Chapter 1

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Not many people travel at night. Horses cannot see the road beneath their feet, they are frightened by the cries of night birds, a rider may not see a branch reaching out and hit his head, a wild animal will attack... You never know. Experienced merchants and carters, even for a lot of money, will refuse to go somewhere in the dark. They'll ring the wagons, feed the horses, surround the camp with their grandfather's incantation, which comes from old times, and spend the whole night half-asleep with their weapons by their side. Even here, in what is considered the safe central lands of Taleya.

Taleya became a kingdom under the grandfather of the current ruler. Soon after it subjugated the last piece of land that had previously belonged to the kingdom of Salvatia. Arfan the First decided that the ruler of the largest state in the region could not be called simply "Grand Duke" and, so to speak, brought his legal status into line with reality. He also established a new system of feudal ties. Now his vassals of the first rank were not only the four former counts who received the title of sovereign princes but also the princes of blood - the ruler's brothers. True, in common speech, the former were called dukes, and the latter were called feudal lords. Relatives of blood vassals had a slightly higher status but were trusted much less. Although almost all large and wealthy cities with more than ten thousand inhabitants belonged to the ruling family.

The only exception was Lascaris. The possession of the dukes of Lash was originally a fortress built to prevent raids from the steppe, but thanks to its convenient location and the growth of trade, it became something more and now claims to be the third capital of the country.

Under Arphanus, the previously unstoppable expansion of the country to the west and north slowed down, and the southern borders were finally formed. There were objective reasons for this, both external and internal. The Plague had ravaged the world three hundred years ago, the initial period of general devastation was over, and full-fledged states began to form on the shores of the vast Good Sea. Some consisted of just one city and the surrounding countryside, while others included quite large territories.

Thanks to the wisdom, foresight, and cruelty of the late Duke Dinira, Taleya immediately emerged as a leader in the region. There had not been a power to rival her for a long time. A well-armed and trained army, a large supply of food and materials, the preserved cadre of officials, and the only Academy in existence allowed the ruler to establish a firm grip on a fairly vast expanse. The lands were cleansed of bandits and undead, the population grew steadily, allowing, in turn, to recruit more warriors for new wars and conquests.

However, gradually the initial collapse came to an end, and a slow, if slow, renaissance began. In the neighborhood, several powers emerged capable of competing with Taleya, if not alone, then in alliance with their neighbors. In the north, the Duchy of Lanaka united several human settlements under its rule, and its troops successfully resisted the Taleya in a series of skirmishes. At sea, the Archipelago of Dragons gradually gained strength, with ships under the flag of the Lord Captain even reaching the straits into the oceans. The southern borders reached the great river Cress and halted, stopping at the coastal forts of the Azar Sultanate. To the west, the Rin Mountains and the steppe behind them served as a natural barrier to further advancement, successfully protecting the free cities of the Seven Rivers from the encroachments of the descendants of Dinir. Two hundred years ago, the nomads had tested the strength of the then young Taleyan state and were cruelly beaten, and since then the western borders were considered peaceful.

The existence of a stable power benefited trade. Merchant galleys carried spices and cloth, bread and oil, leather, and weapons across the Good Sea. From the northern mountains, metal and precious stones were brought to the capital, and in exchange, the local nobility bought luxury goods and food. From the west came furs and textiles, wine and incense, bronze ware and wool, and back came caravans of blacksmiths, mages, and weavers.

The first pilgrims appeared. Most of them visited only those holy places that could be reached in a day or two, but some made long journeys even beyond the borders of the kingdom.

Thus, the main tracts of the state were never empty. Large and small groups of people, singles, merchants' carts, feudal units, monks, mercenaries, wagons of itinerant traders, or circus performers were constantly moving along them. They spread out through the villages like small streams, flowed like rivers into large cities, turned into lakes at fairs and markets, dried up in the hot summer harvest season, and almost disappeared in winter.

Few paid attention to the small detachment that left the capital and headed northeast. Noblemen often leave the city - some to their estates, some on other business. The waybill is in order, and fine. The lazy guards didn't even bother to look at the two coats of arms carriages and the heavily laden cart followed by a dozen armed riders. The patrols of feudal lords met along the way did the same, preferring to kick bribes out of merchants or check the documents of ragamuffins, possible runaway slaves. Thus, in six days, the travelers encountered nothing worth mentioning.

On the seventh squad turned onto a slightly overgrown country road and took a break.

Celesta was an ardent supporter of authority, in all its guises. As an undead, she preferred to know exactly from which side she might be threatened. Guardians, mercenary warriors of feudal lords, criminal rivals, and the sporadic interest of "associates" from the Secret Guard - that's the shortlist of problems a vampire might encounter in peacetime. If you create a dense enough network of informants and are not impudent to hunt, leaving behind corpses, then you can exist with sufficient comfort. In war, it is more difficult, even if it seems to be the opposite.

The number of people with guns, and ready to use them, increases exponentially; the imposition of curfews forces civilians not to party in the streets or cozy taverns, but to sit behind tightly locked doors in their homes; poor people seek shelter in such abandoned corners where a normal person would never have thought to look before. That is, in places convenient for lying down. No amount of easily accessible blood can compensate for the constant risk of losing one's head or waking up with a stake in one's heart.

With a certain amount of cynicism, the network of risen communities that enmeshed Taleya and some neighboring states could be considered a criminal clan, a powerful structure with connections in almost all sectors of society, engaged in illegal activities, and often ignoring the law. As the head of such a clan, Celesta also liked stability. Yes, troubled times provide plenty of enrichment opportunities, but enrichment was never the Night Mistress' goal - she was interested in survival. Her own and those of her loved ones. From her point of view, it is much more convenient to deal with one firmly nailed to the official, from whom you can not expect betrayal, than with dozens of successive novices, completely unpredictable and therefore dangerous. More precisely, betrayal is always to be expected, but this inevitable risk can and should be minimized.

Finally, as a civil servant, Celesta again preferred a steady hand. The steadily running bureaucratic machine afforded her plenty of opportunities. Some issues related to the education of newcomers or the conduct of various kinds of delicate operations were not solved or were solved at great expense. But a lot of doors were opened by the presentation of a corresponding order stamped and signed by, say, the Second Advisor to the Minister of the Left Wing of Palace. Unfortunately, during the weakening of the central government such papers were stamped for nothing, and did not have the same power and influence.

Like now, for example.

Absolute monarchy as a form of government has too many disadvantages. First of all, it is entirely oriented toward the personality of the ruler. If a genius sits on the throne, things are fine, but when the Mirror and the Sword are taken by someone like our Irrhan... I would not have been sent here under his father!

The anger she felt did not prevent the vampiress from gliding silently through the village. Thoughts and emotions had long since receded into the background, leaving an emptiness in their place. The men who had taught Celesta the proper way to hold a weapon had told her time and again that full concentration was always necessary for battle, and over the past three hundred years, she had been convinced they were right. Carelessness leads to the grave, and the enemy is never harmless.

Especially if he also belongs to the undead.

The Bonedigers got their name for their appearance and underground way of life. Swift, agile, and quite intelligent, they preferred to prey on children or lonely travelers caught at night far from settlements. They reminded Celesta of gutted snakes with their heads hacked off and their skin peeled off. Once the victim was caught between the "ribs," the predator burrowed into the ground, where it digested its prey for about three or four days, simultaneously forming the embryo of another Bonediger. The more humans - though animals were not disdainful - the undead ate, the more offspring they spawned, and the stronger, faster, more experienced they became.

The local feudal lords preferred to spend their time in the Capital, having fun with their peers and caring little about the lives of the peasants. They dumped their duties on the steward, who was not too hard-working either. Therefore, it is difficult to say how much of the Bonedigers hunted on the adjoining road. From time to time regular detachments of guards or merchant guards destroyed the juveniles, as evidenced by the records of rewards issued in the Viceroy's office, but how long the uterus lived in the local area, was impossible to find out. Maybe thirty years, maybe more. Be that as it may, merchants and commoners had recently preferred to use the trade route to the south, and the amount of food available had sharply decreased. The undead was forced to seek new sources of food. They had been hesitant to come near the village before, aware of the threat from the settlement with their small minds, but hunger had made them less cautious.

After the second man went missing, the peasants informed the steward. The steward ignored the paper. After the fourth man disappeared, they turned to the local chief of guards, who sent a small detachment to comb the neighborhood. A week later, the villagers spotted a young Bonedigers while hunting and stabbed her with a pitchfork, increasing the list of victims to seven, but reassured about their future. After the uterus carried off the ninth man, the village was deserted.

At the departure of the serfs, the steward reacted quickly. The first thing he did was to give the names of the fugitives to the guards, whose duty was to check the waybills and search for all kinds of criminals - including peasants who had left their master. Next, the steward penned a tearful letter to his lord, complaining of starvation, punishment by the gods, and the viceroy of the Son of the Sea in the province not properly performing his duties, with the result that the undead had multiplied beyond all measure and reason. On receiving this message, the nobleman in the capital went to his friend, the same lout, only the son of the Minister of the Red Hats, and asked to contribute to the solution of the problem. The son got excited and, since the village is relatively close, offered to go hunting.

The idea was greeted with enthusiasm by the established company of "golden youth," but daddy found out about it at the wrong time and took appropriate measures - the overgrown goofball was locked up at home, and reported the incident to his good friends from the Secret Service. Naturally, the words of an official of this level were given special attention. And they sent their most perfect, most reliable tool that was guaranteed to fix the problem: Celestа.

It's not me we need here, but a good hunting party, the vampiress thought with mild irritation as she surveyed another yard. With nets, traps, decoys, mooks, and other hunting tools. Although the first thing to do would have been to transfer the village to the government, to send the guards to the frontier, and to investigate the steward. Shall I write a denunciation? What's the point?

After taking a few more steps, Celesta stopped. The Bonediger was spatially oriented, sensing the vibrations of the ground, and the Academy's researchers rated its sensitivity very high. The night huntress moved easily, much more quietly than the best-trained human, but she could not attack the undead unexpectedly, no matter how much she wished. Nor would the Bonediger have no chance of getting close to the old vampire. From the first minute of their new existence, the Risen surpassed mortals in strength, dexterity, and hearing, and their abilities increased with time. In proportion to the neophyte's frequency of use and determination. Celesta had sought to improve herself from the earliest days of her post-life, studying the warrior craft and the few remaining magics, gleaning information about her new abilities piece by piece, tenderly cherishing every bit of knowledge she gained- and was now considered the strongest. And she preferred to improve herself in such a difficult area as the human soul...

The ability to sense the presence of all living and not-so-living creatures was a nice bonus to the chosen specialization. A side branch that the only thing that prevented me from paying the most attention to was the eternal lack of time.

Right now the vampiress could feel the creature lurking ten meters ahead. The earth could not hide the tattered aura of the undead, nor could it completely hide the sweet smell of rot emanating from the body. The problem was that it was difficult to penetrate the half-meter layer of caked soil, and if the first blow was weak, the creature would go deep. The tunnels it had dug had permeated the village like an industrious spider's web, a place to hide. If Celesta had remained a warm-blooded human, she might have baited the Bonediger, but she would not react to the undead, and at best she would try to hide. The creature would not engage in a knowingly losing fight.

A sword or a spear is not an option; that leaves magic. Celesta squinted slightly, not daring to show more displeasure - the blood magic available to the risen required a great deal of energy. She would have to make up for the waste from one of her escorts left in the bivouac after the battle, though she expected not to drink from anyone today. She could not give in to her thirst. It was not to be. She closed her eyes, concentrated, and went about her usual work.

Consciousness expanded, becoming too large and light for the material body, moving to another level of perception of the world and the energies permeating it. Celesta now seemed to herself to be standing in the middle of thick gray fog, the only colored spots in which were the auras of numerous living beings. The black and scarlet with greenish patches of decay caught her eye at once, standing out sharply against the faint green of the insects and plants. Undead reached for it with thin strands of mental probes, involuntarily recalling her first attempts at mind control. How little she knew then... The simplest hypnosis seemed the pinnacle of skill, and her first switch to twilight vision nearly ended in madness. She would never have guessed that she would someday be able to subdue the stupid minds of the damned creatures and place them at her service. Or would she simply order them to crawl to the surface and freeze?

Failure. The creature didn't want to leave its cozy hole and come to the surface. Her body was nearly ripe with another embryo, so the undead didn't want to move, but simply waited for prey. Celesta increased the pressure, pouring more power into the call. The undead became nervous, twitching, but continued to lie still. The risen felt her irritation, built up over the task, and she cried out mentally, ordering her prey to come. The energy put into the call caused space to ripple, accepting the release of its lavishly spent power, but the goal was achieved as the fire lizard slowly climbed out, exposing its ugly body to the starlight.

Celeste, careful not to let her bad mood affect her actions, began to cast a spell on the creature. Though the word "spell" wasn't quite the right word in this case - it was more a small interference with an energy body, designed to disorient someone in space and slow their movements. She fought back frantically. She didn't have many brains (to be more exact, she didn't have any at all. What she was thinking, the researchers have not figured out), but a well-developed instinct and life experience insistently advised to run and hide. Undead sorceress twice threw shackles on the mind of Bonediger to then safely come and cut it but was successful only the third attempt, and that's only partially. She was unable to paralyze the undead completely, but it moved its legs and tried to go back to its hole.

Didn't make it in time.

Barely returning to her normal worldview, habitually ignoring the mild shock, Celesta leaped forward. In a blurry motion, imperceptible to the human eye, she covered the distance between her and her prey and began to cut, trying to deny the undead any mobility. It's impossible to destroy a bone digger with a single blow, not even with silver. But it is possible to hack off limbs, cut off valuable ingredients that are worth two times their weight in gold, prick at certain points to suspend regeneration, and only then throw the carcass on the prepared fire. If you don't burn the undead body completely, it will have a chance to be reborn - albeit in a less threatening form.

At last, having finally turned her opponent into a stump bleeding with thick, stinking fluids, the undead woman stopped. The short and unspectacular duel had exhausted her, from the outside. She thought of calling the servants to finish the butchery, but Celesta gave it up. Poisonous fumes are dangerous to humans, and the madness that sets in when she's away from warm-blooded people is easier to control. Magic took a lot of her strength, and hunger stirred promisingly somewhere in the back of her mind, hinting insistently at the possibility of an onset.

The servants, of course, will not object and will quietly give their mistress's throat, but... You can't feed on the same people too often. She doesn't need junkies in her retinue.

From a bag prepared in advance came jars, immediately placed under the largest wounds, vials for bile, and containers for valuable organs. The loot was considerable, which made Celesta feel a little more reconciled to the inconvenience. Some will have to pass - and alchemists "spiders" and the Academy need ingredients, but the remaining in the personal possession of the products will go to the manufacture of precious elixirs or much more useful amulets. Hustin will be happy. The undead was old, abundantly fed for at least fifty years, such are now rare. In the old days, there had been far more impressive creatures in lands considered habitable. It is now, through the efforts of numerous units of feudal lords, armies, monastic orders, guardsmen, and other entities, that one can traverse a state from end to end without even being exposed to many risks. The risen who served the throne also did their part in the fight against the Darkness, as Celesta never tired of reminding them. It's nice to be considered useful.

If she is right in her assumptions, soon the services of undead hunters and those who live by the sword will be required more and more often.

Slowly, the creature's body stopped twitching, its flasks and containers filled up. The immobility of the creature did not mean death - rather, the process of moving to a lower level of existence. The undead looked around at the work of its hands, glanced up at the sky. It was still three hours before dawn. She concentrated and summoned those of her entourage whom she did not intend to take on the journey. Soon the muffled clatter of hooves was heard, and Latham emerged as a silent, reproachful shadow nearby. The bodyguard came without asking, as always.

"Mistress?"

"I'm here, Vital."

The riders drew nearer and dismounted. Vital, the eldest of her mortal servants, had served her for three decades and was trustworthy. With a slight nod and no unnecessary questions, he ordered his subordinate to pack up the loot. The second guard, meanwhile, was busy with the remains of the creature, covering them with wood and pouring oil on them.

"The trophies will be given to master Hustin - let him decide what he needs," Celesta gave her final orders. "If there are any difficulties, send a messenger immediately to Bardi. I won't be out of town for at least a month. And... bend over."

Years of control had kept the demon tightly bound, but the presence of warm-blooded creatures near made her whole body tense. A hint of pain, if not fed to the eternally hungry, insatiable entity. She had spent too much energy today, after all. The man obediently got down on one knee, so that his neck was just at the level of the miniature risen's lips, and tossed his hair aside. His eyes gleamed expectantly. Celesta inadvertently put her donors into a mildly pleasant trance, causing many to yearn for a drug-like kiss again and again and consider themselves in some way blessed by the Night. Most of the servants, however, were in awe in the presence of all the risen - even among those who didn't think it necessary to play with their minds.

When she'd had enough, the undead let go of the man and waited until his eyes made sense. She took one last look at the scene of the fight, then turned and headed for the waiting carriage with blinds. She did not look behind her. One more night, one more battle, one more brief moment of what might be eternal unlife.

Now Bardi was waiting for her.

"Latham, when you sulk, you become like a resentful child."

The bodyguard, who was walking behind her, pressed his lips together irritably. Messena is in a good mood, Messena makes jokes. He was well aware that Celesta was stronger than him, older, more experienced, and more dangerous, but his childhood upbringing and his own notions of honor made the former aristocrat disapprove of shenanigans such as this. A woman should not take up arms!

Celesta thought otherwise. Even leaving aside the question of the undead's gender - the risen are notoriously incapable of procreation, and the difference between the former men and women is purely external - the ability to defend oneself is necessary. Their long lifespan provides a sufficiently large number of threats, which cannot be dealt with without constant training. And the training does not always save you. In addition, people preferred to get rid of the undead, from which they did not see the benefit. It's easier now but in the old days...

It was hard for the first hundred years. Very hard. The backbone of the Security Service then consisted of officers who had no mystical fear of the ghoul, but who never missed an excuse to humiliate and jab her in any way. In their eyes, when they turned on Celeste or the other undead, you could detect disgust, squeamishness, as if you saw something smelly sticking to your shoe, or mild contempt - but no fear. The old spells, cast on the living before the Plague, were partly still in action, and most of the "spiders" were of ungenerous nobility. They lived long lives. Magic was commonplace for them, so they did not surround the risen with a mystical aura. But they had an incredible experience in intrigue, were well versed in psychology, and exhibited a prohibitive sense of danger.

Kardeh, who insistently "invited" Celesta into the service, and his successors kept the undead on a short leash. No outside sources of income, regular reports on contacts with mortals, records of all places where they lay during the day... Independence had to be fought back literally in bits and pieces, pushing the limits of what was allowed a hair at a time. The existence of various sects of Dark One worshippers was a great help in this - the secret service needed someone capable of controlling the Morvanites, and vampires were ideally suited for the role of shepherds.

Gradually, the Taleya risen community began to enjoy more freedom than it had originally enjoyed. Under the pretext of tracking the city's gangs, they forged mutually beneficial ties with smugglers and secretly invested in the businesses of more respectable merchants. The authorities recognized the undead's existence as useful, and Celesta was allowed to establish small colonies in other cities in the kingdom. Formerly, intelligent the living dead were either sent to the capital or, more often, simply killed. The cultists eventually made up the future servants, who were loyal and reasonable enough not to let themselves slip into a completely rabid fanaticism. Little by little, some families had served the Darkness and its undead incarnations for generations and sought no other fate.

However, there were still plenty of reasons for discontent and reasons to be extremely cautious. Without the permission of the "spiders," the communities could not admit new members, were obliged to report any moves in the Morvanite sects, and never, ever, under pain of being exposed to the sunlight, develop aristocrats on their own. Only those whom the hand of superiors will point out, and even then with extreme caution. In practice, the bored "golden youth" often dabbled in forbidden magic, drugs, or other ways of violating morality - they could not avoid the attention of Celesta's informers, but they still had to behave with the utmost caution.

The Risen, come to think of it, had no need for proximity to authority. Their interests centered on two areas - the exploration of their own nature and the security of their existence, but in both, they constantly encountered human obstacles. They were not allowed to study or develop their postmortem abilities, believing it dangerous to put too much power in the hands of ghouls. Even Hustin had no opportunity to research his kindred, having to limit himself to the Academy-approved topics.

At the same time, for ideological or other reasons, many people wanted to destroy the undead, forcing them to unite and be proactive. That is, to send spies to the most radical temples, to monitor the political situation, to intrigue against dignitaries hostile to the undead, and to use other methods that allowed a small group to survive - if only that word was appropriate here - in a dangerous and cruel world. And any activity required resources, and not necessarily monetary ones...

Celesta desperately needed helpers. More accurately, comrades, that is, those who shared her goals and morals. With people rising less and less frequently every decade, and with community numbers growing slowly, if at all, the most influential undead Taleya had to feed her staff hunger on the outside. She spread her influence not only through the lands of the kingdom but everywhere she could reach, establishing new communities, which in turn needed leaders loyal to her personally and at the same time sufficiently independent. A vicious circle that could not be broken.

And it is not clear how to live further. Any intelligent creature needs some kind of goal, a reference point, to which it will strive and to which its actions are subordinated. Celesta, quite frankly, has achieved everything she wanted. Three hundred years ago she promised Medea that in time they would have a home, influence, the ability to live alongside people without hiding, and now they have it all.

With reservations, but they live in safety and comfort. At any rate, compared to any palace dignitary who daily risks getting a silk suicide cord from his "beloved master" or a portion of poison from numerous jealousies. And then what? Intrigue, aspire to become a gray cardinal of the dynasty? Power for power's sake never appealed to her. Continue to expand her influence in the undead world? No point, her word is already the law for miles around. Besides, if the undead really does stop coming back after death, they will soon become extinct species thanks to the efforts of humans. I mean, they will remain only in legends and tales.

What was lacking was independence. Especially lately, when the level of stupid or unenforceable orders has exceeded the conventional norm by an order of magnitude.

The signs of the coming storm were clear, and a worried Celesta decided to take some rather risky steps. She didn't want to die - she hadn't lost interest in life, despite her age. If a serious quarrel between high aristocrats really did break out in Taleya, it would be better to wait it out in a safe place. At any rate, a safe haven abroad wouldn't hurt. So she put aside her other affairs and, taking advantage of a good excuse, left the capital. The village with the monster in it lay just down the road toward the northern principalities, which had suddenly become extremely attractive from the point of view of the worried Mistress.

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