Kitabı oku: «Alchemy of Blood», sayfa 2

Chapter 3. Somewhere in a British forest, 2nd Century B.C.

On a pitch-black autumn night, when the only sounds were the screams of night creatures and the crackle of fallen leaves underfoot, Selene glided silently along a forest path. The full moon cast a dim light, illuminating her path. The thick fog obscured her presence like a faithful companion, but she pulled the hood of her dark cloak even deeper.

Despite the lateness of the hour, Selene had not given up hope of encountering a lost traveler, or at least finding a human settlement where she could satisfy her hunger. The thought of fresh blood made her mouth water and her throat tighten. She fought down her thirst, concentrating on the sounds coming from the depths of the forest. There seemed to be no end to this gloomy realm. Almost in desperation, Selene caught the sound of voices.

She froze in place and listened. Even though the fog absorbed most of the sounds, Selene realized that the source of them was in the distance, much further away than the average human could hear. And with the same inhuman speed, she rushed to the call of these voices. Her dark form rushed through the fog, causing the nocturnal inhabitants of the forest to fall silent and hide.

She stopped not far from where the sounds were coming from and took a deep breath, sniffing the air. It was imbued with magical energy and vibrated slightly. Selene immediately felt the tart taste of magic. Another breath confirmed her guess: the magical effect was coming from people nearby. Selene counted five or six of them by their fervent heart beats, which blended with their voices. They chanted a chant in unison, creating an enchanting rhythm. But one voice was very different from the others. Someone was screaming in pain.

Selene wanted to leave immediately, but a second scream froze her in place. There was so much pain in that cry that it made her heart ache, and old memories were reawakened. After a moment’s hesitation, curiosity overcame caution. The girl hid among the trees and thorny bushes.

Ahead, in a small circular clearing, a mighty oak tree was silhouetted, its crown stretching out over the ground. The clearing was bathed in the soft light of a full moon and torches held by five figures clad in dark green cloaks. Their hoods were pulled down to hide their faces, revealing only their pupil-less eyes, which flickered eerily like fireflies in the night. At the foot of a majestic oak tree, a young man writhed and screamed, chained to its mighty trunk. With each sound of his voice, he seemed to grow into the tree, becoming one with it, the bark trying to swallow him up, crawling on his skin. A spotted lynx thumped at his feet, whining and meowing piteously.

The scene that unfolded in front of Selene filled her with horror. Not knowing who these people were or what the unfortunate youth had done, she felt an overwhelming urge to help him. She herself had once found herself in a position where one naively cherished the hope of salvation.

Closing her eyes, Selene focused on the magic in the air. Its pulsation and fluctuation indicated who was the source of it. For a moment, nothing happened, but then the chant stopped, and with it the young man’s screams. There were confused exclamations coming to Selene’s ears, and under the hoods, puzzled glances shone at each other. They tried to renew the spell, but their attempts were unsuccessful. The angry voices grew louder. Taking advantage of their confusion, Selene rushed forward.

Running fast like lightning, Selene stunned the four men in the back of the head, instantly knocking them unconscious. Torches fell from their limp hands, plunging the clearing into darkness, which was only occasionally illuminated by flashes of flame.

The only remaining conscious person – a very young, inexperienced mage – froze in place, watching his fallen comrades with horror. After unsuccessfully trying to attack Selene with magic, he stepped back, tripped over the tree roots, and fell. The girl hovered over him, baring her sharp fangs threateningly and hissing.

He struggled to his feet and ran into the woods in a panic, stumbling and tangling in his long cloak. Finally, it was the prisoner’s turn, who had remained silent all this time. Selene picked up the nearly extinguished torch and approached him. Pushing back her hood, she met the prisoner’s gaze. His green eyes were startled and wary.

A menacing growl pierced the air. The spotted lynx arched its back and growled menacingly, ready to pounce on the stranger. But the iron collar held the cat. The young man stared intently at Selene, not knowing what to expect.

“Why did they treat you like this?” she asked in the local language.

Selene spoke many languages, her father had taken care of her education, and at least for this she could be grateful to him.

The prisoner seemed to let out a sigh of relief. Maybe he thought there was a chance to negotiate.

“For mercy,” he said simply.

“Well, someone kills for less,” Selene said.

She stuck the torch in the ground, twirled her wrists, and the sai daggers materialized in her hands, glinting silver. They glittered ominously in the light of the flames, and the hieroglyphs engraved on them looked black. The guy stiffened again at the sight of the weapon.

“Please don’t eat me,” he said nervously.

Selene, stretching her full lips in a slight smile, came closer and with a sharp movement cut the chains that held the young man. He almost fell, but managed to keep his balance. Straightening to full height, he dusted his brown leather trousers and a green woolen cloak pinned at the right shoulder with a copper brooch with three lunar phases on it.

Then he hurried over to the lynx, which was still bound by the collar. To Selene’s surprise, the young man practically mimicked her gesture, twirling his wrist with a wide leather bracelet on it. A wooden double-edged spear with copper tips appeared in his hand. With a flourish, he cut the chain, and the collar opened, freeing the unfortunate animal.

The lynx rubbed against its owner’s legs with a loud purr and sat down next to him, looking at Selene curiously.

“There you go, Sylva,” the mage cooed, then turned and looked back at the scene of his failed death. “There’s no worse punishment for a druid.”

Suddenly, a young woman landed on the ground like a hawk from the sky, sending up a swirl of dried leaves. Her lean, wiry figure was clad in green patterns that resembled bare branches, covering her bare skin from shoulders to wrists. A vertical scar ran across her left eye. Selene and her new acquaintance raised their weapons with alacrity. However, the druid who recognized the woman immediately lowered his spear. Selene, on the other hand, kept her daggers carefully ready. The stranger’s swamp-green eyes, devoid of pupils and flickering like will-o’-the-wisps, glittered menacingly across the clearing where her people lay unconscious.

As the witch made a threatening move toward Selene, she was stopped by her son, who exclaimed, “Mom, stop! She helped me!”

Selene knew that witches endowed with immortality could acquire not only a youthful appearance, but also a state of mature wisdom or venerable old age. This depended on which phase of their life cycle their age was fixed by their Triune Goddess. Still, she couldn’t help but be surprised to find a blood relationship between a mother and son who seemed to be about the same age. The witch studied Selene with an appraising gaze and, after making sure that there was no threat, calmed down. The green eyes dimmed, pupils appearing in them, floating out like the dark pool. Selene lowered the weapon, twirled her wrists again, and it disappeared. Approaching her son, the woman took his face in her hands and kissed him on the forehead.

“Thank the Dark Mother, you’re safe!” she exclaimed, squeezing him in her arms. “I ran as fast as I could!”

“It’s all right, my savior arrived in time,” the druid said, gesturing at Selene.

“The gods sent you!” the woman turned to her. “Thank you, Daughter of the Desert.”

Selene couldn’t think of anything to say, just nodded at her in embarrassment.

“Son, you can’t stay here,” the witch said, her eyes filling with tears. “I managed to talk my sister into sparing your life, but you know Devona, she’s not easy. You have a geis⁵ placed on you – instead of dying, you will be banished, you will no longer be able to be part of our coven. And no other,” her voice broke, and tears rolled down her cheeks.

The young man looked confused and sad, but quickly regained his composure and forced a smile.

He wiped a tear from his mother’s cheek with his thumb.

“And why did you have to save that fae?” asked the sad mother.

“You know me, I couldn’t do anything else,” the guy smiled gently.

“You’ve always had a kind heart. Take care of him,” the woman said, and hugged her son tightly.

Selene, who became an unwitting witness to the family drama, became uncomfortable, and she decided to quietly leave. She was already deep in the forest and walking along the path when she heard the sound of quick footsteps behind her. Turning around, she saw a young mage hurrying towards her. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

The druid caught up with her and stood with his hands on his knees to catch his breath. His heart was pounding. His lynx appeared on a nearby tree branch.

“What else do you want?” Selene asked irritably.

“I still haven’t thanked you for saving me,” he said, panting.

“A simple ‘thank you’ is enough,” the girl replied, and turned to continue on her way. To her annoyance, however, he followed her.

“I’m Frey,” the mage said.

“Selene,” she said reluctantly.

She didn’t really want to reveal her name, and she’d already left enough traces here.

“Where are you going?” Frey asked curiously.

“What’s it to you?”

“You heard I’m an outcast now, so we’re in the same boat.”

Selene stopped, already beginning to regret saving his life.

“Look, if you’re going to come after me, you shouldn’t. I’m not the most reliable travel companion. I’m a wanderer, just like you,” she tried to dissuade him, but he was adamant.

“So much the better. I’ve always wanted to see the world,” he said cheerfully.

“You’re too optimistic for an outcast,” Selene said grimly.

She had heard from the Heka⁶ priests in her homeland that witches who left their coven for any reason were considered outcasts and despised by other witches. After all, when you go your own way and don’t look back at anyone, you become impossible to control.

“One door closes, another opens,” Frey said, smiling.

Selene rolled her eyes again and shook her head. They walked in silence for a while, until Selene realized that she didn’t know the way.

And then a thought occurred to her, “You really can help me, you know. Take me to the nearest settlement, or I’ll change my mind and eat you.”

Frey stared at her for a moment, then smiled.

“Just promise not to kill anyone.”

“I won’t promise anything about you,” Selene said, a slight smile on her lips.

“We’ll definitely get along,” the druid said, grinning broadly.

“I doubt it,” Selene muttered, realizing that for the first time in a long time, she wasn’t alone.

Chapter 4

When Selene returned to the palace, the sun had already set. She walked through corridors decorated with gold sconces, huge paintings, and other works of art. Her footsteps echoed off the marble floor. All the way there, she wondered why she had been summoned to the Prince’s presence so urgently. As she approached the tall double doors, she nodded to two guards in strict black suits, who let her inside.

Once in the large and luxurious hall, decorated with dark marble and wood, lit by many candles, Selene bowed her head respectfully as she greeted the man sitting on the dais in a high carved chair. His scarlet eyes strained over the lines of paper, and he didn’t seem to notice her at first. Candlelight glinted off his thick, jet-black curls, setting off his sharp features.

“You wanted to see me, my lord?” Selene broke the silence.

The man looked up from his paperwork and finally turned his attention to the girl.

“Selene, there you are. Fine,” he said with a tight smile, tucking the folded papers into the inside pocket of his black jacket.

Prince Adrian ruled the vampire empire for more than a thousand and a half years, raising it from the ashes of disparate clans and uniting all vampires under his powerful hand. He established centralized power, created a code of laws and punishments that put an end to centuries of chaos and violence. His wise policy was followed by the leaders of other supernatural races, who recognized the wisdom and power of unified government. Selene always respected the Prince and supported his views, but there were also those who did not share her opinion.

“Our scouts have captured a suspected spy from the First Pack,” the Prince began without preamble. “He entered the city a few days ago and was collecting information.”

Selene frowned at the news. Why would the werewolves send a spy? She couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more to it than met the eye.

“What makes you so sure it’s a spy?” she asked after a moment’s thought. “Perhaps he came for another purpose?”

Adrian shook his head, “If that were the case, he would have come to court first, as he should,” he replied, pacing the room nervously, hands clasped behind his back. “Yes, we made a peace treaty with the previous Elder Alpha, but who knows if the new one will follow it?”

His pale, usually unreadable face was tense and anxious, even in the dim candlelight. Selene understood the reason for his agitation: the Prince and the Elder Alpha had once been allies, if not friends. The unexpected death of the werewolf leader a few years ago shocked and saddened the entire supernatural world. Together, the two leaders reached an agreement that ensured a fragile peace between their peoples. But after the new Alpha ascended to the throne, there was turmoil among the werewolves. Many did not share the radical views of the new leader and deserted from the First Pack. Others, on the contrary, flocked to it, strengthening its ranks.

“Maria is currently interrogating the prisoner, but so far to no avail,” Adrian said with a wry smile. “Do it while there’s still something left of him. You know how much she gets carried away sometimes. As soon as you’re done, let me know immediately.”

Selene, trying to hide her annoyance, left with a bow.

***

Selene grew increasingly uneasy as the elevator sank into the depths of the dungeon. The oppressive atmosphere of the upcoming interrogation weighed heavily on her. She had hoped for a quick and painless testimony, avoiding a scene of bloodshed.

The smooth elevator doors swung open, looking out of place on the old, damp stone of the dungeon. Selene approached the massive metal door and entered the access code. The surveillance camera was like a cyclopean eye, watching her every move intently. The green light came on, and the door slid open with a crash.

Animal howls and desperate human screams reached Selene’s ears. She strode resolutely down the narrow stone corridors, her heels clicking loudly.

The detention cells were located opposite each other. As she neared the right camera, Selene’s sense of smell picked up the sharp smell of a wolf mixed with the metallic tang of blood. Finally, as she turned the corner, she saw Thomas and Greg, the Prince’s bodyguards, standing at the end of the corridor. Together with Maria and Selene, they formed the Prince’s Personal Guard – an elite group of clan members who performed particularly important tasks.

The bodyguards, dressed in severe black doublets, stood silently in front of the cell’s entrance. Their faces and clothing bore the marks of a recent battle. There were fresh wounds on their skin that were just beginning to heal. Noticing Selene’s approach, the vampires started up.

“Here comes the ‘good’ cop,” Greg said, smiling and narrowing his bright red eyes.

“You look amazing, boys, go freshen up,” Selene suggested, walking over to them.

“Yeah, we look pretty good. That big guy was a tough nut to crack,” Thomas said, tugging at his clothes as if that might help.

There was another roar outside the door. Selene glanced at the guardians with displeasure. Thomas averted his blue eyes, and Greg grinned into his beard.

“Come on, let the girl have some fun,” he said.

“Open it,” Selene ordered, nodding toward the door.

Greg punched in the access code, and Thomas opened the door, inviting her inside. The first thing Selene saw was a bold and bloodthirsty look in those huge scarlet eyes. Maria had a smile on her face that made her look like a creepy porcelain doll.

She was so tiny that she was almost as tall as the prisoner who was kneeling. The girl was standing behind him, running pale fingers through his snow-white hair.

The man was breathing heavily, head down. His white shirt was stained with blood. Wavy hair, just below his shoulders, was soaked with sweat and fell over his face. His hands were shackled in front of him.

An enchanted silver collar, attached to the floor with a thick chain, on which shone the bindrun of the god Tyr, who once bound the divine wolf Fenrir, prevented the werewolf from turning.

“That’s enough, Maria,” Selene said calmly. “I’ll handle it myself.”

“I can do just fine without you,” Maria chirped, and her smile widened, making her plump cheeks dimple.

“You can’t, or I wouldn’t be here,” Selene said coldly. “The Prince needs information, not a mess of wolf’s brain.”

Selene was annoyed that the Prince was indulging Maria’s sadistic tendencies, allowing her to use her gift to harm others. Maria could reach into people’s minds and read their past, causing unbearable pain. And the harder the victim resisted, the more suffering they experienced.

Maria stared at Selene for a few seconds, her short-cropped blond head cocked to one side. Then, she deliberately walked towards the exit. Greg and Thomas watched in silence from the doorway.

Selene walked over to the prisoner and squatted down in front of him. She gently lifted his head by the chin and looked up into his face.

As is often the case with immortals, it was not easy to determine his age at first glance. He could have been about forty or six hundred years old. His face, pleasant and noble, like streams of rain on glass, trickled blood from his eyes, nose and the corners of his mouth.

He was gnashing his teeth, his square jaw tense. The werewolf lifted his eyelids with an effort, and Selene’s silver gaze met the gold of his eyes. They stared at each other for a few moments, then his eyes closed again and his head fell limply on the broad chest.

Selene looked down at his cuffed hands and noticed a round gold ring on the middle finger of his right hand. It showed the Fenrir wolf leaping to swallow the sun. Without knowing why, she touched the ring, but then she pulled her hand away – it was so cold that it burned her fingers. She even thought she heard a low growl somewhere on the edge of consciousness.

As she straightened up and took another look at the captive, Selene realized that there would be no answers today.

She turned to Maria and said, not hiding her displeasure, “We’ll have to wait for him to recover. Because of you, Maria, we are wasting precious time. Good job!” and without waiting for an answer, she walked briskly away.

Chapter 5

The next morning, Selene returned to the prison cell. This time alone, without any outside observers. Leaning against the door, she calmly smoked a cigarette and looked at the prisoner. His large figure took up almost the entire space of the damp, cramped room. Broad-shouldered, tightly built, he breathed steadily, his head bowed limply. Selene assumed that he should have recovered during the night, and she was right.

The man exhaled slowly. He moved his stiff shoulders, and powerful muscles played under his white shirt. Then he lifted his head and blinked sleepily away. His gaze wandered around the cell until it landed on Selene.

“Good morning!” she said sweetly, smiling.

“I thought I was imagining you,” the man rasped in a low, deep voice that still had a sleepy edge to it.

“How are you feeling?”

“Amazing. Your doll did a good job,” the wolf replied and coughed.

Selene handed him a bottle of water, “We apologize for any inconvenience caused.”

The man unscrewed the top of the bottle as far as his shackled hands would allow, and took several gulps. Trickles trickled down his chin, partially washing away the dried blood. He emptied the bottle and tossed it aside.

“You’re here for some fun, too?” his voice was less hoarse now.

“It all depends on you. If you behave yourself, I won’t hurt you,” Selene took a drag on her cigarette. “I just need answers.”

The werewolf regarded her for a few seconds, his golden eyes narrowed thoughtfully. A slight smirk appeared on his lips, making the cleft in his chin stand out clearly.

“I am at your feet, fagr⁷,” he said, bowing his head in mock reverence.

“Fine, let’s start with a simple one,” Selene began the interrogation. “Your name?”

“Sol,” he said.

“You’re from the First Pack, right?”

The amusement in his eyes immediately faded, and he became serious.

“I’m a loner. I left the Pack a few years ago after…” he paused.

“After the previous Alpha died,” Selene finished for him.

Sol nodded, his white hair falling over his forehead as he stared at the floor. It was obvious that this topic was causing him pain.

“What were you doing here in Venice? Why didn’t you introduce yourself at court?” Selene asked.

“Surely you’ve heard that the alchemist is missing? His trail led me here.”

“Why would you want to look for him?” Selene frowned.

“Because Lucan is involved, and I want to know what he’s up to,” Sol said, his jaw tightening. “I have my own reasons for that.”

Lucan became the new Elder Alpha just a few years ago. During this time, he managed to become famous for his radical views. He opposed the principle of “the best power is invisible power” and wanted to rule openly, not hiding from mortals. He sought to enslave them. However, none of the leaders supported him, as did many of his fellow tribesmen. Alphas who did not agree with his rule were killed or exiled. Lucan surrounded himself with loyal followers, eliminating anyone who dared to cross him.

“What makes you think Lucan had anything to do with it? And why didn’t you tell us right away if your search led you to the city?” Selene asked, exhaling a stream of smoke.

“I was watching him and saw Andros brought to him. Then, the alchemist hurriedly went here. I didn’t go to see the Prince, because I wanted to make sure first that he had nothing to do with it.”

Selene was startled. To suspect the Prince is absolutely absurd. After all, Adrian had always maintained a policy of non-interference since the days of the Inquisition. He strictly forbade his subjects to reveal their true identity to people. So it seemed unlikely that he could support Lucan.

“So, are you convinced?” she asked, arching a dark brow.

“I didn’t have time,” the wolf quipped, shaking his chains. “But what I do know is that Lucan is in cahoots with Baron Victor – it was his men who brought Andros to Alpha.”

Victor. Again, the name sounded like a point-blank shot. Of course, if anyone is going to support Lucan, it will be him. He has long been looking for an opportunity to overthrow the Prince and take his place.

Selene tried not to show that she was worried, but it didn’t seem to be working.

Sol asked her, “What is it? Did the kitten run away to another owner?”

Selene understood why he called her “kitten”. The coat of arms of her former clan, Victor’s clan, was a panther.

She took the rest of her cigarette out of the holder and tossed it at wolf’s feet.

Stubbing out her cigarette with a black patent leather shoe, she said coldly before leaving, “Thank you for the interview, tesem⁸.”