Enemies
Walking to the car took longer than the vampire had claimed, but once they finally reached it, Myra stopped in her tracks, her breath caught in her throat. The vehicle’s roof and doors shone like a polished drop of blood. It was narrow and low, barely reaching to her waist. Perhaps a sports car? She had no idea—she had only seen a few pictures, and never anything like this. Myra imagined herself years from now, telling the story to her grandkids. If they asked what kind of a car it had been, she would probably simply say “red.”
Vlad opened the back door and held Sissi’s hand. “Thank you, Your Highness,” the girl uttered as she got in, her voice shaking, and Myra rolled her eyes. In the past hour, Sissi had done little but stare at the Prince with a lovestruck puppy-dog look stamped on her face.
The Prince was about to close Sissi’s door, but she reached out and placed her hand against it, keeping it open. “How do you even have cars?”
“We cannot use hydrogen- or solar-powered cars, as you can imagine,” he said. “It is a very old gas car that I have modified to run on autogas. Still, our supplies are very limited, and only very important vampires, such as myself, ever get to drive.”
Sissi’s jaw dropped, and Myra rolled her eyes. She sat in the front seat and looked around. “I’ve read cars are supposed to have some kind of seat belts,” she said, yelping as Vlad started the engine and accelerated so fast her head stuck to the headrest.
“I removed them,” he said. “They disturbed my passengers.”
Myra watched the landscape fly past them through the window until it became blurry. She had the strange feeling that at any point, the car would separate itself from the ground and fly into the air. The cloudy sky stretched above them, a patchwork of white, grey, and black, letting only a hint of daylight pass through. “Aren’t you supposed to turn on the lights?”
“The bulbs burned out,” Vlad said. “I never bothered to replace them. Don’t worry, I can see in the dark.”
“That’s not the point,” Myra said, grabbing the edge of her seat and holding tight. “Other drivers should be able to see us, too. Not all of us are immortal.”
“There is no one to crash with,” he said. “Even if there were other drivers, they would be vampires and could see us.”
Bumps and holes covered the road. Vlad drove in a zigzagging trail to avoid them, but too often it was impossible, and the car jumped up and down. Why was it so difficult to repair the road?
“How is Tristan doing?” Myra asked.
The Prince scowled. “How do you think he is doing? You forgot to mention that maggot used him for whip practice.”
Sissi leaned forward. “But how did you get him out?” she asked. “We searched everywhere and found no traces.”
“It was disturbingly easy.” He looked at Myra. “I followed you and your people after you left the Palace. It’s not your fault—no one can hide their tracks from me. As for the spell, I am somewhat skilled in magic. It was simple to detect it and lift it once I knew what I was looking for. But worry not—I lifted the spell only for myself. Your Resistance is still safe from other vampires.”
Once I knew what I was looking for. Myra wanted to slap herself. Vlad had said it was not her fault, but in fact it had been. “You tricked me into telling you about the spell.”
The landscape changed around them, and the flat, stony desert gave way to high rocks.
“And you fell for it,” he said. “Why?”
Myra looked away. Up in the sky, strong winds carried a heavy black cloud, fast and angry. Somewhere, a raven screeched. “I never imagined there was a counterspell, or that you’d know how to perform it.”
“And so you learn a new lesson,” he said. “Always imagine every possibility and assume that your enemies are capable of everything.”
Myra raised an eyebrow. “Another one of your trademarked Chessboard Monologues? Should we go back to the Resistance and fetch you a chess set?”
He smiled. “Thank you, but I am quite finished.”
“But how did you get in unnoticed?” Sissi asked.
“That was the simplest part of all.” Vlad let go of the wheel and gestured with his hands in the air, and Myra grabbed her seat, shaking. “The guards at the Resistance only look back and forth, left and right. They never look down, and most of all, they never look up.”
“You crawled on the ceiling?” Sissi cried, and Vlad turned back to look at her.
Myra clenched her teeth. Was it so difficult to look at the road while driving?
“Of course I did. This is what vampires do, and it was shortsighted of the Resistance not to predict that. I wandered across the ceiling of the entire hideout for a while until I found Tristan’s cell. I shared my strength with him, picked his locks, and then we left this place the same way that I had come.”
“Shared your strength with him?” Sissi asked.
Myra rolled her eyes and turned back to look at Sissi. “It’s a euphemism for letting another vampire drink your blood.”
Sissi’s eyes widened, and she paled, but the Prince grinned.
“Myra, dearest,” he said. “It is called ‘a euphemism’ if you replace something that sounds crass and ugly with something that sounds nicer. In what way does sharing your blood with someone sound crass and ugly?”
“Apart from in every—” A screeching sound interrupted her, and Myra looked outside. The rocks flying past them were slowing down. “What’s happening?”
“We are almost there,” Vlad said as the car stopped completely. The world swam around Myra for a moment before it came back to its normal position. “We will continue on foot.”
“Why did Sissi and I need to come, anyway?” asked Myra.
“Ila won’t be too happy to see me,” he said. “I need a human shield.”
Myra threw him an outraged look, and he grinned. “Don’t worry, she would never harm a human. Come.”
The trio reached a rock face covered in long, hanging lianas. As they approached, Myra spotted a gate carved into the solid rock. When they were no more than two hundred steps away, people emerged from the gate, armed with swords and crossbows.
Myra stopped in her tracks, wondering why Vlad was not doing the same. About thirty warriors were waiting for them. Each bore a laden crossbow pointed straight at the Prince’s chest.
The warriors parted, creating a clear path for the fast-approaching single figure—a short and round-faced woman with long jet-black hair held together in two side-braids. She looked no older than twenty, but Myra guessed she was probably a centuries-old vampire. She was dressed comfortably, yet stylishly, in a fitted dark blue shirt and slender black jeans tucked inside high leather boots. Long silver earrings hung from her ears, and her dark eyes shone with unsuppressed fire.
“You cowardly, stinking scumbag,” she cried, as she approached in short but fast strides. “You sleazy piece of trash! How dare you show your ugly face here?”
Vlad gave her a radiant smile. “My face is many things, my dear,” he said. “But I would bet you anything that there is neither a human nor a vampire in this world who would claim it to be ‘ugly.’”
She raised her hand to hit him, but he caught her wrist midair. “Now, now, Ila, not in front of the humans.”
Ila looked at the girls as if seeing them for the first time. “You think you can hide behind your farm animals?”
Myra straightened her jacket and cleared her throat. “We’re not from the Farm. I belong to a Resistance that has been fighting the Prince.”
“Admirable,” Ila said in a tone of voice that suggested it was anything but. “And what a fine job you’ve done, defeating the one you call Prince.”
Myra looked away, offended on Zack’s behalf. “To be fair, we’ve had some success.”
Ila raised her eyebrows. “Indeed? Then tell me, please, why are you walking by Vladimir’s side under what appears to be your free will?”
Vlad walked straight towards one of the guards, a vampire with a shaved head, unperturbed by the wooden bolt pointed at his heart. The guard seemed to hesitate, the crossbow wavering in his hand. His eyes darted towards Ila, who shook her head, frowning. The Prince reached the bald vampire and placed his hand over the crossbow, pushing it down so that the bolt pointed to the ground. “No need for that, friend.”
He looked at the other guards, who still held their crossbows up, pointed at his chest. He gave each a smile before turning to Ila. “If you had given me a chance to explain, I could have told you we all fight on the same side now.”
Ila looked at her warriors, one by one, her eyes inspecting the wooden weapons. Her gaze rested on a female vampire dressed in leather mail, and their eyes locked. An unspoken command seemed to pass between them, and the warrior’s finger stiffened on the trigger. Tension hung in the air, so thick Myra could taste it in every breath. “I’d rather stake myself than fight side by side with a murderer,” Ila said. “What is this madness?”
Vlad turned his back on the bald guard, who promptly raised his crossbow once again. “I need your help in destroying the WeatherWizard.”
Whatever Ila had expected to hear, Myra was quite certain it was not that. The vampire stood frozen, staring at Vlad. “You… but why?”
“I thought it was obvious,” the Prince said. “The Wizard is heavily guarded. I need to pull a lot of strings to give us an opening to act, but I cannot destroy it by myself.” He turned back to wink at the bald guard, grinning at the raised crossbow.
“What are you talking about?” Ila snapped. “What I am asking is, why do you wish to destroy the Wizard? It makes no sense.”
The Prince shrugged and waved at the dark clouds above. “What can I say? I miss the sunshine.”
Myra thought she saw small thunderbolts springing out of Ila’s dark eyes. “Vladimir, this is no time for jokes. You come here and drop a bomb like that. Do you expect me to take you seriously?”
“Actually, yes,” he said. “I cannot do this without you. I need you and your warriors.”
She narrowed her eyes. “So this is what this is about? You need my warriors. You will station a few of them in each of several major palaces, so they are ready to strike when the time comes.” She paused. “Do you think I’m that naïve? This thing has the word ‘trap’ written all over it, in big fluorescent letters. You can’t take us down in any other way, so now you try to cheat me.”
“Oh, please,” Vlad said. “I could have taken you down long ago if I had wanted to. And this is no trap. I wish to destroy the Wizard, as do you. If you send me away, you will miss the only opportunity to get this done.”
Ila crossed her arms. “I won’t give you a single warrior unless you give me your two sidekicks as hostages.”
Vlad seemed to consider this and turned towards the girls. “Myra, Sissi, I hope you would not mind. Ila is true to her word and will treat you well.”
“You must be joking,” Ila cried. “I’m not talking about the humans. I mean Armida and Tristan, of course.”
“They are not my ‘sidekicks,’” Vlad said.
“And we are?” Myra said.
“Whatever. We’re not here to argue semantics,” said Ila. “Would you consider leaving them with me as hostages to guarantee my warriors’ safety?”
“No,” Vlad replied. “I need them as backup if the battle goes wrong. They are both capable fighters.”
“And we are not?” Myra asked.
“There is no deal, then,” Ila said.
“Ila, please,” Vlad said. “Surely you see my point. We will be a few against many. We need everyone able to fight.”
“I can use a gun, not that anyone cares,” Myra murmured, and Sissi gave her a sympathetic grin.
“I don’t trust you enough for such a deal,” Ila said.
“My lady,” a vampire said from behind them, and all eyes turned to him. The first thing Myra noticed was his short dark hair. In fact, she saw that there were many short-haired vampires among Ila’s warriors, and a few had their heads completely shaven, like the one guard Vlad had challenged. So long hair was not necessarily a vampire thing; it was more like the Prince dictating the fashion trends.
“What is it, Serhan?” Ila asked.
“The Prince has traveled a long way to come and give us his proposal,” the vampire said. “We should at least invite him inside and hear him out.”
Ila held his gaze for a moment and turned back towards Vlad. “Very well,” she said. “My men have better manners than I do, but I tend to let grace slip when I am in the company of those who only murder and destroy. Please, follow me.”
He smiled and gave her a small nod. “Lead the way.”
“It’s a trap,” Sissi said and blushed deeply when Vlad looked at her. “Your Highness, I mean, it’s obviously a trap. They want to get you inside so they can kill you or capture you.”
“I know, dear,” Vlad said, taking a step after Ila. “But you are brave to speak up.”
Myra stared at him. “Then why on earth are we following?”
“Because,” he said loudly, looking sideways at Ila, “it is a show of trust and good will.”
This was complete madness, Myra thought as she eyed the entrance into a dark, narrow tunnel. Did he have a plan? He always did—he had saved Tristan after all when it had seemed impossible. But this seemed more like unreasonable arrogance than a plan. After she had fought so hard to save Vlad’s sorry life from Zack, he was now throwing it away as if it meant nothing. Her only hope now was that at least Sissi and she would be unharmed.
Who was she kidding? They were humans. What did she think the vampires would do to them—invite them for tea and cookies and then send them home?
Myra took a deep breath and stepped into the dark.