Thirst for Vampire (Kingdom of Blood and Ash Book 2)

by D. S. Murphy

  “We have elixir, and we have the map,” Trevor said. “What’s in Sezomp that’s worth the risk?”

  I studied the tall fence that surrounded the compound, cutting though the mud and sparse trees. It was a scrappy thing, made of thin strands of barbed wire and long thin planks of wood. No doubt electrified like the one in Algrave. I could feel the hum as I got closer. I peered in through the fence, examining the town.

  A few men were standing by the side of a building, smoking tobacco in a long pipe. Otherwise the town seemed quiet, mostly empty. Tingles spread up my spine.

  Luke was right to be careful, but we’d be strangers here, and I wouldn’t need to steal. Maybe things would go smoothly, and we’d be gone by the morning.

  Plus, I knew they were looking at me for a plan, and I didn’t have one. I barely knew what I was doing, and if I was forced to think about it too long I might fall apart. I needed some time, and a good sleep, before I was ready for this conversation.

  “Let’s go in,” I said. “If Fanno Creek is around here, they may know the way. It beats stumbling around in the dark, unless you want to sleep in the mud. And it might be our last hot meal for awhile.”

  “Fair point,” Jazmine said. “I feel gross.”

  We crossed over towards the open dirt road that lead into the compound entrance. A handful of men with orange beards guarded the gate, with pistols stuck into their belts. My eyes widened at the firearms, which shouldn’t have been permitted in the compounds.

  “Militia,” Trevor said, nodding at the purple insignia on their battered cloaks.

  “I suppose we should be thankful they aren’t royal guards,” I said under my breath as we approached.

  “That’s far enough,” one of the men, with a thick gray mustache, stepped forward.

  “State your business.”

  I raised my palms, closing the gap between us.

  “We’re seeking food and shelter,” I said, “for my companions and myself. We’ll be gone by morning.”

  “This compound is protected by King Richard. We don’t share our supplies with strangers.”

  “We can trade,” I said.

  “With what?” another man asked, standing up.

  I clenched my jaw, stalling for time. Besides our weapons, we didn’t have any coin. Our stolen elixir was probably worth a fortune, but it was also illegal contraband.

  “Information,” Jazmine said, stepping forward. “News from the citadel, and Crollust. Surely you saw the lanterns a few days ago, no wonder you’re on edge. And if that’s not enough, some very fine dresses and materials. We hid them a few days away, we can draw you a map to them.”

  “Ain’t got much use for dresses,” the man spat, with a tense smile. A few of the others chuckled behind him.

  Penelope stepped forward, dropping her hood. The men gasped when they saw her luminous eyes, then shifted nervously.

  “Apologies for the deception,” she said. “The truth is, we’re on a mission for King Richard. Dangerous rebels are in the area, and we think they may be infiltrating the compounds and stealing elixir.”

  The men shared nervous glances with each other. I was sure they knew something.

  “I appreciate your skepticism, it’s your job to protect Sezomp and you’ve done an admirable job. I’ll be sure to relay my compliments to the king myself personally. However, as I’m sure you understand, discretion is paramount to our mission.”

  The men fell back to discuss amongst themselves, shooting us dark glances.

  “I have a feeling they’re more sympathetic to the rebels than the elites,” Trevor said under his breath. “Maybe we should have told them the truth.”

  After another moment, the men broke their huddle and unlatched the gate, swinging it open. Their eyes trailed us as we entered the compound.

  “Word is sure to get back to Richard about this,” Camina said.

  “Yeah but we’ll be gone by then.”

  Sezomp was larger than I thought. Once we passed through the trees, a long dirt path led to a wide clearing, filled with small log cabins on raised stilts. On the outskirts of the town, flooded fields grew wild rice and sweet potatoes.

  But the mood was tense. Doors and windows closed at our approach. In the town center, a wide square held the customary statue of King Richard.

  I noted how each compound featured a different portrayal of the royal savior. I wondered if he told us different lies as well. In this one, he posed triumphantly, sword raised, one foot standing on a slain slagpaw. The statue was all stone, except for a gold-plated crown. Trevor frowned at it as we passed.

  The buildings around the central square at one time had been painted in bright colors, with elevated facades that made them appear much large than they really were. But the paint had long since faded. And a few of the buildings seemed to tilt dangerously as their front-facing walls sank into the mud.

  Of the residents who did pass us, most were older, with hard creases and slumped shoulders, their hair graying at the ends. Near a small herb and flower garden, some kind of shrine had been set up, filled with wooden toys and child-like drawings.

  “This place gives me the creeps,” April said. We passed a few barns full of oxen and pigs. Geese strode purposely through the streets, digging for wriggling larva in the soft mud.

  Shirtless men worked in open-air factories, forming clay into bricks and stacking them near outdoor kilns. A row of women sat at wheels, spinning low tables and shaping the mud into bowls and urns. In another hall, the pots and dishes were glazed and decorated in earthen colors.

  “Their chief export,” Penelope said. The only spots of color in the dismal landscape were bright patches of yellow daffodils, growing like weeds around the buildings.

  After visiting Crollust, Sezomp seemed sad, almost tragic, though it was a few steps down from Algrave, it was a world apart from the opulent seaside city.

  Still, it wasn’t that bad; it had a kind of rural charm – at least it should have. But an oppressive silence seemed to hang in the air. The work was done without talking or laughter. It was like everyone was under some awful spell.

  We found our way to the central tavern, which was starting to fill for the dinner hours, and were served a spicy bean stew with thick brown bread and ale.

  We’d almost finished eating when the doors swung open. I saw Camina stiffen, her hand on the hilt of the dagger on her belt. I clenched the vials of elixir in my pocket protectively, hoping we wouldn’t need them.

  The men settled into a nearby table, watching us, their swords gleaming in the candles and late afternoon light through the windows.

  I recognized at least one of the men from the main gate, along with a clean-shaven man with gray curls and an angular hat. Unlike most of the inhabitants, he was wearing a clean blue suit that looked out of place and fit poorly.

  “I’m Mayor Beechum,” he said, pulling a chair up to our table, across from Trevor and Luke.

  “I was notified of your arrival and wanted to make sure there’s nothing you need.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. “I understand you’re on a secretive mission, and of course can rely on Sezomp’s full compliance. We serve at the leisure of the king. Live together, die apart,” he said, placing his hand over his heart like he was swearing fealty.

  The rest of the inn, while it had already been quiet, was now deathly silent. It seemed like the dozen people at the surrounding tables had stopped moving and leaned closer, no doubt hoping to overhear our conversation. The mayor noticed the unease.

  “More beer for my esteemed guests,” he called out. “On my tab of course. As a matter of fact, free drinks for everyone!”

  This was met by a chorus of approval. Several of the men downed their metal mugs, tapping them on the side of the table. At least it helped lighten the tense mood.

  “There is one thing,” Trevor said, slowly pulling out our maps.

  “Later,” the mayor said quietly, pushin
g them off the table again.

  “First, let’s show the town you’re no threat to us. Truth be told, we don’t get many traders, and even fewer elite.” He nodded toward the empty plate in front of Penelope. She frowned at him, crossing her arms. “After you eat, I hope you’ll visit my home for a more private conversation.”

  Trevor nodded, folding away the map and stuffing it carefully in his leather satchel.

  Conversation began to flow around us, the novelty of our arrival wearing off, as the townsfolk got deeper into their cups.

  A few tables away, I noticed a woman quietly sobbing, squeezing a frazzled teddy bear.

  “Something is not right here,” I whispered to Trevor. “We need to be on our guard.”

  After another half hour the mayor motioned us towards the doors and we followed him outside. Dusk had set in, and bright sparks hovered over the fields.

  I felt a moment of dysphoria, thinking that toxic embers were falling inside the compound, and the fields were going to catch on fire, before I recognized the haphazard movement of fireflies. We also passed another shrine, this one with handwritten notes. Several women were lighting candles. Men sat on porches with their long, curved pipes, surrounded in plumes of curling smoke. Several streets away was a tall, two-story house with a wide balcony.

  The mayor led us down the hall into a surprisingly cozy living room, with a marble fireplace mantle, thick leather couches and a bookshelf filled with yellowing volumes.

  A small piano was placed against the wall.

  “Do you play?” Camina asked.

  “My daughter did,” the man said, masking a brief look of pain. “Now, you wanted to ask me about your map?”

  He cleared the wide dining table, which looked like it hadn’t been used in awhile, disturbing a thin film of dust. Trevor unfolded the map April had given me and pointed out the areas we’d marked.

  “We think Sezomp is about here,” he said, pointing. “Though we don’t know for sure,” he said, placing Penelope’s rough, hand-drawn sketch of the compounds on the table.

  “We are trying to get here, in an area that was once known as Fanno Creek.”

  The mayor looked over Trevor’s maps with interest, before pulling out an official map of the compounds and the new territories. This one was much more detailed, showing each compound in its proper relation to the citadel, as well as marking major geographical features and the remains of fallen cities from before the Culling. Luke and Camina gathered closer around Trevor and the mayor to study it. Jazmine was more interested in the piano; she sat down and began playing a simple tune on the keys. I was drawn to the bookshelf, and was just reaching for a volume when the mayor’s startled gasp made me jerk my hand away.

  “The area you’re looking for, Fanno’s Creek,” he said, his face ashen. “We call it the lurks. But you can’t go there, it’s too dangerous.”

  “We understand the risks,” I said. “We aren’t afraid of slagpaw.”

  “It’s not that,” he said. “It’s much worse. They say it’s the last refuge of the damned, cursed by a foul witch. Those who enter, do not return.”

  He reached for a bottle from a liquor cabinet behind him. He seemed almost ready to drink straight from the bottle before he remembered his manners, and pulled out a tray with small crystal glasses.

  Then he reached for a smaller glass decanter, and poured something dark into a metal goblet.

  “I think you’ll like this,” he said, offering it to Penelope. “Most elite find our blood a little earthy, but my family started experimenting a few decades ago. This vintage was allowed to mature in oak casks for twelve years. I’m told it’s very good.”

  Penelope frowned at first, but her eyes widened as she sniffed the viscous red liquid.

  She gave me a timid glance but I nodded. She was malnourished as it was, and she should consume as much extra blood as she could.

  She hesitated for another second before downing it like a shot. She closed her eyes for a moment and let out a tiny moan, before sitting up straighter and pushing out her glass for a refill. The wet, red stain on her lips made her skin look even more pale.

  Beechum filled her cup, and took a sip of his brandy for fortitude, before continuing his story.

  “About a year ago,” he said, “my daughter was taken. A week later, my wife went after her. Neither have returned.”

  A chill ran down my spine.

  “What do you mean, taken?” Trevor asked.

  “She’d been having dreams, hearing voices. Twice I found her sleepwalking near the edge of town. Then one morning, she was gone.”

  “The wilds are dangerous,” Camina said. “Especially for children or women traveling alone. It’s not uncommon for children to get lost in the ash. That’s why the compounds were built, to keep them safe.”

  Luke scoffed and I ribbed him with my elbow.

  “That’s exactly what the citadel said,” Beechum grumbled. “We’ve been sending letters, protests, with every visitor, but nobody takes us seriously, and they don’t seem that concerned with us. We make our shipments on time. We bleed ourselves dry for the elite. Maybe they’d pay more attention if we stopped.”

  “Maybe they would,” Luke said.

  “Or maybe they’d punish you,” I said. “Surely there’s another way?”

  “Someone needs to find out what’s really happening in the lurks,” the mayor said. “And since you’re heading that way already...”

  “You want us to find the missing children?” April asked.

  “If they’re alive, yes. But at the very least, report the cause to the king on your return, so that action can be taken. After all, it’s his citizens at risk. My rangers will take you to the edge of the area, as close as they dare.”

  “We’ll need elixir,” Camina said. “And weapons.”

  “You know the compounds are on a tight ration,” the mayor said. “Though I’m sure some of the parents may be willing to forego a week or two.”

  “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “We don’t want them to suffer more than they already have. But we’ll take whatever provisions or weapons you can spare.”

  “Then,” he said, raising his glass and finishing his drink with a flourish, “we will leave at dawn.”

  The mayor showed us to our rooms. At night, his manor, though large, was silent and eerie. Nobody else wanted to stay in his daughter’s room, which had a small bed and was filled with dolls. A wooden rocking horse sat beneath the moonlit windowsill. I took it because I needed some time alone, despite Trevor offering to split a room together. I was too tired to be good company and after weeks of having no personal space, or sleeping on the ground, I was eager to get a good night’s rest.

  It was strange how comforting it was to be back inside a compound; even though Sezomp was foreign to me, it felt more like home than anything since Algrave.

  My eyes closed as soon as I lay my head down on the soft pillow. Hours later, the sound of a door creaking snapped them open again. I stood up and looked out the window just in time to see Penelope, moving across the grass below. She was wearing a thin nightgown, and clutching a lantern that cast long shadows in the grass around her.

  I grabbed my coat and the one dagger I’d managed to hang onto since Crollust, and fled down the stairs barefoot, following her through the dark streets. She was moving slowly, and I could have caught up with her if I wanted, but curiosity got the better of me. She looked too much like a hunter, stalking her prey. She’d handled herself well in Crollust, but it had been her family’s home. Perhaps out here in the wild, her elite thirst would be less easy to control. If she really was dangerous, I had to know.

  The compound spread further into the woods, and I cursed myself for not bringing shoes when my bare feet squelched into the soft clay of the marshlands at the edge of the compound. Luckily, the humming of the purification engines drowned out my footsteps. Light flickering through the thin trees caught my attenti
on, then voices. I lost track of Penelope in the woods, but shifted towards this new target.

  A group of men were gathered around the engines, carrying a large crate and tools that glinted in the torchlight. One of them turned, and I gasped when I recognized him. I didn’t know his name, but I was sure I’d seen him before, in Havoc.

  One of the rebels. I crept closer. There were about ten figures, stocky men, a handful from Sezomp, given their clothing and appearance. The rest could have been from anywhere. I wondered how they’d gotten in, and whether the mayor knew the rebels were already here, inside his gates. Maybe that’s why they hadn’t wanted to let us in at first. Maybe the mayor’s invitation and the story he told us had all just been a distraction, to keep us occupied.

  But what were the rebels doing way out here, in the middle of the night? I realized the answer when they started pulling wired devices out of the large box and setting them up around the purring machines, which were so loud I couldn’t hear anything they were saying. But I knew their agenda. They were going to follow through with Jacob’s plan, and destroy the engines.

  My heart caught in my throat. The villagers would wake up tomorrow drowning in ash. They’d be quarantined to their homes. It could take weeks, or months, before engineers from the citadel could rebuild. I looked around desperately for Penelope, but didn’t see her. There was nobody else to stop them.

  No one but me.

  I reached into my coat pocket, pulling out the half-empty vial of elixir. I took a sip, waiting until the monitor on my bracelet read 5%, before I came out of hiding with my hands raised. Two of the men spun when twigs snapped under my bare feet, training their rifles on me.

  “That’s far enough,” one of the men growled, searching into the woods behind me with a flashlight.

  “You don’t have to do this,” I said. “If you destroy the machines, the ash will kill everyone in the village. And whoever is left, the elite won’t take kindly on.”