The last volari, p.26
The Last Volari, page 26
I leaned back from her, letting her go. I could see the anger in her eyes, but she held herself still, not lunging for me with her teeth or the knives I knew she’d hidden in her gown. Instead she raised one hand, holding it out to Trevin, who stopped a sword length away.
‘What has happened?’ she said, her voice perfectly calm.
‘I wasn’t cursed. Neither was my father.’ I leaned back in her chair, my armour brushing her gown, ignoring her predatory stillness. ‘Arvan used some kind of necromantic poison on us both. He did it for Takora, promising that he’d destroy us and our kingdom in exchange for an escape from Celasian’s attack. And because he couldn’t stand not being Kastelai.’ I picked up one of the cushions that covered Jirrini’s throne and spun it in my hands. It was amazingly soft. ‘Arvan betrayed my father, and me. He broke his promises to us and was a traitor to the Rose Throne. So I drained him of every drop of blessed blood he had and destroyed him. The way I’ll destroy anyone else seeking to betray me or my throne.’
However cautious Jirrini could be, she was no coward. She faced me when she spoke. ‘Your throne. You claim an inheritance that none of us recognise. If you want to call your maker Father, that was between you and him. But we’re not mortals, and we don’t pass power that way. You had a chance to prove your worth, and you failed when Magdalena beat you.’
My blood flowed faster, but I kept my anger in check. ‘Lady Magdalena has pledged herself to me, and acknowledged me queen. You’ll do the same. Now, or when you lie at my feet after I’ve cut you down.’
‘Is that it then?’ Jirrini drew herself up. ‘Obey you, or face you in challenge?’
‘Is that not the way of the Kastelai?’ I said softly.
‘No.’ She shook her head. ‘You’ve been with us for over a century, and you still don’t understand our traditions. You’ve the mind of a child, and the understanding of one. We didn’t battle to determine that Corsovo would be king. We chose him. Because we knew he’d be the best among us to do it, to hold us together. You might be a great fighter, but you’re no leader. The only thing I would get in pledging my blood to you is the chance to be burned on one of Celasian’s pyres.’
My hands were on my sword hilts, ready to show her what kind of death her refusal would earn her. But I heard my mother’s voice in my head, and I didn’t draw. Instead I spoke, my voice a whisper between us.
‘Remember the ravine, Lady Jirrini. Remember when you fell there, fighting the orruks.’
‘What do you know of that?’ Her voice was almost as quiet as mine, but there was a thread of fear laced deep within it. ‘That happened before Corsovo brought you to the Crimson Keep.’
‘Mother told me. About how she thought you were dead until she heard your screams. About how they spent hours digging you out from under dead orruks.’
‘She told you that story?’
‘Not before she died,’ I said. ‘After, though…’
‘You’re mad,’ she hissed. ‘A mad child, pretending to be queen.’
‘I’m not pretending anything,’ I told her. ‘But I am mad. I am furious, and I am your queen, and you and your house owe me your service and I will have it.’ I made myself go quiet again, my words just for her. ‘I need the blood you’ve hoarded here, Lady Jirrini, and I need your Knights of Plenty. The supplies I can take, but the knights are loyal to you. If I challenge you and kill you, they may not serve me. So, I’ll do as my mother suggests and use diplomacy. You can fulfil the oaths you gave to the Rose Throne and keep your honour. Or you can refuse, and I will challenge you, and beat you. But I won’t kill you. I’ll bury you in one of these caves instead.’
Her eyes were wide, and a spark of red burned in their depths. Terrified and furious. ‘You wouldn’t–’
‘I’ll bury you,’ I said again, ‘and tell your people that when we win, they can go dig you out. They’ll fight for me then, because they’ll be fighting for you.’
‘You’ll die, and–’
‘I won’t,’ I said. ‘You’ll be dug out in a few days. That’s not so long, though it is longer than you were trapped in that ravine. Buried alive, crushed in darkness, alone and screaming.’
Her hand moved towards a fold of her gown, and my hand was on hers, holding it still. I could see the glint of the blade she’d grasped. ‘Is this your challenge, Lady Jirrini? Are we going to fight?’ I pulled the blade out of her hand, held it up between us, a sharp sliver of metal. ‘I’ve told you how that ends. With you buried. Waiting.’
Jirrini glared at the blade, but the red spark in her eyes was fading, her mouth twisting into a frown of frustration. ‘I am not challenging you.’
‘Then you’re pledging yourself to me.’ I stood and flipped the knife towards Trevin, who plucked it out of the air. ‘And you’re not dying on a spear. We’re going to take those mortals apart, show them that the Broken Plains belong to the Kastelai.’
‘So you say.’ Jirrini looked at me. ‘What does Vasara say?’
I listened to my mother, and buried my smile. ‘She says what do you care? You never liked her.’
‘I never did. I feared her. All those monsters in the Crimson Keep, and I feared her.’ Jirrini stood, looking into my eyes. Peering, as if she could see through them, like windows. ‘You’re probably mad. But if she is in there… then maybe.’
She turned and looked at Trevin. ‘Get the rest of the house. I have to pledge myself.’
‘Maybe what?’ I asked, as he bowed and strode away.
‘Maybe Celasian will be the one to burn.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
I watched Jirrini lead her house out of Splitrock, a line of Nightmare-mounted vampires armoured in scarlet and gold, carrying banners showing roses and blood-filled cups.
‘Impressive,’ Rill said, moving up beside me, ignoring the low growl Rend gave her.
It was. The Knights of Plenty were greater in number than the Rose Knights. Especially now, after Arvan’s betrayal. But…
Not enough.
‘Not enough,’ I echoed. ‘So we get more.’
‘Salvera.’ Rill said the name as if it hurt her mouth. ‘What are you going to do with him? Whisper in his ear, like you did with Jirrini, and convince him not to be a bloody monster?’
‘No,’ I said, then reached out with my magic to Rend, to Thorn and to Rill’s Nightmare. I moved their hearts and gifted them the speed we’d need to cross the plains in a night and a day. ‘Just the opposite.’
Bite Harbour had been a ruin since long before we arrived on the Broken Plains, an ancient keep half tumbled into the sea. Now its crumbling stones were marked with smears of blood, and the cold air spilling from the empty hollow of its entrance reeked of corruption: a stink strong enough to overwhelm the smell of the sea.
We reined in before the ruin, and below us the sea churned, a dark cauldron of waves in the semicircle of the ancient harbour. The docks had fallen apart long ago, and the waves crashed against their skeletal remains, making a sound like thunder.
Sound and stench and growing dark, but none of it mattered. I didn’t need to hear Rend’s warning growl to feel the presence of Salvera’s feral house around us, the touch of their hungry eyes on our throats. They were gathered in the shadows and behind the broken stones, wrapped in their magic and malice, waiting.
Waiting for their master, I was certain.
Are you sure you know what you’re doing? Mother asked, and at the same time Rill whispered, ‘I hope you know what you’re doing.’
‘I know exactly what I’m doing,’ I said as I dismounted Thorn and handed her reins to Rill. She took them, frowning, but led both Nightmares away from the crumbling cliff edge then nocked an arrow. I couldn’t shed Vasara though.
You want to fight, she said as I drew my swords and stepped towards the empty black of the door. So does he. You’re going to have to spill his blood, but after…
She stopped speaking as the shadows around us split and Salvera’s house revealed themselves. Vampires stood on broken walls, clung to battered battlements, hung from arches with clawed, bat-like feet. All were marked with the signs of the beast, their faces twisted into muzzles or stretched out like rats, their bodies covered with fur or scales, their fangs enormous, their nails long claws. They were the children of Salvera’s blood, and if there was a cursed line among the Kastelai of the Broken Plains, it was his. They waited, silent, malevolent, ravenous. A house of monsters, and I wanted them, each and every one.
‘After, they’ll be mine,’ I told her silently. ‘All of them.’ A piece of darkness moved in the gate, becoming a man with the face of a wolf, carrying a scythe coated in rust and gore. ‘Salvera included.’
‘Have you come to surrender, princess?’ Salvera’s voice was a purr, his words smooth despite their passage through the fangs that filled his jaws. ‘To give yourself to me? You should. The strength in my blood might be enough to drive off your curse.’
‘There is no curse,’ I said. ‘Only betrayal, and I’ve been settling that issue, traitor by traitor.’ I stared into the vampire’s rabid eyes. ‘You’re next, Lord Salvera. Give up your pride, your rage, your stupidity, and swear yourself to me, Queen of the Rose Throne, or face my challenge.’
‘Queen of the Rose Throne.’ Salvera didn’t stop circling me like a wolf. ‘Have you already given up on the pretence of holding the throne for your father?’
‘If I can bring back Corsovo, I will,’ I said, turning with him, always facing him. ‘But until then, I rule the Broken Plains, and no mortal or vampire will challenge me.’
He spun on his heel, circling back the other way, yellow eyes on me, each one marked with a red spark. ‘No?’ he asked, his voice still smooth. ‘I brought none of the beasts for you to control this time, princess, no dire wolves or vargheists to turn on me. When you fight me now, you’ll be by yourself. You didn’t do well the last time I saw you fight alone. And Magdalena is nowhere near the fight you’ll find in me.’
I kept moving with him, my blades still held low, easy in my grip. ‘Do you challenge me?’
He stopped his circling and faced me, his scythe gripped in both hands like a grim promise. ‘To surrender, or death.’
‘Fight me, then,’ I said, taking my stance. ‘And make your choice.’
He snarled, his eyes on me, the red in their depths brighter.
Have a care. Salvera is mad, but he is Kastelai, and you’ve touched his pride. He’ll bring forth the beast, and kill himself to cut you down.
‘I know.’ Leaning forwards, I met Salvera’s eyes and pulled back my lips, matching his fanged snarl with my own. ‘I’m counting on it.’
When Salvera came, he came fast. He was a blur of motion, and his scythe cut through the air like a whirlwind, every blow powerful enough to shatter my swords and then cleave me in two. His ferocity matched his strength and I was driven back as Salvera charged forwards, unrelenting. Forced to move away, blocking and weaving as I searched desperately for an opening, I almost forgot that in all his madness Salvera was clever too.
The heel of my boot scraped over the edge of the cliff. The wind howled up from the waves in the harbour far below, whipped my hair around me as Salvera swung again, a great arcing cut that would have bitten through my armour, my flesh and my bones to send me over the edge in pieces. But while the Kastelai was fast, he wasn’t nearly as fast as I was now.
I sprang up, and Salvera’s scythe sliced through the air beneath my boot heels as I slammed a fist down on one of his shoulders. I shoved hard against him, using him to vault through the air as I pushed him towards the edge he’d tried to send me over.
My boots hit the ground and I spun. Salvera stood teetering on the edge, fighting to shift back, and I moved towards him. One kick, and he’d have fallen into the thrashing waters below.
Instead, I grabbed his hair and sent him sprawling as I spun away, my blades raised. ‘What are you playing at, Lord Mad Dog?’ I asked, my voice a purr. ‘I thought this was supposed to be a challenge?’
What are you doing? You can’t play with him like you did Arvan! He’s dangerous!
‘I know,’ I said, as Salvera lunged to his feet. ‘That’s why I’m trying not to kill him.’
Mother never had a chance to answer that. Salvera charged, and we were fighting again, spinning across the damp stone as the other vampires watched. They were waiting for blood. So I gave it to them.
Salvera’s scythe whipped past me and I ducked beneath it, the great blade taking a few strands of my hair as I moved in, not out, so the edge of my dark sword could slide along the outside of the Kastelai’s thigh, below the ragged edge of his rust-and-blood-splotched chain mail. I opened up a cut on his leg and blood sprayed out, thick and cold. Then I was gone before Salvera could bring his scythe back around. But he let go of the weapon with one hand and slashed his claws across my face. They carved furrows across my forehead and nose, just missing my eye. I felt my blood splash out and then the cuts were closing, healing shut in seconds. We both stopped, looking at each other. First blood on both sides, but my wounds were gone already, the only trace of them the blood on Salvera’s nails. He licked it off as he glared at me, and I raised my dark sword to my lips. Then I shook my head and snapped the blade away, sending the blood across the stone.
‘You talk of blood curses?’ I said. ‘When the smell of yours would make an Avengorii retch?’ I saw the red grow in his eyes, and he charged me again before I could even smile.
Ferocity versus speed, we moved in circles across the stone. I felt the touch of his talons, a clipping kick, the hard shock of the handle of his scythe, but never the touch of that great blade. I ducked and weaved and danced and he couldn’t reach me, I was beginning to find his patterns. My blades touched his hands, his neck, his face. I cut him a dozen times. His blood was as dark as the seawater churning below, and the smell of it made me hunger despite my taunting. My heart beat harder, making my blood move, making me fast, and I kept striking, moving, taking only small wounds that closed as fast as they opened.
What are you doing? You can’t keep playing with him!
‘I’m not,’ I whispered. ‘I’m negotiating his surrender.’ I ducked another slash, then slid in and ran the edge of my bright sword along the side of his neck. A little more pressure and I could’ve buried the blade in his flesh, but I pulled it away and flashed my teeth at him. Let him know that I was toying with him. Hurting him, when he couldn’t hurt me, and I could see that the yellow was disappearing from his eyes, iris and pupils swallowed up by red. Now.
‘You call this a challenge?’ I let my pride fill me, my disdain, stood as tall as I could and laughed. ‘This isn’t even a fight.’
The last thin edge of humanity vanished from Salvera’s eyes as crimson overcame them. He threw back his head and howled, the full-throated cry of the beast. He flung his scythe at me, blade whistling as it cut through the air. I ducked, and the gory weapon flew over the cliff and into the sea. Salvera didn’t care. On each finger his claws were lengthening, thickening, and when he threw himself at me he slashed those claws in a blur of savagery.
Now I could block and I did, smashing back his strikes with my blades even though I still had to move with them, to absorb the hideous strength behind them. Every parry opened up wounds on Salvera’s monstrous hands, but the vampire didn’t feel them. He was raging, and he caught my blades in his grip, clutching them tight, not caring about the blood that poured down his arms. He pulled my swords apart, his muzzle opening, fangs flashing as he prepared to drive them into my neck, and that’s when I smashed my magic into him.
I’d felt it before, when I’d touched his mind. Felt how loose his soul was, how thin it had become. Like a beast’s.
I touched him now and felt nothing but the beast in his head. The man that had been Salvera was gone, pushed aside by the animal rage, and that I could dig my magic into. I wrapped my mind around what was left of Salvera’s soul, made my magic into a leash, and jerked it tight.
My bond took Salvera, and it broke him. He let go of my swords and staggered back, howling again, and that howl twisted and deepened as his body warped. The blessed blood, freed by the loss of his humanity, rebuilt Salvera into the shape of the beast. His body changed, his armour and clothes shredding off him as he swelled with muscle. In seconds he looked nothing like a human. He was wolf, he was bat, he was a thing of night and death. He was no longer a vampire but a vargoyle, a leader of the fallen vargheists, and he was mine.
‘You always were a monster, Salvera.’ I walked towards him, and he leaned down, red eyes filled with hate, jaws slavering. But when he tried to lunge for me I squeezed the bond I’d forged between us and he shook his head, bestial rage twisting into confused obedience. ‘But now you’re my monster.’ I looked up from him, his head bowed, then at the silent vampires gathered around. ‘You’re all my monsters, Wolf Knights. And you will swear yourselves to me as your master has done.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The cell was a square barely big enough to lie down in, lit only by a window slit cut high in one wall. The scrap of light slipping in was just enough for me to see the body slumped in the dirty straw covering the floor, but not enough to tell me whether they were man or woman, alive or dead. But as soon as the guards had slammed the door shut behind me, the shadow on the floor stirred.
‘Captain Takora. I’d say it’s good to see you again, but it’s really not.’
‘Lieutenant Galeris.’ I breathed out his name, and I was happy and hideously sad all at once. I carefully slid down the wall to sit, making sure not to touch anything with my aching hands. ‘You’re supposed to be in Maar.’
