Vampire Girl 3: Silver Flame (16 page)

Es wrinkles her nose. "Ew… this falls into the category of shit I don't need to know about."

I sigh and push on, reading deeper into the text. "Here. Finally. Something." I point to a section they can’t read.

"It says the Druids and Spirits have a shadow form, that which taps into the Darkness. The power of light and dark. Life and death. Creation and destruction. Sometimes this form manifests when the Wild Ones are in grave danger. However, this power can also be summoned at will by those with the right knowledge." I close the book and put it back into the leather wrap. "Varis knew all this. He knew this is the information I needed, and he didn't tell me."

"How do you summon the shadow form?" Pete asks, eyeing the book with a frown.

"Under the light of the moons at midnight I must chant the binding words and connect with my Spirit," I say.

Es walks over to the door leading out to my balcony and opens it, letting in fresh air and a stream of sunshine. "It's sundown. We have time. What should we do until midnight?"

I shrug. "Hang out? Pretend life is normal? Catch up? We've hardly had time to just talk since we got here. Come on. Let's find somewhere in this pleasure domain to drink coffee and eat junk food and talk."

With that plan set, we leave the Pleasure Palace and explore Dean's realm, stopping at different vendors to try their wares and eventually settling on a little cafe by the water.

Once we have food and drink, I look at my best friends… really look at them… for the first time since I pulled them into this mess. "Are you guys okay? Is this completely freaking you out?"

Pete shrugs. "It's actually pretty cool. I mean, there are things I miss. Like phones."

"And television," Es says with an exasperated sigh. "What do people do here to relax?"

I laugh. "I don't know. I haven't had much time to relax since I got here. Unless you count my time in the dungeon relaxing."

Es shutters. "No, thank you. I can't believe that bastard did that to you. I'd cut his manhood off myself if I could."

"Thanks," I say. "But he'll get what's coming to him."

"Are
you
happy here?" Es asks. "Are you happy with
him?"

"I could be," I say honestly. "When I spent my month with Fen in Stonehill… yeah, there were problems, and everyone here seems to be at war with someone, but we also found a routine. I trained with Fen in the mornings and worked with Kayla learning blacksmithing in the afternoons. At night, I would study everything I could about this place under the watchful gaze of Kal the Keeper. I made friends. I learned a lot. And…"

"And you fell in love with the tough-on-the-outside-soft-on-the-inside sexy Prince of War," Es says, finishing my thought for me in the way only she can.

"Yes, I suppose I did." I think of Fen and wish he were here with us now. It worries me that he's gone into enemy territory. But he should be back soon. "Without Fen, I’m not sure I’d want to be here, but I don't have a choice. I signed a contract. And… this is where I'm from, at least half of me."

Es shakes her head. "That must be so cray-cray! Being a Fae princess after spending your life thinking you're just a poor kid in Oregon."

"It is a bit surreal," I admit.

"There's something I've been meaning to ask. How do you handle… womanly things?" Es raises an eyebrow as if I should know what she's talking about.

"Womanly things?"

She sighs. "You know what I mean. I may have the parts, and sure, they don't all work. But I am familiar with the plumbing. You're young. Fertile. And prone to that monthly visit from every woman's most despised aunt. At least in our world you have the marvels of tampons and pain reliever. What do you do here?"

I laugh. "
That's
your big question? We're in a magical world with vampires and Fae and dragons and you want to know what I do for my period?"

"It's a legit question," she says. "Don't tell me it wasn't something you worried about too."

"To be honest, it hasn't been as bad as you might think," I say. "While this place looks very medieval, it's not. Not when you factor in magic and strong influences from our modern world. They can't replicate everything, but they've made a go of it with some things. And there's a potion I drink once a month that all but eliminates cramps and bloating. If I could bring it back to our world and patent it, I'd be the richest person to ever live."

"That's not so bad then," Pete says. "But… how much longer until you think we can go home?"

"I don’t know." I don’t know when we will defeat Levi. And if we lose, they might never go back. But I don’t have the heart to tell them. "I'm so sorry I pulled you into this. Do you hate me?"

Es sips her drink and laughs. "Darlin', this is the first vacation I've had since I started working when I was thirteen. We are surrounded by eye candy galore and all the food and drink we could want. We're good."

"And I'm getting training I could have never imagined," Pete says, his face lighting up. "Varis is amazing." Then a shadow falls over his eyes, probably remembering the book we
borrowed.

"Ha. Yeah. Slave driver, but amazing. Sure."

We spend the rest of the evening hanging out, exploring Dean's realm, and just talking. It feels good to have a semi-normal day with my best friends. I show them the grove of trees Dean took me to and explain their history. Pete, especially, is drawn to the magic of the forest, and convinces us to stay longer. Why not? We need someplace private to do the ritual, and the grove is about as good as it gets. We stay there as the moons rise higher in the sky and everything turns dark, save what we can see by moonlight. The ancient trees cast long shadows against us. It's a haunting scene, one that sends a shiver up my spine.

I start to have second thoughts, but I need an edge to defeat Levi. I must do this.

Yami looks nervous as I place him on the ground in front of me. "We're going to make this happen, okay, buddy? Don't worry, it's going to be fine."

I open the book and read the lines as instructed, then I close my eyes and focus. Something swirls deep within me, like liquid fire in my belly. I tug at it and pull it out, expanding it within me. It warms my bones and blood and pushes out the chill caused by handling the dark tomb.

And as I meditate the way Varis taught me, I feel the string of power that connects me to my dragon. Yami chirps nervously, and I try to sooth him through our connection.

I speak the final incantation.

And when I open my eyes, Yami's form evaporates and a darkness covers the light of the moons, blocking them from sight as a cold wind blows through the grove. Shadows form before me, coalescing into something much darker and larger than I've ever seen of the Midnight Star. 

A surge of excitement spreads through my belly as I realize it's working. We did it.

Yami's form materializes into the sparkling midnight of stars, and he screeches loudly into the night, breathing a stream of blue flame across the sky. I reach a hand out to him, a smile on my face at his magnificence, but when he turns to me, it is not the Yami I know and love.

It is a different Yami.

Full of rage and darkness.

Then I feel it.

The shadows spreading through me like a cancer, infecting every part of my body.

The dragon screeches again and shoots more flames as his tail lashes out, hitting an ancient tree and cutting the bark in half.

No.

Pete and Es scramble to my side. "What's he doing?" Es asks.

"I don't know."

Yami roars again. Then turns his attention to us. His raises his talons, larger than a person. And strikes.

I push my friends out of the way and we fall into the grass. "Run!" I scream. "Run!"

We rush out of the grove, and behind us, a shadow loom over the sky.

Yami.

People scream in the streets. They run for cover.

And the dragon descends, breathing flame upon all in his path. He sets buildings on fire. And when I look behind me, I see it.

The grove.

Burning.

How could I have done this? How can I stop it?

"Yami!" I call out to the sky. "Yami, stop. Please. It’s me."

The dragon tilts his head down at my form, and then he strikes. I dodge out of the way.

But Es isn’t fast enough.

Talons graze her shoulder, and she screams in pain and falls to the stone tiles. Pete rushes to her side, blocking her with his body.

Tears fill my eyes. "Yami. This isn’t you."

A gust of wind nearly knocks me down.

And the dragon lands before me. His purple eyes stare deep into my soul. Within them I see time and space and the end of all things. Within them I see death.

What have I done?

What have I unleashed?

Yami…

He lunges for me. To kill. To end.

And then a silver owl crashes into his side, ramming them both into a building. The stone crumbles around them, and the beasts roar and hiss as they fight each other with tooth and claw.

Varis glides down in front of me, his cloak twirling in an unnatural wind.

I nearly pass out from relief and fear and complete anguish. "Varis, I'm so sorry."

He doesn't look at me as he replies. "This is not the time. Focus. You and you alone can calm the Midnight Star and push back the Darkness. Close your eyes."

I feel gutted at his anger and disappointment, and my own failure to abide by his guidance, but I close my eyes and focus as he speaks. He takes me through exercises to calm my heart rate, to ease tension, to manifest the light in my soul and dispel the Darkness.

I can hear his owl, Zyra, fighting with Yami, struggling to pin him down and keep him from causing more harm. I can hear the screams of men and women as they try to put out fires and free others from rubble. I feel a wave of grief at what I've done, but I push it away and concentrate. 

I push away the anger and fear and sorrow. I push away the thrill I sought after. I push until there is nothing left. But calm. But peace.

When I open my eyes, my little baby dragon is with me again, perching on my shoulder. And then I feel exhaustion overtake me, and I collapse. I look up, to the burning grove, to the ancient trees who groan as they die, and I weep. "I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I didn’t know…"

Varis doesn’t look at me.  "I told you not to summon the Darkness. Now, you must live with the consequences." He turns and walks away, leaving me alone with shadow and flame.

"We cannot let our enemies live."

—Lord Salzar

We return to
the Outlands and mount Tavian’s horse once more. "Metsi is even more mad than I heard," he says, half to himself.

I frown. "And you thought going to her was a good idea?"

"She wasn’t always so. Once she was kind and wise and good. Seeing her people slaughtered must have changed her."

"What happened back there, when the room grew dark?"

He sighs. "You know of the four elements, yes? Riku, Wadu, Zyra, and Tauren. Most Fae tap into their power to cast spells. But there is another power.  That of Darkness. That of the Midnight Star. It is life. It is death. It is the beginning and the end."

"Is that the power you use?"

He looks away, something lurking in his eyes. Shame, perhaps. "Long ago, before the Unraveling, I was a scholar of sorts. I studied at a library so great, there are none that even compare now. My colleagues and I developed a theory, a theory that the power of the Midnight Star can be accessed by others. Not only the chosen High Fae.

"It took years of research and experimentation, but finally we created a ritual. We spoke the incantations under a full moon, covered in the colors of night. And we saw it… the Darkness. But we could not control it. The power spread like a plague, killing all it touched. All but those who had called it forth.

"When I realized what was happening. I ran. I ran back home. To my family. My wife. And when I reached them. I saw their rotting bodies, covered in blackened flesh. I still remember my wife, reaching for me, pleading for me to save her. But I could do nothing."

He goes silent, and I can tell he will say no more.

"I’m sorry," I say, wrapping my arms around him in a hug.

"It was a long time ago," he says.

And then, we ride in silence.

I look to the fresh sky and watch the rising sun. The climate here, even the time of day, is so different from Avakiri. I try to lighten the mood. "So, since you decided not to sell me to the crazy Wild One, what next?"

He doesn’t face me. Just looks at the snow, lost in thought. "Don’t know. But there’s a storm coming. We need shelter." I wonder how he knows. I see no signs. "We’ll be there soon."

"There?"

He motions forward, and then I see it, in the distance.

A small village built from gray wood, surrounded by palisades. The houses little more than huts. When we ride in, a Fae woman with blue hair and dark gray robes greets us as she leans on her withered walking stick. "Tavian, so good to see you, my lad." She hugs him.

"And you, Madrid."

The woman, Madrid, turns to me. "And who is this—"

"That be Kayla Windhelm," says another Fae, walking up beside us. His hair is red, his short beard too, and he wears a leather vest made for fighting. "She’s the dead king’s bastard. Saw her once in Stonehill. Sorry girl, but we don’t need yer kind here."

Madrid places a hand on her companion. "Now Durk, be calm. Remember, we welcome all in this village. As long as they swear to bring no harm."

Tavian side eyes me, and I nod. "I swear."

"So do I," he says.

"Wonderful," says Madrid, smiling. "Now, follow me. The two of you look like you haven’t bathed in weeks."

She’s not quite wrong. I reek.

Durk mumbles and curses under his breath, but lets us pass as we travel through the village. Children play in the snow, building figures from sticks and singing songs about the Primal One. Women wash clothing in barrels of water. Men patch together a broken rooftop.

A horse neighs. In the center of the town. Something is wrong.

A woman yells as a giant black mare almost crushes her with its hooves. "What’s gotten into you, Mally?"

Mally, the mare, neighs again, still restless and wild.

I rush forward, then slow down, my hand forward. "Easy girl. Easy." I’ve done this before, when one of the horses pulling my cart got spooked, and it works now. Mally relaxes, letting me pet her head. "Good girl," I say. "What’s wrong, huh?"

"And who would you be?" asks the woman who seems to own Mally.

I ignore her and examine the horse. "Her shoe is shot. Where’s the blacksmith?"

"There is none," says Durk, catching up. "Died a few weeks past.

"Then where’s the forge?"

"Why, you have some skill?"

"Maybe."

Tavian laughs. "So you know of Kayla Windhelm, but not her skill at the forge?"

Durk grunts, and says nothing.

"Here," I say, passing the reigns to Tavian. "Watch her while I make a new shoe." He nods, and I find the forge. A shadow of what I had in Stonehill, but good enough. It takes me a while to make the horseshoe and a while to shoe the horse. Once I’m done, Mally is returned to the stable, and Madrid thanks me.

"No need," I say. "Something needed mending, and I mended it. That’s what I do."

"You have a kind heart," she says leading me into a wooden hut. There, in the center of a room, is a wooden bath. "I already heated the water. Take your time. And after, feel free to cool off in the lake outside."

I thank her and, after she leaves, I slip off my clothes and sink into the bath. By the Spirits, it feels good. I let the water relax and soothe my muscles, as I lean back my head and think of nothing but happiness. When the water begins to turn cold, I reluctantly leave the bath, then wrap myself in a white towel hanging on the well. I step outside the house, onto a porch overlooking the lake. I see Tavian there. And he’s…

Well…

He’s naked.

Standing on the opposite side of the water, his muscles rippling in the sun. He notices me looking and winks, then dives in the cold water. "Woo!" he yells, breaking the surface and flicking back his thick hair. "What’s wrong, Princess? Water too cold?"

I roll my eyes. Then jump in after him, letting my towel fall off. The water is freezing, and sends a shock through my entire body. It fills me with a rush, and when I break the surface, I realize I am right in front of Tavian. Our bodies almost touching.

"The Princess is braver than I thought," he teases.

I smirk. "Oh, you don’t scare me."

"I should, Princess. I should." He wraps an arm around me. Pulls me closer.

I lean forward, drawing my lips to his. And—

"Time for the feast!" someone yells. Durk. He stands on shore, holding up my towel. "Unless you’re too good to eat with us, Princess?"

"I am not a princess!" I say, my eye almost popping out of their sockets from exasperation at having to remind everyone of this.

Durk shrugs and walks away.

Tavian sighs. "We should go. It would be disrespectful to be late."

I nod, the moment between us ending too soon.

Once I’m dressed, Tavian leads me to the giant bonfire in the center of the village. Dozens of Fae sit around the flames, while others play drums and a few dance to the music. We join Madrid and watch as she passes sweets out to the children. Once she has no more to give, she wanders off, away from the fire.

"Something wrong?" I ask Tavian.

He shrugs, his gaze fixed on the dancers, who twirl blue and green ribbons through the air, their bodies in sync with the tribal beat.

I touch Tavian on the shoulder. "I’ll be back in a moment." Then I stand and look for Madrid, finding her near a gravestone.

"Are you okay?" I ask.

She nods, rubbing at her eyes. "Yes. I’m fine. Just honoring the dead in my own way."

I notice the tears in her eyes. "This person. They were important to you."

"Yes. Yes, he was. We grew apart at the end, but I still loved him."

"What happened?" I ask, hoping I’m not pressing too far, but also knowing that discussing loss can help with grief.

She sighs, leaning more on her cane than before. "He died. In the battle at Stonehill. I found his body there, on the battlefield, and I would not leave it behind to rot with the rest. So I carried him here. Paid for it too. A vampire tried to rob me, but I got him before he got me. Though, he did wound my leg." She taps her walking stick on the snow.

"I have some skill in healing. I could try to help, if you’d like?"

She chuckles. "Thank you, girl, but I have done all the healing one could on this leg. Perhaps it will get better with time, but I doubt it. Now, let us return to the feast. And honor the dead by enjoying what they fought for."

I follow her back to bonfire, and we sit together near Tavian.

"Here, let me see your palm," says Madrid, and I let her study my hand. "Your life has been short, for a Fae," she says, "but not devoid of hardship. Yet, there is much more to come." She closes her eyes, murmuring some incantation. She speaks softly, her voice low and hoarse. "I see a silver bird and a tiger, black. I see a serpent and no way back." She opens her eyes, and jolts backwards, as if startled from a dream.

"What does it mean?" I ask.

She glances at Tavian, then back at me. "I do not know. But you will see the signs."

Somehow, I feel she knows more than she says. So why not tell me? Is my future truly so grim?

I try to focus on something else. "So, how do you know Tavian?" I ask.

She smiles. "Oh, Tavian has been around a very long time. I’d be surprised if there’s someone he
doesn’t
know."

I look back at the sexy Fae, studying his hair and skin. He does not look like the ancient Fae I’ve seen. His hair isn’t white, and his joints and muscles are full of power. But he did mention a time before the Unraveling. A time ages ago.

"Have you seen Metsi recently?" asks Tavian.

Madrid nods somberly. "She is not as she was. And I fear, after Oren’s death, she has descended even further into madness."

"Oren?" The name sounds familiar. "The Fire Druid? He passed?"

Madrid looks away from the fire, to the darkness she had just visited. "Killed in battle." She doesn’t offer more.

"So what brought you here?" asks Tavian. The question surprises me. I’d assumed this was Madrid’s home.

Madrid glances at the children, playing and dancing by the fire. "Durk and I wanted to help those injured in the battle, and the families whose father and mothers and children never returned. This seemed like the place to start." She turns to me. "What of you, Kayla Windhelm? What brought you so far north?"

"I…" I can’t muster the words. I can’t tell her I came here to raid and pillage and murder her people. My people. No. We are still different, I tell myself. I am Shade. And they are Fae. We are not the same.

Tavian seems to notice my troubles and puts a hand on my shoulder. "It’s not where we came from, or why, that matters," he says. "What matters is where we go from here."

Madrid nods. "Wise words, Lord Tavian."

"Lord?" I ask.

He glances at Madrid, then chuckles. "Only a nickname she likes to tease me with."

"Yes," Madrid says, looking down. "Yes. Only a nickname."

I study Tavian. This man who is so much more than he seems. "Who are you?" I ask.

For a moment, he says nothing. Then he looks at me, his green eyes deep and mesmerizing. "Kayla, I—"

An arrow streaks through the sky.

It hits one of the dancers in the chest, and they collapse in the snow. People scream. The children cry.

"Raiders," I call out. "Get everyone inside. Bar the doors. Grab anything that can be used as a weapon."

Madrid nods and stands, moving swiftly despite her walking staff. "Everyone, follow me! Come, children." She glances at Tavian, before moving on, and he nods. Why?

Arrows begin to rain from the sky, hitting a woman in the shoulder. One lands near my foot. Tavian and I duck behind a cart.

He grabs my arm. "Kayla. Follow them inside. Now. You need to trust me."

"No. I’m staying. I can fight."

"Trust me," he growls.

Something in his tone, in his eyes, sways me. "Fine. I’ll hide." I touch his hand. "Be careful." He nods, and I run, dodging arrows until I reach the forge. My breath turns to smoke in the air. My limbs tremble with cold. Thunder roars above, lightning streaks the sky. The storm Tavian spoke of. I find an old rusty sword and hide behind a wall, searching for attackers. I see none yet, but they will come. I turn my gaze to Tavian.

He steps out from behind the cart, out into the snow and rain of arrows. Over the hill, a company of dozens descends. Vampires wielding torches and swords and spears. They howl like beasts and laugh like madmen.

Tavian does not waver. He unfastens his cloak. He pulls off his shirt. And then he changes.

He leaps forward, and midair his skin turns to fur, his hands to claws. When he lands, it is on top of a man, and he tears him in half, spraying the snow with blood. This is not what Tavian was before. He is not white. But black with silver stripes.