Vampiris Sancti: The Elf (47 page)

“Me,” queried
Zyre, “what you know of me? Where were you when Raiders attacked,
when the air is thick with the dust of death? You that hides in
crevices like a Goblin!”

She watched the
sting of the insult with satisfaction when the Mage couldn’t hide
the momentary flash in her eyes, but she quickly regained her
composure.

“There is a
Martyc with Varkja and Druqe. Who has both an Elf and Pixie stand
by him, so what need is there for a Mage?”

Zyre feigned
indifference. “Which Martyc—this world is sour with them.”

The sorcerer
smiled. “The only one who matters.”

The Elf
scowled, “Pffft—Empire business—I don’t do politics. Maybe I be
like you and watch others die!”

“That time is
gone because you stayed and now you watch over them all—even the
one who will claim you. You can’t hide from what is true—what is
your truth.”

Tendrils of
annoyance spiked the Elf because she couldn’t dispute the Mage as
she knew the sorcerer had been stalking her for days. Annoyed and
barely restrained she moved forward while her fingers sparked with
dangerous intent.

“You be pretty
rude for such a wise one and if you be a true sorcerer then you’d
know the Seal doesn’t protect you—only demons.”

The girl
laughed at the threat. “Elfzyre,” she chided as if speaking to
child, “don’t you think we would protect ourselves first? This is
enough of pretend, the bandit Taryst Janeb tampers with the peace
and she harms the new child of the Reveal—the Vampire. The human
realm tis of importance for it balances all else within the Reveal
and will bring peace and prosperity. Those who trade here give
thought to wishes of Empire. Never before has trade brought peace
to so many, so the destruction of the Veil cannot be allowed. It is
time for you to make your life and cast your lot with the
Martyc.”

Zyre frowned.
“The Elders send you? Is that it Mage, are you now a low
messenger?”

The mention of
aligning herself with Vryn made her eyes turn back to emerald
because she was finding it harder to control how the thought of him
made her feel. The Elf was inundated with problems and adding a
Mage made the human world becoming a blinkity bucket of bother.
Though humans might hate the idea of a demonic universe not only
did it exist, but also had its greedy eyes upon the bounty of such
an interesting world. The Mage was unimpressed by her insult and
gave the Elf an exasperated look.

“Worlds are at
risk and you play games like a little girl?”

However, she
wasn’t about to be pushed into any direction. “I do whatever and no
Mage bothers me with opinions.”

The green
within the blue eyes of the Mage glowed. “Is up to you, but
remember that they all need your help for like it or not you are
the link that binds.”

Zyre glared at
the girl. “Ha! Bind what together, the Ghuvk ignore the rogue
Aunsin, the Martyc respect only profit, and humans are daft as
Gnomes!”

“There is no
time because the next attack is tomorrow night at the Centre and
you need to tell the Martyc.”

“How you find
this out?” Zyre asked, her eyes merging through a kaleidoscope of
colours.

“A Raider drunk
on haluh tells everything he knows to anyone who will listen,” she
replied.

“Then tell the
Ghuvk, for tis one of theirs who disturbs the peace! He conspires
with the Nefarious and keeps Raiders safe.”

“The reason the
Ghuvk do nothing is because they fear retaliation from the House
concerned. Balsescu is the oldest house with many Aunsin and if the
Ghuvk offend them, there is a chance of them returning to seize
control of the Council. It is well known that Tadeus Balsescu has
little patience with humans and he would see a war as no more than
a diversion.”

“The Vampires
are not protected from me,” argued a petulant Zyre. “I have no fear
of Aunsin.”

“A few perhaps
you can, but an entire House of them? You are a young Elf and you
still test your strength. There is much for you to learn about the
Reveal. It is best to stop the rot at the leaves before it reaches
the root—help the Martyc to keep peace,” said the Mage.

“What you care
of Vampires—they be sterile mutants scorned everywhere! Let demons
come and join the Empire in protecting the world.”

“Vampires are
children of the Reveal, as magical, as demon, as human, and they
are part of the future. They are the pin that balance rests
on.”

The sorcerer
ended their conversation by dropping down into the street below
causing the Elf to move to look over the side of the building, even
though she was not expecting to find the street coloured with Mage
interiors. She moved back to eye the fortress and saw the Varkja
patrol had not noticed the two magic conversationalists. There were
several Poqir trying to blend into the dull concrete of the walls
and the Gargoyles remained firmly in place. Her lips pursed in
exasperation because as usual it was going to be up to her to fix
everything. Vryn seemed annoyingly inept at saving the world,
humans were clueless, and Vampires had a problem dealing with
everyone. Decisions based less upon whim and more upon necessity
annoyed her, especially since it meant cleaning up the mess of
demons.

After examining
the fortress and not detecting any sign of the Martyc or his
annoying assistant she decided her best entry was a straightforward
one. Zyre dissolved directly into the empty office of Vryn Dhaigre.
She wandered out into the outer office of Afir to discover a
spotless desk bare of paperwork, but no assistant. She was alone
only a moment for she felt the energy of the approaching force long
before it thrust the large doors of the area open. A unit of silver
burst into the room before stopping to glare at her and she gave
the Varkja a grin, but her eyes were the teal of business.

“Hey, hey,” she
greeted them calmly as she watched the entire group shift in unison
as their thoughts aligned.

The one who
seemed to be their leader stepped forward and Zyre could see how
young he was by his ineffectual attempt to hide the desire that
permeated the air between them. His silver eyes gleamed with
admiration and she allowed him the full benefit of her ruby lips as
she smiled at his lack of control. His confidence grew at her
friendly greeting and he moved closer to the elusive magical
being.

“Lord Dhaigre
left this for you.” He extended his arm showing her a small mobile
phone.

Zyre wrinkled
her nose since she knew of talkies, but didn’t approve of anything
that could be used to keep track of her.

“I don’t think
so,” she ignored his outstretched arm.

The impassive
countenance of the young Varkja had not yet reached the solid
silver wall of detachment of the head of security and the bare
scrape of emotion flitted across his face. He lowered his arm to
give the Elf a puzzled look before attempting to explain the
situation.

“It’s a talky,”
he said in a voice trying to sound friendly. “And it will allow you
to speak to the prince whenever you want.”

Zyre endured
the patronising tone because she was weighing the mischief quotient
of the encounter before she would have to escape. The next actions
of the Varkja forced her into a response she didn’t wish to make.
He showed her the keypad and pressed the first button causing a
disembodied voice to come out of it. Even at the distance she knew
it was Vryn.

The Varkja put
his ear to the phone and replied, “My Lord, the Elf—she is
present.”

The voice
responded and once again the young Varkja extended his arm leaving
Zyre two options, one was a direct line to the person she needed to
see, the other was to fumble about the world alone. Despite the
myriad of blinkity bother that accompanied a Martyc there was one
advantage—they could always make a plan—the one thing she presently
found difficult to acquire. Zyre grabbed the phone and dissolved
back to the roof across the street because Vryn wasn’t going to
have it all his own way.

She put the
phone to her ear and heard Vryn calling out, “Zyre? Are you
there?”

She couldn’t
help snapping, “Of course I am you silly dresniq, stop howling at
me.”

“We need to
speak,” his concerned voice was tinged with relief.

Zyre wasn’t
going to let him drag her into his world so easily. “So how you
know I be here?”

The Martyc
grumbled. “Because every time I leave it’s inevitable you’ll turn
up!”

Zyre laughed as
the demon snorted and she relaxed as the box removed their
conversation into the impersonal. Take away the atmosphere—the
burning coals of his eyes and what was left between them was the
safety of words over the danger of actions.

“What do you
want to speak?”

“There’s going
to be another attack—.”

“Blah, blah,
blah—I know this,” she interrupted and grinned as he cursed.

“How did you
find out?” he demanded.

“Dunno—maybe a
Mage—can’t remember,” she lied.

The fumble of
the receiver granted her almost as much fun as what seeing his face
cloud with emotion would have been. The talky did have the
advantage of annoying him from a distance, so maybe it was not such
a bad device after all.

“Stay at the
fortress as you will be safe there.”

The mention of
her requiring safety put her back up for she might not be a prince
of the Empire, but she had more natural resources at her disposal
than a score of Varkja units. She laughed again and had the
pleasure of his growl vibrating in her ear.

“I might go
look at the Centre.”

“NO YOU DON”T!”
his shout made her ears ring and she debated tossing the box over
the side of the roof.

“I do,” she
responded haughtily, “what I like.”

“Zyre
please!”

This time he
was not demanding, but in earnest, “We can’t let anyone know that
we know, so keep away from the Centre. Come to Ravulisa and we can
discuss a plan.”

Vryn had said
please—once again he offered the rare courtesy and it sent an
unfamiliar shaft of warmth throughout her. She considered his
request deciding that maybe he had a plan and then Ravulisa was a
place of excellent pastries. The sky was growing light and she
wanted to dissolve without too much notice, so she agreed without
much fuss.

“Ravulisa,
don’t be late,” she snapped the talky shut and tossed it over the
side of the building because useful or not she wasn’t about to be
made reachable by anyone.

Zyre
contemplated the impending dawn as she considered the request of
the Martyc. It was all good and fine for him to use words he never
used with others, but he had forgotten something important. She was
an Elf and one thing Elves did magnificently—better than anyone
else did—was to hide in plain sight, so she rummaged in her pocket
for the bear of honey. It took but a few dissolves as the fortress
was not far from the middle of town and she arrived at the Centre
without fuss. She sat several buildings over from it, but was
uninterested in the stragglers departing before the unforgiving
light of the day exposed their heritage. The Verkja moved indoors
while the remaining lights turned off and the large doors were
bolted against the prying daylight eyes of the human world.

Zyre didn’t
care about the staff or clientele of the Centre as she felt out the
area, and once satisfied that she was alone moved easily across all
the visible roofs. She sat on each one carefully while observing
every angle and if asked the Elf wouldn’t have been able to
describe what she was doing. Magical beings had the unique talent
of finding each other upon any world for this was the combination
of sensing the presence of one of their own and the ability to
provide a mental map cross-referencing interconnected areas. Zyre
proceeded to map out the roofline surrounding the Centre, and once
finished drank the rest of the honey while she considered the
information she had acquired. At least now they could work out
every approach of the demons and if they were going to flood the
roofs with their attack then she knew every weak point. It never
occurred to her that the Varkja and Martyc would have this same
knowledge as in her mind she was busy cleaning up their mess.

She shimmered
slowly across the city until she came to the empty street of
Ravulisa and standing at the end of the road she was overwhelmed by
the amount of energy pervading the atmosphere. Every powerful demon
with interests on world had gathered and their combined essence was
like a jolt of lightning tearing the air apart. She dissolved onto
the roof and sat among the Gargoyles wondering if it was fear or
fortitude that had brought everyone scuttling out of the woodwork.
Were they here to protect their interests or watch the downfall of
a Xatn—a rare but not unheard of event? Even the Empire was subject
to the wiles of renegades now and then, despite holding a
consistent history of unshifting power. The pink eyes Gargoyles
stared at her and she pondered if the amazing blast of energy
barely held within the walls below was the reason for their
semi-awakened state. Or had the owners, whoever they might be,
alerted their guards to the possibility of attack? Either way, Zyre
wasn’t interested in pursuing the Gargoyle psyche. She sat calmly
upon the roof as she enjoyed the energy of the morning sun while it
sent a burst of gold fire into her body. It was not the same as
life energy of plants as this was more a salve of the spirit and
for an Elf on the go it was the only reflective moment she was
going to have for the next while.

The idea
weighing in the back of her mind was wrong; she knew it was wrong,
the emotions cascading throughout her were not interested in logic
because they wanted revenge. It would hold for now, but soon she
was going to address something and it was going to get ugly. Zyre
took a breath and one last look at the beautiful colours of a
breaking sky because this was the point of no return. Like a true
magical being she threw caution aside as she jumped into the street
below and banged on the solid doors of the most exclusive club of
every universe.