GOODBYE
“Have I ever told you about the time I staked the vampire Aughessy, boy?” Edgar Pendergast asked conversationally.
His father had expected Remy’s arrival. Grimesworthy was already there, as foul-faced as ever. He led Remy into his father’s private chamber, where the fireplace was roaring, the duke at his usual place in the armchair next to it, looking at the flames as Dr. Yost attended to him.
“I was only thirty-three summers,” the old man said. “We’d been planning the attack for months. We’d whittled down their members following the Battle of Sorgrost, after we’d taken out his second-in-command and the hundred vampires under him. Loathsome little fellow, that Nader—Narber? No, Narshall—had been. Wouldn’t have seen why Kurdashev picked him if not for the viciousness. The woman, though. Hallenshea, was it now? She was their true strategist. She should have been in charge.”
He chuckled. “Still had their own prejudices about women that not even a natural death could overcome, eh, Remington? Didn’t help them much. Scargrave cut Narshall’s head off quick enough, and I’d done the same to the Hallenshea woman in short order. Pretty, for a vampire. Real shame. But the loss left them wide open for a full-scale attack at Meridian Keep. Poor fool thought he could lick his wounds; didn’t expect us to hammer him that same night with fresh troops.
“Wonderful sight, to see it burn. They still have the scythe blade I used to stake him with, proudly displayed down by the Ernswaoll museum near the market quarters. Made my name with those Second Court vampires. First Aughessy, then Kurdashev much later, when he came and abducted the Lady Marissa. People don’t forget who saved them. That’s what I hold on to, boy. People don’t forget.
“Would have attacked them sooner, you know. Lady Marissa was not the only lady who’d been kidnapped, only the last. I implored them to take action long before her abduction, but the previous deaths had been lower-class girls who were beneath the Reapers’ notice. Fools who never listen. Sought to rescue them myself, but by then it was too late. The Second Court paid their fathers off, and Astonbury was willing to sweep it all under the rug. That’s all the difference between him and me, Remington,” his father added, with no trace of either irony or hypocrisy. “I may have my own ambitions, but I fight for all Alurians.”
“Your second dose today, Your Grace,” Dr. Yost reminded him, pressing against the duke’s mottled forearm for a vein.
The old duke let him without comment this time. Against the firelight, he didn’t look quite as sick as before. “And now you’ve chosen to ally yourself with two vampires,” he said, as the physician withdrew. “Heading back to Meridian Keep, decades later, for any new signs of the First Court.”
Remy stayed silent. He was still looking down at the newspaper his father had spread before him, where the tabloid headlines screamed BLUE-BLOODED FAMILIAR OR VAMPIRE INFATUATION? in block print. A caricature of someone who was probably Remy was kneeling on the ground, planting kisses at the feet of a comically fanged vampire with long black hair who was spraying her surroundings with fire.
His father likely had spies within the Archives now that Astonbury was gone, but Remy wasn’t sure to what extent the old man knew about the queen’s offer, about his decision to leave with the court vampires.
“The demimonde is frothing gleefully at the mouth at the thought of the Valenbonne heir running around with Third and Fourth Court derelicts.” Edgar Pendergast gestured to the newspaper, in a much better mood than what Remy had expected of him. “Forget this, boy. Let them believe what they want to believe. We have the Night Court reports, like we wanted.”
“Not even the Archives can confirm any recent attacks,” Remy said. “All I can find are eyewitness claims of the distinct mark on their forearms during two of those attacks.”
“A tattoo of a broken star. The mark of the First. It is no easy feat to carve a vampire, Remington. Only Ancient blood can ink those permanent designs on their accursed flesh. It is, or so I am told, an excruciating process. If a vampire bears that seal on his body, then they are one of the Night Empress’s soldiers.”
The duke shifted in his seat and smiled. “The extent of these attacks is what strikes me as puzzling. Far too scattered. A trail of them down south, a cluster toward the east, some more sightings west into Pai Lai, and then migratory patterns into the north. If these attacks are being caused by First Court vampires, then it is suspicious. They cannot be everywhere at once without alerting the Reapers. But they are few enough and done at infrequent intervals as not to incite panic. I have identified some of the vampires you killed for Lady Daneira’s sake, Remington. Many have been missing from villages along eastern Aluria for the better part of two years.”
Remy straightened. “But why turn them?”
“To shore up numbers for some new nest within the kingdom, perhaps? If you add these cases with the other vampire attacks in Aluria, they do not stand out. And yet…”
He nodded, satisfied. “Of course. Perhaps they are test cases. A means to probe Elouve and the Reapers for any chinks in our armor, to ascertain the weakest parts to attack. We did that in Sorgrost, too. My own maneuver. Sent regiments in all directions to see where they responded the weakest. Rather flattered to see them imitating the best.”
“I leave with Lady Song and Lord Malekh tomorrow,” Remy said, already prepared for the forthcoming argument. “The Third and Fourth Court will have far more knowledge of the Night Empress than all the reports Astonbury or his successor could ever put together.”
His father didn’t speak for several minutes, staring contentedly into the fire instead. Yost had already retreated to the medicine cabinet to fiddle with more bottles there.
“Astonbury was interred today,” Edgar Pendergast said, the smug satisfaction emanating off him like heat. His shoulders shook in laughter. “The old bastard’s dead. He was so convinced he’d outlive me. Would send me the eulogy he’d planned for my wake every few months in the mail. Who’s sending their bereaved condolences now? Hiding secrets from Her Majesty, eh? All those bodies in the basement. Who’s to bet he had something to do with this blasted Rot? Have you seen that, Yost? These mutated bastards, running all over the city?”
“I would be very much interested in gaining access to the Archives’ experiments on them, Your Grace,” Yost said. “It would be useful to see their notes.”
“I’d wish Astonbury alive again just so I could see him face Queen Ophelia’s wrath, see the cunt stand trial,” the duke said, not paying his doctor any attention. “I’d bury him afterward myself, if I got to see him lose his head first.”
Remy stared at him, but nothing seemed to douse his father’s good mood. The old man lifted a hand as if to dismiss him.
“Zidan Malekh. A Third Court vampire. He would know who I am. We’ve had a few run-ins in the past, but our paths had never crossed long enough to make either of us a bigger danger to the other. Wiped out the Fifth Court, didn’t he? Doing the work for us. Perhaps the only reason the alliance has pushed through parliament. And yet, quite odd that he would let a Pendergast, of all people, travel with him. Did he tell you anything of himself, lad?”
Slowly, warily, Remy shook his head.
“Grimesworthy,” his father ordered, and from whatever shadows that had swallowed him up, the valet reappeared, a folder in his hands.
“They haven’t given you everything, of course,” the duke said. “Not even the queen’s blessing would convince Astonbury’s sycophants to give up their most precious secrets. But with the chaos following Astonbury’s demise, I have found it easier to convince people to part with information. Two, three pages—but brevity, I believe, is a rare gift. You might want to read it before you make any rash decisions, boy.”
“There is nothing here that will change my mind,” Remy said stubbornly.
The elder Pendergast shrugged. “Leave with the fangbloods if you wish, then. Without Astonbury and his very charming wife’s access to his study, you will be useless here in Elouve. By all means, travel with the vampires. But remember in the end who you truly work for.”
“I fight for Aluria,” Remy said.
“That’s what those yearning to be heroes always say at the start,” his father said. “Not so often at the end. A very attractive couple, the Lady Song and her protector. Headstrong in her ways, from what I have heard. A bit like Giselle, don’t you think? She looks the type to enjoy a good tumble every now and then.”
“She isn’t Giselle,” Remy seethed.
“You can’t tell me you were never attracted to the duchess, boy. I see the lie on your face. But the Lady Song, yes. You feel more strongly for her than you did Astonbury’s wife. It’s easy enough to figure you out. She bailed you from the gaols, too, didn’t she? Defended you to the queen? Lord Malekh seems quite lax when it comes to his betrothed’s whims, which works in our favor.”
He creaked himself forward. “We do not just fight for Aluria, Remington. We defend Aluria, first and foremost. I gave her the best of my years, and I will continue to defend her until my dying breath, even if I must do it from this confounded bed. Aluria gave us everything. Without her, we are nothing. No filthy vampire will deter me from this path, however sympathetic they are to the cause. If you claim to fight for Aluria as you say, then you shall resolve yourself to do the same, to not let some pretty kindred face turn your head.”
“I won’t,” Remy responded angrily. “I won’t.”
His father smiled coldly. “Read the report, Remington. And if you still think you ought to leave Elouve, well… my blessing may not go as far as the queen’s, but you may have it all the same. Remember Aluria. Remember your mother’s honor, and mine, and all that you owe.”
“NOBODY TOLD me Fourth Court vampires were this persistent,” Remy said, rather weary at this point.
Xiaodan turned to face him. She had chosen not to enter Kinaiya Lodge this time, instead loitering outside by the trees, away from everyone else’s view.
“I thought to keep hiding,” she said, “and not let you know I was here at all. But after everything that’s happened, I thought you deserved some honesty, at least.”
“That’s the only thing I haven’t gotten today, so it would be a welcome change.” He wanted to throw himself into bed and sleep for the next two weeks, but he couldn’t. He’d be leaving with her and Malekh on the morrow, and for the first time in a long while, he’d be doing so of his own volition, no matter what his father tried to imply. “And what else will you be requiring of me tonight?”
“Nothing, this time. I’m only here to wish you good night.”
“Truly?”
“And also, not coincidentally, to keep watch over you, in case anything else should occur.”
Remy stilled. “ ‘Anything else’?”
“We assumed Vasilik was dead. While we believe he is no longer in Elouve, I would not make further presumptions about the status of other old enemies, and am instead taking a more proactive approach to watch over you tonight.”
“I’m no one compared to either you or Malekh. Why protect me?” She was the notorious heiress of a venerable vampire court. She would have been pampered like the princess she undoubtedly was. Remy would not have imagined anyone befitting her station to stand guard like a common soldier over him.
“Because you’ve spent far too long fighting for other people, and it’s time someone extended you the same courtesies. Zidan and I are the reasons you’ve been targeted. Consider this our thanks for accompanying us tomorrow, even if I’ve strong-armed you into accepting.”
“I wanted to come with you. I didn’t need much convincing.” He hesitated. “If you’re hell-bent on doing this, then at least come inside where it’s more comfortable.”
Gray eyes watched him, and within those clear depths, Remy thought he could detect a sudden flash of interest, followed quickly by remorse. “I think not,” Xiaodan said. “This place has always been your bedrock, far enough from anyone who ever wanted to take advantage of you. I have already trespassed twice. Perhaps I will deserve the invitation next time.”
“You already do.” He stepped closer. He couldn’t help it. The weather had taken pity on them tonight, the rains easing up so that only a light fog remained, even if the chill persisted. But Xiaodan hadn’t bothered with a coat, wearing a simple wrap that exposed shoulders both pale and lovely. “Where is Malekh?” he asked.
“Hunting down more clues. I should apologize for his behavior over the last couple of days.”
“Why should you have to?” Remy asked sourly. “He should be more attentive to you.”
She grinned, impish, then glided closer. “Do you have a problem with my fiancé, Armiger Remington?”
Of course he did. She knew that. Remy had never had a healthy relationship with a woman in his life, if one could discount Elke. Intimacy beyond anything physical often eluded him. But he knew, beyond any shadow of a doubt, that she liked him beyond mere protectiveness. And, fool as Remy was, he wasn’t rejecting that. Wasn’t sure he wanted to.
And Malekh. The man made him nervous. He didn’t like the way the lord watched him at times. It stirred up odd emotions that he didn’t want to dwell over.
“I don’t like that he’s your fiancé,” he said honestly. She was so close. He could see another quick streak of desire across her face, a blaze in the gloom. The attraction between them that had been so apparent at the Astonbury gardens still smoldered. And he… they’d always called him a libertine. When she’d explored his history, she would have known of his affairs beyond just Giselle. All he needed to do was bend his head to hers and change everything forever.
“I would like it better,” he said quietly, “if you at least stayed inside.”
But already she was stepping back, sensing the danger in the offer. Her expression remained serene, if a touch regretful. “I will remain outside. It will give me all the time to think with a clearer head—about us, and the journey ahead. Good night, Armiger Remington.”
She made no sound when she melted back into the surrounding trees. Remy waited until the irregular sounds of her heartbeat faded away before heading in.
Alone in his room, he drew out the slim folder his father had presented to him, drew out the scribbled note his father had written on the last page in a shaky, infirmed script, and stared at it for a long time.
THE FAREWELLS the next day were not too protracted. Remy had no one to say goodbye to, save for Elke and Riones. The former had shown up at his doorstep early that morning, armed with new modifications.
“There are far more pockets in here than I am used to having,” Remy said, testing out the new hiding spots she had sewn for him, where he could comfortably secret away half a dozen daggers if he had a mind to.
“Alternatives for Breaker.” Elke had brought him another fire lance. Grinning, she twisted the barrel sideways, revealing the double chamber within, already packed with firepowder. “You’ll still only get one shot off this, but you’ve seen what it can do.” The woman’s smile faded slightly. “It’s one thing to hunt vampires, Remy. It’s another to hunt with them. Perhaps I worry more than I should, and I wouldn’t want to be dismissive of your own skills, because you’re a damn good hunter, but I can’t help it. Stay safe, and send word to me as soon as you can.”
What else could he say to that? Remy laughed and hugged her tightly. “I will.”
Anthony Castellblanc, the Marquess of Riones, had also arrived to see him off. “Do you really think that?” he asked, stunned. “You believe the Night Court is planning an assault on Elouve?”
“My father thinks so, and he’s rarely wrong about these matters. Someone is trying to test how quickly we respond, and you wouldn’t do that if you weren’t planning a full-on assault on the city, searching for the weak spots. I think it’s best if you tell Her Majesty to shore up the city’s defenses.”
“Thank you, Remington. The strategies the Duke of Valenbonne employed during the Elouvian Siege may prove useful once again if this is—” Riones immediately quieted. “Ah, my apologies, Pendergast. Running my mouth off again. Just remembered you were a part of that.”
“I never even think of it anymore,” Remy lied. “Show the queen my report. Pretend you wrote it, in case Feiron and the others complain.”
“Like hell I will. I’ll tell them you’d found it all out, and they can choke on it if they want.” Riones chuckled. “Have always wanted to tell them that to their faces. They’re falling quickly out of Her Majesty’s esteem, and thank the Light it’s finally happening.”
“Anthony, thank you for always looking out for me.”
“You’re not the only one they consider an outsider. Castegon’s been a part of Aluria for nearly a decade now, yet you would think I’d come from some backwater region that puts their breeches on the bottom side up, the way they act sometimes. You were kind enough to me when I was new to Elouve. You saved me that time in Gorngareft, when we were fighting off that coven. Ought to look out for each other, yeah? Get back to Elouve in one piece, Remington.”
After that, there was only one last place to visit.
He’d asked Lady Song and Lord Malekh to meet him there. For several minutes, the couple kept a respectful distance, giving him time to pay his respects.
“I would have thought that the nobles of some higher standing in Elouve would have their own family crypts,” Xiaodan observed quietly, her voice low as if not to disturb the sleep of the dead around them.
“Higher standing is the key reason my father didn’t bother with hers.” Remy wasn’t always in the city, but he visited his mother’s grave religiously, always without his father’s consent. It was a peaceful enough place, and he paid the gravekeeper plenty of money to keep the weeds free around her modest tombstone. Ligaya Bascom Pendergast, it read in flowing script across the smooth marker, and then Beloved Wife and Mother, though only one of those had ever been true.
“Her name means ‘joy’ in the Tithian language,” he said. “I never met her, but I like to think she was that.”
“Was your father against you leaving with us?” Xiaodan asked.
“On the contrary, he was practically eager to see me off.”
Malekh, too, had stepped toward the grave. He stared down at it with his usual stern expression.
“Did she pass away from some illness?” Xiaodan asked.
“Didn’t anyone tell you when you investigated my past?”
“I heard of some mystery surrounding her. Everyone seemed reluctant to talk, but they do view you with suspicion because of it. It wasn’t relevant to Astonbury’s murder, so I decided not to pursue it until I could talk to you myself. Was it a strange sickness?”
“If only.” Remy bent down to brush off a thin layer of dust on the top of the headstone. “She was killed by a vampire—one of the Night Court.”
“But that doesn’t explain why they would treat you with—”
“One of their vampires was also allegedly her lover. She bore a sigil of their court on her shoulder when she died—their mark of possession.” Remy heard Xiaodan’s intake of breath and ignored it. “Some believed she was taken against her will. My father thinks otherwise. There was a reason he no longer treated her as a wife at the end. And after years of living with him, I can understand why she would want to turn to someone else. Even kindred. That’s why I need to know more about what happened to her. To see her honor restored.”
Malekh remained silent. A shame, Remy thought, that this was one of the rare instances where he chose to be.
Ask Lord Zidan Malekh, his father’s note had said, a sire and former high noble of the First Court. Ask Lord Zidan Malekh, former consort to the Night King, and once his Lord Executioner. He once killed under the Night King’s name. He could do so again.
Seduce the Lady Song if you need to. And Malekh, too, if you must. Remember your vows.
And Remy did.
He rose from where he’d knelt and turned to them. “Let’s go.”