Chapter 1
The moonlight bestowed a delicate shimmer on the snow-covered slopes and blurred the jagged edges of the rocky cliffs. Liliana always marvelled anew at the mighty peaks. Here, stripped of trees and meadows, the Continent presented itself in all its glorious mass and majesty.
Beyond those peaks, she believed she could already make out the silhouette of Finsterwald Castle. A flood of conflicting emotions stirred in her chest: relief at the imminent landing, joy at the prospect of seeing Annie, fear of the other Lords’ reaction to Sartiria’s disappearance, grief for her grandmother, and trepidation at the possibility of facing her family.
A sudden gust of wind caused her to swing back and forth. With stiff fingers, she clung to the leather straps tied around her body. El’s boots came precariously close to her head. The holy Light inside her made it impossible for him to touch her. Even through layers of clothing, he suffered bouts of weakness and nausea as long as he remained in contact with her. As they had discovered, the vampire horses fared no better, for Shadowprancer had shied away from her and would not let her near him. This had added an extra night to a journey that would have taken only one if flown in a straight line.
El had sent Boras, who had joined them soon after Inay’s departure, ahead with Shadowprancer to announce their delayed return. Although he made no mention of it, Liliana knew that El was worried about Tripp. Trying to hold a bad-tempered Baldrich and his horde at the border sounded like a risky endeavour. And Tripp was not known for his caution or diplomatic skills.
From this height, the castle looked more than ever like a wilful, living creature, from which a turret grew here and a balcony there, a staircase hither and a door yonder. Fluttering shadows detached themselves from the wall and headed towards them.
‘Lord Eldric?’ came the astonished exclamation of his guards. The way El carried her through the air in this extended halter had to be a comical sight.
‘Well observed,’ El replied.
‘Lady Kathleen is currently busy with your visitors. Shall we inform her of your arrival?’
‘Visitors from Evernight Valley, I presume?’
‘Yes, Mylord. As well as a delegation from the Crimson Plains who have recently arrived.’
El grumbled indignantly. ‘In that case, I’d rather do it myself.’
They flew between the guards, who respectfully moved aside. El landed not on top of the wall, but on a small ledge at the bottom of the southern wall of the castle. His wings scraped against the stone, as he had to get very close to the wall so Liliana could place her feet on the ledge. Her left leg was completely numb and buckled immediately. She grabbed the handle in front of her to prevent herself from tumbling.
‘Are you standing?’
‘Y-yes.’
El slumped next to her on the ledge, clinging to the wall, and the straps slackened. ‘That was far from an elegant manoeuvre. Fortunately, we don’t have any spectators here.’ He laughed wearily and pointed to the door latch with his chin. ‘If you would …’
Once she had found her balance, she jerked open the door, which – wisely – opened inwards. The narrow corridor beyond lay in semi-darkness. As soon as El had locked away the dizzying height behind them, he undid the leather straps wrapped around his forearms. His skin beneath was chafed. Yet it had been more comfortable for him to carry her like this than to hold her.
Liliana shivered. At least the wind was no longer blowing through to her bones in here. She slipped off the repurposed halter. The places where the leather had held her weight ached. In a strange way, she welcomed this pain. It anchored her in the body that felt so foreign since Sartiria had left it. Everything seemed unreal to her. She moved, talked and acted as the situation required. But the connection between the inside and the outside was broken. Both worlds continued to run separately and oddly offset.
‘I’m afraid we can’t treat ourselves to a bath.’ She heard El’s voice intrude from the outside world. ‘I will have to answer to the other Lords, especially our visitors.’ He looked at her from the side. ‘And I’m afraid I won’t be able to keep you out of this affair.’
She nodded. Baldrich and Aleksander knew too much about Sartiria’s plans. The disappearance of the Lord of the Crimson Plains naturally raised questions. Surely El would be true to his word and cover for Inay?
‘Are you going to tell them what happened?’
‘As far as would seem wise to me.’
Rapid footsteps echoed through the corridor. Someone was approaching with demonic speed.
‘El!’ Lola skidded to a stop in front of them. As always, she could have been mistaken for a spoilt bachelor at first glance, with the way she was dressed. ‘Finally … You’ve been told about Baldrich and Aleksander?’
‘Yes.’
‘And you …’ She faced Liliana with narrowed eyes. ‘Boras said something went wrong. You’re not Sartiria any more, but now you’re shimmering?’
‘The Light that destroyed Sartiria stuck with me.’
‘That means …?’
El sighed. He shook out his maltreated hands and spread his fingers. ‘For now, we can’t touch her.’
‘You had better come with me right away. Baldrich’s patience has been tested to the limit. Tripp couldn’t keep his horde at the border for more than a night without bloodshed. And Kathleen has been doing her best to distract everyone from the fact that we are effectively under siege.’
As soon as they stepped into one of the larger corridors, roaring noise spilled in from the courtyard. She had to run to avoid being left behind by the two vampires. A shadow jumped out of an alcove and joined them. Even in the dim light streaming through the pointed arch windows, she recognised Tripp by his springy gait and bright blond hair sticking out in all directions.
‘Axton is duelling right now,’ Tripp said as they hurried on. ‘He’s already beaten three opponents, but he won’t stay upright for much longer.’
They soon reached El’s study. He opened the door and walked around his desk. The smell of paper, dried ink and oiled wood greeted them. In the far corner stood a wooden horse. She felt a pang in her heart. Annie’s toy!
‘Do you know where Annie is? Can I see her?’
‘You will have to wait until we have fobbed Baldrich off with a more or less satisfactory explanation.’ El placed a bulbous bottle on the desk top, which he had just taken out of his bog-oak cupboard.
Tripp eyed the concoction inside. ‘What’s that?’
‘A present from your father.’ El uncorked the bottle and sniffed it.
‘From Olin? Is this another one of his attempts to avenge Luella’s death?’ Lola bent down and reached for the bottle, but El snatched it from her with a lightning-fast movement and stood up.
He toasted to the ceiling. ‘To Olin.’
Tripp stared at him in disbelief. ‘What are you doing?’
‘What does it look like?’ El grinned, took a big gulp and grimaced. ‘I’m poisoning myself.’
‘Have you gone mad?’ Lola hissed and tried to take the bottle from him again.
Smoothly, El dodged her and took two more sips. ‘Maybe.’
Without additional light from lamps or candles, Liliana barely recognised the colours of the stained-glass window to his left. Her dull mind struggled to keep up with the rapid pace of events since their arrival at the castle. How could poisoning himself before the upcoming conversation with Baldrich and Aleksander possibly be helpful?
El caught her worried look and lowered the bottle he had just put to his lips again. ‘I wouldn’t want to give the impression that I took no damage from my encounter with the battle saint,’ he said with a little more mildness, before opening the window and tossing the bottle out. The fall to the foot of the castle rock was too great for Liliana to hear the impact.
Lola groaned. ‘I sincerely hope you don’t overestimate yourself …’
A row from the other side of the door signalled the arrival of several vampires. Voices shouted in confusion, drowned out by Baldrich’s bass. ‘Where is that faithless shrew?’
Liliana started. The Lord of Evernight Valley was looking for her. What would he do when he found out that Sartiria was dead and the alliance he had just made with her was null and void? She swallowed and interlaced her fingers.
‘Let me do the talking.’ El stood behind the desk. Lola stayed at his side while Tripp dropped onto one of the seats.
The door flung open and hit against the wall. Baldrich stalked in and stopped in the centre of the room, breathing heavily. He was still wearing the same torn clothes as on the night Sartiria had visited him. His moustache quivered with indignation, and his powers rolled over those present like a thunderous avalanche of debris. Tripp and Lola reacted by activating their own powers.
A small scuffle broke out at his back, from which Aleksander stole away. His rich blue shirt looked as if it had just been ironed. He brushed back his dark, shiny hair and froze when his gaze fell on Liliana. Even if he hadn’t spotted the soft glow on her skin, the lack of demonic powers betrayed that his Lord no longer inhabited her body.
Facing Aleksander like this felt odd. He hardly knew her at all. Liliana, on the other hand, knew how he thought, who he admired, the name of his former love, his favourite shirt, how long it took him to pack for a trip and many other little things you learned about someone you spent a lot of time with.
Meanwhile, Kathleen took up position in front of El’s study. With her head held high, her full, dark waves of hair and her sophisticated dress, she was sure to attract the attention of the scuffling vampires. She managed to lure the other visitors away with the prospect of generously poured blood wine, and someone pulled the door shut. The noises from outside died away.
Baldrich approached Liliana with flared nostrils. Pointing to her chest with an outstretched finger, he turned to El. ‘She’s become human again! What does that mean?’
‘Sartiria is dead.’
‘Dead?’ Aleksander had not taken his eyes off her since he entered.
‘We knew that the hunt for the battle saint was a hazardous undertaking. Which is precisely why we didn’t take either of you’ – El looked at Baldrich and Aleksander in turn – ‘with us.’
‘Ye snuck away during the day and hoodwinked me!’ The Lord of Evernight Valley bared his teeth.
‘For your protection. And for the protection of your family.’ El’s legs and hands trembled. The poison worked quickly. ‘This battle saint was dangerous. Dangerous enough to kill a powerful Lord like Sartiria.’
Aleksander’s incredulous stare was starting to make her feel uncomfortable. ‘So, the Crimson Plains have lost their head yet again in a conflict involving Finsterwald,’ he uttered.
Tripp sat bolt upright. ‘What are you saying?’
El leaned on his desk with both hands. The trembling had spread through his whole body. It was astonishing that neither Baldrich nor Aleksander seemed to notice. Their attention obviously lay elsewhere.
‘We tracked down the battle saint and lured him into a trap. But he managed to free himself. He and Sartiria killed each other. You should be grateful to the deceased Lord.’
‘Don’t make me laugh,’ Baldrich thundered. ‘Ye walk into my castle, kidnap my ally and now she’s back to being your human lover. And that’s supposed to be a coincidence? How convenient for ye.’
‘Convenient?’ El gritted his teeth. ‘Look at her!’
Aleksander’s eyes narrowed. ‘What are you alluding to, Lord Eldric?’
‘The battle saint has blessed her whole body with holy Light. What good is a lover to me whom I cannot touch?’
Something inside her tightened into a sad lump. El might twist it a little, but he still spoke the truth.
Sniffing, Baldrich came closer until his broad-shouldered figure was only half an arm’s length away from her.
‘Go ahead,’ El said, giving her a furtive, apologetic look. ‘If you are able to touch her, she is all yours.’
Baldrich licked his lips. ‘’Tis a tempting offer …’
He reached for her face with a half-lascivious, half-amused grin. The gesture brought back the memory of his tongue in her mouth. She wished herself far away. Even with her normal, human nose, she recognised his signature scent: damp earth, moss and animal fur. Nausea stirred in the pit of her stomach, mingling with the arousal her body had felt under Sartiria’s influence at the time.
She backed away at the same moment as Baldrich pulled his hand back with a growl. His attempt to grab her by the arm ended just as fruitlessly.
‘That’s enough,’ El hissed as the Lord of Evernight Valley reached out for her for a third time. His face had turned an unhealthy greyish-green shade by now.
Baldrich snorted and made way so that Aleksander could test the effect of the Light for himself. He cautiously reached out for her hand and withdrew it with a cry of pain. Then, to everyone’s astonishment, he addressed Liliana.
‘You witnessed Sartiria’s last moments?’
She was so taken aback she answered without thinking. ‘Yes.’
‘What happened?’ Aleksander asked almost gently.
Liliana had only seen him through Sartiria’s eyes and hadn’t realised what a handsome vampire he was, if one looked past his conceit. She could suddenly visualise how he seduced young girls in order to drink their blood. At least Sartiria hadn’t entangled her in an affair with her counsellor, too.
‘I …’ Liliana swallowed. ‘She jumped at him to smash his skull against the cave wall. Where he was trapped. And he filled her … he filled my body with Light. Sartiria was … hurled into the void.’
‘And she took the battle saint with her to his death?’
‘Y-yes.’
‘A tragic yet not unfitting end.’ Aleksander sighed. He seemed to believe her account more than El’s words. Perhaps her shared appearance with Sartiria worked in her favour for once.
Liliana felt under her blouse for the obsidian that had been hanging there, forgotten until now. She carefully pulled the necklace over her head and held it out to Aleksander. ‘This doesn’t belong to me.’
Astonishment flickered across his face and … regret? He silently looked at the lustrous emblem before accepting the obsidian, cautious not to touch her fingers.
‘On behalf of the Crimson Plains, I thank you for the honest return of this precious heirloom, human.’ Aleksander bowed his head and stowed the black gem in a pocket. He wasn’t using the term human as an insult.
Behind him, Baldrich folded his arms over his hairy chest. ‘And how is it that everyone round ye is snuffing it, Lord Finsterwald, while ye get away scot-free? Ye must have kept yourself nicely in the background while Sartiria did the fighting.’
‘Sometimes it’s survival of the fittest, sometimes survival of the wisest.’ El glared at Baldrich, as if to suggest that he was both. Then he pulled his coat collar to one side to draw everyone’s attention to his neck.
Why was he showing them his bite mark? It proved that he had fought his own kind, not a saint. Like the vampires in the room, Liliana leaned forward. On closer inspection, the scar had no jagged edges, as she would have expected from a bite. Instead, the tissue looked like a strange symbol, a circle with rays … a kind of sun. Liliana shuddered. There was only one explanation for this: El had deliberately cut his neck open again to conceal the true origin of his injury!
‘Unscathed is not the right word. My powers have healed me for the most part, but the battle saint has—’
The next moment, El was writhing in convulsions.
‘Lord Eldric, what’s wrong?’ Lola called out.
‘Nothing,’ El groaned. ‘Nothing … I’m … fine.’
A dark cold spread through the room, making even Baldrich flinch. El retched and held on to the table, swaying. Sweat pearled on his forehead. The cold dropped, reappeared again with renewed intensity, then stopped abruptly. Had he lost control over his powers? What was this poison doing to him?
‘Huh.’ Baldrich stood with his legs apart and scrutinised his rival. Gloating oozed from his every pore. ‘Looking neither strong nor smart right now, Lord Finsterwald.’
El grimaced in pain, while his breath came in sharp gasps. His hands clenched to fists as he sank to his knees behind the desk. ‘If you … would … excuse me … for just a …’
Aleksander squinted at him and then at Lola. ‘What is that mark doing? What is happening here?’
‘Come on, out, you two!’ Tripp jumped up and waved their guests towards the door. ‘Get your wine and …’ He paused and remembered his manners. ‘I mean, of course, dear Aleksander and honourable Lord Baldrich, please enjoy our wine and grant our Lord a moment of rest after his long journey. He has only just returned.’
While Aleksander hesitantly left the room, Baldrich demonstratively remained and looked down with satisfaction at El, who was shaken by violent spasms while his powers alternately flared with icy bite and died down again.
No sooner had he finally made his leave than El pushed himself up, staggered away from the table with a groan and vomited out of the window from which he had thrown the bottle earlier. Then he slid to the floor and lay there with twitching limbs.