"I'll be back tonight."
"But, but will you have the strength?"
Kyrian shook his head at his friend. "This is what it's all about Caith. This is what a healer should be doing."
"But, they have Alerkat."
"He's like my grandfather. He's not pure; he can't heal. These people need help."
"All right. Fine, then. Go," Caith said, as if he were the one actually holding the horse quiet with his ability over animals, and as soon as he'd said it, the horse took off, running back the way it had come from.
* * * * *
Cameo rested against a tree, its rough bark digging into her back as she slid down it until she was sitting down on the ground.
The priests’ blue tome lay open in the snow. She'd read the entire section on the lich, and as she did, every single thing that she had ever seen or done that had seemed completely normal to her, yet unfathomable to humans, had begun to make sense. Perhaps she actually was a lich. She could see ghosts, hear ghosts, speak to them, command them even, and she had brought a corpse to life simply by walking over its grave not long ago. She commanded the zombies that Haffef had raised, and she had commanded Chester, Edel's zombie servant, to open the door to his secret hidden room, something neither of them understood ... until now. Now, it made perfect sense, if she were to go out on a limb and accept that this unfathomable possibility was indeed true.
She downed the flask of whiskey. She'd been running around for hours, ever since she had had her last conversation with Kyrian. It had left her weak, uncertain. And somehow, wandering around in the wilderness had only led her back to the place where Jules died. She needed the whiskey, even if the only affect it had on her anymore was as a placebo.
She had downed it. Drained the whole thing. And flung it toward the structure he had burned to death in.
"Well, what am I supposed to do now?" she asked aloud. "I thought I was leaving this area with Opal, but now he's elected to stay in Ponth, and that silly boy is going to throw himself in front of a monster." Cameo ran her fingers through her hair. "I just don't know what to do. I could run away," she faltered. The unfinished thought hung in the air.
She began anew. "I could run as Edel did. I could live a life away from Haffef." And then she recalled just what had happened to Edel in the end. What had happened once Haffef had found him. He'd taken Edel apart piece by piece. "I could at least have a life for a while."
She stood abruptly. "And what in the world am I doing? Talking to you? You're not much help to anyone now."
The bone she'd taken from his grave began to vibrate against her chest, and spinning on her heel, she saw Jules' bones pulling back together. All the pieces of him that had not been burned to ash rolled back together. His hair, the badly burned and decomposed face ....
"No! No! I don't want this! Stop it."
The body fell still.
"Rest. Do not reawaken. Do not speak. Sleep now."
The corpse fell back into the ash. The life ebbed from it once more.
She sighed at the nightmarish moment she'd just experienced. Things weren't going to get better. They were going to get more and more horrifying, and then an even darker thought occurred to her. This time though, she perked up. Assessing the time by the height of the sun, it was early evening; she realized that she had little time to spare.
In a moment the only evidence that she had been there at all was the empty flask and her shoulder-pack, lying in the snow.
* * * * *
"Let me out of here!"
Carrington ignored the voice.
"Kyrian! Kyrian, are you out there?! Let me out of here right now! What time is it?! I swear, lad, if you've made me miss Cameo, I'll ring your pious neck!"
"Doesn't he know we're trying to pray out here so we can face a vampire in its lair?" Caith whispered to Kyrian. "By the way, I'm impressed you got back so fast. How was the little girl?"
"She'll live," Kyrian smiled, weary from the healing he'd done earlier.
"You need rest, man."
"I'll be all right."
Black Opal pounded on his locked door again.
"Shut it!" Caith yelled, throwing a crinkled-up pamphlet at the door. "Doing important holy stuff out here!"
There was quiet, and then an odd sort of jingling sound began to come from the lock.
Carrington glanced over at the cell. "He's picking the lock!"
"What was it you said he did for a living again, Kyrian?"
Kyrian shot Caith a look of annoyance and walked over to the door, pressing his body against it. "Opal," he whispered.
The sound stopped.
"Finally." The dandy sounded a little less manic, a little more like his old charming self. "Well, these fools have me locked away in here. Can you just find the key and get me out of here?"
"I'll look for it," Kyrian lied.
"Wonderful! Wonderful, lad. I'm surprised they left you unharmed. Some brute cracked me over the head with something heavy."
"Oh really? How awful."
"Yes, yes. I suspect it's only a matter of time, though. These things have a way of coming back on the person who did them."
"Really, Opal? You usually don't believe in things like that."
He chuckled from within his room. "I promise you, when I get out of here, I'll be certain that little prediction comes to fruition! Now, get me out of here!"
"All right, Opal, all right." Kyrian watched as Carrington and Caith, now talking animatedly to each other, moved into the kitchen, leaving him and Alerkat alone in the tiny sitting area. "Opal," he said, more insistently now.
"What?! Have you found the key yet?"
"No. Listen to me. We're leaving soon, going back to face Haffef at that horrible farm."
"What? No, lad don't do it—"
"Shh, listen. I have little time before they come back. Cameo is supposed to be there tonight."
"She'd never go back—"
"I asked her to do it for my sake."
"How could you?!"
Kyrian pressed his forehead up against the door, feeling acutely guilty for this … for never being able to forgive Jules before he'd killed himself. For a moment, he was lost in his own grief.
"He'll kill her. Kyrian, do you hear me?! He'll kill her!"
"Quiet down, or they'll hear you."
"Are you insane? Let me out of here at once."
Carrington swept back into the room. "You coming?"
"I'll be right there."
Opal pressed his whole body against the door. "What's going on?"
"We're leaving now."
"No! No! Don't leave without me! Kyrian! Kyrian!" He banged against the door.
Kyrian met Alerkat's eyes in acknowledgement and walked out of the shrine.
"Gods be with you," the old priest said as he went.
"Kyrian!"
* * * * *
It was sundown. Cameo stood at the center of the great necropolis in Yetta. The ground under her black leather boots stirred. It was more than that first slight rumble she had felt when she walked across that single family plot while wandering in the wilderness. It was the hundreds of corpses in the cemetery of Yetta, all awakening at once as she deliberately walked into the place.
At one point in her undeath, she'd spent the nights in the mausoleums here. Hidden herself away from those who wanted to kill her, stashed money, weapons. And all of that time she had no idea that she was so close to reanimating the dead. One word breathed out just right, one command and she might have brought this chaos to herself years ago.
Remembering how late it was getting, and that Kyrian's life was on the line, as he would be foolishly blundering into Haffef's territory once more, she reached for her flask, but it was gone. She could have used that liquid courage, or at least the crutch that feeling the flask itself in her hands gave to her, but she would have to make do with the real thing inside, it seemed. Drawing on the idea of Kyrian in peril, she squared her shoulders.
"Awaken!"
The command sent forceful thundering throughout the graveyard. The Faettan soil burst open everywhere, for miles, and the air was filled with a putrid, rotting stench of decay.
Anything that could still hold itself together came crawling forth from those graves. Bodies barely decomposed, skeletons, and pieces all dragged themselves from the ground.
There was a startled scream in the distance. Someone visiting a relative had just gotten an unhealthy scare.
Cameo examined the newly risen dead around her. Every single head and empty-socketed skull regarded her as its master. They stared at her, awaiting a command.
Now this would make a hair-raising army. Too bad they walk much too slowly to get from Yetta to Ponth in time to save the idiot priests.
"Do not move," she ordered, and then going to one of the more-intact bodies, she lifted it and a sturdy-looking skeleton into her arms. Holding her breath against the smell, she ran through the graveyard and out of Yetta and through Hangingford at her supernatural pace and deposited them in the forest beside a creek. "Stay here, and do not move until I tell you to." Then she sped back the way she'd come, back through Hangingford, north into Yetta and the graveyard, where she piled another two bodies into her arms and swept them away again, back down into the forest and left them with the other zombies that she now controlled, beside the creek.
"Stay here. Do not move until I tell you to."
It was still only sundown. She dashed back to Yetta and hefted two more undead bodies into her arms.
Chapter Twelve
"Shovels?" Kyrian found the rest of his friends in the stable, gathering up some equipment that the locals had donated for the healers’ vampire-exterminating quest. "What are these for?"
"Just in case we win this fight," Caith laughed, handing Kyrian one of the shovels.
"What? We're going to rebury three hundred zombies?"
The other young man shook his head, "No, silly. We'll have to do something with that vampire. Can't leave those parts lying around, you know."
Kyrian was bewildered, "Why not?"
"Oh come on, Kyrian. Haven't you read up on vampires?"
The lad folded his arms, irritated. "Nope. I haven't read anything. Is that how you destroy a vampire? Bury him? Seems counterproductive, really."
"No, no. You have to cut off his head and bury it separate from his body, so they can't reattach themselves and reanimate. The best place to leave a body is at a crossroads."
"And why is that?"
"That way it won't be sure what direction to go."
"Ah." Somehow this seemed more lore than fact.
Carrington swung into the stable. "They found Gibson. Well, what was left of him anyhow."
"Where is he?"
Carrington turned toward Kyrian. "The man who owns the coach stop found him lying out behind his place, not too far back, in an overgrown area. He was throwing out his trash, and there was Gibson."
"We should say a few words."
Carrington looked at them seriously. "You don't want to see him. He's been beaten to death, and something drank his blood but didn't drain him."
"Still," Sage said, "he needs a proper burial."
"Yeah." Carrington met Kyrian's eyes. "But right now we need to face off with ... what was his name again? Haffef?"
The lad nodded.
"Let's get going."
"Did everyone pack holy water?" Caith checked his bag.
"I did."
Kyrian was the last one out. He knew what Carrington was getting at. He believed that Cameo had attacked Gibson and drunk his blood. He believed her to be a half-vampire ... and unfortunately, it was beginning to make sense. Her newer, more youthful appearance, her clear eyes. And, of course, it was no secret that she hated Gibson.
The rural community was lost in the distance behind them. Kyrian liked Ponth. If he lived through this, he'd decided to go back and make it his home, if the people there wanted him.
The only light now was the light from the torches that Carrington and Sage were carrying, and their light blinded him to everything beyond the straight road they were on.
The walk was a relatively short one, and he believed that Haffef would be aware of their presence, if he were at home, but they were hoping he wasn't at home, and that was why they had decided to wait until nearly dawn: so they could catch him on the way home. Of course, Carrington had no idea how fast Haffef could travel, or that he seemed to have an ability to turn into mist, something Kyrian had witnessed the very first time that he'd ever encountered the monster, the night that Haffef had nearly killed Cameo and had escaped by slipping through the floor of the building, like a ghost.
The little group snuffed out their torches as they arrived at the approximate area they'd originally gone into the woods and scrambled back down that wooded hill toward the zombie farm.
Kyrian felt his heart pounding in his chest and looked to Cyrus for encouragement.
"Now remember," Carrington stopped them, "Caith and Sage, I want you inside the house. Kyrian, you block the door from the outside, and I'll stand guard out front."
"What if we can't get to the house?" Kyrian whispered. "What if all of the zombies attack us like they did last time?"
"Fight your way through, and get to the house."
"Fight our way through?"
"That's right," he grinned. "We're going to sprint to the door."
"Sprint?" Kyrian asked, bewildered. "That's your plan?"
The young warrior smiled, pulling his sword from its sheath, "Don't fear, Kyrian. You and Cameo have a strong bond. She'll be here."
The lad paled. "I hope your entire plan doesn't hinge on what Cameo's plans are, because she's not always so trustworthy. She sort of does what she wants to do."
Carrington slapped Kyrian on the shoulder. "Have some faith. The gods are with us."
As if on cue, Caith kissed the amulet he wore around his neck and knelt down to say a prayer. Sage, Carrington, and then finally Kyrian followed suit.
* * * * *
Cameo stood on the edge of the wood, facing the front of the house. She stood motionless, waiting for any sign of Kyrian. She glanced down the line of undead that she'd managed to bring along with her. Unending trips back and forth to the graveyard of Yetta since the last evening had given her a sizable army, mostly of ghouls that still had meat on their bones ... rotting meat.
Her back hurt, and she could really use some rest.
The sky was turning blue. She hoped that Kyrian hadn't given her some sort of false information, although she had no idea what that would have accomplished.
"Spirits," she commanded, "show yourselves, speak."
Before she had gotten the words fully formed on her lips, she felt them crushing in on her, ghosts everywhere, and a cacophony of chatter! Cameo chanced a glance behind her and discovered a crowd of spirits, arguing, seemingly annoyed with the situation and Cameo. She must've picked up extras at the cemetery.
She touched the bone that she'd hidden in her shirt absentmindedly, for reassurance.
"Hello, Cameo," came the familiar and sarcastic voice that she'd been longing to hear. It was just a whisper, just barely audible over all the other racket.
"Jules?"
And he was beside her again. A grin plastered across his face.
"All spirits except for Jules, leave me for now."
There was a sudden quiet. A sensation of relief.
"Are you here because of Haffef?"
He shook his head.
"Because I have your rib bone?"
Jules laughed, but shook his head no.
She smiled to herself.
* * * * *
"Old priest!"
Alerkat got up from his place beside the fire and went to Opal's door. "I thought you had fallen asleep. You haven't made a sound in hours."
Opal rubbed his eyes, guilty that he had indeed fallen asleep after he had discovered that he had no idea how to pick a lock. "Just get me out of here."
<
br /> The priest unlocked the door.
"What time is it?" the highwayman asked as he raced to the door.
"Dawn."
"No!" Opal flung open the door.
The sky confirmed that Alerkat was right. The local guard were putting out their torches and going back to their homes.
Opal walked casually across the street to the stables, trying not to attract unwanted attention from them. Once inside, however, he set to work fitting a bridle and saddle to one of the faster-looking steeds.
"Hey, who's in the stable?"
Opal leapt onto the gelding's back and burst out of the stable as fast as the horse would move. North, back up Gallop Road where those silly priests had faced off with zombies days ago. He touched the rapier that was bouncing against his leg, just to reassure himself that it was still there.
"You! Brigand! Come back here with that horse!"
"Thief!"
He heard their cries in the distance.
* * * * *
The farmhouse before them had been white at one time, but it was now down to bare boards, grayish with age, with only peeling paint here and there. The house was dilapidated and falling apart; the surrounding fields dotted by zombie slaves working the hard winter ground.
The four of them—Kyrian, Caith, Sage, and Carrington—sprinted across the field with a surge of holy fervor. Carrington had his sword in one hand.
Caith and Sage got to the door and entered the house, and Kyrian fell against it, panting as he turned around to face the monsters who had just realized there were humans nearby.
"Burn it!" Carrington called out to the healers who had made their way inside.
Inside, the two of them found a ramshackle building, with a few pieces of broken furniture. The kitchen area had a counter full of phials and jars.
"Ingredients?" Caith said, lifting a jar of something that looked like sand.
Sage's eyes went to the rows and rows of ancient books that were stacked on the floor in the other, larger sitting area ... and then to the blood that covered the table in front of her. She released a short cry before she could stop herself.
Cameo and the Vampire (Trilogy of Shadows Book 3) Page 17
