‘Unlike me, Danton had time.
‘I heard a cry behind me then, turning to see the fledgling dragging herself up from the bloody muck. A ragged black hole had been blasted through her face, her one good eye fixed on her maker. “Master?”
‘I marched back across the mud to where she was trying to rise. She shrieked, voice ragged with agony and fear, eye still on her dark father.
‘“Master!”
‘The fledgling turned to run, but my silver flail tangled up her legs, bringing her back down to the mud. As she tried to drag herself away with her hands, I drove Ashdrinker down through her back, pinning her to the freezing earth. She twisted to bite me, but my boot forced her face into the muck, and reaching to my swordbelt, I drew a sharp knife made of pure silversteel, the Angel of Retribution soaring on the hilt.
‘“No, w-what are you doing, what are y—”
‘The monster screamed as I drove the blade into her back, began sawing at the ribs just below her left shoulderblade. Fledgling she might’ve been, but she was still a Voss, and it was more than thirsty work, the thing bucking beneath me, thrashing and wailing.
‘“Danton, help me!”
‘Not a girl, Gabriel. Not a human. Just a m-m-mmmmmonsterliketherestofthem.
‘My teeth were gritted, face spattered with ashes and rotten blood – no peerless swordsman, just a butcher now. And as I worked, silvered blade slicing through bone as hard as iron, I felt that old familiar thrill, that dark joy rising as I looked into this thing’s eyes and saw realization dawn – that after all the murder, all the nights of blood and beauty and bliss, here was where it all came to an end.
‘No fear.
‘“Please,” the monster begged as I drew out an empty phial. “P-please …”
‘Only f-fury.
‘I forced my fingers between the fledgling’s ribs. Her plea became a scream as my fist closed about her heart and tore it from its moorings. The organ began rotting as soon as it was free; stolen years rushing back with a vengeance. But I held it in my fist, squeezing a rush of luscious, dark blood into my phial before all turned to ashes. The vampire’s spine arched as the thief of time took hold, stealing back what was his. And in a moment, it was over – little more than a husk remaining inside that pretty dress it had been so fond of.
‘I breathed deep. Grey and red. I looked down on the monster, the wreckage, the little girl at my feet. And then, up into the eyes of the one who’d murdered her.
‘“Did you tell her you loved her, Danton? Did you promise her forever?”
‘The Beast of Vellene stared at me across the bloody ground. Holding his ruined arm, looking on the ruin I’d made of his children, eyes like burning coals in his skull.
‘“Thou shalt suffer for this, Silversaint. And it shall be legendary.”
‘And with little more than a whisper, he vanished into the fog.’
X
RED SNOW
‘THEY CAME DURING the d-day, Gabriel.
‘“I know,” I said, marching back towards the Dhahaeth gate.
‘E’en in a mud puddle like this, a Prince of Forever putting himself arisk under the n-noonday sun … desperate must he b-be to find this boy afore something else does. We must track them down. We m-mmmust know the truth of it, t-truth of it.
‘“I always find it so pleasing,” I said, looking down at the blade, “when you insist on telling me shit I already know.”
‘Ye should have listened to Chloe, Gabriel. Both then and now, n-now and then. Think of all we m-may have been spared, if thou hadst b—
‘“Shut up, Ash,” I warned.
‘The fault is mine as m-mmmmuch as—
‘I slammed Ashdrinker back into my scabbard, silencing her voice as the gate opened wide. The militiamen waited beyond, the taverne lass, other townsfolk, all watching me with horror and awe. Du Lac came down from the battlements, and I glanced at the wheel around his neck, up into his eyes.
‘“Merci for the assistance, Your Grace.”
‘Du Lac had the decency to look ashamed. “You seemed to have matters in hand …”
‘“Which way did they ride?”
‘“… Whom do you mean?”
‘“From the taverne last night, you powdered prig,” I snarled. “The short woman with the big hair. The priest. The boy. Did they head north like they said?”
‘“I beg your pardon, but—”
‘“Oui, Chevalier,” the taverne lass said. “They rode out north.”
‘“Merci, Mlle Nahia,” I nodded, striding past. “I say again, your blood’s worth smoking.” Glancing to the highwalk, I called to the militiamen. “I’ll be keeping your flintbox if all’s well with that, Capitaine.”
‘The grizzled man nodded. “With my blessing, Chevalier. God go with you.”
‘“I’d rather he minded his own fucking business, if it’s all the same.”
‘I made my way to the stables, haggled for a saddle, provisions and harness to replace the ones I’d lost when poor Justice died. I probably left town a few royales lighter than I should’ve, but I was too fretful to harp on it.
‘Broken and befuddled though she was, Ashdrinker had spoke true. Vampires were creatures who lived forever if they played their cards right. Ancien were seldom stupid and never reckless. I could scarce believe a creature as old as Danton had put himself at such risk. And if that boy Dior was so important that a son of the Forever King hunted him …
‘I saddled up Jezebel and rode hard through Dhahaeth’s north gate. Chloe and her band had a good head start, and I’d have to ride swift to catch them. The gash Danton had given my face was slowly closing, but my broken ribs still ached with every breath. The dark sun threw a feeble light on the road ahead, autumn noon as bleak as winter sunset.
‘I knew this used to be wheat country decades back – that these lands would once have swayed with stalks of gleaming gold. Now, the few farms that had managed to stay afloat grew the only things they could: potatoes and other roots, and great, rolling fields of mushrooms. Fungus sprouted everywhere. Luminous maryswort crusted the fence lines and rocks. Pale tendrils of asphyxia wrapped themselves around the long-dead trees, and thick growths of massive toadstools encroached into the muddy road.
‘Rot. Swelling. Spreading.
‘As we rode north, the sanctus began wearing off, my hangover catching up with the comedown and the pain of my beating kicking in. The farmlands receded, and Jez and I reached open road. The ?mdir River was a silver serpent in the distance, and I could see thick deadwood through the gloom to the east, a hill crowned with a ruined watchtower. We passed a sign hammered into a lifeless elm, overrun with fungus.
‘DEAD AHEAD.
‘Ashdrinker was a heavy comfort on my hip. The thought of the blood I’d milked from that fledgling’s heart was a greater comfort still. The thirst was already creeping back on me with red and slippered feet. Night drifted closer, I heard the rush of the ?mdir ahead. And squinting through the darkness, I felt my heart sink.
‘“Facefuckery …”’
‘Allow me to guess,’ Jean-Fran?ois ventured. ‘The folk of Dhahaeth had destroyed the bridge.’