by Platt, Sean
Trying unsuccessfully to escape Judith’s hold, Raina cried out, “Daddy!”
Hugo closed his eyes, basking in the glow of his feeding. Then they flicked open. He began to look around the room, then got up in Raina’s face, so close Caleb was certain he was going to feed on her next.
But instead, he asked, “Where is your little sister?”
Caleb’s heart sank as he looked under the bed, still a blur.
Young Raina lied, “She’s at her friend’s for the night.”
Hugo looked Young Raina up and down as if trying to sniff out a lie. Caleb could see a thousand ways this could sour. He wanted to turn away, desperate to leave this memory. But if Raina was watching it play out, he had no choice but to join her.
Someone was suddenly yelling outside. The local authorities coming to save the day. Hugo turned to Judith. “I’ll take care of them. You see if the sister is here.”
Hugo marched out of the room, about to feed again. Caleb wondered if the local forces were prepared for what they were about to encounter, wondered how common it was to fight vampires.
Unlike last time, Raina offered no information, now staring at the past playing out, shaking and crying.
Raina’s little sister had gone from a blur back into a child. Staring up at her sister, hand covering her mouth, tears soaking her face.
Oh God, she’s looking at her.
Judith noticed.
She stepped forward, bending over to look.
“Oh, you’re just a wee one, aren’t you?”
“Please,” Young Raina cried out. “Please, take me. Just leave her alone.”
Judith looked at Raina, weighing the request as Hugo, in the next room, murdered the men who came to rescue Raina’s family.
Judith stared at Raina through an eternity of screams and gurgling as she slowly decided.
And in that moment, Caleb thought he saw something he’d seen many times in cases of domestic abuse. Judith wasn’t just helping Hugo with his crimes; she was a victim herself, probably taken under similar circumstances.
Maybe that would be enough to give her pause, to disobey Hugo’s instructions and spare at least one of the sisters.
But Caleb also knew something else from his time with the Agency — people under pressure rarely did the right thing.
“Sorry,” Judith said, reaching under the bed to pull the girl out.
“Talani!” Raina screamed.
Then they were back in the present, in the interrogation room, staring at one another not as interrogator and hostage but fellow victims in an endless war of misery.
Caleb withdrew his hands and sat on the floor across from her.
“What happened next?”
“They sold me, turned me, and … bad things happened. I don’t know what came of Talani. We were separated immediately, and they said she was in a place where she was being cared for, not forced to do the things I was. But I don’t know if that was the truth, or leverage to keep me in line. For all I know, they killed her. I’ve looked for a long time, but never found answers.”
She wiped at her tears then continued. “After I don’t know how many years, The Hand of the Seven Gods stormed into the place where I was being held and rescued a bunch of us. They killed our captors, but they never found Hugo, Judith, or Talani.”
“I’m sorry.”
“The Hand saved us. Saved me. I owe them everything, which is why I fight for them now. Why I …”
She looked at his wounds then down at the ground. “I’m sorry.”
Caleb nodded. “I understand.”
He thought about the things he had to do for his job on Earth, the times he may have gone too far. He hadn’t tortured anyone, but he might have if given the chance.
“So, now what?”
“I’ll talk to Prophet Malachi. Would you be interested in joining us in our fight against your brother and father? It wouldn’t be too unlike the job you had on Earth.”
Caleb wasn’t sure he wanted to join anyone in anything, let alone some “prophet’s” cult, but it seemed like the only option that might return his sense of freedom. Perhaps he could enlist The Hand’s help in tracking down Jacob and killing him.
“Yes, I would.”
Sixteen
Abigail
Abigail woke in darkness, naked save for a sheet covering her body.
She was lying on a soft cloth-and-straw mat in a small room barely lit by a light floating in a glass jar on the floor beside her.
The wood had weird circular patterns. And, like the floor, the walls were wooden as well, with an odd texture she couldn’t quite make out in the sparse light.
Her head foggy, she looked to her right and saw Judith sleeping on a mat beside hers. She also appeared to be naked except for a sheet covering her from the chest down.
Or maybe she’s dead?
Abigail saw the same black veins she’d see on her own skin now creeping up Judith’s arms, chest, and face.
She’s sick too?
A voice in her head, familiar and comforting: “Yes,” Talani said. “She took some of the poison from you, to save you.”
Abigail looked down to see that her own dark veins were almost gone. She could move her legs. She still felt like crap, but no longer on the verge of death.
Did we find the witch?
Am I cured?
Is Judith going to be cured?
A round wooden door opened. Talani entered then closed the door behind her.
“How are you?”
“Okay.” Abigail sat up, raising the sheet to cover herself.
“Good,” Talani said, walking over to a chair and grabbing Abigail’s neatly folded clothes. “I washed them in the river.”
Abigail noticed that Talani’s clothes were also cleaned, patched, and sewn where they’d been torn during the fight.
“Where are we? How long have I been out? And why are we naked?”
“We’re in Kovar. Turns out we were in the village, we just couldn’t see it. They live in the trees. As for how long you’ve been out, I’m not even sure what day it is, but I’d guess maybe a few. As for your nakedness, the witches put a poultice on you both to extract the poison. They said not to bathe for a few more days. It’s still working its magick.”
Abigail had many thoughts and questions, bathing at the top of her list. How were they supposed to bathe here, or use the bathroom?
“The old-fashioned way,” Talani said, reading Abigail’s mind. “And no, it’s not glamorous.” She looked down. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to still be inside your head. I was just waiting for you to wake up, and …”
“It’s okay. I like having you in there. So, what did the witch say? Will I be okay? Will Judith?”
Talani went over and sat beside Judith as Abigail dressed. “The witch said you should both be okay, though Judith will take longer to heal.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s not young like us.”
Abigail looked at the woman lying helpless with poison meant for Abigail coursing through her veins and marring her skin.
“I owe her,” Abigail said.
Talani nodded. Then instead of speaking aloud, said into Abigail’s head, “And she won’t let you forget it.”
“What do you mean?”
“Later,” Talani said, still inside her mind. Then, out loud: “Before you get too comfortable, there’s something you need to know.”
“What’s that?” Abigail asked, her stomach churning.
“The witch didn’t do this for free. They want something in exchange for saving you both.”
Abigail’s stomach did another lurch. “What’s that?”
“You’re not gonna like this.”
“What?” Abigail asked, annoyed at Talani for stringing it out.
The door opened, and someone, some thing, shambled into the room.
It was long, skinny, and covered in twisting gnarled roots and leaves. It looked like a human-sized tree. Its face was square
and flat with hollowed-out pits for eyes. Except the pits weren’t hollow so much as filled with a glowing green light that seemed to emanate from fissures along the creature’s body.
Abigail couldn’t help but be shocked by its appearance. She barely even realized that in her fear she’d fallen to a crouch, ready to run.
“It’s okay,” Talani said, easing her back to a sitting position. “They’re safe.”
Abigail stared at the thing, trying to figure out what it was, how it even worked. A chill ran through her. It was a walking tree, for lack of anything else to call it, but it had human-like appendages — arms, legs, and long, twisting fingers, all seemingly made up of dark reddish-brown bark, twisted limbs made of vines and foliage, and a gnarled mess that seemed to be dark mud or clay holding it all together. She wondered if the green light shining in its eyes and seemingly within its body were some sort of life force that propelled it, or something else she couldn’t even guess at.
“Hello, Abigail,” the thing said as it stepped inside the doorway with a rustling sound. And yet the words weren’t spoken, for it had no proper mouth. Instead, the creature projected the words into her head telepathically, same as Talani. And its voice sounded like her own.
Abigail wondered if it could read her thoughts and could see how creepy she found it.
“What are you?” Abigail asked.
“We are the Druwan. We are pleased to meet you.”
Abigail didn’t know what to do. Custom was to shake people’s hand, but this wasn’t a person, and she hadn’t shaken a hand since long before she turned into a vampire that could kill with a touch.
“I’m Abigail. Do you have a name?”
“No, we are all one. We’ve no use for names.”
“So, um, what are you? Are you like trees living inside of larger trees?”
Talani stifled a laugh.
Abigail realized that her question was too forward, and maybe offensive.
“I’m sorry.”
“We are Druwan, the oldest sentient life on this world. Despite appearances, we are not trees. We are custodians of the Sacred Woods.”
“Is that where we are now?”
“Yes.”
“Are you the witch?”
“No, she is one of the humans we allow to live here. She protects the Sacred Woods alongside us.”
“Thank you for saving us.”
“You are most welcome.”
“What was it you wanted in exchange?” Abigail asked, wondering what a tree-like thing could ask of them that would be as awful as Talani made it seem. Did it want them to stay there forever? Or to become whatever it was they were? Abigail might not mind staying with them if it was safe, but she had no interest in changing into yet something else.
“We need you to find and kill a man in the Town of Jonah.”
“Who?”
“His name is Baltazar, a crafter of tools and weapons.”
“What did he do?”
“He is entering the Sacred Woods and using our trees, killing us for parts for his magick weapons. So far he has come alone, so I believe this is his secret. But it won’t be long before others follow. And then they will destroy this place.”
“Why don’t you just kill him when he’s here?” Abigail asked.
“We cannot kill. We value all life here.”
“But what about the witch, or some of the others? Couldn’t you get some of them to do it?”
“No killing in the Sacred Woods. Your friend said you were going to the Town of Jonah. There you shall end him.”
Abigail considered this, then asked, “Is he a bad guy?”
“Bad?”
“You know, evil. Is he evil? I can only kill evil people. I can’t kill innocents.”
“We don’t see things like you, in terms of good and evil. But to answer your question, this man has killed more than ten of our kind, and destroyed another twenty sacred trees in the past year. He’s also a werewolf who has been known to hunt humans. Would that count as evil to you?”
Abigail looked up at the big tree’s face. Though it was creepy, and though its face was missing expression without moving parts, and more or less a squarish block with glowing eyes, there was something she found cute about it now.
“A werewolf? Yeah, I’d say that counts as him being a bad guy.”
“Then you’ll do it?”
Talani answered, “Consider him dead.”
“The Druwan thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Abigail said.
As the creature shuffled out of the room, Abigail couldn’t help but think of Larry and her back home, searching through newspapers to find bad people that needed to die. Using her curse to help others felt good — except for the time Larry got it wrong and they killed that woman who hadn’t really killed her kid.
Thinking about that only made her miss Larry, and John, all the more.
Talani nudged her, “Are you okay? You’re thinking about your friends again, aren’t you?”
There was no use lying since Talani could more or less come and go as she wanted in Abigail’s head.
“Yeah. Don’t you ever miss anyone from your life before this? Before becoming a vampire?”
Talani looked at the ground, as if thinking of someone specific.
“More than you know.”
Seventeen
Jacob
Jacob was standing alone in The Keep as the sun went down, looking out over the so-called Forgotten Kingdom. A warm breeze blew through The Keep, and with it came the stink of the city below.
It may have been The Forgotten City, a squalid town of crudely stacked buildings, bustling with too many people crammed together. It may have served as a surprisingly thriving commercial center, and several communities had made it a true home, but it was no Forgotten Kingdom, as Father called it.
Not like the majestic kingdom in the mountains that Jacob had known as a young child, before The Great Purge forced them, and most every other non-magick person, south as The North and their tech displaced hundreds of thousands of people and destroyed their homes. After four thousand years of fighting, the North had finally secured victory by secretly using The Hand of the Seven Gods to help them scourge the world of vampires and magick users, killing many while rounding up others to torture in the dungeons beneath the Stone Pillars in the capital city.
While Father had secured some form of victory by claiming this island as a “kingdom,” it was a pathetic offering to pacify the only holdouts who could’ve prevented the peace treaty.
Jacob still hated his father for signing the Treaty, for not fighting harder. For betraying his own kind.
Calling this a kingdom was an affront to the Valkoer and those forced to live here.
It had been years since anyone in The Southern Realm had been to The North, save for The Hand of the Seven Gods, who kissed their rings and worshipped their tech and rules.
As if any man could tell another how to live.
Jacob looked past his shitty kingdom toward the northern horizon, but from this distance saw nothing beyond the tree-lined horizon and mountains to the north. Couldn’t see skyscrapers, countless lights, zeppelins dotting the sky, or any of the other wonders of the modern age.
To be fair, he hadn’t seen any of these so-called wonders himself. When he lived closer, in the northernmost part of The Southern Realm, Jacob kept mostly to his own land. While the lands were joined by a thin ten-mile natural bridge, his kind weren’t welcome in The North, even before The Great Purge bled into The South, what with the constant warring.
Perhaps The North was more civilized, more homogenous, and more advanced, but what did it all mean in the end?
Jacob had seen plenty of amazing sights on Earth. While that planet was more advanced than The North of this world in some ways, it was less so in others. Still, the societies seemed similar enough to Jacob that he could lump them both with things he despised. Both civilizations laughed at the old ways and what they didn’t unde
rstand, denying the existence of anything that didn’t fit into their codified precepts of How the World Should Be.
Both worlds were blindly poking hibernating beasts whom they could never understand.
And they would pay.
They’ll all burn when I’m done.
Jacob smiled at the thought of millions of people who thought they were so much better than him having to bow before he enslaved their so-called best and brightest, destroyed their armies, and made them regret ever making him feel like a monster.
It will be wonderful indeed.
Jacob’s hand found his belt, and he withdrew the blade that his brother Caleb had stabbed him with. The blade that had nearly killed him. He looked at it, black onyx with tiny flecks of silver throughout. He liked holding onto something which had nearly ended him. It gave him a sense of mastery over his life, and fate.
A throat cleared behind him.
Jacob turned, startled, not used to anyone being able to sneak up on him.
Sir Tomas Barron stood in the chamber doorway. The young-looking knight wasn’t wearing his usual black armor or weapons, but rather his formal clothing — a dark blue robe covering black pants and a shirt.
“Forgive me, my Prince, I wished to speak with you alone.”
“Alone?”
It was highly unusual for Barron to speak with Jacob alone, let alone seek him out.
“Yes, my Prince. Could I have a moment of your time?”
Jacob sheathed the blade then considered Barron’s request.
Jacob hated the man’s overly polite mannerisms, which, along with his unnatural good looks, reminded Jacob of all the superficial humans he’d been around while stuck on Earth.
“What is it, Sir Barron?”
The knight approached, hands folded before him.
“May I speak freely? Without fear of retribution?”
Jacob didn’t know the man’s game, but he’d better tread lightly.
“What is it?”
“I think your father is making a mistake.”
Jacob’s face flushed with a sudden anger. “You dare doubt your King’s wisdom?”
“It’s not King Zol’s wisdom I question. Rather it is Viceroy Mason’s, and his undue influence upon your father since you’ve been gone.”
