes; of strong, warm arms supporting a body that belonged to me.
