A plate of food was sitting in front of him. A few pieces of red meat, pickles, and beans.
"Most of it is leftovers from dinner, I'm afraid. Just some smoked meat and, well, they do a lot of canning here, so we have plenty of canned beans and pickles."
"It looks delicious," he murmured.
"You really are famished."
"Yes, I am."
"You'll be tired of canned food soon enough." She set a mug of tea before him as well.
Kyrian took a bite. "Are you going to join me?"
"I'm not hungry." The young woman sat down at the end of the table and watched him eat. She was remarkably beautiful, with fine features, and a slight frame. He was feeling a little self-conscious about gobbling down the food. "Now then," she smiled, "what temple were you an acolyte in?"
"Um, Temple of the Moon in Yetta. Just outside the graveyard there."
"The moon? Forgive me, but you're wearing an amulet of the sun."
"Oh, yes. I was going to study at the Temple of the Sun in Kings Basin ... but it burned to the ground."
"Didn't the Temple of the Moon burn to the ground as well?"
Kyrian wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and then regretted being quite so common in front of her. What was it Opal had said about manners? "Yes. An assassin with the Association known as Jules Maethelmaf burned them both. Murdered my grandfather ...."
"I'm so sorry."
He waved the notion away, "Thank you, but it's all right. You know, death is not the end; Cyrus is still with me."
"I know," she patted his hand, not seeming to care that he had just wiped his mouth on it. "It's still hard to endure such violence."
Kyrian sighed. It was the first time he had thought about it since it occurred. Being on the run with Cameo and Opal, he hadn't had much time to feel sorry for himself; there was always someone new trying to kill them, and someplace new to run to.
"The Temple of the Moon," she began again in a serene tone. "You must have performed a lot of funerals."
"Yes, too many. That's part of the allure of joining a priesthood that focused on the sun."
"Well," she looked down at his empty plate and then up into his blue eyes, "you haven't joined the Temple of the Sun, then?"
"No. No .... I don't think I'm going to. They have some requirements that I might not have."
"I find that a little hard to believe. I can see your aura. It's beautiful, golden. You're still pure; you could still join us."
He lifted his eyes. "Are you an acolyte here?"
"Yes. I was the person who called you. Well, once Caith and Carrington joined me here, we all sent out messages. Very few have found us."
"You're all in the priesthood?"
"Yes, that's right. Caith and I are healers … like you. Am I right?"
Kyrian nodded.
"But you have friends somewhere else, don't you?" she said suddenly, and he wondered if she could read minds. "Why didn't you bring them along?"
"Oh ... um, they wouldn't be much help."
"But when I connected with you in the dreams, you spoke of them. You said they were coming. Aren't they joining you?"
"Are you all of the Temple of the Sun?" he countered, applying one of Cameo's tactics in order to turn this conversation in another direction.
"No. No ...." She seemed thrown. "Carrington is of the Sky and Caith of Faetta. Well, you'll meet everyone else in the morning." Sage stood, adding, "It is late now, and I'm sure Caith has gotten a cot made up for you. Come with me."
Kyrian stood and followed her down a darkened hallway just off the dining room. It was cool and peaceful as they walked together. He enjoyed listening to the light clip, clip that her feet made against the stone floor, and the gentle swish of her garments as she moved ahead of him, until she finally pointed out a door.
"Caith?" She knocked.
The young man opened the door. His hair askew, he had clearly fallen asleep waiting for Kyrian. "Come in," he whispered roughly, brushing his short, dark hair from his eyes.
"Goodnight," Kyrian whispered to her before walking in. "Um, thank you," he blurted as the door closed on her, locking her outside.
"All right then," Caith pushed on a pair of spectacles. "Here you see I have made up a lovely cot for you, using only the finest in temple bedding. Only the best temples in Faetta carry some of these linens, let me tell you."
Kyrian glanced at the simple mattress stuffed full of straw and a wool blanket rolled up at the bottom.
"It's great."
"Luckily we do have a small hearth in here to stave off the cold," he smiled.
Kyrian sat down on the mattress. In his current state of exhaustion, it felt like the most comfortable piece of furniture he'd ever rested on. Then he set his shoulder-pack on the ground. The room was a typical cell that generally housed one acolyte, similar to the one he had used at the Temple of the Moon in Yetta, but unfortunately they had to squeeze two people into this one. It was dark, except for the uneven glow of firelight, and it was a bit drafty. He was considering wearing his overcoat to bed.
"What's that?"
Caith followed his gaze to the small cage on the ground beside his mattress. "Oh him?" He tapped the side of it. "It's Boris."
A tiny white mouse peeked out of the small wood box he was hiding in. He seemed somewhat irritated that he was being roused.
"He's a mouse." Caith smiled, "They're supposed to be nocturnal, but he never seems to do anything but sleep."
Kyrian watched as the young man fed the mouse a large seed.
"You travel with him?"
"Well, yes. This is my first trip in a couple of years, actually, so this is really Boris's first trip ever."
"I've known people to have dogs, or a horse ...."
"Never a mouse, hmm? Well, he makes a good traveling companion, except he smells awful! Worse than a horse! But he is easier to smuggle in than a pet horse would be."
Kyrian smiled. "You're a Temple of Faetta acolyte, right?"
He laughed, "Yes. That obvious?"
"A little."
"And you're Temple of the Moon?"
Kyrian closed his mouth, surprised that Caith knew.
"Just a feeling. You're a little more dark than the rest of us."
"I am?"
"Peaceful, too. It's not all bad."
"Well, I should get some rest." He climbed into bed, clothes still on. "I'm pretty tired."
"Goodnight, Kyrian."
"You were one of the clerics calling for help, weren't you?"
"Yes," Caith murmured, now trying to sleep himself.
"Why do you need help?"
"To destroy the vampire of the Ponth Forest."
"What?" Kyrian turned over.
"Yes. It will be hard work. We need many clerics to expel him. He's a powerful one."
"Oh, gods ...." Kyrian whispered.
"And we will need them all." Caith brightened. "He's terrorizing the whole area here. A monster."
"Do you know his name?"
"No, but I've heard he's very tall with long black hair that drags on the ground. It will be a real test of faith to take on that demon."
"Yes." Kyrian fell back into a prone position on the mattress. A sudden realization dawning on him. The vampire they were about to take on was Haffef. "You have no idea."
* * * * *
Cameo climbed up the steps at the harbor and set Opal on his feet.
Jules clambered up behind her, breathing heavily. "Where are we?"
"Lockenwood," she said, appraising the boats frozen in the harbor.
"Is that the palace?" Jules asked, trying to get his bearings.
"Yes. We're behind it."
It was morning now. The sun was shining down on the back of the icy palace walls and the ice that was clinging to tree branches, bending them to the point of nearly breaking.
People were bundled up, head to foot, and they stared at the three of them fearfully.
"Probably wondering why we're
milling around the harbor," Jules offered as the small group passed by.
Cameo's smile drooped. "Yes." And then she wondered if any of them had seen the two of them racing at supernatural speed across the Azez. Her thoughts turned to Kyrian for a moment, and she wondered if he had actually left Shandow at all, if he ever could have made it alone crossing that sea. Then she glanced over at the little group of people who were shuffling away from them at a bit of a harried pace.
She caught the look on Jules' face. A deadly look that mirrored her own thoughts; they were both considering killing the people who had seen them.
"Perhaps we could find a tavern?" Opal suggested.
"Of course." Cameo turned toward him, and a wind ripped through her stringy hair and tossed the cloak that he was wearing. "Are you holding up all right?"
He hesitated, weakened by the cold. "First rate."
"Good. We can't stay in Lockenwood. It's just not safe here for the three of us. Let's head south toward Yetta."
"We need supplies," Jules muttered.
She looked over at Opal, who was shivering, and then she moved up the hill and looked down Throop Street. It was a rather unsavory part of town they were coming up on, and that was probably for the best. The three of them were wanted for various crimes in Lockenwood, ranging from robbery to regicide. If caught, they could all be executed in varied ways. Jules, wanted for being an Association member and for supposedly killing locals, might just end up at the end of a rope, whereas she and Opal could be drawn and quartered. The idea of lingering in Lockenwood did not please her, but Jules did have a point. There was food, clothes, armor, weapons, and booze in this place. Walk a little further down the road toward Yetta, and one would find woods, wolves, graveyards, and an occasional cottage. If they were going to obtain supplies, they needed to do so here. The seedier the area, the better.
Opal and Jules followed.
The buildings in this part of Lockenwood were dark and packed tightly together. Once, the area had been a prosperous, bustling place, but that was years ago, and all of the once-beautiful homes had fallen into disrepair. It had been inherited by the poorest of the poor, the whores, the thieves, the lost souls drunk on gin lying in the gutters.
As they walked down the empty street, their footfalls echoed on the cobblestone. It didn't look like too many locals were interested in venturing outside. It was, after all, the middle of winter, and most people stayed cooped up indoors during the winter months.
"There." Cameo pointed to a small crudely painted sign, coated with snow. She brushed it off. Coffin Nails. She glanced back at the other two. "Coffin Nails Inn. Well, this should be interesting."
Just outside the door, they could hear the sound of intoxicated conversation, a game taking place, and laughter. As they entered the shack of a building, what had been boisterous conversation stopped.
It was rather crowded inside and hot. There was a roaring fire in the hearth, and the people inside were drunk and sweaty.
Cameo met the barkeep's eyes, and he was positively horrified as she did so. "We'll have what you're serving today and whatever you have to drink."
"Uh ... yes. Of course, of course."
Several other patrons who had been enjoying a table game scrambled out of their seats and left the table in the center of the room to the three of them.
"Well," Opal said as he slid into one of the empty chairs, "wasn't that amicable?"
"Very."
Jules had one hand on the hilt of the sword, procured from a royal guardsman, beneath his cloak.
Cameo ended up in the chair with her back to the rest of the room. "I don't care for this table."
"And here we are." The barkeep set down three plates and a lump of meat for them. It was bloody. Before anyone could complain, he left to fetch them some ale.
"It's raw," Jules hissed.
But Cameo cut herself a slab from the bloody carcass and moved it to her plate.
A moment later the barman returned with a second roast. "Oh, I must have grabbed the wrong thing from the back," the barman said, picking up the bloody meat. "It's so dark back there.... Uh, lady, did you want me to take that?"
Cameo held the plate on the table, watching him with her foggy, white eyes. "Leave it."
The man moved away hastily.
She stared down at the slab of freshly killed animal. Given the size, she suspected it was a goat, or maybe a dead dog. It lay there in one raw lump under the palm of her hand. The blood was more than just a smear on a razor's edge this time; it drained out onto the plate in a little pool ... a red that was nearly black against the dirty white plate.
Opal was seated opposite Cameo and surveyed the crowd of onlookers who had taken refuge in the furthest recesses of the tavern. The lot of them stood around the fireplace at the back. Some were staring, some attempting to forget about the little group that had just walked in.
"It is rather oppressive in here. My dear, would you remove this cloak?" When he glanced back at her, he saw the slab of meat was abandoned onto the tabletop, and Cameo holding the plate between her hands, assessing it.
He and Jules watched her with a sort of macabre fascination as she drank the blood from the plate. As she did so, the scar on her face faded until her skin was clean. Her irises turned blue for a moment and then returned to the cloudy corpse white.
She lifted her eyes with an odd expression, a mixture of intrigue and terror, her mouth and chin dripping blood.
Opal swallowed, "I've lost my appetite."
Jules had one chunk of roasted meat on a knife, poised on his plate, as he stared at her.
Looking up, she saw the shadows in the room. They were hanging over the people in there ... the shadow-men ... only they weren't shadows now; they were ghostly images. They had hollows for eyes and mouths, and they were looking at her intensely now. Eager to get closer.
Cameo stood up suddenly, waving at the ghosts with one arm as if she could make them disappear by fanning them.
The shades were so close now, one had his face in her face.
"Stop it! Leave me!"
And a moment later, they were gone.
Cameo turned her attention to the door, half expecting to see the shadow-men walking out, but instead she saw the clientele slinking out the door. She took a step back, stumbling over her chair.
The room was emptying out. The barkeep was missing.
"What did you see?"
She refocused on the table in front of her. Her companions were watching her, mouths open, waiting to see what odd thing she was going to do next. She saw Jules pull something from under his cloak.
"Nothing." Her voice was hoarse. She grabbed the end of the cloak Opal was wearing and wiped the blood from her mouth.
He watched her, a little worry line forming on his forehead. "Are you all right, my love?"
"Yes." She met his eyes and sat down slowly. "Put away your weapon, Jules."
He sort of smiled in acknowledgement but didn't do as she asked.
Her mouth was still bloodstained, but the scar that had been there was gone now. She seemed ... more fresh, her skin more human than she had before.
"This is because of Edel."
She met Jules' eyes, acknowledging the truth before she could stop herself.
"What did he do to you?" Opal asked with a note of wrath in his voice.
"Yes," Jules chimed in. "What exactly are we dealing with here? Should we don amulets of the sun as well?"
Cameo picked up the fork and knife on Opal's plate and cut his food for him. "As I understand it, one needs true faith to make that sort of thing turn a vampire, so I think you're pretty much screwed, Jules."
"Cameo—" Opal received a mouthful of food before he could finish what he was saying. He was hungry, so he chewed the roast in frustration, hoping to have the opportunity to speak, and then she forced another piece in.
"We have to get out of here."
"Are you safe to travel with?" Jules inquired, readjusting whatever w
eapon he had under his cloak.
She rolled her eyes. "If you don't want to travel with me, then leave."
He shifted in the chair and looked away.
"Are you ready to go, Opal?"
"Ale," he managed.
She proffered him a greasy mug.
Jules toyed with his sword now. "What do you think he did to you?"
She met him with a cold stare.
"You just drank a plate of blood. Are you a vampire?"
Cameo sat back in her chair uneasily and gazed at that lone slab of bleeding dog meat that remained lying there in front of her. "I don't know," she said quietly.
* * * * *
The assassin stared out at the gray sky, rubbing her hands together briskly.
"Why don't you go inside and find yourself a coat?" Jules was on the step of the tailor shop, where she'd made herself at home.
"Did you get some provisions?"
"Yes. Did you want to inspect them?"
"No, thank you." She looked around him, and as he noticed her lack of interest in him, he moved to one side. "I remember how well equipped you've been in the past."
He remembered it too. The last time he'd been in Lockenwood with a fully equipped pack, he had been planning on capturing her and returning her to Wick, but that hadn't turned out quite so well for him.
She lifted her flask to her mouth and took a swallow from it. It was extremely cold, and then, as if it wasn't something she'd planned on doing, she offered it, reluctantly, to Jules.
Surprised, he took the offering from her eagerly.
Cameo and the Vampire (Trilogy of Shadows Book 3) Page 5
