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“In any case,” he said, in a definitive change of subject, “you are here today to discuss the Narken.”

“We are,” said Byron Evigan. “Dear Ephram has returned to us, you see, on no other account than that pestilence which has suffused the States. As of yet, combat with them has been little more than a day-to-day tussle. We should like very much to know what you think of declaring war with them.”

“Are we not already at war?”

“Surely we are. I mean more, however, than our current defense. I mean an
offensive
strategy, which will perhaps bring us more quickly to our goal.”

“And that goal is?”

The steward laughed; but something in Balkyr’s question seemed to make him uneasy. “Why,” he said, “that goal is to eradicate the Narken.”

“To eradicate them? To destroy
all
of them, Byron – is that what you would have?”

“Why – why, yes, I suppose it is.”

“And who are you to say that all of them need killing?”

“I’m sorry, Balkyr. I don’t believe I understand you.”

“Some of the Narken,” said Balkyr, “do not wish to war with us – either with you or with me, Byron. There are peaceful sects among them, as surely you must know. They are born what they are, just like any of us. It is their own decision what to make of themselves – and some choose more wisely than others.”

“Peaceful sects!” cried Byron. “Why, I’ve never heard such –”

Ephram laid a hand on his arm, and bade him be silent. So the steward looked away, and huffed a little to himself, to clear his agitation.

“Believe me when I say, Balkyr,” began Ephram, “that I understand your reasoning. No doubt there are Narken who do not at all desire to kill us, or even to rule over us. But you know as well as I, that that percentage is small. It is but a sliver of the whole pie, if you will – and we cannot afford to go rooting among the berries, so as not to squash an unoffending one. Such a process wastes valuable time, and anyway, there is no way to go about it effectively. You see this, Balkyr?”

Balkyr said nothing.

“Take then, for example,” Ephram continued, “the epidemic which took hold, some time before we left New York. I see no way that you could not have heard of the
manner in which the Narken took up slaying humans, in an effort to move my house across the sea. Perhaps you even heard something of the symbol which they carved into their victims’ foreheads? Their new seal, apparently.”

“Since when do you concern yourself about the welfare of the human race?” asked Balkyr – and admittedly not unfairly.

“My concern is not the point. It is
your
concern I allude to. If
you
cared for the humans, as much as you make out to do with all your many restrictions on our feeding habits, then would you not be piqued by the mass murder of them?
That
is my point – you see, Balkyr?”

“No, Ephram, I do not see. I believe that you use such logic to vindicate your own wanton cruelty. This alliance between our peoples, between the Endai and the Lumaria – it has always been an uneasy one. It has always been uneasy, because we have never been able to reconcile the discrepancy between our individual bloodlusts. We shed it only when we must.
You
shed it whenever you feel the inclination.”

Byron Evigan was fairly raging, now, like a boiling kettle just about to whistle; but still Ephram was perfectly calm. He smiled in no less pleasant a manner than he had done previously.

“There may be some truth in that,” he said. “I’ll not deny it. But do you think, Balkyr, that perhaps you overemphasise my bloodlust this day – the better to rebut our proposal?”

To the surprise of all, Balkyr began to laugh. It was a hearty and earnest laugh, which ended in his reaching across the table, to press Ephram’s hand respectfully.

“Ah!” he exclaimed. “A love for your people, Ephram, I could never feign – but you; you I like. There is not another Lumarian alive today with whom I could speak so honestly, without needing fear an attempt for my head!”

“Your candour is much appreciated,” Ephram said agreeably.

“And yours, my dear fellow – and yours.”

“It is safe to assume, then, that there will be no more talk of war today?”

“Not unless it is of a solution to the whole debacle. You are right in assuming, however, that I will hear no more of extermination.”

Quite suddenly, and to the shock of everyone present, Byron Evigan slammed his fist down upon the tabletop.

“Have I no say in this matter?” he demanded. “Should I keep quiet, rather, and make myself small? You forget that I am one of the two stewards of England, and that my own opinion is of greater import here – at least until Ephram should decide to resume his Kingship, in which case he could not do so until the meeting of the Night Council in June.” He paused to collect himself (so passionately had he been speaking), and then went on, “Under no other circumstances would I take such advantage of my position – but I feel that the both of you have left me no room to turn around.”

For the first time since the beginning of the summit, Ephram appeared flabbergasted. He merely stared at Byron Evigan with wide-open eyes, seemingly at a loss for words.

“You fool,” Vaya hissed. “It is only your own stupidity which makes you compare your paltry title of steward to the greatness of my father’s Kingship. By your audacity, you make a fool of
yourself –
and leave no one the obligation of doing it for you. Your opinion is not, and never will be, of
greater import
than my father’s.”

While Anna did not necessarily approve of the steward’s outburst, still she was annoyed at yet another display of Vaya Eleria’s unwarranted pride. So she could not help herself from saying:

“It is not Ephram’s honour that you care about. You care nothing for him anymore. It would be one and the same to you, whether he or the steward ruled Drelho – so long as you were Queen.”

Valo had spoken nothing all this time; but after Anna offered this observation to Vaya, he began very cheerfully to grin. He tried, even, to catch Anna’s eye, perhaps to congratulate her silently; but quickly his countenance grew sullen, as he realised that Anna would pay him no attention. So he sat back in his seat, and began to sulk.

Vaya shot to her feet like a spring, and went for Anna’s throat; but Anna was too quick for her. They ended up some yards from the table, staring viciously at one another, crouched down and ready to lunge.

“Give me a single reason!” Vaya cried. “Give me a single reason, and I will kill you.”

“I should very much like to see you try.”

“Vaya! Anna!” Ephram shouted. “Calm yourselves! This behaviour is unacceptable.”

“I think that is enough for today,” said Balkyr, without a word or a glance for the two snarling Lumaria beside the table, which demonstrated either one way or the other his opinion of them. “I would like to speak with you in my study, Ephram, before you leave.”

“Of course.”

“Well, then! Meeting adjourned.”

This whole time, however, Dahro had been looking very closely at Anna, and frowning meditatively. He said nothing before the others; but upon Ephram’s hurrying after a furious Vaya, Valo’s trailing likewise after his father, and all the rest funnelling steadily out of the room, he drew Anna aside. It took a moment to attain her full attention, so riled was she; but finally she turned her eyes from the doorway through which Vaya had disappeared, and fixed them on Dahro.

“You remind me very much,” said he, with a most meaningful expression upon his face, “of my daughter.”

Anna narrowed her eyes at him, and searched his countenance for some hint of his purpose. Next she searched his mind; but was surprised to find that she could hear very little of his thoughts. “Your daughter?” she rejoined. “I was not aware that you had one.”

“Ah! Many are not aware of it. When I and my house came to London, you see, she chose to stay behind, with the one she loved.”

Anna forced a sneer, to camouflage the rapid turning of her mind which Dahro’s first, ostensibly innocent remark had engendered. “And her love,” she said; “why would he not have come, too? It only seems odd – for surely you know, how very dangerous a place the States have become for a lone pair of Endai.”

“Ah!” Dahro repeated. “That I do know, dear girl.”

He paused, and seemed for a moment to very seriously reflect. “The one I spoke of,” he went on, “the one she loves – she is not one of us. She is a human, you see, and does not wish to join us here.” He smiled again. “But I hear from my Nessa, you know,
from time to time. Doubtless she felt the threat of the Narken at home, and so decided to take up travelling. It was from Venice, I believe, that I received a letter last.”

“Why do you tell me all this?” Anna asked.

“Oh, I don’t rightly know,” Dahro returned. “I only say those things, you see, which it seems people ought to hear.”

“And why ought I to hear it?”

“Only you know the answer to that, dear girl.”

Again he smiled that benignant smile of his; and without another word, he withdrew from the room, leaving Anna standing puzzled beside the bright window.

XVI:

Training

 

T
hey departed the house a very short while after the end of the meeting. Ephram stayed only half an hour or so in Balkyr’s study, and emerged without a word to say pertaining to their conversation; but fixed himself between Anna and Vaya with a steady smile, and a hand ever ready to pry them apart (a task which fell to him several times, before they had even reached the door).

Somehow, both Anna and Vaya arrived back at Drelho in one piece, their hard skins having been marked only slightly by one another’s fingernails. Ephram ordered each of them to their own chambers, but said that after he had rested, he would meet first with Vaya, and then with Anna. It seemed there was something very important he wished to discuss with them; and of course they could guess what it was. Neither of them, however, was particularly eager to face their reprimands.

But, on another note – the falling out which had begun between Ephram and Byron Evigan, had not been mended by the time of their departure from Balkyr’s house. The steward – though he accompanied them to the front door, where they bade Balkyr and Dahro farewell – had failed to shift with them, and presently was nowhere to be seen. But Ephram commented merely that he would “turn up eventually,” and kept on with quite the same staid smile as he had been wearing all day. Honestly he seemed almost pleased not to have to endure the steward’s petulance, while in the questionable mood which lurked behind that same staid smile. After issuing his orders to Anna and Vaya, and bidding his son goodnight, he shooed them all immediately away from him, and shifted from the entrance hall.

And so the three lost children of Ephram stood alone in the hall, facing one another mutely. Vaya looked first to her brother, and then to Anna. Their eyes held for a long moment, with no decipherable emotions passing across either of their faces; till finally Valo took Anna by the arm, and turned with her away from the disagreeable Princess.

“Can you believe that fiend?” he demanded, as they mounted the staircase together. He shot a hateful look back at his sister, and then proceeded alongside of Anna, clutching her arm all the more tightly for his inflamed passions. But Anna hadn’t the strength to argue with him, or to shake him away.

“Oh, I detest her!” he exclaimed. “I swear, Anna, I’ve never hated anyone so much in all my life. She’s horrible! She’s wicked, and selfish, and brutal! Oh – what a fiend!”

Probably Anna could have remarked that Valo had just described
himself
to perfection. But it seemed she hadn’t the vigour for that, either.

“What will we do about her, Anna?” he persisted. “How will we rid ourselves of her?”

“Believe me, Valo,” Anna said wearily, “I would like just as much as you to know the answer to that question. But I’m afraid that, at present, it’s somewhat out of our reach.”

“What do you mean? Surely we can come to some sort of solution, together.”

“Neither solitarily nor jointly, Valo, can we attempt something which Ephram does not desire. Whatever reservations he may have had, at first, are gone now. He will take Vaya to the Night Council, and beseech her reinstatement to Drelho. You know this.”

“I
don’t
know it! I refuse to accept it! Come, Anna, please – do think! How can we get her out of his favour, between now and June?”

“Seeing as it is the end of April – I would say that the chances of it are very slim.”

“Oh, Anna! You’re not even trying.”

“I would try, Valo,” said Anna, through clenched teeth, “if I thought that there was anything to be gained by my efforts. However, since I do not – I think I will go to bed now.”

“Oh, don’t go, Anna. I’m too angry to be alone. Who knows what I’ll do!”

“I suppose we shall find out,” Anna returned sourly.

She turned away from him, and went on her way to her chamber. He stood for a long while, in the dark, looking after her; but finally shook himself, and, fuming once more, took himself off to some place where he might find himself able to skewer something with a freshly-sharpened sword.

 

~

 

True to his word, Ephram called to Anna and Vaya just as soon as he had risen from his long sleep. He spoke to them separately, but offered nearly the same speech in either conversation.

It went something like this.

“I have been aware, for weeks now, of a certain tension between the two of you. You seem to despise each other wholeheartedly, partly for reasons which I of course can understand – but partly for those which I cannot even attempt to fathom. Your outburst before the Endai was, by all measures, inexcusable. And yet, since I am a fair and patient father, I
will
excuse you. That is – I will excuse you once, and for this instance only. Should you fail to conduct yourselves more peaceably in future, the repercussions will be severe. Do you understand?”

Each nodded grudgingly here.

“In an endeavour to help facilitate this peace,” Ephram went on, “I hereby order you both to begin training with one another.” (To Vaya): “You will show Anna something of the old ways – that ancient mode of battle which even I cannot teach her, quite so well as you.” (To Anna): “You will instruct Vaya in the usage of modern weapons. In the fight against the wolves, she shall require a knowledge of our entire arsenal.”

He cast a cutting look into each of their faces, and repeated, “Do you understand?”

Again, each offered a sulky nod.

 

~

 

That very night, Anna (by far the most talented soldier of her young generation) and Vaya (unequivocally the most gifted warrior of her own) met in the weapons hall, off the West-hand corridor of the first floor. They nodded sullenly to one another outside the door to the hall, just in the case that someone should pass them by as they were entering. But when they had gained the great chamber, and shut themselves in, they abandoned all form of politeness, and fell to conversing in short growls and barks.

Anna asked whether Vaya would like to begin with an introduction to some of the more common weapons; but Vaya shook her head impatiently, and insisted that they start with a match.

“With a what?” returned Anna, in surly tones.

“A match, you fool! We shall have a go at one another, according to our own methods – and the winner will choose their own way to proceed. Don’t you know anything?”

“Call me a fool once more,” said Anna, “and we shall be facing Ephram’s repercussions much sooner than either of us would have liked.”

“Perhaps that would be best. I see no use, after all, in delaying the inevitable.”

Anna said no more, but merely set her face in grim expectation, and planted herself determinately before her opponent.

Thus the sparring began. But, much as they seemed to hate one another, the experiment was anything but constructive. Vaya spent her time trying to injure Anna, quite as much as she
could
be injured; and Anna was rather more occupied with trying to ward her off, than with gleaning any positive effects from their session.

Though Vaya would not consent to any lessons that day, she suggested a sword-fight to wrap up the evening. She took up her own sword, which had lain for centuries in a glass case by the door. It was in nearly impeccable condition, due to the tender ministrations of the moony Filipovic.

“Well, go on!” she said. “Get yourself a sword.”

Anna armed herself with the sharpest blade she could find, and readied herself for a cruel onslaught. It came with little prelude.

Vaya rushed her headlong; disappeared for an instant; showed herself again in a place some ten feet off, and approached from that new location. Anna, who had not been expecting such a trick, was pierced directly through her thigh. She fell, and heard Vaya’s sword-point (which was protruding from the back of her leg) strike against the floor.

“You – you horrible wench!” she cried vehemently, as she began trying to work the sword from her flesh, without cracking the bone. She winced with the fire that had started up in her thigh, and stared daggers at Vaya.

“Don’t blame me for your ineptitude,” said Vaya. “You should have been prepared.”

“We’re only training! Why would you go and pull such a rotten move as that?”

“We are training for war with the wolves,” Vaya answered blandly. “Do you think that
they
will hesitate, to pull such a rotten move as that?”

“I would wager not, seeing as they cannot
shift,
you raging bitch!”

Vaya wrenched the sword from Anna’s leg (taking little care as she did so, and thus snapping the femur which Anna had been attempting to keep intact). Anna cried out with the sudden pain; but was quieted by the shock of Vaya’s pressing the sword-point to her throat.

“Hold your tongue, cretin,” Vaya spat. “Say another word I dislike, and I will drive this sword home.”

“If you intend to do it,” said Anna, “then I urge you to cut straight through – otherwise you shall find your own head in grave jeopardy. There will be no waking you a second time, once I’m done with you.”

Vaya bared her teeth at this, in something of a savage smile, which seemed almost her way of saying
touché
.

“My head!” she exclaimed. “Oh – pray be a little more original than
that!
Confine me with an Aera, why don’t you, and set my chamber afire! Or better yet – perhaps you might keep me there, and watch me starve. You could pull up a chair, as King Tabor used to do, and require no additional entertainment for long weeks. No? You don’t like that? Well! Pierce my heart again, Anna von Wessen – and don’t wake me this time!”

She removed the threat of her sword, and holstered it in the scabbard which she had strapped to her belt. But she followed by hurrying from the chamber, without a single additional attention paid to Anna, who was lying on the floor, with her right leg sprawled nearly in the shape of an
L.

Anna knew that she should go immediately in search of Teo, the castle’s mender; but she was distracted from this errand, when she looked down at her leg, and observed a strangely-coloured substance oozing from the split in the skin. It was of a dark red shade nearly brown, with thin veins of white running through it. Its consistency was that of thick powder, made sticky with a mucous substance which felt almost like glue. Anna pressed her fingers to the wound, and then rubbed them together, in an attempt to ascertain the nature of the brown-white secretion. It was her first inclination to go to Ephram; but some small shadow crept over this idea, and rendered it moot. She wanted not for anyone else to see the stuff, before
she
had figured out just what it was.

She put her fingers under her nose; but there was no odour to the brown slime. Next she took hold of both sides of her thigh, and pressed against them roughly, till she heard the two halves of the bone click together. When they were once again of a single entity, she noticed that the flow of the slime decreased, almost to the point of stanching itself. But its dissipation did not diminish the concern which had been engendered by its presence; and as she hobbled slowly into the corridor to test the functionality of the injured limb, she found that the shadow over her mind, which had been small enough at first, was now grown much larger.

Perhaps this shadow was the cause – or more likely it had only to do with Vaya’s earlier monologue on the subject – for her dreams that night were filled with death.

There could be no better time than this, we think, to better explain the ways in which a Lumarian can be killed. You know well enough already that their heads can be removed, and that their hearts can be skewered; and that the latter manner of death is the only one, for them, which can be reversed. But also, as Vaya said, they can be starved – quite like any other “living” creature.

There is, however, an exception to this rule. When a Lumarian is in a comatose state, or when their heart has been pierced as Vaya’s was, food is not required to fuel a body which is not functioning; and therefore they can lie in this way for any number of centuries, or even millennia, without truly perishing.

We told you before, that water can prove their enemy – but so can fire. Perhaps one would think that, because they are born of flame, they are immune to it; but this is not the case. One might compare this ironical principle to that of their creator. Satan was born of Heaven; but at present it is his greatest foe, and is the only element which can
smite him. It is plausible that he wished for his dark children to understand this pain. Maybe he wished to be able to laugh at them, too, when finally they arrived in his dominion: to laugh in their faces, as the flames seared them forever.

Anna dreamt, then, of all these things. She felt the separation of her head; she felt the stake through her heart. She felt the burning hunger which came to claim her; the mighty walls of the sea which came to close upon her; and the stinging flames which came to lick her skin. These last, however, seemed most terrible – for even after she was certain she was dead, and beyond all possibility of aid, the flames did not leave her. She was surrounded all the hours of the night by raging, horrid fire, which danced mockingly like an unending pyre, and promised never to set her free.

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