‘You know me?’I asked in surprise.
He tapped his temple.‘Never forget a face.You used to come here with your father when you were this high.’He gestured somewhere around his waist.
‘I don’t remember you,’ I admitted.
‘Well, you were young.And I’ve seen your father since, of course.Helps keep the memory fresh.’He looked over my shoulder, as though expecting to see my father waiting.‘You came alone?’
I mustered my most innocent smile.‘The roads are safe at this time of day.’
‘Aye, you wouldn’t want to be travelling after dark.Though I’m surprised your betrothed allowed you to travel so far unchaperoned.’
My heart sank.‘You’ve heard the news, then?’
‘Of course!’Father Leon held his arms out to better emphasise his cheer.‘There’s been quite a heated debate among the clergy over whether we’ll be hosting the royal wedding in our humble chapel,though I’d wager His Serene Highness would opt for something less public.’He paused.‘Unless that’s why you’re here.Tell me it’s not.Don’t tell’—he pointed upwards, mouthingHim—‘but I have money on it being a private affair.’
I wasn’t sure what to say.No one had ever expressed excitement over our engagement before.‘We haven’t discussed the particulars,’ I said evasively.I wasn’t about to tell him that Raleigh would sooner return to court than set foot in a cathedral.
‘I knew it.He’s not a God-fearing man, that Linford.’For a priest, Father Leon looked far too delighted by that idea.‘Then what brings you to Triz, my dear?’
I took a breath.‘I need a weapon that can kill a vampire.’
Father Leon’s expression barely shifted.‘So no wedding, I assume?’
I held the look he gave me, not giving him any reaction he might interpret as confirmation to his true question.‘Someone else.’
‘Good.’The priest let out a breath.‘Prince Raleigh has been a blessing in these times, and it seems he’s given us a fraction of what he offers Orlfen.’
I frowned.I couldn’t think of a single thing Raleigh had offered Orlfen other than a dammed river and a decade of death.Perhaps he had Orlfen confused with one of the border towns; I wouldn’t have been surprised if Raleigh had put extra resources into keeping them prosperous to prevent questions from the other side of the border.
Father Leon must have misread my confusion, because he added, ‘The rest of the clergy think it’s folk superstition, but you don’t have to pretend it’s a secret with me.’
‘You don’t mind?’Of all the people who I thought might turn a blind eye to Raleigh’s nature, I never imagined it would be someone from the church.
‘I know enough about demons to know there are worse ones out there than the prince.He looks after us and keeps the otherslike him at bay.For that we have to be grateful.So.’He raised his brows.‘If it isn’t him, who are you looking to kill?’
‘I think it would be better if I didn’t say,’ I said.
‘Wise.Follow me.’He led me through the cathedral grounds, speaking in hushed tones as he went.‘No one here has training in these sorts of matters, I’m afraid.If you need a demon exorcised I’m your man, but anything more corporeal is out of the church’s hands.There used to be a family down the hill who called themselves hunters, long after Vienna outlawed vampire hunting.Used to take care of anything that found its way into the valley before Linford took residence on the hill, but they all died shortly after he returned.’
‘Raleigh killed them?’My voice caught in my throat.
‘That’s one theory.’We stepped into a stone staircase leading to the depths of the cathedral.The temperature began to descend as we did, the chilled air almost damp on my skin.‘Though there was one survivor who insists otherwise.’
So therewasstill a hunter in Europe.Raleigh was wrong.‘Where can I find him?’
Father Leon looked bemused.‘Not in Triz,’ he said slowly.
‘That’s not very helpful.’
‘No,’ he said, chuckling deeply.‘But this might be.’
He unlocked a heavily barred door and opened it to reveal what could only be described as a reliquary.Glass cabinets filled every inch of floor available, filled with scraps of cloth and bone shards.Father Leon surged ahead while I stumbled after him, trying my best not to trip on the strewn crates of uncategorised priceless oddities.
‘Is this real?’I asked, resisting the urge to lift what looked like a knuckle into the light.
‘Probably not.’He was too busy fiddling with the lock on a cabinet to see which piece of saint I was looking at.The lock clicked.‘Ah, here we go.Have a look at this.’
My breath caught.Inside was a dagger so masterfully crafted that at a glance you could be tricked into thinking it was an artwork.The blade was so sharp it looked like glass, tempered so evenly I could see my own expression blinking back.By contrast, the handle was blocky and top heavy, and it took me a moment to work out why.Held the right way, the dagger was a cross, forged from silver.It was a blade designed to kill vampires.
