A woman sat on a stool, appearing to care for a baby in a bassinet, but as soon as she turned at James’s intrusion it was clear that she was a vampire. She rose, snarling, from her stool and launched herself at James, her fingers clawed talons and her fangs bared.
James dodged to one side and cut at the back of her leg, hamstringing her. She fell with a shriek of pain and outrage and James slashed her across the neck. His light blade struck bone and was turned aside, and at that moment he wished for a heavier blade.
He pulled the rapier free of the woman’s neck and hacked away at her outstretched arms. She recoiled in pain, scrambled backward, then tried to rise.
As she stood, James leapt forward, put his foot to her stomach and pushed her outside. Her wounded leg betrayed her: as she fell backward, James lashed out with his torch, catching the hem of her skirt with the flame and igniting it.
In moments the woman was rolling on the ground, trying to extinguish the blaze. James turned his attention to the interior of the hut. There was nothing in it except for a small table, the bassinet, and a bucket near the fireplace. There was no obvious hiding place, no chest or likely receptacle for an important item such as the vampire’s soul vessel.
James stepped forward and looked into the bassinet. He grimaced at what he saw: the body of a baby lay in it. It had obviously been dead for some time. Its tiny body was shrunken, the skin stretched over the fragile bones. But what was most repulsive was the red light which emanated from its body.
James hesitated, reluctant to touch the little corpse. Then, he put aside his revulsion and touched the child’s stomach. Something hard resisted his finger. He pulled out his dagger, swallowed hard and cut into the infant’s flesh. Inside the baby’s rib-cage a large ruby-colored stone glowed with an evil brilliance.
James was forced to break two ribs to remove the object. By the time he had done so, Jazhara had reached the door. “They’re all dead - “ She stopped, aghast. “What is that?”
James said, “I’m not sure, but I think the baby is the vessel.”
Jazhara stared at the red jewel. “Then that would be the Soul Stone,” she mused. She closed her eyes and made an incantation, then opened them and said, “There is a great deal of magic locked within that gem. And it reeks of evil.”
“What do we do with it?” asked James.
“Take it outside,” said Jazhara.
The howling of wolves could be heard, getting closer by the moment.
“Hurry,” she insisted.
James complied with alacrity.
Once they were both outside, Jazhara looked around. There!” she said, pointing to the woodcutter’s work-shed. In the corner was a small bellows and forge, where tools could be repaired and sharpened. She located at once what she was looking for.
“Put the gem on this anvil,” she instructed.
James did so. Jazhara reached over and took a small iron hammer and lifted it. “Avert your eyes!” she commanded, and James looked away.
He heard the smash of the hammer on the gem, then felt his skin crawl. A wash of energy made him physically ill and he had to fight to keep from retching. Next came a sense of loss and haplessness, a futility that seeped into his bones; that was followed by a blast of anger and rage that caused his heart to race and his eyes to tear.
He gasped and heard Jazhara also gasping. When he opened his eyes, he saw she had been unsuccessful in controlling her nausea.
Despite feeling light-headed and disoriented, the howl of the approaching wolves made him focus; he forced himself to become alert.
Then the sky shattered. Like a latticework of faint lines, the darkness was shot through with light. As if shards of a broken window fell from above, the black night disappeared. It looked as though pieces of the dark sky were falling down, only to dissolve and fade to insubstantial mist before striking the tops of the nearby trees. From behind each shard the brilliance of the day’s light shone.
Then, abruptly, there was daylight again - total daylight.
The howling of the wolf pack ceased, and the daybirds started singing.
“I didn’t expect that,” said Jazhara.
“Well, expected or not, I’m glad to see the sun again,” James replied. He glanced in the direction of the fiery orb and remarked, “It’s barely midday.”
“A lot has happened,” she said. “Come, we must return to the graveyard and see what has transpired there.”
They hurried back through the town and down the road to the graveyard. Along the way they saw the townspeople looking out of their doors and windows, astonished and delighted at the return of daylight. A few hardier souls had ventured outside, and were now looking at one another as if seeking reassurance that something approaching normalcy was returning.
They were out of breath and sweating from the returned heat of the sun by the time they reached the vault. Solon and Kendaric were still blocking the crypt door.
“Where have you been?!” cried Kendaric.
“You did something,” said the monk. “All manner of madness erupted inside here and then the sky above shattered. I assume the two were related?”