Night's Reckoning

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Night's Reckoning Page 7

by Elizabeth Hunter


  “I’m not in love with her.”

  “You don’t think so?”

  He crossed his arms and thought about the job ahead. Focused on that. It was a maritime recovery. Possible artifacts from the ninth century. He didn’t know much more than that, but he could get excited about the job. He’d never done a maritime recovery before; it was one of the reasons he wanted Fabia along. It would be a challenge, but a good addition to his résumé.

  Did he still care about his résumé?

  Maybe.

  Before long, they were touching down on another runway, but this time they weren’t surrounded by city. Green fields stretched away from the windows, and Ben saw cars in the distance. They exited the vehicle and walked to the cars. Ben kept Fabia’s hand in his the whole time, sensing her confusion.

  It was a lot to take in, even for someone like him who was familiar with vampire protocol. The court of the Eight Immortals was probably the most formal Ben knew of.

  “Any idea where we’re going now?” Fabia asked in Italian.

  Ben asked Andrew. “When do we meet the boat?”

  Andrew opened the car door for them and motioned to the porters to put their luggage in the trunk. “The only boat that leaves for the island is piloted by a water vampire. We will leave when Myung is ready to take us. I have an associate waiting at the dock, and they will call when it has been sighted.”

  “So not until after dark at least,” Ben said. “For now?”

  Andrew nodded toward a hangar in the distance. “We have a reception area for you to relax. You’ll be able to clean up and change there. A chef will prepare dinner for all of us.”

  Ben looked at Fabia, who nodded. “Sounds good.”

  “Thank you,” she said. “I would definitely like to clean up.”

  The cars drove to the rounded hangar in the distance. When they arrived, another group of humans welcomed them and took their luggage. Ben saw a slim man standing to the side with two large garment bags.

  “I see Mr. Huang is already here.” Andrew nodded to the man before he ushered Ben and Fabia through the hangar door. “Mr. Huang is the tailor I recommended to your uncle. He has your formal clothing for tonight. More casual clothing will be delivered to the ship before we leave.” He spread his arms to indicate the hangar, which had been transformed into a comfortable and modern lounge. “Until then, make yourselves at home.”

  It was ten o’clock when they boarded the boat helmed by a silent water vampire who looked barely legal to drive a car, much less pilot a centuries-old traditional Chinese sailing vessel.

  Fabia was dressed in a richly textured green silk chang-ao, a traditional garment that folded across the front like a robe. There was delicate gold embroidery around the collar and the long sleeves, but other than that, it was simple. And very rich.

  “You look beautiful.” Ben helped Fabia up the gangway leading onto the deck. “Any problems with the outfit?”

  “No.” Fabia turned and smiled. “I love it. I much prefer this to the skintight formal wear expected in the Roman court.”

  Ben smiled. “Emil does like his modern Italian designers, doesn’t he?”

  Ben’s black zhiduo was similar in style to Fabia’s outfit but far more severe. The silk was thick and unpatterned. The garment fell to the floor and nearly covered the simple shoes he’d been given. Loose pants completed the outfit. He felt like he was walking barefooted and his movement was unrestricted.

  Yes, far better than going into an unknown situation in a wool suit.

  He racked his memory, trying to think of the symbolism of the two colors, but there was too much in his mind.

  Andrew followed them, dressed in a blue zhiduo similar to Ben’s. “The Penglai court is more traditional than the current Roman court, though of course all the elders are well-versed in modern conventions and manners.”

  “Of course,” Ben said. He and Fabia took a seat on the forward deck of the ship while he watched their luggage being loaded. He kept his eyes on the locked laptop case that he normally carried himself. It would be impossible to keep it with him constantly, but having it out of his hands still made him itchy.

  “Please remember,” Andrew said, “you will not have any mobile phone service on the island. You are welcome to keep your electronics, but put them away. No photographs are permitted anywhere. There is no internet at all.” Andrew smiled. “With all deference to our Irish friends, Cara is not welcome here.”

  Cara was the electronic voice of the Nocht system developed by water vampire Patrick Murphy’s software company in Dublin. She was a modern, voice-activated assistant to vampires around the world who struggled to use modern technology because they usually shorted out electronics with their amnis.

  Fabia’s eyes went wide at the restrictions. “So no phones. No computers. Nothing?”

  “I’m afraid not, Miss Salvadori.”

  Ben nodded. “Is there any communication off the island?”

  “There is one landline you may use in emergencies. Other than that, if you must send a message to anyone, please contact me and I will arrange a courier.”

  The boat started to move, though Ben felt nothing. No wind. No motor. Fog grew thick around them, and they floated away from the land.

  “Wow.” Fabia looked around them. “It’s cold. Beautiful, but cold.”

  “I was worried I’d be too warm in this.” Ben remembered summer in Shanghai all too clearly. “But the tailor knew what he was doing.”

  They drifted silently through the water, moving fast enough that the wind whipped his hair around his face. Fabia tucked a blanket around herself and leaned into him.

  “How long?”

  It had only been fifteen minutes. Maybe twenty. But Ben knew without question. “Not much longer.”

  He could feel the energy like the draw of a great magnet. It pulled him.

  She pulled him.

  Ben saw the clouds thicken and gather like a layer of snow covering a mountain.

  Fabia squinted. “What am I seeing? There’s something there, but I can’t…”

  The water vampire in the bow of the ship heard her, turned, and lifted the corner of his mouth in a half smile. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed the fog back, revealing a massive, rocky mountain rising from the ink-black sea.

  Golden lights spiraled from the base to the summit. Sharp points of light flickered in the darkness like stars fallen from the sky. As they approached the dock, Ben saw a horse cart and two carriages waiting, steam rising from the huffed breath of the animals while humans rushed around the platform, ready to greet guests.

  “I feel like I’m in a movie,” Fabia said. “A really fancy one that will probably get nominated for awards. The costumes are going to be epic.”

  Andrew smiled. “You’re not far off, Miss Salvadori. Welcome to Penglai Island.”

  8

  Within minutes, Ben and Fabia had left the ocean behind and were bumping up the cobblestone road to the Palace of the Eight Immortals. As they went higher on the island, the trees grew thicker. The scent of wood smoke and incense filled the air. After a winding journey, they stopped in front of a giant stone gate guarded by two lions.

  Andrew descended from the carriage behind them. “Remember, both of you, I will be introducing you. Do not feel like you need to speak unless you are spoken to.”

  Fabia looked at Ben. “Will I—”

  “I don’t think so,” Ben said. “I told Zhang you were my assistant.”

  “Good.” Fabia’s skin was pale in the flickering torchlight. “I’d just as soon remain a spectator to this movie, thank you very much.”

  They followed Andrew under the gate and up the stairs to a set of doors guarded by humans in brown robes. The doors were layered in gold leaf and decorated with brightly colored stones.

  “This is quite the place,” Ben said quietly. He was silently taking stock of everything he saw. It was perfectly preserved architecture from the same era as the Forbidden City in Beijin
g. Sloping tile roofs and intricately carved posts and lintels layered with rich colors to invoke a sense of grandeur. The first doors led to a second set of doors with even more gold and more gemstone mosaics.

  Through the mosaic doors lay a formal courtyard garden lit with flaming torches and decorated with standing stones and trickling fountains. A lush green lawn led from the doors of the palace to the main hall.

  “Welcome to the Palace of the Eight Immortals,” Andrew said. “Here all elements exist in balance. The disputes of an empire are settled peacefully, judged by the eight wisest elders in history.”

  They walked through the courtyard and toward the steps to the main hall. Fabia was speechless behind Ben while Andrew narrated their journey.

  “You are guests of the most supreme Elder Zhang Guo, master of air and battle. He is the founder and oldest patron of Penglai.” He nodded to the garden they were walking through. “This area was planted by Cao, the youngest of the elders.”

  Earth vampire.

  “It’s very beautiful,” Fabia said.

  Ben was taking everything in. Every symbol, every color, every number. All had meaning. Nothing was chance.

  Black. Giovanni had dressed him in black. Why?

  They walked up the steps and toward a pair of monks who bowed low before they opened a pair of gold-covered doors. The gold wasn’t leafed. It was layered and chased with the symbol of a giant dragon clutching a pearl.

  “The doors are a gift of Elder Lu Dongbin, the current chairman of the council. The dragon, of course, is not a fire symbol here.”

  “It’s a water symbol,” Ben said. Water, like Giovanni’s family.

  “You are correct,” Andrew said.

  Black is a water color.

  Though his uncle had been sired to fire, Giovanni was an anomaly. All fire vampires were. They spontaneously erupted like an immortal genetic mutation. No pattern. No prediction. Often they killed themselves at a young age. Only the strongest and most controlled lived to maturity. Giovanni had come from water, and any children he had would be sired to it.

  Black.

  The Black Tortoise.

  Not a simple turtle, a warrior symbol and one of the cardinal points in the sky.

  Black Warrior. Water.

  It finally clicked in Ben’s brain. Giovanni had chosen black so that the elders would be reminded who Ben belonged to in their world. Some might have been tempted to see him as Tenzin’s human partner. Giovanni was reminding the elders—and reminding Ben—who he was.

  He was Giovanni Vecchio’s son.

  Ben had been chosen and adopted by the immortal child of Kato, ocean god of the ancient world. Reared by an assassin, a scholar, and a scribe.

  Ben lifted his chin as the doors swung open, and he walked into the Hall of the Elders of Penglai. Nothing could have prepared him for the sight.

  Silver leaf coated the walls, and massive malachite pillars held up a soaring roof. The floor was pure white marble, and rosewood panels lined either side of the center walkway.

  Ben kept his eyes forward as they followed Andrew.

  Easily a hundred people filled the Hall, all of them turning their attention to the newcomers as the three humans walked by. There were vampires and humans buzzing around, whispering in ears and casting sidelong glances at the mortals who merited an invitation and formal introduction to the Hall.

  And at the far end of the building, eight vampires sat on individual thrones, each reflecting a different geography or period. All were clothed in identical pure white, the color of death in Chinese mythology.

  Because they are the masters of death.

  Ben had memorized their names from books, but he couldn’t place all of them. There was no illustrated directory of vampire royalty that could give him a clue. He guessed that the tall, thin immortal in the center of the group was Lu Dongbin, water vampire and chairman of the council. The vampire to Lu’s right was the only woman on the council, He Xiangu, a legendary fire vampire said to keep a phoenix as a pet.

  Ben could also identify Lan Caihe on the far right, the other fire vampire on the council and possibly the most enigmatic. Elder Lan appeared to be the youngest of the council, but they were actually one of the oldest. Giovanni had instructed Ben never to underestimate them. Lan was cagey and clever, a gender-fluid trickster who enjoyed a bit of excitement and was often the one to provoke the more serious elders.

  The rest were mysteries Ben would have to discover another time.

  As they reached the front of the Hall, Ben and Fabia halted behind Andrew, who nodded to a bearded vampire on the far left with waist-length hair who could only be their host, Zhang Guo.

  He was clothed in white, but his robes reflected the style of the ancient Eastern Steppe. His features were Central Asian, like Tenzin’s, though his eyes were dark. His skin was darker and his beard thicker.

  Ben locked eyes with the immortal, refusing to look away as Zhang took stock of the humans in front of him. His expression was unreadable.

  He looks like Tenzin.

  Or rather, Tenzin looked like him.

  Ben hadn’t been expecting that.

  Was there a blood relation? Did they come from the same family? Ben knew so little about Tenzin’s human life—he had no way of telling what her human relationship to her vampire sire might have been. Whatever he’d been as a human, as an immortal, Zhang was one of the most powerful presences Ben had ever felt.

  The elder rose and said, “Welcome, Andrew Leu, my dear friend. It is always a pleasant sight to see you in our hall.”

  Andrew bowed deeply but did not angle his neck, indicating he was not Zhang’s blood donor. “Thank you, Elder Zhang.”

  “Please introduce my guests.”

  “Honored Zhang Guo, esteemed elders of the Hall, I present to you Benjamin Amir Santiago Vecchio, adopted son of Giovanni Vecchio. He is a friend of Rome and Master of Iron in Lothian.”

  Zhang Guo looked directly at him. “Welcome to Penglai, Benjamin Vecchio.”

  Ben finally spoke. “Thank you, Elder Zhang. It is my honor to be here.”

  Where was Tenzin? Was she watching? There were too many vampires in the Hall, and he couldn’t sense her. The press of amnis was too strong.

  Andrew continued. “It is also my pleasure to introduce Fabiana Teresa Salvadori, human scholar under the aegis of Giovanni Vecchio. She is a friend of Rome and an assistant professor of archaeology and art history.”

  As Ben’s eyes furtively scanned the Hall, a pleasant murmur of approval surrounded him. He had to stifle a smile. Apparently being a scholar of Rome was far more agreeable than being a sword master in Scotland.

  Where was she? She had to be here.

  Elder Zhang said, “Welcome to the great hall, Miss Salvadori. Scholars and teachers are always welcome in Penglai.”

  Fabia’s face was pleasantly flushed, and her voice was barely audible. “Thank you very much.”

  Andrew bowed again. “I thank the elders for their attention and ask if there is any assistance I can offer at this time as a friend of the court.”

  “There is not,” Lu Dongbin said. “Thank you, Mr. Leu.”

  A subtle murmur rose in the Hall, and Ben saw attention had already drifted away from them. This was a busy place, and they were three humans who were guests. No one was going to halt their evening to make a fuss over them.

  Andrew turned and motioned them toward the back of the room with raised eyebrows.

  “That is all,” he whispered. “You are introduced. We must go.”

  Ben looked over his shoulder one more time to see Zhang speaking to someone just beyond a screen to his right.

  For a moment he saw her, and she saw him.

  A flash of red silk, a pair of grey eyes, and a second later, Tenzin was gone.

  Why had he brought the Italian girl?

  A sour taste filled Tenzin’s mouth as she paced in Zhang’s antechamber. Her fangs nicked her bottom lip and she tasted blood. Why had Ben brought tha
t woman? Zhang’s letter hadn’t asked for Ben to bring a team. It had asked him to come to Penglai. Him. No one else.

  Zhang entered the room off the Hall of Elders where he met in private with petitioners or took breaks to meditate. The room had vaulted ceilings and windows to the outdoors, in respect of his element. When Zhang required her to be in the Hall, she most often remained here.

  “Give him some time to settle in, then summon him to meet me,” he said.

  “Send a servant.” She bit out the words.

  “No.” Zhang looked at her. “I have allowed you to set the terms of this assignment and have coerced your human to the island. I have already agreed to pay him an additional fee to what I am paying Cheng and you. But I am not your intermediary. Whatever conflict you have with this man, it is yours to settle. If you want me to hire him, you can bring him to me. You, Tenzin. Not a servant.”

  Tenzin’s eyes flashed. “So pronounces the Great Arbiter.”

  Zhang’s gaze was steady. “Should I fear your rage? Your condemnation? You have given me both.” He spread his arms. “And yet I remain your sire. As I always will be. It would be wise of you to remember that.”

  “It would be wise of you to remember that it is your alliances that suffer from the loss of the Laylat al Hisab, not mine.”

  Zhang raised one eyebrow. “Do you have alliances? I thought your only loyalty was to yourself?”

  Tenzin stepped toward her sire, spread her arms dramatically, and got down on her knees before she put her face to the ground. She pressed her forehead to the cold marble before she looked up with fire in her eyes. “Aabmen.”

  My father. The words he always longed to hear, spoken in the most patronizing voice she could muster.

  Zhang smirked. “Never before has a bow held so much defiance.”

  She rose to her knees. “What other allegiance should I have, Father, but to myself and the few beings who please me? Have I not learned your lessons well?”

 

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