Alchemy, Book Two of the Mercian Trilogy (24 page)

A blue light burst from the wound, as if that in itself had removed the head from its body, the entire form of the creature disappearing then in a brief dazzling pulse of energy. Marcus stumbled in surprise.

The other vampire had been rushing blindly towards Eloise, but it stopped, squinting in pain, then saw a tray of surgical instruments on a workbench in front of it. The memory of those implements appeared to fill it with hatred and it swiped them off the bench, sending them flying across the room towards Marcus.

Marcus fell backwards, dropping his sword, and tried to cover his face as the scalpels and drills crashed into him. He scrambled to get the weapon back, but the vampire was too fast. It jumped down to get the sabre, then swiped it through the air at all of them as it steadied itself. Marcus retreated cautiously around the edge of the room back towards Will and Eloise.

Will moved a little to the side so that Eloise was behind him, but then said, “Enough! There is no need for this, and no need for you to be afraid. I am William of Mercia and I give you my word that we mean you no harm.”

“He’s here,” said a quiet voice from the cages, but only once.

“Ha!” The creature kicked a nearby table, sending it flying to the far wall where it smashed into the shelves of specimen jars. His fury was all the greater now. “If I’d known that, maybe I would have been spared this!” He gestured at the wounds on his face.

“He tortured you for information about me?”

“Tortured? You don’t know how he tortured, thinking I lied to protect you.” He laughed, a pained, bitter laugh. “I don’t know who you are, I don’t care, and I would’ve taken you to him on a stake myself if he’d let me go.”

“He is the one,” said the quiet voice behind. “From four will come one. He’s here.”

The creature didn’t risk turning, but shouted, “Shut! Up!”

Marcus had completed his cautious retreat and was alongside Eloise now.

“Sorry I lost the sword.”

Will heard Eloise say, “You were amazing, quite simply amazing.”

“I agree,” said Will.

The creature looked at him and said, “I agree too, with whatever nonsense it is you discuss. Now, William of Mercia, as you’re here … why don’t you get out of my way.”

His meaning was clear.

Eloise’s voice sounded close, her breath falling hot on Will’s neck as she said, “We’ll both shine our torches at him at once.”

“Not this time,” said Will. “When this starts, move over to the door. Should I lose, get out of that door and bolt it – it will give you a little time. Now stand back.”

The creature stared at him, trying to decipher what was going on, showing enough intelligence to keep his craving under control, though Will could easily imagine the agonies he had to be in.

Will said, “Do you have a name?”

“I am not an animal, as you well know. Why does it concern you?”

“It’s a common courtesy, in such circumstances, to know the names of those you kill.”

“A valid point. But then I already know yours.”

He lunged forward, holding his sword out wide, ready to swing it round towards Will’s head. And in the depth of the creature’s blood-famine, he had failed to notice that his opponent was left-handed. Will stepped nimbly to the right and struck the creature’s neck with such force that the blue light itself exploded across the room, licking round the broken specimen jars before disappearing.

“He’s here,” said a quiet voice.

Will crouched down and picked up the sword, still touched with flashes of blue light, and held it out for Marcus to take. Marcus and Eloise hadn’t even moved towards the door, but then Will was surprised himself at the speed with which he’d dispatched the creature.

He smiled and said, “That was easier than I thought.” He looked at Marcus. “And I agree with Eloise – your skill with a sword is remarkable. You have never been trained?”

Marcus shrugged. “I didn’t think about what I was doing really. Just instinct, I suppose.”

“He’s here.”

They turned back to the third vampire who remained sitting on the floor, ignoring the open door of his cage.

Will was about to speak when a strange noise tore through the cellar, coming from the room beyond, a sound like metal being wrenched apart. There was a shuddering smash and the ground beneath their feet seemed to shake with the impact. The last of the bottles and jars fell to the floor and shattered. A second crash followed, and dust fell from the ceiling above them.

They all looked at the door to the neighbouring room, where Marcus had said Asmund’s master might be. Only the vampire in the cage seemed oblivious. A
moment later, the door was torn away from its hinges and thrown across the room as if a bomb had been planted behind it.

As the noise faded, a rustling could be heard in the corridor beyond, and Will could hear the soft fall of footsteps. They stared, all three of them, waiting, knowing that this creature had not been released, but had apparently chosen its moment to break free.

None of them expected what followed. Asmund’s master, or so it seemed, emerged slowly and with care, as if still getting used to walking after a long confinement. But Asmund’s master was a woman. Will could only assume Asmund had spoken of a master because he hadn’t wanted to admit that he’d served and had been bitten by a woman.

She was tall, wearing a long, black dress which had gathered dust. Her hair was red and fell in waves down her back. She was ghostly and slender and sternly beautiful. As she emerged, she looked down at the vampire in the cage.

“He’s here,” he said.

Her voice when she spoke had the kindly but superior tone of a lady speaking to a loyal servant, “I hear you – hush now.”

She turned slowly to look across the room and the moment she saw Will she let out a single laugh, exposing
gleaming white fangs. She appeared overjoyed and speechless at the sight of him.

Almost instantly though, she grew concerned and said, “My Lord, you should not have come here. This is the sorcerer’s lair.”

“The sorcerer is not here, and besides, I do not fear him.”

She laughed again, beaming with what appeared to be pride.

“But My Lord, I would have come to you when the time was right.” She closed her eyes for a moment, before saying, “There is much to tell, and much to be done, but first, as is custom, I will accept your offerings with gratitude.”

Will stared at her in surprise, and only realised too late what it was she thought had been brought as offerings. She reached out a hand and Eloise screamed and flew across the room towards her, falling stunned into her grasp.

Marcus let out a cry and stepped forward immediately. Will didn’t move, but shouted, “Stop!”

He had sensed rightly that this woman looked upon him with some degree of awe. She still held Eloise close to her, but she looked at Will as if trying to understand his anger.

“These people have not been brought as offerings,
and I forbid you to treat them as such.”

The lady smiled sweetly and spoke with a pleasant voice that Will mistrusted.

“My Lord, I am Elfleda. Was I not his queen? Indeed, I am still his queen, as I will be until your time is come. Do you not think then, My Lord, that it is appropriate to bring me offerings?”

He recalled the torment this queen – Elfleda, whose name he had not known until now – had inflicted upon Asmund from a distance. He reasoned that it was better to pacify her than to argue with her.

“That is so, and forgive me Elfleda, but this is Eloise, the girl of whom it is spoken in the prophecies.”

She smiled again, as if there had been a misunderstanding, and then spoke as sweetly as she said, “Don’t you think I know that?” There was only a fraction of a second in which to act, as she pulled Eloise towards her and opened her mouth to expose her fangs.

Will leapt forward, but Marcus was already closer and struck with lightning speed towards Elfleda’s neck. Her reaction was even quicker, hurling Eloise aside, her body flying through the air and crashing into the broken shelves. At the same time, Elfleda raised her other arm and Marcus spun and flew into it just as Eloise had.

It didn’t deter him and still he tried to raise his sword, but she responded with a vicious animal snap, like a dog
lashing out, biting his hand and forcing him to drop the sabre. She held him in front of her body like a shield, forcing Will to hold his ground.

“What misunderstandings,” said Elfleda sweetly, as if truly baffled by the turn of events.

She was quite calm, but appeared to be trying to think what she should do next. Marcus was in no doubt. Even held immobile, suspended in mid-air, his eyes caught Will’s and looked down towards his other hand where he still held his torch. Will understood his meaning and nodded, preparing himself.

Marcus turned on the torch and raised it up, shining it back over his shoulder and into Elfleda’s face. The beam hit her eyes and she grimaced as if irritated, but no more than that – she didn’t so much as flinch from the pain. And then she braced her arms where they held Marcus and he screamed for a moment until a terrible cracking noise silenced him.

It all happened so quickly, Will hardly knew what had happened, but it was soon clear enough. Elfleda threw Marcus’s body at Will’s feet where it lay broken and crumpled. Will needed no superior senses to know that Marcus was dead.

The queen was furious now as she said, “You have been alone too long, it seems! Your destiny is great, My Lord, but not so great that you may disregard the
weight of the history upon your shoulders.” She looked across the room to where Eloise lay, and said, “Now, where were we – offerings, I think.” She raised her hand slowly, ready to repeat the same act of magnetism she’d already performed.

Will didn’t need to look at Eloise to know she was still alive, albeit unconscious. Nor did he need to look at Marcus, but he glanced down and saw his loyal eyes staring blankly, that ghost of a scar, and he felt hatred welling up inside him. This should not have ended like this. Marcus had been meant for greater things, had seemed part of this just as Eloise had, and yet now he was dead.

“Elfleda! You will hear me first!”

He stepped over Marcus’s body and walked slowly towards the queen. She lowered her hand again, leaving Eloise where she was, and looked at Will. For a moment, for all her powers, it seemed as if she was mesmerised by him, puzzled, hurt and confused.

“My Queen,
here
is my offering.”

She smiled, the same sweetly sinister smile, and it stayed on her lips as he drove his sabre with such force into her heart that only the hilt stopped his fist passing into her chest. She looked down then, not so much with surprise, but with the appearance of someone finally understanding a mystery that had long troubled her. She
crumpled slowly to her knees, then fell back on to her haunches.

“My Lord,” she said, but the words fell away in her mouth, as if the strength to speak had vanished too.

Will looked into her eyes and said quietly, “Why can you people not just help me? Why do you keep forcing me to do this by trying to take from me the one thing I will not relinquish?”

She stared back, silent.

“He’s here,” said a voice behind her.

Will crossed the room to Eloise and held her, helped her to sit up. She had been knocked unconscious, but was coming around now and she mumbled groggily and held the side of her chest.

“Eloise.”

“I’m OK,” she said hazily. “I hurt my head, and my ribs, I think. What about …”

“Marcus is dead.”

Her eyes focused and she saw the body crumpled on the floor and tried involuntarily to push herself away from it, her legs pushing her back against the broken shelves, horrified that this could have happened in so short a space of time.

“No, he … but he …”

Will put his fingers on her lips, calming her, then said, “Stay here for now. There’s something I must do.”

He walked back and picked up the sabre that Marcus had briefly handled with such promise. Elfleda’s eyes followed him and she looked up weakly as he stood in front of her. She could see the sword in his hand and nodded a little, understanding.

She spoke, her words barely more than a whisper, “How will you complete your journey if you continue to kill your guides?”

Will ignored her, positioning himself, focusing his hatred into the sabre in front of him. He looked at her and smiled, and for the last time she smiled back and said, “See, My Lord, this is how you become a king.”

He swung and the vampire in the cage screamed. The blue light exploded around the room and the sabre that had been in Elfleda’s chest fell to the floor. When Will was able to open his eyes, there was nothing left of her. A woman who had wielded such powers, and yet nothing whatsoever remained.

He looked across the room where Eloise had managed to get to her feet. She walked forward, carefully, testing herself out. Will went to meet her and held her, needing comfort as much as giving it because he had failed this time, he was certain of it, and Marcus had lost his life needlessly in the process.

When Eloise finally pulled away from him, tears streamed down her cheeks. He wiped them away and
they both turned to look at Marcus’s body. One leg was bent awkwardly underneath him, and though it meant little, Will couldn’t help but go over and straighten it, giving him at least the appearance of someone at peace.

Will looked at his face again and said, “I meant to ask him and never did, how he got that scar.”

“He …” Eloise started, but choked on the words and took a deep breath before saying, “He was born with it. He told me the other day. I mean yesterday. He told me yesterday. He was born with it.”

Will nodded and knelt down and closed Marcus’s eyes.

Eloise came up behind him. “What do we now, Will?”

Will stood and gestured at the vampire who was sitting meekly in his cage, rocking back and forth. “We talk to him.”

A voice came suddenly from the fourth cage, saying, “Oh, he won’t be able to tell you anything.”

They turned, Will’s grip tightening on the sabre, as a well-dressed, grey-haired man stepped from the previously empty enclosure and into the room.