Vampire Magic 1: TASTE - Kingdom of Blood and Ash

by D. S. Murphy

  I didn’t understand half of the technology he showed me or seemed most proud of, but I smiled politely. Every once and a while I would ask questions about how something worked.

  “Why don’t we have all this stuff in the compounds?” I asked.

  “Technology is a weapon,” he replied. “Humans can be violent, even dangerous if left to their own devices. Besides, if they didn’t have to work, what would they fill their time with?”

  I bit my lip to hide a frown. I’d spent my childhood risking my life to feed my family, but apparently King Richard thought the task of survival kept us from worse trouble. We stood at the edge of a platform, looking out over sculpted gardens. The king’s flowing cape was lined with red fabric, and fluttered in the wind. He was carrying a black cane with a gold handle, which seemed almost as impractical as the thin gold crown on his head. My blue dress sparkled brightly, contrasting with his dark ensemble. People started to notice us. They gathered in hushed circles, or trailed at a respectful distance. In a few places they actually stopped to cheer. King Richard led us up the hill and through the palace gates, past a line of about twenty soldiers. Once we were alone again, he stopped suddenly to face me.

  “It’s come to my attention that my son is neglecting his duties to you. Or perhaps, you’re neglecting your duties to my son.”

  “I’m sorry,” I stuttered, blushing. “I’m not sure what I’m supposed to do—”

  “There’s no hard rules for this sort of thing,” he said. “Not until after the trials, and the official wedding. At that point of course, if the marriage wasn’t consummated in blood, it would be a problem. But even so, you can appreciate that the public is bound to talk, and they may be wondering, if Damien isn’t interested in you for your body or blood, why he did chose you?”

  The king quirked an eyebrow as if waiting for a response, but I had none to give him. I’d been asking myself the same thing since I got here and was no closer to finding answers.

  “Come, I want to show you something.”

  We followed a steep road that snaked down the hill and ended against the face of a rocky cliff. It was around the other side from the main palace where the Presentation ceremony had taken place, just inside the outer gates. A heavy metal door, twice as tall as the king, was set into the solid rock. The king raised his fingertip to a keypad, and then scanned his eye against a panel. The door slid open smoothly with a hum and we headed inside.

  “To understand the present,” he said, “we must understand the past. I’m sure you’ve heard stories of the Before, and of the race wars. But you can’t fully appreciate it until you’ve seen what it was like. That’s why I built the citadel here, in this location.”

  Inside, the tunnel extended into a large cavern. Historical reliefs of great battles were etched into the walls. In the center of the cave was a crystal blue lake, so deep I couldn’t see the bottom. And in the center of the lake, a small island, with a bench and two torches. Stepping stones made a path across the still waters, and beams of colored light illuminated the scene. As we got closer I saw that the entire island was composed of white polished bones, and the torches were actually made of skulls; with flickering flames emerging from jaw and eye sockets. The pile continued under the water, fading into the inky depths as far as I could see.

  “What is this place?” I asked, a chill running up my spine. And why bring me here?

  “The site of the last battle,” said the king. “The elite were tired of being persecuted. They wanted safety for their own kind, so they retreated to this natural stronghold. The humans followed them, and trapped them here until they were sick with blood lust. That was a mistake. After losing their humanity, the elite tore through their attackers by the thousands, then gathered up the remains. The pile grew so large, it formed a mountain that could be seen for miles in all directions. The elite kept the survivors in cages, and bled them dry. They farmed humans like chickens, killing them for sport and chewing flesh off their bones.”

  “The humans learned to stay away from the stronghold, but suffered in the ash. Always on the run, always sick, always dying. The elite, meanwhile, were devolving into monsters, and without a steady supply of food, they were forced to brave the poisonous ash. Both races were on the brink of extinction when I gathered them together and proposed a truce. We signed an agreement, which became the covenant. I built this cavern to preserve the memory. Of what was, and of what could be again.”

  “What do you mean?” I asked.

  “I’ve spent a century perfecting the system, and we’ve had nearly 98 years of peace. Humans don’t remember what it was like before. Some of them imagine that they could create something better; that they could survive without the help of the elite. But they’re wrong. It’s either this, or something much worse, for everyone.”

  I gulped, wondering if he was talking about the rebels.

  “See that sword out there?” he asked.

  I looked towards where he was pointing, and saw a collection of skeletons forming together a giant fist, holding the sword to the sky. The fist was so large it made the sword look like a toothpick. “I put it there to remind myself that I don’t want to be that kind of ruler. That when I take my sword out for battle, many people will die. It’s always better to choose diplomacy and control.”

  “Why are you showing me this?” I asked. The air in the cave was stale, and it felt like I was breathing death itself into my lungs. I needed to get outside. Even without the sword, I knew King Richard could end my life a thousand different ways. Did Damien tell him what I saw? Was he warning me to be quiet? Did he know what I was, a renitent?

  “There is a reason why all things are as they are. The choosing, the trials—everything I do is to preserve the peace, on both sides, because it’s better than the alternative. My son has not always understood this truth. But it’s important that you keep him in line, and help him understand that it has to be this way.”

  “I don’t think I could make Damien do anything he doesn’t want to do,” I said, which earned a rare smile from the king.

  “He’s stubborn,” he said. “But his happiness with you, it matters. More than you could ever know. It’s important you win him over. Because if you don’t…”

  He nodded out again at the enormous pile of bones.

  “Loneliness will sit over our roofs with brooding wings.”

  “What?” I asked, as goosebumps tingled my skin.

  “It’s a quote I like, from a book,” King Richard said. “The elite may seem in control, powerful to you, but imagine what it would be like, to be different from nearly everyone else. There are few of our kind, yet we hold dominion over all things. My son has been lonely, I suspect, for a long time. Did you know, he’s never chosen. Not once, in over a hundred years. He hasn’t been with anyone since the Before, when he was still human. And now he has you. I hope he’s made the right decision. I’m sure you’ll prove my fears unfounded. Saturday will be your first renewal at the capital. Use it to think about … what you want.”

  14

  I needed to get my head in the game. King Richard’s question rang in my ears. Why did Damien choose me if he didn’t want me? I’d been afraid to ask it before, but knowing that the king and other people were aware of the lack of intimacy between Damien and I made me feel ashamed and guilty. I felt like everyone was watching me. For every camera lens I could see, I wondered if there weren’t dozens of others, better hidden. Was I being watched all the time? Did I have any privacy at all?

  I wished Amber were here, or even Trev. I needed someone I could talk to, someone I could trust. But it was just me, and my family were counting on me. My mother worked her whole life for this opportunity, just so I’d be chosen, and I was throwing it away, chasing visions and mysteries, putting it in jeopardy.

  I didn’t want to get sent home in disgrace, unwanted. There must be a reason Damien chose me. I just had to find it and remind him. I had to at least stay long enough to figure out how to get more e
lixir so I could save my mom. Master Svboda said the champion of the trials could save anyone. I didn’t know how I was going to actually win the trials, competing against girls like Camina and Jazmine. But it was my best chance. I owed it to my family to at least try. And even if I didn’t win, Penelope suggested I could have real power by being Damien’s chosen. Basically, a princess. Maybe someday a queen. Damien had never chosen before, so I wasn’t just any chosen. But my role was undefined. I’d have to fill it myself, and figure out how to make it my own.

  Luckily, the king had given me an idea. Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but the lesson I’d learned is that I can’t fight my way into Damien’s heart. I didn’t know how to flirt like Jessica did, but I could at least try to get closer to Damien. I was done waiting around for him to take an interest in me. Maybe it was my responsibility to take an interest in him first. After all, relationships went two ways. I’d been focused on classes, on training, even though I’d been told the trials weren’t the most important thing. The most important thing was Damien and how he felt about me—but we were still practically strangers. And that wasn’t going to change if he kept avoiding me until after the trials.

  The king dropped me off at my apartment, but I went straight to Damien’s. I’d spent hours in the library, hoping he’d drop in, but today things looked different. Books were scattered across the desk, and a sheets of paper were scrawled with notes and illustrations—some of them were surprisingly good. There was even a half-finished portrait that looked a lot like me. Candles were burned down to the stub, with wax dripping over the papers. A dictionary was opened to one particular entry, circled with red ink.

  ren·i·tent

  (rĕn′ĭ-tənt, rĭ-nīt′nt)

  adj.

  1. Resistant to physical pressure; not pliant.

  2. Reluctant to yield or be swayed; recalcitrant.

  I frowned. No surprise there. I already knew I was stubborn. This couldn’t be the big secret Master Svboda and Tobias had been so worried about. But then why had Damien been up all night looking for answers?

  I realized I didn’t know very much about my future husband. The house was practically a shell, full of fancy statues and paintings and glossed tables. Meant to make an impression, but devoid of personality. If I was going to get Damien to like me, I had to understand him, to know who he was. I decided it was time to explore the rest of the house. My heart raced, as I furtively climbed the stairs and snuck into his bedroom. I checked under his mattress and ran my hands under his fine garments and clothes.

  On the dresser was a frame with a faded photograph behind glass. I barely recognized Damien, his blond hair glowing from the sun and a bright smile. Next to him was King Richard, wearing a tank top and shorts. They were on a dock of some kind, with a lake behind them, and an airplane floating on the surface of the water behind them. I recognized the machine from picture books, though I’d never seen one. I couldn’t even imagine how it stayed in the air. It seemed like magic to me. I picked up the frame, marvelling at the clear blue sky and green trees. The colors seemed so bright, even though this photo must be over a hundred years old.

  I heard the door downstairs and my heart pounded, thinking Damien had come home early. I set the frame back carefully, trying to remember exactly where it had been on the shelf, then hurried downstairs and slipped into the library. But when I heard Jazmine’s voice yelling my name, I hurried to open the door.

  “Grab your stuff,” she said when she saw me. “We’re going out.”

  I hesitated for a moment, but then I realized I’d spent the last few days waiting around in Damien’s vast, empty house in case he wanted to spend time with me. I was done waiting.

  Jazmine grabbed my hand and pulled me through the nightmarket. Camina was ahead of us, her tall form pushing through the crowd like a barge. Mary trailed behind, an expression of wonder on her face as she explored the colorful wares brought from all corners of the kingdom. Strands of hanging lights lit up the alley, and stalls containing open-air kitchens brewed spicy concoctions that made my nose tingle.

  “They have everything here,” Mary shouted above the noise.

  “We found it the other night,” Jazmine said.

  My stomach growled at the exotic smells. Individual stalls selling skewers of meat and vegetable were crammed against the sides of two towering glass buildings. Between them were narrow tables and stools filled with people. It was so crowded I could barely keep track of my friends, even though they were only a few feet in front of me.

  There was food from every region, some I recognized and some decidedly foreign.

  “Is that a fried spider?” I groaned, pointing at one stall.

  “It’s like chicken,” Camina said. “You should try snake’s blood, or scorpion. That’ll put hair on your chest.”

  “And that’s a good thing?” I asked.

  Mary grabbed my hand and pointed out a stall with rows of colorful containers behind glass.

  “Ice cream,” she said with wide eyes. I understood her amazement. We had ice cream in Algrave, on rare occasions, but never this kind of variety.

  “I’ve only ever had vanilla,” I said.

  “Let’s eat first,” Jazmine said, nodding deeper into the crowd. I pulled Mary away from the colorful display. Strings of lights climbed messily above us, illuminating the path. Music played from speakers, and we even passed a few musicians, asking for loose change while playing guitar or violin.

  My face fell when I saw the glint of coins.

  “I didn’t bring any money with me,” I said, stopping suddenly.

  “Just flash your bracelet,” Jazmine said, shaking her wrist to show off her bracelet. The steel band glittered against the lights, even though it wasn’t ostentatiously studded with diamonds like mine was.

  We stopped at a stall and grabbed stools. Jazmine let her arm fall heavily on the table, catching the chef’s eyes, which opened wide as he looked at our group. He hurried over and made a low bow.

  “It’s an honor to serve you tonight,” he said. He snapped his fingers and shouted to a young man behind the counter, who quickly began mixing sauces. The dish was ready in minutes: chicken steak with a fried egg and noodles, still sizzling on a heated pan.

  “Flip the egg so it cooks,” Jazmine said.

  “Is this what you eat where you’re from?” I asked. “In Denvato?”

  “Something like this, but with more flavor, and a lot more spice. But I know Camina’s sensitive taste buds can’t handle the heat.” She smirked and Camina kicked her under the table.

  “In Iklebot we eat for sustenance, not pleasure,” Camina said, but she moaned as she took her first bite of the fried noodles.

  “That makes sense,” Mary said. “We’re supposed to be beautiful and strong, but they keep feeding us. I can’t take two steps in my apartment without finding a plate of cookies, chocolates, or sandwiches. I think my elite forgot how much humans eat and is trying to make sure I don’t starve.”

  “At least he’s paying attention,” Camina grumbled. “Mine remembered to feed me the first few days, but since then I’ve learned not to count on dinner—I just ask the staff to make me what I want to eat, or I go out and forage on my own. That’s how I found this place.”

  “Thank goodness,” I said. “So it’s not just me. Does anyone else think it’s weird how they just stare at you and watch you eat?”

  “So creepy,” Mary nodded.

  “Like they’re fattening us up for slaughter,” Jazmine said. “Which, they basically are.”

  “They’re just spoiling us,” Camina said. “Being a chosen is an honor. Besides, I think the elixir burns fat. Or we just burn it off during practice? It’s not like they can actually hurt us.”

  My mind flashed back to the image of the young girls, with their torn throats and burned-out eyes. I was tempted to tell the others what I’d seen, but I didn’t know where to start, and I didn’t want to worry them. They had enough to think about already, without the k
nowledge that some elites weren’t playing by the rules. I wondered again about the dark figure in the white mask, who’d tried to compulse me.

  As much as I needed to talk about it with someone, I didn’t want to worry my new friends, or put them at risk. Secrets could be dangerous. Plus, I was afraid of being overheard. I glanced at my bracelet. I knew it kept track of our physical location. What if it did more than that? As if on cue, I heard a whirring and looked up to see a red blinking light flying above us. A security drone. Just another reminder that life in the citadel wasn’t as liberating as it was made out to be.

  After dinner, we bought pink cotton candy and headed to the games area; a wide courtyard with a center fountain, lined by trees. The stalls spread around the square. It reminded me of the Algrave festival, and I felt a sting of nostalgia for my former life. My eyes lit up when I saw the archery range. It had been so long since I held my father’s bow, I felt a physical sense of longing in my palms. I picked up one of the bows and tested its weight. Crisp paper targets with colored rings beckoned from across a small pond. I saw movement in the water and realized it was full of large orange fish. They seemed to glow in the dark water.

  “Hit the bull’s eye and win a prize,” an overweight man with a curled mustache said. I nodded, and he handed me a bundle of five arrows.

  “I’m in, too,” Camina said, grabbing the bow on my right. She nocked and arrow and squared her shoulders confidently. He muscles rippled as pulled the string back to her ear and released. The arrow sang through the air and smacked the target with force, but she’d only hit the outside of the target. She frowned, and glanced at her bracelet, which still read 1%.

  “Strange,” she said. “I used to be really good at this. When I concentrate, it’s like I can feel the elixir working, but it makes me reckless. I released carelessly.”