The Map, The Dagger, and The Vampyres (Fated Chronicles Book 2)

by Humphrey Quinn

  Suppose it could just be those things. She shuddered at the disturbing sight of the statues. She had hoped they had been just a Grimble feature, but apparently, someone thought the students needed this appalling reminder; like it was possible to forget these terrible creature’s entire lives revolved around hunting down and killing Svoda.

  Inside the school, students were abuzz. Another group of travelers had been tracked down and told it was time to come home; they were due to arrive in a week’s time, when the right door back to the island would open for them.

  Only one other group had managed to find their way home so far. Juliska had informed Meghan it might take months. There were still six more out there somewhere.

  The students wondered which group it would be and if they would know anyone. Would it be friends or family they had not seen in almost fourteen years? Most of the students were too young to even remember those traveling in other groups, but were excited just the same.

  Grownups and older teens worried about who would not be returning. They wondered just who had survived the previous year's journeys and who had not. Inevitably, there would be deaths they would only now find out about. Over the coming months, as the groups received their messages that it was time to return home, people would discover they had lost both friends and family.

  It would be both bitter and sweet.

  Meghan did not care about either really. Not that she wasn't happy for those who would once again be reunited with friends and family, or sad for those who would find out they had lost friends and family, whom they had not seen in as nearly many years as she had been alive. But she had much bigger concerns to deal with.

  Across the road from the school, the bird-human sat perched on a tree limb. His bright beady eyes peered down at Ivan Crane who had hidden behind the trunk of the tree. He looked up at Bird, his gaze sliding downward again. He attempted to look as though lounging under a tree, nothing too suspicious going on when it was everything, but.

  “You're stuck here,” he told Bird, without actually looking his direction. “Security is tighter than I've ever seen it. Nothing can get onto or off the island without the Balaton knowing. If you get caught trying to escape, or hiding out on the island...”

  Bird chirped to agree that yes, that would be very bad.

  “Plus, with you being stuck here, I've lost my last connection to the outside world.” Bird chirped a haughty reply. Ivan rolled his eyes. “It’s not your fault,” he conceded. “It's just bad timing. I could really use someone on the outside right now.”

  Bird looked at Ivan questioningly.

  “Because,” Ivan continued decidedly. “I've thought over what you suggested and,” he sighed, resigning to his choice. “I have decided that you are… right.” Although he did not sound thrilled by his decision.

  Bird nodded politely, in understanding of the difficult decision.

  “I only agree because you know my secret, and I now know yours. Just the same, it’s going to take some getting used to. I've always worked alone. Taking on an actual partner is going to be strange. But you are right. It’s only logical based on what we both know, to work together. That said and agreed to, bringing Meghan into all of this is going to have to be done delicately. I only stayed close to her because she's clearly Juliska's favorite and that got me closer to her. And now Meghan is like the irritating little sister I never wanted. She squirms her way in and you just can’t get rid of her.”

  Ivan glanced around to be sure he could not be overheard by anyone. Less harshly, he added, “I understand why you've been protecting the Jacoby's. Although it’s hard to believe. Frankly, it’s frightening to believe. I do agree that we have to tell her. Everything. I think she's ready, but regardless, we're running out of time. She's getting very comfortable around Juliska. I need to end that relationship before it’s too late.”

  Bird nodded again, this time in agreement, but even in bird form he looked worried about how Meghan would react to what they needed to tell her.

  “Things are moving very fast right now,” Ivan continued. “Once I explain everything to Meghan and she accepts it as truth, it’s just a matter of time. We'll need to be ready to flee at any given moment. Of course, I have no idea how we'll safely get past the island’s defenses... yet.”

  An unexpected relief spread through Ivan, even with his task still looming frighteningly ahead, and having no idea if he would actually succeed.

  At least if I fail, someone else knows and believes the truth... the truth will not die with me.

  “Be careful,” Ivan warned Bird again. They could not afford to be complacent.

  He left Bird, their conversation finished for now.

  Bird remained perched in the tree, satisfied with the outcome of his meeting with Ivan Crane. Things could finally move forward, and although he was currently stuck on the island, and unable to locate, protect, or help Colin Jacoby, at least he was still able to watch over Meghan. He stayed in the tree, keeping a watchful eye as he waited for school to end.

  Inside the school, Jae led Meghan down a dimly lit corridor and into a classroom. It was similar to the one they’d had lessons in while in Grimble. There was a circle of pillows, with one pillow for the teacher in the middle, floating and rotating a couple of feet in the air.

  Jae motioned for Meghan to follow and he sat down on a pillow, motioning for her to sit next to him. On the opposite side of the pillow circle was Daveena Troast. Apparently, somehow, she had been moved forward from beginner’s class to intermediate.

  Although still looking capable of doing great physical harm, she had lost that demeanor which caused fright just at her mere approach. Meghan wondered where her counterparts were. Was it possible they were in another class?

  The classroom door rushed open, two girls entering.

  “Oh, of course not,” moaned Meghan, hopes dashed.

  Darcy Scraggs and Dulcy Hadrian were sure to make enough noise to be noticed as they vied for open pillows to sit on.

  What surprised Meghan most, however, was that they did not take seats next to Daveena. And just as odd was that Daveena didn't seem to expect it either. They walked right past her and she did not give them a second look. Had she left Darcy's little trio? Were the Three D's now just two?

  Meghan's gaze followed Darcy and Dulcy as they rounded the room, scoffing at each student they passed by... until they came to Jae. Darcy stopped, making an extra noisy scene as she took the pillow next to his, and Dulcy the one next to hers.

  “Hi, Jae,” spoke Darcy, in a purposeful tone that insinuated they had seen each other recently. Her eyes cried out wasn't that a great time we had, and her mouth lifted in a sly smile.

  Meghan had to work at keeping her jaw from dropping to the floor while pretending not to notice.

  Jae replied to Darcy's greeting by flipping his hair so that it dangled in between him and Meghan, then tossing Darcy a sideways sneer.

  Meghan tried to catch Jae's eye but he refused her gaze.

  What had she missed now? What had happened to make Jae Mochrie and Darcy Scraggs, two people known to hate each other, act now, like friends?

  Were they now friends?

  The very idea was preposterous.

  How on earth would this have happened?

  Jae despised Darcy!

  Even Daveena seemed confused by Darcy's actions, and threw Meghan a look that said, huh? Really?

  The world was upside down! She’d not just become a prisoner of sorts on the island, but it was some loopy version of it. This wasn’t real.

  Meghan needed to have an in-depth conversation with Ivan Crane, preferably sooner than later. This business of not knowing what was wrong with Jae needed to end, no matter what trouble he’d gotten himself into. And no matter what Ivan had to say about her being “ready” to hear it…

  CHAPTER 37

  Sunlight beamed through stained glass windows, sending streams of colorful light dancing over the floor of the classroom in which Colby restlessly
sat behind a desk. His piercingly blue eyes followed the dancing lights, rather than read the next question on his test.

  Jurekai Fazendiin, his father, and current teacher, cleared his throat from the front of the room, where he stood, arms folded, austerely overlooking his son’s lack of progress.

  “Sorry, Father,” Colby instantly responded, turning his attention back to the test lying in front of him.

  “You have ten minutes remaining. I suggest focus.”

  Colby tried to focus on the test, but he was much more interested in the dancing lights as well as the voice he was listening to in his mind; the voice of the girl, Meghan Jacoby. He had successfully been blocking this irritating girl’s voice for weeks, but suddenly today, he could not seem to tune it out. More like, he did not feel like it today.

  Irritating or not, her conversations are way more interesting than world history… and why do I need to learn this stuff? It’s got nothing to do with magic!

  “Five minutes,” his father reminded.

  Colby forced Meghan’s voice out of his thoughts and furiously finished his final answer, finishing with only seconds to spare. When he finished, he stood and handed the test to his father.

  “You can have a seat while I grade it,” Jurekai advised.

  “You’re going to grade it now?” Colby whined.

  Jurekai did not reply, but with a severe look motioned for Colby to sit.

  He plunked down, realizing he was on a sharp edge. “Sorry, Father,” he apologized again.

  Without looking at his son, his father said, “One of these days, possibly many years from now, you will understand the meaning of these lessons. But believe me when I say, I have been around long enough to know that even seemingly mundane or useless knowledge will one day prove its worth.”

  Colby replied, “Yes, Father,” and waited for his test results. He did not want to be stuck in this classroom, learning the history of a world he wasn’t a part of, and many years down the road or not, he could not see what use this knowledge would ever have to him. He stared blankly at the stained glass walls, watching the light fade as the sun moved too high to shine directly through.

  Stained glass walls lined nearly every room of the Fazendiin estate, allowing Jurekai’s mother to move from room to room, along with them, as she remained imprisoned in the glass.

  The colors near the classroom door started to swirl and there was a soft rapping just outside the door.

  “Mother,” Fazendiin spoke softly. “Please enter.”

  His mother’s figure swirled onto the glass where she nodded toward him.

  “My son. Someone approaches.”

  Fazendiin threw Colby’s test down and briskly hastened out of the classroom. Colby let out a sigh of relief, following his father to the front of the house where they stepped outside into the crisp autumn air, and toward the front gate; the gate that required the blood sacrifice to enter.

  Only four people had ever entered through that gate: Colby, Colby’s mother (no longer allowed), his father, and the gardener. Just outside of this gate, sitting to the left, was another building, also cloaked by magic. The location of this building was given to select few, and none were ever told that Fazendiin lived just a few steps away.

  Currently, only one person knew of this hidden meeting place, and his arrival meant one of two things: either his job was completed and successful, or more likely, that it had failed and there would be further delays.

  In order to keep his home secret, Fazendiin never used the blood sacrifice gate to enter this cloaked meeting place, which sat on a hillside overlooking a lake far below.

  The meeting place was circular in shape, windowless, and came to a point in the middle. To get to it, one had to climb a steep hill following a narrow pathway from the lake to the top of the hill. But to see the pathway and the building, one also had to sacrifice blood.

  Colby trudged along, behind his father. Fazendiin may have been hundreds of years old, but he walked with the gait of a much younger man. He also stood over six feet tall, so his stride was longer than Colby's, and he had to take two steps to match each of his fathers’.

  Fazendiin followed a hedge which ran alongside the front gate. Elisha, Colby’s catawitch, came sauntering up to his side, jumping into his arms.

  A few more steps along and they took a turn, inward, following a small pathway deeper into the gardens which surrounded the estate. Currently, every plant was in various states of decay as frost had killed everything a week before. The gardener had been busy for weeks harvesting what both Colby and his father would eat that winter.

  Colby shuddered. Not because of the food. Not because of the impending winter, sure to come. He glanced back toward the estate. The thought of spending a long winter here, locked away inside with only his father and a grandmother who could only move from stained glass wall to another stained glass wall... it was just more than he wanted to think about.

  “You have me, don't forget,” Elisha reminded.

  “Of course,” he said back to her. “But I know you don't want to be stuck here any more than I do.” Colby secretly admitted he was glad of the irritating girl, Meghan, and that he could sometimes listen in on her thoughts, as this would at least provide him entertainment. Elisha grimaced, not caring for this new fascination of his.

  Fazendiin came to a stop in front of a towering rock, one left behind from a glacier long ago. It was split in two and the tops were covered in prickly bushes, mosses, and dying vines, which had turned brown after freezing.

  The lower part of the split rock was sunken into the ground. Fazendiin walked to the center where it had split, stepping into the crack, disappearing. Colby followed without hesitation. Upon his next step, Colby entered a circular room. In the center stood a round wooden table, scratched and nicked from years of use. Some of his time here had been with various teachers.

  Six chairs encircled the table. They were tall-backed with intricate carvings. Only upon close inspection could one decipher the carvings: faces, frozen in a single moment of extreme duress.

  Hanging over the table was an equal sized chandelier, which held hundreds of flickering candles. The room was empty other than the table, chairs, and chandelier.

  Colby glanced back at where they had entered, but all he saw now was a bare wall. He took a seat, while Elisha hopped onto the table, sitting statuesquely at his side.

  Fazendiin took the seat next to his son, ordering, “Show yourself, KarNavan,” to their invisible visitor.

  The Striper leader materialized, seeming to peel away from the wall, the reptilian stripes he was so aptly named for forming on his skin. “Master,” he bowed. “I bring news.”

  “Sit,” bid Fazendiin.

  KarNavan bowed his head again and took a seat on the opposite side of the table. As he did, he nodded toward Colby. “Young Master,” he greeted.

  Colby frowned at KarNavan's use of the term, young, but returned his greeting with a silent nod. He never spoke in these meetings. He held his breath, however, in anticipation, as it had been KarNavan that had taken over his mission; the one his father had recalled him from in order to continue his schooling.

  “I see no book,” Fazendiin spoke, unsurprised.

  “No. No book. As you warned, it is proving more of a challenge than we hoped.” He clarified, “We have by no means, given up.”

  “Continue,” spoke Fazendiin, not interested in excuses and promises.

  “The book is not why I am here, Master. There is news on the Projector front.”

  “You located the child?” asked Fazendiin, tone flashing interest.

  KarNavan nodded apprehensively in reply.

  “Found and then lost,” assumed Fazendiin.

  “Located. Lost. But… a new discovery. Perhaps equal, if not more so, in value.”

  “And what could be as valuable as a young Projector, or the book of a dead one?”

  Colby twisted in his seat eager to learn what KarNavan had to say.


  KarNavan's eyes danced with dark excitement. “How about a long believed dead, very much living, Projector?” He took an arrogant breath, leaning back in his chair.

  “The Projectors were killed off by those stupid gypsy hunters,” Fazendiin argued, waving his hand in the preposterous notion.

  “Well,” began the Striper, flashing his bright teeth, “they missed one.”

  Fazendiin’s fixed stare warned KarNavan, do not waste my time.

  The Striper leader did not back down. “When the young Projector escaped our clutches, we tracked the magic of the adult Projector who assisted in the escape. Just a short blip to track, and it disappeared as fast as it appeared. But there is no mistake. There is a very much living and breathing Projector out there… somewhere.”

  Fazendiin’s eyes flashed desire for the shortest of moments, indicating his belief in this statement. “Does anyone else know of this discovery?” he asked with restrained calm.

  KarNavan shook his head, acknowledging dutifully, “We know the value of this secret, Master.”

  “A priceless secret,” Fazendiin conceded. “One you will be paid appropriately for, once your new mission is complete.”

  KarNavan’s eyes lit up, expectant of this assignment.

  “Colby,” started his father. “School is canceled, for the time being,” he made clear upon seeing his son’s exuberant response.

  Colby could barely contain his impatience to get started. A new mission. Anything is better than school.

  His father twisted back to KarNavan. “Wait here. My son will return shortly with instructions.”

  KarNavan nodded and stood as Fazendiin, Colby, and Elisha departed back through what looked like a bare, solid wall. Fazendiin strode toward his estate at normal speed, appearing eager but in no need to hurry while Colby huffed along behind him. Soon they were back inside the house and he followed his father into the safe room, where again, Fazendiin’s mother waited for them in her stained glass prison.

  “Mother,” he spoke lovingly, “please retrieve it for me.”