by E. M. Knight
I hurl the door open, forgetting all pretense, and charge into the room. The shadow looks up. It stays still just long enough for me to see its true shape. It’s a horribly grotesque creature, maybe the size of a large rat. Its whole body is swathed in wisps of black that fall from it like pluming smoke.
A snarl comes from its throat. The moment it sees me it flees into the far corner of the room.
I run to Victoria. She collapses before I get to her. She’s still breathing—but barley.
Her eyes are halfway lidded, and the stench of corruption washes over me from her wounds.
“Kill… it,” she whispers.
I rise. I can’t do anything for her, not now, not with that creature in the room.
But what is it? I wonder.
With an ear-splitting screech it launches itself at me, all teeth and claws and hate-filled fury. I can’t move out of the way fast enough, but I manage to twist my body just enough for the thing to glance off.
My claws come up and I cut it on the underside, in that precious moment when we’re together. A thick, viscous liquid coats my hand and immediately starts to burn the skin.
This isn’t blood. It’s much worse than blood.
As fast as I can, I wipe it off on my cloak. The creature lands on its back and scrambles upright, hissing and snarling.
But it doesn’t attack again.
I position myself between it and Victoria. It snaps its jaws at me, but does nothing more.
Suddenly, all the silver in the room makes its effect known. I don’t know how I endured it before. Maybe I was running on adrenaline. But now, all my senses start to wobble, and vertigo and nausea and disorientation hit as a horrible trifecta of afflictions.
I stagger back, refusing to take my eyes off the creature, knowing that if I fail it will kill Victoria. I’m no hero. I don’t know what it is about Victoria that would have me risk my life.
But I’m doing it now. So be it. I’ve committed. I can’t turn back.
“Come on, you bastard. Let’s see what you got.” My lips curl back and I show my fangs.
The creature stops its hissing. It looks at me…
Then turns around and flees out the door.
I stare after it, stupefied.
That was all it took?
Then I hear Victoria groan below me. Immediately I twist back. Blood is oozing from her wounds. It’s not healing as it should.
I fall to my knees beside her. I pick her up and cradle her head in my arms.
“Victoria… Victoria, no,” I say. A torrent of unwanted and unexpected feelings gush through me. Fear. Failure. Guilt.
“I’ll get you out,” I say. I lift her up and stagger to my feet. She feels so frail beneath me. I can feel the life force draining from her body. Her eyes flicker back and forth from seeing to unseeing. The wounds smell ripe with corruption.
Stumbling and disoriented because of the silver, I manage to find my way out of the room. I fall against the wall in the hall, a strange fatigue setting in.
I hear footsteps racing up the stairs.
I curse. If I stay, my whole purpose here would be compromised. If I’m caught now, I might as well forsake my own life.
As gently as I can, I put Victoria down. She groans as her body touches the floor. I look through the open door of the cell and see her blood staining the stone.
My hand still feels like it’s on fire, despite having wiped all of the creature’s internal fluids off.
The footsteps get louder. I can feel two—no, three vampires running up toward us. I look around.
The stairs are the only way down.
I’m trapped.
From below me I hear the creature’s hissing shriek again. A blast shakes the chamber, like a stick of dynamite going off. The castle rumbles. From around the corner comes the briefest flash of blue light.
Those snarling, hissing, guttural sounds of the creature continue on below. It’s engaged with the three vampires, one of whom is Mother, I’m sure.
My eyes search the walls for a cavity, for some sort of hiding place. I find one, far in the corner, right by the second closed door.
“Don’t move,” I tell Victoria. A part of me wants to run down and aid the others in the fight. Not from any great sense of altruism, but because I want the opportunity to finish the thing that maimed Victoria and embarrassed me so.
Whoever heard of a vampire being bested by a rat?
She groans something incomprehensible in response. I debate just pulling her with me, but her strength would give us away. The only reason I stand a chance hiding is Riyu’s magnificent cloaking spell.
So, feeling both a coward and a fool, I jump into that tiny pocket of darkness, hoping against hope that whoever comes up and discovers Victoria won’t notice me right away.
Three against one aren’t the best of odds… but with the element of surprise on my side, I reckon I’ll be able to do a little bit of damage if it comes down to a fight.
Chapter Fifty-Four
ELEIRA
Something jerks my attention to the door. The view latch slides open… and James peers inside.
Shock ripples through me. What’s James doing here? Could I be seeing things? Could my senses be so addled by the silver?
But no, it’s him. I’d recognize those cruel, vindictive eyes anywhere. Although, now, they look somehow… subdued. Somehow… haunted.
A million questions rifle through my mind. Where did he come from? Why did he come? Is he searching for… me?
I stand up and raise one arm. James makes no response. His eyes glide over the entirety of the room, completely unseeing.
Morgan’s spell is still active.
Then abruptly he slams the latch shut. I start to sneak for the door. If he swings it open…
But he’s gone. The faint hint I had of his presence disappears like the scent of a wilting flower on a cold wind.
I return to the middle of the room. Barely any time passes before I hear a blood-curling scream.
I blink in confusion. Victoria?
Suddenly a torrent of images pours into my head:
A dark, silver cell nearby, identical to this one. James is standing at the door, having flung it open. Movement, dark movement, movement that’s getting nearer, nearer…
I grunt and blink through the barrage of images, bringing a hand to my head. They’re so real, it feels like I’m seeing them before me now, like I’m in some sort of vivid dream.
They continue to assault my mind:
A streaking black object leaping into the room. Panic flaring. James throwing the door shut in my face…
I hear it slam shut and realize that what I’m seeing—it’s happening in real time, in another cell nearby.
I’m looking through Victoria’s eyes.
But how can that be? I thought I’d blocked her off. The connection—
The connection suddenly flares into life once more, and there is no hesitance, no doubt this time: I am completely in her mind.
And it’s not just images I see. I feel what she feels. I know all she knows.
I feel her rage at being abandoned by James. I feel her hatred toward me, and all that unguarded jealousy. Her mind is a storming cauldron of emotions.
But she doesn’t know I’m there.
Victoria only gets the briefest chance to react as something heavy and fast slams into her and knocks her to the ground. She cries out as she lands on her back.
And there, through her eyes, I see it. The evil, menacing, raging Narwhark I’d unleashed. It attacks her like a savage dog.
Her hands come up in self-defence and her claws and fangs come out. But the Narwhark is too fast, too hungry, too angry. It rips right through her defenses and sinks its curling pointed teeth into her shoulder, her arms, her abdomen.
Victoria screams. I hear it both in the air and in my mind. The pain she feels is doubled in my body.
I crash to my knees and grab my head, willing the images out, out, out. But
as the Narwhark continues to attack, and all I can see is its blurred black form, my connection with Victoria only strengthens, until I’m fully inhabiting her body, until I’m trapped inside like in some sort of horrible dream.
The cell door opens. James is there. He rushes back in.
The Narwhark leaps off. Victoria’s eyes droop shut. Her vital energy is draining out of her. The wounds she sustained are corrupted with the demon’s spit, and her body cannot heal them, cannot close them up in time.
Her head rolls one way. She looks toward the creature.
And I see, for the very first time, just what the Narwhark is.
The little black shadow is but a tiny piece of its horrifying body. I see the demon as a faint outline traced in blue light. Its head is massive, its arms and legs thick as a bear’s. Long, terrible claws extend from paws that are gnarled with finger-like digits. Its skin is cracked and leathery with nauseating splotches of color here and there, like a diseased reptile. Its neck curls right before it protrudes into the head, giving it the look of a spindly thing, almost like the curved ark of a reaper’s deadly blade.
Then the vision fades, and the Narwhark is that little black blur again, streaking toward James.
Victoria’s eyes fully close.
I don’t get to see what happens next. I’m plunged into sudden darkness. I feel a sudden crack at the back of my head.
Pain. Horrible, blistering pain as the connection between Victoria and me severs.
I fall to the floor. The pain continues unabated, lashing through my head in sharp jabs of agony. My jaw clenches as I clutch my head.
Pain, pain, and more pain washes through me, unrelenting, unstopping, and there’s nothing I can do to lesson it. I cannot even cry out. It feels like my mind is breaking,
As the reverberations of the cut connection with Victoria continue to pulse through my body, my last thought is of Raul and how I never told him how I feel.
The world pitches into a thick and inky black.
Chapter Fifty-Five
SMITHSON
I race up the stairs ahead of the Queen, Witchbane unsheathed and at the ready in my hand.
When she alerted me to a potential breakout from the silver cells… I was sure that I’d been compromised. I never thought James would be stupid enough to rescue his woman from the tower.
For a few minutes, I’d dared to hope it had been Raul, gone to save Eleira as I’d none too subtly suggested…
But when I ran into him while racing to the castle, all hope went out. Now, the only thing I can do is pledge ignorance about James. But that’s a horrible demonstration of my worth as Captain Commander.
We run up a flight of stairs. From the top a snarling black blur flies out. “Watch out!” I scream and jump in the way of the Queen.
The Narwhark strikes my blade with a sickening hiss. The force of impact nearly knocks the weapon from my hand. The demonic creature falls back, then picks itself up again.
Black liquid oozes down the blade. I watch, aghast, as the metal starts to warp and droop like a melting icicle.
Such rage takes me then. In all my centuries of life this blade has been my sole companion, the one constant, the only thing in which I could trust. And now, a single parry against the Narwhark, and it’s… ruined.
Before I can do anything the Queen strikes out. Blue light explodes from her staff. A solid beam of it sears the spot where the Narwhark had been.
But the demon is deceptively fast. It leaps out the way so the Queen’s attack hits nothing but stone. The force of impact makes the whole chamber shake.
Morgan swears. Meanwhile, I drop my sword, knowing it will do me little good. I extend my claws and ready myself to attack—
Raul is there before me. He jumps for the demon, trying to get it with his claws. Again the damnable creature darts away, quick as silver.
“Go!” Morgan grabs my shoulder and shoves me up the stairs. “Go, check on Eleira and Victoria! You cannot fight the Narwhark. Only I can!”
“I won’t leave you,” I start.
At that moment the demon mounts its own attack.
It leaps up and hits me in the side. Both of us go hard into the wall. I only just manage to get my hands up in time to prevent it from digging its teeth into my body. Then there’s another beam of light, more compact and thinner this time, like a laser beam. The Narwhark cannot get disentangled from me in time.
It screeches as the ray of magic hits. In a fury, it spins around and jumps off. Then, seeing the way down blocked, it bounds up the stairs, back the way it had come.
For half a second I’m too dazed to move. The Queen’s attack was precise, and perfectly aimed, but if the Narwhark had moved even a fraction of an inch… if that beam had hit me…
In that brief moment, I fully realize what sort of woman she is. And the guilt that has started to creep up about my true intentions after she had taken me to bed instantly vaporizes. I’d let myself grow soft, let myself be taken in by her.
Well, no more.
I jump to my feet. I share a look with Raul. He realizes, at the same time, exactly what I did: The Queen would have killed me if she missed.
There is no sympathy in his eyes.
“Come on,” he grunts, and chases after the Narwhark.
I follow him, Morgan quick on my heels.
We get to the top. I skid to a halt and curse. The door to Victoria’s room is wide open. But the tanned vampire lies on the floor in front of us. There are nasty, infected wounds all over her body.
I scan the surroundings for the demon. I don’t see it.
“It must have gone in the silver cell,” I exclaim. I run forward to close the door. “If we seal it inside—“
Just then, a tall, man-shaped streak blurs toward the Queen. I’m too startled, too thrown off, too distracted by the loss of my sword, to do anything.
I hadn’t noticed the vampire hidden in the shadows.
He collides with the Queen and knocks the staff from her hand. It skitters across the floor.
I catch a glimpse of his face, and realize that it’s James.
Chapter Fifty-Six
JAMES
The creature comes leaping up the stairs. I watch from my hiding place as it pauses for a flicker of a second, looking at Victoria.
My body tenses. If it tries to attack her, I won’t just turn the other cheek. I’ll need to help.
But the decision is taken out of my hands when the sound of pursuit scares the thing into the silver cell.
I go absolutely still as three vampires spill out into view. First is Raul. Next is Smithson. And finally…
My own Mother, the Queen. She is carrying her staff.
I can hardly believe my luck.
If I’m only given one chance, this is it. As Smithson rushes to slam the door shut, I spring from my hiding place and go straight for Mother. The only reason I stand a chance is because she is momentarily distracted by the sight of Victoria on the ground.
I body-slam into her. The staff flies out of her hand. Such a look of surprise flashes on her face—she hadn’t been expecting to be taken unaware. But then she sees that it’s me. Her mouth twitches up in a crude smile.
“Come to claim your place as one of The Convicted?” she mocks.
I have no time for fun here. I push off and dive for her torrial.
But somewhere in all the confusion I had forgotten about my brother. Raul reaches it at exactly the same time as I do. His hand wraps around the staff simultaneously with mine.
“Don’t get in the way, little brother,” I snarl. “This doesn’t involve you!”
He flashes accusatory eyes at Victoria. “You did that,” he condemns.
I laugh, even though I don’t feel it on the inside. “Don’t tell me you care about her. I thought Eleira was the one true love for you. Bored of her already?”
“Never,” Raul snarls. He tries to jerk the staff out of my hands. I hold on tight.
In the back of my mind I
wonder how it is neither Mother nor Smithson have tried to interfere.
I cast a quick glance back. Mother is kneeling over Victoria’s body, eyes closed, muttering some sort of incantation while running her hands over the other woman’s wounds. Smithson has his shoulder jammed against the door of the silver cell. It shakes and trembles as the thing inside tries to break out.
“What are you doing here?” Raul demands. “You got out, you were free. Why did you come back?”
We grapple some more over the staff. “I came for precisely this,” I hiss. “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll give it to me now!”
“Why should I?” Raul challenges. “What do you want with it, James?”
“That doesn’t concern you.”
“On the contrary. Anything of interest to you does.”
I swear and try to fight him off, but his grip is impossible to break.
“Raul!” Mother gasps his name. “Eleira—you must get Eleira to me! If Victoria dies, and the connection still exists between their minds, there’s nothing I’ll be able to do. Hurry! Forget about him!”
Raul casts one last look at me… and shoves off. He runs for the door of the second silver cell. The empty one, with nobody inside.
I don’t have time to contemplate his irrational behavior. Glorious triumph seizes me as I hold the staff in both hands. With this I will be vindicated, with this I will be redeemed in my Father’s eyes.
A maddened sort of laughter takes hold. With this staff in hand—
I don’t get to finish my thought. The amulet around my neck quivers with sudden energy. A surge of power explodes out from it and runs through my body.
“YES, BOY!” The Ancient roars in my mind. “YES, YOU HAVE GIVEN IT TO ME. YES, YES, YES!”
The power concentrates in my fingertips and flows into the staff. I lose all sense of self as The Ancient takes control of my body. I feel him in my head, in my limbs, I hear his snarling, zealous, depraved euphoria spoken in a language I do not know.
Suddenly, all the power from the amulet surges into the staff. A light brighter than anything I’ve seen explodes outward from it. Mother, in shock, cries out, “No!”
