Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
LIVING THE DREAM
‘Humans used to fly to these places, didn’t they?’
‘They did.’ Varin brings me a mug of tea and sits next to me on the velvet sofa.
Night is almost over, but I can’t sleep.
We’re back on the south coast, after travelling through the night from Old London, parked on the edge of a huge port, waiting for the ferry to the Channel Islands.
A vampire port, so everything is gleaming and works well.
No rusted hulks, no rotting buildings here.
I should be excited, to finally see my project come to fruition, but can’t seem to muster any joy. Only rage.
I can’t get the destroyed settlement out of my mind. Or anything else I’ve seen. The ache in my chest never seems to fade, the feeling of a lost world, just beyond my reach. I know we can’t go back there. But I don’t want things to stay as they are, either.
‘Vampires don’t fly?’
‘No. We have a horror of it. The way light comes upon us so quickly above the clouds, it’s not safe.
Plus, there’s no point.’ He shrugs. ‘Time has less meaning for us than it has for humans. We’re not as invested in getting to places so quickly, despite our speed.
We’re creatures of the earth, of blood and soil, our affinity with the ground, not the sky.
It was humans who dreamed of getting closer to the stars, not us. ’
‘And now they waste away on glorified farms. All that talent, all that creativity. Reduced to one thing. Blood.’
‘Emelia, that’s—’
‘How it is, right? Sorry.’ I slump back on the sofa, my arms folded.
He’s trying, I suppose. Everyone is trying.
My mother doesn’t know what to do for me, buying me clothes from glittering shops, hugging me whenever she can.
My father tried talking to me, but I don’t know what to tell him. I can’t seem to get out of this trough.
The Challenge hangs over me like an axe waiting to fall, compounding my sorrow and anger.
I’m nervous about what’s going to happen when we get to Versailles, whether any part of our strategy to change the families’ minds will work.
Lion still haven’t responded to our invitation, and neither have Scorpion.
Jaguar sent a single jade amulet of a snarling beast, fangs out.
It’s a beautiful thing, and very valuable.
I’m unsure whether it’s a gift or a threat.
‘This has not been easy for you, has it?’ Varin’s dark glance is kind.
‘Which part do you think hasn’t been easy?’ God. I should not be sassing Varin.
‘Tell me,’ he replies, still so kind. It’s as though the words puncture something in me, my pain pouring out.
‘Do any of you really know, or care, what it’s like to be human? You all say you support me, but none of you ever acknowledge your own roles in the Rising, and everything that’s happened since!’
Varin says nothing.
‘I’m taking a crown I didn’t want, because it’s the only way to change things.
But humans don’t see me as one of them, because I’m a Raven, and vampires don’t see me as part of their world, either.
Meanwhile, so much that was good and beautiful has been left to rot, to be swallowed by the forest. Do none of you see that?
It just feels as though you’re humouring me. ’
‘No one is humouring you.’
‘Everyone is humouring me!’ I say. ‘Each time you say you support me, but nothing changes.’
Varin’s head tilts. ‘You are making change happen, believe me.’
‘How? By marching around in frocks in front of a crowd? Pretending I’m something I’m not?’
‘What are you pretending to be that you’re not?’
‘A ruler. A vampire. Someone with power.’
‘What makes you think you are none of those things?’
‘Stop humouring me!’ I snarl the words, baring my teeth. A strange wildness courses through me, like darkness in my veins. I pause, unsure where the surge of power came from. I feel like I could tear the coach apart.
Varin places one hand gently on my arm. I shake it off, staring at him, my chest heaving.
‘You have power, Emelia,’ he says, quiet. ‘You are showing us all that humans born of vampires are not to be underestimated.’
‘Is that all? Am I not showing you how you’ve fucked up everything, too?
Can nobody else see what I see? Fuck!’ I turn away, my hands to my head, feeling like I might burst into flames.
‘We drive around and visit places and people bow to me and pretend like they don’t think I’m supposed to be dead or food and it’s just bullshit! ’
‘It is.’ Varin’s mild agreement stops me in my tracks.
‘What?’ I turn back to him.
‘Ruling. Setting someone above another simply because of their bloodline, regardless of the type of person they are. It is bullshit.’
I laugh, despite my anger. ‘So you don’t think I deserve to be crowned?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think. Do you think you deserve to be crowned?’
I stare at him, my mouth opening and closing, the wildness in my veins receding.
‘Perhaps a walk on deck later might do you good. The ocean is wonderfully healing, or so I’ve found. It may give you the space you need to work out what happens next.’
‘I know what happens next.’
‘And what is that?’
‘I face the families, face their Challenge, and succeed. There are no other options.’
Varin smiles. ‘Good.’
* * *
The sea is wide and blue and the air smells of salt.
Pale sunlight dances on the waves, spray like white foam hissing as the prow of the ship dips.
The breeze blows through me, tangling in my hair as though it’s alive, blowing some of my shadows away.
A tendril of the strange darkness remains, though.
I wonder again at the rush of power, and where it came from.
I’m also slightly ashamed of unloading on Varin.
He was right. It doesn’t matter what the other families think.
If I don’t think I deserve the crown then I may as well give up now. It’s a sobering realisation.
‘What’s on your mind?’ Sophie bumps my shoulder as we lean on the railing.
‘Varin.’
‘And the fact that he’s the hottest thing on this boat?’
‘No.’ I laugh. There were a few curious glances from the human crew as we came on deck, but I guess the fact we didn’t burst into flames was enough to make them lose interest. ‘Although, yes, you’re probably right about that. No, he just said it might be good for me to come up here today.’
‘You’ve been struggling, huh? I’ve seen it, but didn’t want to—’
‘It’s just…’ I wave my hand, unable to express what I want to say. ‘All of this. It’s such bullshit. I just want to get on with the work, you know?’
‘This is part of it, though. Being human, around all of them. Having them bow to you. It’ll change how they see us.’
‘Yeah. That’s part of it. But this is… it’s my job. And I need to figure out how to do it. To be good at it. Like you are.’
Earlier, I’d watched in awe as Sophie manoeuvred the huge coach into the gaping maw of the waiting vessel, moonlit waves visible through a small porthole as the gangway clanged shut behind us.
‘You will be. I had a lot to learn, when I started. Although nothing like what you have to do.’
‘I yelled at him.’ My voice is small.
‘At Varin?’
‘Yeah. He was kind about it. But he also reminded me that I need to believe in myself.’ I breathe in the sea air, trying not to think about being on the beach with Michael in the early morning, when anything felt possible.
A shadowy coastline rises in the distance, like the humps of a sea-monster.
We’re getting close to the islands. Then I notice a group of small dark shapes on the horizon. ‘Are those boats?’ I point.
Sophie shades her eyes. ‘Maybe? I imagine there’s a few loose boats floating around out here.’
‘I don’t think they’re floating. They look like they’re going somewhere.’ A plume of smoke comes up from the boat at the front of the small convoy. ‘And they’re really small.’
‘Maybe they’re vampire boats?’
‘During the day?’
Sophie shrugs. ‘Humans aren’t allowed to sail around, though, are they? So it must be vamps, somehow.’ She sounds uncertain, though.
And, as I watch the small convoy disappear into the distance, so am I.
We dock a short while later, Sophie and I in the cockpit, my parents and Varin sealed in darkness below.
I decided to have a daytime arrival, to make a statement.
Let the news footage show humans living in the light, not the darkness.
We roll onto a paved quayside, a long low building ahead of us with a sign reading ‘Ferry Terminal’.
I should be excited; I’ve worked hard to ensure the island is ready. But I’m not. Instead, I’m uneasy.
A small group of people emerge from the terminal: Jane and Andrew, accompanied by a human film crew. Sea birds call, wheeling in the bright air as I exit the coach with Sophie. I asked her to come, because I wanted her to see what was possible. And also, because I needed a friend.
‘Lady Raven!’ Jane hurries over, dropping into a curtsey. ‘We’re so glad you’re here.’
‘Thank you for having us,’ I reply. ‘This is Sophie. She’ll be joining us on the tour today. Tonight, my parents will tour the community as well.’
‘Of course.’ Jane smiles. ‘I hope you’ll be happy with what we’ve done.’
‘I’m sure I will be. How’s it all going?’
The island didn’t have a lot of residents when I cleared it, and those vampires who did live here were handsomely compensated, offered alternative homes on the mainland, all expenses paid.
We had to start basically from scratch, making sure there was a school and a library, that shops were stocked with goods, that regular deliveries would be made for food and essentials, as well as seedlings and everything the community might need to become as self-sufficient as possible.
I discovered that the attics at the Raven estate were filled with furniture, so had it cleaned up and sent over, as well as making sure every home had linens and appliances, power and water connected.
‘Food deliveries are going well.’ Jane ushers us towards a small vehicle with open sides, Andrew in the driver’s seat.
Sophie and I sit in the back, Jane in the passenger seat.
‘We’ve also been planting our own, ready for growing season.
Give us a year or so and I think you’ll really see results here.
’ We leave the port, another vehicle with the film crew following as we head into town.
‘This is our new playground,’ Jane continues, as we pass an open space where parents chase shrieking toddlers across grass, push them on swings, the trees bright with spring green.
A man sells drinks from a van, people sitting on benches, admiring the view of the ocean. It’s beautiful.
We continue along residential streets, past homes with freshly painted trim and new front doors, some still with piles of building waste in the small front gardens.
‘We’re still working on these houses,’ Jane says.
‘They were in a bad way when we got here. But the community is really pulling together.’
More streets, more houses, some with window boxes and colourful gardens.
Yet there are no people around. I get it, I guess.
I remind myself that despite Jane’s friendliness, these people were trying to kill my family mere months ago.
Andrew is quiet, the scar on his hand pulling white as he grips the steering wheel.
He smiles, though, when I catch his eye.
Sophie nudges me. ‘This is wonderful,’ she whispers, her blue eyes wide.
‘It is,’ Jane says, not missing a beat. ‘You’ve changed all our lives.’
‘It felt like the least I could do,’ I say. ‘I hope it’s the start of positive change for everyone.’
‘I’m sure it is,’ Jane says, as we turn down yet another pretty street, passing a school where children play.
It looks like something from the past, a scene from the old films I used to watch.
But it’s real. And it’s the future. My mood lifts as sun breaks through the clouds, gilding everything to brightness. It feels like a good omen.
I hope that’s the case.
* * *
I’m not as hopeful during the night tour, though, my sense of unease returning.
The islands feel vulnerable, surrounded by dark sea, no guards or lights to keep predators at bay.
And the streets, despite being lined by steel barricades and Raven guards, are once again empty of people, the houses unlit.
It feels … deliberate. The human film crew are still following us but, as we pass deserted street after street, I wish they weren’t.
Then I glimpse a flicker of black-and-white fabric hanging from one of the windows. Andrew, with a muffled curse, steers us away before the film crew catch up. Not quickly enough for my parents, though. They saw it, I can tell by the set of my mother’s mouth, my father’s frown.
A banner with our crest, the raven in a circle, slashed by three lines. The emblem of the North Wind.