CHAPTER8
An icy frostclaws its way into me and a violent shiver of fear and disgust rakes through my body.
After the vampire lord leaves, the room is darker, colder. Every shadow is more sinister. I never thought I might actually miss the Blood Moon and its unnatural hue. But somehow the steely light of a normal moon is worse. It’s a reminder that time has passed and I think again,How long have I been here?
Perhaps I was unconscious for multiple days and that’s why I feel so weak. But even if I was…it cannot have beenmuchmore than two days at most. Such an inconsequential period of time and everything has changed.
I stare at my hands, my arms, my legs, feeling that deep and undeniable ache in all of them; it’s an exhaustion unlike any I’ve ever known. I want it to be reassuring. I made the right decision, didn’t I? If my choices were death by withering away, or a pact with the vampire lord, then I chose correctly. As long as I’m alive I can dosomething; I can keep working toward a brighter future for Hunter’s Hamlet.
When Drew first announced he would join the hunters, Mother said,Don’t throw your life away. She had been telling him that if this was the decision he was determined to make, if this was how he wanted to spend his life, then he should make sure it meant something. That he gave his life to a worthy cause.
That is what we all do in Hunter’s Hamlet. I just thought my cause would be forging silver weapons. Not wielding them myself.
I grip my head and curl into a ball. Tears try to squirm from my eyes, threatening to drown me if I let them loose. Was this how my brother felt when he joined the hunters? Did he know it was the right decision and yet was torn asunder by it because he was terrified at the same time? No, he must’ve been calm, so I will be, too.
Drawing shaky breaths, I fight for my composure.The vampire lord thinks you’re a hunter, act like one!I scold myself, thinking of Drew’s stoic, immovable strength. Absolutely nothing seems to shake him. He can take anything in his stride. If that power is within him, then it is within me, too. I bring my hand to my chest, spinning the silver ring that matches his around my little finger until I’m calm.
Pushing the blanket off, I’m determined not to wallow in worry and self-doubt. I must strike sure and true in the forge, mere seconds and heat between perfection and scrap. I try and channel the same confidence here and now.
Blood has crusted against my leather armor, but doesn’t seem too old. It’s another odd comfort—another assurance that notmuchtime has passed. I make my way toward the window, sinking lower in my knees with every step to test my muscles. My legs shake in ways they shouldn’t. But there’s still strength there, enough for me to walk tall for a bit longer yet.
At the window, I behold the land of the vampire.
Expectedly, given our journey here, I am in a mountaintop castle. Frosted peaks circle a low caldera, the tips reminiscent of the sharp-toothed mouths of the vampire. The basin is packed tightly with buildings. It’s a moonlit city of bridgeways connecting towers with spires. The city stretches so tall that I cannot see the ground. And even if I could, I am too far up to see any creatures, vampire or otherwise. Most importantly, I cannot spy any way down to the city below. Which leads me to believe the mountains are hollow and there are internal tunnels. Or, the only way in and out of this castle is through a vampire’s mist stepping.
Didn’t he say that the castle was warded?He must’ve been lying. We entered using magic, after all. The vampire are pure evil and I can trust nothing they say. I can’t even be sure about the terms of the bloodsworn. I’ll have to find everything out for myself and trust only my own instinct. Anything less could mean my demise.
I wonder if he put me in this particular room so I would try and find a possible way to escape this castle and the vampire’s territory—to assess my options and find none. I bet he is hoping I panic at the sight of my helplessness and truly submit to him. He assumes me to be afraid, easily manipulated, and cowering at the thought of being trapped or alone.
He doesn’t realize that I have always been trapped by his kind. I was born into Hunter’s Hamlet and will die there because it is my sworn oath to all of humanity to protect the world from his scourge. This is not materially different. I am just in closer confines with my sworn enemy.
At least, that’s what I tell myself. I’m not going to let him break me down with mind games and doubt.
“If I kill him, it all ends.” My breath fogs the glass. The door opens, interrupting my thoughts. I hope the sentiment wasn’t heard.
It is not the vampire lord but the man from the hall we landed in. Quinn, was his name. Strange, I didn’t think any but the vampire lord would have a name. Though I didn’t think any, the vampire lord included, were sentient enough to talk, either. Perhaps if I do somehow manage to escape with my life, and fail to kill the vampire lord in the process, I can take useful knowledge back to the hamlet.
“I am to take you to the altar.” As he speaks, I also notice that he only has two elongated fangs. Another similarity with the vampire lord and difference from vampires I’m familiar with.
“Very well.” I’m grateful he didn’t come sooner. If he’d arrived immediately after the vampire lord left, he would’ve found me a mess on the bed. Luckily I’ve managed to gather myself enough to project as a strong hunter.
He’s skeptical of my calmness. I can tell by how he glances at me from the corner of his eye. How he lingers, waiting to see if I say or do something else. I can almost hear the unsaid whispers that burn the other side of his wrinkled lips. But the man is an obedient servant to his lord and says nothing, merely steps aside in the door frame and motions for me to follow.
I wonder if he cannot say anything else, even if he wanted to. Drew’s stories from the hunters’ books made it clear that all the vampire come from a single lord—they share the old blood of the first of their forsaken kind. That is why, if someone kills the lord, the rest will die. They will be mindless monsters, incapable of thought without their leader, a directionless horde rather than a thinking foe.
Will becoming bloodsworn also make me a mindless slave to him? I inhale slowly and keep my head level. No, it won’t. The vampire lord seems to think that he needs me as ahuman. If this pact were to change my humanity—thus giving him any kind of control over me—then I doubt he would go through with it. Moreover, as he aptly put, I am not a vampire. The effects of this ritual likely won’t affect me in the same ways as the others of his kind.
Even if I can’t trust what he says…I can trust my own logic. Or, can I? Pain stabs my temples and I rub them lightly. All this thinking and scheming and debating has me going in circles; I’m not cut out for this in the slightest.
The halls of the castle are drafty, dusty, empty voids. It’s a massive and mazelike place. I follow Quinn through a series of rooms and onto a balcony. Snow has piled high. A single path of footsteps cuts through the blanket of white. The tracks step off the edge of the balcony, past a section of broken railing, and continue along a buttress that supports this wing of the castle. The narrow walkway stretches across the dark abyss of cliff and castle like a pale, unfurled ribbon.
I pause at the edge of the balcony and swallow hard. The world tilts slightly. Quinn is several steps ahead down the path he clearly intends for us both to use.
“Afraid, human?”
“No,” I lie. I’ve never evenseenanywhere this high up. But to be perched at the edge…
He sniffs, as though he can smell my deceit. I hope he can’t. The cliffs below the walkway—Who am I kidding?It’s not even a walkway. It’s a decorative element of the castle at best.Why are we not going through the inside?I want to ask but I don’t want to sound like a coward.
