The Key to Starveldt (8 page)

‘Here. Use this.’

It was Evan. He was offering a tall vase filled with roses. Solace stared blankly at him. Evan sighed, set the flowers aside on an ornate table and crouched before her, unusually serious. Dipping his hand in the water, he reached out and smoothed his wet thumb gently down her cheek, erasing a line of half-dried blood. His fingertips were cold to the touch. Solace shivered, scenting chlorophyll, copper, water. Evan didn’t flinch, but attended to her lip, nose, cheeks and ears with equanimity. As he wiped the last of the blood from the corner of her left eye, Solace felt the hairs on her neck stand up, belatedly conscious of the fact that not only was Evan touching her face, but that everyone was watching.

‘Thanks.’ She gulped, feeling herself blush.

Evan winked roguishly. ‘Don’t mention it.’ He straightened, wiping his hand on his jeans and setting the vase down. The remaining water was tinged pink. When it became apparent that her brother’s thoughtfulness did not extend to plant life, Jess reached out and restored the roses to their former home.

‘There,’ the seer said. ‘All better.’

‘As much as can be expected,’ Laine added softly. There was an odd look on her face. She’d stood silently by Solace’s side throughout Evan’s ministrations. Now, she walked across to the lounge and sat down between Paige and Harper, pointedly forcing them to make room. Paige shot the Goth girl a venomous look, which Laine ignored. At that, Liluye raised an eyebrow, but said nothing, instead motioning for Jess and Evan to sit. When everyone was arrayed before her, she folded her hands and spoke.

‘Solace was born to fight Sanguisidera. Her parents hoped she would be a weapon. After Grief was taken from them, they came to me for guidance. The Rookery houses many guests, and many secrets. A powerful seer, a child, had sought sanctuary with us. She was dying. Her name was Lin. For Morgause and Aaron, she spoke a prophecy of Sanguisidera’s doom. It was the last she ever made. Three days later, she died. By now, the prophecy should have come to you. Has it?’

Solace met Liluye’s gaze and nodded.

‘Good. That is one thing out of the way.’

‘Can you tell us what it means?’ asked Laine.

Liluye’s expression was unreadable. ‘Perhaps. But there are more urgent things to discuss. Why does Sanguisidera hunt you? It is not merely because she is mad, or because Lin prophesied her actions, or because Aaron and Morgause dared to rebel. It is because of Starveldt.’

‘Starveldt?’ Solace felt her eyes widen. ‘But she burned it. I saw it happen. In a nepenthe-vision,’ she added, at Liluye’s expression. ‘Why do that if the castle is what she wanted?’

Liluye frowned and tilted her head, hawk feathers fluttering at her throat. ‘Have you not read Morgause’s book? You have the key, so I had assumed –’

‘The book was stolen,’ said Evan, coming to Solace’s rescue. ‘All we have left are the key and a few pages, courtesy of Sharpsoft, which told us about the prophecy and how to get here. Sanguisidera has the rest.’

Liluye exhaled sharply. ‘I see. I will not ask how this came about – not yet. Rather, I will enlighten you.’ She leaned forward, gold eyes bright. ‘Three things you must know. Firstly, Starveldt is more than a castle. Secondly, its key is more than a key. And thirdly, there is more than one reality. The universe is infinite. It is difficult to walk between worlds, but far from impossible – your presence in the Rookery is testament to that. Some beings are born with the gift to traverse space and time. Sharpsoft is one, though he is hardly unique. More prized still are the gatemakers: those whose power lies in the creation of portals.’

‘Mikhail Savarin,’ said Solace, without meaning to. When Liluye glanced sharply at her, she blushed. ‘In the pipes, I mean. And at Town Hall. He joined different places together.’

Liluye shook her head. ‘His talents are marginal, and may also be put to other uses. Compared to linking different planes of reality, what is there to changing the outlook of doors situated in a single world? No. The energy and skill required to anchor an interdimensional gate requires a unity of purpose that no Bloodkin could ever properly attain, even if they possessed the raw ability – their minds are simply too fractured. A true gatemaker, on the other hand, can establish permanent portals between the worlds. The very strongest may bind one door to multiple locations.’

‘Like the tower in Lukin’s office,’ Electra suggested, but again, Liluye shook her head.

‘I know the place of which you speak, and no. What you saw there was a holding space – a foyer, if you like, opening onto several Earthly locations. Most commonly, the inner doors are attuned to a particular individual: in this instance, Lukin. Should someone try to open them without him, they revert to nothingness. A safeguard.’

‘What about the Rookery, then?’

Liluye flexed her fingers. ‘Reality, as you may have had occasion to notice, is complicated. Although the Rookery opens onto many worlds, it is not anchored to a particular plane. Rather, we exist discreetly – a pocket dimension, if you will. A geode in the bedrock of the universe. The Rookery may open anywhere, because it belongs nowhere. But Starveldt is different.’

‘There’s a gate in Starveldt?’ Solace felt her heart speed up.

Liluye nodded. ‘Yes, and it is among the most powerful in existence. Although the castle is anchored to your Earth, the portal within it may, at the discretion of the keyholder, link with anywhere in the worlds. Solace, the key to Starveldt unlocks reality. With it, you could traverse the planes, gain entrance to every city of legend, future realms or kingdoms past: every sphere to which life clings. It is a power unto itself, and a grave responsibility. Even when used on an indifferent door, the key can create temporary portals.’

It’s how we escaped from Lukin’s tower
, thought the Vampire Cynic.

As if sensing Solace’s thoughts, Liluye leaned forward, her voice low and troubled.

‘And this is why Sanguisidera seeks it. Up until very recently, she was ignorant of the key, which is the only reason Morgause and Aaron were able to escape with it. She burned the castle to spite your parents and steal Grief, not to destroy the gate. As if mere flame could touch it! But for all her cunning, Sanguisidera understands little of such magic. When she realised the gate wouldn’t work, she vacated Starveldt to search for the answer. Fortunately for us, the castle has its own defences. Without its proper guardians in residence and the key gone, Starveldt sealed itself shut, folding into a frozen pocket of time. Until it is reopened, it can neither be seen, nor reached, nor accessed. Sanguisidera is barred.’

For a moment, there was silence. Solace felt dizzy. It had been one thing to hear Glide speak about infinity and apple-boxes in the comfort of the Gadfly, but it was quite another to sit in a temple-hotel beneath the Rookery’s impossible sky and have it confirmed and expanded upon by Liluye. Her chest felt tight, and not just because of her encounter with Grief.

Paige looked shocked, as did Electra. Jess’s expression was caught somewhere between disbelief and amusement. Manx looked pale, while Harper was all thoughtfulness; Laine was unreadable. Only Evan was grinning.

‘That,’ he said, ‘is the
coolest
thing I have ever heard. Multiple worlds? I mean, come on!’

‘Multiple worlds,’ echoed Liluye. ‘Worlds for the Bloodkin to raze. Worlds they yearn to exploit, conquer, ravage, undermine, break. Sanguisidera has lived a long time. She has little love for this planet. Key, gate and castle: if she were to claim them all, the consequences would be catastrophic.’

‘So we don’t let her get the key,’ Evan said. ‘I mean, that’s why we came here, right? So you could help us.’

‘Indeed.’ Liluye’s eyes flashed. ‘In which case, you had best tell me how Sanguisidera came to be in possession of the rest of Morgause’s book, and of yourselves.’

There followed as awkward a round of belated, self-conscious introductions as Solace had ever seen. To her credit, Liluye did not laugh, although more than once, she seemed to be reining in humour. By mutual consensus, it fell to Jess to narrate the events preceding their arrival at the Rookery, for which Solace felt absurdly grateful. Even if her earlier ordeal had left her unscathed, she doubted she could speak of Glide’s betrayal and the warehouse fire, the deaths of their friends and her time in Sanguisidera’s cavern. Hearing it all retold was bad enough.

As Liluye absorbed the story, Solace found herself glancing at Laine, as though she were reading in some mercurial barometer the first flickerings of storm. The psychic remained as mute and expressionless as ever, but just occasionally, some thought or other rippled across her features, tiny wavelets on a tranquil pond.
Secrets all unsaid
, thought the Vampire Cynic.

After what felt like hours, Jess slumped back in her seat, the telling finished. Liluye’s tawny stare was unreadable, and though her calm remained unbroken, her face had changed, a subtle shift of tendon over bone that tightened cheek and jaw. For a moment, she said nothing. Then she inclined her head, dreadlocks rustling.

‘Jessica Avalon Black. I thank you.’

Jess’s surprise was quickly replaced with indignation. ‘Hey! What are you, psychic?’

Liluye smiled. ‘What’s life without a little mystery? Suffice to say that I have an affinity with names.’

‘Fair enough,’ Jess said, grudgingly. The proprietor laughed.

‘And what about the prophecy?’ asked Paige. ‘If you’re so good, tell us who’s who.’

‘Ah.’ Liluye straightened in her chair. ‘Now
that
, as they say, is the sixty-four thousand shekel question. Obviously, the Daughter refers to Solace, but the rest remains to be seen.’

‘Useful.’ Paige glared at Liluye. ‘Or, like, not.’

‘Paige!’ Harper looked embarrassed, but the short girl was unrepentant.

‘What? She’s being cryptic on purpose! She already told Laine she could probably figure it out, so now she’s just trying to be mysterious. And it’s
annoying
.’

Solace found she was holding her breath, and promptly exhaled. If Liluye was offended, however, she didn’t show it, instead staring curiously at Paige. No one spoke. Seconds ticked by. A flush crept over Paige’s cheeks, bright against the pink and purple highlights in her hair, but still she refused to drop her gaze, meeting Liluye’s scrutiny with determination. Abruptly, the proprietor blinked and turned away, fixing her tawny eyes on Solace.

‘Eleuthera,’ she said, ‘may I assume that you have Lin’s prophecy on your person? It has been a span of years since I read it properly, and there is something I’d like to check.’

Solace fished in her pocket for the pages torn from Morgause’s book and handed them over. Liluye flipped unerringly to the verse, scanning it in moments. Then she smiled and turned back to Paige, whose indignation at being ignored was all too visible.

‘Paige Amanda Bryant, do you recall the precise wording of this prophecy?’

Paige grit her teeth at both question and naming. ‘No.’

‘I do not believe you.
Come will eight of rarest making
, it says. Surely, you can count as well as anyone. Are not there eight of you? Are you not all Rare?’

‘
No
.’ If it were possible, the redness of Paige’s face deepened. For an instant it seemed she would hold herself in check, but then the words exploded from her with enough force that she stood up and yelled. ‘
I’m not Rare
, all right? I never have been and I never will be! I’m useless and bloody normal and now I’m stuck here with a crazy vampire trying to kill me because she thinks I’m something I’m not! I don’t care what your prophecy says or what everyone else can do! I’m useless! I –’

‘You are not useless,’ said Liluye, cutting her off. Paige was breathing heavily. She stared at the proprietor, but didn’t speak. A deafening silence fell. After a moment, Paige clenched her fists and sat down on the edge of the lounge, tense as a length of stretched elastic.

‘You are not useless,’ Liluye said again, more softly. ‘And you
are
Rare. I do not say this because of Lin, but because after four centuries of life, I have learned to tell the difference between the bulk of humanity and those like us. Believe me. You are not ordinary.’

The blood drained from Paige’s face. She wasn’t alone in being taken aback, but for different reasons than everyone else.

‘
Four hundred years
?’ Harper was incredulous. ‘But you’re not, I mean –’ His gaze travelled to Solace.

‘A vampire?’ Liluye shook her head. ‘No. But Rare such as Eleuthera are not the only immortals known to time. We are none of us identical, except in two respects: that our powers increase with age, and that we cannot ordinarily bear children. That might seem like a gift to you, who are so young. It is not even particularly uncommon. But though Rare like myself boast an immunity to natural death, we may yet die by the hand of another – or, most often, by our own.’

A chill seemed to twist through the room. Though it could only have been some mischief of the light, Solace suddenly felt as if every line of Liluye’s protracted life was etched onto her face: not the deep, sloping creases of the slackskinned elderly, but a fine cross-hatching of years overwritten, a pattern of scars-that-weren’t. Solace had never felt any desire to end her own life, but her time in the group home had more than awakened her to the reality that other people did, and, after one particularly awful morning, to the fact that they sometimes succeeded. Solace had been nine when she walked into Rebekah’s room, wanting to see if the older girl was awake, only to find her body hanging from a beam in the roof. She had screamed and screamed, and tried to lift Rebekah by the legs, but the unnatural strength that was to claim her from the onset of puberty had not yet materialised, and the dead girl proved too heavy.

It had taken some years and the advent of her tell-the-truth thrall for Solace to discover why the other girl had done what she did, and, as was the case when she’d learned about Leonie’s early life, the knowledge had only left her wishing for ignorance. Despite her blessed lack of first-hand experience, it was a species of pain she thought she could understand. But looking at Liluye now, hearing her talk of suicide as the most frequent killer of immortals, she experienced a rush of panic and a cold pounding in her chest as she realised that the descriptor applied to
her
, too. Vampires lived forever: that was the myth, wasn’t it? Harper had referenced it with a glance, and Liluye’s words had acted as confirmation. Solace would outlive her friends, remaining youthful as they aged. Unless she chose to die as her own parents had done, she would never be a mother. All she would have was life; so much life as to become unbearable.