Odenite Camp, East of Triah
AS THE SUN CREPT lower on the horizon, the camp lit up with the friendly glow of cooking fires, and people bustled from one to the other exchanging meals and stories. Astrid sat alone at one of the fires with her feet up, sharpening a dagger. The slow slide of the whetstone against the blade soothed her. She felt the graininess of each movement, the way the vibrations moved up her arm, and she lost herself in the motion until a voice brought her out of it.
“Hello there.”
Astrid looked up to find a family of five standing at her fire. The children watched her wide-eyed with awe; the father had a simple grin on his face.
“Astrid, is it?” the father went on. “I have heard much about you.”
Astrid focused on sharpening her blade. She made no effort to hide her frown. The Odenites had started to recognize her more, lately. While she had to imagine most of them suspected something strange about her—a girl of nine or so, occupied with fighting and sharpening weapons was far from normal— there had yet to be any talk of vampires, thankfully. She had been around people she thought would accept her before, when they found out. It almost never ended well. Knot, Cinzia, and even Jane, to a lesser extent, were rare exceptions to the rule.
“Well, I hope you don’t mind if my family and I join you.” He sat down at the fire, and Astrid’s head snapped up, a scowl on her face.
“I am Jusef,” he said, still smiling at her. Idiot.
She ignored his outstretched hand, but Jusef seemed not to mind. He nodded to the woman with him, then to his children— two boys and a girl. “This is Umia. And these are our children, Daves, Jonef, and Hild. Hild is about your age, I think.”
Hild was actually taller than Astrid by just a bit, but the man was right: she looked to be in her ninth summer, give or take. The girl smiled at Astrid shyly.
Astrid turned back to sharpening her dagger without a word. She was vaguely aware of Jusef and Umia exchanging a glance. But instead of speaking further, Umia sat down near Astrid and pulled out an item of clothing that needed mending. She quietly worked on the garment, head down, while her husband prepared food for their children.
Astrid stopped the movement of the whetstone. Her dagger would be sharp enough, now, and the sun was getting low.
“What do you think you’re doing?” Astrid asked.
Umia didn’t look up from her sewing. “Warming ourselves by your fire,” she said quietly.
“Out of all the fires in the camp, you choose mine?” Astrid asked. “That either makes you stupid, or…” Or you have some other agenda. Astrid doubted it was the latter; this family seemed just strange enough to be normal. If these two adults had brought children along with something nefarious in mind, Astrid was quite capable of tearing them to pieces. But she did not get that impression. Jusef was helping Hild hold a frying pan over the fire. The little girl was smiling, her father’s hand on her back. Astrid immediately looked away.
“Jusef is not the brightest star in the sky, I’ll admit that.” The woman glanced at her husband with an affectionate grin, and Astrid had to stop herself from giggling.
Jusef scoffed from across the fire. “Least you could do is save that kind of talk until the children are asleep.” But there was a smile on his face, too, and the children giggled as he said it, and Astrid hated the way this family made her feel at ease.
“But I don’t see how we are stupid for sitting with you,” Umia continued. “We are grateful for all you have done for us. We watched you lead the Prelates at Harmoth; we saw you fight those monsters that attacked outside of Kirlan. You saved Jusef’s life, that night. He was by the central fire when it happened.”
Astrid had heard enough. She hadn’t done any of those things for the praise of mortals. Umia’s words only made her more uncomfortable.
Astrid felt Umia’s hand on her shoulder. “Look, we know you aren’t like other children. But we want to say that… whatever it is about you, whatever is different, that’s all right. I’m grateful for it, actually. We wouldn’t be here without you.”
If you knew I’d kill you and eat you as soon as look at you, I don’t think you’d feel the same way.
Astrid shrugged out of the woman’s touch.
“I’m not doing this,” was all she said. She got up and left.
* * *
Back in the tent she shared with Knot, Astrid wished, again, that he had taken her to Triah with him. But the People’s Parliament had given leave for only specific Odenites to enter the city, and Astrid was not among them. Any attempt to get a nine-year-old girl on such a list would be met with high suspicion, at best.
But still. She was bored.
Not to mention the fact that Cinzia and Jane had already returned. She had stopped by their tent to check, now that the sun had set. Astrid had half a mind to sneak into the city on her own—easily done at night—and find out exactly what Knot was up to, alone in the city, but she had refrained. Knot could take care of himself.
That didn’t make the waiting any easier, though.
Finally, Astrid heard movement outside her tent.
“About time, nomad,” she muttered. She jumped up, but froze the moment her tent flap opened.
Eerie red light poured into the small tent. Astrid frowned. “Trave, you need to be less sneaky about visiting me. I might accidentally kill you one of these days.”
But the tall figure that stepped into her tent was not Trave. Instead, in the dim light of the single candle that lit her tent, strode Olin Cabral. He’d cut his blonde hair short once again, but his tall, muscular build, and abnormal beauty—the hard lines of his jaw and the way his skin seemed to glow—gave him away.
Astrid instinctively took a step back. Her mind raced through her options. She could tear through the back of her tent if she needed to. But that might slow her down too much, and Cabral was faster than her. And if he chased her through the camp itself, even if the Odenites wanted to help her, there was not much they could do to help against a vampire like Cabral. He was far too strong and too fast for any of them, especially at night. Cabral probably wanted Astrid to run. He would love to kill a few others in addition to killing her.
“Cabral,” Astrid said, taking the only option that seemed reasonable in the moment, “what brings you to my humble tent?”
Cabral smiled, but his eyes remained the same: dead red lights, staring straight at her. “You, my dear Astrid,” Cabral said, his voice low. “I’d like to say I’ve missed you, but… well, the truth is I’ve been rather peeved. The attack that you and that castrated fool Trave perpetrated on my tower-house was most unwelcome. Some way to show your gratitude for all I have done for you both.”
Cabral might be alone. Astrid and Trave had killed his latest crop of Fangs, but a vampire like Cabral always had more followers. He could have gathered them to make his approach to her, if he did not want to take any chances. Outside of her tent, Astrid heard nothing.
She hoped Knot would not return for some time. He could not help her in a fight against full vampires at night; no one in the Odenite camp could, with the exception of Jane if she was filled to the brim with Canta’s power, or Cinzia, if Luceraf chose to empower her with strength again. But their powers were unreliable. Astrid was on her own. Even Trave, who was in the camp somewhere, could not stand against Cabral. Astrid had seen him try, and fail, too many times.
“What do you want?” Astrid asked again.
Cabral stared at her, unmoving. “Isn’t it obvious? I want you, Astrid.”
Astrid shook her head. “There are powerful people in this camp. People who could defeat even you.”
“Even if I did believe you,” Cabral said, “how would such people discover me? Your camp has no real defenses. Sneaking into it was as simple a thing as I’ve ever done. No, my dear Astrid, I don’t believe anyone will come for you.” He shrugged. “And if someone does, I’ll just kill them.”
He lunged at her, and Astrid shot away. At night, she could run many times faster than a human, and she tore through the cloth at the back of the tent easily with her claws. She burst out into the night, her green eyes glowing—and something rammed into her from the side.
Astrid tumbled into the dirt, rolling a dozen rods, miraculously missing the tents around hers.
Don’t wake up, Astrid pled to the unsuspecting Odenites, all likely sleeping around her. Don’t come out to see what is happening.
As she got to her feet, the form that had tackled her rose, too, its eyes glowing red. This one was tall, taller than most humans or vampires Astrid had seen, and thin, its limbs long and wiry. Her heart sank. If Cabral had been alone, she might’ve had the smallest chance of escaping him.
Another red glow appeared over her shoulder. She turned too slowly, and a blow knocked her to the ground. “You’re coming with us, Astrid,” she heard Cabral say, as if from far away. “Do us a favor, and come without a fight.” As she struggled to lift her head, another blow fell, and she sank into blackness.