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“Just a bit further this way.”
Marlowe cut across what was once a cornfield, its stalks fallen and rotting on the ground, ready for another crop to be planted, but none replanted. She walked with purpose, pulling the group along as if by magnetism. They followed her closely. In the distance, Asp spotted a very large farmhouse with a wide porch, a pair of rocking chairs sitting unused upon it. A crunching sound underfoot startled Asp. She looked down and saw baby cornstalks growing from the ground not far from the farmhouse.
Marlowe scowled. “This has been tended recently. Maybe two weeks ago by the looks of it.” She inspected the farmhouse from a distance and scowled harder. “It’s rundown, but it’s not destroyed. We need to be on guard. This is a recipe for thralls.”
Sash raised a hand. “How do you know that?”
“There were living people here recently,” explained Marlowe. “Recently enough that if there are vampires here, which we expect, they’d have live people to take.”
Asp grimaced. She walked a few paces to a fallen wooden fence and took a foot-long piece of a splintered fence. She drew her knife and began to sharpen it into a pointed stake. Sash and Larkin had magic on their side; Steel-Eyes possessed silver components he’d repurposed into weaponry on the way; and Kast held a burning torch in one hand. But Asp was comparatively unprepared. She hoped that the stake wouldn’t need to come in handy, but also knew that prepared and unnecessary is better than necessary and unprepared.
Marlowe moved her gaze from the farmhouse to the adventurers. “We need someone to go in and scout things out. Stealth is of the utmost importance. Which of you is best at sneaking around?” Though she seemed to be asking the question of everyone, her eyes were on Asp. Quickly, the eyes of Sash, Larkin, Steel-Eyes, and Kast were on her too.
“Me?” cried Asp. “You want me to go in there alone? And you think there’s vampires?”
Marlowe looked carefully at Asp. Then, she moved her eyes to the other adventurers–Kast and Larkin with their large frames, Steel-Eyes covered in metal, Sash with their long-handled trident. Asp could see what Marlowe was saying–her allies were all uniquely prone to causing noise or being seen in one way or another. Marlowe looked to Auberon and down at herself–their bulky, muscular bodies covered in silver tools and weapons. She looked back to Asp and raised an eyebrow that seemed to say, “You want us to go in there to scout?”
Asp sighed. “Fine. But if anything looks especially bad, I’m sprinting out of there as fast as I can, and you all need to back me up.”
“That’s how this works,” replied Marlowe with an unnerving smile, her beautiful face just a bit too pleased to be discussing a life and death situation.
Asp slipped her makeshift wooden stake into her belt next to her dagger. “Am I looking for anything in particular? Aside from vampires, I mean?”
Marlowe smiled in satisfaction. “Signs of vampires more than anything. Dead bodies, definitely. Coverings over windows to keep light out. Coverings over mirrors, too. Anything that would seem off about an abandoned house, really.”
“Okay,” said Asp uneasily. She hesitated a moment before approaching the farmhouse.
“You got this,” said Kast, an encouraging smile on his face.
“Yeah, you got this, Penelope!” added Larkin.
“Thanks,” replied Asp. “I hope so.”
She crouched low and began to slowly head toward the house. Taking a slightly indirect, curving approach, she arrived at the side of the porch and headed toward the door. The porch looks clean, like it’s been swept. Gods, I hope no one’s inside.
She came to the doorway and eased it open, turning the knob as slowly as she could and lifting the door slightly to avoid creaks. Inside, the farmhouse was extremely spacious. A broad entryway pressed out in all directions, and the darkened room held several wooden tables displaying vases with rotting flowers and a few tapestries that it was too dim to make out the details of. She tiptoed to the next doorway and peered beyond. At the edge of this entryway, the doorway opened to two large rooms. One seemed to be a deserted living room, and the other some manner of parlor. She cut left to the living room and crept in. A series of faded couches and armchairs sat around a low, empty table. On opposite walls were two objects hung up with what looked like bedsheets draped over them. She carefully removed one and saw a window; at the other, a long and wide mirror that made the room look much bigger. On the far wall was a staircase that led up into the house’s second floor. There was a musty smell, like cloth that has remained wet for too long.
Covered mirror and window. Fuck. I have to be more careful than I’ve ever been in my life. I do not want to have to use this stake. I’ll check the second floor out after I’m done with the first floor–don’t want to get cornered upstairs.
Asp turned and snuck back out of the room towards the parlor. Once she was inside, she could see a modest kitchen tucked into a corner that had been obscured to her; the kitchen held another hung sheet, which she removed to discover another window. She turned her attention to the rest of the parlor. A large cabinet stocked with liquor and wine bottled as well as fancy glasses stood beside another sheeted object, which turned out to be an oval-shaped mirror. In the center of the room was a collection of loveseats and a few more armchairs, and the remaining walls held more covered windows.
Nice house. At least, if it weren’t filled with fucking vampires. Probably, anyway.
A faint sound came from the other room, or at least, she thought it did. Unsure of whether she trusted her senses in this state of fear, she crept back to the doorway and peered into the darkened living room. Nothing seemed different from when she had been there moments ago. She swallowed hard and considered her options.
The first floor is clear. I’m not going upstairs alone after that sound. I think I should go get everybody else. As long as we’re quiet, maybe we can sneak up on whatever’s up there.
She turned towards the entryway and made her way silently to the front door. She slipped out to the porch and hurried toward her allies.
“What’d you find?” asked Marlowe.
Asp sighed. “It’s as big as a mansion in there. Every window and mirror in the place was covered. No light anywhere–I could barely see a thing. The first floor seemed deserted, except it was pretty clean. Like, no dust anywhere. There’s a second floor, too, but I thought I heard something and didn’t think checking it out alone was a good idea. Sorry.”
“No, you did the right thing,” said Marlowe, her almond-shaped eyes glittering. “Now, here’s the plan, everybody. We go in quiet. As quiet as you can. Quieter than you can. We go upstairs and see if something caused a noise. And be ready for anything. The covered windows and mirrors mean that vampires definitely were here, and they may still be here.”
“How big is the second floor?” asked Kast. “How many of them could possibly be up there?”
“I dunno,” answered Asp. “It’s a pretty big house. If the second floor is the same size as the first, there could easily be ten people up there.”
Marlowe turned to Kast. “You can obviously hold your own in a fight. We need someone to stand guard out here and keep us from getting trapped in there should anyone come from outside.”
Kast nodded. “Understood.”
Marlowe drew a shimmering silver sword. “Everybody ready?”
Everyone nodded grimly and followed Marlowe as she crept towards the porch. She went in the front door, which Asp had deliberately left hanging open to avoid risking a creak, and crossed the entryway with surprising swiftness. The group followed behind quietly, glancing around at what Asp had seen just moments before. At the juncture that split into the living room and the parlor, Marlowe turned to Asp, gesturing to the left and the right with a curious look. Asp gestured to the left, into the living room, and Marlowe snuck through the doorway, which now seemed somewhat narrow compared to Marlowe’s much larger body. Single file, the party followed her–Sash stepping quietly with their hand bracing their trident and Steel-Eyes turning sideways to allow his broad frame to pass by. When Larkin moved to go through the doorway, the Bow of Sariel knocked against the doorframe, sending a muted but resonant sound floating through the house. The party turned and looked in dismay at Larkin, who held up her hands innocently.
“I’m not used to how long it is,” she whispered.
Asp and Auberon followed quietly into the living room, and the party glanced around at the uncovered window and mirror.
“Definitely vampires,” said Marlowe, shaking her head, though she wore a smile that said she was eager for a fight.
“You came!” cried a voice.
Asp spun towards the staircase. At the top was a slightkin man–the same slightkin man who had asked her for help finding mercenaries to fight his vampire infestation. But in the low light of the room, his eyes glowed a pale red. At his side, a ghastly elven woman stepped up to the banister. Her eyes were a deep red, and her unnatural grin revealed pointed teeth. The slightkin man reached down and pulled up a crossbow, leveling it at Asp.
“Vampire!” shouted Marlowe. “Attack!”
Without a moment’s hesitation, Marlowe dashed up the stairs towards the vampire. She swung around the turn at the stairs’ landing halfway up and kept her momentum as she continued driving towards the vampire and the slightkin man.
Meanwhile, from the first floor, Steel-Eyes grabbed a hammer from his belt and braced himself. He threw it with all his might upwards at the vampire, and it looked for a moment as though it would strike her dead between the eyes while she was distracted by Marlowe’s climb. But before the hammer could land its blow, the vampire dipped to the side, and the hammer clattered against the wall with a resounding thump.
Auberon gently pushed Asp aside and followed Marlowe, racing up the stairs to join her in the fray. Asp watched as the elven man moved quickly and efficiently, and she estimated that every step he took would have required three or even four steps from her.
If they’re both up there with the vampire, I’m not going to have a good shot without risking hitting them, Asp thought. Better shoot now before things get complicated. She drew her crossbow and aimed carefully at the vampire, pulling the trigger as the vampire eyed Marlowe and Auberon racing toward her. The bolt sailed through the air and landed true in the side of the vampire’s neck, and the vampire clutched the bolt in pain–but even then, she never took her eyes off Marlowe and Auberon. Fuck. This crossbow won’t do anything helpful without silver bolts. I have to get up there and try to get her with my stake while she’s distracted by Marlowe and Auberon. Asp dashed after the vampire hunters, taking the stairs as quickly as she could.
The slightkin man with the crossbow growled as he recognized he no longer had a shot at Asp and instead moved his aim towards Guy. He held the crossbow towards Guy and fired, but the bolt sailed just wide of the metal man, who stepped quickly to stand before Steel-Eyes, offering him cover from the barrage from above.
Larkin growled fiercely and placed her hands together at the wrist. She shouted something Asp could not understand, and glowing orange light formed at her hands. The light gathered for half an instant and then shot upwards, striking the vampire in the chest with a burst of fiery light. The vampire screamed in pain and shot a furious look at Larkin, who kept her hands in position and shouted again. This time, a blue-green orb formed, and it launched towards Steel-Eyes. When it struck him, he flew upwards and landed directly behind the vampire, who moaned in shock.
“Aid me!” the vampire cried out. Three more people–a young dwarven woman, a bearded newtkin man, and a rugged-looking human man, all with pale red eyes like the slightkin Asp had met before–poured out from the hallway at the top of the stairs. The bearded newtkin and the human man leapt over the railing of the top floor and landed on their feet on either side of the first steps up the stairway, eyeing those still on the first floor–Larkin, Sash, and Guy. Meanwhile, the dwarven woman charged at Steel-Eyes pummeling him with a thick club.
Sash held their trident out in a defensive position and swept to the space between the others downstairs. “On me!” they cried. As the newtkin and human drew nearer, Sash brandished their trident as if daring them to try attacking their allies.
At the top of the stairs, the vampire was practically surrounded. Steel-Eyes scooped up his hammer and turned to face her; Auberon had reached Marlowe’s side and stood at the top of the stairs; the railing blocked the vampire from doing anything but leaping to the waiting adventurers below; only behind her was not blocked. Marlowe grinned and dove past the vampire, turning a somersault as she went, and propelled herself into a standing position behind the vampire. The vampire turned to face her, but lightning-fast, Marlowe gripped her sword and swung in three swift blows. The first struck the vampire’s right underarm, neatly severing the arm. Swinging back downward, Marlowe severed the vampire’s left arm at the shoulder. The vampire seemed to know in this instant that she was done for, and as Marlowe’s third strike beheaded the vampire, the falling head wore an expression of shocked anguish.
“Get the thralls!” cried Marlowe as the head tumbled off the second floor, plummeting to the ground below.
Steel-Eyes, hammer now in hand, turned to the slightkin thrall. The thrall was still aiming his crossbow at the cluster of adventurers below, seemingly unaware of the fact that he was in danger. Steel-Eyes wound up and threw his hammer hard, and it went spinning through the air. It struck the thrall squarely in the side of the head, and the thrall crumpled to the ground, the crossbow clattering across the floor.
I’m not gonna be of much use up there anymore. I’ll get downstairs and try to help Sash and Larkin. Asp turned and raced down the staircase, cursing her tiny legs for keeping her from reaching them sooner.
Larkin turned her attention to the human thrall, who was closing in on her, Sash, and Guy, his arms raised, holding a crude mace. She pointed a finger at the man and yelled something in an unfamiliar tongue, and a purple ray of light shot from her hand and hit the thrall in the chest. His arms flailed, and the mace fell from his hands as his hands hung limply at his sides. Unnerved by his sudden inability to fight, he began to back up towards the staircase.
Sash bore down on the newtkin thrall, lunging forward and driving their trident deep into the leg of the thrall. The thrall yelped in pain but simply gripped its shortsword tighter and continued closing in. Sash took a step back and prepared for his advance.
The thralls seemed to all act as one. The dwarven thrall at the top of the stairs grabbed the sword from the dead vampire and threw it down at Sash, clipping their left shoulder, but Sash refused to budge. The human thrall turned and raced towards Asp on the stairs, plowing into her with a mighty kick that sent her sprawling back into the railing. The newtkin thrall feinted towards Sash and then ducked to the side, striking at Larkin with his mace, and Guy quickly stepped into the way to absorb the blow, then hobbled to the side under the pressure of the strike.
Marlowe leapt atop the railing and lifted her sword above her head. She jumped, bringing her sword downwards as she fell. She landed just to the side of the newtkin thrall, and her sword buried itself into the floorboards. She wrenched the blade up out of the floor and maneuvered to have the thrall between her and Sash and Larkin.
From the second floor, Steel-Eyes turned and looked down at his assistant. He muttered something in a low voice, and a burst of faint blue light emanated from his outstretched hand; the light shot down and surrounded Guy, and the metal plate where the thrall’s mace had struck him began to reshape itself into its former state. Guy’s surface glimmered in the low light. Guy then swept in and picked up the newtkin thrall, holding him high over his head, twisting and turning the thrall this way and that to avoid being struck by the mace again. One blow was unavoidable, however–it flew directly at Guy’s head. But the mace stopped a few inches from Guy and simply bounced away, more of the blue light sparking where the mace stopped.
Auberon squared with the dwarven thrall. He faked to one side and then slashed with his silver sword the other way, scoring a nasty cut into the thrall’s stomach. She clutched her wound and scowled at Auberon, who grinned and set himself into a defensive position.
The human thrall approached Asp, still cornered at the staircase’s landing. She felt the world closing in on her with him. Fuck, fuck, fuck! He’s tall–I can’t get to his upper body to use the stake without being vulnerable to him getting me. Think! What else works? Fire, magic, silver–silver! She gritted her teeth and dove between the thrall’s legs. She hit the ground hard and leapt to her feet, turning as fast as she could. She drew her dagger and sliced into his lower back. He moaned and stumbled forward into the railing. As quickly as she could, she reached into her coinpurse and grabbed a handful of helms, then shoved the silver coins into the wound she’d made. She grimaced as she felt the cut flesh around her hand and withdrew it, struggling to not vomit at the sight of blood and entrails on her hand.
Larkin screamed another spell, and deep red light filled the room. Her back turned to the others, Asp saw some of the red light zip into the thrall she’d cut, and he retched against the railing. She heard the other thralls retching behind her.
The dwarven thrall from upstairs dashed down the top flight to the landing and joined the human one. Together, they closed in on Asp, grabbing her and throwing her down the stairs. She landed hard on her back, and her breath rushed out of her. She lay on the floor wheezing and writhing for a moment, trying to find the strength to rise before they reached her again. Finally, she struggled to her feet near the foot of the stairs.
Sash looked up at the newtkin thrall that Guy held, lining up a lunge. Guy noticed this and steadied the thrall, and Sash stepped forward in a powerful thrust, driving their trident completely through the thrall’s body. The thrall stopped moving, and Guy dropped his body to the floor, where it made a sickening thud.
Above them, Auberon charged down the stairs and used his momentum to propel his blade forward. He stabbed the dwarven thrall in the shoulder, and she cried out in pain. She wheeled on Auberon, unarmed, and spat at him, her pale red eyes aglow.
The human thrall ran down the stairs and drew a leg backward to kick at her. Something in Asp broke. She thought for a moment that she had been physically hurt more in the last minute than she ever had. But the clobbering she’d received from the highwaymen outside of Strey had been worse, and remembering how helpless she had been then was scarcely different from how she felt now–attacked by a vampire and four thralls for simply trying to help people; being basically unequipped to fight back; being a small, unarmored slightkin who was being literally thrown around by monsters. She was enraged. She drew the wooden stake from her belt and leapt. She landed a foot on the man’s thigh and jumped further upward. She lifted the stake over her head and plunged it down into the man’s chest. She had aimed for his heart, but struck a few inches to the side, more in the center of his chest. But a stake to the chest is still a painful thing, and the thrall screamed in agony as she hung from her grip on the stake.
Marlowe spun and considered the dwarven thrall Auberon was fighting. “Look out!” she cried. Auberon quickly took a step back, and Marlowe flung her sword at the thrall. The sword flew directly through the air and buried itself in the thrall’s throat, and she fell to the ground, feebly clutching her neck. Marlowe was already dashing over to retrieve her sword.
Larkin circled around behind the last thrall–the human one Asp was hanging from–and yelled one more spell. A ball of fire sprang from her hands and hit the thrall in the back, and Asp could feel the heat of it from the thrall’s other side. But the man did not fall–he simply screamed and tried unsuccessfully to raise his arms.
Finally, Sash called out. “Drop!” Asp let go of the stake and fell to the ground directly in front of the thrall. Sash was behind the thrall where Asp could not see them, and as she stared up in horror at the thrall raising a foot to stomp on her, Sash’s trident, lit up with an orange gleam, ripped through the thrall’s chest. The trident tore back through him as quickly as it had appeared, and the thrall toppled forward, dead, directly on top of Asp.
Her rage was gone. A bloody, burnt, impaled vampire’s thrall that she had shoved coins into was lying on top of her. She could not move. It was dark. She was in pain. She began to cry, and her crying turned quickly to weeping, and the weeping became a loud wail that felt like it lasted forever.
—
Asp was in the old manor in Strey. She was sitting on a couch, Dancer drinking ale from a bottle at her right. Jehosaphat and Oslo were in chairs at the table, and Kyrn was standing behind another chair next to them. Gregorio sat in an armchair, his bespectacled eyes squinting at something written on a paper. Annabel was walking in the door with a few casks of wine, a triumphant smile on her face. To Asp’s left was Candace, who was sitting a distance just far enough away from her to avoid suspicion but just close enough to enjoy their proximity. Everyone was laughing, so Asp laughed too. She wasn’t sure what they were laughing about, but she wanted to join in, so she did her best fake chuckle, glancing at those around her with a look that assured them she was in on the joke.
“Remember when you told that one guard you were descended from elven royalty?” Dancer was talking, and his tone suggested that this was the kind of story you were supposed to know already. Asp didn’t.
“It worked,” said Jehosaphat. “Just barely, but it worked.”
Dancer laughed, but no one joined him. This was not uncommon. “Don’t they have, like, ten royal families?”
“Something like that,” said Jehosaphat. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve never been to Afira.”
“They have five,” said Candace. “One main one, and four regional ones.”
Dancer shook his head. “That’s too many. One is too many.”
“How long were you in Afira?” asked Annabel, setting the wine casks down on the table.
“Not terribly long,” replied Candace. “Only until I was in my thirties.”
“Not long for an elf,” corrected Oslo. “Thirty years is a lot to us.”
“Think you’ll ever go back?” asked Jehosaphat.
“Why would I?” countered Candace. “I have everything I need right here.” She glanced at Asp and showed a furtive smile.
Oslo looked sourly at the wine casks. “Annabel, did you remember to get stuff for dinner?”
Annabel shook her head. “You didn’t say anything about dinner before I left.”
“We need something for dinner,” said Oslo. He grinned sharply. “What do elves eat?”
Candace shrugged. “Depends on where they’re from.”
Dancer put his hands on his hips. “Which of the many elven kingdoms do you hail from, Queen Candace?”
Candace stuck her tongue out at him. “I was from where the river elves live. We ate a lot of fish.”
Oslo smirked. “Who will bring us some fish? Maybe Candace, our resident fish expert, can do it.”
“I’ll help.” Asp had spoken before she realized she was speaking. For some reason, her mind felt cloudy. Am I drunk? She looked at the table before her, down at her own hands. There was no empty glass or bottle to suggest she’d been drinking. Why can’t I remember anything about how I got here?
“Queen Candace and her royal attendant shall fetch us a proper elven dinner, then,” declared Oslo. “Be quick–I don’t want to drink on an empty stomach.”
Candace rose from the couch and headed to the door. She paused there and turned back, looking at Asp.
Move, feet. Asp felt sluggish, but she managed to stand and shuffle to the door. “Be back soon,” she said before going outside.
Candace followed her out and closed the door. “But not too soon. I want some time with my honey.” She looked dreamily down at Asp.
They trooped away from the manor and into the market district. Candace approached a fisherman’s booth and purchased three different kinds of fish. For some reason, although Asp was only a foot away, she couldn’t hear what they said–only that they were talking, almost like it was another language. She glanced at the fisherman, an elf. It is another language. It’s so frustrating that I can’t talk to Candace in her native tongue. I need to have her teach me one of these days.
Candace handed some coins over to the fisherman and turned, smiling at Asp. “He wants authentic river elf food? We’ll make a classic fish stew.”
They visited a few other merchants–a farmer with fresh produce, a baker with flaky bread, a brewer with pale ales, all elves–and Candace spoke in elven to each of them. She traded coins for the ingredients with a strange look in her eye.
“What’s wrong, Candy?” asked Asp. “You look almost sad.”
“I don’t like to think about things back in Afira,” Candace said. “I promised myself I’d never go back. It’s not so bad in Lo’Torrin, but most of the people in Afira have nasty hearts. They’re filled with hate for no reason. Well, not no reason, but bad reasons. Thinking about it . . . it just makes me remember why I left.”
“But you said–”
Candace clenched her jaw. “I was telling the truth. The decision was made for me. By her. But I don’t miss it there, either.”
Asp felt a great sadness. She and Candace didn’t discuss their pasts directly. They both understood where the other had come from, even if they were opposite ends of the world. A mother who sells you out is a mother who sells you out, no matter where she’s from. “I’m sorry, Candy. I only asked to understand.”
“It’s fine. I just wanna make this stew to get Oslo to shut his trap.”
Asp and Candace hauled the ingredients back to the manor. The gang greeted them, but Asp couldn’t entirely focus on anything but making sure Candace was okay. The gang settled back in, still telling stories–or more accurately, reminding each other of stories already told–and Asp and Candace began to cook.
Candace was quiet. She gave short, direct instructions. “Pour this wine in the pot.” “Chop these potatoes.” “Descale these fish.” Soon, a bubbling pot that smelled at once exotic and simple filled the manor. The stew was thick, and Candace and Asp took turns stirring it as it neared completion. Candace took a spoon from a drawer and tasted the stew. She frowned. “More garlic.” Asp removed the skin from more garlic cloves and threw them into the pot. They stirred more. Candace tasted it again. “Much better.”
“It’s ready?” Asp’s voice sounded hollow and faraway.
“Dinner’s ready,” said Candace, cutting through the storytelling.
“Be there in a second,” called Oslo. “It better be authentic.”
“I’ll give him authentic,” whispered Candace.
“I’m sorry,” Asp whispered back.
“It’s not your fault,” replied Candace.
Asp frowned. “I mean I’m sorry you have to go through this.”
Candace began ladling stew into bowls. “It’s fine.”
Oslo came into the kitchen and took a bowl. He lifted the bowl to his lips and slurped some up. “Hmm. You elves know a thing or two about cooking.”
“Thank you,” said Candace through gritted teeth.
Dancer joined them and spooned some stew into his mouth. He smiled delightedly. “All hail Queen Candace!”
The rest of the gang came for their portions of stew, each commenting on how delicious it was.
“All hail Queen Candace!” they all cried. “All hail Queen Candace!”
Asp studied Candace’s face. She was unhappy. It was not obvious to the others–Candace hid her emotions well when she chose to–but Asp could see it. Candace was miserable. The more the gang cheered, the more miserable she became.
Suddenly, Asp and Candace were in bed. Candace was shaking. Asp could feel that her neck, where Candace’s face was buried, was wet. She realized with a start that Candace was crying. She had never seen Candace cry before. She knew that talking about it would only make things worse, so she simply held on tight.
“It’s okay, Candy,” she whispered. “It’s gonna be okay. I love you. It’s okay. Oh, Candy. You’re gonna be okay . . .”
—
“You’re gonna be okay, Penelope.”
It was Larkin. The corpse was still on top of Asp, and she blinked repeatedly, trying to shake the memory out of her head. Where did that come from? I haven’t thought about that in years.
The body lifted. Above her stood Larkin and Auberon, each with their hands on a shoulder of the dead thrall. They got the body on its feet and let it fall backwards. It slammed into the ground with a sickening thud. Asp scrambled to her feet and was horrified to see blood staining Penelope’s dress. The blood was everywhere. She retched for a moment, then breathed deeply.
“You alright?” asked Marlowe, her crimson lips pulled back in concern.
“Not great,” said Asp, a hand gingerly held against her ribs. “I’m hurt.”
Larkin knelt and placed her palm against Asp’s back. “Hold on. This should make you feel better.” Larkin muttered a few unfamiliar words, and Asp suddenly had the feeling that something fluid and light was running down her back, and she could feel her pain slowly fade away.
“Thanks,” said Asp. “I really appreciate it.”
Marlowe turned to the staircase. “We need to explore upstairs. There could be more.”
“More?” repeated Asp, joining Marlowe on the stairs. “You think there’s more of them up there?”
Marlowe began climbing the stairs as though this were simply business as usual. I guess it is business as usual for her. And Larkin healing me–just another task to be done after a battle. I don’t belong with these people. I’m just a fast-talking girl with nothing to offer in a situation like this. Marlowe was on the last few stairs.
“Get ready,” said the vampire hunter. “We’re going to need to–”
ZAAAAP!
Marlowe flew back down the top flight of stairs, past Asp, and over the railing, slamming hard into the wall beyond it. They all looked up at the second floor landing. A pale elven man in his adolescence stood heaving there, his deep red eyes aflame with hate.
“You killed my family,” he fumed. “You will die for this.”
“We didn’t attack first!” cried Larkin. “They came at us!”
“Lies!” seethed the young vampire. “This was my family’s home, and you have trespassed. And now, I will make sure you die for what you’ve done to them.”
“Get him!” shouted Marlowe from the floor, then passed out.
Asp aimed her crossbow at the vampire’s head and fired. The bolt sailed through the air, all eyes on its flight. It was about to strike the vampire, but he swiftly raised a hand and caught the bolt in midair, his pointed teeth showing through his sickening grin.
Sash shook their head at the furious elven vampire and began to incant phrases Asp could not make out. A ball of pale green light appeared around Sash, who began to approach the stairs, trident held forward menacingly as they went.
Meanwhile, Steel-Eyes muttered his own incantation as he gripped his hammer, and bubbling yellow energy surrounded the heavy tool. He reared back and let loose a throw. The hammer flipped end over end through the air, and as the vampire braced himself for Sash’s approach, the hammer slammed into the side of the vampire’s head. A burst of radiant light exploded from the hammer, and the vampire screamed out in pain. Steel-Eyes followed Sash, dashing up the stairs. But Guy also reared back, his massive metal fist cocked and ready to slam forward. He lurched forward, his attack aimed at the support for the second floor, but the vampire screeched a piercing word, and the air around Guy distorted. His fist instead landed on the support for the stairs leading upward, and the floor crumpled. Sash had already made their way to the first landing, but Steel-Eyes toppled downward onto his assistant.
Larkin held out a hand and chanted, a ray of white light appearing between her palm and the vampire’s chest. Larkin’s face was intense and frightening, and the vampire stared back with a look to match hers. They glared at one another for a moment, the light illuminating the room and highlighting the vampire’s ghastly features. For a moment, it looked as though the vampire was being overpowered by this light, but then he smiled wickedly, and the light from Larkin’s palm went out. Larkin scowled and chanted again, and this time, an otherworldly longbow appeared next to her, floating in the air. The bowstring drew back, and without someone to guide it, an arrow of burning orange light appeared nocked at the string.
Asp sized up the situation. All of her allies were on the first floor, and only she and Sash had the ability to easily reach the second floor. The vampire’s attention was on the larger combatants around her. If she was going to contribute to this fight, she would have to be bold. She scrambled up the stairs as quietly as possible, her body hunched down to make herself harder to notice. She sped past the vampire and stood behind him. Gritting her teeth, she leapt into the air and drove her dagger squarely into his back, using gravity to cut a long gash down as she fell. The vampire screamed in agony and lashed backwards with a kick, but kept his attention focused on Sash as they approached, trident in hand.
Sash spoke in a low voice as they lifted their trident high above their head. As they spoke, a blazing white light appeared around the points of the trident. They brought the trident down hard, feinting as though they meant to stab the vampire, and when the vampire braced to dodge the blow, Sash changed direction and simply bashed the vampire on the head. The white light transferred from the trident’s points to the vampire, who once again screamed out in pain.
Seeming to realize that he was outnumbered, the vampire howled. At first, Asp thought that the howl was a marker of pain or fear, but as the howl continued, the vampire’s body began to change. He grew another foot taller. His hands became vicious claws, and his arms grew another joint, bending in nightmarish ways as he stood. His face sprouted another set of eyes above his existing ones, which Asp was able to see as the vampire spun in a circle, transforming as he went. The plain robes he wore split, and he stood in tattered cloth at the top of the stairs, still howling. In a moment, he stopped, and his pointed teeth poked out further from his terrifying grin.
Steel-Eyes and Larkin were visibly shaken. They took reflexive steps backwards, lowering their weapons. Auberon dashed toward the stairs and vaulted over the missing section in the steps, turning and hurrying up to the second floor to join Asp and Sash with the vampire. Auberon lunged forward with his sword. The vampire seemed quickened by his transformation and lunged as well. Acting fast, Guy lifted a chunk of the broken staircase and hurled it at the vampire, striking it in the head. Knocked off balance, the vampire missed Auberon, who altered his attack and drove his sword into the vampire’s guts. The vampire screamed and lifted the mass of wood that Guy had thrown and threw it back downstairs, catching Steel-Eyes square in the chest.
Steel-Eyes seemed to be awakened from his shock. He grabbed a metal totem from his belt and muttered something quietly. Deep blue light surrounded him, and as the light spiraled around him, his face grew less and less fearful, more and more furious. He began to approach the staircase again, this time more quickly and confidently.
Larkin shook herself. The look of fear left her eyes, too, and she shouted a spell at the top of her lungs. A writhing, twisting black cloud appeared around the vampire, almost entirely obscuring its massive body. It howled again, this time in confusion–it could not see that Sash was winding up for another strike with their trident--it could not see anything.
Asp took advantage of the vampire’s confusion. She lined up where the last wound she had scored into the vampire was and leapt again. She stabbed down hard, feeling the blade of her dagger scrape against bone. Again, she let her weight help her drag the dagger down the vampire’s back, and it screamed again in hideous pain. She landed on the ground and backed up, unsure of what would happen next.
Sash set their jaw and lunged with the trident into the magical darkness that Larkin had created. No one could see precisely where the trident’s points struck, but the screeching that sounded from the black cloud told them all that Sash’s blow had done its job. Narrowing their eyes, Sash stepped forward into the darkness, joining the vampire in complete obscuration.
The vampire howled. He screamed something in a language that sounded like elven, but somehow more dark, more threatening. The black cloud had covered all but his limbs, and even those disappeared. In an instant, the vampire appeared several feet away, down the hallway that led into the rest of the second floor. He was ten feet from the adventurers and Auberon, between a long wooden wall and the railing that overlooked the first floor. He was bleeding heavily, but he seemed undeterred by his wounds.
From the first floor, Larkin waved her hand. The black cloud dissipated, and she leapt from sturdy foothold to foothold over the gap in the stairs. As she reached the landing between the first and second floor, she began to chant. Orange-yellow light formed in an orb at her palms, and when she reached the second floor, she aimed it at the vampire and let it loose. The orb shot through the air and crashed into the vampire, who let loose another horrible shriek as the flames that exploded from the orb licked over its body.
“I’m here!” called a deep voice from the first floor. Asp glanced through the gaps in the railing and saw Kast sprinting inside, weapon drawn, his talisman thumping around his neck. “Hold him off! I’ll be right there!” Kast took a mighty leap and gripped the railing of the landing, pulling himself over and dashing up the intact stairs to the second floor. He arrived at the top and looked around, orienting himself, and turned to face the vampire.
Asp had grown confident. She had realized that to this vampire, her small body and smaller dagger posed little apparent threat. She charged down the hallway as the vampire eyed Sash, Auberon, and Kast, the monstrous thing’s red eyes gleaming in the low light. She dove and slid between the vampire’s legs, aiming to cut deeply into his inner thigh. But she remembered again the moment she had done something similar to Gunther, and her hand refused to press out at the vampire’s leg hard enough. She instead slid past and scrambled to her feet, the vampire between her and her allies.
Sash stepped forward and thrust their trident at the vampire. Distracted by the halfling diving between his legs, the vampire was caught off guard by Sash’s attack, and the prongs of the trident plunged into his chest. He did not scream this time. His eyes were looking past Sash, as though the attack were nothing.
The vampire pointed at Kast and began to lumber forward. Asp saw that he was ignoring her and leapt again at his back, sinking her dagger in deep and yanking downward. But again, he ignored this attack. Instead, he continued forward, past Sash, and grabbed Kast. He said something in the nearly elven tongue once more, and Kast’s eyes widened–not in fear, but in surprise. The vampire grappled with Kast, and it looked as though he wanted to throw Kast over the railing, but Kast fought back and managed to stay put.
Auberon advanced up the stairs. He closed in on the vampire and tried to line up a strike with his silver sword. But holding Kast tightly as the vampire was, Auberon could not get a clear attack on the vampire without hitting Kast. Auberon scowled and began to circle the vampire, looking for an angle, but the vampire only turned with him, keeping Kast between himself and Auberon.
Steel-Eyes mounted the stairs and moved faster than Asp had ever seen him go. He raced to the second floor and snatched up his hammer from where he had thrown it. “Guy, throw!” he shouted. Guy lifted the broken chunk of the staircase and hurled it at the vampire’s back, which was turned to the railing. It struck the vampire in the head, and Steel-Eyes swept in and landed two heavy blows with the hammer on the vampire’s head and neck. The vampire seemed unfazed.
“Let go of my friend!” screamed Larkin. Still on the first floor with Guy, she pointed a finger at the vampire’s back. A swirl of orange and purple light built up around her finger and sprang forward, flying through the air and striking the vampire in the back of the neck. The vampire hissed but did not move, and Larkin began toward the stairs to join the fray above.
The vampire flashed a terrifying smile. His incisors seemed to be nearly a foot long, and his four deep red eyes each focused on a different foe. Using his double-jointed arms, he gripped Kast more tightly as Kast struggled and fought back. The vampire threw his head back and shouted four deafening words in a voice that stuck with Asp for the rest of her life.
“Sinoreth lordai’i manseth holdran!”
Instantly, a small blue rectangle appeared on the wall next to the vampire. It rapidly expanded until it was the size of a large door. It emitted a strange crackling sound, and the noise of high-pitched laughter came faintly through the door. The vampire secured his grip on Kast and dove through the door. As soon as the two of them passed through it, the door suddenly shrank down to nothing and disappeared.
It had all happened in an instant. Kast dashing through the door, climbing the stairs, being grabbed by the vampire, and being taken away to somewhere unknowable. Stupefied, the party looked at one another in silence.
Kast was gone.
—
From below, moaning brought them to their senses.
“Marlowe!” cried Larkin. She rushed downstairs, leaping over the missing chunk of the staircase, and knelt by Marlowe’s side. She uttered the same words she had over Asp just moments before. Auberon stood by her side, anxiously watching Larkin work. Marlowe’s eyes fluttered, and she slowly awoke.
“Did we get him?” she asked, sitting up.
Everyone frowned.
“We didn’t?” said Marlowe. “He got away then?”
“He got Kast,” mumbled Larkin, tears in her eyes.
“Kast is dead?” cried Marlowe.
“Kidnapped,” replied Asp. “The vampire took him and went through a magic door. They’re gone.”
“He opened a magic door,” repeated Marlowe. “It was a spell? What did he say?”
Asp sighed. “Sinoreth lordai’ manseth holdran,” she said quietly, almost afraid of what the words could do if she spoke them.
“That’s ancient elven,” said Marlowe, rubbing her pointed chin. “I’m not one hundred percent on the translation, but that’s definitely an old dialect of elven.”
“Open the way,” translated Sash. “Then some word I don’t know. And you’re right. That language hasn’t been spoken since the elven nation was still united.”
“How long is that?” asked Asp.
Sash shook their head. “Thousands of years. Tens of thousands of years.”
“Where did the door go to?” asked Asp. “We need Kast back. Not just because he needs rescued, but because he’s a vital part of our mission.”
“That laughing sound,” said Larkin. “I think they went to the In-Between.”
Marlowe scowled. “Fucking In-Between. That’s dangerous. I’m talking unpredictable, unhinged, dangerous.”
“We have to rescue him,” insisted Larkin. “He’d do the same for us.”
“You think he’s still alive?” asked Marlowe. “It wasn’t just the vampire bailing out because you had him on the ropes?”
“He had this crazy look in his eye when he saw Kast,” said Asp. “Rage. Recognition. It was like the vampire knew him.”
“What do we need to go to In-Between,” muttered Steel-Eyes.
Everyone was quiet for a second.
“Sounds like you need information,” said Marlowe. “If nobody knows anything about it, you need to know how to get there. And what you’re going up against.”
“Can’t one of you just say the same spell?” asked Asp. “I mean, of course it did nothing when I said it–I can’t do magic. But all of you can.”
“It doesn’t work that way,” explained Sash. “He was using an old magic that none of us are trained in. Saying the words is only part of it. You need to have a source of magical energy to get that to work.”
Asp looked down at the floor, frustrated and nervous. Every second Kast is gone is another second he’s at risk in the In-Between. We need to move fast. “Where can we find someone who knows about the In-Between?”
Sash raised a finger. “Celeon may know something. He seemed pretty knowledgeable about all manner of things related to elven life and our organizations that most elves don’t know.”
“Are the Fae related to elven life?” asked Asp.
Sash nodded. “Our highest spiritual officials, the Ana'Hiel in Lo'Alarai, are connected to the In-Between. They can draw magic directly from there.”
“Arokosiel might know,” added Steel-Eyes. “He has connections to elven powers.”
“We’ve asked him a big favor already,” said Asp. “You think he’ll help us again?”
“We did him big favor,” replied Steel-Eyes.
Asp shifted her weight from foot to foot. “The missing kids thing was important, I’ll give you that. But so was signing the treaty.”
“I know this sea captain who might know,” said Larkin. “He’s familiar with all kinds of weird stuff. His name is Kraken.”
Asp cocked an eyebrow. “You know Kraken?”
Larkin smiled widely. “You know Kraken?”
“He’s how I got to Afira,” Asp said.
“Me too!” cried Larkin. “So he could help.”
Asp sighed. “I don’t mean to be the naysayer here, but Celeon and Arokosiel would mean going all the way back to Lo’Torrin. And finding Kraken could take a long time, especially given that he’s usually on the move.”
“We could go on without Kast,” suggested Steel-Eyes.
“Without Kast?” asked Larkin. “But! But he’s our friend.”
“We have mission,” argued Steel-Eyes.
“And our mission will be a whole lot harder without our emissary,” countered Asp. “He’s supposed to be our bridge between enemies.”
“Mission is urgent,” said Steel-Eyes. “Finding Kast takes time.”
Asp frowned. “It’s no use rushing things if we’re sure to fail.”
“What do you think, Sash?” asked Larkin.
Sash considered a moment, then shrugged. “I think I should pray on it.”
Marlowe raised her eyebrows. “Sounds like you all need a minute. Me and Auberon are going to finish searching the house. Come and help us if you hear anything.”
“You got it,” said Larkin. Marlowe and Auberon headed back up, nimbly leaping over the gap in the stairs.
“Steel-Eyes will be working,” said the dwarf. He ambled off to the parlor with Guy, and Sash went off to a quiet corner in the entryway.
“I wanna pretzel,” said Larkin.
Asp giggled. “A pretzel? Right now?”
Larkin smiled glumly. “Yeah. I could really use a pretzel. Wanna come?”
Asp smiled gently. “Tell you what–I’ll come along. But if you don’t mind giving me a minute, I wanna do something real quick.”
“You need help?” asked Larkin.
Asp smiled. “Nah, I got it. Thanks, though.”
“I’ll hang out on the couch for now, then.” Larkin walked over and sat down on a fine couch, debris from the fight strewn all around it.
Asp smiled at the sight of Larkin calmly relaxing surrounded by complete destruction. She’s a good kid. I hope this mission doesn’t change that.
Asp wandered off to a corner in the kitchen and knelt. She searched her mind. Sash hopes to get answers by praying. I don’t know who to pray to, but I might as well give it a shot. I’ve got no other options.
On her knees in the kitchen, Asp tried her best to focus, and after a moment, her mind wandered away to a place she had never experienced before. She let the feelings inside her subside, closed her eyes tightly, and began to pray.
—
Sariel. I prayed to you before, and you seemed to answer me. I hope Melleon is okay. I trust Melleon is okay. Please let him be okay. Kast is gone. We need help with the In-Between. Can you please help us?
She waited for an answer. Something felt off. She shook her head and tried again.
God of the Ronan’el. Ronaan, I think. I am risking my life to serve your people, to save them from a terrible fate. I hope that my service pleases you. We need your help if we are going to recover Kast. We need him to complete our mission. Can you please help us?
She waited again. Nothing.
Who do I even ask for help? Who makes sense to pray to? Is there a god who loves reformed con artists? No, that’s the wrong perspective. It’s not about who I was. It’s about who I’m trying to become. I want to help people. I want to promote peace. I want a fresh start. Who would honor all of that?
She searched her mind. In all her years in Thistlewade, Strey, and Despair, she had met many people who proselytized to her. People who had claimed that their personal deity could answer all questions, heal all wounds, strengthen all weaknesses. But she had always been skeptical–not because she didn’t believe the gods were out there, but because she’d been confident that she didn’t need one. And on some level, she suspected that there was no god that would have her.
But things were different now. She searched her memory with a cold frustration; she knew that somewhere in her experiences, someone had to have told her about a deity that would fit her now, but because she’d dismissed it all back then, it was hard to access. It was like having the perfect word on the tip of your tongue and not being able to think of the word itself, but worse. A thousand times worse. She felt that her soul hung in the balance, and the right combination of words was elusive. For a person who lived and died by her ability to express things, it was infuriating.
Back in Thistlewade, people looked to Shanna Hearthmother. She was all about the home, having a safe place, having enough to eat. Mom and Dad didn’t particularly care, so maybe it’s no surprise we barely had any of that. Is that a tragedy? Did I miss out on some patron I could have had? I don’t know that I care–I’ve been able to provide for myself for a long time. But will she help me now?
No. That won’t serve me. What about Strey? In Strey, every god was represented, but none was favored enough to make much of an impression. I think in all three years I spent there, I didn’t really learn much of anything about any gods. I mean, I robbed a few temples, but that’s not the kind of thing that’s going to help me now. Probably just hurt me, in fact. I really fucking hope I didn’t rob from the wrong place and screw myself over now.
No, that doesn’t feel right either. What about Despair? Admittedly, I didn’t get a big taste of life there. And certainly not with a lot of time for temples. Huh. There were those traveling priests who came to minister to us at the prison, though. Some dwarven priests, but then, their take on fealty always made me a little uncomfortable. Submission isn’t exactly my thing. Although I guess maybe that has to change. The human gods, though–there was something about them. I remember those traveling priests from the north actually kinda made sense to me. They were all about the seasons. Let’s see . . . who did they talk about?
The goddess of summer–Weylanna, or something like that. What was she about? Um, harvest, hard work. I dunno. Doesn’t exactly feel right. And then there was autumn–Sursa, I think. Protection, and crafting I think. Not bad. But also combat, if I recall, and that’s clearly not my thing. Hmm. Winter? That was Hrega, I believe. Death and spirits. No, that’s not me. What about the goddess of spring? What was her name? Idomma? Idana? Come on, think–what was it? Idunna! She was about rebirth, renewal, starting over. That would be nice. And she was a healer. Or protected healers. Damn, it would be really nice to be able to heal people like Larkin. If I could heal people, I’d be able to do some actual good. I think she was also associated with love and luck, and those are pretty up my alley. When times are good, anyway. Okay, so Idunna. Let’s try you.
Asp shifted on the kitchen floor and resettled. She tried to open herself and began to pray.
Idunna. We’ve never spoken. I felt like I didn’t have reason to, but things sure have changed. Two weeks ago, I was a criminal. A pretty good one. Wait, sorry. That’s not something to be proud of. I was a criminal, and I was proud of it. I thought I could do it all alone. And I was wrong to be proud, and I was wrong to think I could be an island. I’ve been proven wrong a lot. Sorry it took me so long to figure that out.
I ended up where I am because of some bad luck. Or maybe I had it coming. Maybe all of this stuff–the mission, the fear, the pain, losing Kast–maybe it was all just a way that the world decided to humble me, make me realize I needed someone, or maybe something, like you. I can’t do this alone. I can’t just be a liar and a thief anymore. I need to get serious about balancing the scales. I really hope you can help me do that.
I have done a lot of things that have hurt people. If I had to guess, I’ve stolen from hundreds of people. Hundreds. That’s a lot of pain I’ve created. And I know that the pain I’ve been through doesn’t excuse that. Being with Sash and Larkin and Steel-Eyes and Kast–they’re all so fiercely good. And I’m just . . . me. I’m just a little failure, someone who learned to hurt people so long ago I didn’t even realize I was doing it. But I want to change. I don’t want to be like this anymore. I want to do better. Even if I never set things right, which I probably can’t do anyway, I want to start doing the right thing. I want to start being a good person because that’s the only good thing I can do at this point. Maybe with your help, I’ll start learning to do more than that.
I don’t know how much to ask. I don’t want to ask too much, especially since I’ve never really done anything you’d like. But I’m in a tight spot, and I need help.
I need to be able to find Kast. We need him if we’re going to fix things. We need him to save lives. And we have to do this. I can’t fail at this mission. I can’t let thousands, or tens of thousands, maybe even hundreds of thousands of Ronan’el die. Or the elves, for that matter. Not for my mistake. We need help getting to the In-Between, and we need that help soon. Because I don’t know what will happen if we delay too long.
I need to be able to help people. My little plan about a business that helps people find people who can actually help them is nice, but it’s not enough. I want to be able to heal people like Larkin. I want to be able to help sick people, injured people, dying people. I want to take whatever energy I have and use it to do something that means something. To be able to do something that I know is good. To be able to make the world a better place, especially after I fouled this all up so badly.
I need to be good, and to have something to believe in. I want that to be you. I want to believe that I can start over, I want to believe that loving people matters, I want to believe that good things can happen. I can feel this space inside me that’s empty. I don’t think it’s supposed to be empty. I think something like you is supposed to be there. Something that will help me when I try to be good and help remind me not to be bad. I want your help to be a better person, and not just so I can fix what I’ve done, but because it’s the right thing to do.
Idunna, I don’t know if you can hear me. I never really learned to pray. Maybe I’m just sitting here in this kitchen talking to myself. But I want to believe you can hear me, that you approve of what I’m saying, that you see something in me that can get better. I don’t wanna be Asp anymore. I don’t wanna be some venomous little snake that people don’t know to be afraid of. I wanna be someone people can trust. I wanna be the person I pretended to be to get close to people–honest, reliable, decent. I don’t want to end up having to run again. I don’t wanna use up all my chances.
I want to serve you. I want to devote all my time and energy to doing what you would have me do. I want to be a priestess of your word and power. I promise to learn all I can about you. I promise to use whatever you give me for good. And I promise to make you proud if you trust me enough to help me. I promise all of this on my life and everything I have and ever will have. Please, Idunna, bless me so that I can bless others.
I don’t know how to close this prayer, so I will simply say what’s on my heart. I love you. I mean, I want to love you. I love what you stand for. And so I love you.
Asp’s eyes were still closed tight. But before her, she saw a simple image: a plain flower with white rounded petals and a fluffy yellow circular center. She considered the daisy in her mind’s eye and smelled a powerful scent. She had smelled it a few times before, in the orchards at Thimblefull Vineyards. It was cherry blossoms, sweet and light and slightly earthy. She felt just the slightest pressure on her shoulders. She opened her eyes. She was still in the kitchen, and the smell of cherry blossoms lingered. She smiled to herself, a great relief in her chest. She stood up and wandered into the living room and stood beside Larkin, who was lounging on the couch.
“You ready, Larkin?” she asked. “I’m dying for a pretzel.”
You can read the next chapter here!
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