Chapter Twelve

Pressure Points

Inerys had never been anyone of any great importance. She hadn’t been born into one of the noble families, nor had she been deemed gifted enough to be inducted into the Sorcerers Guild as a child. Aside from an innate affinity for surviving the Wilds, she was unremarkable. Or, so she had thought.

She settled further into her seat, processing the man’s words. Intercontinental. The world was expanding a bit too fast, even for her tastes. She’d only recently learned of the world beyond the Wilds, now her life had been tangled up in entire continents? It was a difficult fact to accept.

“Can you start at the beginning?” She asked, “so I can understand. Or try to, at least? Why were you out in the forest that day in the first place?”

Ruslan’s expression grew pensive, his lips thin. “A few weeks ago, Ayduin and I were dispatched along with a few others to track down an escaped prisoner from Saeducar. It’s a continent due west governed by the Sanguine Court. Up until recently, our relations with them have been spotty at best. They tend to keep to themselves. Hence why your presence here will likely become a subject of interest.”

“The woman in the woods,” Inerys began, “she was the one you were hunting?”

He nodded. “Her name was Ezra, one of three Arcs that led the Court. According to the remaining Patriarch, she slew their fellow Matriarch unprovoked and fled shortly after. The Keldran Empire’s High Council managed to intercept her when she passed through one of the waystones further north. However, she managed to escape custody a few days later. Our team had been on her trail a little over a week before we managed to corner her along the Veil’s border.”

“The Veil? I was out in the Wilds when she attacked me.”

“You were,” he said, almost hesitantly. “The Veil is a sort of boundary that separates our world from yours. It actively suppresses the spiritual core and exhausts magic reserves over time. The higher your Ascension, the more of an effect the Veil has. Which was why we were able to contend with the Matriarch at all. Comparatively, our Souls were weak enough to function in or near the Veil while also being strong enough spiritually to subdue Ezra. Even still, we had to take precautions.”

“I see,” she said.

Inerys remembered the arrow shaft in the woman’s shoulder. At the time, she supposed she hadn’t properly registered it. She’d been too focused on the blood and after that, well, she’d had no control over her own body. She’d been too terrified to think beyond the woman’s fangs. She shivered at the memory. Perhaps it was a blessing she remembered so little else after the bite.

“Am I some sort of witness, then?” She wondered.

“I suppose you are, but no, that’s not why you’re here. That day in the woods, Ezra turned you. Inadvertently, I’m sure, but unfortunately it changes nothing. You are of her bloodline now, which makes you one of her heirs. In a way, it makes you a member of her House. From here on out, you will be treated as such and thus, fall under the direct protection of the Talhavar. It will be my duty to see you safely delivered back to your people.”

Ice crept through her veins.

“My . . . people?” She asked, voice fainter than a whisper.

Dread slowly crept in, stalling her breaths.

“They will have the resources you need to repair your Soul,” Ayduin said.

Ruslan nodded. “If anyone can heal your body in its entirety, they can. We can help stabilize your foundation in the meantime, but beyond that, you’ll require experience and resources that are beyond our reach. As a vampire, you’ll need the expertise of one.”

“I don’t need their expertise, what I need is to go home. I have a family. People who need me,” Inerys said, rising from her seat.

Ayduin and Ruslan shared a look, but the latter was the one to speak first.

“You have my sympathies, but I cannot allow that. Especially in your current state.”

“Then fix me and send me back. I have no place in a world like this and we all know it,” she said.

She’d walk back herself, if it came down to it, consequences be damned.

“Even if we managed to repair the damage done in full, sending you back would be dangerous. Not only for yourself, but for your family.”

“Why, because you’ll come after them?”

His expression grew grim. “No. But you might. You’re a vampire now, Inerys and I’m not sure you fully understand what that means.”

She sighed. “I know I need blood.”

“And where do you plan to get it?”

“I’m a hunter, there'll hardly be a shortage,” she said with a soft snort.

He raised an eyebrow. “Do you really think rabbit blood will be enough to sate you?”

She paused, thinking back on whatever blood the apprentice had given her this morning. It was weaker, somehow, than what she’d had yesterday. She felt irritable, sure, but she was fairly certain that stemmed from these Talhavar baring her from her home.

“I can manage,” she finally said.

“For a time, maybe, but one day your spirit will need more. You’ll want more. When that time comes, the Wilds won’t be your only hunting grounds.”

Nausea welled. She’d end up like Ezra, wouldn’t she? The memory of that monster rattled her to her core. She hadn’t stood a chance, and would have been dead, if it hadn’t been for Ruslan. If she turned on her family, on Vidaar, that would be the end of it. Inerys shuddered and sucked in a shaking breath that bordered on a wheeze. She couldn’t stomach the thought of harming her younger brother. Or Nan.

At the very least, they’d have her trust. With those funds, they could live comfortably for years. Or at least until Vidaar was able to find work of his own. Perhaps by then, there would be something she could do for them.

“There aren’t any alternatives?” She asked.

As much as she wanted to repair the damage to her body, she wasn’t sure she could face another vampire. Not if they were anything like Ezra, had been. The thought of an entire continent full of them all but made her skin crawl.

“Unfortunately no,” Ruslan said.

Given his tone, Inerys had the feeling he was about as thrilled about the situation as she was. She could see why. He would have to face the vampires and their court as well. Selfishly, she was grateful she wouldn’t have to face them alone. In truth, she had few options.

She could always run away. Provided she could actually escape. If they were still in the Sages Tower, she might have had a chance, but now it was all but impossible. She was a huntress with no experience beyond the Wilds, not a soldier. And on top of that, she hardly knew the city. On the off chance she managed to flee, then what? Her body was still in ruin and her newly born magic was eating her alive from the inside. She’d have a month, at best and she wasn’t fool enough to believe she would stumble across someone who happened to be willing or able to help her.

She toyed with her new gloves, a fine set of black suede, her gaze having fallen to the floor. Death or salvation by the hands of monsters. There wasn’t much choice, was there? She took a deep breath, steeling herself.

“There’s something else to consider,” Ruslan said, “Given Ezra’s actions against the court, there’s a chance they may reject you simply because of your relation. Instead of welcoming you, they may kill you outright.”

Inerys’ heart clawed its way into her throat. “What? Why?”

“You’re a stranger with a convenient sob story,” Ayduin said. “A vampire created outside their supervision in rival territory by a woman who openly betrayed the court by slaying one of their most powerful leaders. For all they know, you’re a spy who’s been in league with Ezra from the beginning. She fled toward the Veil, after all. No one knows why, of course, but spontaneously creating an heir by assailing some poor girl who just happened to be in the woods is suspicious at best.”

Inerys paused. She hadn't considered that. As much as she wanted to argue, the woman had a point. Of course, she knew the truth of what happened, but it was unlikely they’d take the word of a stranger alone. Perhaps she was simply prolonging the inevitable.

Ruslan visibly flinched.

“I wish I could say otherwise, but she’s right,” he said.

“It makes sense,” Inerys said.

“We may be able to petition the remaining Patriarch for a trial, if not an oath,” he said, to which Ayduin shot him a glance.

"If you think it will help, I won't turn down the possibility," Inerys said.

All things considered, the revelation changed little. She still faced death either way. The best she could hope for was mercy on this Patriarch 's part. She was unfamiliar with oaths, but perhaps she could give one of her own. After all, she had nothing to hide.

Ruslan studied her for a moment, as if he were somehow still in need of some convincing, but eventually relented.

"We'll prepare you for your next physical Ascension, then. Perhaps even the following one. After that, we'll travel north to the Council. We'll need to give our full report to them in person before we travel to the Sanguine Court. In the meantime, I'll send word to both the council and the court."

"How long do you think it will be until we travel?" She asked.

"At the moment, that depends on you," he said. "A week or two, at minimum."

She blew out a breath. "All right.”

Inerys wished they could leave now. She knew it was impossible, of course, but the anticipation was likely to devour her in the meantime. Perhaps training for these Ascensions would help. She hardly knew what they entailed, though.

“I know it’s a lot to take in,” Ruslan said, “I’m sorry. For what it’s worth.”

“There’s certainly more to the situation than I thought,” she admitted.

“Indeed,” he said gravely.

What would the court expect of her? She wasn’t a diplomat by any stretch, nor had she been properly trained in any formal respect. She had manners, of course, but she was fairly certain there was more to courtly etiquette than pretty smiles and pleasantries. She’d likely make a fool of herself.

"For now, I'd say it's far past time to find something to eat," Ayduin said. "You hungry?"

"So long as it's actual food, yes," Inerys said.

She'd had quite enough blood for one day.

The woman waved a hand. “It will be. Might not be what you’re used to, but once you have something substantial in your system, it will be easier to teach you to process essences.”

“Essences or no, I’m starved.”

How many days had it been since she’d eaten? Three? Four? The more she thought about it, the more her stomach ached. She held a hand to it, worrying it might make its displeasure known with yet another audible declaration.

“I can handle her from here, if you want to contact the all mighties,” Ayduin said.

“Thank you. I shouldn’t be long,” he said, then grimaced, “but considering the last time I said as much, I can’t make any promises.”

“I’m sure we can entertain ourselves in your absence,” she hummed, “besides, the wyverns could use some company.”

“Wyverns?” Inerys asked.

“Ayduin . . . “ Ruslan warned.

“Yes?” She cooed.

“Do play nice, will you? She’s been through enough. She hardly needs a heart attack on top of it.”

She returned a particularly feline smile. “She’ll have to meet them eventually. Besides, meditation is easier up top.”

Ruslan grumbled something. “Just be careful. I’d prefer Inerys not fall to her death.”

She shrugged. “She’s a vampire now. She’d probably survive.”

Inerys found herself distinctly annoyed. “I’d really rather not.”

Even if she did survive, she couldn’t imagine it was a pleasant affair.

Ruslan shot the woman a withering glare.

With a roll of her eyes, she threw up her hands in exasperation. “Fine, I’ll be careful. Now off with you, lest you bring the wrath of the Patriarch down upon us with your tardiness.”

Sighing, he shook his head.

“I’ll have some food sent up,” he said and took his leave.

Inerys watched him go, her gaze lingering a moment as she wondered just what sort of entertainment she was in for.

“Come along, Red. You can help me redress a few wounds while we wait for something to eat,” Ayduin said.

Reluctantly, Inerys stepped off after her.

“What is a wyvern, exactly?” She asked.

“Better to show you. Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise.”

“I’m beginning to dread surprises . . .”

Ayduin only chuckled to herself.

Their trip through the lift was marginally better the second time around, though Inerys still had to take a moment to regain her bearings. She teetered on her feet and had to place her hand along the wall as the doors drew open to reveal a long, arched corridor left open to the night. There was a slight chill to the air, yet Inerys hardly noticed. Her attention was focused elsewhere.

On them.

She caught their scent first, like a rainless thunderstorm with an almost metallic tinge. Two distinct Souls made their presence known, slipping beneath her skin and washing through her in a cool, prickling wave. Their gaelid touch slithered along her Shackles, inspecting the smooth, undulating planes of magic buried within her. A shiver raced up her spine at the intrusion. Could anyone pick through her body as they pleased? If there was a way for others to invade, surely there was a way to keep them out. She made a mental note to ask Ruslan about the matter as she and Ayduin emerged into an arena-like space.

She froze.

Hanging like a spider from the second level of a three-tiered outer structure, was a massive reptilian creature of burnished copper. Two membranous wings, each tipped with two taloned, finger-like appendages, supported the creature while its lengthy tail anchored it in place from an enormous archway along the level above. A proud set of black horns crowned the beast’s arrow-shaped head, several smaller pairs of which sprouted along the curve of its jawline and down beneath its chin. From nose to tail, similar spikes ran the length of the spine, save for the space at the base of its long, serpentine neck. A saddle rested between its shoulders, strapped into place by a complicated rigging that encompassed much of the creature’s chest and underbelly.

“Red, meet Vaelar,” Ayduin said.

Inerys was too baffled to fully register the nickname.

The wyvern’s nostrils flared and he fixed her with a pair of slitted, startlingly blue eyes. A long, forked tongue a shade darker than its gaze flickered out to taste the air between them. Slowly, its lips pulled back over gleaming white fangs the length of Inerys’ forearm. A growl issued from its throat, reverberating through the stone and into her bones.

Within moments, her initial terror dissolved. The monster inside her reared its head, registering the creature’s challenge and rising to meet it. Stubborn, arrogant pride surged through her blood, hot and true. Some small part of her human mind recoiled, a distant spike of alarm amid the sea outrage. How dare this beast challenge her. She answered his growl with one of her own.

She rooted herself in place, squared her shoulders and raised her chin. She wouldn’t be cowed by him, nor anyone else. Vaelar snorted. Slowly, he lowered himself down from the wall and prowled across the aviary floor, his gaze locked with hers. The creature was massive and yet, she did not shy away. To look away first was to yield.

And her blood bowed to no one.

The wyvern advanced until the tip of his snout was mere inches from her face. There was a charge in the air between them, a meeting of power, or perhaps magic, that spoke to her Soul. She sensed a flare from what she assumed was the creature’s spirit, a sort of demonstration, she assumed. She reached inward, attempting to replicate it. Her magic fizzled and rose, but the Shackles ultimately smothered any true power. Inerys growled her frustration, flexing her fingers.

The soft fabric of her gloves tightened along her wrists. Subtle, yet enough to make her pause as her common sense slowly returned to her. There was something inside her gloves, along her finger tips. And she was staring down a wyvern.

Though her initial outrage ebbed, some of that stubborn arrogance remained. Without it, she would have balked and fled the moment Vaelor had so much as twitched. As frightening as the sudden onslaught of emotion had been, she was grateful for it.

For a long moment, neither she nor Vaelar moved. Now, fear more than pride kept her rooted in place. He could devour her without a second thought, if he truly wanted to. Instead, those fathomless eyes bore into hers, studying, weighing. His snout dipped toward her side, where her hands threatened to tremble. His huffs were subtle, yet created a distinct, high whistle.

Then, he simply turned away. He moved with surprising grace, given his size and Inerys was left wondering why he didn’t swallow her while he had the chance. She lost a shaky breath and shivered as the song in her blood subsided. What had she been thinking? She had the gaul to growl at a creature like that? A mouse would have a better chance of frightening a wolf.

She glanced down at her hands and quickly pulled off her gloves. Shining, black talons tipped each finger like polished obsidian, not unlike Vaelar’s own horns. Tentatively, she flexed her fingers, finding she could extend and retract her new claws independent from her fingers. Gooseflesh rose along her arms, yet at this point, this new development was just another oddity. A new feature of her new body.

"Those will come in handy," Ayduin said.

She spared her a glance. The woman was casually leant against Vaelar's neck with her arms folded across her chest. The amusement on her face was enough to make Inerys glower despite the wyvern's massive head resting beside her.

"I take it few people are mad enough to growl at a wyvern?"

"Few have the stomach for it," she said, "but that wasn't really your doing, was it?"

"I'm not sure what came over me."

Ayduin raised an eyebrow. "You expect me to believe that?"

"What else is there to say?" She asked, resisting the urge to snarl, "I'm not the only one in my own body anymore. There's this thing inside me."

As her anger rose, so did her claws. She felt the Shackles tighten, bearing down on her spiritual core. The glowing fractals along her arms flared bright, pulsing as her breath was forced from her lungs. Her knees buckled a heartbeat later, though Ayduin broke her fall.

"Easy now, Red, I meant nothing by it," she said, "get yourself too worked up and I'll have to carry you back to the Sage's tower."

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

"Don't be, it’s Ezra’s doing, not yours.”

“Will it always be like this? The anger, I mean?”

Ayduin ‘s brow furrowed. “Time will tell. If you’re strong enough, you should be able to tame Ezra’s fire before it overwhelms you.”

“Right,” Inerys sighed.

Yet another battle, then.