Immortal dark, p.7
Immortal Dark, page 7
Her socked feet plunged into chilled water, and she dug her fingers into the dragon-hide tiles, trying to break her fall. The gutter had stopped her, and the collected rain seeped into her. There was also something slimy, which she refused to think of, brushing against her ankle.
Kidan, along with her blanket, was on the roof.
The roof.
“Help!” she called, but it was too soft. Her heart was beating inside her throat.
How had Susenyos managed to do all this without waking her? She would never sleep again.
She braced herself and called out louder, “Help! Someone, please!”
Kidan dared a glance down and saw her books and clothes scattered all over the front yard. She would be livid if she weren’t so terrified.
Then a miracle happened. A girl wearing a checkered dress and cream-white sweater stumbled onto the path. She had some of Kidan’s things gathered in her hands, and it seemed she had followed the trail here.
Her curly-haired head tilted upward. “I know the stars are lovely at night, but aren’t you cold up there?”
It drew Kidan in slowly, the innocent lilt to the girl’s voice. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to dislodge it from her mind. It was easier in her apartment, to cut off the world and avoid the temptation to rescue pretty, helpless things. Through her window, morning and afternoon, she’d track her neighbors, skin itching, wondering if they’d make it home safe to their families. If they were late even by an hour, Kidan tortured herself imagining a shadowy figure feasting on them, that she’d let it happen again.
In every defenseless human, she saw her. June. Shy smile and honeyed eyes, trusting nature. And the painful urge to protect rose like a violent tide, devoid of reason. Like now.
Kidan searched for a way that wouldn’t lead her to the girl, but she could see none.
“Check the shed for a ladder,” Kidan managed. “Hurry.”
The girl spotted the garden shed. She disappeared and returned with a ladder. It took Kidan a great deal of effort to remove her leg from the gutters and find the top step. Once she had the comfort of the solid steel under her, she breathed and climbed down.
Kidan gathered her things into her bag, eyes on the ground, ears warming.
“I’m Ramyn, by the way. Your tour guide? We were supposed to meet an hour ago.”
Kidan shut her eyes. Of course she’d forgotten. “Right, sorry.”
The girl hesitated. “It’s okay. I’m not really supposed to be here. If you didn’t mention seeing me, that would be great. My family lives close by. I just come here to watch the… house sometimes.”
That gave Kidan pause. She faced her fully, taking in her large eyes and light brown skin, the glittering septum piercing shaped like a flower. How odd. Watching houses was for those uninvited, unwanted, and Kidan wanted to know why Ramyn watched. But she forced herself to turn her back, breaking the spell.
“Do you want a raspberry candy?” Ramyn’s lips were already slightly pink from the sweet.
“No, thanks, Ramyn. Can we do this tomorrow?”
Ramyn was not really listening. In fact, she seemed in a world of her own, walking toward the front door.
“Why are you sleeping on the roof?”
“I wasn’t sleeping there by choice.” Kidan gritted her teeth. “My house dranaic did this.”
Ramyn’s eyes widened. “Is… is he here?”
“Who? Susenyos?”
“Yes.” Ramyn swallowed, and Kidan tensed.
“Do you know him?”
“Only by name.” Ramyn chuckled, but it was an odd sound. Her thick, expressive brows shot upward. “But if you’re Kidan Adane…, where have you been this whole time?”
“I grew up… somewhere else, in another town.”
“And your house dranaic doesn’t want you?” Ramyn’s voice strained. “Why?”
“Who cares? They’re all vile.”
She gaped. “How can you speak about them like that? Aren’t you trying to be his companion?”
Kidan was having a hard time answering her questions. She was studying the girl’s pinched expression. Ramyn rambled on, now a nervous ball of energy.
“It’s silly, isn’t it? All these years, waiting until we’re older to meet them at the Introductory Dinner, and when we finally do, it’s… not what we expect. What I’m trying to say is, it’s important to make a good impression, you know? You’ll be working with them, well, for a long time if you’re lucky.”
Kidan saw her opportunity. Ramyn was distracted, gnawing on her bottom lip.
“Thank you for helping. I need to go.”
Kidan hurried into the house and closed the door. She parted the curtains carefully to watch the girl. Ramyn frowned, then walked off by herself, her nose ring twinkling in the pocket of sun that seemed to appear over her head.
Susenyos strolled by then, shirt opened at the collar, same book in hand as the day they met. Ebid Fiker—that was the book’s title. It was Amharic, but she still made note of it.
“Ah, there you are. I thought I heard rats on the roof. Someone should really clean out those gutters.”
“I could have died,” she said, seething.
“A touch dramatic. You would have fractured a bone at best. But death by falling is such an uninspired end for you.”
His eyes darkened at those words, sliding to her exposed throat. Kidan’s nightshirt was loose, its neck cut wide. Disgust pulsed through Kidan.
“Stay away from Etete,” he warned, making her eyes crease.
“Why? Afraid I’ll discover the law?”
“Great and worthy heirs and heiresses are able to read a written law the first moment they enter the house. Reading a law is the easiest part of this process.” His cruel grin stretched. “Yet here you are, unable to. Why should I be afraid?”
Kidan’s eyes fell a little before her jaw hardened. “I must be getting close, though. Why else stoop to a childish prank?”
He raised an eyebrow, his expression brightening. “You’re judging my attacks now? Perhaps I should get more inventive.”
She lifted her gathered things higher to cover her neck and tracked wet marks to the stairs, her socks squelching.
After she touched the first step, she paused, voice colder than ice. “You will bring down my things by the time I leave the shower, or you’ll be the one sleeping outside.”
“Is that a command?” Susenyos spoke very carefully, and it occurred to her that he was managing himself as well.
She faced him. “Yes. I like the laws of this place. And the law says a dranaic that physically hurts a human will suffer great consequences—”
“Wait, I did not touch you—”
Kidan slammed her head into the stairway wall. Sparks danced in her vision, but she fought through it, wanting to capture his shock in every frame of her mind—and God, was it delicious.
She would have a bruise clear as day tomorrow, but finally the vampire understood who he was dealing with. Kidan walked away, blood trickling down her forehead but smiling nonetheless. When she reached the top of the stairs, she snuck one more triumphant glance, but the sight chilled her to the bone.
Susenyos Sagad crouched low, touching the few drops of her blood and bringing them close to his lips. Their eyes locked, hers wide with horror, his eclipsed by hunger.
“You bleed red, little bird. I’d think it was black with that hatred of yours.”
Kidan rushed to her room, locked the door, and breathed against it. She traced along her forehead and winced. The cut was deeper than she had intended, the blood running down her fingers.
Slow footsteps echoed closer, making her body seize. He didn’t open her door, but his shadow flickered under the slit. Her heart pumped painfully.
He shuffled, and a solid black line stretched on her floor. Was he… sitting out there? A cap twisted, and the sound of drinking traveled.
His voice was rough and angry. “You’re making the whole house reek. You need to stop bleeding.”
She gritted her teeth. “Sure, I’ll get right on that.”
This time, the voice was quieter, almost a breath. “Hurry.”
“House Ajtaf and House Adane, older than all, one was the hand of tradition; the other, legacy. House Ajtaf took wood and stone and built their way from mud huts to flat-roofed houses to buildings that tore into skyscrapers, onward to the future. House Adane took its elders, gathered them around a fire, listened and carved history, dug at the earth, and burrowed into the past.
One built itself a golden throne; the other buried itself in caves. They are the Gold House and the Dirt House.”
—History of the Acti Houses
By Yohannes Afera
The Gold House bastards never concerned themselves with us, but for the past few years they’ve wanted to play in the dirt. Ajtaf House wants to buy our Axum Archaeological Project, begun many years ago to discover the Last Sage’s old settlement. Your parents have refused to sell; so have I. It is the only thing we’re in complete agreement on. Ajtaf House will continue to pressure you, but do not be swayed.
KIDAN HAD A STALKER. SHE WHIRLED AROUND FOR THE SECOND TIME that day as she walked on campus, finding a dark-haired boy in black clothes standing by the trees, watching her. Her scalp prickled with the possibilities—he could be the messenger who had brought Aunt Silia’s journal, he could know about June, he could be a reporter. He disappeared into the morning crowd of shuffling students before she could find out.
She shook her head, probably being paranoid. Not for the first time, she fiddled with the bronze pin on her sleeve. House Adane’s sigil was two mountains eclipsing each other. Kidan guessed it was an homage to their archaeological past. She wanted to take it off, avoid anything linking her to him, but Dean Faris had said it was mandatory. Bronze pins for new initiates, silver for those who graduate Dranacti, and gold for those who’ve mastered their houses.
All students and vampires of Uxlay displayed their house sigils with a pin either worn on the sleeve or secured to the chest. Kidan found herself tracking students’ arms or shirts, playing a game of matching who belonged to who, learning the symbols.
“Adane! Help up here!”
Ramyn’s black, low-heeled shoes dangled from a high tree branch. Her red plaid skirt was paired with a simple white shirt, and her stockings were torn. A pastel bag with a Save the Wild Foxes badge remained under the tree.
Kidan whispered under her breath. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
She considered walking away and alerting someone else, but the seeming impossibility of finding Ramyn in a similar situation as hers rooted her to the spot.
Kidan rubbed her temple. “What happened?”
Ramyn laughed nervously. “You know how I told you a dranaic and an acti should have a good relationship? I told my house dranaic about what happened to you, you know, as a joke to break the ice, because she doesn’t like me very much. I said at least she didn’t put me on the roof, because I’m terrified of heights. Then she invited me for a walk and… she put me up here.”
The creature inside Kidan’s belly extended its claws in fury.
“Are you going to report this?” Kidan asked.
“No, no, it’s fine.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t want to cause trouble.” Ramyn looked down and quickly fixed her gaze straight ahead.
Kidan had many questions. The most obvious was why were the humans afraid of the dranaics if the dean preached so much about peace.
“There’s no ladder, Ramyn. You’ll have to get down without one.”
Ramyn shook her head firmly. “That’s okay. I’ll just stay here.”
“I’ll coach you through it. I’m not leaving until you get down.”
Ramyn didn’t move. Kidan remembered what she used to do with June whenever she was afraid. A game of finding something worse to take the fear away. Kidan studied the stack of books spilling out of the pastel bag.
“Look, Ramyn, today is my first day for Introduction to Dranacti and I can’t be late. I’m sure you don’t want to be either.”
Ramyn’s eyes swept downward to the books.
“So let’s go, okay? Before we fail for being late.”
Reluctantly, Ramyn agreed. They took it slow. Finding her footing on the bark proved hard, so Kidan instructed her to take her shoes off. With her ribbed stockings serving as extra grip, Ramyn scaled down, blowing curly hair out of her face when she finally reached grass.
“Thank you. Thank you.” She hugged the ground.
Kidan shook her head in amusement and helped her up.
“What happened to your face?” Ramyn frowned, worry filling her eyes.
“Oh.” Kidan touched her forehead. It had hurt but did what it was supposed to do. Susenyos had barely glanced her way since then. “I hurt myself forcing open a stuck door.”
They entered the sprawling courtyard, and Kidan stretched her neck, taking in the old buildings.
“I guess I could give you a tour on the way,” Ramyn said.
“There’s no need.”
The girl dimmed. “But I practiced.”
Kidan stifled a sigh. “Fine.”
Ramyn beamed, fishing out something from her bag. “Also, here. Your full schedule and course list.”
Kidan took the paper.
Uxlay University
Semester 1
Student: Kidan Adane
House: House Adane, Department of Archaeology and History
Course List
East Africa and the Undead, School of History
Introduction to Dranacti, School of Philosophy
Mythology and Modernity, School of Philosophy
Texts Required
Migration: A Dranaic History by Nardos Tesfa
Introduction to Dranacti by Demasus and the Last Sage
Black Gods and Their Children by Wesfin Alama
“There are many departments in Uxlay but the Department of Arts has four branches. The School of Art, School of History, School of Languages and Linguistics, and School of Philosophy. Together, they form the Arat Towers,” Ramyn explained, stopping in the middle of the grassy court.
She pointed to the towers boxing the lush field, each located at one corner of the huge square.
“They were designed to indicate time and schedule. For decades, Uxlay’s art students followed Resar’s education circle. When the sun faced the first tower, of the School of Languages and Linguistics, students filed into the building for its teachings. They would be there until the School of History’s tower lit up, and then they’d move on to the next ones in turn. Resar said philosophy had to be held at dusk—only after the mind was supplied with the appropriate sustenance of art, literature, divination, and history could it engage in insightful discussions.”
If Kidan squinted just right, she could fool herself into thinking she was attending a normal place of education, with normal human beings.
But her first glimpse of the dranaics on campus snuffed out that hope. They emerged in groups from the Southern Sost Buildings, which were identifiable by their black iron gates and spine-curling spikes. Dean Faris had made it very clear humans were prohibited from those three buildings without invitation, and trespassing there was cause for expulsion.
One of the vampires Kidan instantly recognized from her first day. She was still dressed like a gentleman of high society, strikingly beautiful. Her name was… Iniko. One of Susenyos’s friends. The dranaic slid Kidan a deathly gaze.
Kidan matched it with her own hard stare, wishing she had a weapon. Her skin itched with how powerless she felt. She thought about the Last Sage’s Three Binds keeping the vampires in check. Her lips twisted upward. They were also powerless. Fairy tales and myths had always been more June’s thing, though, which was why Kidan made her that three-pointed charm. Her stomach tightened. She had to get that bracelet back.
Iniko flashed her teeth at them. At Ramyn, to be exact.
“Do you know her?” Kidan asked.
Ramyn averted her gaze. “She’s one of my house dranaics. She’s the one who put me up the tree.”
“You could have been seriously injured.”
“It was my fault anyway,” Ramyn said, walking fast toward the School of Philosophy. Kidan followed. In certain moments, Ramyn seemed so much like June, weak and waiting to be taken. Kidan clenched her jaw. The humans of this place were surrounded by wolves.
The School of Philosophy glinted in the afternoon haze as students climbed its stairs. Kidan shared the elevator with nervous students, then kept her distance from them until they reached Room 31. Ramyn disappeared when she got called over by some smiling girls, leaving Kidan to enter alone.
The classroom was as dead as an old photograph. It featured seven windows with glass drenched in sepia tint, all dimmed as if they were in mourning. At least forty desks and chairs were placed in concentric circles, and in the middle of it all waited a funeral of a man.
The only indication of life on Professor Andreyas was his cornrowed hair. Four thick lines falling neatly across his scalp before reaching his mid-back, fastened by a black clasp. Hair implied growth, some humanness. Yet, as he surveyed the students with a quiet regality only found in ancient paintings, Kidan retracted that thought. Humanness had no place in this room.
“I see many of you did not take my advice to pursue other subjects.” Displeasure fit itself well around his voice.
All the chairs were occupied, and all their occupants shifted and squirmed.
Kidan wanted to disappear into the back, but it was already taken. The high windows and their muted brown color minimized the effect of the sun, making the desks cold to the touch.
