The Geomancer (24 page)

When the pilgrims gathered in the center of the lower courtyard, Yidak came to greet them. One of the visitors fell prostrate on the ground before the Demon King. Yidak reached down and lifted the man to his feet, and they conversed. The vampire gestured toward the building where Adele had been granted quarters. She and Gareth and Anhalt stood in the open window watching. The pilgrim eyed them, then bowed to Yidak and walked toward Adele. He then bowed to her, speaking in some dialect she didn't understand.

Anhalt said, “Do you speak Hindi?”

The man nodded slowly. “Yes. A little. The Demon King bids us gift you several goats, which we happily do. We also have salt and milk as you need it. Is there any other service we can provide you?”

Through Anhalt, Adele said, “That's very kind. May I ask what relationship you have with the demons?”

He replied simply, “We feed them.”

“Why do you come all this way to let them drink your blood?”

The old pilgrim looked confused. “If we didn't come, they would come to us. And to others.”

“Why you?”

“Because someone must. And my father did. And my son will.”

“Do you not want your temple back?”

“Oh no. We were not meant to be here. This is a home meant for demons.” The pilgrim turned away, calling back over his shoulder. “We will prepare a goat, and bring it to you.”

Adele watched the old man stride back to his group and said to Anhalt, “I don't mind telling you, I'm starving. I could devour one of those goats raw.”

The general let the heavy rug fall over the window. “Amazing. I never thought I'd see such . . . commerce between humans and vampires. Other than traitorous interactions such as Lord Aden had with Cesare in return for cheap coal from the north.”

Adele returned to the fire, already anticipating a warm meal. “It's not terribly different from Gareth's relationship with his subjects in Edinburgh. But you're right, it's fascinating and heartening to see it work elsewhere.”

Gareth paced a dark corner of the room. “Lord Aden was driven by greed, and he was exploited by Cesare. The arrangement here is fueled by fear. Those pilgrims are afraid if they don't give their blood to Yidak's clan, they'll be killed for it. That's hardly a shining beacon of co-existence.”

Adele sighed in exasperation. “I don't know how to tell you, but even among humans, relationships are driven by greed and fear. I think this place is amazing. Aren't you stunned by Yidak and his monastery of vampires?”

“No.” Gareth tugged irritably on his gloves. “It's no different than how my kind lives everywhere. I'm sure they came here, killed the humans, and took their places. We've been doing it for centuries, but we've succeeded only in fooling ourselves. Humans still know we're savage monsters. We'll do well to find your Tear of Death and get away from this place.” He went for the door and slipped out into the cold.

Adele's shoulders sank and she put her hand to her suddenly aching forehead. She wasn't sure if he was wrong or not. Perhaps he was blinded by his own history. Or maybe she was goaded to optimism for the constant fear that there might be no future for the two of them. She sank to the floor, cold and hungry and dejected.

Anhalt also stepped to the door, but he merely leaned out and scooped up a handful of fresh snow. He packed it into the earthenware pot and set it on the fire.

“Is he right?” Adele mumbled. “Is there really no way for our species to connect? Am I being foolish?”

“I have no idea, Majesty.” The general shaved tea from a black brick. “I have known you to be foolish a few times in your life.”

She sighed loudly.

“But,” he continued, “I have never known you to be false, nor to pursue empty goals.”

Adele smiled up at her old friend and reached out to take his hand. General Anhalt bent at the waist and kissed her fingers. Together they quietly waited for the water to boil, their breath misting in the air.

C
HAPTER 23

Gareth stalked up the wide steps out of the central courtyard. Nearly twenty vampires, male and female, descended past him in an organized assembly. They all wore crimson robes, and bowed to him in a unified motion. One of them whistled sharply at the pilgrims gathered in the shelter of an alley. Several of the men instantly detached themselves from the group and came forward without obvious emotion. The blood red vampires opened their ranks to allow the men to enter, and then closed back around them. The orderly group climbed the steps again and went inside a temple. Soon they would begin to drink the blood of their guests.

Gareth rose into the air over the carved temple spires. Many vampire eyes watched him with interest. He spun away and plunged out over the edge of the plateau. He vanished into the vast mountain emptiness, leaving the monastery behind. Hanging in the sky, arms outstretched, he felt the terrible wind batter him.

Gareth fought to suppress a rage. It all seemed like nonsense. These lamasery vampires here in Tibet. Those rebels in Europe spouting his own chaotic choices back at him as if they had meaning. His attempt to write a book lauding the life story of a monster who had killed thousands of humans. And most of all, the Greyfriar, that childish spawn of his own mock humanity.

Even Adele frantically flailed for some proof that the future made sense. The problem was that it did make sense, just not the sense she wanted. Humans would exterminate the vampires. It would take time and blood, but it would happen. There was nothing to stop it. Vampires were on the wrong side of history.

Perhaps it would have been better if Adele had just let her power run amok from Edinburgh last year. Instead of merely eliminating the vampires from Britain and Scotland, she should have swept them from the whole Earth.

Gareth slammed against a wall of rock. He clawed desperately to keep from being scraped along the mountainside. Foolish, he cursed himself. He had lost attention and the wind had taken him. Recovering his density, he dropped heavily onto an outcrop below. He fell hard, tumbling in the dirt where he lay still and tried to silence his bloody thoughts.

Fading sunlight glistened off a strange finger of ice in front of him. A thin stream of water had found its way out of a mountain crevice and created a small pool on this rock ledge. It was all ice now. The tiny trickle of water had frozen solid in the endless act of weathering away the great Himalayas.

“Are you injured?”

Gareth leapt to his feet and spun around. Yidak stood calmly nearby with the wind ruffling his red and gold robes.

“You announced yourself to the mountain quite hard.” The old vampire gestured to the huge peak rising over them. “The wind can be unforgiving, even for those of us used to it.”

“I'm fine.”

“Good, good. You strike me as someone who's been hurt worse in your time.”

Gareth wanted to be alone. He craved only the roar of the wind in his ears. He crouched on the edge of the escarpment overlooking miles of empty air. He heard Yidak squat next to him. They hunched together, silent, like a pair of vultures waiting. Time passed. Gareth finally gave an annoyed huff.

Yidak asked eagerly, “Yes?”

“Don't you have a pilgrim to drain?”

The old vampire laughed loudly. “I fed. And we don't
drain
them. They all walk out of here quite well because we want them to come back. And you're free to use them. They count you as a demon too.”

“How fortunate for me.”

“Yes.” Yidak pursed his lips thoughtfully. “Demons are plentiful in Tibet and generally get what they want.”

“We're plentiful where I come from too.” Gareth paused with a crooked smile. “Well, we used to be.”

“What happened to them?”

Gareth considered springing into the air to escape the chatty Yidak, but instead said, “Adele happened. She killed every one of my clan, except for me.”

Yidak started to laugh, but instead narrowed his eyes in wonder. “Then what you said to me on your airship was true? She could kill me?”

“Yes. Easily.”

“Hm.” The Demon King turned to contemplate the purple and blue mountains with their small patches of snow glowing red in the last touches of the sun. “Why doesn't she then? Why doesn't she kill all of us?”

“I don't know.”

“Don't you?”

Gareth moved abruptly across the ledge to stare into the frozen pool at his feet. “Because of me.”

“Oh! She loves you. That is an old story.”

“If you say so.”

“Good, because I do.” The old vampire smoothed his robes. “But could she leave you alive while killing all of us?”

“Perhaps.”

Yidak nodded wisely. “I think there must be a reason other than just her love for you, another reason she doesn't kill all of us. What do you think it is?”

“Why don't you ask her?”

“Will she kill me for asking?”

Gareth shot him a callous glance. “Why don't you ask her?”

The old vampire smiled and idly rocked back and forth. “Tell me of your people, Gareth.”

“I told you, I have no people,” Gareth snarled. “They're all dead. What more do you need to know.”

“They weren't always dead. Where are you from?”

Gareth sighed and gave up trying to fight off the conversation. “The British Isles. Have you heard of them?”

“Of course,” Yidak said with a touch of sarcasm. “I haven't lived up here my entire life. Are you from London?”

“No. I was born in Scotland. That was my father's country.”

“Who was the chief of your clan when the last war began, the great war against the humans?”

“My father. He called himself Dmitri.”

“Was your father a good king?”

There was a long silence before Gareth sank to his knees beside the frozen pool. “I'm sick of talking about me.”

Yidak crossed the frozen dirt. He lifted a stone and tossed it onto the ice. It broke a small, jagged hole and fell into the dark water. The old vampire straightened. “What do you see?”

Gareth pressed a clenched hand to his head. “If you're pretending to be a wise man, you're failing.”

“There is something there to learn if you can.” Yidak gave a deep sigh at Gareth's lack of interest. “The monastery was built long ago by wise humans who wanted only to teach. By the time I came here after I left Samarkand when the vampires rose there, only one or two of the monks still remained. I enjoyed my talks with them, but they eventually grew old and died.”

Gareth looked up. “You came here to hide from the Great Killing?”

“
Hide
seems cowardly, but yes. The war seemed like a poor path. I wanted no part of it, but that wasn't an option if I had stayed with my people. So I came here to be away from it. I suspect you fought, didn't you?”

“I did.”

“Your father favored the war then?”

“No!” Gareth leapt to his feet. “He was against it, but he couldn't convince the other clan lords. They were all sure that we had to strike or we would be driven to extinction. So many of us believed it that my father began to doubt his own ideas, even though he was right. But he wouldn't run away from his people, no matter what.” Gareth glared intensely at the old vampire, waiting for a reaction, but Yidak seemed not to notice.

“Did you share your father's doubts about the war?”

“I was young and eager for blood.”

Yidak shrugged with acceptance. “So you fought well.”

“I did.” Gareth wasn't boasting. “I showed no mercy.”

“Do you hold me in disdain because I didn't fight?”

“No. I actually admire you,” he admitted grudgingly. “My father believed the same as you, but if he had done as you have, he might still be alive. He would certainly have lived the rest of his life with sanity.” Gareth noticed that the hole in the ice had already glazed over. “So all of your people here at the monastery refused to fight in the Great Killing?”

“No, not all. A few came with me at the beginning. Some came deeper into the war. Others have joined in the last century since the war ended.”

“What about Takeda?”

Yidak grinned with delight. “I thought he would interest you. He fought in the war, in Japan mostly. He quite enjoyed it. After the war, he continued to fight for many of the clans across central Asia, raiding the frontier, crushing attempts by the humans to gather themselves. He was even the war chief of the great clan of Chengdu for many years although he was a foreigner to them. He came here several decades ago.”

“Why?”

“Why don't you ask him?”

Gareth almost smiled, but managed to suppress it. “Does he just carry that sword as a trophy?”

“No. He wields it. He taught himself to fight with all manner of human tools. You should test him.”

Gareth eyed the old vampire, seeking some sign of lies or mockery. There appeared to be none. “Is he the only one?”

“No. Many of my monks use weapons, but none so fervently as Takeda. Most prefer fighting with their claws, as they have always done.”

“Then these praying monks of yours are actually a trained pack? You've formed your own clan. Do you raid human territories?”

“We do not. We fight only in defense. We have no interests outside this monastery. The clan lords do not understand we have no political ambitions, so they fear us. They come against us. And if they survive, they usually have no desire to return.” The old vampire stopped and tilted his wizened head, listening and scenting. “We should return to the monastery.”

“Is someone near?” Gareth tested the air too, but detected nothing.

“Perhaps. Something isn't right. With Takeda's story of a recent attack and my own recent adventure, it's best not to be caught out alone.”

Yidak prepared to rise from the escarpment, waiting for Gareth to join him. Gareth lightened, and the two were seized by the wind. They beat their way back toward the monastery.