Of the Blood Page 8

  But there was one other option to get to Carpathia. To go the long way around and brave the Lonely Ocean, which also had equally horrifying tales of its own.

  I despised the water and I hated sailing on it. Seasickness plagued me as soon as I set foot on a ship. That, along with the stories, was reason enough for me to stay in Sartha on solid ground. I never sailed beyond the Argent Sea. The furthest I’d ever been was to Merchant Port with my parents on their trades.

  When the assassins left, I was a sobbing mess. I heard Andrés tell Melaina he’d be near the entrance if we needed anything.

  Melaina stayed next to me, her hand stroking my hair as I lay curled by the fire. “Don’t worry. You’ll be okay,” she whispered.

  But I wasn’t going to be okay. My mother was gone. She was never going to come back. And I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye.

  “I also lost my mother when I was young,” Melaina said softly. “The last thing I remember was her giving me a kiss on the cheek and telling me to be good while she went out to gather herbs in the forest. It was a beautiful summers day. The sun was shining, and I was playing outside. But when the sun set and she never returned, my aunt and grandmother sent men to search for her. They found her body lying in the forest. She’d been abused and murdered.” She paused. I glanced up at her wiping a tear that slipped down her cheek. “We never found the killer. He’s still out there. But one day I’ll find the man who did it. I’ll make him suffer, like he did to her.”

  “I’m so sorry, Melaina,” I breathed. She shook her head.

  We both stared at each other. Without words, we shared our agony and grief. With a sad grin, Melaina’s lips started to move, but I could scarcely hear what she was saying. In moments, my eyes became heavy, head numb, and body tingly. Before I could curse her for placing a spell on me, darkness overtook me.

  I dreamed I was soaring in the clouds high above the sea. Swooping down, I sighted my father’s ship, run aground in a rocky cove. I knew it was his ship because Calla was painted on both the port and starboard sides.

  My eyes fixed on the lifeless bodies sprawled out over the deck. The wooden slats beneath them were painted crimson with their blood. As I flew closer over the carnage, my stomach heaved.

  These were people I knew. People who’d worked closely with my father, who had visited our home, talked and laughed with us, dined with us, who we’d befriended. The pain in my chest—an immeasurable, encompassing sadness—crashed over me, engulfing me in sorrow.

  Then, I located the Whyte’s—Brynna’s parents—lying next to each other, hand-in-hand. Blood smeared across the deck, about fifteen yards away, showed me that in his last moments, Brynna’s father had dragged himself across the deck to be with his wife. To die with her.

  Then my eyes latched onto a figure. It was her. My mother. She was lying near the bow of the ship with her auburn eyes opened wide, staring into the brilliant sky. She looked so peaceful, as still as the sea on a windless night. Around her head, in the shape of a halo, was a pool of blood.

  I wasn’t prepared for it. Wasn’t prepared for her death. I would never get to see my mother again, or hear her voice, even to scold me. Death was forever, and I hadn’t even had the chance to say goodbye. I hadn’t said goodbye.

  It felt as if my heart was shattering, over and over, into irreparable fragments. The sight of her lifeless body crushed me thoroughly. Every cell within my body travailed, throbbing with a grief I’d never encountered before. A pain so sharp and radiating it felt as though my chest was going to burst.

  “No!” I wailed, shooting up out of the nightmare. Deep, violent sobs burst from inside me. I was soaked in sweat, my head and chest throbbing.

  “Calla, are you okay?” Kylan asked, heading over to me.

  “I—I saw them. The bodies. On the ship.” I could barely choke out the words through my heaving sobs. I struggled to compose myself so I could speak. “My mom. She was . . . she was there.” I gasped for air. I couldn’t breathe. Another set of heavy sobs tore from me. “Why would Trystan do that? Why would he show me?”

  Kylan sighed and shook his head. His eyes moving to the others who looked equally confused as he was. “I’m deeply sorry, Calla. I don’t know why.” He kneeled next to me, his palm lying tenderly on my back.

  The last words my mother had said to me were . . . Be good, darling. We’ll celebrate your birthday when we return. We’ll see you in a few weeks.

  I couldn’t hold the tears and uncontrollable sobs. “My best friend . . . her parents . . . they’re dead too. Is she in danger?”

  Kylan paused and glanced at the others. They didn’t respond, just remained there, silent and somber. “We don’t know how much the enemy knows about you, so we can’t make assumptions about your friend just yet. Right now, the enemy’s focus is entirely on your grandfather and his bloodline.”

  I inhaled a sharp breath and tried to collect myself. “He’s not my grandfather! He’s a murderous bastard, responsible for all those innocent deaths.” Tears streamed down my face. My chest heaved and ached, and although I wasn’t certain if my heart was dead, it felt very much alive.

  “I don’t blame you,” Melaina added. “I would disown the bastard too.”

  I tried to wipe the tears spilling down my cheeks. “I need to be sure my friend Brynna is safe. I can’t leave Sartha until I know. She has no other relatives, and when she finds out about her parents, she’ll come looking for me. She’ll assume I’m dead too. And what happens if they find her?” The thought of her alone, finding out her parents were dead, and I was missing? “I’ll never forgive myself, or Trystan, if anything happens to her. She’s all I have left.” Another loud sob ripped from me.

  “I’ll send a message to Trystan,” Kylan said, his eyes softening. “And there is still hope that your father is alive. They could have taken him to Morbeth, knowing he is Nicolae’s kin. Trystan’s father has spies throughout Talbrinth. If they see or hear anything, they’ll let him know.”

  I’d heard of the wealth of Carpathia and of its mortal ruler, Lord Astor. But I’d never heard mention of a vampire kingdom, or the Vladu clan.

  Everyone remained silent, allowing me my space while I composed myself and was ready to communicate without crying.

  “Why don’t humans know vampires exist?” I finally asked.

  Kylan, perching next to me, set a few dried branches onto the fading fire. “The vampire kingdoms are concealed from the mortal race. They’ve been heavily warded with strong glamours to keep them invisible to mortal eyes. Only vampires and mages can see through the veils. And of course, those who serve within the vampire kingdoms.”

  “How long have they been on Talbrinth?” I recalled Kylan telling me there were seven vampire kingdoms in Talbrinth, one located in each country.

  “Since the beginning,” Kylan answered. The others made their way back to their beds to settle back down. Probably not wanting to be involved in this discussion. “They were established centuries before mortals settled the land.”

  “Do the Lords of each country know about the vampires?”

  “Yes, because each mortal Lord was appointed by an immortal King.”

  The thought was startling. To know there were immortal beings who’d been residing in Talbrinth from the beginning, ruling, and watching us from their large, hidden kingdoms. They were the puppet masters. It all made sense now. No one had known how the mortal rulers came into power so quickly, but it was because they had wealthy, immortal backup.

  Kylan continued, “When the Great War broke out, causing devastation and ruin, the vampires watched and waited. When it was done, they stepped in to help rebuild and reestablish their regions, while remaining silent and invisible.”

  “Why didn’t they do anything to stop the Great War?”

  Kylan shrugged his shoulders and sighed. “Man possesses a free will. When they wage war against one another, we don’t interfere.”

  “And vampires don’t wage war?”

&nb
sp; “With cause, vampires will go to war. And right now, Trystan is working at all costs to avert such a war.”

  It was all so overwhelming, and the agony in my chest wasn’t going away.

  “Hey, get some rest,” Kylan said. “At first light, we’ll leave and make our way toward Carpathia.”

  “What about the sun?” I saw and felt what a small ray of light did to my hand.

  “We’ll be protected under thick robes and cowls while remaining under the canopy of trees as long as the forest allows.”

  The thought of walking miles in the dank wood, under a thick, hooded cloak, didn’t sound like a pleasant way to travel. “How long did it take for you to get to me?”

  “So many questions,” he exhaled, a lopsided grin tugging on his mouth. “We left Carpathia seven days ago.”

  “A week?” Good gods. This rescue had been set in motion days before I’d even met Trystan. And it again proved he had planned it all out, while I’d remained clueless. “I just have to know that my best friend is safe.”

  “As I said, I’ll speak with Trystan,” Kylan said softly. “But if she’s not blood-related to you, she shouldn’t be in any danger.”

  I hoped Kylan was right. “So, what happened to the threat outside?”

  “They were disposed of,” he answered promptly, then his eyes went distant. “Except one. He was remarkably fast and wielded magic.”

  “Magic? Vampires have magic?”

  “Only purebloods,” he stated, putting another log onto the fire. “But few possess magic like the one that got away. He must have been the Prince of Morbeth—the brother of the one your grandfather murdered.”

  I stared into Kylan’s tired, turquoise eyes. “Does Trystan have magic too?”

  He grinned. “He does, and he is immensely powerful. All purebloods are. But they are careful to whom they reveal their magic, for it can be used against them. Even I, after all these years of working for Trystan, don’t know the full measure of his magic.” He pushed up to his feet. “try to get some rest. The more you rest, the faster your strength will return.”

  I had one more question. “What kind of power do newborns have?”

  A gleam flickered in those turquoise eyes. “It differs. Tomorrow, we’ll put you to the test.”

  Lying back down, I closed my eyes, but couldn’t sleep. I said a silent prayer to the gods above for my parents. That they would embrace my mother and welcome her into the next realm. I also prayed they would keep my father safe . . . wherever he was.

  A gentle nudge roused me from my sleep. I blinked a few times until my eyes focused on Melaina a few feet away.

  “Wake up. It’s almost time to leave.”

  “What time is it?” I yawned, stretching my stiff limbs.

  “The sun hasn’t risen yet, but I just made contact with Trystan. The Prince of Morbeth was here last night. He’s furious that his mission failed and is presently assembling another unit. They should be making their way toward us now.”

  “Wait.” My head started reeling. “He traveled to Morbeth and back in a few hours? How is that even possible?”

  “Purebloods have magical abilities. And for all we know, the Prince of Morbeth could have had an army waiting nearby.”

  “If an army is coming, what should we do?” I could feel my panic rising.

  “Don’t worry about that right now,” she replied coolly, pulling her satchel over her shoulder. She moved until she stood in front of me. “I thought you should know, I gave Trystan hell about showing you what happened on your parent’s ship last night. He swore it wasn’t him and truly feels like shit. I must admit . . . I do believe his sincerity. He thinks maybe you and Nyx have a connection like they do, because of the partial bond. And he also thinks that because your thoughts were on your parents, Nyx took it upon herself to show you.” Melaina shrugged, then whispered some words, and waved her hand over the fire and it instantly went out. No hot coals and no lingering smoke. “Let’s go,” she said.

  Kylan and the others were already up, packed, and dressed in their fighting leathers.

  I hauled myself up, my muscles ached, but the pain in my chest was much worse. My mother. I’d never get to see her beautiful face again or hear her sing in the mornings while she made breakfast. She couldn’t carry a tune but, gods love her, she would belt out her songs, anyway. I needed to get her body and give her a proper burial. Maybe Trystan could help with that.

  Kylan made his way from a distant part of the cave toward me. “How are you holding up?”

  I shrugged. “As good as I can be, after finding out my mother is dead, and that my father has been possibly taken captive by hunters who want to execute him. Do you think they’ll use him to draw Nicolae out from hiding?” I blew out a frustrated breath. “I have a feeling Nicolae couldn’t give a shit about what happens to him—or me, for that matter.”

  “No one has much information about Nicolae or even if he’s still in Talbrinth,” Kylan replied. “For all we know, he could have run and is on another continent.”

  “What’s our plan then?” I asked Kylan.

  “Our plans have changed. We’re to head north toward Havendale, where we will meet Trystan.”

  “Trystan will be in Havendale?” My insides twisted at the prospect of meeting him again. Havendale was Baelfast’s largest town. It was also where Lord Huxley, the ruler of Baelfast, lived.

  He gave a wary expression. “It seems he wants to ensure your safety. He also wants to speak to the King of Baelfast in hopes he has further answers about Nicolae, and hopefully, the whereabouts of your father.” Kylan handed me a leather belt with a sheath on its side. “Here, put this on.”

  I did as he said. Then he held up a white cloth with a dagger lying on top. It looked ancient. Its hilt was made of a white stone with two symbols carved into it, embedded with gold.

  “Those are runes.” Melaina stood next to me and pointed to each of the symbols. “This first one means guidance and the second . . . accuracy.” She stepped even closer, her right palm skimming the air above it but not touching it. “This blade is old. I can sense its magic. It’s a rare relic,” she spoke mostly to herself.

  “It’s Trystan’s,” Feng replied. “It was his father’s, passed down through the generations.” He sheathed two freshly sharpened swords to his back. “I’ve never known him to be without that dagger at his side. I’m astonished he let it go.”

  I swallowed hard and picked up the dagger. As soon as my fingers folded around its shaft, electricity jolted me. I gasped, releasing the blade, and watched it fall and hit the ground.

  We all stood in a circle around the relic, witnessing the gold runes glow bright red.

  “I’m sorry,” I breathed, wondering if I should back away or pick it up. “I didn’t mean to drop it.”

  Melaina’s jade eyes narrowed on me. “You do have magic inside you. Strong magic. I felt it the first time I touched you, and now,” she pointed to the dagger, “this relic has affirmed it.”

  “I—I don’t have magic. I’ve never felt or sensed anything out of the ordinary. No magic. No power. Not even a spark until now.

  Melaina shook her head. “One of your ancestors had to have been a witch or had considerable power.”

  That couldn’t be true. “Neither of my parents have magic.”

  “Sometimes magic can skip a generation or two. It seeks out those deserving of its power,” Melaina explained. “Do you know anything about your grandparents?”

  “My grandparents on my mother’s side were mortals who lived and died in Aquaris. My grandfather was a fisherman and my granny was a seamstress. They were simple people who lived modest lives. There was nothing unusual about them.”

  “What about Nicolae and his wife?” Melaina’s arms crisscrossed over her chest.

  “Until a few days ago, I didn’t even know Nicolae was alive, let alone know anything about his wife . . . if he even had one. My father has no record of his birth parents. Shortly after he was born,
he was left on the steps of an old parish in Sartha. The minister and his wife—my grandparents—took him in and raised him as their own.”

  Melaina cast a glance at Kylan, then back at me. “Well, there is clearly magic in your blood. The only way to know for sure is to find your origins.”

  “Good luck,” I murmured. “If Nicolae is killed, all hopes of obtaining any information will die with him. I don’t think anyone knows what he looks like.”

  “Except the Prince of Morbeth,” Kylan replied. “He must have information on him.”

  Melaina took a stride toward me. “If I had anything that belonged to Nicolae, I could attempt a locating spell.”

  “We have nothing,” I groaned. “Nothing but a death decree.”

  “What about her blood?” Brone asked. “If they are kin, Nicolae’s blood flows through her.”

  “Using blood is complicated. It not only carries his DNA, but everyone else in her lineage . . . on both sides. That can make the location spell overly complex.”

  “Wouldn’t it only locate someone alive? Everyone, except for me, Nicolae, and hopefully my father is all that’s left. At least that I know of.”

  Melaina shrugged, her brow furrowed as if she were contemplating it. “We can try, but it takes time, and I’ll require a few supplies.”

  “What do you need?” Kylan asked.

  Melaina’s freckled brow crumpled. “Water and a quiet, dark corner of the cave.”

  She then drew a black cloth from her pack and started to unfold it. Wrapped inside were four candles in varied colors that were previously used. She strode to a far edge of the cave and began to clear the ground. She then asked me to help her gather larger stones and create a circle.

  I did as she said, and when the circle was complete, Melaina said a prayer to cleanse the space before setting the candles inside. She explained the green candle, representing earth, was set toward the north. The yellow, air, was set east. The red, representing fire, was placed south, and blue, water, to the west.