A Shade of Vampire 73: A Search for Death

by Forrest, Bella

  “I… Oh, man, have I got a story for you,” Harper mumbled.

  Zane stilled, his eyes fixed on something across the pool hall. “Harper, what is that?”

  She turned her head, her eyes widening. I followed her gaze and found myself frozen by a flurry of sharp chills. There was something here, something invisible and big and quiet. “That’s a ghoul,” Harper said.

  I was the first to jump out of the pool and head straight for the creature, capturing its movements as the air rippled around it. I drew my sword, the blade screeching wet against the scabbard, determined to capture and kill the ghoul before it did any harm. We’d heard about them circling the fae sanctuaries, but I hadn’t expected to see one down here. Harper’s voice made me stop. “Don’t! Caspian, leave him alone. It’s Herbert!”

  In a second, Phoenix’s words rang in my head, reminding me that Herbert was a friend, not a foe. Herbert was the one responsible for Harper’s return. I put my sword away and my hands out in a peaceful gesture, staring at the slightly shimmering figure. It revealed itself, drawing a gasp from Fiona, who instinctively tightened her hold on little Sophia.

  Harper pushed herself into a standing position inside the pool.

  “Sorry, Herbert,” I said. “Forgive my reaction.”

  The ghoul straightened its hunched back, becoming significantly taller than me. It blinked several times, watching me curiously, while I took a few seconds to wrap my head around its appearance. I’d never seen a ghoul before, except in various illustrations in GASP manuals.

  “How are you feeling?” Herbert asked Harper.

  “What is he saying?” Fiona asked. “I know he’s saying something. It’s that whispery language of theirs.”

  “What do you mean? Don’t you understand him?” I replied, not immediately realizing that Harper and I were the only ones who could make out what he was saying. Fiona gave me a confused look.

  Harper smiled. “You’re a sentry, Caspian,” she said. “Well, a Mara-sentry. And Herbert chose to let you hear him, like he lets me. Everyone else will hear their whispered words, unable to make sense of what they’re saying,” she said and looked at Herbert. “I’m good. A little cold, but I’ll be okay. Thank you, Herbert.”

  The ghoul nodded slowly. Zane took a moment to reach out to Phoenix through his earpiece, letting him know that Harper was back and awake. A second later, Herbert purred like a giant cat, lighting up from the inside. His veins glowed white as he smiled, revealing his long fangs.

  “The spell… Ibrahim released me,” he said, as the shine faded within. “I am free.”

  “You’ve earned it,” Harper replied. “I wouldn’t be here without your help.”

  “I’m sorry the same might not be said for your Hermessi friend.” He sighed, his shoulders dropping.

  I didn’t follow. “What do you mean?”

  Harper told us what happened, from the moment she and Ramin made it to Yahwen, to their temporary reunion on Neraka’s moon. It pained me to hear that he’d been attacked by his Hermessi brethren. That was an ally lost, and a powerful one, too. However, glancing around at the wall torches in this pool chamber alone, I could tell that Ramin wasn’t dead.

  “But the fires are still burning,” Fiona said. “Surely, we’d feel it if something happened to him, right?”

  “I suppose so, yes,” Harper replied.

  “There were many Hermessi coming at him,” Herbert told me. “Not just from Neraka. We could see them, coming off the stardust streams that flow by.”

  “It means Brendel was waiting for him,” I concluded. “But she didn’t kill him. So, either he somehow managed to escape or she captured him.”

  That brought on another question from Zane. “If she captured him, what would that be for? It’s not like she can reeducate him into working for the ritual. She literally took his son, and he still went in there and figured out where she’s keeping the children.”

  “Speaking of which,” Harper said, “I know where the twenty-planet solar system is. I know where Yahwen is, where they’re keeping the children. And the Hermessi have no idea.”

  That was, perhaps, the single most valuable piece of information about the Hermessi that we’d gathered so far. It opened up a throng of new possibilities, because it could also help draw Kabbah to our side. If he knew where his daughter was being kept, he’d be more likely to help us against his evil brethren. On top of that, it gave us two new missions to focus on—finding a way to get the Hermessi children out of there and figuring out whether there was a way to render that solar system useless for the Hermessi’s ritual.

  Herbert purred, blinking slowly. “This feels so nice and warm. It’s a shame I’ll have to leave this behind.”

  “What’s he saying?” Zane asked, frowning at the ghoul. Even though he’d helped Harper, the daemon king didn’t trust a soul-eater, and I understood why. After all, Zane had been raised to be a soul-eater, too, by his father, Shaytan. Until not that long ago, Neraka had been a cesspool of living, breathing ghouls, in a way. They didn’t have subtle forms or ghastly appearances, but they consumed the spirits of innocent people.

  There was never anything truly good about creatures who fed on something so pure, in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but agree. My people, the Exiled Maras, had done the same.

  “He likes it here,” I said. “But he knows he can’t stay.”

  “What will you do next?” Harper asked the ghoul.

  “I don’t know. I suppose I’ll enjoy my freedom for as long as I can. I promised Ibrahim I’d stick to eating corpses, so maybe I’ll find myself a cemetery somewhere to live in,” Herbert replied.

  “What about souls?” I asked.

  “I’m a creature of habit and of my word,” Herbert shot back, slightly offended. He glanced at Harper. “But you, darling, your soul smells incredible. I’m still amazed I was able to control myself as well as I did. Then again, freedom is far more scrumptious than one indulgence. However, going forward, I’d advise you not to get yourself killed. I’ll know it, straightaway, and I will come for you.”

  The thought of that happening chilled both Harper and me to the bone. I moved closer to her, while she kept her position in the pool, hot spring water bubbling around her. She gave Herbert a wary smile. “But I’d have a Reaper making sure I move on.”

  “Don’t underestimate a ghoul who’s set his sights on a particular soul. I may be savage, Harper… but I do know how to get what I want,” Herbert replied dryly.

  Despite the menacing significance of his words, I couldn’t help but smile, ever so slightly. The ghoul was simply telling Harper to stay alive, using the threat of his ravenous appetite to deter her from leaving this world before her time. After having sheltered her soul inside him, I figured he knew Harper almost as well as I did. He was aware of how daring and sometimes even reckless she could be, especially when it came to protecting the people she loved. Harper was still the “cool cucumber” of her crew, but there was a vulnerability: she couldn’t stand watching her loved ones suffer.

  So, yes, I appreciated Herbert’s warning. It came at a most auspicious time, given these new developments.

  “You, on the other hand, and your friends… you have your work cut out for you,” Herbert said to me. “Death’s scythe is a mighty precious tool.”

  I nodded, still adjusting to the entire concept of Thieron. Death’s most precious tool was missing, and I couldn’t even begin to fathom the implications. Having this understanding of why Death had not been able to intervene until now did, at least, help clear up some things—it did answer our most burning question.

  “Our friends are on Mortis now,” I said. “They’re about to find Death and talk to her.”

  Herbert shuddered and took a few steps back. He clicked his black tongue. “I doubt that will end well for them.”

  “What’s he saying now?” Zane asked, still frowning. “Does he know something more than what he’s told Ibrahim or Harper?”

  The ghoul
shook his head. “I’m afraid not. I just know not to piss off Death. The only reason why ghouls exist to this day is because she doesn’t have Thieron anymore. We stay off the radar, though… I’m hoping that, if she gets Thieron back, she won’t bother with us.”

  “Well, she hasn’t sent Reapers out to hunt you,” Harper replied. “Maybe you simply aren’t at the top of her priority list. Maybe she has allowed you to live because she wants to see how you evolve… or, I guess, devolve.”

  “Perhaps. Either way, if your friends are already so close to her, I’d best bid my farewell now and go as far away from here as possible,” Herbert said. “It has been a pleasure, darling. And remember my warning. Do not die, or I will cross the vast fabric of space to come eat your soul myself, and no Reaper will stand in my way.”

  She grinned. “I know that’s a lie, but I do appreciate your concern. It’s heartwarming. Thank you, Herbert. I wouldn’t be alive if it weren’t for you…” She gasped. “Oh, Herbert, wait! Back on Neraka’s moon, you said you’d tell me. The original ghouls hunting us, they used a swamp witch spell on you,” she added and looked at Zane, Fiona, and me. “The main ghoul, Kill. He said something like ‘Revellis,’ I think, and he tapped Herbert and made him visible, forcibly keeping him in his physical form for a few minutes. Enough to almost catch us.”

  “Swamp witch magic?” I asked, quite confused. “Since when do original ghouls fumble with swamp witch magic?”

  Zane raised an eyebrow. “Well, it’s the kind of mojo that can be used by anyone who knows the right formulas and words.”

  “A long time ago, some of the ancient swamp witches—a few of the very first of their kind—made it into the Supernatural Dimension,” Herbert explained to Harper and me. “I do remember Kill mentioning he’d stuck around when one of them died while trying to cross over. At the time, the swamp witches had the knowledge and the strength to open their own portals, but that was tens of thousands of years ago. Anyway, long story short, Kill snagged her soul right after she died, while his crew distracted the Reaper in charge of taking her away. They held on to her for years, tormenting her for spells and information. I believe Revellis was one of the main takeaways from that experience.”

  Harper relayed Herbert’s account to Fiona and Zane, prompting the daemon king to ask his follow-up question. “So, what does Revellis do, specifically? How did the swamp witch know about it, and what happened to her soul?”

  Herbert sighed. “Revellis was something only that particular witch knew, from what Kill told me. She’d dealt with his kind before, prior to her death, and the Word had helped her. Revellis is a contact spell; it reveals ghouls in their subtle form. It’s quite precious and rare. Kill and his crew haven’t shared it with anyone else. As for her soul, I’m afraid it kept Kill and his gang quite sated for about five centuries.”

  The thought gave me the chills, but I had to admit I was pretty grateful for the information. “So, all I need to do is whisper ‘Revellis’ and tap the ghoul in its subtle form for him to be unable to hide himself over the course of a few minutes, huh?”

  Herbert nodded. “Pretty much, yes. Therein lies the challenge, of course. You have to be extremely careful and mind the subtlest changes in the air. A sentry’s True Sight might not help, because it only reveals the hidden physical things. Ghouls move between dimensions, hence their normally unbreakable invisibility. But, I must say, knowledge of this spell does come in handy in dire times. Now, I believe it’s time for me to move along.” The ghoul measured me from head to toe, grinning and flashing his sharp canines. “You ought to be careful, sir. Troubled times are ahead.”

  Without waiting for a response, Herbert shimmered and disappeared. I shivered, overwhelmed by ice-cold chills, despite the heat coming from the pool. That had not been a simple farewell, but more like a warning. I had a feeling Herbert knew more than he’d said, but Ibrahim had freed him, and we didn’t have the time or the knowledge required to capture and force him into telling us more. Ghouls were exceptionally elusive, not to mention dangerous, and we had much bigger fish to fry.

  Silence settled across the room, with only the sound of rushing hot spring water left. Harper exhaled, looking at me. “We need to tell Taeral and the others about the scythe and Revellis. Chances are the spell might work on Reapers, too. They tread between worlds, as well, just like ghouls.”

  I only wondered how they’d be able to use that information about Thieron to get Death to cooperate. Could they, perhaps, offer to find it? Where would they even start the search? Obviously, Brendel didn’t just leave that thing lying around, since it was missing. Even so, it had to be done, I thought. Finding Thieron and returning it to Death seemed like the only viable option—if she accepted our offer to help, instead of sending Taeral and his team away or, worse, killing them.

  Death was unpredictable and unknown to us. We had to consider all possible scenarios, and, I had to admit, that scared me the most.

  A bright flash startled us all. The torches on the wall burst, suddenly, their flames swelling and taking on a bluish hue. I held my breath, watching the fires dim. The pool room succumbed to semi-darkness, as mere flickers were left to burn, the fires weakened and reduced.

  Fiona sucked in a breath. “This is exactly like what Taeral described on Cerix when they killed Brann…”

  “Oh, no…” Harper murmured, pain flowing through her like a river of pins and needles. I felt it all on top of my own, as the worst thing that could happen to Neraka… happened.

  “Ramin may very well be dead now,” Zane said, his voice shaky.

  We knew there was a replacement Hermessi for him—his son—but he was an ally of Brendel. He was hostile and, together with the others, we’d be dealing with four hostile Hermessi on Neraka. Up until now, fire had been our friend. As grief swelled inside us all, burning bright and red against the weakened torch lights, I understood the exact amount of trouble we were in.

  Neraka was no longer safe for GASP. The Hermessi were gaining power, and they were beginning to show hostility to others besides Taeral and his crew. We’d seen it with Mount Agrith and Calliope, for example. It was only a matter of time before something happened here, as well.

  I felt sorry for Ramin. He’d gone down fighting for what he believed in, yes. But he was gone. And the Nerakians were left to fend for themselves.

  Ben

  River stood by my crystal casing, watching me.

  She’d been here for the better part of an hour, and I couldn’t get enough of her. Having been like this before, in this state of seeing her but being unable to touch her, I couldn’t shake the feeling of déjà vu. This time, however, I was determined not to let such a fickle thing as my impending death stop me. I’d cheated the end before, and I would find a way to do it again, no matter what Kelara told me.

  My Reaper was on the other side of the casing, watching us both. She didn’t seem pleased to see us tormented like this. I knew that, beneath that cold and sometimes cruel façade of hers, Kelara still had empathy for creatures like me, for the people she was in charge of reaping.

  “I feel like we’ve been through this before,” River murmured, talking to me. “Only, it’s a little worse. But it’s nothing you and I can’t handle, right?”

  “Of course,” I said, knowing she couldn’t hear me. I didn’t care, though. These things needed to be said, especially to the woman I loved more than anything in the world.

  “I do hope you can at least hear me,” River continued, between deep and tormented breaths.

  “I can, honey. I can hear you.”

  Glancing around, I saw Lawrence next to Grace’s casing. To his right, Vita and Caia both slept, also isolated and surrounded by charmed crystal. The sight of them hurt me the most. I could handle myself in this situation, I could focus on what I might be able to do to get myself out of this mess—but seeing our daughter and our granddaughters like this made it extremely difficult to concentrate.

  “It isn’t fair,” I said to
Kelara. “You could at least show their spirits to me.”

  By now, I’d learned that they were like me, tethered to their bodies by glowing life-chains whose links blackened, one at a time, as the Hermessi’s influence grew and more fae fell under it. We were headed for the four million mark, from what River had said earlier. Five million was even closer than before…

  Grace, Caia, Vita, and all the other fae in the sanctuaries had Reapers by their side, as I had Kelara. But these agents of Death kept us from each other, forcing us into this isolation that just made everything worse.

  “It’s for your own good,” Kelara replied. “Frankly, I don’t like it, either. But we can’t have spirits fraternizing in this place. It would lead to an uncontrollable mess.”

  “Why, because you’re prohibited from forcing us to do anything against our will?” I shot back.

  I’d understood that aspect of a Reaper’s job, too. They couldn’t compel us to do or say anything. They even had to basically convince us to move on, so they could reap us—granted, that almost always happened. It was inevitable, once the body was dead. In our case, however, natural death had yet to occur, and even if it did, it wouldn’t be exactly natural, per se. None of this was. The Hermessi were working against the very thing they were meant to preserve and protect, by killing us all, and Kelara was aware. But she didn’t seem to have a say in it. She was just here to do her job.

  “Because it’ll make moving on even harder for you,” Kelara said firmly. “We’ve had this conversation before, Ben. Don’t make me say things that hurt you again. I told you, I don’t like it any more than you do.”

  “But she’s my daughter.” I sighed, my voice breaking as I pointed at Grace. Lawrence was in tears, whispering something to her, and I couldn’t even see her, let alone hold her. “I just want to reassure her that everything will be okay, eventually.”