Chapter 37
Vastion
Twenty sentries. That was the extent of the circle entrusted to deliver us safely into the Heart of Eventide.
Our secret escape from Leto would not be without criticism from its citizens; the circumstances had to seem dire.
Leaving them behind in the wake of a second siege was not an easy decision for me, nor for Esiree.
It was impossible to know which would be worse.
An entire village of humans, fragile from the attacks and the added shock that their once-feared Vampyr King was now a frail human like them.
Word would spread quickly to the Heart, even quicker to the other territories of Devana.
Our secrecy was essential in order to command any sense of control over the situation.
Esiree recovered slowly from her wounds on the return journey.
Nile doted on her like she was a small child.
I, on the other hand, lived moment to moment with the fear that my new state of existence was temporary—perhaps even catastrophic.
But with each passing hour that my worst fears did not come true, I began to settle into this new reality, despite Orin’s trepidation and scrutiny.
When the ship docked inside the Heart, Esiree and I played our parts to perfection.
She feigned injuries so severe she could not stand or walk.
This would make for a passable ruse, granting us safe travel to the privacy we required.
Orin commanded the harbor onlookers to disperse.
She lay on a litter, draped in heavy linens, and I walked swiftly just ahead of the group.
Mina marched angrily toward us from the far end of the hallway.
Her voice was a sharp, measured lash, cursing Orin, demanding the answers he refused to give until we reached the sanctuary of the royal wing.
Behind us, the sentries hauled two large crates; when I heard her audible gasp followed by a fresh volley of beratement, I knew Orin had revealed our stowaways: Esiree’s father and brother.
But that irritation was nothing compared to the silence that followed.
Stepping around the other humans, she impatiently moved toward me.
For the first time in her long life, she was speechless.
No raised voice, no disparaging remark; only pure and utter disbelief.
Her nose wrinkled as she caught the scent of the warm blood flowing through my veins, and her eyes went wide when she heard it: the rhythmic pitter-patter of a heartbeat she hadn’t heard since our Turning.
“Is this real?” Red tears welled along her lashes. She looked to Orin, searching for some reassurance that she hadn’t lost her mind.
I walked closer, cautiously. I didn’t know if she would recoil from a creature so fragile, so...human. I simply held out my arms, hoping she would come willingly.
Suddenly, Mina crashed into me. I wrapped my arms around her, pulling her close as the sobs of her relief broke against my chest.
“I don’t believe it,” she choked out. “You’re human. You’re really, actually human!”
“I am,” I whispered, cupping the back of her head. Behind her stood Laila, looking equally stunned.
“How is this possible?” she said, her voice trembling.
I turned to face my miracle. Esiree had emerged from her litter, bracing herself with one arm draped over her brother’s shoulder. She was still pale, her movements slowed by her wounds, but she began to walk toward us with a quiet, resilient grace.
By dinner, our small Privy Council, once a circle of four, had swelled to eleven.
The private dining hall felt almost like a banquet, though rations were the furthest thing from our agenda.
Gathered there were the three Parcaetes, Esiree and her kin, Lailanor, Samina, Orin, and Alyric—to whom I owed my life.
That night marked the first of many grueling sessions.
We labored over the deception: first convincing the citizens of the Heart to remain calm while their queen recovered, explaining the king’s absence as the devotion of a man who refused to leave her bedside.
Then there was the matter of sustenance.
Concealing four human appetites had been a challenge; seven was a logistical nightmare.
Laila took charge of the kitchens, weaving a web of secrecy to ensure we were fed without alerting the castle staff to our presence.
We sequestered ourselves in the royal wing and the Hollows, hiding our scent from any who were not bound to us by blood or oath.
In my temporary absence, Mina ruled with an iron fist. She kept the city in check, enforcing strict rations and dispatching aid to Leto in a desperate bid to restore a sense of normalcy.
Nile seemed to have forgotten the need to sleep.
He redressed Esiree’s wounds frequently to ensure proper healing, and I knew the guilty look in his expression was a result of the countless scars that would never fade from her skin.
Scars he had put there to save his daughter’s life.
Every part of me felt more fragile now, including my emotions.
Everything seemed bigger and beyond my grasp.
When I pondered having almost lost her, I became overwhelmed and found myself fighting the constriction of air in my lungs.
Her father worked tirelessly alongside the Parcaetes, determined to uncover the alchemy of how biting Esiree had led to this outcome. The answer they discovered was more elegant than he could have imagined, particularly since he spent so much time delving into the corrupted flesh of the Rabid.
On the second night, while his daughter slept, Nile came to me.
He confessed that he was the catalyst for Leto’s fall to the Forlorn.
More than that, he sought atonement for treacheries I swore we would never speak of again.
I would not be the one to strip Esiree of her family, regardless of their past sins.
His confession was raw, omitting nothing of the ill intent that had taken root as far back as the Harvest. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting—a monumental fear surfaced that perhaps my wife’s presence in my life had been born of betrayal. It was a hauntingly familiar pain.
Yet, despite the vulnerability of my human form, I knew my heart had been irrevocably stolen.
Perhaps it was first taken under the guise of villainy, but now it was enslaved by a true, unshakeable love.
Time was no longer a vast, stagnant sea; it was the falling sands of an hourglass, and I found myself measuring every grain in the breaths shared between us.
“Esiree’s birth into this realm was not a calm one,” Nile said, fighting back tears at the memory. “Her mother should have carried her for at least two more months, but I refused to give up when the Gods gifted me such a tiny soul on the same day it would rob me of my other half.”
We sat in silence, all of us, listening to Nile explain the unique nature of Esiree’s birth.
“My wife was bitten by a Rabid, which spurred an early labor. Her wounds and blood loss were ultimately too grave, but one can imagine that the affliction of her assailant had already begun to take hold. Weaving its way through her body, seeking a new host where it could survive.”
Tyber interrupted excitedly, “But the cord is magnificent in its nature!”
Atticus squeezed Tyber’s shoulder, urging him to quell his desire to unveil their findings and let Nile speak.
Esiree’s father laughed at the old man he’d quickly come to respect. “Yes, Master Tyber…the cord! The vessel connecting Esiree and her mother’s life is the element we believe protected my daughter from a ghastly fate worse than death.”
The Council listened intently. Tyber looked like he was going to jump out of his seat if Nile did not grant him permission to share in their hypothesis.
With a nod of his chin, Master Tyber eagerly added, “The properties in her blood did not succumb to the vampirism, and instead bonded with the disease, before forcing it to evolve. To adapt!”
Cade’s smile beamed across the table. “It created an antibody.”
“What’s that?” Orin questioned, sparing the rest of us from puzzlement.
“It’s like an antidote!” Cade chirped, pleased with himself.
Tyber nodded proudly. “Yes, yes, my boy! Esiree’s blood contains the key to an antidote!” He turned to face me, his eyes beginning to water between our locked gazes. “It’s what we’ve been searching for all along, Your Majesty. A cure. She’s been under our noses all this time!”
We both let out a small laugh of disbelief.
Mina, ever the skeptic, chimed in, “But will it last? How long till my brother is subjected to some inexplicable reversion, if not worse?”
Tyber rolled his eyes at my sister, letting out a perturbed hmph that she would not allow him to celebrate his victory without scrutiny.
Nile spoke up, “One result does not prove a theory; she is right. It’s why we’ve convened. We require an additional subject to further solidify our findings.”
People rustled in their seats, no one looking particularly interested in volunteering.
“And they need to be a female…” Atticus added nervously.
Mina scoffed, “Not a—”
“I’ll do it,” Lailanor said calmly from beside me.
It was between Alyric, my sister, and Lailanor.
If I was being honest, I knew there wasn’t a chance Mina would volunteer, plus she was needed in her current position, overseeing the Heart as one of them.
Alyric would have done anything we’d asked of her, but Orin needed her on his side.
I should have known Laila would offer so selflessly.
She glanced at me, then back at Tyber, seeking a permission she no longer needed.
I nodded. “Thank you.”
“I’m not afraid of death. I should like to see her again in the Endless,” Laila whispered. I knew exactly of whom she spoke, and my lashes prickled from the sentiment of her welcoming a mortal life which someday meant mortal ends.