Somewhere beneath Triah
THE LOCK CLICKED, AND Astrid bolted upright, ready to make another attempt at fighting her way out. But just before the door began to creak open, a voice echoed in her mind, calm and sonorous.
It is just me, child. Do not try to escape. You would stand a better chance against Igar and every other vampire beneath Triah combined than you would against me.
Astrid relaxed, although she had the fleeting thought that Eldritch might have something to do with causing her to relax, and didn’t particularly relish the idea.
The door to her cell opened, and Eldritch entered. Instinctively, Astrid took a step back. The tiellan vampire was levitating, but this time instead of floating in a seated position, she was upright, one leg slightly bent beneath her. She did not wear the dress she had worn in the throne room. Instead, she wore simple, loose-fitting trousers and a pristine white blouse. Her feet were bare, her short silvery hair spiky around her pointed ears.
The door to Astrid’s cell closed, and they were alone.
“What are you doing here?” Astrid asked. She still felt unnaturally calm, but she had not survived for a couple hundred years without learning to recognize danger in just about any circumstance. Tranquility and danger could coexist, and they certainly did here.
You have piqued my interest, and I wanted to have a discussion with you, if you’ll allow it.
“Is it really my choice?” Astrid asked.
Of course it is. Eldritch’s tone was surprised. I will not force anything on you, child. I am nowhere near the stickler that Equity is about thresholds and what have you. You were not allowed a voice during the hearing, and I was willing to respect that rule. But there is no reason to ignore such an interesting specimen just because she is not yet old enough.
Specimen. Well, at least Astrid knew where she stood with Eldritch.
“Can you tell me more about all this?” Astrid asked.
What would you like to know?
“Where am I?”
Beneath Triah. A series of ancient tunnels and chambers exist beneath the city, and our order has taken them over. For the most part. We had to give up some of our jurisdiction years ago when the Nazaniin dug out their ridiculous underground lair, but that was a price we were willing to pay for privacy.
Astrid thought about that for a moment. She had run for radials through these tunnels, and Igar had carried her for almost that distance, too. She wondered whether the tunnel network webbed beneath the entire city, or just certain parts.
“Who are you?”
Eldritch’s blue eyes glowed even brighter, though she remained otherwise unsettlingly motionless, only the slightest shift in air rippling her clothing or through her hair. I am the eldest member of the Coven, she said. I have existed since the dawn of time, and will exist until its end.
A lofty claim, but Astrid wondered whether it was remotely true. “You’ve existed since the dawn of time, and you still look like that?” Astrid asked.
Eldritch’s smile broadened, but she did not answer the question. You are astute, child. I like that. When you do cross the threshold, I might even think of taking you on as my personal ward. Clearly it would be something of a battle with Cabral, but I believe he would see things my way in the end. I only hope he doesn’t ruin you before then.
“Were you always a vampire? If you are the eldest, you must have been the first. Were you ever a tiellan? How did you become a vampire?”
Eldritch’s smile faded, and her eyes dimmed a little. That is a very sad story, for another time, perhaps.
“Can you at least tell me how you are doing what you are doing?” Astrid asked. “Speaking in my mind, and… levitating?”
Eldritch’s eyes brightened again; the sadness left her face. I suppose there is no harm in telling you now. Your threshold is not that far, after all.
“I thought you did not care for this concept of a threshold,” Astrid said.
I never said that, child. But I do find it overly strict at times. And, being who I am, I can bend the rules when I see a good reason for it.
What is your good reason here? Astrid wanted to ask, but she kept the question to herself. This woman said she was intrigued by Astrid, but Astrid had decided she could take nothing this woman said at face value.
Each member of the Coven has developed abilities, over time, Eldritch said. While Equity rarely has reason to demonstrate his, he has generated control over certain elements. And, of course, you have already seen what Elegance can do.
“She can make people see things,” Astrid said. “Alter their minds… and their sifts? Is what Cabral asked you to do to me possible?”
There is very little that is not possible between the three of us. Eldritch spoke without hubris. Had we agreed with Cabral’s punishment, we could have done as he asked.
Astrid suppressed an involuntary shiver. They would have altered her mind. They would have invaded and changed everything that made her her. The anger she had felt in the throne room returned, a slow-burning smolder.
The Black Matron had messed with her mind enough. She would die before she let anyone do that to her again.
“You and Elegance have the same powers, then?” Astrid asked.
No, child. Our abilities could not be more different, though they might seem similar to the uneducated. Elegance has mastered the art of illusion. She can make anyone see what she wants them to see, and for that person, the illusion Elegance gives them is reality. They would never know the difference, unless Elegance chose to show it to them.
I, on the other hand, deal in the art of perception. I can discern people’s thoughts. I can create psychic links with them, speak to their minds.
“You’re an acumen?” Astrid asked.
Eldritch’s laughter chimed in Astrid’s mind, though the woman’s face remained unchangingly calm.
Of course not, child. I am infinitely beyond even the most powerful acumen you could imagine.
Astrid pursed her lips. “You can float, too,” she said eventually. “I don’t know many acumens that can do that.”
Do you know any that can float?
“A figure of speech. I’m just saying that you’re right, you can float and acumens can’t. Um… speaking of floating, though. How?”
Perception goes far deeper than discerning thoughts and feelings. I can observe the sky and air and tell you what temperature it will be and exactly what weather we will have ten years from now. I can discern the same patterns in human behavior, and tell you quite accurately which nation will lead the Sfaera a hundred years from now, or a thousand. And I can look into the qualities that make the earth and the air what they are, and manipulate them to do my bidding.
Surely this was more posturing. Surely Eldritch could not actually do the things she claimed. And yet, unlike the sprout of suspicion she’d felt when Eldritch had told her her age, Astrid felt none of that now.
Now, she only felt awe.
“These powers,” Astrid said slowly, “where did they come from? How did you get them?”
Being a vampire is about more than blood and strength, child, although precious few of our kind ever realize this truth. Any vampire, given enough time and will, can develop powers such as mine. Some manifest them earlier than others, but they all develop them, and those powers increase over time.
In a few hundred years, I am afraid Cabral is right, child. You will have forgotten all about the friends you have now, all the connections you have made. None of that will matter. You will be just beginning to understand what it means to be immortal.
If you survive that long, and with the right tutelage, in a few thousand years you will begin to experience what it means to have true power. You will begin to learn what it means to be a goddess.
“You’re saying I could have powers like you?” Astrid asked.
Or Elegance, or Equity. Or Igar. All you need—
“Wait,” Astrid said. “Igar has powers, too? The big vampire?” There was a connection there, something she was missing.
Of course he does, child. You cannot possibly think that a person that exquisitely muscular could exist without supernatural aid.
“Canta’s bloody bones,” Astrid muttered, “how strong is he?”
Eldritch’s laugh rippled again through Astrid’s mind. Stronger than you could imagine. Igar is one of the youngest to manifest powers, at only nine hundred years old. He grows stronger by the decade.
Astrid finally gained the courage to ask the question she had been dreading. “And… what about Cabral? What powers does he have?”
Cabral has yet to manifest any powers. That is not atypical for one of his age, however. Cabral is around fifteen hundred years old, if I remember correctly. If a vampire begins to manifest an ability, it usually happens closer to their two thousandth year. Igar is unusual.
“Have I met any other vampires with abilities?” Astrid asked.
Eldritch’s blue eyes smoldered as she looked at Astrid for a moment. Astrid had the uncomfortable sensation that whatever Eldritch claimed to do with the weather and with civilizations she was now doing with Astrid, but on an individual level.
No, Eldritch said after a moment. You have not met any other vampires who have manifested abilities.
Realization clicked in Astrid’s mind. The connection she’d missed suddenly appeared.
“Your eyes,” she said. Blue, yellow, and violet in the Coven. Igar’s orange tint. “There’s a connection between power and eye color, isn’t there?”
There is a correlation, child. We do not know much beyond that, but yes. There is something there.
“Then… what does that mean for me?”
Eldritch’s smile broadened, and her eyes lit so brightly that Astrid’s entire cell took on a brilliant blue hue. Long shadows cast by chunks of stone and mounds of dirt stretched away from Eldritch’s presence.
I have no idea. That is precisely why you interest me so. Most vampires experience a change in eye shade after many hundreds of years. It is… unusual for one as young as you—speaking of your actual age, of course, and not the age of your body when it turned—to have eyes that are not red.
“So you think I might manifest some kind of power?”
I think it sensible to speculate that the Sfaera has great things planned for you.
Astrid crushed the glint of excitement that sparked within her. She was no one special. She had proven her inadequacy time and time again. She had nothing to offer the Sfaera. And her friends lived in the here and now; even if Eldritch was right, even if there was a possibility that, thousands of years in the future, Astrid could manifest some wondrous ability, what did it matter?
All that mattered was what she did now.
Which brought her to her next question. “What do you know of the Nine Daemons?”
Eldritch’s smile faltered. What do you care about the Nine Daemons? Bedtime stories, told to scare children into obeying their parents.
Astrid laughed out loud at that. “Please, Eldritch. Don’t play me for a fool. If you really can do what you say, you’ll be aware the Nine have infiltrated the Sfaera, that they are attempting to return in their full forms.”
I may have felt some disturbances.
Astrid scoffed. “Disturbances. And that means nothing to you?”
I have my reasons for waiting.
“Please don’t tell me you think they’ll actually ally with you,” Astrid said. “You cannot possibly be that stupid.”
Do not try my patience. If my anger eclipses my curiosity, you will not last long.
“None of us will be long for this world if the Nine get what they want.”
I have outlasted dynasties, religions, and the Khalic Novennium. I will survive this, too.
“You might,” Astrid said. “But the rest of the world won’t. What good will the Sfaera be to you when everything else is gone?”
You think you can convince me to fight the Nine Daemons? I will adapt and change, as I always do. You would do well to learn from me, child. You could live long enough to see things my way, if you chose to do so. I see that strength in you.
You fear the Nine Daemons, and for good reason. But… history is not at all clear on their purpose. Things are not always as they seem.
“I’m sure I have a great deal to learn from you,” Astrid said. “But I don’t care about being around long enough to learn it. Not if everything else is gone.”
Very well. The cell door behind Eldritch opened, and she floated gently out of the cell.
A moment of panic struck Astrid, and she rushed forward. “Wait!” she cried, but the heavy door closed in her face, leaving her once again in darkness.