Yet Boarstaff had made a different calculation.
Their gazes met across the distance, and Sebastian found himself nodding once. He stepped back, allowing the surviving vampires to disappear into the forest.
The settlement’s gate opened fully. Boarstaff descended, followed by Thornmaker and several dwarves. They approached cautiously, warriors still at their backs with weapons ready.
Sebastian stood among the vampire corpses, Cassius’s crushed head at his feet. He knew what they saw, not the refined diplomat in fine clothing they had known before, but something new. His bare feet were stained with blood and mechanical fluid. His simple clothes did nothing to hide the network of scars where he had torn out his father’s “improvements.”
Yet he stood straighter than he ever had under the weight of metal and gears.
Boarstaff stopped a few paces away, taking in Sebastian’s changed appearance. “You’ve returned to us.”
“I have.” Sebastian gestured to the dead vampires. “This won’t be the last we see of them.”
“We’ve been preparing,” Thornmaker said, his gaze moving between Sebastian and the bloody ruin that had been Cassius’s head. “The dwarves arrived three days ago. Desert allies should be here by noon.”
The dwarf with the iron fist in his beard stepped forward, studying Sebastian with narrowed eyes. “So, this is the vampire who killed his brothers.”
“This is Sebastian,” Boarstaff said simply.
The dwarf’s gaze dropped to Cassius’s corpse, then back to Sebastian. “You fight differently than other vampires I’ve encountered.”
“I am different,” Sebastian replied.
“Clearly.” The dwarf extended a heavily armored arm. “Ironfist, tactical advisor to the Iron Holds. Your knowledge of vampire weaknesses will be valuable in the coming conflict.”
Sebastian looked at the offered arm, then at Boarstaff, who nodded almost imperceptibly. Sebastian clasped the dwarf’s forearm briefly. “What I know, I’ll share.”
Warriors were already moving to collect the vampire bodies, examining the components visible in their wounds with wary curiosity. Sebastian felt the weight of countless gazes upon him, orcs, dwarves, even children peering from windows. Some looked fearful, others curious, a few with something like hope.
“We should go inside the wall,” Thornmaker said. “Scouts must be sent to track the survivors, and we must accelerate our preparations.”
Sebastian nodded, but his eyes remained on Boarstaff. The warchief hadn’t moved, was still studying him with an intensity that seemed to see through flesh and bone to whatever lay beneath.
“You look…” Boarstaff began, then stopped, apparently unable to find the right word.
“Different,” Sebastian supplied.
“Yourself,” Boarstaff corrected. “You look like yourself.”
Sebastian considered that as they walked back through the gates. The settlement had changed in his absence, new fortifications, unfamiliar dwarven forges, warriors he didn’t recognize. Or perhaps he was the one who had changed.
He glanced at the Heart Tree as they passed. Its crystal lights pulsed a steady blue, neither approving nor condemning what he had become.
Warriors were already collecting the vampire corpses, some examining the exposed components with grim curiosity. Sebastian felt the weight of their stares, some fearful, others calculating. He’d given them a demonstration they wouldn’t forget.
“The council will want to speak with you at some point about what happened tonight,” Thornmaker said, breaking the silence. “There are preparations to discuss.”
Sebastian nodded. The night was only half over, and there was work to be done.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Boarstaff watched as warriors dragged vampire corpses away from the gate. In death, the vampires looked smaller somehow, their elegant clothing stained with blood and mechanical fluid, their limbs twisted at unnatural angles. Twenty of Cornelius's allies, dispatched in minutes.
His gaze returned to the spot where Cassius had fallen. Little remained of the vampire lord's head, just a dark stain on the earth and fragments of bone and brass that had scattered when Sebastian stepped back. A warrior knelt there, collecting pieces of the destroyed control node with careful fingers, as if they might still hold some dangerous power.
The dwarves had gathered around another corpse, examining the exposed components with a craftsman's curiosity. Ironfist pointed to something inside the open chest cavity, his voice carrying across the night air.
"The primary node connects here, to the spine... and here, to the heart. Ingenious and monstrous at once."
