“Ah!” the old woman responded, looking thoughtful. “Then he has placed his essence somewhere else.”
James looked at Jazhara who returned a blank expression. “I do not understand,” she said to Hilda.
Hilda shrugged. “I am no expert. Necromancy is the foulest of the arts and to be shunned.” She paused, then added, “But over time one hears things.”
“Such as?” asked James.
“It is said that some of the servants of the dark powers are not truly living; even those poor souls captured by this vampire master have a thread of life within; cut it and they fade,” Hilda explained. “But a few of the more powerful servants of evil have conspired to rid their bodies of mortality completely.”
“Then how do we destroy those?” asked Jazhara.
“Find the soul vessel. To attain such power, sacrifices are made, and what one gains on one hand” - she held out one hand — “one loses on the other.” She extended her other hand. “To make the body immortal, the spirit essence is placed somewhere close by. It is often protected by wards or hidden in such a way it is unlikely to be found.”
“We don’t have time for this,” said James. “That Vampire Lord is strong. Even now he may be out of the crypt and have overcome Solon and Kendaric.”
Jazhara said, “And if we lose Kendaric - “
James nodded grimly. “We had no choice but to leave him with Solon. But we must hurry.”
Jazhara said, “Where should we look? Will it be in the crypt with the master vampire?”
Hilda shook her head. “Unlikely. He will have brought it with him, but placed it someplace safe, as soon as he arrived.”
“Where was the first place he was seen?” asked James.
“The woodcutter’s cabin,” Hilda replied.
“Then that’s where we’ll look,” said James. “Which way do we go?”
“Run to Farmer Alton’s farm, and follow the road that passes east before his house. A mile beyond the last fence you’ll see a path into the woods and another mile beyond that is the woodcutter’s home. Tread lightly, for the Vampire Lord will have other allies.”
James glanced around. “It’s almost as dark as night now. Have you a lantern or torches?”
The old woman nodded. “Torches. I’ll get them.” She went inside and a moment later reappeared with three torches - one was burning; the remaining two were held in the crook of her arm. “These are all I have.”
James took the burning one and Jazhara took the two others. James said, “They will have to do. Thank you, Hilda, for all your help.”
“No thanks are needed.”
Jazhara said, “When all is done, I shall return and tell you of Stardock.”
“I will listen,” said the old woman.
James took a last look at the old woman’s face. “Good-bye,” he called. Then he turned, and hurried back toward the village. Jazhara followed him.
The old woman watched until they were out of sight, then turned and slowly walked back into her hut.
James and Jazhara ran most of the way, stopping only when feeling at risk. Through the town they went and onto the eastern road, until they left the road when they found the indicated trail.
The forest was plunged into darkness, as if noon and midnight had exchanged places. Moreover, no moon illuminated the way, and the murk was both unnatural and ominous. The trail was well-traveled, but narrow, and James had to fight the urge to jump at every single noise.
The daybirds had ceased singing, but the soft hooting of their nocturnal counterparts was also missing. The air was unnaturally still, as if the magic dampening the sun was also silencing the wind.
Suddenly the night air was rent by the sound of a distant howl. It was quickly answered by others.
“Wolves!” said James.
“Hurry,” Jazhara cried, and James started to go at such a pace that they risked injury on the narrow trail.
Dodging between the boles of trees and along rocky footing, they at last came to a small hut in a clearing. From within the hut came a red glow, which seeped through the cracks around the door and the tiny window next to it.
“Someone’s inside,” James cautioned.
“Someone’s outside,” said Jazhara, pointing.
Four figures emerged from behind the hut, all walking purposefully toward James and Jazhara.
Jazhara lowered her staff and again blinding lightning spilled forth from the tip. The leaves on the ground smoked as the lightning bounced along to strike the four creatures. The vampires struggled to keep moving but their bodies just twitched and shivered uncontrollably.
“Get inside!” Jazhara shouted. “I’ll deal with these.”
James ran past the quivering figures, two having fallen to the ground where they flopped like landed fish. He hardly slowed, but lifted his right leg and kicked hard against the door, smashing it inward.