Chapter VI. Fourth Dawn
VI
FOURTH DAWN
“‘I TOLD YOU of that night’s beginning, Dior. The ball at Chateau Durand where I took my first communion. When Laurent first kissed me. But I did not tell you its end.’
“The library about us was silent, and I could hear the soft beat of Dior’s heart. Her eyes were on mine, pale blue in the dark, but my own were fixed on the carafe between us. His face, reflected over and over now upon those facets of crystal.
“Traitor, Wulfric hissed. Deceiver.
“I turned away, back toward that night.
“‘Even as I’d drunk Victorine down, I’d heard the commotion outside.
But it wasn’t until I peered out from the balcony I understood.
The chateau grounds were filled with people—revelers from the ball come to gawp, gens d’armes with burning brands sweeping the estate.
Down by the stables, I saw soldiers and the Baron himself silhouetted against rising flames.
I remembered Percival and Aleks had left the ball in pursuit of their marks, and I looked for them among the crowd.
But I could see neither them nor my master.
“‘Vampyr! came the cry.
“‘The Dead, by God! The Dead are among us!
“‘Heavy fists pounded the bedchamber door.
“‘Master Laurent? Are you well?
“‘My songbird startled at the cry, his pulse quickened. He was covered in blood, the carpets drenched red and Victorine’s wasted corpse twisted upon the floor—there could be no hiding what happened here. His eyes were sightless yet full of love as he turned to me.
“‘Go, Celene.
“‘I obeyed, scrambling up the wall and over the rooftops. I could hear barking hounds now, raised voices, but I didn’t stop to look behind. Leaping down to the snow and over the chateau walls, I fled, off through the falling grey before any could mark me. I knew not what happened to Wulfric or the others, nor to the kith we stalked that night, but I was certain someone had perished—that awful scream I’d heard still echoing in my ears as I slipped down the midnight thoroughfares, back toward our home.
“‘Toward the priory.
“‘Through the side entrance I stole, down stairs I’d trod a thousand nights before.
But already I could feel this night was different, the scent of burning candles mixed with the stink of charred hair and meat as I dashed through the wending maze beneath those hallowed halls.
And barreling out into our library, I discovered Aleks laid upon one of the tables, Percival beside her, head hung low and cheeks wet with blood.
“‘What happened? I hissed.
“‘The m-mortals.
“‘His whisper was pained, edged with rage. I saw Percival was beaten, scorched, his lordly finery in ashen tatters.
“‘C-Celene …
“‘I rushed to Aleks’s side, face twisted in anguish at the sight of her. She’d been burned, oh God, burned so awfully I could scarcely recognize her.
Gone was that wondrous white gown, those golden curls, her flesh charred to the bone.
She clutched my hand so tight she almost crushed it, her eyes burned blind yet still seeking mine.
“‘It h-hurts, little sister. Oh, help m-me, Almighty God …
“‘Aleks.
“‘I turned and saw Wulfric, now stood in the library doorway. A zephyr he was, flashing to Aleks’s side, agony in his eyes to match her own as he sank to his knees.
“‘Oh, my brave liathe, what have they done to thee?
“‘He took her hand and kissed it, though it was barely more than a blackened twist of charred sticks. The hurt in his voice set me wondering if perhaps he and Aleks had become more than master and acolyte—if I’d been so busy dallying with Laurent that I’d missed some secret dalliance beneath our own roof.
“‘What in the name of God and Illia happened? he asked me.
“‘I was not there, Master.
“‘Wulfric’s eyes fell on Percival then; that little face wet with bloody tears.
“‘Our m-marks were taking a pair of doves off to tumble, Master. They spotted me and Aleks as we shadowed them from the ball. But the house gens d’armes were roused at the clamor, and they arrived with t-torches. Aleks was already wounded by the Dyvok …
“‘Percival shook his head, glowering at me.
“‘Where were you, Celene?
“‘Where was I? My eyes narrowed, sorrow pricked to rage. Where I was supposed to be, Percival! I was watching the Whisper!
“‘I told you to tell Master that Aleks and I were headed after our marks!
“‘And my mark was on the move! I’d no time to run errands for you!
“‘Enough! Wulfric snapped. This be no time for squabbling! We have come close to calamity, and should thank God Almighty for his mercy. If Aleks had died by the flame this night, her soul would be lost to flame eternal.
“‘He signed the wheel, Aleks moaning in agony as he pressed her blackened knuckles once more to his lips. And I saw the fire of fury sparked in those black eyes.
“‘We shall avenge these hurts in time. We shall find these kith and deliver them t—
“‘His voice stilled, eyes drifting to the ceiling. And though my senses were not as sharp, still I caught the edge of it; the sound of a multitude. Raised voices. Snatches of scripture. A pounding, faint but heavy, as of fists upon the priory doors.
“‘… Were ye followed?
“‘I realized Wulfric was speaking to me, shaking my head as I replied, No. No, Master. None marked my path here, I made sure of it.
“‘He turned to Percival then. And thee?
“‘I … He glanced to Aleks, licking at his lips. No, Master. None saw us.
“‘A child. Carrying a full-grown woman through midnight streets? And in such a state? Wulfric’s eyes narrowed. Yet not a single soul marked thy coming here?
“‘Percival glanced to me, fear in his eyes now. Master, I—
“‘The pounding came again, the sound of crashing timbers. Dread uncoiling in my belly, I realized that after years of hiding beneath San Yves’s skin, we were at last undone. I could hear them now: running feet, bellowing voices, shrieking nuns. The catacombs beneath the priory were hidden, but not so well they’d not be unearthed in time.
We couldn’t simply wait down here to be discovered. But with Aleks so hurt …
“‘I wondered what this moment might have felt like in times of old, with the sun full risen and nowhere to run. I knew Wulfric had already lived through terror like that, his tales of the Charbourg’s fall ringing now in my mind as he looked to the shelves about us.
“‘Gather the scriptures, Celene. No more than thou canst carry. It may be we can return in time, but save the most—
“‘A crash rang out above, a scream, the clamor of dozens, hundreds of people.
“‘Find the vampyr!
“‘The little one! Find the little one!
“‘Percival blanched at that, eyes gone wide.
“‘Fetch Grace, Wulfric snarled, towering over him.
And gather clothes. Weapons. A shovel. We will be sleeping rough amorrow, thanks to thy incompetence.
But think not that shall be the end of thy punishment, little Percival.
He looked to me, black eyes burning. Gather the holy words.
I will ensure the way is clear. Go, both of thee!
“‘We did as commanded, Percival dashing off to gather belongings while I headed to the shelves.
With what little reverence time afforded, I filled a chest with gold-trimmed codices, those gospels of the Faithful that had survived the exodus from Charbourg.
By the time I was done, Wulfric had returned, informing us the side passage was clear, be swift now, be swift.
Percival dashed back into the room with a trunk under one arm and a cat under the other, Grace looking distinctly displeased at the interruption to her evening.
My master lifted Aleks gently from the table and she cried out in agony, her fangs pearl white against the blackened wreckage of her face.
“‘D-don’t let me die, Master. Please, don’t let me b-burn.
“‘Fear not, my brave liathe. The kingdom of God will be thine.
“‘Aleks closed her blinded eyes, bloody tears spilling down scorched cheeks. We ran swift as silver up from the priory’s bowels, Wulfric in front, Aleks in his arms, Percival and I behind.
We could hear folk rampaging through the halls above, cries of outrage and the stink of smoke.
Up the wending stairs we fled, fleeting shadows, spilling finally out into the cold San Yves streets.
“‘Cold. But no longer empty.
“‘More folk had gathered, surrounding the priory now. Gawping commoners and outraged rabble mostly, but among them were gens d’armes in the Baron’s red livery.
They carried spears and swords, burning torches illuminating the sea of horrified faces, a woman raising one finger and screaming in the night.
“‘Vampyr! God help us, VAMPYR!
“‘The soldiers advanced across snow-clad cobbles, flames in hand.
With a shout, Percival dropped Grace and tossed me a sword, stepping to meet them.
They were brave men, defending their city from the monsters among them.
But in the end they were only mortal, the crowd screaming in horror as we put them down; too swift, too strong, too awful to counter.
But more were coming; more men, more flames, closing on all sides now.
“‘And so, Wulfric stepped to the fore.
“‘He still carried Aleks over his shoulder, broken and blackened. But in his free hand, he wielded his blade of blood, sprung from his opened palm as he set to. He prayed for forgiveness as he slew those soldiers, face drawn and grim. But in his eyes, I could see fear now; the same terror he must have felt during Charbourg’s fall, as the Emperor’s crusaders swept into the holy city and Voss’s Knights of Blood burned Illia’s dream to ash.
“‘Head for the westwall! he roared. Go!
“‘Master, we’ll not leave you!
“‘Save the scriptures, go, Celene!