Alchemy of Blood
That’s all. It’s done. The verdict was passed. It took a huge effort for Selene to keep her face calm. She was afraid that any movement or word could destroy her. So she just continued to stare at the Prince in silence.
“Believe me, this decision was very difficult for me,” he said. “Many years ago, you asked for my protection, and in return, you served the clan faithfully. You’ve always been loyal to me. But right now, I can’t change anything. I’m sorry, Selene. I hope you understand.”
Selene understood. Victor had been searching for centuries for a way to influence Adrian, and it seemed that he had finally found it. Whatever it was, Selene believed that if the Prince had had the chance to keep his word, he would have done it.
Adrian looked at her dejectedly, waiting for her to say something. But Selene only found the strength to bow her head respectfully, indicating that she accepted his decision. Greg and Thomas looked down at the floor, and Maria was grinning with glee.
There was an eerie silence in the room, broken only by the ominous clink of Greg’s handcuffs. He slid his hands behind Selene’s back, closing the heavy gold bracelets with the image of the falcon of Horus around her wrists. A chill ran through her body, and her muscles loosened. Thomas came over and joined Greg in taking Selene by the elbows as they headed out of the hall. Neither of them dared to meet her eyes. Maria trotted ahead impatiently.
When the guards opened the doors for them, Selene turned to the Prince over her shoulder and asked, “What will happen to the prisoner?”
He seemed to be prepared for any words, but this question clearly caught him off guard.
“Lucan declared him a traitor, and traitors are known to be executed.”
Selene said nothing and turned away. They led her out of the hall, and the doors slammed shut behind them.
***
Selene spent the entire time trying to collect her thoughts as they descended into the dungeon. Uneasy premonitions gripped her heart, and the magic of the handcuffs resisted fiercely, refusing to yield to her efforts. But the girl did not give up, knowing that there was no time to think. Outwardly, she was unperturbed, but inside, a quiet storm was brewing.
Their procession stopped in front of the cell door. On its metal surface was a winged sun disk – an ancient symbol of the sun god, designed to protect against evil. So the legend that vampires couldn’t enter a house uninvited was partly true. Selene felt that if she crossed the threshold, she would lose her freedom forever. If the Prince was willing to sacrifice her, Selene wasn’t.
The moment Maria opened the door, Selene mustered the last of her strength, forcing the magic of the handcuffs to retreat in front of her. The golden bracelets opened with a loud clang and fell to the stone floor. She felt a surge of strength and a slight tingling sensation all over her body.
Greg and Thomas were distracted by an unexpected sound. Selene ducked and summoned her daggers with a sharp flick of her wrists. In an instant, she severed the tendons under men’s knees, and their bodies collapsed to the floor at the same time. Taking advantage of the guardians’ weakness, Selene pushed them into the cell and locked the door. This would buy her a little time before someone showed up and freed them.
Meanwhile, Maria was already rushing to the exit, realizing that she could not compete with Selene, since she always trusted her gift more than her physical strength.
Selene decided not to waste time chasing Maria and not to try to stop her from raising the alarm. She knew that the security cameras had already recorded everything that had happened. Instead, she hurried to Sol’s cell.
As she flitted her slender fingers across the panel and punched in the access code, Selene prayed that security wouldn’t change it. To her relief, a beep sounded and the green light turned on. Abruptly, she flung open the door, burst into the cramped, dank cell, and without another word began to free Sol from his shackles.
“What’s all that noise? What are you doing?” he asked, frowning up at her.
“Saving us,” Selene said, using her silver dagger to cut through the wolf’s shackles, sending out a shower of sparks. “Help me out, and I’ll explain the rest when we’re safe. In the meantime, sit tight.”
She crouched down in front of Sol and placed her hands on the silver hoop that encircled his broad neck. Sol didn’t resist, watching her movements carefully, his golden eyes searching her face. Selene summoned her gift and channeled it into the power contained in the collar, just as she had done with the handcuffs before. This time the task was much easier: the restraining magic yielded almost effortlessly, and Tyr’s bindruna flashed with a dazzling silver light, then faded away, opening the collar. Sol breathed a sigh of relief and rose to his full height, stretching his arms and neck. It was much taller than Selene had expected, and she was struck by its power. She felt especially small next to him.
“That’s better, thank you, fagr,” the werewolf boomed, crunching his neck in satisfaction.
Selene smiled wryly, “Come on, we need to hurry.”
They hurried out of the dungeon, passing sliding doors that weren’t locked. Apparently, the guards were waiting for them at the top, not wanting to engage in battle in such a tight space.
As they waited for the elevator, Sol ventured, “You still haven’t told me your name.”
“Selene,” she said.
“Selene,” Sol repeated with a wistful smile, as if tasting her name. “It suits you.”
Before she could answer, there was a slight clink and the gleaming elevator doors slid open. The cabin was empty, just as they’d expected. Selene and Sol went inside.
On the way upstairs, Selene secretly texted Frey, glad that her phone hadn’t been taken away. There was only one word in the message: “It’s time.”
Moments before the elevator reached the desired floor, Selene and Sol prepared for battle. Selene clutched the silver daggers in her hands, and Sol made a smooth gesture with his right hand with the ring. Immediately, a dazzling golden sword materialized in it, patterned runes adorning its blade and hilt.
However, when the elevator doors finally opened, there wasn’t a soul outside.
Chapter 7
The dark marble corridors were filled with tense silence. Selene’s sensitive ears picked up only the steady, powerful beat of Sol’s heart. They stepped carefully and silently on the polished floor, trying not to make a single sound, while simultaneously disabling the security cameras.
At the next bend, Sol suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. Selene followed suit and immediately caught a familiar scent. A flash of golden light came around the corner and shot towards them. After a moment, the big blue eyes and tousled hair that Selene knew so well appeared in front of them. Sol hurried to cover Selene, putting her behind his back with his left hand. A blow from a fae blade (the one from the library) left a deep scarlet streak on his forearm.
The werewolf only growled slightly in pain and was about to attack back, but Selene stopped him by holding his shoulder, “Don’t do that. I’ll handle it myself.”
Without taking his menacing gaze off Chacey, Sol let Selene go ahead.
“Don’t be silly, Chacey,” Selene said softly. “Just let us pass.”
Selene noticed how restlessly the girl’s eyes were moving and how uncertainly she held the blade in front of her. She was clearly scared, and Selene decided to take advantage of it.
“Come on, you know you can’t beat us,” Selene said, hiding the daggers and raising her hands in a conciliatory gesture. “I mean you no harm. Just let us pass and you won’t get hurt, I promise.”
The former student just shook her head. Her chin was trembling, and there were tears in her eyes that she tried unsuccessfully to hold back.
Selene sighed, “You don’t need it.”
“It’s not up to you to decide what I need and what I don’t need!” Chacey exclaimed, her voice shaking. “You almost killed me, but now I’m going to prove to you and everyone else that I’m not afraid! Perhaps then the Prince will pay attention to me!”
The girl lunged at Selene, raising the blade above her head and intending to pierce her former mentor’s heart with it. However, her attack was too clumsy. Selene easily dodged the attack and went behind her opponent’s back.
Sol started to intervene, but Selene waved him back.
Chacey, whose cheeks were wet with tears, turned around and continued to attack. Her attacks were awkward, and Selene managed to parry them easily.
The girl’s face twisted into a grimace of rage. In a fit of impotent anger, she raised the blade again, aiming for Selene’s chest. However, Selene caught her hand and twisted her wrist, causing Chacey to unclench her fingers and drop the weapon. Selene then kneed her in the stomach, causing the girl to double over and fall to all fours.
Picking up the golden blade from the floor, Selene said, “That’s enough, Chacey. Calm down.”
The young vampire was sobbing on all fours, not looking up. At that moment, Selene felt sorry for her. She really meant her no harm. Chacey was just as vulnerable as Selene had once been. Suddenly, the sobs turned into a wild cat squeal, and Chacey leapt at her mentor. Selene instantly grouped up and drew a golden arc in the air with the blade. There was the sickening sound of a head hitting the marble floor. The body collapsed after him. The smooth glossy walls and gilt-framed paintings were stained with crimson splashes.
Selene couldn’t take her eyes off Chacey’s lifeless eyes. They looked at her reproachfully. Those big blue eyes seemed to be forever frozen in their sadness.
“I’m sorry,” Selene whispered, and plunged the point into the poor girl’s heart.
The fae blade rang happily as it received its portion of blood. Selene tossed it aside in disgust.
Sol walked over to her and gently pulled her along, “Come on, Selene,” he said. “We need to move on.”
The girl nodded and followed him down the echoing corridor. They reached the wide archway that led to the castle courtyard. Stepping carefully on the stone slabs, they looked around. The courtyard was eerily silent. The heavy wrought-iron doors of the palace’s main entrance were visible across from them, but their destination was not this one, but a modest side passage in the eastern part of the building leading to a small pier. There, Selene hoped, Frey would be waiting for them. She silently prayed that nothing would happen to him and that no one would get to him.
The deafening sound of pistol bolts clicking cut through the silence. Pistol barrels were pointed at them from the windows of all three floors of the palace. The guards surrounded Selene and Sol, forcing them to the center of the courtyard, where they were clearly visible.
Selene, trying to keep her cool, quickly assessed the situation. Just as she’d expected, every step they took to the side threatened to turn into a bullet in the heart. The parapets were empty, but as soon as they both moved, they would be fired upon.
Selene knew that the guards wouldn’t kill her – Victor needed her alive. But Sol’s fate was sealed. As she desperately searched for a way to escape, Sol slowly raised his hand and closed his eyes. At the same time, Selene felt the air around them tremble with an invisible force. The thinnest golden veil covered all the openings and exits, swaying in the ghostly wind.
The guards froze in confusion for a few seconds, but then they tried to break through the barrier. However, it turned out to be strong and withstood several blows and a short burst of shots. Realizing that they were cut off from their target, the guards began to attack the barrier even more fiercely.
“Get up there!” Sol commanded through gritted teeth, barely holding the barrier.
“What about you?” Selene asked.
“I’ll follow you, come on!”
And she deftly climbed up the plastered brick wall to the roof, looking around to see if Sol was following her. He kept up, closing the distance with confident and powerful jerks. His injured arm was making itself felt, and the werewolf winced with pain every time he leaned on it. They quickly scaled the parapet and headed for the east side of the palace, where they planned to reach Frey.
Despite Sol’s efforts, the barrier was getting weaker, and Selene could already hear the approaching pursuit. When she reached the right spot, she leaned over the carved railing and peered down. Fortunately, the sun was hidden behind clouds that day, saving her the trouble of hiding her eyes behind her glasses. Below, wedged between two damp walls, the boats bobbed peacefully, completely indistinguishable from each other and gently bumping their sides against the dock. Selene quickly looked for the right boat with the inscription “White Rose” on the starboard side and broke into a satisfied smile. At first glance, the boat seemed empty, but Selene knew that this was a deceptive impression.
They were about to jump down onto the dock when a gunshot rang out behind them. Selene felt a sharp pain in her left shoulder. She gave a small cry and automatically clutched at the wound. Sol, who had already climbed over the fence, wanted to help her, but Selene shook her head. She forced herself to ignore the pain and climbed over after him.
They jumped three stories down onto the wooden planks of the dock. Then they climbed into the motorboat that Selene pointed out. At the same time, Frey materialized out of thin air and appeared at their side.
“Who’s that?” the mage asked, looking at Sol in surprise.
“Not now. Start the engine!” Selene blurted out, noticing that the guards were already aiming in their direction.
The engine roared, and the boat sped like a white arrow through the narrow channels, leaving the roar of gunfire behind.
Chapter 8
Their pursuit continued, turning into a race through the cramped streets of Venice. The boats maneuvered between buildings, skimming under low-hanging bridges to the surprise of onlookers. Finally, Frey steered their small craft out into the Grand Canal, where he accelerated, drawing them farther away from their pursuers.
Selene and Sol were constantly watching the approaching black speedboats, which were rapidly closing the distance. Suddenly, as if by ill will, the sky darkened, gathering into thunderclouds that absorbed the white light of day. The refreshing wind, laced with ozone, increased, dispelling the sweltering heat. The emerald waters of the canal rippled, heralding a storm.
People hurriedly left the streets, closing windows and doors, saving everything that could be saved from the impending disaster. A deafening rumble shook the city as crimson lightning streaked through the black sky, illuminating the entire space with infernal light. A downpour followed it, turning everything around her into a cacophony of howling wind, lashing water, and thunder.
Selene realized that the Prince, not wanting to let them go, was ready to unleash all his power on the city, plunging it into the abyss of chaos. Despite the heavy rain, the three of them continued on their way, fighting the violent pitching. The storm was raging, the sea was boiling, mercilessly smashing boats and gondolas, dragging everything that came in the way, into the depths of the sea.
Frey, gripping the wheel tightly, somehow managed to keep his balance and steer the boat. His blond hair was plastered to his face, and his glowing green eyes were fixed forward as if he was looking for something important.
“What’s he up to?” Sol shouted, trying to get over the noise of the storm.
Selene didn’t answer, because at that moment Frey turned the steering wheel sharply, and fog enveloped them, and the world and all sounds disappeared.
***
A thick milky veil covered everything, swallowing up sounds like a bottomless void. When the veil lifted slightly, it became possible to distinguish each other. Their ears were still buzzing, as if they were covered with cotton wool, but through it came the soft lapping of the waves and the muffled hum of the boat’s engine. Time itself seemed frozen in the dim light of eternal dawn, stopped on the threshold between sunset and sundown. After the chaotic storm, such serenity was disconcerting.
“Where are we?” Sol asked, looking around in confusion. His voice was muffled, as if coming from behind a closed door.
“On the fae trails,” Frey said. He kept his eyes fixed on the space ahead, guiding them along paths that only he knew.
“We could be trapped if we don’t find a way out soon,” Sol said anxiously.
The fae trails were dangerous to everyone but the Fae themselves. They used these trails for instant travel around the world and to their realm on Avalon9. Many travelers, whether through carelessness or malice, set foot on these paths, disappeared forever. The few who managed to find their way back would return to their native lands, finding that centuries had passed since their absence, for time in these ephemeral lands flowed according to its own incomprehensible laws.
“Don’t worry, he knows what he’s doing,” Selene reassured the werewolf, wringing out her long, damp hair.
Sol just gave Frey a dark look of doubt and disbelief.
“He saved the life of a fae once, who taught him to walk their trails in gratitude,” the girl explained.
Sol raised his eyebrows. After all, fae and witches fought a long and bloody war centuries ago. As a result of this conflict, the fae were forced to hide on the island of Avalon, becoming rare visitors to the human world. Despite the fact that war was a thing of the past, feuds between fae and witches still lingered unseen among their peoples.
“Why don’t you tell me what happened?” Sol asked.
Selene told him everything from the Prince’s request to interrogate Sol to their escape from the city. Frey’s frown deepened as she talked about Victor.
“But how did you know I wouldn’t try to attack when you decided to free me?” the wolf asked, narrowing his eyes slyly.
“I decided to take the risk, because it was in our mutual best interests to get out, and the two of us had a better chance of escaping,” Selene shrugged and immediately grimaced.
The movement sent a sharp pain through her shoulder. The stuck bullet, which Selene had forgotten about for a while, stirred inside. She felt the wound carefully through the thick fabric of her black jacket, and her fingers turned scarlet.
“This costume is ruined,” the girl clicked her tongue.
Selene bared her injured shoulder and pulled out the bag of blood that Frey had taken the precaution of carrying. As she took a few sips through the tube, she felt the life-giving moisture coursing through her veins, filling every cell with strength. Her shoulder itched, and the healing tissue finally pushed the bullet out. The wound instantly healed, leaving not the slightest trace. Sol picked up the bullet from the bottom of the boat and examined it carefully.
“Aspen,” he said thoughtfully, twirling the piece of wood between his fingers. “You obviously weren’t meant to be killed.”
Selene felt Frey tense up.
“Yes, otherwise they would have shot gold,” she said.
Another pall of thick fog enveloped them, temporarily knocking them senseless. But it quickly dissipated, and the world was once again filled with sounds and colors. They were out on the open sea, under the cold light of the waxing moon and stars. The night had already passed in its chariot, covering the firmament with a gloomy veil. The setting sun left only a thin streak of golden-purple light on the horizon.
“You should do something about it, too,” Selene said, pointing to the long gash on Sol’s arm that stubbornly refused to heal.
“It’s just a scratch,” he said.
“We don’t have any hearts with us,” Selene warned.
She knew that, like vampires who need blood to survive, werewolves must feed on the hearts of other creatures. The exact reason for this was unknown, but legend had it that the hearts were a favorite treat of the mythical Fenrir wolf, whom the werewolves revered as their god and progenitor.
Frey stopped the boat and turned off the engine.
“I can help,” he offered.
Sol reluctantly held out his injured hand, and the druid carefully felt and examined it. Then he took out one of his travel bags and began sorting through the bottles and bottles of powders and herbs, searching for the necessary ingredients.
While her friend was doing the healing, Selene took out an ancient coin from an inner pocket, darkened with age. On one side of the coin was an image of the Aztec god Yakatekutli, and on the other – a crossroads. In the distant past, travelers made blood sacrifices to this deity, asking him to show them the right path. Selene gripped the cold metal with her bloodied fingers and hoped that this small offering would be enough to point the way for her old friend.
Chapter 9. The Port of Bristol, England, 1695
“Selene, are you sure?” Frey asked, looking doubtfully at the pirate brig bobbing in the dark water.
Its red lacquered sides glistened in the streetlamp light. In the velvet darkness of the night, the ship looked soaked in blood. The black sails were furled and blended in with the shadows dancing on the waves. The nose figure in the form of a dragon’s head threateningly opened its mouth, ready, it seemed, to spew hellfire.
“We don’t have many options, and they certainly won’t ask questions here,” Selene said.
“I don’t want to let you go alone in case something goes wrong,” Frey said anxiously.
Selene smiled and patted her friend’s silky hair, “Go get some supplies for the road now, and meet me here later.”
Frey sighed and, with one last incredulous glance at the pirate ship, headed towards the tavern, where loud voices, music, and drunken laughter could be heard.
Selene headed for the ship. The deck was almost empty, and most of the crew must have been partying in the tavern. The girl saw only a few sailors on board, busy loading barrels and crates. The process was led by a man wearing a gray-green fishskin vest over his naked body. His blond hair, tied back in a ponytail, contrasted with his weather-beaten, tanned face.
Selene decided to approach him.
“Good evening, sir,” she said to the man. “Can you tell me where I can find the captain?”
He turned to her, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. A mother-of-pearl seashell bobbed in his left ear. His yellow-green eyes looked strange to her: the light from the streetlights reflected off the rims that encircled his dark pupils. He smelled of sea salt and fish scales. The pirate chewed thoughtfully on a toothpick, a frown creasing the corners of his eyes.
“The captain is in his cabin, but I’m afraid he’s not in the mood for girls right now,” the man said, running his eyes appreciatively over her figure and slender waist, which was encased in a black leather corset.
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Примечания
1
Good evening (Italian).
2
Hello (Italian).
3
Founded in 1310, it is a body designed to protect the political and social power of the Republic of Venice.
4
Imbolc (Saint Brigitte’s Day) is a Celtic spring festival, one of the festivals of the Wheel of the Year, celebrated on the night of February 1—2.
5
In Celtic mythology, it is a taboo prohibition, the violation of which entails death on the night of Samhain.
6
Ancient Egyptian god of magic.
7
Beauty (Old Norse).
8
Dog, hunting dog (Ancient Egyptian).
9
In Celtic mythology, it is a mythical island, a land of eternal youth and abundance.
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