A Journey of Black and Red-Novel

I sit back and relax, letting Sephare vent. I shall have to endure Constantine’s ire later and would rather preserve my strength.

I smile at the recollection, despite my best efforts.

Unfortunately, my light smile freezes on my face ever so slightly, and the cunning socialite that is the Hastings lady picks up on it. She leans above her desk with fury on her brow just as I regain my composure. Her pale blue eyes bore into my soul, or they would if I still had one. She cracks the wood under her dainty claws just from anger. I had never seen such a loss of control from the smooth court animal.

I am more than famous, I am infamous!

For fun and because I cherish Torran’s happiness.

She places both hands over her face, then a second later, glares at me from between her fingers.

I lift both hands to show my lack of resistance.

I believe I may have broken her.

Sephare screams, a shrill sound that pierces through the Boston fortress to herald danger. The small lady then grabs a bust from a pedestal near her window and smashes the glass to pieces. Then, she jumps through it. How very dramatic.

I inspect my fingers until a knock on the door heralds the coming of more questions. Always more questions.

Constantine’s stewart and Boston Fortress’ master enters the room. Wilhelm wears a black suit but leaves his beard and long blond hair flowing free, offering an interesting contrast.

I stand and turn to face the Erenwald lord who has expressed a more straightforward opinion than most of his peers would. It was heartfelt and I feel compelled to answer his favor in kind.

Wilhelm considers me in silence for a moment. I cannot read his expression.

I ponder his request for an instant. He is a brave and honest man and deserves that much.

I really, really do.

The council room has always struck me as a place of potential. An unfamiliar spectator might equate our ancient garbs with obsolescence or associate the stone seats with stagnation, but it would be a mistake. As in many aspects that concern the aristocracy of the night, the truth lies beneath a thin mask. The unmoving monsters are not statues but powerful beings ready to pounce at the first sign of aggression. The controlled auras betray odd variations, signs that their owners hate cramped space and the proximity of their kin. Councils are not unlike the final moment of a pendulum’s swing. The ball has slowed down to near-immobility, only to come hurling back. I must grab the attention before the rest of the wardens fall on me like several brick houses that someone would have set on fire.

To come forth for explanation would normally be unwise. It acknowledges the authorities of others. It weakens my position, implying that the approval of my fellow wardens matters to me, an unthinkable proposition. Wardens are only held accountable when tried. I, however, have gone too far. The Accords are willing to tolerate the odd bout of piracy or government destabilization. I bet even the occasional town could be razed to the ground. Clearly, crossing the Atlantic to trigger a war between vampiredom’s two mightiest factions crossed a limit.

Rather than waiting for the inevitable trial, I have decided to go on the offensive, so to speak. Sephare and Constantine approved the plan. I ran it by Sinead to be certain it was the best choice on the off chance that the pair had decided to sacrifice me to my rivals. He agreed.

Constantine climbs down the stairs and gives me a cold look. He has not quite digested my little escapade, not that I blame him. Soon, the session begins with the usual greetings. The few more urgent issues are solved expeditiously. Barring a few exceptions, all of the wardens are present. Everyone wants to get to the meat of the subject, so to speak.

I stand up as Constantine sits.

Technically true since Sinead is their leader. When it comes to vampire negotiations, technically true remains the best choice. Semantics matter to us almost as much as to the Likaeans.

Normally, I would despise half-truths terribly, but we are playing a game with other rulers. I am not truly collaborating with them, I am deceiving them to protect Sinead who was my ally from the start. Curse him and his handsome face.

The clear oath takes and holds. I do believe that depriving hostile factions of Likaean blood will significantly even the playing field. The truth is that the Accords do not have access to any blood-harvesting facility and that, by law, any resource found locally belongs to the territory’s warden. By extension, captured fae are the property of the captors and no one else. Those of us who managed to find those rare and elusive creatures have kept it to themselves, me included.

A Roland lord raises a hand. I allow the interruption.

The wardens blink and turn their head, the vampire equivalent of a strong reaction.

Although we have not addressed the situation yet, all of the wardens know Mask will attempt another conquest sometimes soon.

I met the man in Paris when I visited the undercity. He is one of Mask’s deadliest combatants, perhaps on par with Jarek himself.

The same who pierced my heart. What a small world.

Sephare warned me of course. The truth is that even with fae blood, they would still be at a small disadvantage according to our estimates. Of course, theirs could be different and they might believe they hold the advantage. They might even be correct.

The old ones eye me suspiciously. I left much unsaid and there are loopholes, yet to lose sight of captive fae implies that I either gave up on them or trust the unknown party blindly.

I shake my head.

Ah, direct and to the point as always.

Jarek does not react, yet a few pointed looks show that no one believes in a gesture of altruism on my part. Wardens are seldom witless, after all.

Recognition shows on many faces. Our enmity might have been a quirk or a footnote during the last conflict, but now I am a lady and the stakes are just as high.

Cries of consternation ring throughout the room.

Those who join will be forced to silence, and free to leave the scheme if they do not like it, though they will be compelled not to oppose it in any way. The protests die down, though frowns show that they find the proposal less than enchanting.

I shake my head lightly.

The prepared oaths might be comprehensive but I would rather limit our numbers to true believers who will not spend every hour of every night trying to work around their binding words just so that they snack on a certain shameless rogue. If anyone gets their fangs into him, it shall be me.

The Speaker truly has my back despite his reticence. If he wanted to sabotage me, he would have asked for a recess and let those old schemers cook up some legal way to force my hand or at least delay me to let me know of their displeasure. If we get to the trial vote now, the wardens should be too concerned about my next scheme to try to stop the past one. We do enjoy ty. Their curiosity will protect me from legal retribution more surely than any convincing proof could.

As expected, no one makes an argument, though I receive one last question.

A few more grumbles and I am a free woman.

A small yet hallowed committee sits in my fortress room, so busy that I had to borrow chairs from a neighboring Cadiz master. Lord Suarez stands for the Cadiz while Lord Adrien represents the Roland and, to some extent, the traditionalist faction which I oppose. Jimena is here, of course, and so is Naminata. Jarek showed up without a word. To my surprise, Sephare joined us. She raises an annoyed brow when I look at her.

Those men and women reflect my journey to the Accords and to power. Lord Suarez raced after me in Savannah, a pursuit that ended with me swimming through its pier’s soiled waters. In my mind, he represents the Cadiz, the first faction to ally with me purely for their own benefits. Jimena and Nimanata are my first friends and the ones who helped me with no benefit to themselves. I helped Sephare obtain her territory, then integrated her group as she helped me in return. The canny blonde was my first formal, political faction leader. As for Adrien, we worked together during the human civil war then he attacked my land during my little Knight adventure because of the capture of his twin brother. He owes me a debt yet still nominally belongs to the traditional faction. In a way, Adrien is the opposition party in a government at war, opposed on minor issues but united during times of strife.

Although their numbers are few, those lords and ladies represent the entirety of the Accords’ political spectrum and will no doubt report to their respective sides once they know my little secret. The oath will prevent them from giving out any details so they will be limited to saying yes or no. I do not mind. Although their support would be welcome, I do not particularly need them anywhere except off my back.

Adrien sits somewhat uncomfortably, the last person to join. I stand up and close, then ward the door. I also double check that Constantine is not eavesdropping through the fortress’ defenses as I am sure he can, but find no signs of tampering. Satisfied, I return behind my desk and pass out the forms detailing the oath. All of the persons present swear with no signs of hesitation. It feels strange to be the heart of a conspiracy. Strange, yet exotic.

My guests receive this declaration in consternated silence. I let them simmer for a second, then give them their second serving.

Oh.

Oh!

Oh this is going to be so good.

Horror, awe, and stupefaction war across the old ones present to my immense satisfaction. Is this how it feels to bring a machination to a perfect close? I understand Sinead so much now, I would even laugh maniacally if I were not a mature and poised lady. I shall have to do so later in private.

The only persons not to gasp are Naminata and Jimena who knew to some extent. They put on satisfied smiles while the others display powerful emotions. The most shocked of them all is Sephare. She grabs her forehead between her hands then, to my surprise, she laughs.

Once her mirth calms down a bit, she meets my eyes with pleasure clear on her delicate features.

No one volunteers. I expect the ancient ones to consider their options before withdrawing their support, but sometimes, some of us react strongly to what we perceive as foolishness. It does not appear to be the case here. No one erupts in furious vociferations.

I place my hands on my lap and close my eyes. I need to… oh, to hell with it. I will just speak my mind.

Constantine steps into the room and stares at me, but it is at Sephare that his question is aimed.

A long time ago, Semiramis came to the Illinois wilderness to complete a ritual. At the time, I wondered why she would pick such a desolate and random locale to conduct one of the greatest feats of magic this world has ever known. Only now do we realize that the weave of the world is particularly porous here, and that the cause for this thin barrier stems from the dead world. I hope it was not caused by some horrifying rift into reality or some similar concerns.

I turn to the quickly growing fortress being built by hired workers under the vigilant gaze of my most faithful followers. Likaeans and vampires walk the ground, looking at each other with suspicion for the former, and longing for the latter. Our otherworldly guests still wear human shapes but the exoticism they exude makes them unmistakably alien to those of us in the know. I stop when I discover Sinead casually leaning against an oak as Sephare leans forward with naked curiosity.

“You were Simon Nead all along?”

“One of my more amusing achievements, yes. Ah, poppet, you have come. The first portal is ready for activation.”

“I will need a few minutes to put on my armor. Anything of note?”

“Sivaya will come with you for the initial measurements. Do return if you are assaulted by a whale-sized burrowing worm or anything similar. We can always consider another site.”

“If we do find something of the sort, Naminata will do her very best to kill it.”

“Then I wish you a good hunt. Remember, this is a scouting mission, nothing more.”

“Yes yes.”

I roll my eyes.

I soon find myself near a ritual spot, one that is eerily similar to the one I opened during the skeleton invasion, though Sivaya naturally improved it. Melusine, the Blue Court Princess and I pierce the veil easily. A wound in the world reveals the same drab desert I am used to, as well as forms like giant, jagged dark spikes jutting from the ground in the distance. Time to explore.