Daka already knew Mahu was a leader of some importance among his kind. Distantly, he’d been proud, up close, he was furious Mahu’s commitment to everyone else so brightly outshined his commitment to Daka.
The old pain began to expand in his chest, its wicked tendrils stirring all the scabbed-over wounds. Tears threatened, but Daka choked them back.
“Oh, Nedjes, I’m sorry.” A pathetic little sigh escaped Mahu’s lips. “I wanted so much to believe you were happy without me.”
“Well, I wasn’t.” Daka sniffled.
Mahu’s face crumpled. Daka immediately wished he could take the words back and spare Mahu from the guilt. But he didn’t want to lie either.
“What’s wrong with you, Mahu? What has happened?”
Mahu gave a sad shrug. “Nothing has happened. It’s only age. I’ve escaped death once, you saw to that, but this time there is nothing we can do.”
“What do you mean?” Daka didn’t know everything about vampires, but he knew they didn’t succumb to disease.
To kill them you must expose them to the sun, pierce the heart, or take off the head. Seeing as Mahu lay in the darkness, without any visible injury, and with his handsome head still attached to strong shoulders, Daka couldn’t see any reason why he shouldn’t be fine. But he knew in his bones Mahu was dying.
“I’ve reached the end of my life, Daka, that is all. At almost two thousand years, it’s much more than most. Even among vampires, it’s more than most.”
“Wait—” Daka’s racing thoughts caught up to him. They hadn’t heard from Solon in centuries, which wasn’t entirely unheard of, but was much longer than he usually went between visits. “—are you telling me vampires have a lifespan? You die of…old age?”
Mahu nodded, and with the gesture he brought Daka’s fear to a reality. Temaj and Solon were older than Mahu. Had they not visited because they couldn’t? Because they were dead? The tears that threatened escaped his lids and rolled fat and heavy down his cheeks.
“Temaj? Solon?” His voice sounded small, even in his own head.
“I’m sorry,” said Mahu gently, his face a reflection of the sorrow Daka felt.
“And now you?”
“Looks that way, though…” Mahu’s gaze flitted to the window.
“What, Mahu? Is there hope? Please tell me there is.”
Mahu took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “There is a group of vampires searching for a cure. One of them, a man I do not care for and have little faith in, Valeri, talks of ancient vampires much older than I near the Arctic Circle. He swears they have answers, but I have mostly doubts.”
Daka would cling to any hope offered him. “When do you expect them back?”
“I don’t know. It’s a terribly perilous journey.”
“Well, how long do you have?”
“I don’t know that either.”
If it wasn’t childish, Daka would stomp his foot. In all his years, he’d never accepted how unfair the world could be.
“What can I do to help?”
At that, Mahu’s tired eyes widened. He shook his head vigorously. “Nothing, Daka, you stay out of it. It’s a dangerous mission. I don’t want you involved.”
Daka wouldn’t know how to get involved if he wanted to, what with this being his first experience with astral projection. Apparently he could only come to one man’s summons, Mahu’s, and no other. Though now that he’d done it once, would next time be easier?
“Don’t worry. I can’t reach them,” Daka admitted. “I don’t even know how I made it to you. I just know you called, and I came.”
“You mean in all these years, you’ve never—”
“Never. I thought I couldn’t, until you called me, and suddenly I could.” Daka reached for him again only to be met with disappointment. The habit was so ingrained he couldn’t help himself. A heavy sensation swept over him. Faintly, he heard the birdsong of waterfowl. “You must call on me again, Mahu. I think I need to leave for a while.”
Mahu frowned, his gaze never wavering from Daka’s face. “So beautiful, Nedjes. Thank you for coming to say goodbye.”
