12 Rescued

HIDDEN BENEATH THE flooring of the old house, Myral crouched with Hazine in her arms, listening. There was no sound, and after a while, Myral thought they’d escaped notice.

Then a scratching noise reached them. Hazine whimpered. Myral was quick to slap a hand across the girl’s mouth, feeling hot breath moisten her palm. The scratching was followed by several thumps. She reached slowly for the knife strapped to her thigh, but the cellar door was ripped upwards before she could tug it free.

Hazine screamed as Myral felt herself being hauled out by her hair. A weight then pinned her to the floor. Opening her eyes, blinking through dust and lamp light, she saw an alien visage. At first, she thought it was a man, but the face was distorted, the bones and muscles beneath the taut skin forming and reforming. Its lower jaw unhinged as its canine teeth lengthened.

Myral heard Hazine’s screams, but there was nothing she could do. The vampire bent closer, as though to bite her face off, and Myral shut her eyes while praying to the angels it would be quick.

The weight atop her vanished. She heard intense grunts and growls, the sounds of a struggle. Myral rolled onto her side while trying to gather her senses. Someone, though she couldn’t see who, grappled with the vampire. Hazine by now was also out of the cellar, and had curled up into a foetal position. At least she had stopped screaming. There was a very dead, undead vampire lying next to the girl. Her eyes were fixed on its pale leathery face. Otherwise, she looked unharmed.

Getting to her feet, Myral grabbed the girl’s hand, pulling her up too. Skirting the fight, they hurried outside. It was clear someone had arrived to help them. The girl had gone into shock, her useless spear forgotten on the floor inside the house.

Once they were in the open air, she patted Hazine up and down, searching for any sign of injury, but found none. Night lay as a silent shroud upon the landscape, but the moon had risen and the stars were bright and clear again. The problem was, there was nowhere to run to. A vampire would hunt them down easily, never mind a whole clot. She’d guessed the darkness earlier had been unnatural, likely due to the horde of vampires crossing the landscape. No doubt, they could see in it just fine.

The former priestess faced the house, placing the girl behind her as a figure appeared in the doorway. It moved in a normal fashion, not in the odd manner of a vampire at least, but it was still a stranger with unknown intentions. ‘Who are you?’

‘I would have thought a thank you appropriate, Myral,’ said the man in Keenish, ‘but you always were a contrary one. From the first moment we met.’

‘Wither?’ she whispered, recognising the voice, but refusing to believe it could be so easy. Not that having her face almost chewed off was easy, but she’d never expected him to come right to her.

‘Who else would help you out here?’ He approached them, though Myral still shielded the girl. She remembered him taking command of the vampires at Mourn, leading them. Now, it looked as though he’d killed two of them. This is the man I was going to search for, and get my revenge on? What was I thinking? How was it he had arrived in time to save them?

‘You still don’t trust me, do you,’ he then said, switching back to Icarthian. He gestured back at the house. ‘Only two bothered to enter, fortunately for you. You and this girl are not of interest to the horde.’ He glanced about, sniffing the air. ‘It is still safer inside than out here, though.’

Glancing about at the cold dark landscape, unable to see much of what was out there despite the moonlight, she found she couldn’t argue the point. Her arm about the girl’s shoulders, they returned inside, though she waited for him to enter first.

The stone table was split in two, a vampire sprawled across it, unmoving. Wither set about removing the bodies, dragging, and dumping them somewhere outside.

Hazine stared at him as he returned, eyes wide. ‘How did you kill them?’ she blurted. ‘I’ve seen them. No one can kill vampires. It’s impossible.’

‘I am not no one,’ he replied in her language, though where he had learned it, Myral couldn’t have guessed. It had taken her months, and she had an aptitude for languages. It had been necessary as an imperial spy to pick up other tongues quickly.

The door was smashed, irreparable, but Wither, displaying great strength, hefted half of the stone table and propped it against the entrance. He placed the other half on top, leaving a slight gap for the night air to seep in. It was better than no door at all.

Grabbing some blankets, he handed them to Myral. ‘It will be a long cold night, but I think you will be safe for the time being.’

‘Why,’ she demanded, ‘because you are here with us?’ She realised how she sounded, but his timely arrival and then immediately taking charge, irked her. She did not want to feel as though she needed this man, or that she owed him. Foolish? Maybe, but she couldn’t help it.

He looked grim as he said, ‘They have business to be about tonight. Those two were stragglers, weaker members.’

It then dawned on Myral what he meant. ‘The city? You mean Keen? Don’t tell me their horde is headed there; it’ll be a slaughter!’

Wither sat on the floor opposite them, and laid his head back against the whitewashed stone. He looked weak, his body slumped, as though he hadn’t eaten for a week. His skin was grey with deep shadows under his eyes. ‘The city is already lost. There is no saving it.’ He seemed to be staring at the girl through half open lids. ‘Who is she?’

She hugged the girl tighter, wrapping them both in a blanket, but Hazine seemed to be unaware. She was shivering. ‘A survivor.’ She thought she could hear the screams from Keen, floating on the wind, but knew it was her imagination. They were too far away, but imagination was sometimes a horrible thing.

‘Well, you cannot remain here. At dawn, we leave.’

‘What are you doing here, Wither? How did you end up out here in the first place? Where have you been?’

‘A long story. Let’s just say, they had to go somewhere, and here is where they chose.’

‘They chose? You were supposed to have control over them, weren’t you?’

‘This is the man you were talking about?’ asked Hazine, and Myral nodded, glad the girl was taking an interest. It meant she wasn’t in total shock. She would recover.

Wither leaned forwards to look at Myral, and she saw in his eyes, deep exhaustion, and pain. ‘Their new leader usurped me. Wormwood is the strongest and most brutal vampire I’ve ever come across. Sometimes, I think he’s ... well, something other than a vampire. At least, he doesn’t look like one, although he claims to be. Then again, I was their leader and I don’t look like one either.

‘He appeared from nowhere, and the vampires rallied to him. I tried and failed to stop him, but managed to survive.’

‘How did you know I was here?’

‘I didn’t. I followed these vampires, unable to do anything but watch. I’ve been seeking for a way to get at least some of them back under my control. They’ve been planning for this attack, and they won’t stop at one city. The entire kingdom of Keen, Vegoia and then the world. It is the end of all things, Myral, and you and I shall be witnesses.’ He then lay his head back, and fell into a deep sleep.

‡

THE NEXT MORNING, TRUDGING across the barren lands of Keen, Myral watched the western mountains creep past on their left. ‘Won’t they just catch up to us, and kill us out here?’

Wither’s face twitched; his gaze distant. ‘They will feed and rest inside the city. It is a good place for them to ... digest their meal, and it’s nicer than mountains or caves.’

‘At least we know where they are for now,’ said Myral.

‘Oh, they’re not the only ones. Others are out there, in caverns beneath the ground, yet to emerge. There are hundreds of thousands of vampires beneath us.’

Oh, Spectrum above have mercy on us.

‘I hope they ate the city guards first,’ said Hazine, frowning hard over her shoulder and in the direction of Keen.

‘I’m sure they did,’ said Wither with a strange look for the girl.

‘I’m glad.’

‘Is there any chance anyone escaped?’ Myral wondered why she had accepted Adal’s request, and how she was ever going to achieve it? What exactly is it I am supposed to achieve anyway? He’s lost the vampires. Save him somehow? From what? What good will that do anybody with vampires ravaging the world?

‘Yes,’ said Wither, and just as she was getting her hopes up, he added, ‘you two did. It is unlikely they will leave the city for a couple of days. When they do, they will head on to the next one. Other groups will follow in time, all going in different directions.’

‘Where are you taking us?’ asked Myral uncertain if it was worth the bother going anywhere after what he’d just told them.

‘In the opposite direction.’

‘Not what I meant and you know it.’

He laughed. ‘You haven’t changed, have you? No, I am pleased. I’ve thought of you often since our last meeting. It does my heart good to see you alive and well. There is a place of refuge ahead where I hope you will be safe, at least for a time.’

‘Doesn’t sound like you are going to remain with us? You’re going to keep following them, aren’t you? Or are you going back to wherever this Wormwood is?’

‘It has nothing to do with you.’

Myral stomped ahead of him, turned, and blocked his path. ‘It has everything do to with me and you bloody well know it too. I see it in that sly smirk of yours.’

‘What is going on?’ asked Hazine, looking scared and confused.

‘You had what I needed,’ said Wither, staring her down, jaw set with a determined look. ‘I never asked for any of it, but in the heat of the moment it was there and I took it.’

‘My magic.’

‘You do realise Myral, I cannot return it to you.’

‘It wasn’t yours to take. You’re nothing but a thief. You betrayed me.’

For a long moment, Wither simply stared back, his expression unreadable.

‘You had magic?’ asked Hazine, wide-eyed. ‘You’re a, a ...’

Myral felt irritated and angry. What was it she wanted anyway? Revenge? She broke eye contact with him, and glancing at the girl, shook her head. ‘No, I’m not a viral. Do I look like one, Hazi?’

‘I heard the Icarthian imperatrix, the one who died, she could hide it ... but, I guess you’re not undead. I mean, you’d know if you were, right?’

‘There’s another type of magic in the world,’ said Myral, her irritation growing. ‘One gifted to mortals by the angels themselves, long ago.’

Wither laughed. ‘There are many types, but you have no clue about such things. Like your mother, you never did. You were toying with something you couldn’t control.’

‘You know nothing of my mother and less about me. Speaking of control, how’ve things been going with your vampiric friends?’

‘Childish and pathetic,’ he muttered in Icarthian, turning his back to her.

Silence followed, with the only sound being the wind and an annoying grinding of teeth, which she realised was coming from the girl.

‘They are my responsibility, it is true,’ said Wither, before turning back and shoving past her. ‘My inheritance, and I must find a way to regain it. First, I will see you both to Hades.’

‘I’ve never heard of the place,’ said Myral, having no choice but to follow. Well, maybe she did have choices, but no decent ones. Kicking him didn’t seem like a plan. It might have felt good, though.

‘I know of it,’ said Hazine. ‘It is the land of the undead. The place I told you about. Your friend is right. We will be safe there.’

Perhaps, thought Myral as they trudged onwards, but for how long? One thing was for certain, she couldn’t let Wither out of her sight. Not for one solitary minute, because if she did, neither she, Hazine, nor the rest of the world would survive the vampires.