Yasmine Galenorn - Night's End

As we neared the front of the chamber, my heart leaped into my throat. There, a dais ran the width of the room, about five feet high. Regina lithely jumped up onto the platform and took a look around. Then she turned back and motioned for Kaylin to join her. He scrambled up as Regina offered me a hand. Check simultaneously hopped up to join us.

I quickly glanced around, on high alert. And there, about ten feet away, crouched Crawl, the vampire of my nightmares.

Twisted and bent in a low squat, Crawl was near a cushioned seat, but he ignored it as he sniffed the air. He was an insect, a walking stick, with skin that had been blackened and crisped. His face was wet with rivulets of blood. Viscous and sticky, they trickled down his jowls. A swollen tongue snaked out from his mouth, hideously long, to flick at the droplets as they neared his chin. His eyes were black as night—vampire’s eyes, yes, but the lids had long ago been burned away, and his gaze was hollow.

Yet I had the feeling he could see through me to my insides, see my bones and blood and muscle and sinew. When I’d first encountered him, he’d had clumps of matted hair, but now his head was smooth, and that made him look even more alien.

I glanced to the left, and yes, there was the fountain I remembered. It bubbled brightly with blood, echoing with the merry sound of splashing. A circle of flames surrounded the font, and it was from here that Crawl drank, forever burning himself to reach the sweet blood he craved. It seemed terribly sadistic of the vampires—to punish their oracle by making his food so painful to reach—but the ways of the Crimson Court eluded me, even though I was beginning to understand the need for authority to bear a certain ruthlessness . . . even cruelty at times.

Crawl let out a slow hiss and leaped toward me, but then, as I stumbled back, he stopped short. It was then that I saw the iron chain around his neck. It blended in with his skin, and it gave him a certain amount of leeway while keeping him at bay. He could reach his fountain, and his cushioned seat, which was large enough to sleep on, but he could not reach me.

He let out a garbled shout as rage and disappointment filled his face, but it passed as quickly as it had come. “Regina, Regina. My wayward child and lovely daughter of the vein. Your brother is forbidden in my presence, you know.”

“This is known and accepted. Lannan is not with me. I come seeking information. I bring you sweet offering in return for your sight. This matter concerns the Vampire Nation . . . the Crimson Court, in a peripheral manner.” She slid a narrow dagger out from a sheath hidden at her ankle.

“The only offering the Blood Oracle accepts from you is the sweet blood of Cicely. Such a sweet, warm taste. I would have it from her neck.” He licked his lips, looking at me. I turned, trying to avoid his gaze.

Regina cleared her throat. “The Blood Oracle remembers what the Crimson Queen has decreed, does he not? For escaping from your prison, you may not press lips against flesh. I will give you her blood, but in the offering font, and only with your promise to read the omens and seek the answers.”

I stole a glance at Kaylin. He had never encountered Crawl—not up close. Kaylin had been wounded during the last battle and had not been there to see the Blood Oracle attack me. But he’d witnessed the aftermath in my scars.

He was staring at Crawl with a revulsion that I seldom witnessed on his face. After all, he was connected to the Bat People through his demon, and they were an odd race in themselves, alien and terrifying. But Kaylin grimaced as Crawl leered at me, licking his lips again.

“The Queen in her madness gives me no quarter, does she now, my dear daughter? You pain your father thus. . . . But you must do what you must. I will accept the pittance and be satisfied with that.” The sad, puppy-dog voice sounded contrived, a spider spinning a web. Crawl’s only pain was that he wasn’t allowed to rip me to pieces in a feeding frenzy.

Regina stared at him for a moment, then in a rare show of temper, blurted out, “Old Father, do not push me. I may carry your blood within my veins, you may be my sire, but I will not stand for this. We are facing dangers that could lead to the downfall of all, including the Crimson Court. Your personal whims and desires? They are nothing in the face of she who seeks our demise.”

Crawl blazed up, a rearing back, hissing at her, his fangs down and ready, but then he paused, and—simmering at a low boil that I could feel from where I stood—backed down.

“Very well, daughter . Make your offering, and I will do my duty and give you my sight.”

I followed her to the font as she watched to make certain Crawl stayed the distance. He moved too fast and could be on us in a heartbeat, but her warning seemed to have staved him for the moment. I hurriedly held out my hand, and she sliced deep, across my palm. I turned my hand palm down over the fountain, my arm wavering between two of the flames, and my blood spurted into the font. A moment later, Regina bade me remove my hand and then lifted it to her lips, licking it slowly, every touch of her tongue sending shudders through me. And they weren’t unpleasant.

Crawl watched with greedy eyes, and Regina quickly moved me out of his reach again. “Old Father, drink and be satisfied. Then tell us what you see.”

In a blur, the Blood Oracle was at the font, his tongue dipping into the blood as the flames licked his face. He showed no sign that the pain was hitting him, though I knew it must be. But maybe time had seared his nerve endings; maybe he simply no longer cared.

“What say you?” Regina motioned for Kaylin to come close while I moved back to stand by Check. “Old Father, look into this one—is he loyal to Cicely? To the Court of Snow and Ice? Has he pledged his help to the Indigo Court?”

Crawl cocked his head, leaning close to sniff at Kaylin. “You smell like demons, like bat guano. You smell like a cold autumn night, and like ghosts of the past. I hear spirits around you—they follow you and watch, waiting to see what you do. But . . .” A pause, while the vampire seemed to take stock.

With a shake of the head, Crawl moved back to hop up on the cushioned seat. He hunkered down, his feet on the cushion in front of him, bony knees thrusting up near his chin. “Come here, young man.”

As Kaylin approached, Crawl grabbed him by the head and pulled him close, licking him across the eyes and face. Kaylin let out a cry but went limp as the Blood Oracle’s hands held him tightly. And then, as a low beat began to resound through the chamber, Kaylin began to scream, writhing in Crawl’s embrace. But the vampire held him firmly, not biting him, but breathing on him, his gaze fastened on Kaylin’s unblinking eyes.

He twisted as Kaylin struggled, but never let go. Crawl’s voice was raspy as he sank into a trance, and the words echoed off the walls of the chamber.

“This one is no danger to our sweet Cicely. He craves nothing . . . save for one young woman. But his threads of destiny lead in a different line than hers, so hearts afire will fizzle and love will wither. However . . . there are alliances being formed, but not the ones you fear—and not ones to fear. This one . . . He is destined for great things but not in this realm. Your destiny lies in a dim and distant land, boy—so prepare to leave your home. Your destiny will plunge you into the heart of the darkness from which your demon was spawned.”

And with that Crawl curled up on the cushioned seat and turned away, falling into a silence that echoed louder than his words.

Kaylin slipped into a fugue as Crawl let go of him. Regina dragged him back for Check to carry—though she easily could have done so—and motioned for us to follow her quickly. We headed back through the maze of plain floor tiles as Crawl let out a shout that reverberated through the chamber. It was a howl, a guttural cry of frustration, and it scared the hell out of me.