Loyalty

by Charles E Yallowitz

  “But you gave me an odd number of red ones,” Bob whines, an illusionary veil of black lace over his face. Seeing that nobody is going to defend him, the vampire sighs and dumps the rest of the sack onto the grave. “Why do we keep talking and wasting time? If Mab is on the run then she goes to Clyde. If he’s on the run then there’s only one place he would go. Personally, I’d go to Yagervan where they have the most beautiful horses. One of these days, I’m going to find the perfect one and vampirize it to be my eternal mount. Enough about me though, I say we go see that old guy.”

  The four men stand silently and stare at their feet, none of them wanting to admit that they are a little nervous about the trip. Having had little contact with Gregorio in the past, they can only remember the stories that Clyde would tell them. The ones depicting the gnome as a ravenous and destructive force do not come to mind, but they do recall several tales of the inventor’s experiments. All of them shudder in unison and imagine the older vampire’s lair, which they have never been brave enough to enter. The closest any of them have come is the front door before any heists that required Clyde visit his maker for advice or a tool. Looking up, the friends can see their nervousness mirrored in each other’s eyes, which causes them to chuckle.

  “Guess the thought of facing a vampire that old still makes us think like fresh turns,” Titus says before leaning against the castle wall. Staring at the horizon, he sees a sliver of sunlight and signals for everyone to put on their night cloaks. “If all of us disappear then Xavier is going to get worried. Even worse, he could become suspicious of the entire gang. Think you can go back to Nyte and tell him I’m following a lead, Decker? I’ll take Bob and Luther as back up if that will help put him at ease.”

  “Was really hoping to see this through to the end,” the dwarf admits, his ebony beard becoming a little thicker. His disappointment fades away when he takes a drink, the blood mixed with his favorite alcohol. “You know, it hurts when you treat me like an outsider. While I was never a thief, I still worked with all of you. Clyde accepted me as part of the gang and I pledged my loyalty to him just like I did when I became Lord Tempest’s child. Sorry to sound like I’m whining, but this teasing has become fairly tiresome.”

  “I would agree, but it’s always fun to get a rise out of you,” the taller vampire states with a friendly smile. He frowns when Decker walks away without returning the gesture, the broad-shouldered soldier eventually diving into the earth to burrow back to Nyte. “Think I pushed him too far this time. You mentioned he was having trouble with Clyde’s return, Luther, and I didn’t believe you. That makes this next request even tougher. I promise to make things up to all of you once this is done.”

  “This is about what we discussed in private, right?” the forest tracker asks with a sigh. He pulls his hood over his head and gradually fades from view until he is nothing more than the outline of a face. “I will try my best, but our targets have impressive wards and are always on the lookout for spies. Kai has lost many agents attempting this, so be prepared to never see me again, my friends. I’ll contact you every six hours with a simple notification that I’m alive. Assume I’m dead if you don’t get that.”

  Bob raises his hand for attention and waits until his friends nod in his direction. “I thought you said this would be easy since you’re going to disguise yourself as a raven. The council has those birds around their castles all the times. You told me that they would never suspect you since you’re stealing the spirit of one. Is that a bad plan now?”

  “No, Bob, but I was hoping to milk a few free meals out of our taskmaster of a leader.”

  “Oh, then forget everything I just said.”

  “I try that every day, my friend.”

  *****

  Regardless of the earlier warning, Gregorio cannot hide his look of awe when Mab steps into a shadow and disappears. It is not the act, but how naturally she does it without any signs of casting what should be a complicated spell. When she returns and takes an apple out of her pocket, the gnome is already sure of where the demonstration is going. Shooting an accusatory glance at Clyde, the older vampire gets off his mushroom-rimmed chair and beckons for Mab to come closer. With as much tenderness as he can muster, Gregorio opens her mouth to make sure she is not pocketing the food like a chipmunk. The vivid color of her tongue catches his attention and he slides his hand to her neck to check her pulse. Knowing the risk, the gnome runs his fingers along her body to poke and prod at her organs with needle-like nails. He jumps back when he gets to her toes and she wiggles from the ticklish sensation, her feet sinking into her shadow until she regains control of her powers.

  “I was wondering if you could make other special vampires, but I didn’t expect you to do anything like this,” Gregorio says while returning to his chair. The wooden legs clop against the stone floor to bring him to the table where he has been working with Clyde’s blood. “She’s just like you, but I can tell she isn’t as strong. Probably has you beat or is at least your equal when it comes to speed and agility considering her build. There’s also a dimness to her scent in terms of potency. Kind of like you’re a raging bonfire and she’s a blazing log near the edge. I’ll need to run tests on both of you to understand the differences, but the infected are rarely identical to the carrier. First, would one of you tell me how this happened?”

  “Entirely my fault,” Mab admits, bowing her head. Putting her shoes back on, the burglar perches on the edge of a table and gently swings her legs. “We were going after Lord Shallis and the Duragians showed up. I was badly injured and Clyde was busy fighting them . . . in the sunlight at full strength. When there was a lull in the battle, I remembered he had a working heart and lost control. Best way to describe it is that a great hunger came over me and I pounced on his back. Probably drank about three mugs worth before he pried me off. His blood made me feel so powerful and I ripped my damaged skin off like it was a natural act of regeneration. After that there was a lot of pain, falling into this shadowy world of monsters, and I may have let these new powers go to my head. Speaking of which, I keep hearing voices.”

  Clyde seems to come out of a trance at her final sentence and clears his throat. “You never mentioned that. What kind of voices are we talking about?”

  “They’re faint and most only want to chat, so I ignore them,” she replies with a shrug. Lines of pressure run through her gut and she looks down to find that Gregorio has opened her stomach for a peek. “Ask permission first! It doesn’t hurt much, but I’d like a little warning. Please be quick because feeling a breeze on my innards is really uncomfortable now that they work. Do you think we can still be killed?”

  “Yes, but it could take more effort than it used to,” Gregorio answers while he pushes the wounds closed. Wandering over to Clyde, he waits for the man to undress before creating a hole to observe his lungs. “You have been a mystery to me for over a month, son. Most of your organs work, but you’re still a vampire. Had a feeling you would be immune to sunlight to some extent, but not fully. The only explanation I have is that the Great Cataclysm’s effect on magic hit at the exact moment the Duragian priests were finishing the execution. Their spells transformed you into a new breed that is physically stronger and possesses unique magical abilities. Both of you stated there was something was odd about your magic, which means it’s time for a test. I would like both of you to stand over there and attempt a spell that the other typically does. Clyde will try to grow claws and I want Mab to attempt invisibility. No cheating either. This isn’t a test where you’ll get in trouble for failing.”

  The pair move to opposite ends of a table and stretch as if they are about to run a marathon instead of use their magic. It takes a minute for Clyde to remember the motions and words to extend his fingernails into natural blades, but nothing happens. Thinking he got it wrong, he sits on a stool and goes through the gestures in his head. The next attempt is another failure, so he casually pulls out one of his nails to examine closely. Putting it back in place,
Clyde rubs his eyes and tries to mentally will the claws into being like he does with his illusions. He stops when Mab abruptly jumps on the table and makes ridiculous faces at him. She gets inches from his nose and waggles her tongue until he catches the crimson organ. Neither one is willing to back down from the odd staring contest, the simple test no longer on their minds.

  “I think we’ve done enough,” Gregorio whispers while separating the two. Growing his own claws, he cuts both of his guests in order to get some of their blood on the sharp nails. “All of my experiments showed that Clyde’s aura is potent, but limited. Judging by this test, I believe it can power your incredible strength with the help of ingesting blood and regular food, but spells are a problem. My current theory is that you have a handful of abilities related to your natural preferences. Mab always stuck to the shadows and fought with claws more often than forged weapons, which is why she can do both naturally instead of through casting. The trade-off for such proficiency and power is that you cannot use actual magic.”

  “Well, it hasn’t given me a problem yet,” Clyde claims as he takes his gauntlet sword out of his pocket. Placing it on the table, he pushes it away and puts up his hands. “That thing and I don’t mix very well. Maybe it’s because you built it to work off vampire blood and mine doesn’t register as the right type. I mean, it works, but drains me to the point where I only have vague memories of what happens near the end of the battle. Mab has seen it a few times and says it’s like I’m fighting against the thing while massacring everything within reach. I’d prefer to leave it with you until-”

  The gnome waves his hand to roll the weapon into the other vampire’s lap. “Sorry, but I have no use for it. Figure it out or destroy it. You asked for that weapon and I altered it enough to work with your changes. I’ll make more adjustments if you ask nicely and bring me a snack, but I won’t touch it because you’re becoming spineless. Besides, I’m doing enough by keeping your secret and not holding you here for experiments.”

  “Mab could stay here for a bit while I go back to Nyte.”

  “Sorry, but I would prefer to have both the original and the new one for comparison.”

  “That would make Xavier and Nadia suspicious.”

  “I agree, which is why I must consider another path. Excuse me.”

  Gregorio bows to his guests and takes on a ghostly form in order to walk through the furniture. Clyde and Mab watch as the gnome goes into his bedroom and the door clicks behind him. They sit in silence and take in the macabre sights of the lab, which does nothing to ease their nerves. Unsure if they should leave or claim one of the dusty guest rooms, the vampires do whatever they can to avoid boredom. Mab wanders around to open every drawer and see if her claws can work as lock picks, their edges proving keen enough to slice through thin pieces of metal. She curses at the discovery and gives up on practicing since she prefers to do things the more traditional way. Clyde settles for pacing from one end of the room to the other, his path gradually taking him closer and closer to his maker’s room. The furrow on his brow becomes deep enough for Mab to see from far away, so she skips towards her distracted partner. Instead of following him, she sits on a table that is covered with bones, which have been tied together with silver threads.

  When both of them hear a faint growl from Gregorio’s room, they rush to smash through the door. The gnome is clutching his stomach and gasping for air, his dark-tinted glasses barely held in place by his sweat-dripping nose. His claws retract to become regular fingernails, two of which are still covered in the blood he took from his guests. With a deep breath, Gregorio stands up straight and grabs a nearby towel in order to wipe his face clean. Finally noticing the intrusion, he tries to cast a spell that would put his broken door back together, but nothing happens. He attempts other enchantments, but the only ones that work are various elemental charges that cover his hands like glowing gloves. Dispelling the compact wind on his fingers, the gnome approaches the other vampires and takes their hands to show them that he now has a pulse.

  “That’s very interesting,” he says to himself, his eyes turning a cloudy white for a brief instance. Letting go of his friends, Gregorio ushers them into his room and takes a seat on the bed. “Since I’m still here, we can finally say with certainty that Clyde’s blood does not make vampires mortal. I’m far too old to have become anything more than a pile of dust. It does seem that Mab’s blood can’t transform others, but I will do some more experiments to see if I can make others by fang. As likely as that is, there is the possibility that my son creates infertile vampires instead of those who can breed. Either way, it appears your . . . our kind can create new turns through blood and, I assume, bite.”

  “What were you thinking, old fang?” Clyde asks, his voice staying at a low hiss.

  “I am giving myself a subject to work with,” Gregorio casually answers. Spotting a bowl of fruit that he uses to freshen the stale air, he takes an orange and jams his fangs into it for a quick drink. “Ever since you returned to us, I’ve been wondering about the changes. Not only within you, but our entire world. Vampires are losing the war and then you come to us with such amazing power? The God of Destiny has always ignored our kind, but there is a first time for everything. You might not realize this because you’ve only been thinking in terms of battles and heists. The three of us now have the power to live in a mortal city without standing out or losing our strength. Do you not see the truth? You are ushering in a new breed of vampire that can do more than destroy enemies and remain in the shadows. I’ve lived for so long in the darkness that my eyes barely work, which makes me an authority on how terrible a life it can be. Perhaps I did this without a second thought because I’ve grown bored with my old ways and want to be part of a world that has grown without me. Do you have a name for what we are, my son?”

  “Dawn Fangs, which I meant to be an insult, but he liked it,” Mab replies as she takes a handful of grapes. Seeing the look on Gregorio’s face, she hands the fruit over and waits for him to give her a pomegranate. “So, you think Gabriel broke the Law of Influence to change Clyde into a vampiric savior? I have to disagree with most of that on principle, but it is strange that he came back so powerful at just the right time. Maybe it is only a coincidence considering other species have gone through rapid changes since the Great Cataclysm. You rarely see placids these days, but I’ve heard that those who remain have learned to survive far away from water. What do you think-”

  With a guttural snarl, Clyde storms out of the room and hurls the nearest table out of his path. Remembering where he is, the angry vampire goes around the other obstacles, but his friends can see that he is desperate to find something to destroy. Not wanting him to go too far by himself, Mab hurries after her partner and dives into a shadow in order to follow him without being seen. Left alone with his new abilities, Gregorio folds his legs beneath him and falls into a deep trance. Orbs of elemental power appear in his open hands while the faint image of a book hovers over his head. A crackle of amber light ripples around his body and threatens to wash over his lair, but he pulls the mysterious energy back. Satisfied with the results of his brief test, the gnome chuckles to himself and goes in search of his kitchen, which he has not used in centuries.

  *****

  “I am not some savior for our kind,” Clyde says when he hears Mab join him on a ledge above the camouflaged entrance. He notices that she continues climbing and looks up to see that the noise is coming from a mountain lion. “There was a time that animals would run from a creature like me, but now you come closer without a single care. Maybe I’m not as angry as I thought. Can’t believe I’m talking to a cat. Unless you’re around here somewhere and waiting for a sign that it’s safe to come out.”

  “Actually, I got in a tussle with this gaseous demon who refused to get out of my way,” Mab claims, emerging from the shadows behind her friend. Taking a seat next to him, she watches as the sun sinks and the forest below gradually darkens. “I’ve never seen you so shaken by
simple words. At least not since we were young and stupid. Is it really that bad to be considered a hero?”

  “Vampires don’t become heroes,” he snaps, remembering how many adventurers he has killed in his time. He creates an illusion of each one until there is a crowd hovering around the ledge, most of the figures nothing more than faceless warriors. “This is only an estimate, but it’s in the hundreds. We go into the thousands if we count overall mortal victims. Your hands aren’t any cleaner, so don’t try to debate me. All I want is to live my life and be with the gang. Not that I want the rest of our people to die, but they aren’t my concern.”

  “You don’t really mean that,” the burglar whispers as she takes off her jacket. A low hiss in her head causes her to sit upright and scratch deep in her ear, but she finds nothing to explain the noise. “The gang takes priority, but we can’t survive without other vampires. At the very least, we need Xavier and Nadia since the rest of the council has turned on them. If Nyte falls then so do we. It isn’t fair, but that’s what it is. Your power could be the turning point for this war. Once that’s over, you don’t have to lead anything.”

  “Gregorio had some good points though.”

  “He was also being dramatic as usual.”

  “There has to be a reason I’m like this.”

  “Of course, there is. It’s for you to survive.”

  “Bet the dead would disagree.”

  Cocking her head to the side, Mab closes her eyes and listens to the storm of voices that whip at her ears. Screams of rage and whispers for attention echo in her skull, which she fears is about to explode. The sensation of fingers running against the inside of her skin makes her shiver and grow her claws. She is about to rip open her head to find the source of the discomfort when all of the voices yell a warning for her to stop. Relaxing her muscles helps to ease the pressure and she groggily stands in order to turn in a circle. Following her instincts, Mab stops to stare at one of the illusions that is talking and gesturing while the others remain still. No audible words come out of the figure, who is moving against Clyde’s wishes. She nods several times and bows before all of the figures fade away, the residual mist rising towards the distant stars. Sweat suddenly flows down her face as she takes a seat, her limbs spasming to the point where she comes close to falling off the ledge.