Déjà Vu
Hope. Bravery. Terror. The desire to turn back and stay home forever. The desire to run forward and never stop. Every step Myra took brought back so many memories. Through the caves, through the fields and the woods. Last time she had walked this road, she had been so scared and so excited. Ecstatic and regretful. Naïve. A determined child who’d thought she knew exactly what she wanted. And now she had seen the world outside of her familiar cellars, and she had no idea what she wished for anymore.
Andre and Lidia walked next to her, just as Alerie once had. Would they meet Alerie’s fate? Myra stole a glance at the huge white flag Andre carried high above his head. Not this time. This time, they were not secret assassins on a suicide mission, but ambassadors, seeking peace.
Light grey clouds covered the sky, but there was no rain or wind. Had Vlad ensured good weather to ease their trip? The Palace was merely an hour away now. A knot twisted in Myra’s stomach. When she had run away, she had not imagined returning. Going back to the libraries, ballrooms, and theater halls. Seeing for one last time this world she was fighting to destroy, and knowing she was no longer welcome. Her steps slowed down, and her hands grabbed her backpack straps. There, underneath the food, water, clothes, weapons, and Tristan’s cloak and pin, was something else. A notebook, filled with newly written chapters. She would give it to Vlad as one last gift: his book, almost complete.
Something dark appeared in the field in front of them and Myra froze, raising her hand. Her companions stopped. Lidia took off her backpack, pulled out a pair of binoculars, and raised it to her eyes.
“Vampires,” she said. “They’re approaching on foot. More than twenty of them, and there’s a covered cart with two horses.”
“It was about time we met a patrol,” Myra said. “I expected the Prince to send many to intercept us and lead us to the Palace.”
Andre raised the white flag and waved it high above their heads. The trio waited silently as the vampires approached. Soon, the shapeless spot in the distance became a group of people, and Myra could distinguish their faces. She had seen some around the Palace but had no memory of others. But then, she spotted their dark-haired leader and froze.
Natalia. One of the vampires who had drunk Alerie. Myra closed her eyes and took a deep breath. If she wished a chance for peace, she had to keep this information from Lidia and Andre.
“Greetings!” she called when the group had almost reached them. “We come in peace. We are here on behalf of General Wong to negotiate Tristan’s release. Prince Vladimir expects us.”
Natalia grinned, revealing sharp white teeth against her red lips. “Indeed he does. Follow me.”
Lidia’s hand strayed to the crossbow at her belt. Myra met her eyes and shook her head. She walked after Natalia, followed by her two companions.
Vampires crowded in a circle around them, and Myra’s stomach twisted. If their enemies wanted to harm them, there was nothing they could do. “I must warn you,” she said, “that if we don’t return, Tristan dies.”
“Then we should make sure you return,” Natalia said and stopped by the cart. “Please, get inside, and make yourself comfortable. We will take you to the Palace.”
Myra took a step back. “The Palace is an hour’s walk from here. Thanks, but we don’t need the cart.”
Natalia shrugged. “Prince’s orders. He sent us to look for the ambassadors he expected you would send out and gave us the cart to transport you without delay. We didn’t know how far from the Palace we would find you.”
In her mind, Myra ran through her weapons. A knife and a stake at her belt, and a crossbow and two more stakes in her backpack. Far from enough. The vampires were too many; if there was any trouble, they could do nothing. “But now you found us, and we’re almost there. I don’t mind walking.”
The vampire’s smile faded. “I wasn’t asking.”
Myra froze. In her mind’s eye, she could see Natalia, bent over Alerie and draining her blood. She had assured everyone at the Resistance that the vampires would not harm them as long as Tristan was a prisoner. Lidia and Andre were here because they trusted her.
Her eyes darted towards her friends, and their gazes locked. Lidia’s hand slid towards her crossbow and this time stayed there. Andre’s fingers curled around his dagger’s hilt. His other hand clutched the white flag’s wooden pole.
Myra smiled, trying to project calm and confidence. “Thank you for offering us transport. I know the Prince can misjudge human strength and endurance, and it was very thoughtful of him to send this cart. Luckily, we are fine and believe we’ll reach the Palace even faster on foot. Let’s waste no more time.”
“Let’s waste no more time, indeed,” said Natalia. “This charade has gone on for too long.”
Myra caught movement out of the corner of her eye. The world became a blur around her, left and right. Lidia slashing with a knife, Andre thrusting the flagpole forward, vampires easily deflecting blows with blades or their bare hands.
She thrust her own dagger towards Natalia, but the vampire simply grabbed her wrist and twisted it. Pain shot across her arm and she dropped her weapon with a gasp. “Don’t kill anyone,” said Natalia. Myra tried to wriggle free, but the vampire grabbed her other wrist in an iron grip and twisted her arms behind her. Natalia took a roll of rope from her belt and tied Myra’s hands. Myra kicked at the vampire’s legs, desperately and viciously, but Natalia showed no reaction.
Not again. Not again. I can’t be getting captured on my way to the Palace again.
She looked up, assessing the battlefield—if one could call the scene of the seconds-long fight a battlefield. She gasped, and her heart sank.
No. No. No. No. Not Again.
A male vampire Myra had never seen before held Lidia, whose hands were now bound just like Myra’s. But Andre…
Andre sat on the ground, his hands pressed against his stomach. Blood soaked his clothes, staining his fingers.
No. Alerie had died because Myra had completely misjudged their situation, and now it was happening all over again.
“What did I say about not killing anyone?” said Natalia. “Should we eat him, then?”
“We can’t save him,” said the vampire holding Lidia. “But if we patch him up, he might survive long enough for an interrogation.”
Natalia nodded. “Very well. Do that.” She pulled Myra towards the cart. Myra kicked and struggled, but the vampire dragged her on. Once they were next to the cart, Natalia lifted the flap and threw Myra inside.
Myra fell on the wooden floor and rolled around. A sound of metal against stone came from her left. Clang. Clang. Clang. She rolled onto her side and lifted her head, straining her neck.
A tall vampire with dark curly hair sat on the wooden bench, sharpening his sword. He looked up to meet her eyes and grinned. Myra froze. She had seen him before—in the Great Hall, at the Prince’s Audience.
“Ah,” he said. “I’ll be damned if this isn’t Vladimir’s pet herself.”
“Casiel, what are you doing?” Myra said, ignoring the hard floor pressing against her ribs as she spoke. “If we don’t return, Tristan will die.”
The vampire left his sword leaning against the cart’s wall and stood up from the bench. He was still bent down, to avoid touching the flap ceiling. “Indeed he will.” He stepped around Myra and walked towards the back of the cart.
She gasped. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? You always wished to destroy the Resistance, but the Prince wouldn’t let you. But if my people kill Tristan, he will.” It all made sense now. So many vampire factions had different agendas; why hadn’t she foreseen it? “You kill two birds with one stone. You’ll torture us for information. At the same time, my friends will think it was the Prince who killed us and will execute Tristan. If Tristan dies, you’ll have the Prince’s blessing and support to go after the Resistance.”
“Correct,” Casiel said, stepping outside. “Exactly what I’ve always wanted.”