Do you?
Do you what?
Do you love me?
Danica woke in darkness. She’d dreamed of Cole. For a moment she couldn’t remember what had happened, and she panicked when she couldn’t find Lara next to her.
And then she remembered Lara was dead, and she was wracked with sorrow. She tried to keep herself quiet, but her sobs echoed into the dark. Memories of Cole flashed through her mind, moments they’d shared. W alking near Rimefang Loch beneath a blood sun. D oing shots of green liquor on an airship passing over Kalakkaii. S moking naked in Cole’s little apartment in Ath while they read cheesy lines to each other from paranormal romance novels. L ooking at one an other, staring at one an other, kissing and caressing and listening to music from the grammaphone.
Danica lay in the dark. She imagined Cole next to her, just like in her memor ies, with her dark hair spilled o nto the floor, her pale skin, her luminous eyes large and expressive and filled with something Danica could only hope was love, Black’s own helpless devotion reciprocated.
She smiled at the memories, even though they brought tears to her eyes.
Do you love me?
I don’t know.
She was on an airship. She heard the hum of machinery and smelled fuel. T he large steel vessel vibrated as it barreled its way across the frozen sky.
It was a large ship, she guessed, an Ironnaught, which meant t hey were on a long voyage. A vessel that big meant Rake had brought plenty of res ources along. Men, Scarecrows, vehicles.
What the hell are you up to? Why are you in bed with Koth?
No one came for her. She was left alone in the dark. H er spirit was distant and blocked off. Shielded by the Fade, Raven.
What do you want with me, Rake?
I guess we’ll use you after all, he’d said.
Use me for what?
She couldn’t come up with an answer. From what she could tell, he just wanted to make her suffer.
She slept.
S he and Lara and Cross and Kane are all in the Black Hag back in Thornn. The room bustle s with people. The air is bright in spite of the tobacco smoke. People laugh and smile and dance. The dark air swirl s with dissonant chords of tribal music and heavy beats. The smell of bacon and bread is strong.
She sits at the table, and all three of them look at her gravely. Their bodies fad e before her eyes. The y begin to crumble like they ’re made of sand.
She panics. She reaches across for Lara, but her hands pass right through her, and Cole’s body comes apart and collapses into dust.
She reaches for Cross, and Kane. She takes hold of them both, but her grip is tenuous. They ’ re slipping through her grip, slowly coming apart.
They ’ ll both be gone soon. She doesn’t have much time.
Danica woke in darkness. A gain. Voices from dreams and memories plagued her thoughts.
The air was colder than before. G usts of cold wind push ed through the gaps in the steel-plated hull. T he floor dipped at a steep angle. The ship must have been flying through some treacherous territory, navigating high peaks or sharp winds. Everything lurched.
Danica slowly rose to her hands and knees. Her body was rigid with pain. Her spirit had never had the opportunity to fully heal the wounds she’d suffered in t he Gauntlet, so her arm and leg were both tender, and they pulsed with hurt. A t least they were no longer bleeding.
Her back was sore, and her arms ached so badly she could barely lift them. She felt how swollen her face was from the battle with Creyzak.
Lara.
Do you?
She stood up and stumbled through the darkness. S he found a wall, and slowly explored the perimeter of the room. It seemed to be empty, which meant they’d likely stuck her in a spare cargo hold. Ironnaughts were massive ships designed to haul hundreds of prisoners at a time, and they were armed to the teeth in case they ran into any trouble. Even if Rake brought a massive force along there’d still be rooms to spare for the likes of her.
I’m not done yet, you bastards. You know me, Rake. You know I won’t die easily.
She found a recess in the wall, and after she probed around for a minute she realized it was the hatch door with a rotating wheel handle that was undoubtedly locked from the outside.
It occurred to her they must have placed her in some sort of shielded chamber. She doubted very much that Raven was just standing around outside so Black couldn’t channel her spirit.
She rested her face against the cold metal. The Ironnaughts weren’t terribl y well insulated. The heat she’ d felt when she’d first woken hadn’t been from the engines but from whatever lay outside. That meant they’d started off near the Scorpion Desert, not far from Black Scar, and now that it wa s colder they were likely entering the north. They were probably somewhere in t he Reach.
And what the hell do you want there, Rake? The Reach was barren tundra, a no man’s land populated by tribes of uncivilized creatures. Aside from some scattered settlements, there was very little to be found in the area.
But there are lost cities there, she reminded herself. Places like Karamanganjii. The last place she’d seen Lara until they’d both been taken in Blacksand.
God damn you, she thought. You knew they’d kill her anyway s. Why did you give them Cross?
You have to fix this. I don’t how, but you have to.
She st oo d at the door. She listened.
S he heard beastly roars that she thought came from below. Th at meant th ey were carrying Ebonbacks, and maybe Razorwings. Of course, if the Kothians had tagged along then there was no telling what sorts of undead monstrosities might have be en on the ship.
The fact that Rake had chosen to all y T he Revengers with the undead of Koth turned her stomach. If there was any modicum of kinship or familiarity left for her former allies, it had been dispelled by that arrangement. It didn’t matter that some of T he Revengers might not agree with the alliance: none of them would oppose Rake. Even his co-founders hadn’t been strong enough to stop him from taking over the prison. T he Revengers would follow him no matter what, and that made each and every one of them her enemy.
Black searched around the door, desperate for a way out, even though she knew there wasn’t one.
Save your strength. Prepare your mind. When an opportunity comes, you ’ll have to seize it.
T he door opened. It might have been hours later.
Danica was sitting on the floor. She rested and meditat ed as best she could. Kane had taught her some yoga on the ir lengthy train trip along the Dubrakki Railway, and she found it helped calm her mind sometimes.
She snapped to and stood up as the door opened. Danica looked for a n opportunity, but she quickly realized this wouldn’t be it. Two Scarecrows stood in the doorway with jury-rigged 20mm rifles aimed straight at her chest. T heir leering and near ly skeletal f aces seemed to grin. The corridor was filled with dim red light, like they stood in a darkroom. Danica had to squint to see.
“Slowly,” Raven’s voice commanded from deeper in the hall. “Try anything stupid…”
“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Danica said. She was too weak and exhausted to fight the Scarecrows without the aid of her spirit, so she quietly stepped forward and offered up her wrists. They cuffed her with cold iron and led her down a long corridor lined with vault-style doors. The steel was riveted and stained. Everything smelled like fuel and sweat.
The Ironnaught lurched as they led Danica up a steep set of metal stairs. The Scarecrows flanked her front and back, while Raven stayed in the rear. The grave-rot stench of the undead was gut — wrenching.
“So where are we?” Black asked.
“Just walk, bitch, ” Raven said. Her voice was smooth and cold. “ No talking. And don’t screw with me: y ou don’t need to be in one piece for what Rake has planned for you.”
Danica’s legs ached, but she’d done her best to rec over her strength while she’d rested. The stairway shaft was barely lit with dim red bulbs set in iron wall- brackets. She looked up and saw no end to the stairs, just more grilled landings and darkness. They’d climbed maybe five floors already.
Screw it.
She waited until the Scarecrow in front of her reached the next landing. Danica threw her body back against the Scarecrow behind her while she held onto the railing. The undead’s spindly legs slipped just enough for her to shove it backwards, and i t lost its footing and crashed into Raven. T hey both fell down the steps and on to the landing be low.
She sense d her spirit. H e was free from Raven’s grip, and he rushed to her like they’d been separated for years. Her skin flush ed hot from his presence.
The Scarecrow in front of her turned. It couldn’t maneuver in those tight quarters, so Danica duck ed down and grab bed the sid e of the four-foot long 20mm cannon. The trigger sounded, and if not for her spirit shielding her the roar of the weapon would have blown her eardrums apart. The air glowed hot white. Shells pounded into the wall and the other Scarecrow. Danica tried to aim for Raven, but the Scarecrow that she struggled with reached up and grabbed her by the neck. D ead fingers that smelled of burned meat closed around her throat.
Her spirit hardened into an ic y blade, and s he arched backwards and drove it into the Scarecrow’s oversized face. Teeth and bone shattered. Its grip held for a moment, then faltered.
Danica charged past the brute and up the stairs three at a time. Part of her wanted to go back and finish off Raven, but she heard movement down below. Revengers, more Scarecrows. She ran.
The stairs just kept going. A brighter light appeared far overhead as a door opened somewhere near the top of the stairwell. Black’s heart leapt into her throa t. Voices came from above.
She looked around. T here was a small door on t he landing she’d stopped on. She pushed it open, moved through and closed it behind her as quietly as she could.
She stepped through d ark clouds of cold steam. The smell of chemicals was strong. Danica crept forward along a stark metal corridor. D eep blue lights cast a path of bruise shadows. She struggled to peer through the frost — black haze.
Dripping shards of ice clung to the steel. The air hum med with machinery. Danica tasted aged metal and salt. She heard voices in the distance, cold and alien. Thick pl umes of smoke billow ed out of the walls. She saw faces in the fumes, leering and distorted.
Her spirit pulsed against her skin. H e sense d something ahead, something she couldn’t make sense of.
S he inched forward. Her breaths clouded in the air. Cold steam curled around her feet as she stepped through broken pale light that pushed up through the grill beneath her. She couldn’t see anything below except shadows and smoke.
Danica kept looking b ack. She expect ed the hatch door to fly open at any second, but it didn’t.
Her feet found a hole. A narrow ladder led down. The passage continued on, but she made the descent almost without thinking. Her spirit clung protectively to her skin. The ladder was cold, and it was covered in something that felt like ice but was actually some congealed slime that clung to her gloves.
She descended into a claustrophobic room filled with tilted shadows. Massive devices like boiler tanks pushed in at her from all sides. The air was oppressively hot, but dark ice had somehow formed on the walls.
What the hell are you up to, Rake?
She found a large cylindrical tank filled with churning green and black fluid. A second tank waited nearby, and a third, all tightly arrange d. Dark soil covered the floor like someone had spilled dirt. Danica leaned down, and found bones in the soil.
Shapes writhed in the liquid. Humans stripped of their flesh, now turned to black husks of charred and wriggling meat. They hung upside-down in the murky fluid, tethered to metal hooks and glass tubing and surrounded with cables and wires that moved like undersea life. Dark juices were pumped out of t he tanks and into a humming and virulent machine the size of a refrigerator. The machine’s iron face bore a clear glass plate, a viewport to the guts of the device where a dozen or so separate containers had been filled with different colored fluids.
The bodies sagged as if being deflated. They looked less like human corpses and more like leather sacks with each passing second. The black muscles sucked inwards, pulled tight, contorted like burning plastic. The faces crinkled in a nd the eyes bulged and sagged down.
“What the hell?”
Her spirit screamed. Something in that fluid, in those bodies, made it recoil. She tried to restrain him, and suddenly found she couldn’t.
Because he wasn’t there.
A Scarecrow stepped out from around one of the machines and aimed its weapon at her. A pair of war wights followed. T heir peeled skulls and razor talons shone in the dull light.
A Fade was with them, but it wasn’t Raven. It was Gath. The wiry Islander cell mate who’d kept her and Co le safe for the promise of sexual f avor s was there, dressed in a Revenger’s dark armor. He smiled warmly. Danica felt waves of power emanate from him, that null field that kept her spirit from doing anything.
“You bastard,” she said. “Of course. No wonder you were able to keep me and Cole safe and well fed. I should’ve seen right through it.”
“I still want that threesome,” Gath smiled.
Danica backed away.
She heard footsteps on the walkway overhead. She knew she could have dodge d into the maze of machinery and floating bodies, but she didn’t know if there was another way out, and with two F ades nearby the only weapon she had was useless.
Not yet, then.
She held up her shackled hands, and was taken.
The upper decks of the Ironnaught were in chaos. Revengers moved about frantically. Danica got the impression the ship was in highly dangerous territory and might have even been under attack, except that she couldn’t hear any s ounds of battle.
The halls were made from black iron. Wide corridors led to cross-halls and large chambers. Every door stood open, allowing Danica to peer into t he officer ’s rooms and map chambers, and she saw the navigation console and the master gunnery. Scarecrows stood at almost every intersection. S he felt the distinct presence of war wraiths and murder spirits as they float ed through the ventilation ducts.
She was taken to the bridge, a stoic and humorless room cut in odd elliptical angles. There were no chairs, just standing stations at the control panels along the back wall. There was a massive viewport made from reinforced blood glass, and skylight s above and below. The ship floated high above a pale wasteland dominated by glacial floes and dark hills, jagged ruins and drifts of snow. D erelict clo uds seemed frozen in the dusk sky.
Rake was on the bridge, along with Geist, Burke and Raven, all dressed in Revenger black, with iron epaulets and blood-colored badges of rank on their chests. The Fade woman was bruised and had a nasty cut down one side of her face, presumably from whe n she and the Scarecrow had fallen down the stairs. She walked right up to Danica, and Black braced herself to receive a blow.
“No,” Rake said. Raven fumed. Her dark eyes narrowed with hate, and she clenched her fists several times before she finally stepped back.
“Good girl,” Danica said. “Can you roll over, too?”
Raven stepped back up and punched Black in the stomach. The blow was hard and fast, and Raven’s hand felt like it was nothing but bone. Pain flared through Danica’s abdomen, and she doubled over, the breath forced from her lungs. She coughed a few times before she was able to stand straight again.
Rak e walked over and slapped Raven hard in the face. Blood ran down her mouth.
“I said ‘Stop’, you undisciplined whore,” he said quietly. “Back away.”
Raven did as she was told. She looked at Danica and smile d.
“You never learn, do you?” Rake said to Danica.
“You have two Fades,” she said. “Impressive. I was wondering th is whole time how you kept my spirit restrained while I was in general population. I figured you’d just given me Narcosm.”
“Too expensive,” Rake smiled.
“I would think a Fade i s even more expensive.”
“Our good friends in Koth have all but perfect ed the process of creating Fades, ” Rake said.
“Creating?” Danica said.
“ They can’t make more than a handful every few months or so,” he said offhandedly. “So we’re not exactly ready to invade Thornn with a host of Fades. Not yet.” He smiled. “Koth has something a bit more direct in mind.”
“I can’t believe you,” she said. “ Joining forces with Koth. You’re human. Well…you used to be human…”
“Ha, ha,” Rake smiled. “Don’t push your luck, bitch. The only reason you’re still alive is because I can still use you.”
“So why the tour?” she said. “ I never pegged you as someone who liked to stick to Super-Villain cliches.”
“Rake…” Burke said, but Rake turned and gave him a look. Burke shook his head, and backed away.
“I really did miss you, Dani,” Rake said quietly. The shi p was in hover mode. Danica saw the remains of a ruined tower in the distance, some broken spire of black stone. D evastated ruins surrounded it, the smoldering husks of dark buildings and old walls. “You had a mean streak in you that always surprise d me. On the outside you were just another pretty face, a woman trying to make it in a man’s world. You walked the walk and talked the talk…but you were different. You weren’t afraid to do the things that needed to be done.” He smiled. “Remember Sandosa? That village? Holy shit, what you did to those people…”
“Go to hell,” she said. “I’m not like that anymore.”
Rake smiled, and smacked her. H ard. Blood welled from her lip. Her face stung, and painful tears came to her eyes.
“I know,” he said calmly, as if nothing had happened. “I know, Dani…and that’s what really stings. Because you used to be someone I could count on.” He backed away, and a Scarecrow took hold of both her arm s in its skeletal vise-grip. It held her so tight she was afraid the bony hand s would cut off her circulation. “Do you want to know what’s going on?”
“Why would you tell me?” she spat.
“Because it’s not a secret,” he shrugged. “Koth is going to enter the war, and it will d estroy the Southern Claw. It’ ll be fast, and it’ll be ugly. With the humans subjugated — oh, Black Scar will be the new capital of the human lands, did I mention that? — the Ebon Cities will understand that we’re not to be fucked with. If they can’t see that, then we go to war against them, too.”
The Ironnaught shuddered as a gust of heavy wind blasted against the hull. Dark birds took flight in the distance. The molten sun peeked through the clouds and turned the world dirty gold.
“What can you possibly have that would make war against the Southern Claw go so easy for you?” Black asked.
Rake walked over to the viewport. Tension mounted in Danica’s back. The Scarecrow ’ s grip was so tight it was difficult to even turn her head.
“We have Cross,” Rake smiled.
“And? He’s kind of a pain in the ass, just so you know.”
“True,” Rake laughed, and for just a moment Black remembered being friends with the man, remembered sitting and drinking and smoking in his chamber s, talking about old jobs or battles or past loves, just two friends having a drink, laughing, pretending their lives were normal. Pretending they weren’t mass murderers. “True. But he’s also invaluable.”
“This is about the blades,” Danica nodded. “Soulrazor, and Avenger.”
“Actually,” Rake smiled. “No. It has nothing to do with that.”
Black paused. The confusion must have been plain on her face, because Rake laughed again.
“You’re smart, Dani, but you’re not that smart. Did Cross ever tell you about Koth? He’s been there, you know. On the mission that killed his sister.”
“Yes,” Danica said. “He told me about it.”
“Did he tell you how he walked right in… how they let him enter the necropolis? No other hu man has ever done that except Red, and Cross’s sister.”
Where is he going with this?
“So…what, did he see something there?”
Her mind wen t back to the conversation she and Cross had had, the night he’d told her and Kane about his experiences in Koth. He rarely liked to speak of it. His entire squad had died on that mission to track down Margrave Azazeth, “Red”, once a leader of the Southern Claw who’d turned traitor and thief. She’d stolen secrets, important secrets, and dozens of highly trained Hunters had perished hunting her down. M any resources had been squandered try ing to stop her from giving Koth…
Oh, God. The obelisk. The artifact created when Dane Knight made the sacrifice that gave humans magic.
Rake smiled. He saw the realization dawn on her face.
“It’s been lost,” he said. “It’s buried somewhere in the Carrion Rift. Nasty things are down there, Danica. Stuff that even the Ebon Cities is afraid to face, dark creatures from realms of madness. Or something like that. ” He slowly walked over to her. “But there are other ways in. And by using Cross, we can use those backdoors. He’s the key, whether he knows it or not.” Rake gently ran his fingers along the side of her face, and then roughly grabbed her chin. “And so are you, Dani.” His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper. “You see, we’re going to use a door in those ruins down there — Voth Ra’morg — to enter the Whisperlands. We won’t be the first ones to have done it. Someone is already there looking for the same thing we are. We’re going to find it by using Cross, and when we do…well…”
He stepped away.
“Well what?” Danica said, shuddering. His touch was like oil. She felt filthy from being so close to him. Once she’d found him attractive, maybe even charming, with h is roguish mannerisms and wild appearance. There was a hint of lunacy in his eyes that she’d always mistaken for genius. He was a charismatic and powerful man. But he really was insane.
“Your new pals in the Southern Claw will be in a lot of trouble,” he said. “Because Koth knows how to destroy the precious obelisk, and that means human magic will just… go away.” He turned and looked at the dark ening horizon. “Raven.”
Danica turned just in time to receive a blow to the face. The Scarecrow let Danica fall to the ground, and she landed hard on her chest. Raven stood over her and kicked her.
“Oh, Dani, one more thing,” Rake said. “The ritual to destroy the obelisk requires a mage sacrifice. A special mage. You don’t quite fit the criteria, I’m afraid…but you will. Because w e’re not done with you yet.”
Dan ica’s senses blazed with pain. She saw Raven’s boot lift and descend. Everything went dark.
Lara. Lost, and alone.
Do you?
I’m sorry.
H urt blazed across her body like wild fire. Danica woke only intermittently, long enough to realize she was in a chamber, locked deep in the iron bowels of the airsh ip.
Raven and Geist took turns beating her. Pain exploded through her head. Her vision was white and grey. Her mouth filled with hot blood.
She lost time.
Her face was bloody and raw. Whips and chains tore s trips of flesh from her back. Her limbs felt heavy. Her eyes crusted over w ith broken skin and dried blood.
Screams filled the air. It took some time for her realize they were hers. They echoed through the ship like the mewling of some simpering beast.
Her eyes gummed over with mucus. Her stomach contracted in hard waves. Fists hammered against her ribs, always in the same spot. Blood and vomit blocked her nasal cavity and ran down her throat. Her back was on fire. Her skin was swollen with bruises.
You’re not weak, she reassured herself, but she knew that she was. She’d been so desperate to compromise, to preserve what was dear to her, that she ’d sacrificed everything.
So when Geist grabbed her hair and rammed his stone-hard fist into her stomach with such force she coughed up blood, she tried not to think about finding ways to block out the pain or to escape.
She thought about all of the mistakes she’d ever made in her life. She thought about how she deserved every moment of what she was getting.
She see s Lara again. They float through a sea of inky shadow, sailors trapped in an ebon sea. The waves are strong. Their vessel takes on water and breaks apart. T hey ’ re both engulfed by the turgid waves. P ale lightning rips down from a sky covered with stone clouds.
She can’t hold on. They grab each other’s hands and try to stay together, but the sea is strong, and dark things under the surface grab them and pull them down.
Down to lightless deeps where they will forever swim in the arms of nightmares.
At som e point she woke, and she wasn’ t being beaten. Her face was a mess of blood, and her bones were broken, but even as she lay there they painfully re-knit themselves. T he wounds on her face slowly sealed. Her i nternal injuries fused closed with agonizing force. She felt things realign and crack inside her.
She was in a dimly lit room. Gath was there, along with a Scarecrow. For a moment she thought he was there to help, and that was why he’d given her back her spirit, who desperately raced to seal her crushing wounds. But as her eyes healed and she almost regained full consciousness she saw the smirk on Gath’s face.
They’re letting my spirit heal me, she realized, so that they can hurt me again.
It was foolish to dream of Lara, so she didn’t. Because she knew no matter how hard she cried or how badly she wanted Cole to be with her, it was never going to happen.
She’s gone. And she’s not coming back.
She woke looking up at the inside of a black dome.
She was no longer on the ship, but down on the ground, in the ruined city. F rozen shadow vapors weigh t ed the air. Her skin was wreathed in wet frost. Her breaths were ragged and heavy.
Danica lay on her back. She’ d been secured to a slab of icecovered granite. The dome above her was made of ice and dark stone.
Her skin was frozen. The bonds held her wrists tight. She felt her spirit, just out of reach, screaming like he was in pai n. He struggled to be free. She sensed that he wanted so desperately to help her.
She looked around, desperate. She saw Rake and Raven and Geist and two more me n she didn’t know. It took her some moments to realize they weren’t men at all, but undead.
The first was a lich. Most of t he skin had fallen from his bones, and his skeletal visage bore burning black eyes. His l ong claws gripped some sort of medallion, an ancient trinket that looked familiar.
“Mor ning, Dani,” Rake said. “Are y ou ready?”
“What the hell is going on?” she asked. Her heart hammered with fear. She couldn’t move, couldn’t call her spirit. Her mind raced to find a way out, but there wasn’t any. She felt tears on her face. “Rake…please…”
“Sorry, Dani,” he smiled, and he nodded to the second undead creature. The vampire.
It s dark hood fell back to reveal a pale face with a wide mouth. His unnaturally dark eyes were voids in his skull. S harp fangs dripp ed dark venom. He was lean and muscular and bore a vicious and toothy smile. His nearness chilled her heart.
Geist stepped up onto the slab and stood over her. The Revenger held a wide-bladed axe. The tip was so sharp Danica could almost taste its razor edge. A distorted view of her face reflected back at her in the metal.
I won’t scream, she told herself, her last defiant act. I won’t give you the satisfaction, you bastard.
“What are you going to do?” she asked grimly.
“Prepare you,” Rake said. She was surprised he ’d graced her with an answer. “ Like I told you before, we need a sacrifice to des troy the obelisk and end humanity’s reign of magic. A few years ago, the leaders of Koth planned to use Cross, because he fit the conditions perfectly. He’d lost his spirit, and then regained it. But Cross no longer has a spirit. So now we need someone else.” H e nodded for Geist to proceed.
Black knew he hadn’t really answered her question. He in no way had explained what they were about to do to her, how they would make her useful to them. She didn’t bother pointing out that without magic he and T he Revengers would be just as much at the mercy of Koth and the Ebon Cities as the Southern Claw, but she had no doubts he’d already thought of that, that he’d already planned ahead. Rake always planned ahead.
She looked up at Geist’s twisted and ugly face. The axe was massive, and his expressionless gaze was chilling.
The vampire moved closer. It smiled. Its pale and twisted face was hideous to behold. T he forehead was long and smooth and the jaw was pugnacious and wide to accommodate the rows of razor teeth.
Geist raised the axe. When she looked up again, she wasn’ t afraid. Her last thoughts weren’t of Cole, but of Cross.
I’m sorry, Eric. I’m so sorry.
The blade fla shed down quick. The pain was so intense she black ed out the instant her blood splash ed onto the vampire’s face.
Darkness.
She swims in a black sea. It’ s calm now, rigid. Lonely.
There ’s no one there with her. She’ s adrift on ebon waves in the middle of a vast nowhere, a world made of water.
S he’d loved to swim as a child. She would get in and out of the water as often as she could. She did it to escape. She couldn’t bear her family. She was nothing but meat to them, and they were just trash to her. Her mother did nothing to help. Her father was a demon. Her brother was the same, only younger.
So she swam, just as she swims now. She drifts alone. It disturb s her that there are no voices. There ’ s no one there to tell her that she ’ s safe.
It doesn’t matter. She knows she won’t be there long.
She woke in darkness.
She sees razor claws and blood, teeth filled with meat.
She sees dead cities on a frozen shore next to a black and oily sea. Blood vapors fill the sky. There are b lack ships in the bay with engines that grind bones and scour the air with pale flames.
Rows of still-standing dead bodies line up at the edge of the icy sea. The anemic corpses step one-by-one into the waters, where the howling waves consume them.
That world is dying. It has always been dead, but now it falls apart. There’ s little left.
She sees the war labs and the factories. Sees the council halls and hears the endless arguing, the grinding alien tongue that for some reason makes sense to her now. She stands there, a cold body, naked but unafraid.
She is judged by a pale council. They regard her, inspect her. Cold tongues and clammy hands run over her skin. She stands stalwart, uncaring.
What more can they do to me?
She ’ s fed. Thick and vi s cous fluid pours down her throat. She takes it. Her instinct is to cough it up, to gag on it, but she knows it sustains her, and she wants to be sustained.
She isn’t done yet.
The scars on her neck won’t heal. They ’ re ugly and jagged and they ooze thick and congealed blood that runs down her skin. The arcane tattoos on her right arm faintly glow, resistant to this dread change in her physiognomy, but after a while they fade.
They bring her b lack blood in bone goblets. She drinks it. She can’ t get her fill.
She woke in darkness.
She was thirsty. Her breath caught in her chest.
Bone needles probed her. She saw nothing but pale light.
She felt no pain, and yet knew she wasn’t whole. Something cold pressed against her shoulder, metal and frigid.
Then the pain came, and she screamed.
Ravenous claws flesh blood drink blood falling in waves collapsing fields of flesh raw explosions this world ends your world erase us not them find you found you find him we will always find you find him this world erase
She woke in darkness.
She was thirsty, and she drank. She couldn’t see what. It tasted salty and thick.
She had memories of standing in a dead city.
Whispers claw ed at her mind. For a moment she thought it was her spirit, but what she heard was a myriad of desperate calls, a choir of ghastly voices. They spoke in unison, and yet the sound was chaos. They intensified, and came faster. They scratched at her ears and tore at her nerves. There was nothing she could make of it, no true words, just hisses and curses, virulent chants, dirty foreign cackles and animal sounds. She willed them away and sat up.
Danica was in a cold room. She felt odd…out of place. The pale walls were strewn with blood. She was naked and cold and she felt the bite on her neck.
Oh, God.
She lifted her left hand — there was something wrong with her right arm, because she couldn’t feel it — and felt the wound. The scar was ragged and tender to the touch, but she felt very little pain.
They bit me. I’m a vampire.
Panic surged through her until she heard another voi ce in the distance, a desperate and plaintive cry.
It was the voice of her spirit.
Vampires don’t have spirits. The dead can’t call magic.
There was no mistaking the voice. She knew who it was. She’d grown up with him always within reach. She’d know hi m anywhere.
She stood, and felt cold metal against her skin. Danica looked down in horror.
Her right arm was gone. She vaguely recalled the axe, the blood. She remembered Geist severing it, pulling it away just moments before the Koth ian vampire, the defector, had bit ten her.
In its place was an arcane appendage: a piece of smooth and animated red steel nearly the same hue as her hair. It moved with sinuous motion. Thin curls of crimson steam emanated from her fingers when she moved them.
She fe l t nothing. The metal moved clums il y, and when she clenched her fist she could only see the motion, not sense it. She touched the appendage with her opposite hand, and was amazed at how cold it was.
Oh my God. Oh my God.
A presence was ther e in the arcane animated steel. H er spirit.
He’d been trapped, somehow. Contained. A prisoner of her false limb.
God, no. This isn’t happening.
The joint was bloody and raw. She saw where the metal had fused with her skin, where it had joined and melted with her flesh. It was seamless.
No no no no wake up, Dani, wake up, wake up.
Pain flooded her head, sudden and quick. Her gums and teeth flared to life.
She was thirsty. She wanted blood.
She fell to the floor screaming.
What have they done to me?