Deadly Assessments
Page 23
“Not bad.” Deborah watched it all unfold with an analytical gaze, taking careful note of everything she saw. “Not bad at all.”
“Well, it’s not on par with secretly smuggling a silver dagger in the same car as two other vampires, but I do like to try.”
From her side, Deborah lifted a dark sheath into my line of view. I couldn’t quite tell what it was made of. The material seemed utterly foreign; though, if I had to guess, it probably fit the blade currently jammed inside my back. “Sheath made from dragon scales and enchanted by an archmage. Position and experience do have their perks.”
While my eyes might have widened a touch at the words “dragon scales,” the sheath itself was far from shocking. I’d always known she had access to more resources than most of us could ever dream of seeing, and this whole fight had illustrated the depth of her connections. Deborah had enough clout to have the Court of Frost help her test a single lowly vampire. It was important to make myself remember that, even in complete victory, we would not defeat Deborah; we’d only pass her test. This wasn’t her trying to kill us, and if I ever let time or pride cloud that fact, I would be putting my entire clan at risk. I’d learned a great deal from her, much more than I’d ever expected, but there was no lesson that landed harder than the one Lillian had tried to tell me weeks ago: the Blood Council was terrifying, and not to be trifled with.
On the battlefield, my friends had broken into teams once more. Krystal and June were a terrifying duo, stabbing and slicing in a whirlwind of blades. Bubba was still stampeding, only now, Amy was running behind him, finishing off the enemies he knocked down while Lillian guarded her rear. Albert and Neil were the ones who drew the most attention, however.
Standing in the center of a crowd of constructs, Albert was swinging with all his might. At his side, Neil was doing his best with the dagger, but he couldn’t hope to match Albert’s power. I almost didn’t see it, the glance Neil shot over to the sidelines, to where Arch was standing patiently. That was it, a single look, to which Arch replied with a stiff, visible nod of the head. Permission. He’d just gotten permission to do something. The question was what?
I didn’t have to wonder for very long. Neil reformed his magical barrier and dropped low, creating as small a target as possible. For an instant, I thought he was exhausted and trying to recover. Then I saw Albert begin to glow. At first, that was the only change; a sheen of light across Albert’s skin. Seconds later, he struck another ice-construct, only this time, he didn’t merely slice it. Shards of ice sprayed across the plant-monsters to its rear, the hit so hard it literally tore the living sculpture apart. That blow was much stronger than the ones that had come before, and Neil was only getting started.
Every strike of the sword seemed to be stronger, and I soon realized that Albert was getting faster. His movements were so fast, in fact, so precise, that I was reasonably certain I couldn’t have tracked them using human eyes. What had seemed like an army assaulting a single duo minutes prior, now looked more akin to rats fighting a mountain. Not in terms of size—Albert hadn’t magically shot up to fifty feet tall or anything—merely in terms of power. I knew he and Neil had been training with Arch; I was fully aware of how hard both of them had been working, and even with all of that, I’d still grossly underestimated how much they had grown.
The sword had been right from the beginning. None of us saw it. None of us would have ever guessed it. And yet, as I watched Albert cleave easily through a pseudo-leg as thick as a real tree trunk, there was no denying the truth in what lay before us: the Blade of the Unlikely Champion had unquestionably found the right person to wield it.
“I miss this.”
Of all the commentary I’d expected from Deborah, that wasn’t anything I’d imagined slipping past her lips. I wasn’t even sure she knew she had said out loud at first, until she continued.
“Fighting for your people, shoulder-to-shoulder, willing to put everything on the line for one another, the terror of not knowing if you’ll make it out alive, the rush of evenly matched combat, the unconquerable fear of the loss. I miss pushing your limits and seeing the rest of your clan break beyond theirs. Enjoy this time, Fred. The youth of a vampire is chaotic, dangerous, and often deadly, but it’s usually the most exciting point of your life. When you get older, stronger, things slow down. Alliances and treaties mean battles have too many consequences, and the league you play in grows to accommodate far more deadly foes.”
“If you’re really that eager to relive the past, I believe our clan has a few more empty spots we can fill. Although, I should warn you, as a rule, we’re a little more restrained in our violence than today. I can’t imagine that most of them would fight so hard if there was real life on the line.”
“I know. That’s why they’re constructs,” Deborah said. “It must be possible for you to win, and after six weeks, I’ve learned your attitude toward violence quite well. In truth, it was one of the largest points in your favor.”
From any other vampire, that sentiment might have surprised me. Deborah and I didn’t see eye-to-eye on everything, especially not when dealing with potential threats, but I could respect the way she viewed the world. I hoped she could respect, or at least accept, the way we did things, as well.
Leaning down, Deborah grabbed the handle of the knife and jerked it out, putting it quickly back into its sheath. “I think you’re smart enough to stay put without this, so there’s no need to make you suffer. As for the offer, I’ll have to pass. I had my youth, and it was glorious. Going backward would be pure indulgence, and I’ve got too much responsibility for that.” She paused, looking down at my back more carefully.
A sudden explosion drew both of our attentions away from Albert, who’d been hard to turn away from, and over to Amy. A huge circle of magical purple flames had appeared in her area of the battlefield, engulfing the constructs inside and turning them to water vapor and ash. Not content with just that, Amy pointed to another cluster of enemies. The purple fire struck out at them with what looked like a burning tentacle, setting all it touched ablaze. I knew that just because a mage specialized in one field—alchemy, in Amy’s case—didn’t mean they couldn’t learn other forms of magic, but this was beyond anything I’d ever expected.
How had she pulled off a spell like that under these conditions? My eyes traveled to the ground where the circle of fire continued to burn, taking notice of the tracks winding their way around the purple inferno. Runes. What I’d mistaken for Bubba stampeding at random had in fact been him following specific, precise directions from Amy. He’d been etching runes into the dirt with his heavy hooves, building the spell slowly while storming through the enemies. It was the kind of technique that demanded incredibly high amounts of trust and communication, which made it the perfect tactic for the strange pair of friends who’d come up with it.
“I don’t know what the standards for a clan are.” I rose to my feet with care, making sure that Deborah didn’t misinterpret my motions as me trying to defy her orders. “I know that I, as an individual, am not as strong as you, or Quinn, or Petre, or Lillian. But we, as the House of Fred, are not weak, and I’m fairly certain most other vampire clans of our age and size would not be able to do what you’re watching mine accomplish. Not without taking substantial losses.”
There wasn’t much left to watch. Despite the difference in numbers, iron and teamwork had made quite a difference, to say nothing of the spectacles Amy and Albert had put on. If the agents had been at full strength—or capable of using the necessary weapons, in June’s case—I imagined it would have been an even shorter fight. In a way, I was glad Hellebore and Deborah had put those limits on us. It gave the rest of my friends a chance to show what they could really do when push came to shove.
“There was never any question about the raw strength of your clan,” Deborah told me. “You have a prodigy necromancer teamed with a zombie who wields a weapon of destiny, one of the most brilliant alchemists in the nation, a therian wil
ling to undergo magical augmentation, a sentient safe-house unlike nearly any other, and you topped it off by poaching one of the House of Turva’s top fighters. That’s not even including your allies: the King of the West, the head of the local therians, two internationally renowned enchanters, and what appears to be three agents, one of whom is training actual members of your clan. To be frank, the raw power of your clan is one of the reasons we undertook this examination in the first place.”
That comment caught me by such surprise that words popped out of my mouth on instinct. “I thought the House of Turva made a complaint about us?”
“Of course they did; you beat them fairly, so they turned to playing politics in an effort to snatch victory from the ashes of defeat. Happens all the time, which is part of why we made it clear the Blood Council wasn’t to be lightly drawn into such petty squabbles. But you and yours were a special case. What you see as a group of friends could be interpreted by others as the beginning of a revolution. A multi-parahuman clan is dangerous. Under the right leadership, with enough time and the right recruits, they could challenge existing power structures. Think about how you’d fight a gang of therians versus vampires or mages. If we had to fight your clan, or a stronger version of it, then the matter gets immensely more complicated. You represent a potential threat, and the Blood Council makes a habit of being on top of such things long before they turn into problems.”
It seemed a bit of a stretch to imply that my clan could ever contend with an organization comprised of members as strong as Deborah, but when viewed with a long-term mindset, I had to admit it made a modicum of sense. Parahumans either died or aged, and most of the ones I knew would only get stronger the longer they were around. Nervous now, I glanced at her profile, checking for any telltale signs of attack.
“I hope that, with all you’ve seen, you realize now that my clan, my friends, have no real interest in going down that route. All we want, all we’ve ever wanted, is to go about our lives in peace.”
“Relax, Fred.” A hand patted me lightly on the back, near the place where the wound from the dagger had been. “It’s done. You showed forethought with the daggers, cunning in keeping me out of the loop, and leadership in the way you gave your friends direction while being wounded and stuck outside the battle. Yes, physically, you’re weak, but we could change that just by feeding you the right type of blood. Knowing how to think, how to lead, those are far more important factors to me. Anyway, at this point, I couldn’t kill you even if I wanted to.”
I knew. Just from the tone. Even before her hand hit my back again, right on the place I’d gotten stabbed and with much harder force, enough to send me stumbling a step forward.
“After all, as a member of the Blood Council, it would be ridiculous of me to kill off what appears to be the first vampire in known history who’s immune to silver.”
6.
That was the sort of comment that very much demanded some follow-up discussion. Unfortunately, we didn’t have a chance to keep talking, as in the stands, Hellebore clapped her hands together once. Just that one gesture, and suddenly, the battle was over. The three remaining constructs collapsed, Amy’s fire burned out, Neil’s barrier vanished, and Albert stopped glowing. Even Bubba seemed to be turning back into a regular horse, and then, moments later, into a human once more. Somehow, Hellebore had swept all magic from the arena with virtually no effort at all. I could see why Krystal had opted to play ball with the fey rather than stick to her usual tactics of aggression and cursing. Against that kind of power, even she had to be careful.
“The trial is finished. Agent Jenkins, while I do not condone bringing iron into our lands, I also did not expressly forbid its use; therefore, you have won the battle without violating any of my conditions. As a representative of the Court of Frost, I hereby release you from your contract of betrothal. You are free to marry as you wish.”
Krystal was battered, tired, and had blood dripping from a wound on her temple, yet she still let out a whoop of pure joy at the news. When her yell had faded, she looked up at Hellebore and bowed, albeit slightly.
“I accept the judgment of the Court of Frost and thank you for your time.”
“Oh no, Agent Jenkins, it is the Court of Frost who thanks you.” Despite her construct army getting creamed, Hellebore didn’t appear to be bothered at all. If anything, she looked like a cat who’d stolen a songbird from its cage. “While having an agent in our hand was useful, favors owed by the Blood Council are worth far more to us. On that note, Prudence, I trust that you will honor your debts.”
It was Deborah’s turn to bow, and there was nothing slight about hers. “No titles, please. I am here today as a bodyguard, and nothing more. But you can rest assured; the markers I offered came with the full consent of the Blood Council, and will be repaid properly when presented.”
Now that I had the whole picture, my respect for Hellebore only increased. She’d set things up so that even if she lost her leverage over an agent, the fey would gain favors from the Blood Council. No matter how this day went down, whether we won or lost, Hellebore had come out ahead. That was politics and scheming at its finest; I could see why so many people feared the fey.
“Very well, then. The trial has been concluded, and debts have been pledged or settled. The Court of Frost hereby releases you all back into the lands of humanity. Take that detestable metal with you. I will be quite cross if so much as even a scrap remains upon your departure.”
Hellebore gave one final glance to Deborah, then vanished in a flurry of snowflakes. At first, we all stood frozen, waiting for some other threat or danger to rear its ugly head. Slowly, the truth settled in: it was over, and we’d come out intact. We started moving, and just like that, we became a crush of bodies all meeting at once. Hugs and cheers abounded as relief washed over us. Only Deborah, Arch, and June stayed out of the fray; the first two out of choice, June because she couldn’t get that close to our iron daggers.
In the middle of it all, I found my way to Krystal. She picked up right where she’d left off upon arrival, planting a kiss on me that threatened to knock me from my feet. Happy as we all were, we didn’t celebrate for long. This was a foreign realm, with unknown dangers and magic. The sooner we crossed back over, the better. Within a few minutes of Hellebore’s disappearance, we were back on the trail heading toward the exit.
By coincidence or design—I’ve never figured out which—Deborah ended up far away from me. She was still guarding the rear, but Krystal pulled me to the front, filling me in on some of her adventures in the six weeks she’d been away. Her journey was an incredible one, and I could scarcely fathom the kind of perils she’d overcome. It made for a wonderful distraction, as well, keeping me from brooding too much about what might come next for me.
How Deborah knew was irrelevant—she did, and it would be easy enough to prove even if I could sow seeds of doubt, which felt like something of a long shot. After all, wounds from silver weapons healed far more slowly on most parahumans . . . and then I realized: that was the moment that had given me away. When she pulled the dagger out, my body did what it always does in such situations: it healed. As an experienced vampire, she would have absolutely known that my wound shouldn’t close that fast. Between seeing the injury heal and knowing about my contest of holding silver knives with Petre, it would have been easy to put the pieces together.
The real question was what she planned to do with that information. Probably not death, not at first, especially if she planned to study me. Unfortunately, vampires could endure quite a bit before dying. She might even be able to halfway manage a dissection or its magical equivalent without crossing the line into permanent death. Taking a glance over my shoulder, I found Deborah’s eyes watching, waiting. She knew I was worried, and while there was nothing angry or aggressive in her expression, that wasn’t as reassuring as it should have been. Deborah was practical, not cruel. Even if she took no joy in carving me up, or handing me over to the Blood Council, it did
n’t mean she’d hesitate to do either if she deemed it the right choice for the greater good.
However, that same practicality was also my largest ray of hope, strangely enough. If it wasn’t efficient, if there wasn’t a point to cutting me open, then she wouldn’t waste time in trying. The fact that she hadn’t struck yet was also encouraging, although I had to entertain the possibility that she was merely waiting until we’d left the fey lands. There was nothing for me to do, though. My secret was out, and the ball was firmly in Deborah’s court.
Since I had no control over the situation, I resolved to simply enjoy whatever time I had left. Taking Krystal’s hand in mine as she continued to tell me about tracking a Winter Wolf across a tundra, I tried to savor the moment. Most of the people I cared about were here, safe and happy. Should the worst come to pass, my bargain with Deborah would still be in effect. The others could continue on like this—sad for a while, perhaps, but they’d all have long lives ahead of them. Lives that would keep going, and be filled with new challenges, surprises, and joys whether I was there or not.
Surprisingly, that thought turned out to be a larger comfort than I’d expected.
Getting back to the door that took us home seemed to be a faster journey than walking to the arena had been. I don’t mean that in a “we were all happy so time flew by” context, either. Quite literally, there was less ground to cover, as though the trail had shrunken while we were fighting. My body tensed as we reached the exit, which, from this side, looked like a metal door someone had haphazardly jammed into a forest for no reason. This close to getting out, I found myself waiting for the other shoe to drop, for one final fey assault to overtake us.