A Den of Tricks (A Shade of Vampire #54)

We bid our farewells and watched as Jax, Hansa, Caspian, Harper, Blaze, and Caia got on their indigo horses and left for the gorges. They darted down the main road and became small black dots crossing the two-mile plain separating the mountain from the Valley of Screams.

“Okay, we’ll head to the library next,” Scarlett said as Patrik moved closer to her.

“And we’ll go up to the South Bend Inn to find Cynara and Hera.” I nodded. “Surely they’ll have something interesting to tell us.”

“Let’s meet back here at midnight tonight,” Patrik replied.

We had half an afternoon and an entire evening left to cover as much ground as possible. Heron, Fiona, and I had agreed to use up some of the invisibility spell supply for the prison, just to get a better look at the prisoners. It was odd that they’d all been mind-bent, and we needed to ascertain the extent of their mental manipulation.

But first, we needed to check in on Cynara. The first night we met, just after our arrival, Cynara had acted strangely toward us. There was a fear in her eyes, an uneasiness that didn’t make sense. Hera’s explanation about losing family members in the abduction didn’t make me less suspicious, and Heron and Fiona weren’t buying it, either.

Even with the attack, the funeral, and the grief that had stricken the city, I’d yet to lose my doubts about the Maras’ treatment of Imen. Whether it was something innocent or downright nefarious, we needed to know.

Diplomacy or not, if the Imen were being abused in any way, on top of what was already happening with the daemons, I was going to raise hell in Azure Heights.





Avril





(Daughter of Lucas & Marion)





Heron used his mind-bending to persuade the Iman girl in charge of the South Bend Inn’s reception to tell us which room Cynara and Hera were in. We knocked on the door and were greeted by a baffled Cynara, her eyes puffy and tears still drying on her rosy cheeks.

“Hi, Cynara, I’m not sure you remember us,” I said, smiling gently. “I’m Avril, and this is Heron and Fiona.”

“Yes, I… I remember,” Cynara murmured. She frowned and avoided looking at us directly. I caught a glimpse of her sister behind her. “You were the Lords’ guests for dinner at the Broken Bow Inn.”

“And you’re here to help us,” Hera interjected, joining her sister’s side.

“That’s right,” I replied. “We’re trying to prevent last night from happening again, among other things. We’re all so sorry for your losses…”

Hera pushed the door open with a brief nod, but Cynara didn’t look happy about it. Somehow, the roles had changed. Last time, Hera had been the secretive one, protecting her sister and removing her from the situation. In all fairness, the Lords were watching during that dinner.

“Come in,” Hera said, and cleared the way for us. Cynara kept herself behind Hera, a concerned expression pulling her eyebrows closer.

We went inside, and Hera closed the door and locked it.

A couple of minutes went by in silence. I looked at Heron. He gave me a confident wink—he wanted to take control of the conversation. Hera and Cynara stayed close to each other, keeping some distance from us.

“We were wondering if you could tell us more about the Imen people,” Heron started, while Fiona and I glanced around the room.

There wasn’t much there that belonged to the girls. They’d probably lost everything in the attack. I noticed clothes on a chair and some toiletries on a dresser, but other than that, the room carried the neutral aspect of a guesthouse.

“What would you like to know?” Hera replied.

“How many Imen live outside the city?” Heron asked, his hands behind his back as he assumed a non-threatening posture. I figured he didn’t want to try mind-bending and was looking to see how much they could tell us on their own.

“To be honest, we’re not very sure.” Hera shrugged, while Cynara pulled a chair from the side and took a seat next to her. She seemed worn out, the sadness in her eyes rubbing off on me. “Our people separated thousands of years ago. We haven’t really stayed in touch with the Imen beyond the Valley of Screams.”

“Are there any records of them? The library didn’t have anything,” Heron said.

Hera and Cynara looked at each other, slightly surprised.

“Well, some of the elder Imen in the city keep archives, but nobody knows about them, especially not the Maras.” Hera nodded. “It’s a secret. Only a handful of us are aware, for that matter.”

“You managed to keep it a secret from the Maras? Why is that?” I asked.

“I… I don’t know exactly,” Hera replied. “I just know we have to keep it from them.”

Heron then looked at me, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“They’ve been mind-bent,” he said. “But the Maras never got to clear their memories about the Imen’s archives, because they had no knowledge of them existing in the first place. Call it a loophole.”

“I do have gaps in my memory.” Hera sighed, resting a hand on her sister’s shoulder. Cynara’s eyes were getting droopy—yet another sign of emotional and physical exhaustion. “There are things I don’t remember, but I should. And there are things I know happened, but don’t have a single image in my head to match them to. It’s like I know of certain events… but I can’t actually remember them. Is that also mind-bending?”

“It is.” Heron nodded. “And it confirms what I’ve suspected since we first got here. The Maras have been systematically wiping your memories, replacing ideas and facts in your heads… to fit a specific narrative, I suppose.”

“But why would they do that?” Hera shrugged. “We’ve been staying here voluntarily, living and working with them. Why would they mind-bend us?”

A moment passed as we thought about possible reasons. Fiona moved farther to the back, leaning against the window frame and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Are you sure you’ve stayed here voluntarily?” she asked, looking at Hera and Cynara. “What do you remember about it?”

“Just what we’ve always been taught,” Hera replied. “From the day we were born, we’ve been told that the Imen and Exiled Maras live in peace. We coexist and support each other, and Azure Heights is our home.”

“Do you remember your parents telling you that, specifically?” Heron narrowed his eyes, carefully analyzing the Imen girls’ expressions. They stared blankly ahead, then at each other as the unpleasant truth set in.

“No…” Cynara breathed, then gave us a frightened look. “Does… Does this mean they’ve mind-bent us into believing that?”

“Most likely, yes.” Heron sighed. “But I suggest you put that thought away for the time being, at least until we figure out what’s going on here. It isn’t safe for you to question anything that the Maras tell you at this point.”

The girls lowered their heads, their hands resting in their laps. They seemed genuinely distraught, and I couldn’t really blame them for feeling that way. After all, their whole lives could very well be blatant lies, and they had no control over their own minds. Their memories were incomplete, and some, if not most, weren’t even theirs to begin with.