Chapter Six

A Wound and a Curse

“You really think this is a good idea?” Ayduin asked.

Ruslan tucked his sleeve further over his bandaged wrist. “The Sage says she’s stable enough for travel.”

“Physically, perhaps, but she’s still a vampire, Ruslan.”

“Trust me, I’m well aware,” he said, “I’ve made sure she’s had something to eat already, so we shouldn’t have any issues with her out in public. And if we do, you and I should be more than enough to subdue her if she gets out of hand.”

“I wasn’t planning on wrestling another vampire tonight,” she muttered.

“You won’t have to. You only have to help entertain one.”

She shot him a withering glare. “Forgive me if I’m not enthusiastic about what that might entail.”

“She’s been pleasant, thus far,” he said, “I can’t imagine she’ll be as unruly as Ezra.”

“I certainly hope not.”

To be fair, neither of them had a benchmark from which to measure. Vampires were a shady type that rarely strayed beyond their continent. Ezra had been an outlier, of course, but even she hadn’t gone on a mass killing spree the moment she set foot on Keldran soil. He had no reason to believe Inerys would either. Though she’d left the general public alone, he’d seen what had become of those who had contested the Matriarch’s flight south. His skin prickled at the memory. Some had been reduced to little more than fine sprays of red mist.

If Ayduin hadn’t approved of his plan, she would have knocked him upside the head by now for being a fool. He understood her reservations, of course, for he still held a few of his own. After all, their first real encounter with the species hadn’t been a pleasant one. Speaking with a vampire via courier or wordstone was one thing, but seeing them in the flesh was another. Something about them unnerved his very Soul, to the point that when the young woman had growled, he’d nearly drawn a blade on her on instinct. A certain measure of guilt lingered from the encounter. As much as it pained him to admit, on some subconscious level, he had been waiting for a reason to strike her down.

However, what had happened to her was an accident. He had to remind himself that she hadn’t become what she was willingly. It had been his own failure.

“How much are you planning to tell her?” Ayduin asked.

“As much as I can,” he said, “best she knows what she’s dealing with going forward. I’ve yet to reach out to the Patriarch, but I intend to tomorrow. With luck, I’ll have a better idea of what to disclose and what to omit.”

“Word of a vampire in Kresia will spread. Especially if we take her out into the city,” she warned.

“I know. I only- I’m at a loss. If we turn her over to the Court, they might execute her outright and if we keep her locked up and hidden, it’s likely she won’t trust anyone.”

A lone, paranoid vampire was a dangerous thing, he knew.

“We don’t exactly have a choice, Ruslan. If we were operating on our own, we may be able to get away with it, but we aren’t.”

He sighed. She was right, of course. “The Council will likely have us swear our testimonies under oath.”

If they did, their Souls would compel them to speak the truth regardless and then, there would be no hiding Inerys even if they tried. No, he would have to disclose her existence, as well as the circumstances surrounding her inheritance. Consequences be what they may, he’d have to accept them.

~*~

This mug smelled different from the last, but Inerys forced herself to down it all the same. She found herself strangely disappointed. The blood the apprentice had brought her lacked the same spice, the same power, as the last and she found herself craving something more substantial. While her spirit wasn’t particularly satisfied, she sensed it was content enough. For now, it would have to do.

“Thank you,” she said to the apprentice, who promptly deposited a fresh set of clothes upon the bed.

The woman’s heartbeat spiked, reminding Inerys of a frightened hare caught in a snare. Her posture was stiff and she appeared ready to bolt if Inerys so much as sneezed in her direction. She frowned, shifting uncomfortably on her feet as she set the mug aside. Was she really so terrifying?

The apprentice turned and gave a short bow. “Your ladyship,” she said.

Uncertain of what else to do, Inerys returned the gesture. People here were far more formal than they were among the Seven Cities. She feared she might inadvertently offend someone.

The woman shuffled off and once she was beyond the threshold of the living quarters, all but sprinted back down the hall. Inerys sighed, her gaze lingering upon the open door a moment before she turned her attention to the pile of fresh linen. If she evoked such a response from everyone she came across, perhaps she really was better off alone. As it was, she had half a mind to sneak out of her quarters and set off on her own. The only problem being the current state of her Soul.

As much as it pained her, she needed help in order to repair the damage. The Shackles wouldn’t hold forever, nor did she have the knowledge to advance herself. A few days ago, she hadn’t even known such a thing were possible. The sorcerers had always been a secretive sort, perhaps they possessed similar knowledge. She imagined they did. How else could their magic be explained?

Thankfully, a pair of long black socks did wonders to hide the luminous skin of her lower extremities. Now, if only she had something for her hands. The sleeves of her tunic could only be pulled down so far. She frowned down at the faint blue light thrown off by her fingers, then tried shoving them into her pockets, to little avail. Perhaps she could convince Ruslan to purchase a pair of gloves as part of her provisions. The glowing fractals weren’t natural, she’d gathered that much, and were likely to draw unwanted attention.

She ran a hand through her foreign locks. Where once her hair had been a muddled shade of lighter blonde, they were silvery with a few rogue strands of black sprinkled throughout. It was curlier than she remembered, though still fell just shy of her collarbone. With a resigned sigh, she fashioned it into a braid.

As she finished tying off the end, she heard footsteps rounding the staircase outside. She smoothed the front of her sable tunic, a simple yet elegant garment, even if it didn't quite fit right around her waist or through the shoulders. For the time being, she could live with it. She was grateful to have proper clothes again in the first place. The thin shift she had been subject to before left her exposed and practically naked.

The twin footsteps turned down the hall. They were lighter and more measured than those of the apprentices. A curious thing she would have never noticed, were she still human. She peeked out from her bedroom before she fully emerged, just as Ruslan appeared in the doorway of the living quarters. He offered a half smile, bowing his head. The woman beside him, whom Inerys had never seen before, mirrored the gesture, yet absent the smile. Her skin was more silver than it was grey and her eyes were a gold-rimmed shade of rosy pink. The two dark elves shared the same dark hair and refined features, though the woman’s countenance held a more calculated, reserved edge and she eyed Inerys with no small amount of suspicion.

“Inerys, this is my partner Ayduin. She’ll be joining us tonight.”

Inerys had almost forgotten her manners. “It’s good to meet you.”

The woman inclined her head. “Lady Inerys.”

Her cheeks heated. As far as she was concerned, she was the farthest thing from. She’d never borne a title in her life, nor had she any desire to.

“Are you ready?” Ruslan asked.

“As I’ll ever be,” she said, resisting the urge to wring her hands.

Having noticed, Ruslan smirked and pulled something from his pocket.

“These might help,” he said.

“You’re a lifesaver,” she breathed.

Accepting the pair of worn gloves, she slipped them over her fingers and flexed her hands. A thread of tension left her shoulders and for a moment, she felt some measure of normalcy. She pulled down her sleeves and carefully tucked in the edges of the gloves. She nodded to herself. With luck, she’d raise fewer questions this way.

Nodding, she followed the pair down the hall and up the wide spiral staircase. As she ascended the stairs, she ran a hand along the intricate floral carvings of the inner wall. She couldn’t recall noticing them before. Although, she hadn’t been fully coherent when she’d followed the Sage down into the lower levels. She hummed to herself, admiring the delicacy of the stone inlays until they reached the ground level.

Cool, fresh air caressed her skin as the doors were thrown open. She felt as though she’d stepped out of her own grave with the moon poised to greet her from its throne among the stars. It was a clear, cloudless night, the like of which was rare among the Seven Cities. She felt oddly exposed as a result. She couldn’t recall a single night where the mists did not linger in some capacity. Here, she could see everything.

And everything could see her.

Around her, white stone and flora abounded in a great, wide circle. The Tower grounds reminded Inerys of a six-pointed crown. Long, elegant arches linked the smaller outer towers to one another while the central spire commanded the heart of the complex. Straight, clear paths of pale stone shown bright beneath the starlight, guiding her through raised garden beds of carefully managed herbs.

Each intersection was marked by a pair of tall, neatly trimmed trees laden with pearly, opalescent fruit. They appeared to be some sort of apple, yet Inerys had never encountered such a variety. Like everything else in the garden, they brimmed with power. Within them, she sensed untapped magic, ripe for the taking. She wondered if the spice found within them might soothe her spirit where the blood had failed. She had a feeling it would, though couldn’t bring herself to pick one as she passed beneath the branches.

Every now and again, she caught the rhythmic flutter of lunar moths as they flew from one blossom to the next, distracting her from the pungent scent of chamomile and valerian. Curiously, she found the herbs and earthen scents far more bearable than she’d anticipated. They were calming where just about everything else overwhelmed her. She almost feared venturing out into the streets. Night had fallen, yes, but there were still plenty of passers by outside the complex grounds.

“Everything all right?” Ayduin asked.

Blinking, Inerys glanced in their direction and realized she’d stopped dead in her tracks.

“Oh, yes, I’m fine,” she said, hurrying up the path, “forgive me, I was only admiring the gardens.”

“Impressive, aren’t they?” Ruslan said.

“I don’t think I’ve seen anything quite like them,” she admitted.

He chuckled. “The Sage’s tower is often called The Gem of the South.”

“I can see why,” she said, then paused. “How far south are we?”

“We’re near the southernmost edge of the Keldran Empire. Though we’re close to seventy leagues north of where we found you in the Wilds,” he said.

“Give or take,” Ayduin added.

Inerys’ mouth grew dry. Seventy leagues? They’d come so far? She wondered how long it had taken them to bring her here in the first place.

“I see,” she said, voice faint.

“Come, we should find you some proper clothes while we have the chance,” he said.

Inerys was inclined to agree. Her pants were far too baggy for her liking and a hair too long. She wasn’t exactly a short woman, at least among humans, but she hardly came up to Ayduin’s shoulder. Who happened to be half a head shorter than her male counterpart. Beside them, she felt like a child.

During their exploits throughout the city, Inerys kept largely to herself. Between the ambient noise of the city and the barrage of foreign scents, it was a wonder she’d made it through their errands at all. Most kept their distance from the trio, whether it was a result of the two uniformed dark elves, or her presence, she couldn’t tell. The few glances she’d caught were met with wide eyes or frantic murmurings resulting in hasty departures. Clearly, vampires weren’t a common sight.

Or a welcomed one.

She wondered why Ruslan and the Sage had been so tolerant of her. His partner watched her with a measured eye even now, surely he felt some measure of discomfort in her presence as well? If he did, he gave no outward indication and for that, she was thankful. It was nice to have at least one person still treat her with some measure of decency.

He struck up small conversations here and there, though nothing beyond pleasantries or what pertained to the situation. So, they went about their business in relative silence and within the hour, Inerys found herself in possession of a new cloak, boots and a few sets of clothing more befitting her frame. She had insisted on muted tones of grey and blue reminiscent of what she had worn to better suit the gloomy mists of the wilds. The cloth was of a higher quality than what she’d been able to afford among the city states, but she had chosen styles that were less than remarkable, even if she had been tempted to indulge in something more extravagant.

Adjusting her new cloak, a fine garment of slate grey similar to the one she’d lost, she set aside her daydreams and surveyed the streets ahead.

“Where are we off to now?”

“To the Talhavar branch of operations here in the city,” Ruslan replied. “If I recall, we still owe you some answers.”

Indeed they did.

Luckily, the garrison resided in the same district as the Sages Tower and up ahead, she made out a tall, thick structure against the backdrop of stars. It was not quite as tall as the Tower, but was twice as thick, if not more. In a way, it resembled the chopped stump of some mammoth tree. In fact, as they drew closer, Inerys was fairly certain it’s exactly what it was. She gaped. She’d seen trees of abnormal height within the depths of the Endari Wilds, but none like this.

Though the great stump comprised a majority of the military installation, it was surrounded by a tall stone wall. Inerys sensed a power set within, but couldn't make heads or tails of it. She could sense the presence of magic, but lacked the ability to distinguish one form from another. Being that it was a building of some importance, she surmised whatever magic within somehow reinforced the perimeter.

Those in uniform milled about or tended various posts along the grounds. None of which questioned her or her escort upon their entry. She breathed a shallow sigh of relief when they veered left once inside. The various arches and vaulted ceilings were hewn from the ancient stump itself, though the wood had long since turned to stone. It was polished in places where shades of red and pink swirled among duller tones of brown and off white. Long banners of indigo blue hung from the far wall beyond the entryway, bearing a variation of the insignia present on the back of Ayduin and Ruslan’s uniforms.

She was ushered into a lift that was far more sophisticated than anything she’d seen among the Seven Cities. Had they taken the stairs instead, Inerys wasn’t sure she would have survived. She’d lost count of the number of flights they passed after the twenty mark. When the lift finally came to a halt, Inerys released a shaky breath. Her knees were weak and she felt a bit dizzy, if she were being honest. There was a subtle, sickening quality to the lift’s ascension she’d never quite experienced, a hollowness to her gut.

“This is the guest wing,” Ruslan said, leading her down the corridor and around the corner, “It's often reserved for those of diplomatic importance. The general public is rarely allowed beyond the ground level unless they’re otherwise employed.”

Diplomatic importance . . .she wasn’t quite sure what to make of that.

She hooked her lower lip with a fang as she was led into what appeared to be a private study. A comfortable seating area laid off to one side, the main desk and corresponding bookshelves residing on the other. In a way, it was too clean, too impersonal to belong to anyone in particular.

“Why bring me here, then?”

He and Ayduin shared a look, an unspoken conversation passing between them. Then, he gestured toward one of the chairs. Hesitantly, she took a seat, eyeing the pair all the while.

“Because your very existence is about to become a matter of intercontinental significance, Inerys.”