The Vampire Gift 8: Shadows of Mist

“The prophecy,” I whisper.

“That’s right. Nearly everybody else simply stumbles through life, doomed to mediocrity because of what they refuse to do. They squander their great human potential. They are men lurching down a hallway in the dark, trying doors at random in the vague hope that what lies on the other side is what they truly seek. What their soul was placed on this earth to do, before being corrupted by the distraction of fleshly pleasures. You were placed in the same hallway, but the path before you was lit by the glow of the door you must enter. You can refuse it, of course—but you would not have gotten where you are now if you did not have an internal fire.”

At some point during her speech, I realize, my apprehension faded. Fate, when explained that way, makes so much sense to me.

Why would I reject true achievement? Achievement must be earned through sweat, blood, and tears—not some meaningless “right”, handed to me on a silver platter with no responsibility or expectations attached.

In fact, more than anything, this sort of perspective energizes me. Allura is right. Fate gives life purpose, and the prophecy gives me a clear, tangible goal.

“All right,” I say, feeling the conviction seep back into me, strengthening my voice. “All right, I can accept that. But what about my parents? Do you really not know anything about them?”

“All we have are guesses at this point, Eleira,” Sute answers. “Guesses that would only confuse you and not bring you peace. The truth is, we simply don’t know.”

I exhale heavily. “Fine,” I say. “Fine. Can’t squeeze water out of a stone. So, you’re here to protect me? To guide me? Why? How did that responsibility fall on you?”

“We chose it, Eleira. There is much you don’t know, and much we have to speak of.” The sisters glance, all as one, at Rebecca. She pretends not to notice. “The most important thing for you is to trust us. We will not steer you wrong.”

“I do trust you,” I say. “To a degree. Blind trust would be ludicrous. You cannot expect it of me, and I will not give it.”

“That is fine. You are independent.”

“How did you choose to be the ones who bear responsibility for me?”

“Because we were there when the prophecy was first spoken. We heard it when it was newly cemented in this world. The prophecy rang true, but the time was wrong. It was written down and passed on through the ages. But not all parts of it. Some parts were considered too dangerous to be inked and made everlasting. Those parts, Eleira, are why we’re here. To tell you of them and to guide you through the traps that threaten to ensnare you.”

I feel the conversation shift in tone from the abstract to the concrete. “Then we will speak of that when we are properly alone. First, we have to deal with Morgan—and Rebecca.”

I rise from the table and start to stride back and forth. I’m not sure who I inherited the habit from.

It could even be something I saw the last Queen do.

“Rebecca, tell the others of what I promised you.”

She gives an ingratiating, sickly smile. “Certainly,” she says. “You told me that in return for sparing your vampires, you will grant me access to Morgan, to do with as I wish.”

“Almost,” I correct. “But not quite. I said you will have access to Morgan. I also said she would not be under my protection when you so do. I did not, however, tell you that you have free rein to do with her whatever you will.”

“You—”

I cut her off with a raised hand. “I might have implied it, sure. But that is your fault for not clarifying.”

She chokes out a forced laugh. “You are again reneging on your word?”

“No,” I say. “I value my word as much as I value my life. I made you a promise, and I will make good on that as agreed. However, you should know that before our deal, I made one with the Forsaken Sisters, also.”

“Yes, I know all about that,” she mutters, crossing her arms. “Do you want to rub it in my face again?”

“I told them I would not kill Morgan,” I say. “And that once they arrived to our coven, she would fall into their custody.”

Rebecca seethes.

I let my gaze sweep over the ancient witches. “That means that whatever qualms you have with Morgan, you must take up with them.”

“Unacceptable!” she screeches, slamming her hands against the oak table. “You destroyed all those I had painstakingly made. You stole everything from me, in a false truce, only to spit in my face for trusting you as soon as my back was turned!”

“Quiet,” I snap, and send a blast of the influence at her. She cowers back. “You are lucky I even let you live. You murdered Riyu. You took me prisoner. Your screechers threatened the entire damn Haven! You have absolutely no right to make demands. From now on, you answer to them.”

I give Allura, Lorne, and Sute a serious look. “Rebecca has done some incredible things, but with a malicious intent. She has found a way to block access to the Currents through a potion. She knows how to repel them from the air using some mixture of herbs. And, more importantly, she’s done a soul transfer—”

All three of the Forsaken Sisters immediately focus on me.

“Did you say soul transfers?” Allura asks seriously.

“Rebecca has a vampire, a young fledgling, trapped beneath the ground, in a torrial. She told me that she has restored her own beauty and youth by forming some sort of parasitic link with the fledgling and drawing out her soul into her own body.”

The Forsaken Sisters turn on Rebecca as one. “This is great evil,” they say, fixing her in place with their eyes. “It must be immediately undone.”

“You kill me, and the fledgling dies,” Rebecca exclaims, desperation tinging her voice. “She is a breed of the Royal Family. Eleira would not permit that.”

“No, and neither will I let them kill you,” I say firmly. “You can relax, Rebecca… for now, you are not under any undue threat.”

She clears her throat, straightens her dress, and sits back down.

“We must discuss this without her hearing,” the joined voices of the Sisters ring in my head. “What has been done, if true, is an abomination that cannot be allowed!”

“We will deal with it at the proper time,” I inform them, speaking out loud. “Right now, I want to understand what you intend with Morgan. You made me promise to keep her alive. Why? Since this concerns Rebecca, I want her to hear.”

Rebecca, for her part, gives a minuscule nod of appreciation.

The three witches look at each other, breaking out of their uniformity.

Sute addresses me. “Morgan has knowledge of occult things we are unfamiliar with. She has dabbled into that which is not fully part of the Elemental Forces or of Blood Magic. Somehow, she has learned secrets that have long eluded the witch clans of the world.”

“She’s had very many years to perfect her ability,” Lorne adds. “The ritual you described that she had begun with the Narwhark blood is of great interest to us, because of what it might have achieved. Furthermore, her constant disregard for the natural forces governing life and death cannot be left unstudied. Severing a soul from a body and binding it in an inanimate object… it is the absolute pinnacle of that which must not be done.”

“She is also the sister of the fourth member of our company,” Allura says. “Cierra was down with us, but she betrayed the trust we granted her. She came back to this world many, many years before she was supposed to, abandoning us in the Demon Realm. She may have had contact with Morgan—and for that we need to speak to the former Queen.”

Rebecca looks at them. I see she’s biting her tongue.

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