The Vampires' Birthright (16 page)

A strangled cry escaped my throat.

“We won’t let this happen to you, my dear. But please be more careful and realize that death is not the only danger pursuing you.”

fter learning this latest information from Kazikli, I wasn’t interested in sleep or rest of any kind. At least I finally understood a bit more about the evil glares I’d been getting, but it didn’t really help put my heart at ease. I wasn’t going to let them lock me in some dungeon somewhere and just serve up Txema on tap. My mind was also racing as I sought clues that might’ve hinted at the bombshell of Chanson and Racco’s love affair from centuries past. Was that why she sought to discourage me from hooking up with Racco back in France? At the time, the main point presented to me was that I had to remain unsullied until the blood and sex ceremony had produced a perfect heir for the birthmark and blood legacy that I alone could pass on to another generation, but was it really the petty jealousy of an ex-lover? Although if she was the mother of not one, but
two
children, that didn’t seem to make it very petty. Even with the advanced gestation period of these special children, that was a minimum of two years together and presumably more. Ten percent of my life, but really, compared to the life of an immortal that was the equivalent of a movie. I was starting to understand what Kazikli meant about the secrets. The best way to think about the past was to not think about it.

I could live with that, I decided, and was almost ready to move back to the present and consider what was about to become of my life situation later that evening. But then I recalled Chanson mentioned a girl during the heated discussion between her, Racco, and Gustav when determining whose seed I should carry in my womb, she mentioned a name… what was it again?

Marissa.

That was it! Chanson had said ‘Shall I take her to see Marissa?’ and Racco’s response was a dejected one. It was the last time I saw him, before he exited the grand hall in his own castle and left the collective presence of vampires gathered there. It was probably for the best, since he wasn’t allowed to witness my Relance du Sang. Briefly reliving the ceremony’s lurid details in my mind made me thankful he didn’t attend.

But, what about this girl named Marissa? Since I knew virtually nothing about her, other than I could almost feel Chanson’s terrible angst when she spoke of her that night, I had a new thing to discuss with my ancestral cousin whenever we’d meet up again.

That thought alone brought me back to the present.

Kazikli had gone fishing for our dinner. His catch was to be eaten ‘raw’ in the river while in his transient ‘bird’ state, and mine would be cooked civilized over the fire. He was quite serious about shape shifting into a gull or pelican of some sort―at least that’s what the bird looked like that flew out from our hideout and headed for the river. There had been no sign of Kazikli since the bird flew off.

The plan after dinner was for me to meet my new hosts, who from what I gathered were a reclusive Buddhist sect. That explained his colorful outfit, I suppose, and he had produced a similar triple robe for me. He even told me a little about the garment, that the collection of robes is called a
‘kashaya,’
which is supposed to represent the original mendicant clothing the early Buddhist monks wore more than two thousand years ago. The ‘triple robe’ is also referred to as a
‘tricivara’
, and the three layers are called
‘uttarasanga’
,
‘antafasavaka’
, and
‘sanghati.’

Why that information would be important to me is hard to say, but it was clear that Kazikli enjoyed the role of scholar. He was constantly pointing out the names of plants and animals that caught his eye. I had once again lost my iPad, but seemingly gained an information source as vast as the internet in the form of a kindly old vampire.

Kazikli also explained that only Suddhodana understood and would be able to speak English. Also, since he was another vampire, it looked as though my days would go back to a whole lot of nothing but nature watching.

“So what do you think?”

Kazikli had re-dressed in his colorful robes and held out a pair of fish that sort of looked like rainbow trout, although he said they weren’t.

“As long as they taste good, I’ll be fine,” I said, feeling severe hunger pangs and realizing that I hadn’t eaten anything since my meal was interrupted by, you know, things trying to murder me. Up until this moment, I had been too distracted by everything else to notice my hunger, but it now screamed to be taken care of. “I’m tempted to see if they make good sushi, but I’ll see if I can find something to prepare and cook them with.”

“Allow me,” he said. He used his fingernail to slice and gut the fish and then wrapped them in some large green leaves that he’d gathered. He buried the fish in the sand near the fire pit. “Once you’ve eaten, we’ll head to the village. It’s just a short walk from here.

The sun had mostly set below the canopy of trees, and the rays were faint but still enough to irritate his skin. Light tendrils of smoke drifted into the air above him from his arms and neck. He hurried over to the pit that remained free from even the slightest fractured sunrays seeping through the bamboo canes of our hideout.

Before long, we sat together next to the fire. Crickets and tree frogs sang as the shadows deepened and night fell upon us. He watched me as I ate, occasionally identifying the animal making a particular sound and usually telling a light anecdote from his past about the creature. In all, he kept the conversation very light and insubstantial. I’d already decided it would be better this time around to gather my own impressions of my new hosts without grilling him beforehand, and Kazikli seemed content to allow this.

Finally, when the near-full moon had risen to where its light danced upon the river, he announced it was time to leave. He tidied up the campsite and extinguished the fire. Once he was content the site was returned to the state it was in when we arrived, we set off. We followed the roped wooden walkway into deeper jungle, and true to his word, it was a short walk to the village. A series of torches and pit fires provided light to the arrangement of thatched huts with a smattering of wooden pagodas. No doubt, at least one of the pagodas contained a Buddha in statue form. I wondered if the idol would be more modest, as the copper, iron, or wooden representations of the Enlightened One, or would it be a lavish golden version? I felt like Lara Croft discovering some relic, and hoped I didn’t bring disaster for these people in my wake as had seemed to follow me of late.

Suddhodana greeted us, and I was impressed with the peacefulness that surrounded him. Even the dozen monks who accompanied their pale leader carried the same air of tranquility and confidence that all was well and dare I say, even holiness, and so it would remain. The servants, and I hated to use that word since everyone I encountered that night and beyond were always warm to each other, carried themselves with thoughtfulness and compassion, which seemed to be the rule for everyone.

My new host told me his Sakya clan was immensely pleased to have me there, and they would do everything in their power to make me comfortable. Although I recognized modern comforts were absent from this village, I wasn’t alarmed about it. I knew I should be, and probably would be soon, but at the moment, it didn’t matter. I felt unreservedly welcome, and thoroughly at home.

It was very strange.

I should’ve known Kazikli wouldn’t be staying long, and at first, I felt a twinge of worry. But after visiting with Suddhodana before Kazikli disappeared into the night, I felt assured all would be well. Real inner peace… who would’ve ever guessed that you could receive this by simply being around an entire population of people who had it?

Yeah, me neither. But it’s true.

Once everyone retired around ten o’clock, I thought I’d lie awake in my hut, restlessly twisting the night away in my bed that resembled a secured hammock. But within a few minutes, I was sound asleep, and enjoyed the most peaceful night I could ever remember having.

I slept through the entire next day and awoke only when I felt a cool hand on my shoulder. It took a second for my eyes to adjust to see Kazikli standing beside my bed. He wore only a wrap around his waist.

“Txema, I am sorry for waking you. I must leave soon.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

He sat, cross-legged on the ground. “Alchemy is not the only magic in this world, and as I mentioned, I think you would be an apt pupil someday. It is not an easy path, and one that requires two things above all else, both of which are in short supply just now―time and a well-stocked laboratory. There is a third component and that is discipline. That component is necessary in all of life, and in particular in the manipulation of the forces that control the universe. I hope that we have greater time to discuss my own theories on magic, and what exciting discoveries in modern human quantum theory are revealing but now is not the time. I am sure you are asking what this has to do with anything and why I woke you up for it. Well, I promised I would not leave you unarmed again, so I am here to teach you a very basic spell. Nothing more than a cantrip if you will, but it is the first step on a road you may or may not be willing to walk, and if you work to master it, it may provide you with some manner of protection, however fleeting.”

He had my attention now.

“Observe.” He closed his eyes.

I watched his skin smoke and blacken as if he stood in full daylight. After a couple of seconds, I feared he would combust completely. He opened his eyes, the smoking stopped, and his face contorted in a grimace of pain.

One of his hands had burned into a charred skeletal claw, and he used the other to slide a small glass tube filled with blood from his waistband. I leapt from the bed, took it from his shaking hand, and helped lift it to his lips. He gulped it down and his skin healed itself.

“I forget how quickly the full might of the sun banishes a shadow such as my kind. Forgive me.” He gasped for breath.

“What happened?” I asked.

“All things emit an aura of energy. With training and focus, this aura can be shifted into other spectrums. Consider this the first step on your training; before you shift your form, shift the energy of your spirit. In this case, I shifted my own into pure sunlight, not only the waves but the particles. It requires a great deal of understanding, visualization, and power. I’d recommend you begin with something a bit simpler, like perhaps a shift toward a single spectrum that is known to be
uncomfortable
to my kind. I would suggest the ultraviolet.”

He stood, fully recovered.

“It won’t be easy, and I am not sure you can master it in a single lifetime, but it is the one weapon I can arm you with at the moment which will help keep you from being completely dependent upon my kind and that will have to be enough for now. Suddhodana has agreed to teach you ways of meditating and connecting to a deeper source within yourself. I suggest you learn well and practice hard, for this will only aid you in what I show you tonight.”

He spent the next couple of hours breaking down the methods of visualization he used in order to shift his own aura and said that most magic was slightly different depending on the practitioner. It was the will and the faith that drove the change. He had known Christian mystics who drew upon a different visualization from Agnostics to achieve the same end, and that the modality was my own, and the source of power was something of great debate amongst societies even he had no access to. What it really meant for me was a whole lot of sitting around doing nothing and imagining myself being surrounded by invisible light.