12 THE ALLPRIORY

Always the scholar and absolutely a thief, Malekh had pilfered what he could of Etrienne’s notes, bound together in a thick leather journal. They had since resumed their journey, stopping for half an hour to give Remy and Lady Rotteburg time for an early supper and for Xiaodan and Lorien to help Elke hunt after the latter admitted she hadn’t taken blood in three days. Remy sat and watched Malekh as he pored through the papers he’d stolen while the hunter finished his meal of bread, smoked ham and, sadly, water.

The other vampires took turns standing guard. Speck was scanning the rest of the journals Malekh had set aside, looking like his name day had arrived early. Unlike her colleague, Wits was stretched out before the fire, more interested in its warmth than Sauveterre’s notes.

“You and Speck aren’t going to replicate that bastard’s experiments, are you?” Remy asked Malekh, receiving a glower for his temerity.

“Even had I any inclination to, little remained of his research to make any reasonable attempt.” Malekh turned a page. “Most of his notes were in code. But this is just as much a diary as it is a record of his findings, with far too many entries focusing on his supposed brilliance at achieving what others could not. It is nauseating to see all this arrogance bleeding through to the paper.”

“Don’t you ever boast of your own studies? Never written anything down where you might brag about how you saved Aluria from succumbing to the Rot or how impressive you look in spectacles?”

Another flat stare from the vampire lord. “They are not spectacles, they were crafted to protect one’s eyes from vaporous material. And I pursue learning to protect my clan and Xiaodan’s; the knowledge gained is a lesser priority.” He glanced down at the journal. “All the same, this troubles me. Elke was correct in fearing that there may be more of these bloodwoods. His works make it clear that he experimented in many regions, testing whether climate and soil variables would affect its curative properties. His notes indicate that he had even burned parts of the wood for study. There’s enough here to indicate that the creature at Meridian Keep had been another of his creations—perhaps a gift to the Second Court.”

“How could they want one of those blasted things in their backyard?”

“The Second Court was always the vainest of the kindred. If Etrienne told them it would increase their beauty or improve their youthful appearances, they would have thought little of the repercussions.” He paused. “Or, he could have planted seedlings after the Second Court’s demise, thinking to take advantage of a place where he could continue his experiments unnoticed. The latter seems more plausible.”

“I’m afraid that may be true, milord,” Speck said somberly, lifting his head. “There is not much to glean from these writings unless we can decode this cypher, of which I am doubtful. But it seems apparent to me that these experiments were not just an attempt to find immortality, but to also potentially bring one back from the dead. The creature we found within that cocoon is not quite Etrienne Sauveterre, but likely one version of him.”

“A version?”

“I cannot fathom a word to describe the process more accurately. The tree had Sauveterre’s blood running through it. The Fifth Court leader boasted that much without the need to hide it in ciphers.” Speck tapped at an entry in the journal. “It seems to me that one of his objectives was to produce a facsimile close enough in both mind and body to mimic the real thing. As it was his blood powering the experiment, it stands to reason that the thing within would attempt to be in his image.”

“Is such a thing possible?” Remy asked, aghast.

“It is difficult to verify. I do not think he succeeded, given the incomplete state of that thing we saw, but…” Speck shrugged helplessly. “All the same, this bloodwood serves the same function: to extract blood from its victims to store within itself. Yet it can also be manipulated from within its hollow to replenish another.”

“Redwald would not have tolerated such,” Lady Rotteburg proclaimed firmly. “His liege was foolish and irresponsible for the most part, but neither cruel nor malicious.” She brushed crumbs off her lap and got to her feet. “I think I shall return to the carriage. Hearing talk of what that villain has done turns my stomach.”

“My father would have found some inkling of that tree when he torched the place,” Remy said after she’d left. “The Second Court doesn’t sound like they would have been good at keeping secrets of this scale. Did Sauveterre provide anything at all in his journal?”

“ ‘Subject 2364. Skin scoured off body after twenty hours’ immersion, though vital signs remain at satisfactory levels. Psychosis observed at the tenth hour mark, with subject begging for termination at the seventeenth. Subject 0372. Ripped off own arm in an attempt to escape, required sedation. Regrowth of limb after twenty-seven hours, though not without extreme discomfort. Subject 1356. Expired at the seventh bell after eight hours of treatment. Poor natural constitution to be blamed. Subject—’ ”

“You’ve made your point,” Remy interrupted tartly, sweeping breadcrumbs off his lap. “And as vile as that bastard was, don’t you think—I mean, is there anything in that book of his that could be beneficial to us?”

“You want to know if we could use Etrienne’s experiments to help Xiaodan.”

“Don’t say you haven’t considered it yourself.”

“If the tree could restore Xiaodan to before she’d had to shoulder the burden of Lilith’s heart, then I would ask her to do so without further thought,” the lord said. “Whether or not it can accomplish such a task safely is a different story. You saw what it did to Etrienne’s own remains, if that truly was his corpse.”

“But it worked for the Night Empress,” Remy said quietly. “The tree at Meridian Keep may not have completely healed her, but she was in far better shape than we thought her to be after Elouve. Why the hell wouldn’t it work for Xiaodan?”

“That should be Xiaodan’s decision to make,” the Fourth Court heiress herself said primly, emerging from the woods with Elke and Lorien in tow. “And she has decided that the last thing she wants to be is shoved into one of those damned cocoons.”

“Malekh’s a far better scientist than Sauveterre,” Remy protested. “If there was a chance he could do it without risking your health, then surely you’d jump at the opportunity to—”

“I’ve already decided, Remy.” It wasn’t like Xiaodan to be this angry. “It’s my choice to make. You can’t sit there and pretend that Etrienne wasn’t the worthless scum he was, like something he did actually had purpose. Elke shouldn’t have to hear that.”

“Well, milady,” Elke broke in, sounding far too timid for what Remy knew her to be, “I agree with you about Etrienne, but if there was something he created out of greed that could help you or Remy or his lordship, then there would be no sweeter revenge for me than to see it be used for a better purpose.”

“There,” Remy said eagerly. “Elke is right. If Malekh could find a way to—”

“Oh, so we’ve reached a consensus as to what should be done about my body?” Xiaodan snapped. “Well, hĕn hăo!” She spun around and stomped off toward a small stream.

“Let me talk to her first,” Malekh murmured and was gone in an instant.

“Um,” Lorien said awkwardly. “I shall, ah, see if my mother needs anything.” He fled to the carriage.

“I don’t understand her,” Remy grumbled, chastened. “It doesn’t matter if it was Etrienne or the Good Mother herself who’d created those bloodwoods. She wants to be the Sunbringer again. If the easiest path to it is using the bastard’s work, then why not?”

“Etrienne nearly murdered her, Remy. You can’t tell me you wouldn’t have done the same if it was you relying on Astonbury.”

“I would have gladly kissed Astonbury’s arse if it would save Xiaodan’s.”

“But not for your own.”

Remy glared but could find no reason to rebut her words. “Barely a day since you’ve been back and you’re already spouting sense. I hate it.”

Elke chuckled. “Tell Lady Song that you’ve the right to be worried, too. You two have more in common than you think.”

Malekh returned several minutes later, and Remy took it as a good sign that he didn’t look chewed up and spat out. Xiaodan was still sitting by the stream when his turn came, having taken off her boots to swirl her feet in the flowing water. “Zidan put me straight,” she said sheepishly. “I apologize for taking out my frustrations on you.”

“Don’t. It’s been a trying day for everyone.” Remy stretched himself flat on his back on the ground. “I should have been more considerate. I know how much you hated Sauveterre.”

“It galls me still to think he’s the reason I could call forth the sun to begin with.”

“I know. But it’s your choice. You let me make my choice to accompany you here, miserable as I would have been had I stayed. I shouldn’t have pushed you.” Remy paused, staring up at the clouds. “I’ve been thinking about the way you and Malekh have let me choose to remain human.”

A soft exhale from Xiaodan. Slowly, she lay beside Remy, looking up at the sky herself. “I wasn’t sure what the right time would be to talk about that again. Would you like to now?”

“I could lose to the frenzy, come out immortal and crazed.” Remy tried to search for any signs of stars when there was a short break in between the clouds. It was easier than looking at Xiaodan.

“My mother is a mandurugo,” he said quietly. “She was likely kindred long before she ever met my father. And she married him, even knowing he was a Reaper. Maybe she really did love him. Mandurugo pass down vampirism to their descendants like it’s some damned heirloom. So maybe I never had a choice. Maybe there’s a chance that I—that I’m already a—”

Xiaodan flung an arm around his waist. “This is one promise I can make,” she said. “If Malekh can find a way to use Sauveterre’s experiments to make me better with minimal risk, then I’ll at least consider it. You’re both right. The man can’t harm anyone else, and if something of his work can be salvaged to solve my predicament, then it would be stubborn not to try. Does that sound reasonable?”

“It does.”

“Good.” She leaned up and kissed his neck. “In exchange, I want you to believe us when we say we don’t care if you choose to be kindred or human, and that that choice doesn’t affect how we feel about you. Malekh will find a way to exorcise any remotely vampiric blood out of you if it comes down to it, you know he will. Every test he’s conducted on you so far proves you’re no kindred. You could be worrying over nothing.”

“But won’t you resent me if I—”

“There is no ultimatum with us. We want you however you choose to be with us, whoever you are and will be.” She grinned and reached up to ruffle playfully at his hair. “So. Has Zidan figured out how long I have to stay inside one of those awful trees yet?”

---

HE’D FORGOTTEN about his dreams, the dangers there.

They were to reach the Allpriory in the next hour, and everyone was on edge. Malekh and Speck pored through Sauveterre’s notes constantly, though there was little else to glean from them, as the Summer Lord himself admitted. Xiaodan was a bundle of nervous energy, flitting from tree branch to clearing to half a mile out from camp and back again, keeping watch for mutations and vampires too selfish to show themselves and provide her with distraction. Elke inspected Remy’s Breaker with the same intensity and zeal that Malekh was applying to the Fifth Court journal. Shiragiku, Aunoir, and Diethnir had started sparring with one another, placing friendly wagers on who would come out on top. Worn out from their time at Dracheholm, Remy resorted to a quick nap to conserve his strength while the others worked off their agitation in their own ways.

Except when he opened his eyes again, it was daylight, and he was at his mother’s tombstone, shovel in one hand and the open ground before him. The casket lid had already been tossed aside. Remy stared down into the coffin, heart pounding.

He’d dug up his mother’s grave before he’d left Elouve. Had wanted to make sure. The coffin had been empty then.

This time, it was not.

She could have been sleeping. Her arms were crossed on her chest, expression placid and peaceful, eyes closed. There was no dirt to mar her face, none muddying the lace and silks she wore, buried in her best clothes as was Alurian tradition. If she’d been laying inside her tomb these twenty-three years past, she showed no ounce of decay to prove it.

There was nothing Alurian or traditional about the wings folded around her, protruding out of her back; black and leatherlike, a second pair tucked just below the first.

The Night Empress’s eyes opened. She did not move, only watched him. He could sense no aggression from her, no indication that she would attack.

“Why?” he asked.

The Night Empress sighed; her wings shifted. My dear, she said.

And then it was nighttime. The grave was freshly filled, and Remy held no shovel. It was still his mother’s tomb; LIGAYA BASCOM PENDERGAST, BELOVED WIFE AND MOTHER a familiar sign etched into the stone, and there were the sounds of digging, of scratching, though Remy was alone and doing shit-all.

The ground before him moved, dirt and soil breaking apart, and Ligaya Pendergast crawled out of her own grave, tears and grime in equal tracks down her cheeks. Her mouth opened and closed, taking in gulps of the cold air while fangs protruded from her lips. Her wings were slick, shiny with some peculiar substance, and they beat erratically against her back, as if they were new to her body and controlling them was a struggle. Because it was clear from the expression on her face, the way she lifted her dress and stared down, horrified, at the hole in her stomach slowly closing up on its own, flesh and muscles there knitting back together at a rapid rate, that this was all new to her in terrifying ways.

Her hands pressed against her now-healed belly, trying to find something there that no longer was.

Her baby, Remy thought, stunned.

Ligaya began to weep.

“You didn’t know, either.” Remy whispered, petrified where he stood. His mother hadn’t known until she’d literally crawled her way out of her own grave.

The scenery changed. They were beside a lake now, though Ligaya remained kneeling, her hands still pressed protectively against her stomach.

I was changing, Ligaya said. I was pregnant with you, and I was changing. My family used to tell me stories—a strange, fantastical history of our people, of how they once ruled Wikaan. I never believed it. When I became babaylan of my village, we held a ritual. I thought naught of it but a formality then. But when I lived in Elouve, they came for me. Told me what I truly was. How I was changing. I was frightened. She placed a hand at her belly. They said they could help me. Edgar—he drew away from me. If he knew I was kindred, he would… I couldn’t tell him. The Alurians would kill me, kill us. He would kill me. But they said they could help me, and then…

Ligaya lifted her head, eyes red. And now they will all die.

And Remy was being unceremoniously shaken awake, Xiaodan looking panicked above him. “Attack?” he mumbled blearily, still half-asleep. He reached blindly for Reaper.

“No,” Xiaodan breathed. “But I could feel her. Did she hurt you?”

“I… no.” Things were coming back into focus. The woods around them, their small encampment. Images of his mother remained in his mind’s eye; weeping, crawling out from her grave.

Remy licked his dry lips. “I need to ask Malekh something.”

Just as he’d thought, the man refused. “It’s dangerous enough to have her infiltrating your mind, even when you expect her to. There’s no telling what may happen if you attempt to invade hers.”

“That’s the point. She’s not doing it deliberately. She’s never been able to in the past unless she was in greater proximity to me, and she’s even weaker now. I think she only wants to reach out to me to tell me something.” Remy sighed. “She was on a lake. I don’t recognize the place. She was standing by the shore, looking out into its center. Maybe we can use this to pinpoint where she is before she can attack.”

“Describe this lake to me.”

Remy frowned. “I remember seeing mountains from a distance. Four, I think.”

“All perfectly round, save for the last?”

“Yes, now that you mentioned it. How did you—”

“You are to always take my tinctures before sleeping. You are not to contact her again for any reason. I will continue to monitor you once we are at the Allpriory, and should you suffer from any more of these dreams, you are to tell us in as much detail as you can.”

Remy scowled at him.

Malekh gentled his tone. “I understand the need you feel to reestablish a connection with your mother, however changed she is now. But until we are certain of her intentions, it is only prudent to implement standard precautions.” The mask slipped briefly from the vampire lord’s face before hardening again. “I have no wish to lose you, Pendergast.”

“I’m not—” Remy hesitated. “I don’t want her to get at you or Xiaodan through me,” he admitted gruffly.

“She won’t.”

“How did you even know about the lake?”

Malekh sighed and rubbed his face. “You’ll see when we arrive. Fanglei was right, as much as I detest it. There are more reasons now for the Night Empress to claim the Allpriory, and you are one of them.”

---

REMY HADN’T quite understood until they’d arrived at the temple, was disappointed when Malekh reined in his helhest and announced that they had arrived, though there was no castle to be seen.

They were standing on another lake, this one wider than the ones surrounding the Morgana. It was pretty enough, but Remy didn’t think it resembled a vampire lair.

“I was imagining something a little more ostentatious,” Elke said.

“It is.” Malekh had alighted from Cookie and was staring hard at the water. “Does it look familiar to you, Pendergast?”

Remy glanced around. There were four mountains in the distance, three as round, as he’d seen in his dream.

“Can either of you sense her anywhere nearby?” Speck asked nervously.

“That’s not how it works,” Remy said. “I only know where she is when I’m bloody asleep.”

“I don’t know if she can hide from me,” Xiaodan said, “but there’s nothing of her here that I can detect.”

“Even so, stay alert,” Malekh said. “Prepare for a short swim.”

“A short swim?” Remy echoed.

“The Allpriory lies beneath the lake.”

So maybe his previous assessment about vampires and water were wrong. “Beneath? But that’s impossible.” The lake appeared over a thousand feet deep from his vantage point.

“It does make for a clever hiding spot.” Xiaodan stopped at the water’s edge and crouched down. Remy followed.

The water was clear enough to see the shore dropping off abruptly, the embankment ending in a deep plunge into waiting darkness. “This could be a problem,” he said uneasily. “I can swim, but not that far down.”

“You won’t need to,” Malekh said. “I want the rest of you following my lead and staying close.”

“And what of me?”

“How long can you hold your breath?”

“I can guarantee two minutes. Three or more, if I’m not panicking. Shall I have reason to panic?”

Malekh whistled. Obediently, the helhests tore away, disappearing with surprising speed. “They’ll return to the Morgana. The Allpriory should be secure enough that they’ll be nothing but targets here.” He grabbed Remy by his coat. “Do you trust me?”

Remy gulped. “I do, but I wish it didn’t involve this.”

Malekh cracked a quick smile, leaned in close, and kissed him abruptly. “Deep breath,” he whispered against his mouth and, just as Remy took in a lungful of air, turned and threw them both into the lake.

It was good to be given some warning, because Remy would have started screaming the instant his head hit the water. The vampire lord was just as fast as he was on land, and all Remy could see, thankfully, were bubbles and blurs as the man swam deeper down, an arm anchored securely around his waist. Remy squeezed his eyes shut and let his body grow slack, the rushing loud to his ears. His lungs felt fit to bursting, and he was starting to feel light-headed…

And then they broke through the surface, Remy gulping in noisy pockets of air as Malekh dragged them back to shore, releasing him. Remy fell to his knees, shivering but glad to be on solid ground. “I needed more warning than just deep breath, you bastard,” he wheezed, and looked around.

But instead of cloudy skies, he saw nothing but stone around them. They were in a cave, and a massive one. The ceiling was easily several hundred feet high, and there were torches affixed at points along a wide passageway before them lighting the stone path. Despite the roughly hewn rock walls, the ground had been paved, a startling detail not in keeping with their surroundings.

“Right, of course it’s a cave,” Remy muttered. Malekh had warned him, but that didn’t make it feel any better. Even if the immense expanse of it helped ease his fears, he kept his gaze averted from the ceiling, not wanting to witness all that rock looking back down at him.

Xiaodan and Elke were wading to shore, both in better shape than Remy. Xiaodan was as wide-eyed as a young girl at a country fair for the first time. “You said only the strongest could become part of his court,” she said. “Entering his temple—even that was a test to prove their worth?”

“In the court’s heyday, there would be traps set along these paths, altered and repositioned according to the Night King’s whims so that no kindred went through the same obstacles in the same week. Returning to his court meant running through a dangerous gauntlet each time. He took pleasure in winnowing the weak from his ranks.” Malekh was staring at the cave’s entrance. “It’s no use for you to hide,” he said.

Something moved within the darkness, and several figures emerged—eight in number. They wore white cowls that obscured their faces, and their robes were simple and homespun. They carried no visible weapons, but the sight of them sent Remy scrabbling for Breaker all the same.

“We come in peace, exalted Hierarch,” one of the approaching figures called out, pushing their hood off their shoulders. It was a woman with dark eyes and hair, youthful in appearance still, though her voice was a deep and strident timber of one who was far older. “We are the Antecedents, a branch of the Fourth, and I am Isabella, Priestess to the Flame. We are pleased to welcome you to our sanctuary, Hierarch. The others have already arrived and are waiting.”

“Why do they keep calling Lord Malekh Hierarch?” Elke whispered to Remy.

“Because they want him to take over the Night Court,” he answered grimly, watching the way Malekh’s shoulders stiffened further each time the strangers called him by that title.

Two more of the hooded figures stepped forward, holding out clean linen. “I see that you have at least one human in your retinue, exalted—”

“I am no one’s exalted,” Malekh bit out, having had enough.

“Very well, milord,” said the woman diplomatically. “Come and dry yourselves. A fresh set of clothes will be waiting for all of you in your respective chambers, as will refreshments and food. Let us make haste. The caves are drafty, and it will be better to bring you somewhere warmer, lest the humans catch their chill.”

One of the cowled folk took down a torch from the wall, illuminating the path as the group wearily followed their new hosts. Remy was tense, still convinced that this was a trap, his anxiety amplified by the stone walls.

He hated caves. Fucking hated them. But he’d gone through them before for Malekh’s and Xiaodan’s sake, and he’d go through even more for them now. The trick was not to think about how the walls closed in on him, about the way they towered over his head like they could collapse at any second, burying him underneath.

He bit down on his lower lip until it started to hurt, and only then did he note Malekh’s protective hand on his back, Xiaodan slipping hers into his left, and Elke hovering close by his right. “It’s nothing,” he muttered, embarrassed.

“We know,” Elke said. “But we’re here anyway.”

The cavern passage gave way to one even more expansive, and Remy nearly tripped over a loose stone when he finally beheld their destination.

He was wrong again. The Night Court did have its own castle, carved out of stone and built directly out of the walls. It was taller than either Chànggē Shuĭ or the Fata Morgana, possessed more towers than Meridian Keep and Dracheholm combined. Parts of the fortress glittered at them, though not because of the torches lighting up the fortress from within.

“Are some sections of this castle constructed out of jewels?” Elke sounded delighted. “The gemstones on those turrets alone could fund Aluria for decades.”

“Will I have to prevent you from prying out those stones when our hosts are looking elsewhere?” Remy murmured.

“Why Remy, how dare you! I was hoping you would serve as my lookout while I made the attempt. Surely they can spare one or two or five hundred.”

There were more hooded figures lining the path leading into the castle. All bowed low as Malekh passed, and the vampire looked distinctly discomfited.

The interior of the Allpriory was just as ostentatious. Jewels of every size and shape shone, embedded in intricate patterns on the stone walls. Some had been used to pave the ground, giving it a sleek, marble-like smoothness. Elke’s fingers twitched every time they passed yet another unnecessarily luxurious display of wealth.

The temple boasted of no tapestries, but there were murals, many large enough to cover the wall from ceiling to floor. There were scenes of a court in session, with a tall dark shadow presiding over cowering people, and Remy took it to mean the Night Court in its heyday. Others depicted battles, of people being enslaved and carted away while above them that same shadow, sword extended over the villages and towns it had conquered. Another shadow, this time sporting six sets of black wings, was painted emerging from some great inferno behind it, kindred prostrating at its feet.

“The First Who Walks in the Night,” Xiaodan explained quietly.

Malekh had no eyes for the decor, or for the impressiveness of the palace. As they entered the grand hall, his gaze was riveted on the empty throne elevated on a dais, obviously designed to be the room’s crowning glory. He stood before it and stared for the longest time, his eyes as hard as the diamonds covering its armrests.

Remy understood, and so did Xiaodan. They stood on either side of him, looking at where the Night King had once reigned, and all the misery he’d inflicted since. Malekh remained impassive, like the man had not once knelt before that same throne as a slave and an executioner for the deceased vampire king.

“Let’s go,” he finally said, nothing in his voice giving any of what he felt away.