Chapter 107: 107
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In an instant, the whole room falls into a shocked silence. The air quivers with tension as eyes dart between us, fangs flashing in horror, and some with a gleaming sadistic joy, bent on seeing the outcome of the events and living to tell the tale.
I flex my fingers pertinently.
"You know," I say, gritting my teeth together with an unbridled rage, my voice rising above the steady silence of the crowd and distance wavering notes of an orchestra who plays unaware of the turmoil that ensues. My body thrums with an all consuming power, the shadows that coil out from my fingertips quickly dismissing the unnatural calmness that had taken hold of me and replacing it with solid, boiling rage.
To think that Azrael would even attempt to use his powers on me... To think that he thought he would have a chance. The thought alone is almost laughable.
Azrael's eyes widen slightly, fingers fanning over the glassy shard of a dagger that is wedged into his shoulder, as if that alone may help to alleviate some of the agonies that burn through him. I snicker. Hopeless.
"If you would stop making a spectacle of yourself then I wouldn't have to keep punishing you in the eyes of the public- spare you the loss of dignity. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Azrael stops struggling momentarily, forcing his eyes to meet mine, an unvoiced word playing on the swell of his lips. But his face falls- he's lost his nerve. How typical. Upon deciding that quite frankly I have had my fair share of his games, I lean in closer, lowering my voice to a menacing whisper quite enough that only Azrael can hear, pressing my lips up against his cheek as I say:
"Your pitiful mind powers won't work on me, brother, soul or not. Unfortunately for you, it only works on susceptible minds and mine is very, very much not. You chose the wrong time to get on my bad side and mess with my Queen, you snaking bitch, so here is what I am going to do,"
A shard of dark, shadowy glass materialises between my fingers, sharp and pointed like a steak, but my hands do not tremble as I hold it up to hover against the exposed skin over his heart, a glamour singing in my voice.
Someone catches my actions in the ground, and a swell of begging arises up to the eaves of the palace. A voice wails, another yells. Some jeer, applaud, seeing my actions quite befitting after centuries of my brother stealing off with their spouses. Whatever their reasons for noise, I do not care.
"You are going to leave this stake here as a reminder of what you did. You aren't going to touch it, you aren't even going to look at it," I growl, letting the point skin into his flesh, the motion of which causes the white haired vampire to wince a little as the blacken stake slides deeper and deeper into his skin. Another gasp from the crowd.
"Touch Serena again," I continue with a low hiss, exerting a little more force as I slide the pointed shard in deeper, blood beginning to pool from the edges of the gaping hole, causing Azrael to choke a little, blood frothing at his mouth. "Touch her and I swear the next hole that will be carved into your chest will be done with silver. And if you so much as think about hurting her to threaten me…" I press in a little further, and something cracks under the force of it all, sending a shudder rippling through his lean body. Azrael bends over double, spewing blood over the clean marble floor, eliciting a permanent red stain on its shiny expanse. I step round it, uncaring.
"Then you are going to push this stake until it reaches your heart."
With a final flourish, I shove him off me, sending him stumbling back into a crowd of awaiting girls, whose sighs and frets permeate the air with their pitifully shallow sorrows. I make certain he sees the daggers I shoot at him across the room, even among the swarms of sighing women, the look alone would be hard to miss. Azrael spits another globule of blood onto the ground, but I don't care to watch much more. Nor do I care for the eyes that trace me as I walk, eyes of curious and terrified Faey folk whose evening dancing and riotous laughter I have sliced open with the lusty stains of hate and blood, and the crimson swirls of vampire eyes who watch the path I forge through the crowds with great interest, heads bowed in a state of fear and perpetual respect.
"Unfortunately," I announce to the room, deepening my voice to a cold and unsympathetic hum- I have just about enough of everyone's bullshit today to even fake the façade of niceties. I have got a Queen to save, and I will be damned if anyone is going to try and stop me. "I have had to put up a barrier around the palace for reasons I believe have made themselves quite obvious. Anyone who tries to go through it without my expressed permission to defile my wishes will find themselves suddenly transported to an empty void. Fear not, that is my personal dungeon, I will let you out. Eventually."
Not a muscle moves around the room. With a wave of my hand, I dismiss the silence.
"As for those of you who wish to behave, you shall be duly rewarded. Now return to your meals, I have had quite my fill of drama on this particular night."
A cautious chatter resumes around the room, bolstered by the heavy twang of stringed instruments and the melodious symphony of a singular harp, quelling the room back to an atmosphere that is almost tranquil- if a palace of vampires could ever be called such a thing. Even as a vampire myself, it doesn't take much to realise that living in such a riotous place of blood and fangs and good old fashioned coldblooded murder wouldn't come without the consequential discarding of lasting peace.
Without looking down, I lower my voice.
"Come now, little fox. I believe you and I have a Queen to save."
***
For once in my life, the forest is silent. Not a single heart can be heard beating in the thickets or dense bushes, or from the brambles whose claw like talons stretch out into the inky abyss of a moonless night. And although a little white fox plods urgently beside me, his feet falling upon the earth as his coat glistens under the pale luminescence of the stars, I do not hear him, just as I do not hear the ominous calls of the tawny owl high up in the outstretched arms of an oak, or the chitter of the pixies who cower as we pass them, coating them with a trail of mist and shadows. I can hear nothing, nothing.
Except for her.
'Soren,' a voice calls out to me, soft and so very quiet, as if it were barely there at all. 'Soren where are you?' The voice rises a little, swelling up in my mind with a desperate plea, as though lost, yet although my heart longs to reach out to it, to call out into the darkness, I know it would be no use. She would never hear me.
Fear quivers in her voice as she calls out again and again, begging to be let out of the darkness and to escape back into the light. Hearing her so broken is like a stake to my heart. I know it would be of no use to call out, to attempt to quell her anxieties with the subtle, impassioned murmur of my voice, she would never hear it.
But something inside me, a feeling I cannot quite place, perhaps one of sympathy, or the desire to offer comfort to the lonesome voice that echoes through my mind- a voice that is attached by little more than the fragile strands of a mating link. So I call out anyway, soothing her anxieties with a gentle murmuring.
"Calm now, Serena. You will be okay, I promise."
Maybe it is rash of me to be making promises that I cannot rightly keep, but hope is waning thin, and any attempted offer as consolation is more than a welcome one. I cannot let her die. I must not.
Pulling the hood of my cloak low over my head, I forge on ahead.
Finding someone who doesn't want to be found is never an easy task, finding someone who has had half a millennia in the practise of exactly that, even more so. But silent may the forest be, there is one secluded patch of land tucked deep within the heart of the Great Forest, lit only by the dotted array of blue lanterns that hang like creepers form the worn branches of the trees that sway by the rugged influence of the wind, is home to one rowdy tavern in particular. It is a tavern of secrets, often said to have its fair passing of criminals and outcasts through its shanty doors, a place that- if you paid the right price- could reasonably allow for a person could disappear as easily as a breath on the wind: a place where the most notorious of criminals could reside without so much as a bat of an eye.
Yes, this would be the perfect place to find him.
"Stick close to me," I whisper from the side of my mouth to the little fox who has fallen behind my trail, perhaps afraid of the consequences of tracking to far ahead and suddenly finding themselves lost in the dark nebular of seclusion that surrounds us. To a vampire, this darkness might as well be called home, but to anyone else, it is little more than a death trap. I suppose it is no wonder the fox is afraid. Languorously, I sigh.
"All manner of people come to this tavern, some that you would certainly be better off not knowing. Stick close so that I might ensure your safety," I instruct as we tear out from the undergrowth and onto the dirt run path, gliding past the decrepit wooden sign that reads:
The Siren's Tavern up ahead.
Please report us if you find any errors so we can fix it asap!
In an instant, the whole room falls into a shocked silence. The air quivers with tension as eyes dart between us, fangs flashing in horror, and some with a gleaming sadistic joy, bent on seeing the outcome of the events and living to tell the tale.
I flex my fingers pertinently.
"You know," I say, gritting my teeth together with an unbridled rage, my voice rising above the steady silence of the crowd and distance wavering notes of an orchestra who plays unaware of the turmoil that ensues. My body thrums with an all consuming power, the shadows that coil out from my fingertips quickly dismissing the unnatural calmness that had taken hold of me and replacing it with solid, boiling rage.
To think that Azrael would even attempt to use his powers on me... To think that he thought he would have a chance. The thought alone is almost laughable.
Azrael's eyes widen slightly, fingers fanning over the glassy shard of a dagger that is wedged into his shoulder, as if that alone may help to alleviate some of the agonies that burn through him. I snicker. Hopeless.
"If you would stop making a spectacle of yourself then I wouldn't have to keep punishing you in the eyes of the public- spare you the loss of dignity. Doesn't that sound nice?"
Azrael stops struggling momentarily, forcing his eyes to meet mine, an unvoiced word playing on the swell of his lips. But his face falls- he's lost his nerve. How typical. Upon deciding that quite frankly I have had my fair share of his games, I lean in closer, lowering my voice to a menacing whisper quite enough that only Azrael can hear, pressing my lips up against his cheek as I say:
"Your pitiful mind powers won't work on me, brother, soul or not. Unfortunately for you, it only works on susceptible minds and mine is very, very much not. You chose the wrong time to get on my bad side and mess with my Queen, you snaking bitch, so here is what I am going to do,"
A shard of dark, shadowy glass materialises between my fingers, sharp and pointed like a steak, but my hands do not tremble as I hold it up to hover against the exposed skin over his heart, a glamour singing in my voice.
Someone catches my actions in the ground, and a swell of begging arises up to the eaves of the palace. A voice wails, another yells. Some jeer, applaud, seeing my actions quite befitting after centuries of my brother stealing off with their spouses. Whatever their reasons for noise, I do not care.
"You are going to leave this stake here as a reminder of what you did. You aren't going to touch it, you aren't even going to look at it," I growl, letting the point skin into his flesh, the motion of which causes the white haired vampire to wince a little as the blacken stake slides deeper and deeper into his skin. Another gasp from the crowd.
"Touch Serena again," I continue with a low hiss, exerting a little more force as I slide the pointed shard in deeper, blood beginning to pool from the edges of the gaping hole, causing Azrael to choke a little, blood frothing at his mouth. "Touch her and I swear the next hole that will be carved into your chest will be done with silver. And if you so much as think about hurting her to threaten me…" I press in a little further, and something cracks under the force of it all, sending a shudder rippling through his lean body. Azrael bends over double, spewing blood over the clean marble floor, eliciting a permanent red stain on its shiny expanse. I step round it, uncaring.
"Then you are going to push this stake until it reaches your heart."
With a final flourish, I shove him off me, sending him stumbling back into a crowd of awaiting girls, whose sighs and frets permeate the air with their pitifully shallow sorrows. I make certain he sees the daggers I shoot at him across the room, even among the swarms of sighing women, the look alone would be hard to miss. Azrael spits another globule of blood onto the ground, but I don't care to watch much more. Nor do I care for the eyes that trace me as I walk, eyes of curious and terrified Faey folk whose evening dancing and riotous laughter I have sliced open with the lusty stains of hate and blood, and the crimson swirls of vampire eyes who watch the path I forge through the crowds with great interest, heads bowed in a state of fear and perpetual respect.
"Unfortunately," I announce to the room, deepening my voice to a cold and unsympathetic hum- I have just about enough of everyone's bullshit today to even fake the façade of niceties. I have got a Queen to save, and I will be damned if anyone is going to try and stop me. "I have had to put up a barrier around the palace for reasons I believe have made themselves quite obvious. Anyone who tries to go through it without my expressed permission to defile my wishes will find themselves suddenly transported to an empty void. Fear not, that is my personal dungeon, I will let you out. Eventually."
Not a muscle moves around the room. With a wave of my hand, I dismiss the silence.
"As for those of you who wish to behave, you shall be duly rewarded. Now return to your meals, I have had quite my fill of drama on this particular night."
A cautious chatter resumes around the room, bolstered by the heavy twang of stringed instruments and the melodious symphony of a singular harp, quelling the room back to an atmosphere that is almost tranquil- if a palace of vampires could ever be called such a thing. Even as a vampire myself, it doesn't take much to realise that living in such a riotous place of blood and fangs and good old fashioned coldblooded murder wouldn't come without the consequential discarding of lasting peace.
Without looking down, I lower my voice.
"Come now, little fox. I believe you and I have a Queen to save."
***
For once in my life, the forest is silent. Not a single heart can be heard beating in the thickets or dense bushes, or from the brambles whose claw like talons stretch out into the inky abyss of a moonless night. And although a little white fox plods urgently beside me, his feet falling upon the earth as his coat glistens under the pale luminescence of the stars, I do not hear him, just as I do not hear the ominous calls of the tawny owl high up in the outstretched arms of an oak, or the chitter of the pixies who cower as we pass them, coating them with a trail of mist and shadows. I can hear nothing, nothing.
Except for her.
'Soren,' a voice calls out to me, soft and so very quiet, as if it were barely there at all. 'Soren where are you?' The voice rises a little, swelling up in my mind with a desperate plea, as though lost, yet although my heart longs to reach out to it, to call out into the darkness, I know it would be no use. She would never hear me.
Fear quivers in her voice as she calls out again and again, begging to be let out of the darkness and to escape back into the light. Hearing her so broken is like a stake to my heart. I know it would be of no use to call out, to attempt to quell her anxieties with the subtle, impassioned murmur of my voice, she would never hear it.
But something inside me, a feeling I cannot quite place, perhaps one of sympathy, or the desire to offer comfort to the lonesome voice that echoes through my mind- a voice that is attached by little more than the fragile strands of a mating link. So I call out anyway, soothing her anxieties with a gentle murmuring.
"Calm now, Serena. You will be okay, I promise."
Maybe it is rash of me to be making promises that I cannot rightly keep, but hope is waning thin, and any attempted offer as consolation is more than a welcome one. I cannot let her die. I must not.
Pulling the hood of my cloak low over my head, I forge on ahead.
Finding someone who doesn't want to be found is never an easy task, finding someone who has had half a millennia in the practise of exactly that, even more so. But silent may the forest be, there is one secluded patch of land tucked deep within the heart of the Great Forest, lit only by the dotted array of blue lanterns that hang like creepers form the worn branches of the trees that sway by the rugged influence of the wind, is home to one rowdy tavern in particular. It is a tavern of secrets, often said to have its fair passing of criminals and outcasts through its shanty doors, a place that- if you paid the right price- could reasonably allow for a person could disappear as easily as a breath on the wind: a place where the most notorious of criminals could reside without so much as a bat of an eye.
Yes, this would be the perfect place to find him.
"Stick close to me," I whisper from the side of my mouth to the little fox who has fallen behind my trail, perhaps afraid of the consequences of tracking to far ahead and suddenly finding themselves lost in the dark nebular of seclusion that surrounds us. To a vampire, this darkness might as well be called home, but to anyone else, it is little more than a death trap. I suppose it is no wonder the fox is afraid. Languorously, I sigh.
"All manner of people come to this tavern, some that you would certainly be better off not knowing. Stick close so that I might ensure your safety," I instruct as we tear out from the undergrowth and onto the dirt run path, gliding past the decrepit wooden sign that reads:
The Siren's Tavern up ahead.
In an instant, the whole room falls into a shocked silence. The air quivers with tension as eyes dart between us, fangs flashing in horror, and some with a gleaming sadistic joy, bent on seeing the outcome of the events and living to tell the tale.I flex my fingers pertinently."You know," I say, gritting my teeth together with an unbridled rage, my voice rising above the steady silence of the crowd and distance wavering notes of an orchestra who plays unaware of the turmoil that ensues. My body thrums with an all consuming power, the shadows that coil out from my fingertips quickly dismissing the unnatural calmness that had taken hold of me and replacing it with solid, boiling rage.To think that Azrael would even attempt to use his powers on me... To think that he thought he would have a chance. The thought alone is almost laughable.Azrael's eyes widen slightly, fingers fanning over the glassy shard of a dagger that is wedged into his shoulder, as if that alone may help to alleviate some of the agonies that burn through him. I snicker. Hopeless. "If you would stop making a spectacle of yourself then I wouldn't have to keep punishing you in the eyes of the public- spare you the loss of dignity. Doesn't that sound nice?"Azrael stops struggling momentarily, forcing his eyes to meet mine, an unvoiced word playing on the swell of his lips. But his face falls- he's lost his nerve. How typical. Upon deciding that quite frankly I have had my fair share of his games, I lean in closer, lowering my voice to a menacing whisper quite enough that only Azrael can hear, pressing my lips up against his cheek as I say:"Your pitiful mind powers won't work on me, brother, soul or not. Unfortunately for you, it only works on susceptible minds and mine is very, very much not. You chose the wrong time to get on my bad side and mess with my Queen, you snaking bitch, so here is what I am going to do,"A shard of dark, shadowy glass materialises between my fingers, sharp and pointed like a steak, but my hands do not tremble as I hold it up to hover against the exposed skin over his heart, a glamour singing in my voice.Someone catches my actions in the ground, and a swell of begging arises up to the eaves of the palace. A voice wails, another yells. Some jeer, applaud, seeing my actions quite befitting after centuries of my brother stealing off with their spouses. Whatever their reasons for noise, I do not care. "You are going to leave this stake here as a reminder of what you did. You aren't going to touch it, you aren't even going to look at it," I growl, letting the point skin into his flesh, the motion of which causes the white haired vampire to wince a little as the blacken stake slides deeper and deeper into his skin. Another gasp from the crowd."Touch Serena again," I continue with a low hiss, exerting a little more force as I slide the pointed shard in deeper, blood beginning to pool from the edges of the gaping hole, causing Azrael to choke a little, blood frothing at his mouth. "Touch her and I swear the next hole that will be carved into your chest will be done with silver. And if you so much as think about hurting her to threaten me" I press in a little further, and something cracks under the force of it all, sending a shudder rippling through his lean body. Azrael bends over double, spewing blood over the clean marble floor, eliciting a permanent red stain on its shiny expanse. I step round it, uncaring."Then you are going to push this stake until it reaches your heart."With a final flourish, I shove him off me, sending him stumbling back into a crowd of awaiting girls, whose sighs and frets permeate the air with their pitifully shallow sorrows. I make certain he sees the daggers I shoot at him across the room, even among the swarms of sighing women, the look alone would be hard to miss. Azrael spits another globule of blood onto the ground, but I don't care to watch much more. Nor do I care for the eyes that trace me as I walk, eyes of curious and terrified Faey folk whose evening dancing and riotous laughter I have sliced open with the lusty stains of hate and blood, and the crimson swirls of vampire eyes who watch the path I forge through the crowds with great interest, heads bowed in a state of fear and perpetual respect. "Unfortunately," I announce to the room, deepening my voice to a cold and unsympathetic hum- I have just about enough of everyone's bullshit today to even fake the faade of niceties. I have got a Queen to save, and I will be damned if anyone is going to try and stop me. "I have had to put up a barrier around the palace for reasons I believe have made themselves quite obvious. Anyone who tries to go through it without my expressed permission to defile my wishes will find themselves suddenly transported to an empty void. Fear not, that is my personal dungeon, I will let you out. Eventually."Not a muscle moves around the room. With a wave of my hand, I dismiss the silence."As for those of you who wish to behave, you shall be duly rewarded. Now return to your meals, I have had quite my fill of drama on this particular night."A cautious chatter resumes around the room, bolstered by the heavy twang of stringed instruments and the melodious symphony of a singular harp, quelling the room back to an atmosphere that is almost tranquil- if a palace of vampires could ever be called such a thing. Even as a vampire myself, it doesn't take much to realise that living in such a riotous place of blood and fangs and good old fashioned coldblooded murder wouldn't come without the consequential discarding of lasting peace. Without looking down, I lower my voice."Come now, little fox. I believe you and I have a Queen to save."***For once in my life, the forest is silent. Not a single heart can be heard beating in the thickets or dense bushes, or from the brambles whose claw like talons stretch out into the inky abyss of a moonless night. And although a little white fox plods urgently beside me, his feet falling upon the earth as his coat glistens under the pale luminescence of the stars, I do not hear him, just as I do not hear the ominous calls of the tawny owl high up in the outstretched arms of an oak, or the chitter of the pixies who cower as we pass them, coating them with a trail of mist and shadows. I can hear nothing, nothing.Except for her.'Soren,' a voice calls out to me, soft and so very quiet, as if it were barely there at all. 'Soren where are you?' The voice rises a little, swelling up in my mind with a desperate plea, as though lost, yet although my heart longs to reach out to it, to call out into the darkness, I know it would be no use. She would never hear me.Fear quivers in her voice as she calls out again and again, begging to be let out of the darkness and to escape back into the light. Hearing her so broken is like a stake to my heart. I know it would be of no use to call out, to attempt to quell her anxieties with the subtle, impassioned murmur of my voice, she would never hear it.But something inside me, a feeling I cannot quite place, perhaps one of sympathy, or the desire to offer comfort to the lonesome voice that echoes through my mind- a voice that is attached by little more than the fragile strands of a mating link. So I call out anyway, soothing her anxieties with a gentle murmuring."Calm now, Serena. You will be okay, I promise."Maybe it is rash of me to be making promises that I cannot rightly keep, but hope is waning thin, and any attempted offer as consolation is more than a welcome one. I cannot let her die. I must not.Pulling the hood of my cloak low over my head, I forge on ahead.Finding someone who doesn't want to be found is never an easy task, finding someone who has had half a millennia in the practise of exactly that, even more so. But silent may the forest be, there is one secluded patch of land tucked deep within the heart of the Great Forest, lit only by the dotted array of blue lanterns that hang like creepers form the worn branches of the trees that sway by the rugged influence of the wind, is home to one rowdy tavern in particular. It is a tavern of secrets, often said to have its fair passing of criminals and outcasts through its shanty doors, a place that- if you paid the right price- could reasonably allow for a person could disappear as easily as a breath on the wind: a place where the most notorious of criminals could reside without so much as a bat of an eye.Yes, this would be the perfect place to find him."Stick close to me," I whisper from the side of my mouth to the little fox who has fallen behind my trail, perhaps afraid of the consequences of tracking to far ahead and suddenly finding themselves lost in the dark nebular of seclusion that surrounds us. To a vampire, this darkness might as well be called home, but to anyone else, it is little more than a death trap. I suppose it is no wonder the fox is afraid. Languorously, I sigh."All manner of people come to this tavern, some that you would certainly be better off not knowing. Stick close so that I might ensure your safety," I instruct as we tear out from the undergrowth and onto the dirt run path, gliding past the decrepit wooden sign that reads:The Siren's Tavern up ahead.
