The Black Knight Chronicles

by John G. Hartness

  “Drink, you idiot,” I whispered to him. “You don’t know when you’ll have the chance to feed again, and I doubt there’s a blood bank anywhere near here.”

  “But dude,” Greg whispered back plaintively. “I don’t do that anymore. I haven’t drunk from a person in almost ten years. I can’t do it now, in front of people.” He got really quiet on the last part, like he was talking about losing his virginity or peeing in public or something.

  “You have to, bro. You’ve gotta keep your strength up, and I know you didn’t eat anything before we left the house. Plus, I don’t want to piss her off by not accepting.” I really didn’t want to start some kind of inter-dimensional diplomatic incident by not drinking the girl. Besides, I wanted a snack and had never had faerie for lunch before.

  “Your friend is right, vampire. You must drink. I can sense your hunger,” Milandra said.

  I looked over at the little queen, and she wasn’t smiling anymore. She looked at Greg like he was something she wanted to scrape off the bottom of her shoe.

  Greg noticed. He stared at the girl’s neck for another moment, then took a deep breath and leaned in. He got close enough to brush the faerie girl’s neck with his fangs, then pulled back.

  “I can’t. I don’t do that.” He stood up and turned to me, his jaw set.

  “My Lady, are you not in control of your servants? If you would like some assistance in teaching them manners, we would be happy to oblige.” The queen’s words belied her light tone, and I looked at the guards, trying to decide if I could take them. Maybe, but not Otto.

  I put a hand on Greg’s shoulder and looked him in the eye. He tried to turn away, but I didn’t let him. “Greg, you gotta drink. I know it’s a big deal to you, and I’m sorry. Really sorry. But either you feed off this girl, or we have to fight our way out of here, and Sabrina’s cousin is probably going to die. Now it’s up to you.”

  “I just don’t want to lose control again,” he whispered.

  I looked around, but nobody but me had heard him. “You won’t. I won’t let you. You’ll never be that guy again. I swear it.”

  There were red-tinged tears in his eyes as he looked up at me. “You promise? This is the last time?”

  How could he ask me something like that? I didn’t know what was going to happen in the next five minutes, much less the whole future. Well, that wasn’t completely true. I knew we were in trouble if Greg didn’t sack up. Now. “I promise.”

  Greg went paler than usual, then turned back to the faerie girl and pressed his mouth to her neck. He went to one knee as the first fresh blood in a decade splashed against his tongue.

  I could smell the blood when he broke the skin, and the smell just about drove me nuts. Imagine your mom’s fried chicken, with homemade biscuits, gravy and fresh cherry pie for dessert. Well, this faerie’s blood smelled like all of that and more, and I could hardly wait for Greg to top off the tank and pass the entree over.

  After a long moment, he finished drinking and just knelt there, leaning over the girl with his forehead on her shoulder. I really hoped I wasn’t in for a long talk about feelings and other crap when we got home. Greg stood and waved the girl over to me, turning so he didn’t have to watch the feeding.

  Not being possessed of Greg’s moral fortitude, I took a knee instantly and sank my fangs deep into the girl’s carotid. The hot blood flooded my mouth, and I saw stars for a second before I got myself under control. Apparently faerie blood is a lot more nourishing than human blood, because I’d drank barely a pint before I felt completely revitalized.

  I stood up, giving the girl a kiss on the forehead that left bloody lip prints just below her hairline, and looked around with new eyes at the great hall. Everything had an extra little sparkle, like the first time a nearsighted kid gets new glasses. I could smell a hint of lavender in the air, and I thought I could taste a hint of it, too. I knew it was coming from Sabrina, and I closed my eyes, listening to her heart beat for a long moment, losing myself in its rhythms before I snapped back to the present. I locked eyes with the Faerie Queen, and she smiled a knowing smile at me.

  “Did you enjoy your meal, vampire?” she asked with a tilt of her head.

  “She was delicious, Your Majesty.” I sketched a brief bow, and the girl returned to her serving duties.

  “Excellent. Now the rest of us may dine while we discuss what business has brought a Peacekeeper with two assassins to my lands.”

  She clapped her hands, and an army of serving girls, all looking eerily identical to the faerie Greg and I had just fed from, came in carrying sections of wood that assembled almost by themselves into a huge banquet table. Once the table was in place, Milandra clapped her hands once more, and a feast appeared in the blink of an eye. Fruits in all colors of the rainbow, vegetables that looked like nothing I’d ever seen before, and a roasted flamingo appeared from nowhere. Literally from nowhere. Milandra clapped her hands, and food just appeared.

  I sipped a nice red wine while the mortal types ate and Otto recapped the troll fight for the queen. I couldn’t process most of what was said because I was still hung up on the word “assassins.” Apparently here in Faerieland vampires were not uncommon, and we were used as assassins.

  Eventually I raised my hand tentatively, and Milandra nodded towards me. “Um . . .” I hate it when I get tongue-tied, but I was really in uncharted waters here. “Your Majesty, we’re not assassins. I mean, we are vampires, that’s pretty obvious, but we didn’t come here to kill anyone.” Which might not have technically been true, but since I didn’t know who we might have to kill, I figured that bit might best be left unsaid.

  “Then why have you come here, mortal?” Milandra turned to Sabrina, who apparently had been elected general when I wasn’t looking.

  “We are investigating a series of troll attacks in our world. Otto—um—Octavian led us to believe that you may be able to help us find out where the monsters are coming from, and why they are attacking changelings,” Sabrina said, with a glance to Otto, who nodded slightly.

  Sabrina went on “My . . . a member of my family has been injured, and Octavian tells us he can only be cured by a plant found here in Faerie. He will die within days if we don’t get the plant and get back to him.”

  Otto stood and bowed to the queen. “Your Majesty, if I may?”

  She gave him a negligent wave, and he continued. “The changeling Stephen Neal has been poisoned by the verdirosa venom. He seems to have been beaten by a troll wearing blanthrons.”

  Milandra sat rigidly in her chair, her face a cold mask. “You are telling me that not only has a troll escaped into the mundane world, in the same city where you are supposedly protecting my changelings, but he has now poisoned one of my subjects using forbidden magics? And you were incapable of stopping this and are now paired with a human and her pet leeches?”

  Otto dropped to one knee at the steel in the queen’s voice.

  I stood up to protest being called a leech, but Sabrina grabbed my wrist. “Sit down,” she whispered.

  I looked around, and the two guards were a lot closer than they had been just a few seconds before.

  Otto spoke, his gaze still focused on his toes. “My Lady, I apologize most sincerely for my failure. The slight was mine entirely. I was investigating the attacks, just as I was ordered. The humans simply stumbled upon an attack more recently than I could, given my limited resources.”

  This seemed to satisfy the pissed-off little faerie girl, at least enough that some of the fire went out of her gaze. She sipped from a goblet and appeared to contemplate the news Otto had delivered.

  After a long few seconds of silence, she looked down the table to where Otto knelt. “Rise, Octavian. I am not wroth with you. Be seated.” He did as he was told, and Milandra took another drink, then spoke again. “We in House Armelion have no dealings with trolls, but I may be able to summon their master here for a . . . conversation, if that is what you desire.”

  Something about her to
ne made the hair on the back of my neck stand up, and looking over at Otto I could tell that there was something going on here that was most definitely not being said. Sabrina didn’t catch whatever warning tone I was hearing, and just replied with “Yes, Your Majesty, we would like that very much.”

  “We may even be able to provide you with the cure you seek for your cousin. The verdirosa is a dangerous plant to find, and even more dangerous to harvest. I believe my apothecary keeps one in his garden for just such an occasion as this. If it is here, you may have it. We will not abandon our people who live across the veil.”

  “Thank you, your Majesty. Thank you very much,” Sabrina said, and I could see the tension flow out of her.

  “You are most welcome, human. We could no more abandon our changelings than any of our children. But of course, there is a cost.”

  The knot building in my stomach reached Gordian proportions, and I knew life had just gotten uglier. Again.

  “A cost, Majesty?” Sabrina asked.

  “Of course, human,” Milandra said. “If it is a boon you seek from the Queen of House Armelion, then it is a boon you shall have.” She was smiling way too much for me to feel comfortable, and then she dropped the other shoe. “Once you have completed your quest, of course.”

  I knew it. Outsmarted by another supernatural chick. The last time this happened, I ended up immortal and with weird dietary restrictions. I just hoped we all survived this one.

  Chapter 15

  I took a deep breath, stood up, brushed off the knee of my jeans and squared my shoulders, looking right at the Faerie Queen. “All right, Your Majesty, what do need us to do?”

  I heard Sabrina gasp a little at my directness, but I figured we were down to the real deal now, so any pretense of formality could go out the window.

  Milandra chuckled a little and said, “You are wiser than you appear, vampire, not that that takes much. There is a beast that has been plaguing the western border of my lands for some years now. I would like for you to go there, and bring me its heart as proof of your success. Of course, simply returning alive will be proof enough, as none of the other heroes I have sent on this quest have ever been seen again.” There was that little half smile again.

  I was really starting to want to smack this chick, magical queen or not. She might look like a storybook picture, with her blonde hair and her fluttery silk gown, but there was steel underneath that porcelain skin.

  “Okay, Your Majesty. Would you like to enlighten me as to what kind of creature we’ll be fighting, or would you rather we be surprised?” I asked

  Greg and Sabrina were on their feet now, Greg shaking his head at me, and Sabrina keeping an eye on the guards just in case they didn’t approve of my attitude.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t dream of having you attempt this quest without proper preparations, vampire. After all, dragon-hunting is not for the faint of heart.”

  I didn’t bother mentioning that my heart didn’t really beat anymore, faint or not. I was a little hung up on the casual use of the word “dragon.”

  “Excuse me, Your Majesty?” Greg asked politely. He even raised his hand. “Did you say ‘dragon?’” His voice squeaked a little, and now he sounded like he was almost twelve instead of closing in on forty.

  “I did indeed, vampire.”

  “Does ‘dragon’ maybe have a different meaning here than it does in our world?” he asked, hopefully.

  Milandra cocked her head. “In your world does ‘dragon’ mean a gigantic winged lizard, roughly the size of a barn, with a twenty-foot long poisonous barbed tail, a head the size of a small bedroom with hundreds of razor-sharp teeth, claws the length of broadswords and just as sharp, with breath of fire?”

  “Yes, that’s pretty close.” Greg said in a very small voice. “Except in our world, these are purely mythical creatures. They don’t really exist.”

  I saw a little glimmer of hope in his face until Milandra spoke again. “You mean fantastical creatures of the imagination, like trolls, vampires and faeries?”

  “Yes, Your Majesty, just like that.” Greg looked about like I felt, which was kinda like I’d been kicked in the guts by a horse. Or a troll.

  “Well, then I assure you, Mr. Knightwood, that this dragon is every bit as mythical as you are. But do not despair, my friends, I would not dream of sending you into battle with such a creature garbed in such inadequate clothing.”

  With that, she clapped her hands, and Greg and I were suddenly wearing suits of bright metal chain mail, complete with breastplates, arm guards and plates over our shins and thighs. Helmets appeared floating in midair in front of us, open-faced things with silver wings sweeping out from the sides. I grabbed mine and put it on, and looked over at Greg.

  “I don’t want to think about how much metal went into wrapping your gut, bro,” I quipped, and then turned to look at Sabrina, and my mouth dropped open.

  She looked like an over-sexed Valkyrie, with her own winged helmet, chain mail and breast plate, but where Greg and I had on chain mail leggings, she had an armored skirt that was slit up way higher than I thought was exactly practical. Her breastplate had some obvious concessions to anatomy, with a couple of vents in interesting places showing a little more flesh than I would have expected. All in all, I was pretty distracted by the image, and I figured any enemy might be as well. I was less sure about what effect her appearance would have on a huge lizard, but at least I’d have some eye candy while I was being chomped to death.

  “Um, Your Majesty?” Greg raised his hand again. I’m gonna have to teach him to grow a pair one of these days, but I decided that being on our best behavior here probably wasn’t a bad idea.

  “Yes, vampire?”

  That still bugs me. It’s like people think it’s a title or something. We have names, after all. We don’t go around calling people “human.”

  “This armor is great and all, but we’re going to need some weapons, too. Don’t you think?” That’s when I noticed that my daggers had gone wherever my clothes had, since they weren’t on my belt anymore. Just as well, I doubted a six-inch blade would do much against a dragon anyway.

  “Of course, Gregory. Follow me. I will take you to my armory.” With that, she turned and headed through a door in the side of the room that I was pretty sure hadn’t existed before that second. It reminded me yet again how much I hate magic.

  We followed Milandra down a long marbled hallway until she stopped in front of a thick wooden door flanked by two knights holding huge polearms. She gestured to the door, and it opened.

  With a wave of one regal hand, Milandra said “You may arm yourselves with anything you find within. Choose carefully, as your lives may depend on the decisions you make here.”

  I went in first, and my heart sank a little as I looked around. Racks and racks of swords, shields and armor filled the huge room, with dozens of bows, crossbows and spears leaning against a far wall. I looked around the whole room a couple of times, then looked back at Greg and said, “Hey Frodo, you see anything in a 9mm around here?”

  Greg stopped waving a battle-axe around and said, “Of course not, dude. We’re in the realm of the Fae, a world of magic. There’s not going to be a gun shop anywhere to be found.”

  I passed a crossbow over to Sabrina and said “Too bad for you, chica.”

  She sighted down the length of the crossbow and set it aside, walking to the wall of bows instead. She picked up a short recurved bow and drew it experimentally. “This works for me. Reminds me of summer camp.” She picked up a quiver of nasty-looking barbed arrows and said, “I should probably stay out of range as much as possible, not being gifted with super-strength, speed or healing.”

  “Good idea.” I hefted a huge claymore with one hand. It was a little long, but having vampire strength definitely made me able to swing the six-foot sword one-handed, even if I couldn’t exactly bring it back around quickly. After a couple of practice swings I put the oversized toothpick away and picked up a shorter, thinner
sword that looked like it was designed for one- or two-handed use. “This seems to suit me just fine.” For good measure, I dropped a wicked-looking spiked mace in a hip sheath then slid the sword over one shoulder.

  Greg strapped on a pair of broadswords, and we were about to head back out into the hallway when something caught the corner of my eye.

  “Hey, Sabrina, try this on,” I said as I handed her a battered, plain leather sheath with a thin double-edged long sword in it.

  Sabrina belted on the scabbard and drew the sword, slashing the air experimentally a couple of times. The blade had a slight reddish sheen to it, and the hilt fit her hand like it was made for her. “This is perfect, Jimmy. Thanks. I hope I don’t get close enough to that beast to need it, but if I do, this will be just the thing.”

  I ducked out into the hall, almost bowling over Milandra, who stood there waiting for me. Greg and Sabrina chuckled a little and went back to arming themselves, picking out a few daggers and things to round out their arsenal.

  When they finished in the armory, they joined Milandra and me in the hallway. The queen handed me a glass globe that seemed full of a bluish smoke and said, “I can use my magic to transport you to the forest where the dragon makes his lair. When you have the creature’s heart firmly in your grasp, smash this globe on the ground and stand close together. The globe will return you to my great hall. I wish you luck.”

  Then, with a wave of her hands and a flash of pink and purple faerie dust (yes, really), we were off to slay a dragon.

  Chapter 16

  Apparently Faerieland dragons live just like you’d expect them to—in caves deep in dark forests. Because that’s exactly where Milandra dropped us, right outside a cave in what looked and felt like a deep forest. The ground was carpeted with thick undergrowth, there was moss hanging from the branches and the mouth of a cave gaped hungrily in front of us.