I didn’t look at him.How hard could it be to kill a vampire?Father and Yann had nearly managed it, and they didn’t know a fraction of the weaknesses I did.Five months.I had less than half a year to waste my time in the library and never see sunlight again, or five months to risk everything, and win back my own humanity.
Bothof our humanities.Our fates were already intertwined, I’d simply been too preoccupied with my own to care much for his before.We would both end this year human, or both be doomed for eternity.
If Raleigh wanted to rot in the darkness I would let him.But I had no intention of dying so peacefully.
I closed the book, letting the pages shut on the only progress I’d made in three months.‘I promise,’ I lied.
Fourteen
WE DIDN’T SPEAK OFthe Queen again, but when Raleigh surprised me several days later by announcing over breakfast that Sovereign had returned to the castle stables, I knew it was his way of apologising.It was an atonement I didn’t deserve, but I would be lying if I said I wasn’t delighted.
‘That was reckless,’ I said.I tried not to picture what might have happened if Raleigh had been caught returning to Orlfen.But he only shrugged.
‘Moira’s the reckless one.’
Moira, who had been pouring my tea, scowled at Raleigh.‘I didn’t steal her.I paid Juri off.That man will do anything for a few thaler.’
I would have argued against this once, but now I felt no desire to defend my father.If he wanted to sell his daughter’s beloved horse to a stranger with a full purse, it only helped shape the new image I was building of him.
‘You’re welcome to ride her whenever you see fit, so long as you’re careful.’Raleigh swirled the liquid in his goblet.‘There are wolves in the forest.’
I couldn’t tell if that was a warning or a threat.‘Could I go to Orlfen?’I asked, watching for Raleigh’s reaction.
He very carefully gave none.‘If you wish,’ he said, not quite meeting my eye.
I pushed out a breath, unsure what to do with this new-found trust he had in me.‘I have no intention of going back to Orlfen again,’ I admitted before the awkwardness could stretch any longer.My last visit hadn’t exactly endeared me to my hometown, and the longer I could delay having to see Father or Yann again the better.
Raleigh’s smile returned.‘But our last visit went so well.’
‘Well enough that I’d rather it remain a one-off,’ I said, trying to match the sardonic lilt to his words.‘But I thought I might like to visit Triz.’
Triz was the closest thing Rostenburg had to a true city.It was carved into a mountainside a three-hour ride south of Castle Rostenburg.Its beauty had once drawn in travellers from all over the continent, but now it floundered under the same three hundred years of princely neglect as the rest of the state.
‘What’s in Triz?’Raleigh asked.
I shrugged, unable to tell him the truth.‘I’ve not been in years, I’d like to see it again.Father used to take me with him on the days he went to market.’
‘You werewithhim?’Raleigh asked incredulously.
Where was this surprise coming from?I picked over what I’d told him, searching for something out of the ordinary.Had I slipped up?Let him know my true intentions?
‘It was before … Father would take me with him when Mother was sick.’I didn’t want to explain my mother’s melancholy to him, the days and weeks she wouldn’t rise from bed in the lead-up to her death.‘I’ve not been back since the famine.I want to see if it’s the same as I remember.’
This seemed to placate him, but I didn’t know what had done the trick.Everything I’d said about my father was the truth.Ididwant to see Triz again and learn how it had fared through the famine.But Triz also had a cathedral and, while Orlfen’s priest had never been replaced after his untimely death, I suspected any Rostenburg priest would have enough knowledge on the occult to help me sift through the facts and fiction of my research.I had questions I couldn’t ask Raleigh.
I needed help to kill a vampire.
Raleigh found me a map and a purse full of gulden that ‘would be enough to buy myself some lunch if I wanted it’ but realistically could have bought an entire restaurant, building included, and likely the building next to it too.He never raised the issue of a chaperone, which I was glad for.Moira would only report back, and my relationship with Enrique had barely progressed beyond curt nods on the rare occasions we passed each other in the halls.
I set off for Triz early the following day, feeling freer than I had in months, and reached the city by late morning.The winding streets were exactly as I remembered.Only the occasional home had its windows boarded, and fewer still had garlic hanging from the eaves.The people I passed nodded their hellos without a trace of suspicion.They were thin, but not gaunt.Perhaps not thriving, but certainly surviving.I wondered if they would still smile if they knew who I was.
The cathedral was perched on a plateau above the city, reachable only via a series of steep stairways carved into the stone.I found a post where I could tie Sovereign at the base of the first staircase and hiked the remaining distance on foot, grateful for the distraction.I didn’t know what sort of reception awaited me at the top, what sort of reputation Raleigh had here.Had I arrived at Orlfen as a stranger and declared myself the prince’s betrothed I would havebeen chased out with pitchforks, and I wasn’t particularly optimistic that it would be any different here.
I was out of breath by the time I reached the cathedral.Inside, amidst the cloying musk of centuries of worship, I found a woman dusting the altar.Keeping my voice hushed, I asked who I might speak to on an occult matter.She didn’t bother to feign surprise.‘You’ll need to speak to Father Leon.He’s usually in the gardens at this time of day.’She directed me to a private yard behind the main chapel, which I found to be full of grapevines covered in tiny berries.
I discovered Father Leon crouched between the vines, filling a basket with weeds.He was a squat little man, with watery eyes and loose skin, not much older than my father.He frowned when he saw me, tugging off his muddy gloves.
‘You’re not Clara Wagner, are you?’
