by Amy Faye
“We summon the dead.”
The living room was emptied of the few pieces of furniture that was left in it. Terra swept the floors while Lance mixed salt and grave dirt into water, and used that to mop the floor. Once it was spiritually clean, though physically grimy, they both got on their hands and knees with chalk and drew out a large circle, surrounded by alchemical symbols, and then another circle around that.
Before she helped him clean the house, Terra went to the store and bought candles. All black. Calling the dead was a simple ritual, though things could go wrong easily. The complexity was in controlling the situation.
Black candles were powerful and amplified the magic in any spell where they were used, but they also warded against any malevolent entities that may wish to crash their seance.
“The floor needs to dry, and we have a few hours before midnight. Is there anything you want to do?” Lance asked, his eyes lingering on her face.
He looked like he wanted to do… something. She couldn't tell what, but it made her stomach flip.
“I'm wiped. Think I could take a nap on your bed?”
“Go ahead,” he said. She set her chalk down and left Lance to finish up the circle. She opened the door to his bedroom. The air smelled like him, and rosemary incense. A half-burned stick sat on the table next to his small bed, the burner sitting on top of a deck of tarot card.
His blanket was soft, and again it smelled like Lance. She buried her face into it, curious at how much she enjoyed his smell. Frustrated with how much she enjoyed it, too.
She closed her eyes, but not for long. She felt the bed move, shift under the weight of Lance joining her.
“Uh,” he said, noticing her eyes open and watching him. “Sorry, I just… I don't want to sleep on my mom's bed, and the couch is upside down in her room.”
“No, it's fine. Just don't make fun of me if I snore.” She smiled, trying to lighten the mood.
He got under the blanket with her. His smell overwhelmed her. She wanted to turn away from the wall, to turn towards him and wrap her arms around him. She wanted it so badly, that after a few moments, she did. Her arms looped under his, around his chest and tightened. She felt his breathing push his ribs out. She felt his exhale. She felt his hair against her face. Every movement made her chest ache, her stomach flip more and more.
Lance turned to face Terra, and he cupped her face in his hands. There was nothing in her that resisted. His lips fell on hers, and it felt right. She pressed her lips against his, and it felt right.
She didn't want his lips to leave hers, ever. Lance no longer felt like a stranger, he felt like an old lover, like a comfort, like a long lost friend. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer to him. Her leg wrapped over his hip, pulling him closer to her.
His breath was hot in her mouth. Her tongue was hot in his. She bit his bottom lip. Lance groaned, groping her butt. He kneaded the cheeks, and then slid his hand up her dress. He grabbed her breasts, brushing the rough skin on his hands against her nipples. She gasped into his mouth.
Terra pressed her hand against his crotch, feeling his hardness growing. She rubbed it from over the fabric, coaxing it to grow more and more. He swore, telling her how good it felt.
She undid his pants and slid her hand into his boxers. The tip of his cock was already wet with precum. Lance slid his hand down her panties. She was already wet, too.
At Terra slowly moved her hand up and down his meat, Lance pressed a finger against her entrance. She widened her legs. His finger popped in, and she hissed. It hurt, first, but then he put in a second finger and it felt good.
It felt so good.
She came quickly, grunting and shivering against him. He pulled her panties down, throwing them onto his floor, and pulled her on top of him. He lifted her dress over her head. It also fell to the floor.
Her breasts, in Lance's opinion, were perfect. They filled his hands just right. He wanted to feel them, always in his hands. He wanted no other hands to ever feel them. He felt suddenly jealous, possessive.
He pulled her down and sucked on her breasts, hard and with teeth. She sucked in air and pressed her pussy against him. His cock was hot as it hit her clitoris. She rubbed back and forth as Lance pinched and bit her nipples, until finally she lifted herself up and sat down on his manhood.
He entered her slowly. They both breathed hard, and sighed as the full length of his cock was swallowed within her. “Ride me,” he said. She obliged.
Terra's hips moved slowly at first. She enjoyed the movement, the moment, looking into his beautiful eyes as she fucked him. And then she moved faster, unable to control herself. She was driving them both to climax.
Lance grabbed her hips, helping her to move faster still, until they both screamed and orgasmed at once. His seed spilled inside of her, filling her.
Their arms and legs tangled together as they shifted again, laying next to each other. There was no awkwardness. There was only peace, until there was only sleep.
“Have you ever done this before?” Terra asked. She was nervous. She had only called the dead once before, and her sister had nearly died because of it, when they were only five. She was also nervous because the taste of Lance's lips was still on her mouth.
“Actually, calling the dead is why my mother got the Medal of Honor. It's a family tradition, and I was raised doing this.”
Terra breathed a sigh of relief, helping Lance to place the black candles around the circle. So that was how she acted as a spy. She wasn't infiltrating the vampire cities of France where she could be corrupted. She was speaking with the dead! There were three candles in the center of the circle, where the spirit would form if the ritual was done correctly.
She watched him, eyeing his behind as he bent over to bless each candle he placed on the ground. It was amazing to Terra that everything about the night, from the sex to this ritual, had felt so natural to her. She wondered if there was fate involved, but then chastised herself. Fate was always involved. It was rare that their lives were entirely their own.
“Alright, that's the last candle. Are you ready?” Lance wiped some wax on his hands onto his shirt. He grinned at her, and she grinned back.
“Hell yeah, let's do this.”
They sat in the circle, and Lance held his hands out to her. She grabbed them, and their arms formed a diamond around the three candles in the center of the circle. He closed her eyes, and so did she. They both silently repeated the prayer to call Elaninri Fleaas from her resting place, to join them for a few moments.
They waited, and there was nothing, until suddenly there was a scream. Terra jumped, and Lance's mouth fell open in horror as the flames grew and the apparition of his mother formed.
He was supposed to ask her where to go, what to look for, but his mouth wasn't moving. They didn't have long. Terra held his hands tight.
“Elaninri, where is Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Her eyes flicked to Lance. He was horrified.
There were only screams, ear piercing screams that drilled into one's heart.
“Where is Queen Anai? Who stole your Medal of Honor?” Terra repeated.
Finally, the apparition spoke through the scream. “Find The Great Sage!”
And the apparition was gone. Lance slumped forward as all the candles went dark. Terra broke the circle by wiping away the chalk with her bare foot and flicked the lights on to find him sobbing, his whole body shaking. “She's being punished even in death! She's being punished for something she didn't do!”
He turned his face up to her, tears falling from his chin. She ached, she ached everywhere, wanting, somehow, to heal his pain. Wanting to kiss his lips. Wanting to be his savior.
She didn't know how to comfort him, so she didn't. “Come on, you can mourn later. For now, we have to prepare. We have a mountain to climb.”
Terra took his hand and helped him up, pulling Lance into a tight embrace. They kissed until his tears stopped.
Chapter Three
Terra and Lance's faces were stinging and red from the cold. Neither were prepared for the steep climb up Varangoi Mountain, despite Terra insisting on buying warmer clothes and gear for both of them.
Lance had protested using her money, but she wouldn't let him say no. She felt responsible to him. Plus, he looked cute in the turtleneck sweater she gave him.
Her thoughts swirled with passions and emotions, things she kept to herself and some things she kept from herself. The way his fingers felt when they brushed a snowflake from her face, for instance, made her warm even in the frigid cold. The way his eyes watched her, ready to move if she fell on sharp rocks, made her feel safe. The way he touched her as he helped her up onto a ledge made her feel wanted, and left her wanting. Needing. Desiring.
While her mind was still focused on her mother, her heart was focused on him, and it confused her. If it came to a choice of finding Queen Anai, or keeping Lance alive and near her, which would she choose? Which would he want her to choose?
She wondered, too, if he had the same questions. Would he avenge his mother if it meant Terra must die?
She shuddered and continued walking on the path up the mountain. Jagged and broken, it wasn't a well-worn path. Few climbed Varangoi, the largest mountain of the Kylfing Mountain Range. This was for a few reasons.
One, the range stood between Mindren and France. France was the stronghold for Vampires, where they were more like a plague and nearly outnumbered humans. They still kept their existence secret, but only barely, and only because they used slaves to keep their blood lust out of the public eye.
Just being that close to France was enough to keep most witches out of the mountains, but it was the people who inhabited the mountains that really scared them away. Feral vampires, bloodthirsty and often starving, lived in the caves carved eons ago by their stronger ancestors.
They were already halfway up the mountain, and fatigue was setting in for both of them. Chewing on rabbit jerky, Lance turned to Terra. “I think we should rest,” he said.
She looked around. There were no caves visible, though the feral vampires were more than capable of hiding themselves when they wanted to. “Okay, but only for a little while. I want to get about a mile higher before we settle in for the night.”
There was a crunch behind her, feet in the snow. Terra turned, looking for where it came from, but there was nothing there. Lance's eyes questioned her, but she just waved him off. They looked for a patch of dirt that wasn't covered in snow and set down their backpacks when she heard the crunch again.
“Did you hear that?” She asked, crouching low and looking around. She breathed a spell to improve her vision, but still saw nothing.
“No,” he said, but then cried out. Something had grabbed him. Terra sprung forward and then finally saw their attacker- a small vampire, a girl, who looked like she had been turned at thirteen. Her eyes were yellow and hungry, hungrier than even the homeless of Mindren ever looked.
Her mouth opened and she hissed, baring her teeth too near Lance's throat.
“Get away from him,” Terra commanded, her voice crackling with energy while she gathered energy to blast the girl away. She couldn't kill the vampire, but she could fight her. “Borte!” With her yell, the energy gathered into a ball and hit both Lance and the feral vampire, sending them sprawling. They didn't break apart, the vampire held him on the ground as she screamed and struggled.
Lance moved suddenly, and then the vampires screams turned to whimpers, and then silence as she turned to ash. Terra looked on, unsure of what happened. The feral vampire was just… gone. Disappeared. Dust in the wind.
She sat in the snow and stared.
“Are you okay?” Lance asked, wiping a knife pulled from his boot with his shirt.
“She never touched me. Are you okay? How did you do that?”
He showed her the knife, crooked but sharp and shining in the sun. There were runes etched into it, runes that were so old even she couldn't recognize them. They seemed to originate from before the Futhark runes. She wasn't sure how she knew that. She just did.
“That knife can kill vampires?”
Lance nodded, grinning. “My dad gave it to me, before he died. I was young, but my mom let me keep it. I didn't know what it did until a vampire tried to abduct me in high school.”
“My gods,” she whispered, stepping closer, touching the dull side of the blade and feeling magic pulsing from it. “Lance, I am begging you, let me study this knife. When this is all over, whether we find my mother or not. Just this contribution could be enough to clear your name.”
“Sure, as long as you don't destroy it. It's all I have left of my dad.” He stuck the knife back in his left boot, patting it to make sure it was secure. “Now, come sit with me, and hold my hand.”
A mile higher up the mountain, the two were nearly ready to collapse from how tired they were. Neither needed to confirm with the other when they stopped. It happened naturally, when they found a small wooded area.
“Can you do a spell to see if we're safe here?” Lance asked, grabbing branches and placing them in a pile on a small patch of ground without snow.
“Yeah, and I'll set up a protective sphere, too. It should last long enough for us both to sleep, and cancel out the smoke of the fire at the same time.”
Lance nodded, flicking his fingers to start the fire. Terra closed her eyes, sitting on the freezing ground, her butt going numb. She focused on the world around her, listening for any life. A blue jay. A rabbit, and then many rabbits. Nothing larger. Nothing sapient.
Satisfied with the surroundings and the safety the trees provided, she then set up a bubble around them that would make them impossible to notice. Feral vampires had more magic at their disposal than most modern vampires, but they couldn't break her protection spells, especially not once they burned a branch with protective runes in the fire Lance had started.
“What do you think we'll find when we get up there?” He asked. Terra shrugged, looking up through the branches of the fir trees at the sky. A few stars twinkled down on them.
“An old man, mostly. Hopefully one with answers.”
Lance thought about that, then sighed. “I hear The Great Sage is crazy, though. Will we even be able to understand what he tells us?”
“Probably not, not easily. We'll have to meditate on it, and he might make us drink awful tasting potions so we can see as he sees. The man who adopted my sister and I went to see him once, to see what he should do with us. I guess we were unruly when we were toddlers.”
Lance chuckled. “Everyone is unruly when they're toddlers. I used to babysit my cousins. They were terrors!”
“Really? Well, he told us we were little monsters, and that The Great Sage did nothing but give him the foulest tasting drink he had ever had. He didn't even have visions after drinking it. He just puked for days.”
They both laughed at that, relaxing into the safety of their bubble under the stars. Lance shuffled closer to Terra, his hand brushing against hers. It hesitated, and then held her fingers, warming them both.
“Lance,” Terra started, unsure of what she wanted to say. She just wanted to understand. She wanted to understand what he was feeling, so that she could understand what she was feeling. Her chest ached.
“Do you ever wonder about your fate?” He asked her. His eyes seemed to be searching for something in the sky, until they turned to look into hers. Then he was searching for something within her. Something she wasn't sure she had.
Terra pulled her hand away, wrapping her arms around her legs and shivering. “I don't know. I know about The Fates. I know what they expect. But I don't know what the world expects, what people want of me. I don't know what I want of me. Everything is too confusing to see the future, where I'm headed. Maybe I'll wear a crown. Maybe I'll die in a ditch.”
Unsatisfied, Lance placed his chin in his hand, hunching over. “You are very strange, Terra Neithercutt. Do you want to wear the crown one day?”
&nb
sp; “No,” she said, needing not even one second to answer.
“No? Really? Isn't it your destiny?”
She shook her head. “It's my sister's destiny. Even if I were the oldest, I left. I avoided marriages for power. I want nothing to do with it. I want control over my life, the kind of control that I would never have in a throne.”
“You want freedom.”
“Yes. Freedom to be me. To run away if I need to. To never lie about my feelings to avoid war. To find my mother, even while my country refuses to do so.”
“The pursuit of freedom can be its own kind of leash.” Lance laid back on the ground, his arms out wide.
Terra ached to be in those arms, and so she laid on his chest, listening to the thumping in his chest. “I just want to choose for myself.”
Lance pressed his fingers against her chin, tipping her head up. He looked deep into her eyes. Neither of them understood each other, but they both desired that freedom.
His lips touched hers, and suddenly her freezing body was on fire. They kissed like that, their fingers running through each other's hair, for a long time. They tore off pieces of clothing with their lips still pressed together. They explored body parts, running their fingers over soft skin.
Terra rubbed her fingers along Lance's neck. He shivered, then bit her bottom lip. The way his lips felt against hers, the passion between them, made Terra fully aware of her feelings for him. Though they only barely knew each other, she burned for him, and she knew that whatever they might share, it was their destiny.
She felt overwhelmed by anxiety. Her arms pulled him closer to her, clinging to him as she panted for him. “I don't want to let go of you.”
“You don't have to.”
“I'm scared I might,” she said, pressing her face into his neck. “I'm scared of what we'll find at the top.”
Lance kissed her neck, then her cheek, then her nose. “We'll figure it out. Be strong.”
With their little section of the mountain growing warmer with their fire and their bodies generating heat as well, they pressed their naked bodies together, and Lance entered her. He was so hard, and she was so wet.
