The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

There’s a turn in the tunnel ahead. I take it, but instead of continuing on, I flatten myself against the wall. The demon lumbers through, running the way I should have gone.

When it sees I’m not there, it stumbles for half a second in confusion. That’s all the opening I need. I jump up, landing on its back, and thrust my claws into its hide with all the force I can muster.

It does not have the intended effect.

Instead of my claws breaking through, the thick, leathery hide breaks them. Pain such as I’ve never felt shoots through my hands as the claws snap at their bases. I scream out, and that is enough for the demon to catch me with one hand and hurl me off.

I crash into the wall with so much force the whole cavern shakes. My fingertips are gushing blood. I feel like something vital has been taken away from me. The demon opens its mouth, ready to spit one last devastating spire of venom right at me…

Suddenly, it stops. It’s head jerks up.

And then I see that protruding from its neck is some sort of glowing blue spear.

Venom and blood gurgle from the demon’s open mouth. It takes a drunken step one way, then the next—and crashes down to collapse on the floor in a giant heap.

Beth is standing on the other side, breathing hard, blood sweat coating her entire body.

“You killed it,” I say. My fingers have stopped bleeding. I can feel the healing process start to take place, but I have no idea how long it will be before my claws are fully restored.

“Yes,” she gasps. I’ve never seen her look more exhausted. She walks over and yanks out the spear. As soon as that’s done, the blue light winks out, and I see that the weapon was just a regular broomstick.

I push myself up. “How—”

She holds her hands up, motioning for me to wait. It takes her a few minutes to collect herself.

Finally, when she does, she straightens and says, “Not easily.”

I walk around the corpse of the demon to come to her. I put an arm around her back.

She gladly leans into me.

“When you lured the demon away,” she explains, as we walk back together, “the Currents became accessible again. Somehow it was the thing distorting them. I knew that if I simply grabbed them and ran after you they would squirm out of my reach the moment I got close. So, I had to enchant something, find some sort of object I could cast the weaves on and then tie them off.” She looks up at me. “It almost took more than I had. The final knot had to be spectacularly strong, so the weaves wouldn’t unravel. When I got close, they almost did, despite everything.”

“But how did you know the weapon would be enough to kill it?” I ask. I show her my hands. “The hide broke my claws.”

“I didn’t,” she says in a small voice and moves in closer to me.

We reach the part where Logan left us. “Now what?” Beth asks.

“I know the way out.” I nod in the direction. “But I wanted to wait here for a little bit, in case Logan intends to come back.”

We idle there for a few minutes of contemplative silence.

“Dagan,” Beth says after a moment. “If Logan was able to bring one demon here… it means he can bring many more.”

“We already have another one,” I say. “You saw it through me with your curse.”

“Some demons are able to exploit specific points of intersect in our realms,” she says, “and through them gain access to this world.”

“That’s how you think the other one came here?”

“Back then, your king didn’t have Blood Magic.”

I stiffen at the reminder. Of course, she’s right.

“So, you think that’s what he’s been doing?” I ask.

“Could be,” she answers.

We wait a bit more. Then it becomes too much. If Logan were going to come back, he would have done so already, given that his demon is dead.

“Let’s go,” I say, leading Beth to the exit that will take us to the rest of The Crypts.

We reach the door. I try it, sure that it’ll be locked.

To my surprise, it opens readily.

“Looks like he was sincere when he said you can come out if you win,” Beth notes.

I grunt in response. We’ve still got a very long way to go.

We start for the stairs that will lead us to the main floor of The Crypts. As we travel higher and higher, I keep testing for the presence of other vampires, but find myself feeling nothing.

“Where is everyone?” I wonder out loud.

“Maybe they’re gathering somewhere,” she says.

I give an uncomfortable hitch of the shoulders. “Perhaps.”

We reach the final level. Another door stands in our way. It opens easily as well.

We emerge in a long, wide, high-ceilinged corridor. Here the vast riches of The Crypts are on full display. Gold lines the walls, and high on the ceiling are epic paintings commissioned centuries ago for our king.

Beth lets out an impressed whistle. “Oh, wow,” she says. “I did not think it would be so beautiful.”

“Not the entire coven is like this,” I respond. “Let’s go.”

I set off one way, still straining to feel even one other vampire besides Beth, and still coming up null.

We walk a long way without any of that changing. A creeping feeling forms at the base of my spine.

“Something is wrong,” I tell Beth. “The Crypts are never this quiet.”

“The Currents aren’t doing anything strange,” she informs me. “Magic is fine here.”

I nod, and we continue walking.

At a juncture in the hall, I suddenly veer off. “Where are we going?” she asks.

“To my apartments,” I say. “There is something I have to get.”

Quickly, I hurry along the way. When we reach the residential quarters, everything is still quiet. All the rooms are empty.

I go all the way down the hall and reach my familiar door. I throw it open, half-expecting the room to have been wiped clean.

But everything is in place.

Quickly, I stride to the chest and throw it open. The dagger is there.

I take the belt with holster and put it around my waist. A feeling of satisfaction descends onto me when I have a weapon on me again.

“Good,” I say to Beth. “That’s done. Let’s go.”

We walk out of the room, back down the hall.

I start to wonder what the hell Logan expects. He greeted me down there, wanted me to be brought to him. He told me Riyu had been killed.

I grunt at that thought. Despite his abundant flaws, I’d grown somewhat fond of the little vampire. I wonder how he met his end.

“Dagan,” Beth says, tugging my arm. “I think I felt something. Down there.”

She points down one long corridor.

I concentrate, and then… there! There is a trickling of a feeling of another’s presence.

“That’s where the banquet hall lies,” I tell her. I take off in that direction. Beth follows.

As we get closer and closer, more of the presence trickles out.

Right as we’re about to reach the doors, Beth stops.

“There’s magic being done,” she tells me. “I can feel the Currents rebelling.”

I nod, take a step forward—and am floored when the collective presence of thousands upon thousands of vampires crashes into me.

They’re all in there. All celebrating. I can hear the sounds of the feast now, the roars of laugher, the swells of debauchery. All the sounds that were locked away by the magical barrier I just stepped through echo in my ears in the small, enclosed space just before the room.

Beth steps to my side. Her eyes go wide, and her mouth pops open.

“There are so many…” she says.

“Did you expect anything less?” I say with a wry grin and open the door.

Immediately, I’m greeted by a familiar scene. All The Crypt vampires are crowded there, shouting, laughing, enjoying themselves. In the midst of the room is a giant fountain filled with blood. Logan stands above it, on a raised dais by his throne, watching all of it with his crown lopsided on his head.

The moment I walk through the door, his eyes seize on me. A flash of confusion — or disappointment? — shows for a flicker.

And then he’s all smiles, wading his way through the crowd toward me.

“Stay close,” I warn Beth. “He did not expect us to survive.”

“I can tell,” she whispers.

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