The Vampire Diaries: The Return: Shadow Souls (31 page)

BOOK: The Vampire Diaries: The Return: Shadow Souls
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Elena’s stomach was slowly melting and taking her other internal organs with it.

And it never once occurred to her to think what her high school friends and rivals and enemies would have thought of her melting over classical music. She was free of petty spite, petty shame over differences. She was through with labeling. She wished that she could go back to show everyone that she’d never meant it in the first place.

The waltz was over all too soon and Elena wanted to push the Replay button and do it from the beginning again. There was a moment just when the music stopped where she and Damon were looking at each other, with equal exaltation and yearning and—

And then Damon bowed over her hand. “There is more to the waltz than just moving your feet,” he said, not looking up at her. “There is a swaying grace that can be put into the movements, a leaping flame of joy and oneness—with the music, with a partner. Those are not matters of expertise. Thank you very much for giving me the pleasure.”

Elena laughed because she wanted to cry. She never wanted to stop dancing. She wanted to tango with Damon—a real tango, the kind you were supposed to have to get married after. But there was another mission…a necessary mission that had to be completed.

And, as she turned, there were a whole crowd of
other
things in front of her. Men, demons, vampires, beastlike creatures. All of them wanted a dance. Damon’s tuxedoed back was walking away from her.

Damon!

He paused but did not turn back.
Yes?

Help me! We need to find the other half of the key!

It seemed to take him a moment to assess the situation, but then he understood. He came back to her, and taking her by the hand said in a clear, ringing voice, “This girl is my…personal assistant. I do not desire that she dance with anyone other than myself.”

There was a restless murmuring at this. The kind of slaves that got taken to balls of this sort were not usually the kind that were forbidden to interact with strangers. But just then there was a sort of flurry at the side of the room, eventually pressing toward the opposite side where Damon and Elena were.

“What is it?” Elena asked, the dance and the key both forgotten.

“Who is it, I’d ask, rather,” Damon replied. “And I’d answer: our hostess, Lady Bloddeuwedd herself.”

Elena found herself crowding behind other people to get a glimpse of this most extraordinary creature. But when she actually saw the girl standing alone in the doorway to the ballroom, she gasped.

She was made out of flowers…
Elena remembered. What would a girl made out of flowers look like?

She would have skin like the faintest blush of pink on an apple blossom, Elena thought, staring unashamedly. Her cheeks would be slightly deeper pink, like a dawn-colored rose. Her eyes, enormous in her delicate, perfect face, would be the color of larkspur, with heavy feathery black lashes that would make them droop half-shut, as if she walked always half in a dream. And she would have yellow hair as pale as primroses, falling down almost to the floor, wound in braids that were themselves incorporated into thicker braids until the whole mass was brought together just above her delicate ankles.

Her lips would be as red as poppies, half-open and inviting. And she would give off a scent that was like a bouquet of all the first blossoms of spring. She would walk as if swaying in the breeze.

Elena could only remember standing, gazing after this vision like the dozens of other guests around her. Just one more second to drink in such loveliness, her mind begged.

“But what was she wearing?” Elena heard herself say aloud. She could not remember either a stunning dress or a glimpse of lustrous apple-blossom skin through the many braids.

“Some sort of gown. It was made out of what else? Flowers,” Damon put in wryly. “She was wearing a dress made of every kind of flower I’ve ever seen. I don’t understand how they stayed put—maybe they were silk and sewn together.” He was the only one who didn’t seem dazzled by this vision.

“I wonder if she would talk to us—just a few words,” Elena said. She was longing to hear the delicate, magical girl’s voice.

“I doubt it,” a man in the crowd answered her. “She doesn’t talk much—at least until midnight. Say! It’s you! How’re you feeling?”

“Very well, thank you,” Elena replied politely, and then quickly stepped back. She recognized the speaker as one of the young men who had forced their cards on Damon at the end of the Godfather’s ceremony, the night of her Discipline.

Now she just wanted to get away unobtrusively. But there were too many of the men, and it was clear that they were not about to let her and Damon go.

“This is the girl I told you about. She goes into a trance and no matter how she’s marked; she doesn’t feel a thing—”

“—blood running down her sides like water and she never flinched—”

“They’re a professional act. They go on the road….”

Elena was just about to say, coolly, that Bloddeuwedd had strictly forbidden this kind of barbarism at her party, when she heard one of the young vampires saying, “Don’t you know, I was the one who persuaded Lady Bloddeuwedd to ask you to this get-together. I told her about your act and she was most interested to see it.”

Well, scratch one excuse, Elena thought. But at least be nice to these young men. They might be helpful somehow later.

“I’m afraid I can’t do it tonight,” she said, quietly, so that they would be quiet themselves. “I’ll apologize to Lady Bloddeuwedd directly, of course. But it just isn’t possible.”

“Yes, it is.” Damon’s voice, just behind her, astounded her. “It’s quite possible—given that someone finds my amulet.”

Damon! What are you saying?

Hush! What I have to.

“Unfortunately, about three and a half weeks ago I lost a very important amulet. It looks like this.” He brought out the half of the fox key and let them all take a good look at it.

“Is that what you used to do the trick?” someone asked, but Damon was far too clever for that.

“No, many people saw me do the act just a week or so ago without it. This is a personal amulet, but with part of it missing, I simply don’t feel like doing magic.”

“It looks like a little fox. You’re not a kitsune?” someone—too clever for their own good, Elena thought—asked next.

“It may look like that to you. It’s actually an arrow. An arrow with two green stones at the arrowhead. It’s a—masculine charm.”

A female voice somewhere in the crowd said: “I shouldn’t think you need any more masculine charm than you have right now!” and there was laughter.

“N
evertheless”—Damon’s eyes took on a steely glint—“without the amulet my assistant and I will not perform.”

“But—with it you will? I say, are you saying that you lost your amulet
here
?”

“As a matter of fact, yes. Just around the time the party arrangements were being set up.” Damon flashed a beautiful, haunting smile at the young vampires and then turned it off suddenly. “I had no idea I would have your help, and I was trying to find a way to get an invitation. So I took a look around to see how the place would be laid out.”

“Don’t tell me it was before the grass was rolled,” someone said apprehensively.

“Unfortunately, yes. And I was given a psychic message, which told me that the k—the amulet is
buried
somewhere here.”

There was a chorus of groans from the crowd.

Then there were individual voices raised, pointing out the difficulties: the rock-hardness of the rolled grass, the many ballrooms with their many floral arrangements in soil, the kitchen garden and flower gardens (which we haven’t even seen yet, Elena thought.)

“I realize the virtual impossibility of finding this,” Damon said, taking the half of the fox key back into his hand and making it disappear neatly by passing it near Elena’s hand, which was ready to receive it. She now had a special place for it—Lady Ulma had seen to that.

Damon was saying, “That is why I simply said no at the beginning. But you pressed me, and now I’ve given you the full answer.”

There was some more grumbling, but then people began walking out in ones and twos and threes, talking about the best places to start looking.

Damon, they’re going to destroy Bloddeuwedd’s grounds,
Elena protested silently.

Good. We’ll offer all the jewels you three girls have on you, as well as all the gold I have on me, as a recompense. But what four people can’t do, maybe a thousand can.

Elena sighed.
I still wish we’d had the chance to talk to Bloddeuwedd. Not just to hear her speak, but to ask her some questions. I mean what reason would a beautiful blossom like her have to protect Shinichi and Misao?

Damon’s telepathic answer was brief.
Well, let’s try the top rooms, then. That was where she was headed, anyway.

They found a case of crystal stairs—quite difficult to locate when all the walls were transparent, and frightening to ascend. Once on the second floor they looked for another one. Eventually Elena found it, by stumbling over the first step.

“Oh,” she said, looking from the step, which now showed itself through a line of red across its front edge, to her shin, which showed the same damage. “Well,
it
may be invisible, but we aren’t.”

“It’s not quite invisible.” Damon was channeling Power to his eyes, she knew. She’d been doing the same—but these days she wondered which of them had more of her blood in them: him or her?

“Don’t strain yourself, I can see the steps,” he said. “Just shut your eyes.”

“My eyes—” Before she could ask why she
knew
why and before she could scream he had picked her up, his body warm and solid and the only solid thing anywhere around. He headed up the stairs holding her so that her dress was out of the way of the blood droplets that fell freely into space.

For someone afraid of heights, it was a wild, terrifying ride: even though she knew Damon was in top condition and would not drop her and even though she was certain he could see where he was going. Still, left to herself and her own volition, she would never have made it farther than the first stair. As it was, she didn’t even dare wiggle much in case she threw Damon off balance. She could only whimper and try to endure.

When, an eternity later, they reached the top, Elena wondered who would carry her down, or if she would be left here the rest of her life.

They were confronted by Bloddeuwedd, the most enchantingly inhuman creature Elena had yet seen. Enchanting…but odd. Was there not a slight primrose pattern to her hair in back and on the sides? Wasn’t her face actually the
shape
of an apple-blossom petal as well as having the petal’s faint bloom?

“You are in my private library,” she said.

And, as if a mirror had cracked, Elena came free of the last of Bloddeuwedd’s glamour.

The gods had made her out of flowers…but flowers don’t speak. Bloddeuwedd’s voice was toneless and flat. It ruined the image of the flower-made girl completely.

“We’re sorry,” Damon said—naturally not at all out of breath. “But we’d like to ask you some questions.”

“If you think I will help you, I will not,” the flower-petal girl said in the same nasal tone. “I hate humans.”

“But I am a vampire, as you have surely already discerned,” Damon was beginning, laying the charm on thick, when Bloddeuwedd interrupted him. “Once a human, always a human.”

“I beg your pardon?”

Damon’s loss of control might have been the best thing that could have happened, Elena thought, trying to keep behind him. He was so clearly sincere about his scorn for humans that Bloddeuwedd softened a little.

“What did you come to ask?”

“Only if you had seen one of two kitsune lately: they’re brother and sister and call themselves Shinichi and Misao.”

“Yes.”

“Or they might—I’m sorry?
Yes?

“The thieves came to my house at night. I was at a party. I flew back from the party and almost caught them. Kitsune are hard to catch, though.”

“Where…” Damon swallowed. “Where were they?”

“Running down the front stairs.”

“And do you remember the date that they were here?”

“It was the night that the grounds were made ready for this party. Stone rollers went over the grass. The canopy was erected.”

Weird things to do at night, Elena thought, but then she remembered—again. The light was always the same.

But her heart was beating fast. Shinichi and Misao could only have been here for one reason: to drop off half of the fox key.

And maybe drop it in the Great Ballroom, Elena thought. She watched dully as the entire outside of the library rotated, almost like a giant planetarium, so that Bloddeuwedd could pick out a globe and place it in some contraption that must make the music play in various rooms.

“Excuse me,” Damon said.

“This is my private library,” Bloddeuwedd said coldly against the swelling of the glorious ending to the
Firebird Suite
.

“Meaning now we must leave?”

“Meaning now I am going to kill you.”

“W
hat?” shouted Damon over the music, while adding:
Run—go!
telepathically to Elena.

If it had merely been Elena’s life, she would have been glad enough to die here with the thunderous beauty of
Firebird
all around her, rathr than facing those steep, invisible steps alone.

But it wasn’t just her life. It was Stefan’s life, too. Still, the flower maiden didn’t look particularly menacing, and Elena couldn’t summon up enough adrenaline to try making it down that hidous stairway.

Damon, let’s both go. We have to search the Great Ballroom outside. Only you’re strong enough….

A hesitation. Damon would rather fight than face that enormous, impossible green field outside, Elena thought.

But Bloddeuwedd, despite her words, was now spinning the room around them again, so that she, at the edge of some invisible walkway, could find the exact orb she wanted.

Damon lifted Elena in his arms and said:
Shut your eyes
.

Elena not only shut her eyes, but put her hands over them as well. If Damon was going to drop her, she wasn’t going to help matters by shouting “Look out!” as he did it.

The sensations themselves were sickening enough. Damon leaped from step to step like an ibex. He seemed barely to touch the steps in going down and Elena wondered—quite suddenly—if anything were after them.

If so, it was information she needed to know. She began to lift her hands and heard Damon whisper-snarl “Keep them shut!” in a voice that few people liked to argue with.

Elena peeked out between her hands, met Damon’s exasperated eyes, and saw nothing following them. She clamped her hands back together and prayed.

If you were really a slave, you wouldn’t last a day here, you know,
Damon informed her, taking a final leap into space and then setting her down on invisible—but at least level—ground.

I wouldn’t want to,
Elena sent coldly.
I swear, I’d rather die.

Be careful what you promise,
Damon flashed his splendid smile down at her suddenly.
You may end up in other dimensions trying to fulfill your word.

Elena didn’t even try to one-up him. They were out, free, and racing through the glass house down to the stairs to the lower floor—a little tricky in her state of mind, but bearable—and finally out the door. On the grass of the Great Ballroom they found Meredith and Bonnie…and Sage.

He was actually in white tie as well, although his jacket strained at his shoulders. In addition, Talon was sitting on one—so the problem might be taken care of fairly soon, as she was ripping the material and drawing blood. Sage didn’t seem aware of it. Saber was at his master’s side, looking at Elena with eyes too thoughtful to be mere animal eyes, but without malice.

“Thank God you came back!” Bonnie cried, running to them. “Sage came and he has a marvelous idea.”

Even Meredith was excited. “You remember how Damon said we should have brought a diviner? Well, we have two now.” She turned to Sage. “Please tell them.”

“As a rule, I don’t take these two to parties.” Sage reached down to scratch under Saber’s throat. “But a little bird told me that you might be in trouble.” His hand moved up to stroke Talon, ruffling the falcon’s feathers slightly. “So,
dites-moi
, please: Just how much have you two been handling the half-key you
do
possess?”

“I touched it tonight and in the beginning, the night we found it,” said Elena. “But Lady Ulma handled it and Lucen made a chest for it and we’ve all handled that.”

“But outside the box?”

“I’ve held it and looked at it once or twice,” said Damon.


Eh bien!
The kitsune smells should be much stronger on it. And kitsune have very distinctive smells.”

“So you mean that Saber—” Elena’s voice gave out for pure faintness.

“Can sniff out anything with the smell of kitsune on it. Meanwhile, Talon has very good eyesight. She can fly overhead and look for the glint of gold in case it’s in plain sight somewhere. Now show them what they will be searching for.”

Elena obligingly held out the crescent shaped half-key for Saber to sniff.


Voilà
! And Talon, now you take a good look.” Sage backed away to what was, Elena supposed, Talon’s optimal seeing distance. Then when he came back, he said, “
Commençons!
” and the black dog exploded away, nose to ground, while the falcon took off in grand, high, sweeping circles.

“So you think the kitsune were on this grass?” Elena asked Sage, as Saber began racing back and forth, nose still just above the grass—and then suddenly veered out onto the middle of the marble steps.

“But assuredly, they were here. You see how Saber runs, like a black panther, with his head low, and his tail straight? He has business in hand, him! He is hot on the scent.”

I know someone else who gives off the same feeling, Elena thought as she glanced back at Damon, who stood with his arms folded, motionless, coiled like a spring, waiting for whatever news the animals would bring.

She happened to glance at Sage at the same moment, and she saw an expression on his face that—well, it was probably the same expression she’d been wearing a minute ago. He glanced at her and she blushed.


Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur
,” she said, looking away quickly.


Parlez-vous français, Madame?


Un peu
,” Elena said humbly—an unusual condition for her. “I can’t really keep up a serious conversation. But I loved going to France.” She was about to say something else, when Saber barked once, sharply, to attract attention and then sat bolt upright at the curb.

“They came or left in a carriage or litter,” Sage translated.

“But what did they do in the house? I need a trail going the other way,” Damon said, looking up at Sage with something like raw desperation.

“All right, all right. Saber!
Contremarche!

The black dog instantly turned around, put its nose to the ground as if it afforded him the greatest delight, and began running back and forth across the stairs and the lawn that formed the “Great Ballroom”—now becoming pitted with holes as people took shovels, pickaxes, and even large spoons to it.

“Kitsune are hard to catch,”
Elena murmured into Damon’s ear.

He nodded, glancing at his watch. “I hope we are, too,” he murmured back.

There was a sharp bark from Saber. Elena’s heart leaped in her chest.

“What?” she cried. “What is it?” Damon passed her, grabbed her hand, and dragged her in his wake.

“What has he found?” Elena gasped as they all reached the same point simultaneously.

“I don’t know. It’s not part of the Great Ballroom,” replied Meredith. Saber was sitting up proudly in front of a bed of tall, clustering pale lavender (deep violet) hydrangeas.

“They don’t look like they’re doing too well,” said Bonnie.

“And it’s not below any of the upper ballrooms, either,” Meredith said, stooping to get at Saber’s height and then look up. “There’s just the library.”

“Well, I know one thing without a question,” Damon said. “We’re going to have to dig up this flower patch and I don’t fancy asking Ms. Larkspur-eyes-Now-I-have-to-kill-you for her permission.”

“Oh, did you think they were larkspur, her eyes? Because I thought of bluebells, rahthah,” said a guest behind Bonnie.

“Did she really say she had to kill you? But why?” another guest, nearer to Elena asked nervously.

Elena ignored them. “Well, let’s put it this way, she’s certainly not going to like it. But it’s the only clue we’ve got.”
Except, I suppose, if the kitsune meant to leave it here, but then took off in a coach,
she added voicelessly to Damon.

“So that means the show can commence,” cried one of the young vampire fans, stepping toward Elena.

“But I don’t have my amulet back,” Damon said flatly, moving in front of Elena like an impenetrable wall.

“But you will in minutes, surely. Look, couldn’t some fellows backtrack with the dog to wherever the bad guys came from—came to the estate
from
, if you get me? And meanwhile we can be getting on with the show?”

“Can Saber do that?” Damon asked. “Follow a carriage?”

“With a fox in it? But of course. Actually, I could go with them,” Sage said quietly. “I could make sure that these two enemies are caught if they are on the other end of the trail. Show them to me.”

“These are the only shapes I know.” Damon reached out two fingers and touched Sage’s temple. “But, of course, they’ll have more forms, possibly infinite ones.”

“Well, they are not our priority, I assume. The, ah, amulet is.”

“Yes,” Damon said. “Even if you don’t land a blow on them, get the key half and race back.”

“So? Even more important than revenge,” Sage said softly, shaking his head in wonder. Then he added quickly. “Well, I will wish us good luck. Any adventurous types who want to go with me? Ah, good, four—very well, five,
Madame
—is enough.”

And he was gone.

Elena looked at Damon, who was looking back with blank, black eyes. “You really expect me to do—that—again?”

“All you need to do is stand there. I’ll make sure you lose as little blood as possible. And if you ever want to stop we can have a signal.”

“Yes, but now I understand. And I can’t handle it.”

His face went cold suddenly. Shutting her out.

“You’re not required to handle anything. Besides, isn’t it enough if I say it’s a fair bargain for Stefan?”

Stefan! Elena’s entire body went through some sort of elemental change. “Let me share it,” she begged, and knew that she was begging and knew what Damon was going to say.

“Stefan is going to need you when we get out. Just make sure you can handle
that
.”

Stop. Think. Don’t bash his head in, Elena’s brain told her. He’s pushing your buttons. He knows how to do it. Don’t let him push your buttons.

“I can handle both,” she said. “Please, Damon. Don’t treat me as if I were—one of your one-nighters, or even your Princess of Darkness. Talk to me as if I were Sage.”

“Sage? Sage is the most frustrating, cunning—”

“I know. But you talk to him. And you used to talk to me, and now you’re not.
Listen to me
. I can’t bear to go through this scenario again. I’ll scream.”

“Now you’re threatening—”

“No! I’m telling you what will happen. Unless you gag me, I’ll scream. And scream. As I would scream for Stefan. I can’t help it. Maybe I’m breaking down….”

“But don’t you see?” Suddenly he had whirled around and taken hold of her hands. “We’re almost at the end. You, who’ve been the strongest all along—you
can’t
break down now.”

“The strongest…” Elena was shaking her head. “I thought we were right there, on the verge of understanding each other.”

“All right.” His words came as hard chips of marble now. “What if we do five?”

“Five?”

“Five strokes instead of ten. We’ll promise to do the other five when the ‘amulet’ is found, but we’ll run when we do find it.”

“You would have to break your word.”

“If it takes that—”

“No,” she said flatly. “You say nothing.
I’ll
tell them. I’m a liar and a cheat and I’ve always played with men. We’ll see if I can’t finally put my talents to good use. And there’s no point in trying any of the other girls,” she added, glancing up. “Bonnie and Meredith are wearing gowns that would fall right off if you slashed them. Only I have a bare back.” She pirouetted in place to show off how her dress met only very high at the neck in a halter and very low in the back in a V.

“Then we’re agreed.” Damon had a slave refill his goblet and Elena thought: we’re going to be the tipsiest act in history, if nothing else.

She couldn’t help but shiver. The last time she had felt an inner trembling was from Damon’s warm hand on her bare back as they danced. Now, she felt something much icier, just a draft of cold air perhaps. But it drew her mind to the feeling of her own blood running down her sides.

Suddenly Bonnie and Meredith were there beside her, forming a barricade between her and the increasingly curious and excited crowd.

“Elena, what’s happened? They said a barbarian human girl was to be whipped—” began Meredith.

“And you just knew it had to be me,” completed Elena. “Well, it’s true. I don’t see how I can get out of it.”

“But what have you
done
?” Bonnie asked frantically.

“Been an idiot. Let some fraternity-type vampire boys think that it was a sort of magic act,” Damon put in. His face was still grim.

“That’s a little unfair, isn’t it?” Meredith asked. “Elena told us about the first time. It sounded as if they jumped to the conclusion that it was an act all by themselves.”

“We should have denied it then. Now, we’re stuck with it,” Damon said flatly. Then, as if he were making an effort, “Oh, well, maybe we’ll get what we came for, anyway.”

“That was how we found out—some idiot came running down the steps yelling about an amulet with two green stones.”

“It was all we could think of,” Elena explained wearily. “It’s worth it for Damon and I to do this if only we can find the other half of the key.”

“You don’t have to do it,” Meredith said. “We can just leave.”

Bonnie stared at her. “Without the fox key?”

Elena shook her head. “We’ve already been through all that. The unanimous decision was to do it this way. She looked around. “Now where are the guys that wanted to see it so much?”

“Looking in the field—that used to be a ballroom,” Bonnie replied. “Or getting shovels—lots of ’em—from Bloddeuwedd’s gardening compound. Ow! Why’d you pinch me, Meredith?”

BOOK: The Vampire Diaries: The Return: Shadow Souls
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