Vowed

by Morgan Rice

  “I’LL PAY ANY PRICE!” Sam leaned back and screamed to the waves.

  The scream seemed to rise into the heavens, and as it did, it was echoed back by a flock of birds, flying overhead. Sam felt a chill run through his body, as he sensed, at that moment, that the universe had heard and answered him. He knew at that moment, with every ounce of his body, that Polly would, indeed, come back to life. Even though she wasn’t meant to. That he had willed it to happen, had broken some greater plan in the universe. And that he would, indeed, pay the price.

  Suddenly, Sam looked down, and watched as Polly’s eyes opened slowly. They were as blue and beautiful as he had remembered, and they were staring right at him. For a moment they were blank, but then they filled with recognition. And then, the greatest magic he had ever seen, a small smile formed at the corner of her lips.

  “Are you trying to take advantage of a girl while she’s asleep?” Polly asked, in her typical, jovial voice.

  Sam couldn’t help but break into a huge grin. Polly was back. Nothing else mattered. He tried to push out of his mind the ominous feeling that he had defied destiny, that he would have to pay the price.

  Polly sat up, back to her nimble, happy self, looking embarrassed to have been caught so vulnerable in his arms, and trying to make a show of being strong and independent. She took in her surroundings, and grabbed onto the side of the boat as a wave brought them high, then lurched them low.

  “This isn’t exactly what I would call a romantic boating expedition,” she said, looking a bit pale as she tried to steady herself in the rocking sea. “Where are we exactly? And what is that on the horizon?”

  Sam turned and looked where she was pointing. He hadn’t seen it before. There, a few hundred yards off in the distance, sat a rocky island, jutting straight out of the sea, with tall, unforgiving cliffs.

  It looked ancient, uninhabited, its terrain rocky and desolate.

  He turned and surveyed the horizon in every direction. It looked like the only island within thousands of miles.

  “It looks like we’re heading right for it,” he said.

  “I sure hope so,” Polly said. “I’m positively nauseous on this boat.” Suddenly, Polly leaned over the side and threw up, again and again.

  Sam came over and placed a reassuring hand on her back. Polly finally stood, wiping her mouth with the back of her sleeve and looking away, embarrassed.

  “Sorry,” she said. “These waves are relentless.” She looked up at him, guiltily. “It must be unattractive.”

  But Sam wasn’t thinking that at all. On the contrary, he was realizing that he had stronger feelings for Polly than he ever realized.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Polly asked. “Was it that awful?” Sam quickly looked away, realizing he was staring.

  “I wasn’t thinking that at all,” he said, blushing.

  But they were both interrupted. On the island there suddenly appeared several warriors, standing at the top of a cliff. One appeared after another, and soon the horizon was filled with them.

  Sam reached down, searching to see what weapons he had brought with him. But he was disappointed to find he had not brought any.

  The horizon blackened with more and more vampire warriors, and Sam could see that the current was bringing them right to them. They were drifting right into a trap, and there was nothing they could do to stop it.

  “Look at that,” Polly said. “They’re coming to greet us.”

  Sam studied them carefully, and came to a very different conclusion.

  “No they’re not,” he said. “They’re coming to test us.”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Caitlin stood before the rope bridge to Skye, Caleb beside her, and Scarlet and Ruth behind them. She watched the dilapidated rope sway violently, as she heard the wind whistling through the rocks, the waves crashing against the cliffs hundreds of feet below. The bridge was wet and slippery.

  Slipping off it would mean instant death for Scarlet and for Ruth, and Caitlin hadn’t tested her own wings yet, either. Crossing this bridge was not really a chance she wanted to take—but then again, it seemed obvious that they needed to be on the Isle of Skye.

  Caleb looked over at her.

  “We haven’t much choice,” he said.

  “Then there’s no point in waiting,” she answered. “I’ll take Scarlet, you take Ruth?” Caleb nodded grimly back, as Caitlin picked up Scarlet and hoisted her onto her back, while Caleb held Ruth in his arms. Ruth at first squirmed, wanting to get down, but Caleb held her firmly, and something about his grip eventually calmed her.

  There was no choice but to walk single file on the narrow bridge. Caitlin went first.

  Caitlin took her first, unsteady step onto the bridge, and could immediately feel how slippery the water-sprayed planks were. She reached over and grabbed the rope railing for balance, but the bridge only swayed as she did, and the railing fell to pieces in her hands.

  She closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and centered herself. She knew she could not rely on her vision, or her balance. She had to call on something deeper. She thought back to Aiden’s lessons, summoned his words. She stopped trying to oppose the bridge: instead, she tried to feel at one with it.

  Caitlin trusted her inner instincts, and took several steps forward. She slowly opened her eyes, and as she took another step, a plank fell through beneath her. Scarlet cried out, and she lost her balance for a moment—then quickly took another step and found her footing. The wind swayed the bridge again. It felt like she had been going forever, but when Caitlin looked up, she saw they had only gone about ten feet. She knew instinctively that they would never make it.

  She turned and looked at Caleb. She could see the look in his eyes, and knew that he was thinking the same thing. She wanted more than anything to just spread her wings and take off, but as she felt them, she sensed something in the air, and knew that Caleb had been right: there was some sort of invisible energy shield up around this island, and flying here uninvited would not work.

  The wind blew the bridge again, and Caitlin was beginning to feel desperate. They had gone too far to turn back.

  She made a split-second decision.

  “On three, jump off, grab your side of the railing, and let it swing you all the way!” she suddenly called out to Caleb. “It’s the only way!”

  “What if it gives!?” he screamed back.

  “We have no choice! If we continue as we are, we will die!” Caleb didn’t argue.

  “ONE!” she yelled, taking a deep breath, “TWO! THREE!”

  She leapt into the air, off to her right, and saw Caleb leap to his left. She could hear Scarlet screaming and Ruth whining as they were falling over the edge. She reached up and grabbed hard on the rope railing, praying to God that it would hold true this time. She saw Caleb doing the same.

  A second later, they were holding onto the rope and swinging through the air, at full speed, the saltwater rising up from the waves and crashing over them. For a moment, Caitlin couldn’t tell if they were still swinging, or falling straight down.

  But after a few seconds, she could feel the tension of the rope catching in her hand, and felt them not plummeting straight down, but rather swinging towards the far cliff. It was holding.

  Caitlin braced herself. The rope was holding, and that was good. But they were also swinging fast, right for the side of the cliff. Smashing into it, she knew, would be painful.

  She turned her shoulder and positioned Scarlet behind her, so that she could take the full force of the blow. She looked over and saw Caleb doing the same, holding Ruth with one arm behind him, and leaning in with his shoulder. They both braced for impact.

  A second later, they crashed hard into the wall, with a flood of pain. The force of the impact knocked the wind out of Caitlin, and she was momentarily stunned. But she still held onto the rope, and she could see that Caleb did, too. She hung there, dazed for several seconds, checking to see if Scarlet was okay, and if Caleb was
. They were.

  Caitlin slowly stopped seeing stars, and eventually she reached up, and started to pull herself up the rope, straight up the face of the cliff. She looked up, and saw she had thirty yards to go before reaching the top. She then made the mistake of turning and looking down: it was a perilous drop, and she realized that if the rope gave way, they would plummet hundreds of feet into the sharp rocks below.

  Caleb recovered and was climbing straight up his rope, too. The two of them were making good speed, even while slipping on the mossy cliffs.

  Suddenly, Caitlin heard a sickening noise. It was the sound of rope snapping.

  Caitlin braced herself for a moment, preparing to plummet to her death, but then realized she didn’t feel her rope giving way. She looked over immediately, and saw that it was Caleb’s.

  His rope was snapping.

  Caitlin jumped into action. She kicked off the rock, and swung her rope closer to him, reaching out a free hand. She managed to grab Caleb’s hand just as he was plummeting to earth. She held it tight with her free hand, holding him there, dangling in the air. Then, with a supreme effort, she lifted him up several feet, into a deep crevice in the side of the cliff. Caleb, still holding Ruth, was able to stand firmly on a ledge, and to grab hold of a natural handle inside the rock face.

  Secure, she could see the relief on his face.

  But there was no time to reflect. Caitlin immediately turned and hurried up the rope. Her rope could snap, too, at any moment, and she still had Scarlet on her back.

  Finally, she reached the top. She quickly jumped up onto the grassy plateau and deposited Scarlet. She felt so grateful to be on steady land—but she didn’t waste any time. She rolled over, took the rope, and threw it hard several feet, so that it swung over to where Caleb was standing, below.

  She looked down and saw that he was watching carefully for it, and as it came his way, he reached out and grabbed it, holding Ruth with the other hand. He managed to pull them up quickly, too. Caitlin watched carefully his every step, praying that it would not give.

  Finally, he made it to the top, rolling over onto the grass, right beside her. They scurried far from the ledge, and as they did, Scarlet and Ruth embraced, and Caitlin and Caleb did the same.

  Caitlin could feel the relief flooding her body, as it did his.

  “You saved my life,” he said. “Again.”

  She shot back a smile.

  “You saved mine many times,” she said. “I owe you at least a few.” He smiled back.

  They all turned and surveyed their new surroundings. The Isle of Skye. It was gorgeous, breathtaking, mystical, desolate and dramatic at the same time. The island curved in a series of mountains and valleys and hills and plateaus, some of it rocky and barren, some of it covered in a green moss. It was all shrouded by a heavenly mist, which made its way into the nooks and cracks, and was lit up orange and red and yellow in the morning sun. This island looked like a place of dreams. And it also looked like a place that no humans could ever possibly live.

  As she watched the horizon, suddenly, like an apparition, a dozen vampires walked out of the mist, over the hill, appearing slowly, heading right for them. Caitlin could not believe it. She braced herself for battle, but Caleb reached over and placed a reassuring hand on hers, as they all stood.

  “Don’t worry,” Caleb said. “I can sense it. They are friendly.” As they got closer, Caitlin could see their features, and sensed that he was right. In fact, she was shocked at what she saw.

  Standing there, before her, were several of her old friends.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Sam braced himself as their boat, rocking wildly, propelled itself inevitably toward the rocky shore. He could feel Polly’s apprehension, as dozens of vampire warriors scurried down the steep cliffs, heading towards them.

  “Now what?” Polly asked, their boat just feet from shore.

  “No other way,” Sam answered. “We make our stand.”

  With those words, he suddenly leapt off the boat, holding Polly’s hand, taking her with him. The two of them leapt several feet in the air, landing at the water’s edge. Sam felt the shock of the icy cold water on his bare feet; it sent a shiver up his spine, waking him completely. He realized he was still clothed in his battle gear from London—tight black pants and shirt, thickly padded around the shoulders and arms, and he looked over and realized that Polly was, too.

  But there wasn’t much time to take in anything else. As Sam looked to the shore, he saw dozens of human warriors charging towards them. Dressed in chain mail armor from head to toe, wielding swords, carrying shields, they were the classic vision of knights in shining armor that Sam had seen in picture books all throughout his childhood—the knights he had once wanted to be. As a child, he’d idolized them. But now, being a vampire, he knew he was so much stronger than they would ever be. He knew they could never possibly match the strength or speed that he did, never come close to his fighting skills. So Sam wasn’t afraid.

  But he was very much protective of Polly. He wasn’t quite sure how evolved Polly’s fighting skills were, and he didn’t entirely like the look of these humans weapons. They were unlike any other swords and shields he had seen. He could already see, gleaming in the morning sun, that they appeared to be silver-tipped. Designed to kill vampires.

  He knew it was a threat he had to take seriously.

  From the looks on their faces, these humans meant business and he could see from their tight, coordinated formations that they were well-trained. For humans, these were probably the best warriors of this time. They were well organized, too, charging from both directions.

  Sam wouldn’t give them the advantage of the first strike.

  Sam charged them himself, breaking into a sprint, suddenly approaching them faster than they were him.

  Clearly, they hadn’t expected this. He could sense their hesitation, unsure how to react.

  But he didn’t give them any time. With one flying leap, he leapt over their heads, using his wings to propel him, until he cleared the entire group, and landed behind them. As he did, he reached down and grabbed a lance from a rear knight. As he landed, he swung it wide, knocking several of them off of their horses in one motion.

  The horses neighed and kicked, charging the rest of the group, and causing chaos.

  Still, these knights were well trained, and did not let it faze them. Any other human knights would have dispersed immediately, but these, to Sam’s surprise, turned and re-grouped, forming a single line and charging for Sam.

  Sam was surprised at this, and wondered exactly where he was. Had he landed in some sort of elite warrior kingdom?

  Sam didn’t have time to figure it out. And he didn’t want to kill these humans. Part of him sensed that they weren’t out to kill; he felt they were out to confront, and maybe, to capture them.

  Or, more likely, to test them. After all, they had landed on their turf: he sensed that they wanted to see what they were made of.

  Sam had, at least, succeeded in diverting them from Polly. Now they charged only for him.

  He reached back with the lance, and aimed for the shield of their leader, wanting to stun but not kill him, and threw it.

  A direct hit. He knocked the shield clean out of his hand, and knocked him off of his horse. The knight landed with a loud clang of metal.

  Sam jumped forward and grabbed the sword and shield from the knight’s hands. Just in time, as several blows descended upon him. He blocked them all, and as he did, tore a mace from another knight’s hands. He grabbed on the long wooden shaft, reached back, and swung the deadly metal ball and chain in a wide arc. There was the clang of metal in every direction, as Sam managed to knock swords out of the hands of a dozen warriors. He continued swinging, hitting several on their shields and knocking them to the ground.

  But again, Sam was surprised. Any other human warriors would surely have dispersed in chaos; but not these men. Those who had been knocked off their horses, dazed, regrouped, grabbed
their weapons off the sand, and formed around Sam, encircling him. This time, they kept a greater distance, enough of a distance that Sam couldn’t reach them with the mace.

  More distressing, they all, from every direction, suddenly extracted crossbows off their backs, and aimed right for him. Sam could see they were loaded with silver-tip arrows. All meant to kill.

  Perhaps he had been too lenient with them.

  They didn’t fire, but they held him in their deadly sites. Sam realized he was in a bind. He couldn’t believe it. Any rash move could be his last.

  “Drop your bows,” came a cold, steely voice.

  The humans slowly turned their heads, and Sam turned his, too.

  He couldn’t believe it. Standing there, on the outer perimeter of the circle, was Polly. She held one of the soldiers in a deadly embrace, her forearm wrapped around his throat and holding a small silver dagger to his throat. The soldier stood there, frozen, unable to move in Polly’s grip, his eyes wide with fear, the look of a man about to die.

  “If not,” Polly continued, “this man dies.”

  Sam was stunned by the tone of her voice. He’d never seen Polly as a warrior, never seen her so cold and firm. It was like looking at a whole new person, and he was impressed.

  The humans, apparently, were impressed, too. Slowly, reluctantly, they dropped their crossbows, one by one, onto the sand.

  “Off your horses,” she commanded.

  Slowly, each one obeyed, dismounting. The dozens of human warriors stood there, at Polly’s mercy as she held the man hostage.

  “So. The girl saves the boy, does she?” suddenly came a loud, joyful voice. It was followed by a deep, hearty laughter, and all heads turned.

  From out of nowhere there appeared a human warrior, mounted on a horse, draped in furs, wearing a crown, and flanked by a dozen more soldiers. Clearly, from the look of him, he was their king. He had wild, orange hair, a thick, orange beard, and glowing, mischievous green eyes. He leaned back and laughed heartily, as he took in the scene before him.