The Dark Arts of Blood (53 page)

“This is preposterous,” said Charlotte. “I’m sorry, that was an appalling understatement, but I don’t know what to say. Who would do this?”

Violette was motionless, like an image of herself frozen on the air. “I don’t know, but I believe it’s connected to the skull-creature who’s been watching me for weeks. Fadiya must be working for him, her, or it – I don’t know what this means, but
they
knew the perfect way to lure me to them: take Emil! Apparently they want
me
in exchange for him. ‘Furious’ doesn’t begin to describe what I feel.”

“But you’re going anyway?”

“I must.”

“You’d walk into a trap set by strangers? For Emil?”

“Darling, I’d do the same for any of my dancers. I’d do it for the boy who washes the pots.”

“Of course,” Charlotte said softly. Violette had once run into a burning building to save her dancers.

“No one harms my company. That is my weak spot, I know, but that’s the way of things. Will you come with me?”

“You don’t think I’d let you go alone?”

As soon as she’d uttered the words, Charlotte remembered all the complications. Stefan. Reiniger. Amy.

“What?” said Violette, eyes narrowing. “You’re hesitating. I need you to bring Emil safely home, because I may not be able to.”

“I’m afraid to leave Stefan, and…”

“Surely Karl can look after him?”

“It’s not that simple. Godric Reiniger might be connected with this, and there’s a chance he’s become a monster of some kind – not a vampire, but worse – and his niece is in your apartment…”

“I do not have time for this! Charlotte, if you won’t come with me, that’s your decision. I’ll go alone. I’d love to know every detail, as much as I’d love to know why you were in my room staring over my shoulder, moments before this letter arrived, but it will have to wait.”

“I wasn’t in your room,” Charlotte answered.
Not again
, she thought in dismay.
Violette’s seeing my lamia, too?

“Then I was imagining things. Never mind. I am going to feed upon some poor soul and then, once my strength is renewed, I’m going to this rendezvous with ‘Nabil’. Wish me luck.”

Her voice was very calm and low.

“No need,” said Charlotte. “I’ll be with you. As I said, I can’t let you go alone.”

T
he heat and the blinding force of the sun overwhelmed Charlotte. She blinked at dazzling white buildings rising from the port. Algiers was brighter and livelier than anything she’d imagined. Thrilling, in all its exotic commotion.

Vampires could tolerate daylight, but for the first time she feared she might actually go up in flames.

So busy, thronging with Berbers and Arabs and tourists and workers… In their salt-white pomposity, the great buildings were overwhelming, too much for their setting and almost ugly. She wanted to see the real Algeria, the ancient city hidden behind the new.

“Come on,” said Violette, “We have nearly two hours. We’ll go to market and buy some local clothing – I bought a djellaba yesterday, and left it behind when I went home – but it will be easy enough to retrieve it. I made friends with a stallholder who couldn’t have been more obliging. The only difficulty is escaping, because he loves to talk and talk. Just be your charming self while I make the deal. Then we’ll be ready. And when this Nabil appears to meet me, you must hang back and conceal yourself, since I’m supposed to meet him alone.”

“I’ll follow you,” said Charlotte, trying to smile in hopes of feeling braver. “Your invisible bodyguard, dearest.”

They made their way uphill through the bustling streets, half in the Crystal Ring to avoid curious stares. Their trip through Raqia had been the wildest Charlotte had ever known. Violette, holding her hand, had dragged her through the firmament at breath-taking speed as they arced over the Mediterranean towards the North African coast. Charlotte hadn’t yet shaken off the mix of exhilaration and horror. She had felt like a leaf carried on a hurricane.

The souk was thick with people, both locals and tourists. Animal smells, perfumes, vegetables, spices, the stink of cured leather – a multitude of odours engulfed her and she wanted to stop in her tracks, close her eyes and take in everything, identifying each scent, savouring the heat of blood that lay beneath everything else… to select the perfect victim. A young woman caught her eye, as lovely as Fadiya, carrying a basket full of fruit and herbs. A brown-skinned boy, lithe as a gazelle. An English visitor, lobster-red from the sun, haggling in a loud slow voice as if shouting would help the trader to understand his language…

“Charlotte,” whispered Violette, pulling her inside a clothes stall, a small forest of coloured fabrics. “Concentrate! If you’re thirsty, there will be time later.”

“No, I’m not. But there’s so much to see…”

The stallholder – a lanky man with leather-brown skin and lively, kind eyes – flattered them with attention, plainly thrilled to see Violette again and eager to provide perfect outfits. When he named a price, Violette casually paid him double: the opposite of his usual expectations, judging by his wide smile.

It would have been easy to sneak some blood from his veins, but Charlotte resisted.

Soon they were covered in long, layered creamy robes, with head cloths to veil their hair, tough sandals for treading the sandy ground.

“Now we separate,” Violette said softly as they walked out into the white-hot street. “Can you sense any vampires nearby?”

“No one,” said Charlotte. “That doesn’t mean there aren’t any.”

“I know. I’m worried that someone’s already watching us, but we have to take the chance. You know where we’re going? Stay behind me, at least two hundred yards back.”

“Don’t worry,” Charlotte answered. “You won’t see me, but I’ll be there.”

Karl hadn’t been happy at her going with Violette, but he had understood. Charlotte was always grateful for his common sense. However much he might wish to protect her, he knew she was strong, and that he could not always keep her out of danger.

They could have swapped places, but that would have meant Charlotte staying with Stefan and Amy, and facing a potential visit from the unpredictable Godric Reiniger. And Karl hadn’t regained enough strength to enter Raqia, let alone make the long, breakneck journey with Violette.

After a discussion –
not an argument, never that
, she thought with a private smile – she and Karl had reached the most practical decision.

At times like this, she wished they had more friends – but even those closest to them, such as Pierre and Ilona, were hardly the most reliable allies.

Some distance ahead, Violette walked into a public square: a white and golden space, with a charming fountain and palm trees grouped on the far side. In the shade of their fanned leaves, a man stood waiting. He was all in blue, no flesh visible except around his eyes. His skin was like ebony.

Charlotte hung back, hoping he hadn’t seen her. More importantly, that he could not
sense
her. She heard their voices, far off but clear.

“
Istilqa?
” said Violette.

“
Istilqa
,” he echoed. “I am Nabil. I will take you to Emil.”

“Where’s Fadiya?”

“With him.”

“Can you show any proof that you have him?”

Nabil looked irritated that she asked, but produced a white shirt from the folds of his robe. Charlotte watched with her heart in her throat as Violette lifted the garment to her nose. She would distinguish his scent as keenly as a hound. The man gave her something else, too: a small gold item. A cufflink?

Violette had given all her male dancers cufflinks inscribed with
Ballet Lenoir
as gifts last Christmas. Her face, in profile, turned to limestone as Charlotte saw the reality of the situation hit her. Fury and fear.

“Is he here in the town?”

Nabil shook his head. “Out in the desert, beyond Djelfa. We’ll go through the Crystal Ring.”

“Wait. Do you swear that you’ll release him in exchange for me?”

“That is the promise made by Zruvan, Lord of Immortals. Yes, he will keep his word.”

“He had better,” Violette said with soft menace. “If he does not, this ‘Lord’ of yours will be sorrier than he can imagine.”

Nabil stayed impassive. “Come with me.” He paused: for a frightening moment, Charlotte thought he’d seen her, but he seemed to be checking for danger without actually noticing her.

There were people around, but no one saw Nabil and Violette vanish into Raqia. Charlotte gave them two seconds: she daren’t wait longer, in case she lost them. Then she followed. The world changed, becoming a dim and eerie version of itself. Humans turned into fireflies, only their auras visible. All normal sound stopped. As Charlotte began to climb through the ether, a low, hissing moan filled her ears, like the wind moving over desert sands.

* * *

Violette and her companion travelled miles to the south, a journey that would have taken many hours in a motor vehicle. They flew low. Distorted through the medium of the ether, she saw the extraordinary landscape below: sandstone mountains shaped like fantastical pillars and spires, dyed purple and red by the sinking sun. There were deep violet chasms. Salt flats. Stretches of sand marked by giant black circles: the remains of spent volcanoes.

Violette caught a clear view of their destination only when they dropped out of the Crystal Ring. They were in the open desert, a sweep of orange rock and sand that spread to the horizon in every direction.

A thrill went through her. She’d always felt drawn to desert places. This was the clean wilderness where she could be free… a memory from Lilith’s past, not her own, but still powerful. Her soul was entwined with that of Lilith, a wild spirit who had fled to the desert rather than submit to the will of men or God.

She saw a ruined fortress, worn away by sandstorms for hundreds of years. The shell of jagged walls was sinking back into the desert, all features worn away, nothing inside but swirling sand. Curving around the ruins were rock walls striped with red and gold layers, glowing as the sun set. The rock faces were pocked with caves.

All this she took in as they glided in from above and landed on the sand, light-footed as birds.

“Where are we?”

“We call it Al Bir,” said Nabil. “It no longer appears on any map.”

“And is there water here? I mean for Emil. Humans can’t survive on air alone.”

He pointed at the ground. “A river runs deep below. There are wells. We are looking after Emil; we don’t wish him to die.”

“I want to see him.”

Nabil led her towards the ruin, through a rock arch into a kind of courtyard with the crumbling fortress walls in front and the caves to their right. “It is not permitted until you have surrendered yourself to our Lord Zruvan.”

Violette held back a flare of rage. A voice roared in her mind,
How dare you do this? Who do you think you are?
She knew that if she unleashed her anger, the Lilith part of her wouldn’t hesitate to tear off Nabil’s head, or that of anyone who tried to stop her.

She kept her fury down, well aware that if she lost control, Emil would certainly die.

“What does your Lord Zruvan want with me?”

“That is for him to tell you.”

“He’s had every chance,” Violette said tightly. She stopped, forcing Nabil to turn and face her. “Wait a moment, and tell me the truth. A huge figure in dark-brown robes, with a skull-mask covering his head and a staff glowing in his hands: wasn’t that your Lord Zruvan, stalking me through the Crystal Ring? If he could keep following me and finding me there, why couldn’t he speak to me?”

“His ways are mysterious,” said Nabil. She knew by now he wouldn’t give a clear answer. “But he never leaves his dwelling. He cannot. That’s why he instructed us to bring you here.”

“He can’t leave his dwelling,” she echoed. “So what did I see?”

“The power of his will.”

“You mean a thought-form. A kind of astral projection. That’s what I thought. He’s very good.”

“Good? He is a great deity, beyond your comprehension.” Nabil turned and began walking again. She fell in beside him.

“And yet he can’t physically go out?”

She was goading him, trying to get at the truth, but Nabil would not play. She saw a glitter of anger in his eyes. His reply was low and abrupt. “You cannot understand.”

Cannot
, she thought.
That’s rather more judgemental than, “You do not…”

“I fear that once I go to him, I may not come out again.” She tried to hide the genuine fear in her voice. “What proof will I have that Emil is safe and free?”

“I am sorry, my lady.” Nabil bowed, inviting her forward with an open hand. “I like this no more than you. But I ask respectfully that you follow me.”

His deference surprised her – but she was a goddess, after all. And, however reluctant he was to acknowledge it, he knew.

* * *

Charlotte’s journey through the Crystal Ring was one of the hardest she’d ever made. The layered robes weighed her down, as they would in water. The weight sapped her energy. From Raqia, the vista of sand and mountains seemed to boil. Keeping sight of Violette and Nabil, while staying far enough behind to avoid notice, was nearly impossible. Her mouth was dry, every bone aching with effort.