The Vampire Gift 2: Kingdom of Ash

by E. M. Knight

  Neither of us missed her referring to me as “eldest,” either.

  It means she is truly set in her verdict against James.

  “The link, sweetest,” Mother repeats, still looking out into the night. “Oh, poor thing, you didn’t think you’d be able to hide it from me, did you?”

  Victoria looks like she’s swallowed a plum. “It’s only a trifling thing— ” she begins.

  Mother turns on her in a fury. “Do NOT lie to me!” she screams. Power crackles out from her like a storm. A sudden wind blows through the window, making her dress and hair flare. She looks more menacing than ever. “I know it was your blood Eleira tasted first! I know the ritual you attempted to perform! How else, why else, would my precious human witch come back here bearing the full powers of The Ancient? It is only through you!”

  The wind dies. The storm of electricity ebbs away. Everything goes still again, but the reverberations of Mother’s words echo around us and through the room like ghouls haunting the place.

  Victoria blinks, maybe frightened—maybe acting? She gives a series of small nods. “You’re right, of course. You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s only that, I’m just beginning to understand the link myself—”

  “Another lie,” Mother cuts her off. “Very well, child. If you insist on playing games, perhaps some time in the Silver Cell would be good for you.” She glances at Phillip, who supressed a quick shudder. “Smithson, why don’t you escort our guest to her quarters at the top of the castle? She can emerge after I decide enough time has passed for her to reconsider some of her… attitudes.”

  “With pleasure, my Queen,” Smithson bows. He goes to Victoria and twists both her arms behind her back. The petite vampire doesn’t struggle against him, even though I know she easily rivals him in pure strength.

  “Try anything I wouldn’t like,” Mother warns, “and you’ll find out just how well your borrowed power stands up against my true witchcraft.” She gives Victoria a nasty smile. “Fair warning. Ta-ta.”

  With that, Smithson leads her out the room.

  The doors close. Mother, Phillip and I are finally alone.

  “Well!” Mother says. “That was certainly something. Wouldn’t you say?”

  “You’re toying with her,” Phillip says. “She might take it quietly for now, but it only fuels her anger. Did you not see how she looked at you once you made the accusation?”

  “You’re just the one to speak about meekness,” Mother mocks. “Aren’t you, Phillip?”

  He starts to respond, but I cut in before he can speak. “Enough distractions. We came here to talk about James.”

  “There’s nothing to talk about,” Mother snaps. “His fate is sealed. My decision has been made.”

  “You have the power to reverse it,” I say. “Yes, we know he went against you. Yes, we understand that you’re angry. But surely nothing he did deserves the harshest punishment!”

  “The harshest?” Mother laughs. “Raul, if you think being allowed to live beneath The Haven is the harshest punishment, you are mistaken. Your brother here—” she motions at Phillip, “—knows all about the harshest punishment. He saw me inflict it upon Jacob.”

  Phillip takes a step toward her. “You would never do that to James,” he says.

  It sounds more like an order than an admonition. I look at him in surprise.

  That is definitely not the Phillip I know to use such a tone with our Mother.

  The Queen blinks, also taken back by the force behind Phillip’s words. But then she sighs and admits, “No, I suppose not. Such a fate is reserved for the usurpers… or those planning to challenge my rule.”

  “Of which Jacob did neither,” Phillip snarls. Something about him is very off. The aggression he’s showing seems to be almost uncontained.

  Mother waves the accusation away. “Jacob and Patricia have caused me more trouble than you know over the years. If it helps your conscience, know that it was not only the murder of my guards that sealed his fate.

  My stomach drops. “You charged Jacob with murder?” I ask, my voice shallow.

  Mother turns to me. “Why yes, Raul,” she says curiously. “I did. Funny that you would take such an interest in the matter. Don’t you think?”

  I clear my throat. “Jacob was a friend.”

  “And the guards he killed were my loyal servants,” Mother replies. “Surely four lives lost is worthy of the punishment he received.”

  “I’m telling you, it couldn’t have been him,” Phillip insists. “He wasn’t strong enough to take on four of your best.”

  “Well, he obviously had help,” Mother says. “His wife was one, for example. You know, I was hoping you would be more resolute in your stance against taking human blood, Phillip. I would have loved the opportunity to be rid of her. But…” she spreads her hands. “A just ruler never reneges on her word.”

  Even more guilt eats me up inside that Jacob has to suffer because of what I did. I killed the guards. Somebody else took the fall.

  The only solace I have is the feeling that Mother would have taken the slightest excuse to get rid of him, no matter how small or meaningless. The human lives I saved should help balance the scales of my conscience… but for some reason, they do not.

  Since when have I become so sentimental?

  I clear my throat, “Back to the subject of James—”

  “There is NOTHING for us to talk about!” Mother screams. “Bring him up again and you’ll see how far my good will goes.” Her eyes blaze at me. “Don’t test me. Especially not now. Don’t test me, son.”

  A terse silence descends on the room. Phillip moves to speak—but is interrupted when the door swings open.

  A breathless vampire guard stands in their midst.

  Mother turns on him in a rage. “You better have good reason to interrupt.”

  “The humans,” he gulps. “They’ve begun to riot.”

  The Queen curses.

  “That’s not all,” he adds. “Your eldest son, James? He’s missing.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  JAMES

  Seeing Raul was an unexpected ray of hope in the dark. However, it was extinguished the moment I understood that no matter his intentions, there was nothing he could do.

  Mother made her decision, and I don’t expect him to change that. No matter how persuasive Raul manages to be.

  And yet… only minutes after he left, a strange sort of resonance descends in the air. At first I think it’s my imagination. After all, the silver bars and the silver collar could be making me delirious.

  But as I try to ignore the sensation, it only grows stronger.

  It grows and grows and grows until the tautness is palpable.

  Then, without warning, the entire cell starts to shake. There’s a breaking roar, and the ground beneath me gives way.

  I leap aside to avoid falling. Everything goes still. The resonance is gone. Only the sound of crumbling soil reaches my ears.

  I edge closer and peer into the crater. Far, far below me, I can see the faint outline of an underground river.

  “Jump,” a voice whispers in my mind.

  I am so shocked by it that I lose my footing. Before I know it, I’m throttling through the air toward the water below.

  I hit the surface with a gasp. An icy cold takes me. The water is freezing. I have never been the best swimmer…

  Still, I fight the current until I emerge at the surface. The river thrashes me this way and that until I cling to a jutting rock in its middle.

  I look up, trying to make out how far I’ve fallen. But the rapids sweep me far from where I hit the water. All I see is the enormous, cavernous ceiling above.

  The collar around my neck distresses me. I try tugging on it to help me breathe easier, but the silver burns my fingers.

  At least I’m free.

  Was Raul behind this? The timing was impeccable. It couldn’t have been just blind luck that let me free, could it?

  No. If there’s one t
hing I’ve learned over my long centuries of life, it’s that luck does not exist. Luck is what those fools jealous of others’ ascent to the top claim was behind their success.

  And yet… I can’t help but feel that my escape was engineered by… somebody.

  I don’t know who. And I’m not out of the woods yet. The voice I heard—was that real, or just imagined?

  I’ve dawdled for too long. As soon as my cell is discovered empty, Mother is going to send all her guard after me. And I don’t know yet where this river leads.

  “So long, Haven,” I mutter under my breath. “You hold no meaning for me anymore.”

  And so I dive back into the river and go wherever the current takes me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  ELEIRA

  No matter my insistence, Patricia absolutely refuses to come with me to the blood banks. In the end, I resort to brining her bottles after bottles of fresh blood.

  She devours them with a speed I never thought possible.

  How long has it been since her last drink?

  Her appearance improves by the minute. After she’s had her first sip, the changes sweep over her like tides retreating from a beautiful beach.

  Her skin, which was borderline translucent before, becomes plump and shining. Her hair, so brittle when she came into my room, turns full and thick. Even the muscles on her body look stronger, fuller, more toned.

  By the time her thirst is satiated, she even has her womanly figure back.

  “How do you feel?” I ask when she’s done. I have a burning curiosity about the whole process—about how rapidly the change came about and how quickly she was restored and what it must be like to go through it.

  “B-better,” she mumbles. Despite the outward difference, she’s still meek as a babe.

  “Patricia, we’re alone,” I remind her softly. I look around my room. “There’s absolutely no need for you to feel inferior to me.”

  Her eyes widen, then take on a haunted look. “It’s not that,” she utters under her breath. “It’s just… now that my senses are back, I can better tell how strong you really are.” She meets my eyes for a second, and then quickly looks away. “It’s astounding.”

  I click my tongue in annoyance. This blasted vampire hierarchy is going to be the end of me. What use is being so strong if it means everyone around is either terrified, envious, or hateful toward you?

  “Can we not talk about that?” I say. “I’d much rather discuss—”

  I’m cut off by the sound of stamping feet outside my door. I feel a bunch of vampires rush by in the hall.

  One of them stops on the other side. He’s about to raise his fist to knock, but in my excitement to see him I pre-empt the attempt by arriving there first. I fling the door open.

  “Raul!” I exclaim. I want to embrace him—but stop short when I see the Queen watching us from behind.

  His expression is ghastly. “James has escaped,” he tells me without preamble. “And the humans are rioting. We think this is an attempt against The Haven, but—” he glances back at his entourage, “—we’re not sure.”

  “Why? An attempt? By whom?”

  “Who else?” the Queen laughs. “By my husband’s coven.”

  Raul turns back to me. “If it’s true, we have a fight on our hands. I need you to stay here, where you’re safe—”

  “No!” I prompt. “I’m not going to be cooped up while you face the danger.”

  “Eleira, you’re newly made,” he tells me in the same tone one would use explaining something simple to a child. “You have no conception of your powers, or the dangers you might face. You’ve done a spectacular job controlling yourself so far—” he glances at the ring on my finger, “—but in a free-for-all, where nothing can be predicted or controlled—that’s too much stimulation for you. There’s no telling what might happen.”

  “If this is an attack against The Haven, I want to help defend my home!” I proclaim.

  The Queen arches one prim eyebrow. “You already consider this your home?” she asks softly.

  I curse inwardly. I must have spoken in the heat of the moment. But I can’t take the words back now.

  “Home or not,” Raul continues, ignoring both me and his Mother, “you’re safest here. There are spells protecting the castle.”

  “If she wants to go,” Morgan says thoughtfully. “Who are we to stop her?”

  Raul growls at his Mother as she sweeps by him and extends her hand. “Come with me, child,” she tells me. “I thought I would need to give you three days, but it seems you’ve already made your choice.”

  She smiles, then, and I can’t help the feeling it’s the smile of a cat who’s just caught a canary in her claws.

  ***

  When we get to the underground caverns where the humans are held, it’s absolute madness. From our vantage point high above, I see a clear divide in the mass below me. On one side stand all the villagers—yelling, screaming, shouting their lungs out—and on the other, a wall of vampire guards keeping them away from the exit.

  The Queen takes one look at it and strides to the front of our group. She stops at the very end of the jutting-out rock, and hits her staff against the floor three times. On the first, nothing happens. Neither does anything on the second.

  But on the third, an enormous blue flame flares from the tip. It soars into the sky where it coalesces into a bright orb like the sun. Then, with a thunderous crash, it explodes, sending blue streamers of light down like a thousand fireworks.

  That gets everyone’s attention.

  Her voice rings out into the sudden quiet.

  “What,” she demands of those below her, “is the meaning of this?”

  The humans all shy back, having witnessed the power of their ruler.

  “Leonardo,” Morgan addresses a guard below. “You were the one charged with keeping the peace.” Her voice is icy-calm, which makes it all the more dangerous. “Tell me how this all got so out of control.”

  “My Queen,” the singled-out guard drops to his knees immediately. “The prisoners complained they were hearing voices.” His inflection leaves no doubt as to how ludicrous he thinks that is. “They said a strange voice began telling them the caverns would collapse. They demanded to be let out. We refused. As per your orders."

  “Voices?” the Queen asks. “What sort of voices?”

  “We heard nothing, my Queen,” Leonardo replies, motioning to the other vampires. “We considered it a ruse, an excuse for the humans to cause trouble. With your permission—” his eyes flash, “—we could select the troublemakers from their midst and remind them of their place.”

  “No,” Morgan says immediately. “You know the rules. No human blood is to be shed except on the night of The Hunt.”

  “It was only a suggestion,” Leonardo mutters.

  “An ill-placed one,” the Queen says. She turns and addresses the villagers, who are huddled together in frightened packs. “My guards claim you heard voices. Is this true?”

  Only silence greets her question.

  She clicks her tongue. “Maybe the voices you heard robbed you of your own?” She laughs. “Very well. You!” She singles out a villager with her staff. A beam of faint blue light shines on him from the end. “Come forward. What is your name?”

  “M-Melvin,” he stutters.

  A ring of space clears all around him.

  “You know who I am?” Morgan asks.

  “Of course.” The man sounds positively terrified to be speaking to the Queen.

  “And if I ask you a question, you would never dream of lying to me in response. Would you, Melvin?”

  “N-no.”

  “Good.” I can hear the Queen’s smile in her words. “Then tell me all you can about these voices. But know—” she adds before he starts to speak, “—that I have a very low tolerance for liars. You may begin.”

  Melvin dry washes his hands a few times. He clears his throat. “It…” he tries. “The Voice… it…”

>   “Get on with it, man!” Morgan exclaims.

  He shies back as if physically hit. “It…”

  “The Voice told us that he’s going to make the caves collapse!” Somebody shouts from the midst of humans. “He said we would all die, that we’d all be crushed under the rock!”

  “Who speaks now?” Morgan shines her beam into the crowd. “Step forth!”

  A young boy, maybe a year or two younger than me, emerges.

  “And what’s your name, boy?”

  The boy bristles. “It’s Brayson,” he says defiantly. “And I don’t have a last name because it was stolen from me! Just like my life here in your Haven!”

  “My Haven?” The Queen takes a gratuitous step back. “My dear child, this sanctuary belongs to all of us. Surely you understand that?”

  “The sanctuary,” he spits, “belongs to the vampires. You keep us hostage here. We are your prey!”

  “My, my,” Morgan mutters. “You’ve got quite the spirit. Tell me, did this ‘voice’ also give you such dangerous thoughts?”

  “The thoughts are my own,” he tells her boldly. “And they’re not dangerous. They’re true!”

  Morgan looks at him… and then laughs in response.

  “Is that so?” she asks. “Look around you, Brayson. See how many supporters you’ve got.”

  She shines her light on the other humans, all of whom are quick to step out of the way.

  “You see?” she asks. “They understand what you do not. Maybe you are still young. Maybe you are a dreamer. But understanding will come in time. I promise you.”

  “Oh?” he challenges her. “And what understanding is that?”

  “That your place in The Haven is part of a divine equilibrium that keeps us safe. We provide you food, water, shelter. We ask for nothing in return.”

  “You ask for our lives!”

  Morgan waves the accusation aside easily. “We take your blood, yes, but it is for the good of the whole. Without it, society here would collapse. Look upon your elders! They know.”

  Again she breaks her light through the other humans. They either keep their heads down or mumble in agreement.