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Authors: Freda Warrington

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BOOK: The Dark Arts of Blood
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HOUSE OF FLOWERS

T
wo days later, Karl and Violette and Kurgara found their way to Bayt-al-Zuhur.

Too exhausted to enter the Crystal Ring – and too wary of using the bone-knives to rest – they’d simply walked.

Violette told him that she and her companion had travelled all the way from the Bone Well on foot. She said very little about what had happened there, and Kurgara had barely spoken at all. In turn, Karl had no energy to explain about Godric Reiniger. They simply trekked in weary, comfortable silence until they reached their destination.

He came to love the mesmeric allure of the mountainous desert with its ever-changing palette of light and colour. Crimson and amber melted to plum and violet. There was not another soul for miles… Even his blood-thirst subsided, at least for this dream-like journey.

The house of vampires, Bayt-al-Zuhur, broke his trance-state with a burst of colour and light.

The high featureless walls that surrounded the
riad
gave nothing away. A small side-gate swung open to admit them and Karl found himself in another world, a glorious courtyard garden with foliage veiling the galleries and shuttered rooms beyond. Everything seemed veiled and secret. Fountains cooled the air.

Violette greeted a robed man, addressing him as Nabil, and a mild argument ensued. Karl gathered that Nabil had gone ahead through the Crystal Ring and offered to drive back in a truck to collect them. He was unhappy that she and Kurgara had turned down the offer.

They had actually
wanted
to make the slow journey alone and on foot. It was the start of Kurgara’s healing, Violette insisted.

Later, Karl came to understand what she meant, but now he barely registered their exchange. As soon as he stepped inside, the presence of at least thirty vampires shivered through the ether. Some were bright and vivid, others muted. What was the mood here?

He sensed passion, jealousy, blood-hunger, satiation, calm content… all those emotions leapt out at him, a shocking cacophony after hours of silence. The
collective
mood was a different matter. It was subdued. Soporific, calm… drugged, almost, as if they were humans dreaming in an opium den.

So many vampires, all living in secret here? They pierced themselves with
Istilqa
knives to evade the torment of being always awake… but how would they react if the blades lost their potency? That might not happen for many years, but eventually it would.

They will have to adapt.
During their trek, he’d heard Violette say the same to Kurgara, more than once.

Vampires gathered around the new arrivals. Some were in simple robes, others in more elaborate garb, dripping with gold and beads and amulets. Karl sensed no hostility, only confusion. No one seemed to understand what was happening, and they were making quite a clamour about it.

But where was Charlotte?

“Don’t crowd him,” said Violette, keeping a protective hand on Kurgara’s arm. He looked uneasy: his feminine face was blank but his dark eyes gleamed with alarm. “Everything will be explained. Please, allow him some space! Nabil, is there somewhere we can take him, a room where he’ll have peace and quiet? Where’s Fadiya?”

Karl stepped away from the tumult.

The sinking sun gleamed through leaves and flowers. The garden around him was breath-taking, almost too lush. The scents alone seduced him. Jasmine and citrus and spice, sandalwood and resin… he blocked out all distractions, searching for the only presence that mattered.

“Oh!” Charlotte ran straight into him as he turned round. “How did you—?”

He wrapped his arms around her, felt the heat of her body, kissed her rosy cheeks and lips. Her hair tumbled over his hands. Her gorgeous sun-warmed scent was unique. How could he possibly have mistaken an impostor for her real self, for even a second?

Silently he cursed Reiniger’s deceit. There was only one Charlotte, as wild as a gypsy, all sweet bronze and golden warmth.

“It really is you,” he murmured against her throat. “God, Charlotte…”

“Yes, it’s me. What’s happened? Karl, are you all right?”

“I will be. I think we both have stories to tell. Now we’re both full of so much
Istilqa
poison that we can’t possibly harm each other. And we’ll cleanse it away with pure blood. It doesn’t matter any more. We’ll live.”

“I can hardly smell or taste it now,” she said, caught between smiling and sobbing. “Or it’s no worse than hot pepper. As with humans: if
everyone
eats garlic, no one notices. And we’ll drink sweet fresh blood, and be ourselves again. Karl, thank God, I daren’t think about it but I really thought I might never see you again.”

“I’m here.” They stood there entwined hard against each other, exchanging kisses, lost in sheer relief.

“I must speak to Violette,” Charlotte said at last. “I’ve been so afraid for her, I was on the point of going back to that awful place. How did you find her?”

He explained, as briefly as he could.

“Her appearance is shocking, but she survived,” said Karl. “She’ll recover. You can talk to her later.”

“No, it’s got to be now.” Charlotte drew back, her hands resting on his upper arms. She looked sombre and worried. “I’ve some dreadful news and I’d rather she heard it from me. Emil’s gone missing.”

* * *

Violette had finally extricated herself from the throng. They found her alone, seated in the shadows of a pillared walkway that edged the Lemon Garden. Her silver-grey silk dress was torn, patched with sand and apparently soaked through with watery blood, now dry. Blood and sand plastered her bare arms and face, and her hair hung like tangled string.

Charlotte wanted to embrace her, but she held back. It wasn’t easy, after all, just to blurt out the news that Emil had run away. She felt she’d let Violette down.

Violette greeted her and Karl with the merest tilt of her head. She appeared composed but utterly weary. They sat down on either side of her.

“Why are you covered in blood?” asked Charlotte.

She plucked at the pinkish, ruined fabric. “This is what happens when you enter a furnace so hot that you sweat your own blood. Think of the underground lair you found at Parkland Hall, where the ghosts were so hungry they could freeze a vampire to death. It was like that, but with fire instead of ice.”

“Dear, is there anything we can do?”

“Oh, I’ll be well again soon. I survived. Thank you, but I’m just… shaken.”

“What happened?”

“I met myself.” She smiled. “Not literally. I mean I met another vampire who’d absorbed an archetype from Raqia and lived it to the extreme. And I don’t know if I’ve saved or destroyed him. Lord Zruvan: he was a youth beneath the terrifying disguise, an innocent. His other name is Kurgara, an individual who is both male and female. He can’t or won’t tell me his birth name. The community here lives under his protection, but he has no idea if they’ll still accept him now he’s not Zruvan any longer. That’s why I asked Nabil to take him somewhere quiet. He needs solitude, and time to reflect, rather than dozens of people clamouring around him. I understand that need.”

Karl began to ask a question, but she raised a hand to stop him. “I’ll tell you later. You can tell me about Godric Reiniger, too. I’m tired enough to avail myself of a long
Istilqa
sleep.”

“No,” Charlotte said firmly. “We need blood, not narcotics.”

“I was joking. A very poor joke, admittedly. Is Fadiya here?”

“Ah… yes.”

Charlotte was hesitant, trying to break the news gently, but Violette sat bolt upright. “What? Something’s happened. Tell me!”

Violette leaned forward on the stone seat and pressed her fingertips into the edge as Charlotte did her best to explain.

“I truly didn’t think he’d have the energy to leave after what he’s been through. We arrived three nights ago – I don’t know what Fadiya said to Emil, but he simply disappeared.”

“How long was he gone before anyone noticed?”

“Hours. I went to his room to make sure he’d settled in…” Charlotte waved vaguely at one of the upper galleries. “He told me to leave him alone, so I did. Later, Fadiya went to see him – she said that he threw her out, too. So we left him in peace. We thought he was sleeping. I went out to hunt – I was so close to coming back to find you—”

“That wasn’t what I asked you to do.” Violette dug her nails into Charlotte’s forearm.

“I know, which is why I stayed here. I planned to take him on the ferry to France and back to Lucerne. But when Fadiya took his breakfast to his room… He’d gone.”

“How did he escape with no one noticing?” Violette’s eyes were wide and stone cold.

“This isn’t a prison. The outer doors are locked, but they have keys on the inside. And I… I didn’t think there was any need to watch him. I’m so sorry. It was my misjudgement.”

“Then why didn’t you try to find him?”

“We did! There were rumours he’d headed down to the port to sail back to Europe. Fadiya and I searched the town without luck. We think he took a ferry within an hour of leaving, and that’s nearly three days ago.”

“And you didn’t try to follow through the Crystal Ring?”

“I couldn’t,” Charlotte said, her tone hardening. “I had to make a choice and, to be frank, I was more concerned about your welfare than Emil’s.
You
were the one in greater danger.”

“But I asked you to look after
him
.”

They glared into each other’s eyes.

“Arguing isn’t going to help,” Karl put in. “Do you really blame Emil for wanting to escape, after what he’s been through? Here he was, surrounded by vampires, no doubt frightened for his life. It would be more surprising if he
hadn’t
fled.”

Violette broke her death-stare with Charlotte and rested back against the tiled wall. “You have a point. He’s not a vampire, but he’s not a child, either. He’s a man with his own stubborn ideas and I should have anticipated this.” She groaned. “All this effort to rescue him – and where’s he gone? Back to the family farm? Idiot!”

“He must have had his reasons,” Karl said calmly. “You know the effect we have on humans. An unholy assault of terror and madness. Think how afraid he must have been. Shell-shocked, if you like. His instinct to escape to the human world is natural.”

Violette took a slow breath in and out. “How was his state of mind?”

“Not good,” said Charlotte. “He barely spoke on the journey back. He called Fadiya and me ‘witches’ even while we were rescuing him.”

“Do you think he might harm himself?”

“Attempt suicide, you mean?”

“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean,” Violette said thinly.

“He could have done that here, without bothering to board ship.”

“But he may have planned to throw himself
off
the ship,” Violette retorted. “Vanishing at sea? A perfect way to end his torment and punish us.”

“And pure speculation,” said Karl. “He’s three days ahead of us. He may well be in France or Italy by now.”

“So rather than think the worst, we’ll start looking for him,” said Charlotte. “Now.”

“I wish you had started sooner, and tried harder,” said Violette.

“And leave here, not knowing if you were alive or dead?” Charlotte turned fiercely on her. “Force me to make a choice and I will always choose
you
. And if you say one more word to me about Emil, I’ll find him for certain. I’ll drain every last drop out of his veins!”

Violette was taken aback. She sighed.

“Charlotte, forgive me. I deserve your harsh words, I know, but
please
. We have to find him before he does something even more insane than running away with Fadiya.”

“We’ll all go,” said Charlotte. “But Violette, please change out of that dress, or at least put a robe over it.”

“I don’t care how I look. I only care about Emil. We’ll split up, agreed? Better chance of finding him that way. You two go ahead. I need to speak with Fadiya, then I’ll follow. Hunt and regain your strength to enter the Crystal Ring, but
go
.”

With that, Violette rose and strode to the stairs that led to the upper level.

“I expect he headed for Tuscany,” said Charlotte, alone with Karl. “It would make sense for him to go home, to see his family before… No, I refuse to entertain the idea that he would kill himself. Before he decides what to do next.”

“I’m worried about Stefan too,” Karl said, stroking her shoulder. “One of us should go straight back to Lucerne. He shouldn’t be left on his own.”

“Well, I care more about Stefan than I do about Emil,” she said. “But I let Emil vanish, so I feel responsible…”

“We
both
care more about Stefan,” said Karl.

“That’s true, but Emil still matters. You go back, I’ll search.”

“No, I don’t want to abandon you to the task,” said Karl. “We should both go home, then look for Emil later.”

“It may be too late by then.”

“Haven’t you already done enough for him and Violette?”

“No, I can’t place a limit on it. We’re helping no one by arguing.” She took both his hands. “A compromise? I’ll go straight to Stefan, on condition that you make a thorough search for Emil. Agreed?”

Karl nodded, looking grim. “And I’ll find the wretch before the night’s out, believe me.”

* * *

Nabil and another vampire were guarding the door to Kurgara’s room. Fadiya stood further along the gallery, leaning against the rail and staring at a shuttered window as if there were a dangerous animal inside.

“Why don’t you go in?” said Violette.

“I don’t know him.” Fadiya, dressed in a clean djellaba, folded her arms and refused to meet her eyes. “You say this is Lord Zruvan, but this Kurgara… I can’t believe they are the same person.”

“By your own admission, you’ve never seen his face before today.”

“I still haven’t seen him. When you arrived, I didn’t look at him. It’s wrong. This cannot be him.”

“It is him,” said Violette. “And you know it, if you have any vampire instincts at all. Can’t you sense that he’s the same? Would you recognise the softness of his lips, at least? Are you afraid of what you’ll find?”

BOOK: The Dark Arts of Blood
9.28Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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