Moonlight War- Act II (The Realmers Book 3) Page 5

  “That’s it,” Elijah whooped. “That has to be the brush we need to get out of here. Instead of leaving the front door key under a rock, Battlebeard leaves the brush in a flowerpot.”

  “So,” Jed said, staring at the brush, it appeared completely unremarkable. “I can literally draw anything with this?”

  “Don’t you dare mess around with it.” Elijah warned. “It’s too dangerous. You don’t have a clue what you’re doing.”

  “But what if I draw a nice pink dress on top of your clothes?” Jed grinned.

  Before he could, Joelle plucked the brush out of his hand. She marched to the door and drew a circular door knob, which appeared instantly.

  “Right.” She tucked the brush into her belt. “Once we find our fellow Venators I’ll draw us out of here, too. Let’s go.”

  He and Elijah followed her through the door, leaving it open in case they needed to make a quick escape. Once inside the mansion they found themselves in a dark hallway, lined by statues of elves, orcs and goblins.

  “Do you think anyone’s here?” Jed said to Joelle, leaning against the nearest statue. Seconds later, he realised the statue he was leaning on was of a naked goblin, and his head was inches from the goblin’s crotch. He jerked his head away as Joelle stifled her giggles.

  Elijah whispered. “Jed’s right, what if Battlebeard has accomplices?”

  “We’ll just have to take them out,” Joelle replied. “But keep your weapons and your magic ready.”

  Beyond the darkened hallway, was a large and empty ballroom. Stranger still, only two plates had been laid on a table fit for thirty places. Both plates were barely eaten, and had been left to go off. The only other ornament on the table was a large vase which looked to be made of solid gold, the single flower in it drooped over the rim, long dead.

  Jed was overjoyed to see three golden goblets on the table, however. They looked half drunk, but Jed was still so thirsty he didn’t care. He had no idea what the drink was but downed it anyway. “Yes, valkyrie venom, so sweet.”

  “Where should we look first then?” Joelle asked. “Do you think we’ll find the Venators locked in a bedroom upstairs, or down in a basement? Whatever way we decide to check first, we shouldn’t split up.”

  “We should-” Jed cut off abruptly as the huge shape emerged from the hallway.

  “What’re you doing here?” The bellowing voice made Joelle jump and Elijah yelp. They whirled to see Battlebeard standing in the doorway, his face red with rage.

  “Get ‘im,” Joelle cried, shooting a bolt of energy magic right at Battlebeard’s face.

  The bolt struck true, but only staggered Godan. He grunted with the impact and then roared, ripping free his weapon, an enormous hammer.

  “C’mere, you bliaks!” Godan hurtled forward, swinging his hammer toward Elijah, who was the closest.

  Elijah leaped out of the way at the last second, and the hammer crashed through the wall instead, leaving a gaping hole.

  Jed attempted an encase spell on the Mandon, trying to freeze his giant body in place. He was nowhere near strong enough however, and Godan shrugged it off before charging like an enraged bull.

  His hammer came down yet again, this time in-between both Jed and Joelle as they jumped to the side. The hammer hit the table, splitting it in half with a thunderous crack.

  Jed reeled back and seized the golden vase by his feet without thinking. As Godan bent down to heave up his hammer, Jed swung the vase and slammed it into the Mandon’s skull.

  Incredibly, the vase blow seemed to affect Battlebeard even less than Joelle’s spell had done. He merely snarled and then flung out a hand. He seized Jed by the throat and lifted him high into the air. As he squeezed, Jed’s vision went black at the edges. It felt like his head was about to pop right off.

  He kicked out wildly in desperation, but it felt like his feet were hitting a stone wall. Maybe a second before Godan crushed Jed’s windpipe, Joelle and Elijah sliced Godan on either leg, right behind the knee. Godan cried out as his legs buckled and he dropped Jed. Jed fell from eight foot above the ground, so lightheaded from Godan’s choke that he slumped to the floor, his vision blurring.

  “It’s okay, Jed,” he heard Joelle’s voice somewhere above him. “Me and Elijah have both hit him with a paralysis spell. He isn’t going anywhere.”

  Jed tried to sit up, but his head felt too heavy. As he struggled, he felt a powerful blast of air magic surge through the room. From the corner of his eye, he saw Joelle thrown against the wall. Her head cracked against the stone and she fell beside him, unconscious.

  He heard Battlebeard address a second person. “Thank you, my lord, they took me by surprise.”

  “What are they doing here? Why did you bring me three? You’ve ruined everything, you useless oaf.”

  Jed was sure he recognised the newcomer’s voice from somewhere. He craned his neck to see, but he was losing consciousness fast.

  “I- I know this one.” He heard the new voice say. The stranger’s footsteps drew near.

  Jed finally managed to sit up, so he could see, only for the newcomer’s boot to connect with his head.

  Chapter 32- The Blood Child and the Porcelain Prince

  Malian led Brooke and Arantay out of the church’s main hall and through a passage that led to a long winding set of steps.

  “This is the bell tower,” said Malian. “The leader of our coven resides at the top.”

  Brooke wondered vaguely what Hallia would look like. Her mind also dwelled on Cazantian and the other vampires; and what Cazantian had said about a coming war.

  Although Malian appeared more emotionless and detached than the others, he also felt safer to be around. Arrogance didn’t follow him like a stench, and unlike the rest of his coven, no hint of hunger for her blood showed in Malian’s eyes.

  She also wondered how Arantay was feeling. She got the impression that he’d been here before. He certainly had met some of these vampires already. As long as he didn’t get too familiar with Nalia, the thought came to her, unbidden.

  She didn’t like the way Nalia had gazed at Arantay. Brooke tried to stop herself thinking this way. So what if Nalia had been blatantly showing her attraction to Arantay? She shouldn’t let herself be jealous, especially after what he’d said to her that day in the forest. She’d tried to bury her feelings for Tay ever since, but those feelings kept rushing back.

  Simply forgetting what she’d ever felt for Arantay was like trying not to eat. The hunger would keep coming back, gnawing away at her. She couldn’t help it. Every time he smiled, her heart jumped. Every time he laughed, a warm shiver shot down her spine and every time they touched, her body would tingle all over. But she had to keep trying to forget those feelings ever existed. He wasn’t interested, not in the way she was, and he probably never would be.

  Malian’s voice broke her out of her reverie. “You must learn to ignore Cazantian. He has not quite adjusted to our way of life as part of Hallia’s coven.”

  “I thought Hallia’s coven was one which doesn’t kill humans when they feed? Cazantian doesn’t seem the type to spare his victims,” Arantay said, his voice like steel.

  “I assure you,” Malian replied, “Hallia would not permit it. Some of our number may not be the friendliest of folk. But we are not mindless killers, like so many other vampires.”

  Arantay nodded, apparently satisfied.

  As they climbed the spiralling steps of the tower, Brooke asked quietly, “Why can’t you feed on humans? Just without killing them.”

  “I…,” Arantay hesitated. “I spent years training myself to resist the pull of blood. It took a long time before I didn’t have to struggle with the urge to feed off the Venators if they were wounded and such. After I was first bitten, I had to control myself, so I wouldn’t rip into the throat of the nearest human. The urge was overwhelming. In all the years since, I’ve never touched a drop of human blood. My constant worry is what that one drop could do to me. If I… if I ever
killed an innocent human, I don’t know what I’d do. The guilt I have from slaughtering so many of the forests creatures is already near unbearable.”

  She’d regretted her question from his first word. Hearing the pain in his voice was unbearable.

  “It is rare for any of us to resist taking all the blood from our prey,” Malian’s aristocratic voice echoed off the walls as they neared top of the bell tower. Brooke hadn’t meant for him to hear their conversation, but she’d forgotten about vampire’s superior hearing.

  “Many vampires who live off animal blood, have taken the same course as you, Arantay, never allowing human blood to touch their lips.”

  They arrived at a wooden door set into the wall. Malian stood aside to let them enter first. The cold night air rushed forward to greet them, as they emerged on top of the tower. They stood on a large square platform, decorated only by the giant copper bell hanging down in the centre. The cityscape of London stretched on either side of her. The dome-ceiling was held up by four pillars, with nothing in-between.

  A statue of a child stood at the edge of the roof, looking out at the shining lights of London. The child was small and thin, with thick swirls of curly white hair, like a bright halo atop his head.

  Ever so slowly, the statue turned to look at them. Brooke gasped as she realised it wasn’t a statue at all. Eeriness crept into her soul as she faced him. It was like he wasn’t meant to be, a ghost from a forgotten place and time.

  He looked androgynous, a child of maybe seven years old. His eyes were startlingly large and round, and the shade of palest crimson. They weren’t a child’s eyes, not filled with a simple joy or wonder, but vacant.

  Fear arose within Brooke as the child stared at her. Although he looked small and innocent, her strongest urge was to run, not give him a cuddle.

  “There is no need to fear me, Brooke Carn.” A gentle voice echoed inside her head.

  “W-what?” she stammered.

  “Hallia is a mute,” Malian explained. “Her tongue was cut out by her maker after she was turned. If it wasn’t for her exceptional gift, it would be much harder for her to communicate.”

  “That- that’s horrible, what kind of a person would cut out a little kid’s tongue?”

  “A very cruel one.” Hallia’s voice echoed inside Brooke’s head again.

  “I shall say what I have to say to all of you at once, rather than speaking to you individually.”

  The aura of agelessness that emanated from the child’s tiny form was overwhelming, perhaps matching even Vanderain. Brooke suspected that this child could have been around since the dawn of time, could’ve seen the rise of pyramids, witnessed the fall of Rome. Hallia was the epitome of ancient.

  “Not the dawn of time, but Egypt and Rome, yes.” Brooke gasped again, realising Hallia could hear her mind as well as speak through it. “Although I was eleven when I became a vampire, but I was always small for my age. I guess that’s tenfold now.”

  Brooke no longer wondered how Hallia had known her name.

  “There is much for me to tell you both. But first, thank you for responding to my request. It is a pleasure to meet with Realmers again.”

  “Uh, that’s okay,” Brooke said awkwardly. “We thank you for your coven’s aid in our battle with the Rakarn, sir- or Madame, sorry.”

  Laughter echoed inside her head. It was the joyous chuckle of a child, yet it held a deep sadness that a true child could not understand.

  “You may simply call me Hallia. I was born a boy, centuries ago. Henry was my name. Yet that body was not the one I should’ve been given. I guess there’s a brutal irony in it. Now, I’m an adult trapped in a child’s shell by my vampirism. Yet as a human, I was a girl trapped in a boy’s body. It seems the gods, if any exist, can be terribly cruel.”

  “Oh,” Brooke hesitated, feeling a surge of compassion for her. “I’m so sorry. I never even considered that a child might be turned into a vampire.”

  “Over the countless years, the curse becomes less of a burden to bear, at times.”

  Hallia paused for a moment, then spoke swiftly. “With my gift, I’m able to hear the thoughts of everyone for miles around. I know Venators can learn to read minds, though on a smaller scale. I have learnt to shut out the thousands of voices that speak to me, and only seek out those that are useful.

  Most recently, I’ve heard things that would be of great interest to you Venators, as they are to my coven. Andon has been slain, but now his pack will seek vengeance upon you for killing him.

  Before you arrived, the wolves were convinced we moroi were the cause of Andon’s insanity. Now, half of them believe you’re to blame, whilst other wolves still blame us. There have been clashes in the streets between my coven and Vore’s pack. I fear that a war will ignite between our two forces. I know Venators protect humanity. If the war begins, innocents will be caught in the crossfire, and perhaps even the existence of the Moonlight races will inadvertently be revealed to them. I cannot risk discovery by the humans, or death by werewolf hands. I ask for your assistance.”

  “How do you propose Venators stop the war?” Arantay asked. “We aren’t exactly

  best of friends with the lycans ourselves.”

  Hallia blinked, for the first time since they’d met.

  “I would ask that you go to Vore himself and explain that the vampires had no part in Andon’s madness, that it was the Rakarn. I have felt their minds in the city, such wretched thoughts they have. I know Dark-Venators often create fear, madness and murder, just to spite those who protect against it. Their plan all along was to ignite this war.”

  “We know,” said Brooke. “Your vampires saved us from the Dark-Venators. The leader of the Rakarn group told us they were behind it. Not only do they want this city to be a warzone, but they want the Venators to take the blame for it. And…their plan worked,” she finished weakly.

  “Aye,” Arantay said. “Vore will not listen to a word we say. He’ll likely kill me before I get the chance. Even if he didn’t, I doubt he and his pack would take our word for it. Not after we fell into the trap the Rakarn set.”

  “True, but I have proof you can bring to Vore that shows neither of our forces are behind it and that the Rakarn are solely to blame,” Hallia said.

  Arantay scowled, thinking hard. “If we present irrefutable proof to Vore, it’s possible we could clear this up. Knowing their temper, the wolves would want vengeance upon the Rakarn as well. They wouldn’t stand a chance against all three of us.”

  “What’s the proof?” Brooke asked, hoping it would be enough.

  “At first, I thought I could tell Vore what I have heard from the Rakarn’s minds and how they inflicted their sorcery upon Andon. Vore, however, could assume I was lying and set his pack upon me. So I asked the city’s ghosts, for London is horrifically haunted and the spirits have often helped me.”

  That was news to Brooke, although it did explain why the Ectoplastic Abode hotel was staffed completely by spirits.

  “Fortunately, one ghost bore witness to a group of Rakarn chasing down a werewolf, throwing their spells at him. The wolf must have been Andon. I can arrange for this spirit to go with you to meet Vore and help convince him of the real culprits. I shall also give you a signed letter declaring the vampires had no part in Andon’s insanity, by my word. Unlike many of his brethren, Vore does have some honour. It may help.”

  “Thank you.” Brooke nodded gratefully. “But why can’t you go to Vore yourself, or come with us?”

  It was Malian who answered. “The lycans cannot be trusted.” He’d been so still Brooke had forgotten he was there. “We have an agreement with the pack that no vampires shall enter their domain, so long as no wolves enter ours. The last time we tried to meet, Vore would only permit Hallia to enter alone. We believe, as soon as Hallia entered, the whole pack would attempt to slaughter her and clear the path for Vore to take over London. So, unless Vore agrees to an audience with Hallia where she is accompanied by at least eig
ht of our coven, we cannot allow it.”

  Hallia smiled. “My vampires may be a touch paranoid, or maybe they are right to be. Either way, they deem me too important to risk going to the pack without them.”

  “Ah, so we’re just not as important,” Arantay replied. “It doesn’t matter if the werewolves rip us to shreds when we deliver your message.”

  “Careful how you address my sire, Arantay,” Malian spoke coldly.

  “It is quite all right,” Hallia held up a hand for peace. “I understand there is great risk for you. But I am confident that with a witness and my letter, they will hear you out.”

  “Perhaps,” Arantay said. “We will need to consult with Veneseron’s Masters if we’re to go. They will send reinforcements to help me, and probably send you back to the Fortress.” Arantay turned to Brooke. “With Dark-Venators, this mission has become far too dangerous for someone with your inexperience.”

  There was no malice in his tone, only fact. But Brooke didn’t want to be sent back to Veneseron with her tail between her legs.

  “Unfortunately we cannot wait. Vore could declare war at any second.”

  Arantay shook his head, “I’m sorry, but we-”

  “One other thing, Venator.” Hallia interrupted. “I thought you should know that I have sensed another’s thoughts in the city. This other is a being who is never far from your own mind.”

  “Falawn!” Arantay’s lips pulled back, as if about to snarl.

  “Yes. I believe he runs with the Rakarn now.”

  Brooke’s eyes widened at Arantay’s reaction.

  His jaw clenched in an effort to keep his sharp teeth hidden, and his body shook with a terrible rage.

  “Enough games, Hallia. Tell me where Falawn is. If you can hear his thoughts, you could lead me to him.”

  “I can,” Hallia paused. “And I will. Once you meet with the werewolf pack.”

  “A favour for a favour,” Arantay managed to say, his voice no more than a whisper, but as sharp as a knife.