WHEN I RAN RIGHT, MAG went left. She sped through into the second room with the secret entrance to the underground chamber. Half of it was aflame, and the smoke was thick and black.

And there she found the vampires—Shoulders and King, the only two left.

For a heartbeat, the creatures did not seem to notice her. Both were screaming and tearing at the floor, but their claws did not so much as scratch it. That was strange, but Mag had no time to think about it. The creatures noticed her, and they wheeled around to attack.

She fought only two now, not the three she had faced outside. But the room’s small size constrained her. As she dodged and turned, her cloak kept striking the walls and furniture. Pushing the vampires back with a wild swipe, Mag reached up with her shield and undid the clasp. The cloak fell to the floor. That was better, but not enough to give her the advantage. Her spear strikes had to be somewhat restrained, or she risked striking the walls and knocking herself off balance.

Mag switched her strategy, pressing in closer and using the spear more as a staff. It brought her within reach of the vampires’ claws, and she had to block them both with the spear haft and the shield. But with a clever twist, she managed a solid kick into Shoulders’ chest. 

Shoulders flew away, tumbling over the back of a chair that had caught on fire. The flames erupted across the vampire’s skin almost instantly, and it shrieked and tried to bat at them even as its back slammed into the tapestry on the wall.

The vampire was so busy with the flames, it did not see Mag launch herself through the air. Her spear impaled it through the chest and sank deep into the wall behind. The wood and flames spread through Shoulders together, and it died with black blood dribbling from its jaws.

Too late, Mag realized that she had punched a hole straight through the door that led to the underground chamber. She turned, wrenching her spear from the wall and the corpse. King stood there in the center of the room, its head back, sniffing at the air.

It turned on her, its black eyes narrowing to slits.

Mag tried to spear it as it flew through the air towards her, but it caught the spear in one hand and threw her aside with the other. Its claws sank into the wooden wall, and it ripped the door from its hinges, throwing it into the flames on the other side of the room. With a rending screech, it vanished into the shadows of the stairwell.

Yue and I burst into the room just as Mag was getting to her feet. Yue had one arm over my shoulders, and her other hand held the wound near her neck. Oku whined as he ran to Mag and licked her hand.

“One left,” said Mag. “It got in.”

She wasted no more words, but ran down the stairwell after the thing. Oku gave a bark and ran after her.

“Leave it, Mag!” I cried. “Let the flames finish it!”

“A little late for that,” growled Yue.

“Dark take her,” I mumbled. “I will get you to the front and then get her out of the cavern.”

“No time,” said Yue. “I am coming. You both came in here for me.” She pushed off of me and drew her short sword in one hand, hefting her cudgel in the other. 

“We have no time to argue, but let us pretend I did,” I told her. “Come, if you cannot be stopped.”

Just inside the doorway was a torch on the wall. I took it and lit it from the flames at the edge of the room before running down the stairs, Yue just behind me. We reached the bottom to see Mag and Oku locked in combat with King. But its proximity to the magestone-infused blood seemed to have given the creature a new surge of strength. Even as I tried to work out how to enter the fight, it sent Oku flying with a kick and swiped at Mag so savagely that she was forced several steps back.

Before any of us could react, the vampire rushed to the cauldron and stooped over the side, plunging its face into the blood.

We all watched, struck dumb and paralyzed with horror, as King threw its head back and roared. The roar turned deep, guttural, until I could feel it shaking and vibrating within my chest. The vampire’s pallid skin began to darken, a deep crimson spreading through it as long-dry veins refilled. The red suffused all of its body from top to bottom, and the skin rippled as bones shifted and rearranged themselves beneath. Then the creature shrieked, and my heart leaped, for it sounded like a cry of pain. But then ridges of bone sprang out through the skin, running down its back and arms, with huge spikes protruding from the elbows. All the while, the vampire’s body continued to grow, until it stood now at least three heads taller than me, even hunched over as it was.

Yue and I were frozen in horror, but Mag had kept her wits about her. As the transformation neared completion, Mag brought back her arm and heaved her spear straight into King’s now-massive back.

King whirled and held up a hand. It did not catch the spear. It let the weapon pass straight through its flesh. The spear shuddered to a stop halfway through the claw, its wood coming to rest deep in the vampire’s flesh.

The vampire scowled down at the wound. Then it dragged the spear the rest of the way through and flung it, contemptuously, at Mag’s feet.

For a heartbeat we hesitated, waiting for the wood to poison the vampire, to send it cowering to its knees.

Nothing happened, except that the hole in the vampire’s hand began to seal itself shut.

“Dark take it,” muttered Mag. She stooped to pick up her spear, ignoring the black blood that coated its length.

“This was the aim of the ritual,” I said. “The documents spoke of strengthening the vampires somehow.”

“How do we kill it?” said Yue. “I thought wood was poison to these things.”

“It used to be,” said Mag. “Mayhap fire will still do the trick.”

“We could retreat,” said Yue. “The building is burning. This thing will burn with it.”

I looked at King. It had stooped over the cauldron again to take another deep draught. “This chamber will not burn. The floorboards are enchanted. And even if it begins to, I think the creature will burst out before it perishes.”

As if King could understand my words, its head snapped up towards the ceiling for a moment. Slowly it turned its gaze upon us. Black eyes shone with hate.

“I think it heard you,” Yue pointed out mildly. 

“I have my torch,” I muttered. “If I can get an opening, I can throw it at the vampire, and we will hope it catches.”

“Yue should get one, too, and quickly,” said Mag. King had begun to stalk closer.

Yue pulled a torch from the wall and lit it with the flames of mine. “Spread out,” I said.

I edged right, Yue left, and Mag stood in the middle with Oku. King, seeing us split up, stopped moving, crouched low, and swiveled its head back and forth to keep an eye on all of us.

“Do it as soon as you can,” said Mag suddenly, and then she threw herself at the vampire. Oku was only a half-pace behind.

They danced around each other in the center of the room. But Mag could no longer hold her own against the thing. Whereas before she had held against the vampires’ strength and somewhat outmatched them in speed, now she was like a man fighting a tiger. She and King traded blows twice in the blink of an eye, but then the vampire’s claws slammed into Mag’s shield, and she fell on her back. Instantly she rolled, coming up on her feet again, but the vampire was just behind her. This time its claws raked her scale shirt, and she was thrown away again.

Yue and I charged, torches high. But the vampire turned on us and swiped. Yue dropped to the ground to avoid it, but I was too slow. I felt its putrid claws bite into the flesh of my arm, and I cried out with pain.

Before it could follow up, Mag was there again, her spear thrusting, but each time the thing dodged or turned aside her blows with claws as long as my hands. That gave me the time I needed to scramble away from the fight, now cradling my shoulder. I backed away from the spinning, screeching creature and caught Yue’s eye from across the room.

“I will try to give you another opening,” I called out to her.

“Never mind that,” she said. “We have to distract it.”

And then she ran for the cauldron.

I cried out a warning before I could stop myself. The vampire heard, drove Mag off with a wild swipe, and turned just in time to see Yue seize the edge of the cauldron. She heaved, trying to upend it.

The vampire roared and launched itself at her. Yue spun on the spot, thrusting her torch up straight into its face. The creature recoiled, but only for a moment. Then it seized the end of the torch in one clawed hand. It shrieked, its black eyes going wide. But it tightened its grip, digging its claws into its own flesh as it completely enveloped the flames with its hand. Its whole body shuddered, spiny ridges jumping back and forth like mountains in an earthquake.

The flames guttered out. The vampire hissed straight into Yue’s face, pained, but very much alive.

“Ah,” said Yue.

The vampire scooped her up, its clawed fingers wrapping all the way around her torso, and flung her bodily across the room.

CRACK

She struck the wall, slid to the floor, and was still.

“Yue!” I cried. I tried to dart around King, to run to her, but it spun at the sound of my voice. One limb lashed out. I avoided the claws, but the palm struck me like a bear’s paw. I, too, flew into the wall, and my head struck it so hard I nearly blacked out straight away.

“Albern!” cried Mag. “The blood!”

I tried to look at her, tried to focus in a world that was suddenly swimming and hazy. She had reached the cauldron, just as Yue had. But Yue’s distraction, and mine, had given her the time she needed.

She heaved. It did not look as if she should have been able to move the giant iron bowl. But Mag knew leverage—knew how to get more out of the human body than anyone had a right to expect.

The cauldron upended. The blood flooded over the stone floor, splashing all across it, crashing against the vampire’s legs like the ocean against rocks, soaking its lower body in black liquid.

The vampire screamed in livid fury. But it was too focused on the blood to try and claim vengeance against Mag. It fell to its knees, trying desperately to lap up the blood on the ground, pressing its nose and tongue into the stones.

“The blood!” cried Mag again. “With your torch, you idiot!”

Her voice dragged my attention back from King. I frowned at her. The blood? Yue had already tried that. She might be dead. My torch?

I looked down. I still held my torch in my hand, where it burned brightly. When the vampire had struck me, I had dropped my sword, but somehow I had held onto my stupid torch.

Stupid torch. Why should I care about it. The vampire had put Yue’s flame out. Fire had caused pain, yes, but it had not killed the thing.

Then Mag was there, kneeling over me, snatching the torch out of my hand. “Honestly, I have to do everything,” she said mildly.

And then she flung the torch into the blood that soaked the floor.

It caught at once, like lamp oil. Black flames rippled out across the stones, consuming all the blood in a flash. It rushed up King’s arms and legs, its torso, all covered in the black liquid. The creature’s screams were terrible. It writhed, but that only sent it splashing through more blood, through more flame. The darkfire consumed it, its body bubbling and popping, sick, hot, wet spurts of fat and gristle sizzling across the room, splashing in the flaming blood, sending it flying up in little sparks.

“Come on,” said Mag. She hauled me to my feet and helped me across the room, careful to give the flames a wide berth. We found Yue collapsed at the bottom of the opposite wall.

“Is she alive?” I said.

“We have to hope so,” said Mag. “But I cannot carry you anymore, for I will need your help with her.”

I took my arm from Mag’s shoulders, and between the two of us we hauled Yue up. She did not stir or groan, but I did not have the time to check for breath or a heartbeat. We merely held her between us, her arms across our shoulders, the way we had hauled so many wounded fellows from battlefields in our youth.

The stairs were difficult to navigate, carrying Yue as we were. When we reached the top, we saw that we had almost been too late. The whole house was consumed in flames, so thick that we almost could not push through them to reach the street again. But we managed it, bursting out through the flames to the shock of the many frightened onlookers, most of whom had to have assumed we were dead already. Oku gave great leaps as he bounded around us, baying with joy and terror.

“Back!” I said. “Someone get me water!”

We laid Yue down between us, and I fumbled with the straps of her armor. Ashta appeared, helping me. We got Yue’s armor off, and I pressed my head to her chest, listening desperately, trying to feel the rise and fall of her breath.

And then at last …

Pa-pump. Pa-pump.

“Get. Off me,” groaned Yue.

I fell back on my rear, closing my eyes and heaving a deep sigh of relief. “Thank the sky.”

“Here, Sergeant,” said Ashta, relief nearly causing her to drop the waterskin. “Drink this.”

“Lift her head,” said Mag wryly, “or she will drown instead of burning alive.”

She had fetched her singed cloak from the house on our way out, and now she fashioned it into a pillow for Yue. The constable drank deep of Ashta’s water, until finally she pushed it away, sputtering and coughing.

“Are you all right?” I asked her. 

“I am alive,” she said. “That is more than I think I should expect. The vampire?”

“We killed it,” I told her. “Something we could not have done without you.”

“I am not proud to have been mere bait, but I suppose I am the only one who had the courage for it,” said Yue.

“Certainly, it is something I have never volunteered for,” I told her.

Yue snorted. “Of course not.” Then her countenance grew stern, and she held my gaze. “In all earnestness, thank you for your help. And, I suppose, for saving my life.”

“Oh, constable,” I said, grinning at her. “You cannot think we did that for you. I have it on the very best authority that corpses are simply a nightmare to take care of. The paperwork alone.”

Her brows drew together. “I could still arrest you. Both of you.”

I patted her shoulder gently. “You are welcome to try.”

Some of the townsfolk who had skill at healing had been summoned, and they came forwards to care for her now. I stood and went to Mag’s side. Oku was with her, but she paid him no attention. She had turned from us, and now she stood surveying the Shades’ hideout as it burned. Some of the townsfolk had set up a watering line, passing buckets from hand to hand and dousing the nearby buildings to ensure they did not catch alight. But the flames seemed to be self-contained, and there was no wind. The night’s danger looked to be well and truly over.

“The blood,” I said. Mag did not look at me, so I pressed on. “How did you know about the blood?”

“We all should have known,” she said lightly, free from the battle-trance. “From the moment we read their notes. The process infused the blood with magestone essence, remember? I have never seen a substance that catches fire more easily than magestone.”

I shook my head. “It was a guess. You risked all our lives on that strategy.”

“It was the only idea we had,” said Mag. Then at last she turned to me, and a wide grin was plastered across her face. “And what are you complaining for? It worked.”

I laughed at that. “I cannot argue with you there.”

Wordlessly we embraced, clutching each other tight in the light and warmth of the flames. And in that moment, for one brief instance, I felt as though Mag—the old Mag, the one I had known since we were both young—held me in her arms, and that she would never leave my side again.