The Elemental Mysteries: Complete Series (166 page)

Carwyn steered the conversation back toward the mountain pass they were now almost certain led to the forgotten fortress of Arosh that Saba had mentioned in her letters to Ziri. It had been first dark when Giovanni and Carwyn entered the village. They had taken shelter in a cave the earth vampire had carved out at dawn the day before. The tiny town was nestled at the base of several passes. They knew that Arosh’s fortress lay in the mountains, but they weren’t certain through which of the three gorges they needed to pass to get there.

Carwyn spoke. “This mountain we speak of is unique. And we will not need a guide for the hike. We ask only your permission to climb there and direction to the proper trail.”

“Your horses will not make the journey this late in the year,” the man continued to protest, as Giovanni’s eyes scanned the room. The house was not a wealthy one, but the art and icons on the walls gave testament to the man’s position of authority in the community. His son stood at the doorway, watching the two foreigners with cautious eyes.

“I appreciate your concern.” Carwyn nodded respectfully. “But we must go there. It was recommended to us by a very dear friend. A climbing partner who insisted we must see the vistas from the peak.”

The man’s eyes narrowed. “I do not know who you might speak of. That mountain is not a good place; I am telling you, no one travels there.”

Giovanni broke in. “Why? Why doesn’t anyone go there?”

The Svan hesitated, glancing between Giovanni and Carwyn. “Bandits. There are bandits in that part of the mountains.”

The man’s son broke into the conversation, murmuring in their own tongue, as he and his father seemed to have a low-voiced debate. Finally, the father raised his hand and his son fell quiet. “If you want to go there, I will not stop you. But I must know that no one will come looking for you and causing us trouble.”

Giovanni said, “No one will come after us. We do not wish to bring trouble to your home.”

The older man nodded and sat back in his chair. “Otar will take you as far as the base of the trail, but that is all. He will not accompany you up the mountain.”

Carwyn’s eyes darted toward Giovanni’s, and he nodded. Carwyn said, “That is more than we ask; we appreciate your hospitality.”

“Tell me again,” Giovanni said. “Why do you not want us to go there?”

Otar spoke from behind them, surprising Giovanni when he spoke in English. “That mountain is cursed. No one goes there. Or at least, no one comes back.”

“Cursed by what?”

The younger man shrugged. “The old people tell legends. And sometimes, the girls disappear if they go too close.”

“Only the girls?” Carwyn asked.

The young man was about to speak, but his father interrupted. “There are still robbers in the hills. It is better now than it was, but… we keep our children close to the village. Especially at night.”

Giovanni turned to the father. “Tell me about the legends.”

“They are nonsense.”

He smiled. “I am curious. I am a literature professor in Italy. I love stories and myths.”

The father shrugged. “The old people say that an angel appeared to Queen Tamar hundreds of years ago when she visited the mountains. He shone like fire and fell in love with our queen, so she gave him this mountain and let him build a stone tower. He stayed in the tower when she returned to the lowlands and her castle, but she returned here every summer to visit him. Many years passed in peace, but when the messengers came to the mountains, telling the people that the queen had died in her castle, the mountain she had given the angel was engulfed in flames. All the trees burned and none grew again. The angel continued to live there, but he grew angry with the Svan people. Hundreds of years passed, and the village that once thrived in the gorge beneath was deserted. Now, no one goes there. It is cursed.”

An angel of fire.

Giovanni wondered what Arosh would think of the legend. He wondered if he would even get to ask or whether these dark hours in the small village would be his last before he was killed by the legendary immortal.

“You will stay in my son’s house tonight, my friends. You may leave in the morning for your trek.”

Carwyn smiled and demurred. “No, no. We must travel at night. My friend’s skin condition makes it necessary to travel at night. And we only need your son to point us toward the trailhead. We will be happy to find our own way.”

Giovanni was glad he was so pale. The men had been suspicious of his ‘sunlight allergy,’ but had been more than happy to take the money for their hospitality without too many questions. As they made their way out of the small home and toward the horses they had ridden into the remote village, Carwyn and Giovanni were careful to shake hands with the men, ensuring their cooperation through subtle amnis and removing any suspicion from their minds.

“You are sure you want to go there?” Otar asked Giovanni as he saddled his packhorse.

“Yes, very sure.”

“I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but if it’s treasure, I don’t think you will find any in those mountains.”

“Do people come looking for treasure?”

The young man’s eyes held a playful kind of mischief. “Many things have been hidden in these mountains over the years. Often, they are found. More often, they are not.”

Giovanni’s mouth lifted at the corner, wondering what treasure hunters had been disappointed. In the old man’s house alone, he spotted several icons that any museum in Western Europe would love to have in their collection. Here, they hung on the walls, watching over humble families and simple meals.

“Truly, my friend”—Giovanni slapped the young man on the shoulder—“you must not worry about us. We are not here to look for anything that might bring harm to your family.”

“I’m not worried about my family, but I’ll be surprised if I see
you
again.”

Carwyn left the small house with a bottle of wine and a wrapped package that smelled like the flat bread they had eaten earlier. An old woman patted the vampire’s rough cheek and waved at them from the glowing door of the kitchen as they mounted their horses and followed the young man up to the trailhead.

“Leave it to you to think of your stomach, Carwyn.” Giovanni spoke in Latin, hoping the young man didn’t have any other surprises.

The vampire grinned. “If it’s my last night on earth, and I’m not in the company of a beautiful woman, then wine is the next best choice. Well, beer would be better, but wine will do.”

Giovanni chuckled and followed the soft padding of the horse in front of them. Otar led them up the western trail and into the hills. After a few miles, the young man stopped.

“This is as far as I will go with you. Keep to this trail and when you get to the dead tree line, you’ll know you’re at the right mountain. It will rise on the west side of the trail. Trust me; you won’t miss it. I have been there only once. It was during the daytime, when it is safe.”

Giovanni said, “I thought you said that no one went there.”

The young man smiled. “Only brave little boys and unhappy girls go to this mountain. The boys go during the day. The girls, at night. The boys we see again.”

Giovanni’s eyes sought Carwyn’s. What treachery was Arosh involved in? Was he feasting from the women of this small, mountain town?

Carwyn said, “Thank you, Otar.”

The young man nodded and turned his horse around. “Good luck finding whatever you’re after!”

“Thank you.”

Giovanni and Carwyn continued up the trail. It became narrower, and thick stands of forest rose on either side. Despite the peaceful surroundings, Giovanni could feel the steady thrum of energy that grew stronger the farther they traveled up the mountain.

“Do you feel it?”

Carwyn nodded. “Oh yes. These hills are… different.”

Eventually, the two vampires dismounted their horses, who were quickly becoming agitated by the crackling energy that permeated the air. Giovanni and Carwyn took their packs and strapped them on their backs before they turned the horses and shooed them away. The animals sped down the trail, and the two friends continued in silence until Carwyn started singing.

Giovanni smirked. “Really, Father? I’m trying not to think about the fact that I may never see my wife or family again, and you start a drinking song?”

“Well, it’s no use meeting somewhat certain death in a bad mood, is it?”

“I suppose you may have a point.”

“And why are you so certain that he’s going to kill us, Gio? You’ve become so cynical in your old age.”

“I’ve always been cynical. And tell me, my friend, have you ever seen two male fire vampires in the same room? The same building? The same city, for that matter?”

“Does Lan Caihe count?”

Giovanni snorted, thinking of the young, androgynous fire vampire of Penglai. “No, Lan doesn’t count.”

“Well then… no.” His mouth twisted. “That’s odd. I’ve never thought about it before. I haven’t. Not that I know many fire vampires at all.”

“There’s a reason for that.”

“Don’t get along?”

“We tend to kill each other on sight. It’s a very hard instinct to quell. Females do far better than males.”

“Good to know.” Carwyn paused, then took a long drink of the wine the old woman had given him before passing it to Giovanni. “Drink up.”

Giovanni grabbed the bottle and took a drink. It didn’t taste a fraction as sweet as his wife’s mouth, but he tried not to think about that. He tried not to think about Beatrice at all. Otherwise, he’d be too tempted to turn himself around and abandon the whole crazy plan. The farther they traveled, the heavier the air seemed to grow. If he was human, he doubted he could have stood under the pressure. The air was thick with amnis when they spotted the first charred trees.

Otar had been right; there was no mistaking this mountain. Unlike the surrounding hills, the slope that rose up from the gorge was a vast, wasted ruin. Rocks tumbled down and sharp spires of blackened conifer trunks dotted the landscape that glowed grey under the full moon.

“Think this is it?”

Giovanni took his foot off the trail and stepped up. As soon as he touched the base of the mountain he caught a whiff of almond smoke. The unmistakable scent of another male fire vampire filled his nostrils, and a certain dread fell over him. “This is it.”

They went slowly, not wanting to surprise whatever presence dwelled at the top of the mountain. Even Carwyn, who was usually at home in remote hills, seemed grim. Giovanni heard him praying under his breath as they climbed.

“Father?”

“Didn’t I tell you to stop calling me that?”

Giovanni turned to him and held out a hand. “Thank you. For everything.”

He saw Carwyn’s eyes glow bright in the moonlight, and his voice was hoarse when he grasped Giovanni’s hand. “Don’t be so morbid, Sparky.”

Just then, a rushing sound filled the air. The wind whipped by as if churned by some great flying beast. They turned, but nothing showed itself in the night. Giovanni took a deep breath and continued their silent climb.

They had just climbed over a scarred knoll when they heard the rushing wind again. This time, it was closer. Then, he felt a great rush of wind, as if the air around him was being sucked up toward the summit of the mountain. His heart faltered for a moment.

“Carwyn, duck.”

They both dropped to the rocks before the wave of scarlet fire swept down the mountain. Carwyn’s amnis pushed up, and a wall of rock rose before them. They pressed against it as the flames rolled down the slope. Giovanni could even feel the rock they sheltered behind begin to heat, and he struggled to rein in his own instinctive reaction. The fire bloomed on his skin and burned away his shirt and coat. His fangs ran out, but he bit his lip and tried to control himself.

“Carwyn?”

“Yes?”

“I know you’re not, strictly speaking, a priest anymore—”

“Trust me when I say I’m rethinking that decision just now!”

“Pray anyway.”

The flames halted for a minute and Giovanni stepped out from behind their earthen shield, the blue flames swirling along his skin, but contained for the moment.

“Arosh!” he called.

He felt the slow suck of air again, and he darted back behind the rock as the flames swept down the mountain again. They were slower this time, creeping and testing, and Carwyn rolled the rocks and earth up around them to smother the flames before they reached their feet.

A whispering Persian voice came on the wind. “Who seeks Arosh?”

Giovanni took a deep breath and answered. “I am Giovanni, son of Nikolaos Andreas, sired by Kato of Minos.”

The flames were no longer testing. They came in furious waves. Carwyn roared as one curled up his leg. He sank his foot in the rock to kill the burning tendril.

“I don’t think that helped much, Sparky!”

“Apparently, I’m not the only one who hated my father.”

The flames halted again, so Giovanni tried another name.

“We have been sent by Ziri, the Numidian. We come as friends!”

The deep voice came again, closer this time. “I have no quarrel with the holy man. Tell Saba’s son to depart from this place. I have no wish to anger her or the immortal’s god. But the son of Andreas is mine.”