by J. Stone
Wynonna snarled at the crude vespari and turned to see the gargoyle fast approaching them. She’d had enough of his rude behavior, so she decided to make her abilities obvious to him at the risk of making him an enemy. Reaching toward his belt, Wynonna snatched the revolver he had stowed there and turned toward the gargoyle.
The other vespari jerked too late and asked, “What do you think--”
Before he could even finish his question, Wynonna fired two shots at the gargoyle. Both of the runed bullets smashed into the monster’s remaining wings, faring better than she would’ve expected, and the stone creature crashed to the ground once again. Unlike its former falls, with its final set of wings broken, the gargoyle ceased to be. Its long, snaking body broke apart, crumbling into nothing more than simple stones skidding across the ground.
Wynonna then felt the gargoyle’s energy transfer into her. Every monster passed on something when killed thanks to the vespari tattoos Corrigan had inked on her chest, and the gargoyle was no different. According to her master’s notes, this monster would grant her a harder, tougher skin. She knew exactly how she wanted to test it out.
Turning back to the other vespari, Wynonna reared back and punched him square in the jaw. She hardly felt a thing, but he went careening to the ground, dropping his rifle and landing hard on his back. Walking to the rifle, she picked it up and then stood over the other vespari.
“Alright,” she began, pressing the toe of her boot into his neck. “I’ve traveled a long way to get here, and this is not the greeting I was expecting. I need to get to the Black Tea Tower.”
“Fuck you, bitch!” he spat up at her.
In response, Wynonna pressed her boot harder into his neck, starting to choke him.
“Now, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re going to shut your mouth, swallow your pride, and then you’re going to take me to the Black Tea Tower. I’m here for my damn confirmation and you’re not going to stand in my way.”
Wynonna lifted her foot up, allowing him to gasp for air. He rolled over and crawled away from her a couple feet. After a minute, he managed to stand up, turn around and start toward her.
“Nuh uh,” she told him, aiming the revolver at him.
He stopped and just glared at her.
“So,” she said. “Where are you taking me?”
He had to struggle to answer, but he eventually managed to utter the words she wanted to hear. “Black Tea Tower,” he said through gritted teeth.
“Good.” She then held up his revolver and rifle for him to see. “And you can have these back when you learn to behave.” Wynonna nodded forward. “Well. Let’s go.”
***
Though this foul-mouthed vespari certainly didn’t remain quiet, he did take her to the Black Tea Tower as she’d instructed him. At least, she assumed so. The building he stopped outside of was a clock tower. What it had to do with black tea, she didn’t know, but she had to assume that it was the right place.
“We’re here,” he told her. “Now give me my weapons.”
Wynonna looked past him to the tower. “Who do I talk to about my confirmation?”
“Figure it out for yourself. I did my part.”
“How about you show me inside before I break your nose.” She then tilted her head to the side and gave him a faux smile.
With her hand nearly as hard as the gargoyle she’d just killed, that would’ve been an easy threat to carry out. He knew that just as well as her, so he glared at her, sucked his teeth, turned around, and opened one of the large double doors of the Black Tea Tower. When Wynonna followed him in, she ran into a musty smell and faced a large, mostly empty room. On either the left and right side of the room on a diagonal slant to the door she’d come in were two other doors. A sign above the door on the left read ‘Library,’ while a sign on the right said, ‘Quartermaster.’ Between these two rooms and directly in front of them, a wide set of stairs rose, but they stopped and turned backward toward them midway to the next level, preventing her from seeing what was further up the tower.
“There,” the other vespari told her, pointing to the library. “You can talk to Spencer. He can deal with you from here.”
Wynonna nodded toward the door. “After you.”
He glared at her, but he didn’t need any further prodding. The foul-mouthed vespari walked to the library and swung the door open. Taking her time and absorbing everything the Black Tea Tower had to offer, Wynonna followed him in. When she got to the library, she found that some of the musty smell of the tower originated from their library. With all those books, it was no surprise. The room felt stale and still, almost lifeless.
And, there were plenty of books. Rows upon rows of shelves packed with books inside this library. The room was tall as well, essentially two levels but without the floor to separate them. Aside from the shelves of books, the room had several tables with books and other materials splayed out over them. And amidst all this knowledge, there stood a single man holding a pair of books who turned to look at the two of them.
The light-skinned man had wavy blonde hair that fell nearly down to his shoulders and a pair of circular glasses nearing the tip of his nose. He had a wrinkled face that seemed aged beyond his years. He wore equally wrinkled clothes, and when he saw them both, he dropped the pair of books to his side.
“Ernest,” the apparent Spencer said, as they entered the library. The librarian set the books down on a table, looking anything but pleased to see the vespari.
“It’s Hildebrand,” he corrected. “I’ve got something for you.” He nodded back at Wynonna.
“Yes?” Spencer asked, pushing up his pair of spectacles with his wrist.
“Says she’s a vespari who’s here for a confirmation.”
Spencer smiled and looked Wynonna over. “Really? That’s amazing. It’s about time we broaden the order to include women.”
Receiving this response after repeatedly hearing far more negative comments, Wynonna couldn’t help but gush a little bit. “Right?” she asked with a big grin. “It’s nonsense to think a woman couldn’t be a vespari.”
“Couldn’t agree more,” he replied. “Thank you.”
“No, thank you. I am so tired of people being shitty when I tell them I’m a vespari.”
Ernest groaned as loud as he could to make a point. “I’m not sitting through any more of this. Either shoot me or give me my weapons.”
Just as eager to be rid of him as he was to leave, Wynonna turned to him and gave him another faux smile. “Gladly,” she replied.
The vespari removed the rifle’s strap, which hung from her shoulder and handed him the weapon. He slung it over his shoulder, and she then handed him his revolver.
“Let’s not do this again sometime,” she told him.
Ernest snatched the revolver, stuffing it back into his gun belt. “Never will be too soon.”
With that, the two vespari went their separate ways, Wynonna staying with Spencer in the library, and Ernest leaving the way they came in, sure to slam the door as he left.
“Don’t worry about Ernest,” Spencer told her. “No one likes him. No one with taste anyway.”
“But, he’s so charming,” Wynonna replied.
“No kidding. Well, like he said, my name is Spencer. Spencer Whipple.”
“Wynonna Lockhart,” she replied.
“Lockhart? Did you say Lockhart?” Spencer asked, his eyes going wide.
“Yes,” she hesitantly replied, unsure why he seemed so excited.
“That’s great!” The librarian ran away from her, stopping at a table with papers scattered over its top, where he dropped the pair of books.
As Spencer sifted through them, Wynonna strolled through the library, joining him on the opposite side of the table. She remained silent for a minute or so, as the librarian murmured inaudibly to himself. When he still hadn’t said anything to her or found what he was looking for, Wynonna reached forward and waved her hand in front of his face.
When he looked back up at her, she asked, “What’s so great?”
“You! You’re Lockhart!”
She didn’t understand. “Yeah. I know I am. Still not getting it.”
Spencer looked back down and finally found what he was looking for. “Here,” he declared, pointing at some words on a piece of paper.
Wynonna twisted her head part way to the side in an attempt to better read the writing. “Kaelan Lockhart,” she read aloud.
“And then,” Spencer said, tracing his finger along an arrow scrawled on the paper.
“Corrigan Lockhart,” Wynonna read again. She looked back up at him. “Yeah, that’s Cory. So?”
“And then you!” the librarian exclaimed, pointing to a blank section below Corrigan’s name. “That’s great. I thought the Lockhart name had died with your master.”
“Oh. Well…” Wynonna didn’t really know why that was so great, so she just finished with a shrug.
“The vespari order is getting smaller and smaller,” Spencer told her, pushing himself up from the table. “When the Alexandrian order was first established, there were over five hundred unique surnames. Now, we’re down to less than fifty. The numbers are dwindling quickly, but you showing up means I can mark one more name as among the order.”
“Oh,” Wynonna said. “I had no idea the vespari were that few.”
Spencer nodded. “Maintaining the order simply isn’t feasible under its current rules. That’s why we need to change. That’s why it’s great you’re here.”
“You mean, cause I’m a woman?”
“Exactly. You say you’re here for a confirmation?”
“That’s what Cory told me I had to do. I don’t really know what that means though.”
“It’s your acceptance into the order. If they accept you, then the order can change.”
“Accept me? What does that mean exactly?”
Spencer took a deep breath and started to walk back and forth on the other side of the table, his arms folded at his back. “Well, for starters, you’ll have to meet with the elders.”
“Who’s that?”
“Did Corrigan not tell you any of this?”
She shook her head. “He didn’t really have the opportunity.”
He nodded. “Well, essentially, the elders are the ruling body of the vespari order. They will be the ones who decide whether or not to accept you.”
“How are they going to do that?”
Continuing to pace, Spencer told her, “A confirmation isn’t typical. Usually new vespari receive training here in Alexandria, Cortoria, or Highcrest and upon completion of the training, simply accepted into the order. Then, there’s the assumption that you being a woman will only serve to make the confirmation even more atypical.”
“How do you mean?”
“The elders don’t even have to hear you for one. They can deny you outright if they all agree. Assuming one of the elders is willing to sponsor you for confirmation, however, they will then expect you to accomplish at least two challenges. If you pass whatever tests they present, they will then decide whether to confirm you as a member of the order. The fact that you’re a woman will likely mean more difficult challenges than they would normally assign a man in your situation.”
“Mm,” Wynonna muttered, folding her arms at her chest. “I’m not really seeing the upside here. What’s so great about being in the order anyway?”
Spencer held up his hands. “Well, all of this for one. There are generations of knowledge in here. It would take a lifetime to learn everything contained within these pages.”
Wynonna shrugged. “I don’t know. Cory left me with his journal. Has a record of nearly everything he ever killed in it, along with drawings and detailed information.”
“Really? I would actually love to see that.”
She smiled. “Maybe if I’m confirmed. What else would I get?”
“Well, the quartermaster will make weapons for you. Supply you with ammo too.”
“That’s pretty good, I guess.”
“Plus, the tower is where people know to look for us. They bring contracts directly here, so you’ll never run short of work. And they have rooms on the upper levels too. You wouldn’t ever need to pay for food or board again if you didn’t want to.”
“Hm. So there’s some perks, I guess.”
“Then, you’re going to go through with it?”
“It’s what Cory wanted for me. I guess I should at least try for him if nothing else.”
“Great!” Spencer told her, walking around the table and joining her. “First thing, we’ll need to take you up to see the elders and find out if one of them will sponsor you.”
“Okay. If you say so.”
“Come,” he said, turning around and gesturing for her to follow.
From the library, Spencer took her up to the third level of the Black Tea Tower. He sat her down on a bench outside a room, while he went in and discussed her situation with the elders. This librarian of theirs seemed much more confident in her acceptance as a vespari than she felt.
Sitting there, waiting to hear word from the elders about meeting with her, Wynonna actually started to feel a little insecure. Her typical overconfidence washed away with each passing minute. She worried that she wasn’t good enough to join their order. She feared that her sex would get in the way, but that thought only made her turn to anger. Rejection wasn’t something Wynonna handled well, and if it turned out to be for such a foolish reason, she knew she would have a difficult time dealing with it.
Needing something to distract her mind, Wynonna pulled the silver round that contained the bound soul of Petronila from her pocket. Looking at the bloody bit of shaped metal, the vespari started once again to roll it over her knuckles. Doing something so simple helped calm her raging mind from all the thoughts and emotions that scattered about and threatened her to do something foolish.
More and more, she felt lost with every new day. Her life before becoming a vespari was gone. The Gentleman, the revenant who killed her entire family, saw to that. Corrigan found her amidst all that pain and chaos though. He gave her a purpose. He helped her satisfy the anger inside her, and he helped her kill the Gentleman. She felt better after his death, but it didn’t last. An emptiness grew inside her from that day on. It only grew wider when Corrigan died. Her former master gave her this one last task though. This confirmation.
Wynonna couldn’t say exactly why she was in Alexandria or why she was going through with this, but it gave her something to do. It distracted her, and distractions were all she had. Without them, she thought on her family or Corrigan. She thought on what she’d lost. She thought on the choices she’d made and the consequences she now had to live with. She closed her eyes and wished to go back and do things differently, but no matter what she did, when she opened her eyes, she was always in the same spot. She still had to live on while everyone else died. She hated it, and she needed something to channel all that frustration into. Sitting there, she realized that she needed to be a vespari. She needed acceptance into their order. She needed confirmed.
As she thought, she moved the silver round faster and faster over her knuckles. It focused her mind. It gave her a small bit of control when she felt like she had none, but then something changed. Wynonna stared at the flickering metal, one side silver, and the other red from her dried blood. The movement mesmerized her, and she found herself falling into a trance akin to sleep.
***
Wynonna knelt over Corrigan, surrounded by the discarded body parts of various animals in the beldam cave. She gripped the runed knife in her hand. She pushed the blade down into his chest. She had no control over herself. She felt like a passenger in her own body. Blood poured from the wound, soaking through his shirt, pooling on his chest. His eyes stared up at her, drifting out of consciousness until they were dull and lifeless. Wynonna pulled the knife out from his body and dropped it with a clang on the rocks of the cave floor. The vespari closed her eyes, wishing fo
r it all to change when she opened them again.
After taking a breath, Wynonna opened her eyes to find that everything indeed had changed. The red-skinned, horned Petronila lay before her, smiling up at the vespari with those fangs exposed. She licked her lips with her forked tongue and stared at Wynonna with such dangerous eyes. The soul eater lay on her side, leaning her head on one arm.
“You murdered him,” Petronila declared. “How could you do such a thing?”
Wynonna growled under her breath. “You’re not here. You’re bound.”
“I’m bound to you, little vespari. I’m going to be with you until you finally release me.”
“I’ll never release you,” she told the soul eater, standing up and moving away from her.
Petronila vanished and reappeared in front of Wynonna, wagging her finger. “Never say never. Do you know how many souls I consumed before you trapped me? Do you know how long it will take to starve me? Do you really think you can hold on for that long?”
Wynonna waved her hand at the soul eater only for her to vanish again. “Leave me alone!”
Petronila wrapped her arms around Wynonna from behind, whispering into her ear. “I am inside you, little vespari. We are entwined. I will continue to haunt your every dream. You will come to fear sleep.”
Wynonna tried to free herself from the soul eater’s grip, but her strength meant nothing in this place. “Let go of me!”
“As long as you bind me, you will be my plaything.” Petronila’s clawed hands dug into Wynonna’s body.
The vespari squirmed from the pain, but it did nothing to stop the soul eater.
“I will make you feel more pain than you ever thought possible.”
Wynonna grimaced. “I can withstand anything you do to me.”
“Not all pain is physical,” the soul eater told her, releasing her grip on her.
Petronila then pushed her forward, and Wynonna found herself kneeling over Corrigan’s body again. The knife was in her hand, and once more, she felt no control over her body. She plunged the blade into his chest and watched the life drift from his face. She watched him accept his death and pay the cost for her betrayal.
