Quest

Chapter 6 - Ties of Blood and Water

Gratchis nodded thoughtfully, claws drumming on the arm of his chair. “Chaos… What do you want to know? It’s a big subject.”
Llmalda glanced at Aven and nodded.
“Go on.”
Aven hesitated, then told him. When he’d finished, the Grendel was silent for a moment. Aven blinked away the hotness in his eyes, his fists automatically clenching at the memories. Gratchis whistled through his fangs.
“Yes… Not a textbook example, I will admit. You say it was only really the village that was destroyed?”
“Yes.”
“Strange. A Chaos attack tends to eradicate everything within a several mile radius, regardless of where they were aiming for, but in your case it seems to have been more… Centred. From what you’ve described, it doesn’t sound exactly like Chaos… More… An attempt to appear that way? Although that would be unbelievably stupid…” Gratchis shook his head, “I’m sorry Aven, but I can’t place it. Although…”
“What?” Aven bit his lip. If they’d come all this way for nothing… Gratchis frowned and rubbed his chin.
“I have hear of one branch of Chaos that may fit the description. Every heard of Schwartzenmeisters?”
Llmalda shook her head, but Aven wasn’t so quick to disagree. Schwartzenmeisters… Black wizards? He was he’d seen that word before… That was it! He looked up.
“Maybe,” he reached into his bag and pulled out the small book. Gratchis looked at it.
“What is this?”
“My mother’s journal. I haven’t read it all yet, but there’s a section here in a language I can’t understand,” he flipped through the pages until he came to a small bookmark. The word at the top of the page caught his eye again. He knew he’d seen it before… He handed it to Gratchis.
“Can you read this?”
The Grendel took it and slowly ran a claw down the page, lips moving silently. He nodded.
“Yes. This tells of a story, a legend of a Schwartzenmeister once a powerful Chaos Lord who tried to gain victory over… What is simply called a deadly foe…” Gratchis read on a bit before continuing, “Defeated and shamed he retreated to a tower of darkness, where he still tries to regain favour with Maki, the Chaos god.”
“And?”
“That’s all the book says. Unless this means anything to you,” Gratchis proffered to book, claw pointing at a small, circular drawing in the bottom corner. Aven stared at it.
“I always thought it looked a bit like a map… But I couldn’t ever read what it said around it. Can’t you?”
Gratchis sighed.
“You put too much faith in me dear boy. I can’t read every language in this world, and in this case I’m afraid I’m not much help.”
Aven nodded and took the book back. He tried to contain his disappointment. Well, at least they’d got a new lead. Llmalda placed a hand on his shoulder.
“At least we’ve got something a bit more definite to work on. Stories often have more than a little truth in them.”
Gratchis smiled.
“And I hope you find it, and,” he blinked, “Oh dear…” His voice trailed off and suddenly his gaze hardened and shifted to staring at the opposite wall. Llmalda’s hand tightened on Aven’s shoulder and she began to pull him backwards. Aven glanced up at Gratchis, and gasped in shock as the Grendel’s face suddenly twisted in fury.
“What are you doing here?” He roared, taking a swipe at thin air with a fistful of claws. Aven was about to speak when Llmalda clamped a hand over his mouth.
“He’s not talking to us!” She hissed. Aven stared at her, then back at Gratchis, who now seemed to be roaring at the walls.
“What’s going on?” He whispered.
“I told you he’s affected differently. Him unwinding… Well, he keeps flicking back through his life, thinking he’s somewhere else, you know?”

“Why is that so dangerous?”
Llmalda laughed softly.
“From what I’ve gathered, before he became a vampire Gratchis was a Skullsmasher General. After father initiated him…”
“Your father?”
“Yeah, he’s always been keen on unusual initiations. Which is probably why you aren’t dead yet, an elf would intrigue him. Anyway, after he became a vampire, Gratchis spent several years as a mercenary, then a bounty hunter. Then he met up with father again and came back here. The problem is, when he thinks he’s somewhere else it can very easily be in the middle of a battle. He almost destroyed the whole west wing of the manor once, and frankly no one here’s got the power to stop him when he gets like that. After he woke up, he locked himself up down here so he wouldn’t do anything like that again.”
Aven’s gaze was drawn to the strange marks on the walls. From where he was they looked very like claw marks, smashed into the rock. He shivered. Llmalda laid a hand on his arm.
“Come on, let’s go. We won’t get any more information today, and I want you out of here before nightfall proper.”
Before Aven could reply, there was a snarl from Gratchis that suddenly cut off. He swayed slightly, and rubbed his forehead.
“Ah yes, that was not a good day. I think you had better go my dear, if I recall correctly the rest of that exchange is not pleasant to witness.”
“We’re leaving. Thanks Gratchis,” Llmalda called over her shoulder as she dragged Aven out of the room.
“A pleasure to see you again.”
The door shut behind them and Llmalda twisted the key, just as something very heavy hit it from the other side.
As Aven began to breathe again, something clutched his shoulder in a grip that was as strong as it was bony. He was yanked round, coming face-to-fang with a lunging vampire. He yelled and ducked, swinging the first thing at came to hand as the vampire’s jaws snapped shut above his head. His bag swung up, smacking the thing on the side of the head, and jerking open. A single white shape flew out, and suddenly the room was filled with shrieks of fear and hissing. Dark shapes scrambled over eachother to get away, clusters of red eyes staring fearfully out from behind pillars. Llmalda held her hand over her nose as Aven scooped up the garlic bulb.
“Keep it out, we’ll get less trouble from them.”
Aven fixed his bag back around his waist with one hand, holding the garlic out with the other. Llmalda hissed at a pair of gleaming eyes watching them.
“Let’s get out of here.”

“Mistress! You alive!”
“There’s usually some debate about that, but it’ll do for now,” Llmalda grinned as she pulled herself over the last step and out into the rough stone of the huge entrance. Aven returned the grin, and gratefully grasped the outreached hand offered. Their trip back through the crypt had been relatively uneventful, and although Aven was certain they’d been followed nothing had tried to attack/challenge/eat them. Still, it was a real relief to get out of the place. They watched as Igor quickly lowered the huge stone slab again and, thankfully, nothing tried a last-minute break for freedom. Llmalda nodded as the slab slammed down again, and turned to Igor.
“Everything quiet?”
“Very.”
“No one around at all?”
“No, Mistress. They not follow you.”
Llmalda frowned.
“What?”
“They not interested in y…” He cut off as Llmalda slapped a hand over his mouth. Aven felt the hairs on his neck begin to stand up.
“What’s the matter?”
“Not following, my foot!”
“Why…?” Aven cut off when he noticed the comma in that sentence. His hand went down to his bag, fingers grasping at the contents. Llmalda stopped scanning the room for long enough to shoot him a sideways glance.
“How much anti-vampire have you got in there?”
“A small phial of holy water, three bulbs of garlic, some garlic powder and a stake,” Aven hissed quietly, “You aren’t seriously thinking of using them, are you?”
“Shut up,” Llmalda released Igor and grabbed the bag, carefully pulling out the phial. She handed it back to him.
“You’ll have to hold the garlic, it’ll just burn me.”
“Err…”
“Never mind the err, just throw when I tell you to.”
“I’ve got a sunlight casting somewhere,” Aven muttered, “Would that be…”
“Ssh!” Llmalda pressed a finger to her lips, head cocked to one side. She glared at the pools of shadow under one of the statues.
“Out. Wherever you are, get out where I can see you.”
Aven followed her gaze, holding the garlic bulb tightly, trying to see what she was looking at. Even with an elf’s sharp eyes, Aven couldn’t distinguish anything in the shadows. The one thing that was drawing his attention was the fact that there were a lot of shadows in this room. Easily enough to hold a lot of vampires. Llmalda hissed slightly.
“Still hiding. You want me to come in and find you?”
“It vud aadd more zporrt.” Aven blinked as the Countess seemed to materialise out of the shadows, smiling coldly. Llmalda sneered.
“How stupid do you think I am? You think I wouldn’t know you’d follow us?”
“Not qvite, but vho knovz vat influenzez yov haave been under vile aavaay?” The older vampire’s icy gaze hit Aven for a second and he shivered. Llmalda idly tossed the phial in her hand.
“Let me guess father, you’re cowering in those shadows,” she pointed a long nail at a patch of darkness opposite the Countess. There was a soft laugh, and the Count stepped forwards, melting out of the blackness.
“Very good Llmalda. You’re still sharp.”
“Oh, I pride myself in it. After all, brains is what sets me apart from you lot.”
A slight flicker of annoyance darted across the Count’s face as he began to almost glide over to his wife. Aven glanced at Llmalda.
“Now what?”
“They make the first move.”
“Why?”
“Tradition,” she winked at him, “And you know how I hate that.” She locked gaze with the Count and twirled the phial round her fingers.
“Know what this is?”
“Oh do tell,” the Count sneered. Llmalda smiled sweetly.
“I’ll do better. I’ll even let you try it,” her arm moved so fast it was a blur. The phial streaked through the air, and shattered on a statue above the Countess, showering her with liquid. The vampire screamed and started clawing at the slightly smoking rivulets that ran down her face. Aven stared in amazement. He’d never actually seen a vampire get hit by holy water before. Llmalda snatched the bag from Aven and waved it in the air as the Countess writhed.
“I’ve got plenty of these, anyone else like a little reminder of me?” The Count continued forwards, stepping over his wife as she lay curled on the floor, moaning. He smiled horribly.
“A good effort, but I doubt you have as much as you say.”
“Want to chance it?”
“My dear girl, I very much doubt there’s anything to chance. You’ve never been good at bluffing Llmalda.”
Llmalda flashed another smile.
“Probably true, but guess what? This isn’t a bluff,” she let the bag fall, fingers curled around a pale package. Aven just had time to see what it was before Llmalda’s sharp nails split the packet open. She whipped her hand infront of her face, leant forwards and blew hard. A pale cloud of dust rose up and hit the Count full in the face. He coughed slightly, then cried out as the garlic powder settled on his skin. Fingers clawing at the rapidly reddening welts, eyes streaming, he started sneezing uncontrollably and stumbled backwards. Llmalda lunged forwards and punched him in the stomach. The Count went down hard, narrowly missing landing on the Countess. Aven tried to swallow his amazement, and slight horror at the speed that she’d dealt with them. Llmalda beckoned to him, and Igor.
“Come on, while they’re nursing their wounds.”
There was a groan from the Countess.
“Ve are yovr faamily…”
Llmalda bent down next to her, eyes burning.
“And that’s why you’re still breathing. C’mon guys,” she started off at a slow jog. Aven hurried after her, trying to shake off the odd feeling at the thought of treating family like that. For elves, blood ties were massively important. Well, vampires naturally had very different ideas about blood… He shook off the thought as they hurried through the Manor, and concentrated on trying not to think about the multitude of hiding places that the ornate rooms provided. When they reached a small corridor leading off to one side, Llmalda halted.
“Igor, you go that way, get some mounts.”
Igor nodded and shambled off. Aven watched him go, then looked at Llmalda.
“If there’s a way out that way, why are we going through the main house?”
Llmalda drummed her fingers on the wall.
“Frankly, because we’re the best equipped to get through here. That way’s a maze of servant’s corridors, even I don’t know exactly where they lead. Igor does, so he’d be faster on his own. Plus, I don’t really want to be stuck in a bunch of narrow corridors if they are here.”
Aven frowned, feeling his nerves twang at the way she’d said ‘they’.
“They? So far, we’ve come across wraiths, unwound vampires, a Grendel and your parents. You’re telling me there’s a ‘they’ in here that’s worse than what we’ve already see?”
“Yes. Very much so.”
Aven rolled his eyes, staring up that the ceiling.
“Great. Anything else you haven’t told me? You have Chaos Spawn instead of rats in this place?”
“Ha ha. Just keep moving, and stay alert. We’ll be okay.”
“Real reassuring.”
“I’m reassuring me,” Llmalda muttered as they started moving again. Aven was trying even harder not to think, as his imagination kept throwing up images of things that could be classed as worse than that wraith. His eyes scanned their surroundings for any sign of movement, or tentacle. He nearly slumped with relief as they reached the main hallway, without encountering anything other than bookcases. The huge doors stood tantalisingly ajar, torchlight spilling out into the dusk. There was a second of silence, then their gazes locked.
“That was not open before…” A slow clapping sound nearly made Aven jump out of his skin.
“Well spotted. I’ll have to give you a little more credit next time.”
Aven spun round, and froze as the figure detached itself from the shadows. He heard Llmalda curse as the vampire sauntered into the torchlight, hands planted firmly in the pockets of his skin-tight, black trousers. A thin silver belt hung at his waist, what looked like small silver-plated rat-skulls hanging from it. Slightly long, slick, oiled-back hair looked almost moulded to his head, a gleaming diamond stud glittering in his left ear. His shirt was as tight as the rest of his clothing, each seam on the midnight-black material picked out in silver, the spike-like collar jutting up almost to his ears. He also radiated a sense of menace. He smiled, the gleaming tips of pearly fangs appearing over his thin lips. Llmalda sighed.
“Marl. I almost thought we’d avoided coming into your… Charming presence.”
“Now, now Llmalda, is that any way to talk to me? And infront of a guest as well.” The vampire’s dark gaze drilled into Aven. He tutted slightly.
“I must apologise for my sister’s manners Calec.”
“You know my name.”
“News travels amazingly fast.”
“I’ll say.”
“What do you want Marl?” Llmalda snapped. The other vampire, Marl, shrugged and grinned again.
“Oh, we just wondered why we’d not seen you yet sister dear.”
“We…?” Llmalda trailed off, then suddenly swung round, bringing her clenched fist up. It shot past Aven’s ear and connected hard with something behind him. Aven spun round, in time to see another vampire backflip away from Llmalda’s glare, holding his eye. Landing with cat-like grace, he twirled on one leg and dropped into a crouch, good eye gleaming up at them. Aven fixed a description of him. He looked like Marl, but less manicured. His hair was longer, and less styled, his clothing slightly scruffy, and his fangs much larger. He also seemed not to be able to stay still, constantly swaying or flexing his fingers. A slightly mad gaze locked with Aven’s and he felt a shiver run down his spine. Llmalda snorted.
“And where there is Marl, there must be Kvescan. Haven’t you unwound yet?”
“Nott qvite, Llmalda, hovever yov mightt vish,” he giggled and suddenly dropped into a roll, carrying him past them and over to Marl. Spinning round and launching himself up, he landed lightly on top of a low cabinet, crouching on the very edge, balancing on his hands. Aven just about managed to tear his gaze away from Kvescan. There was something about the vampire that reminded him of a spider. An insane spider. Llmalda hissed slightly.
“Get out of my way.”
Marl laughed, not a pleasant sound.
“No, no I think that would be a bad idea. You see, I have a little more family loyalty than you do Llmalda.”
“Hah! What about last summer? Your little trick with the mirrors? I doubt Nelme would agree about your huge amount of loyalty.”
Marl shrugged.
“Yes, well. Vampire versus vampire is more of a territorial disagreement, but you know as well as I do that an attack from… Elsewhere will not be treated in such a lenient way.”
“You never could get to the point, could you?”
“Tvo pointts,” Kvescan giggled, baring his fangs. Llmalda ignored him; her gaze fixed on Marl. He grinned nastily.
“You know, Gratchis really isn’t as quick as he used to be. It’s pretty easy to…ah… Steer his flashbacks. Interesting conversation you had Calec, or is it Aven? Which do you prefer?”
Aven swore under his breath as Marl’s grin was aimed at him.
“Depends who’s asking.”
Marl clapped his hands.
“Excellent! Of course Llmalda, you do understand the implications, do you not? If your friend really was an initiate, I should think to hesitate before taking any revenge for his actions against my family, as he would soon be one of us and a fair fight is always so much more amusing. However, as we all know, plain elves are easy game.”
Aven was ready for Kvescan’s lunge, but not quite of the speed of the vampire’s movement. He managed to duck in time, but somehow his opponent seemed to change direction in mid-air, his long nails raking into Aven’s chest and baring him to the ground. Before Aven could even react, Kvescan’s fangs were plunging towards his neck. There was a crack and suddenly the vampire howled in pain, jumping backward holding his mouth. Aven scrambled upright, backing up until he was next to Llmalda. His hand flew up to his throat, wondering briefly why he’d not been bitten. His fingers found the answer. Embedded into his torc was a small, sharp object. With a twist he freed it. The gleaming fang lay in his palm and he glanced up at Kvescan, who had retreated back onto the cabinet. Lazily, Aven placed the fang on his finger, and flicked it at the vampire. He wasn’t in any mood to be nice. There was a hiss from Marl.
“Very good elf. An interesting piece of jewellery you have there.” He took a step towards them, and Llmalda darted infront of Aven, pushing him back.
“Head for the door,” she hissed, then turned back to Marl.
“Had enough, brother?”
“Barely begun Llmalda, barely begun. Lucky elf. I wonder how long your luck will last?”
“Long enough,” Aven muttered, reaching into his bag. He was out of holy water, but did have some garlic left. Yanking it out, he threw it as hard as he could towards Marl. He wasn’t sure exactly what happened next, but from what he did see, the vampire dropped backwards onto his hands, feet kicking up so fast they were nearly a blur, sending the bulb shooting off in the other direction. Effortlessly, Marl flipped back onto his feet again.
“I’ll have to burn these shoes,” he said in an almost conversational tone, nodding to Kvescan who hopped down from his perch. Llmalda’s lips curled back, exposing her fangs, her fingers twitching. Marl laughed again.
“Worried, sister? I’d be. You know I’m faster than you are, and now he knows what to avoid, Kvescan can easily take out your friend. It’s been a while since we’ve had such a… Fresh meal. Care to join us?” “I’d prefer to ram that greasy head of yours into your neck.”
“Suit yourself.”
Almost as one, the two vampires started to advance. Aven backed away, glancing over his shoulder. They weren’t far from the main doors, but at the speed Kvescan had moved he could run round them six times before they got there.
“Sunlight casting,” Llmalda hissed. Aven stared at her.
“What?”
“You mentioned a sunlight spell. Now would be a good time to use it. They can’t take it like I can.”
Aven kept backing away as his questioning fingers pulled the book out of his bag. He flicked through the pages quickly, trying to watch both Marl and Kvescan at the same time. It wasn’t easy as Kvescan kept dancing from side to side, baring his remaining fang. It was extremely distracting. Finally, Aven found the page he was after and muttered the words of the spell.
“Down Llmalda!” He yelled as he flung his hand outward. Sparks danced on the end of his fingers before leaping out from his hand, spinning into a glowing golden ball as they moved. Kvescan laughed, but the sound suddenly changed to a scream of pain as the ball flashed brightly. Aven looked away so the bright light didn’t blind him, but he did see Marl throw up his hands, hissing at the glow. It took a few moments for the vampires to recover from the shock and to bolt towards the corridor, and Aven caught a glimpse of reddening skin as they vanished into the house. He turned to Llmalda, who had her back to the hovering ball of sunlight, her hood covering her face.
“Let’s get out of here.”
“Run?”
“Run.”
As they sprinted down the track, Aven fought the urge to look over his shoulder. He knew they were being watched, the question was, were they being followed?
Thankfully, they weren’t. Reaching the forest, Aven nearly jumped out of his skin as Igor shambled out of the trees. The Norn nodded to them, then stuck his fingers in his mouth and let out an ear-piercing whistle. Aven’s puzzlement vanished and he grinned as three black Pitzens emerged from the woods and stood, panting at the side of the path. Llmalda swung herself up onto the back of the first one. Aven noted that it didn’t seem worried by what its rider was, so he guessed these mounts were from the Manor. They were fast too, and they were soon out of sight of the Manor, and the forest. Aven didn’t say anything, but he could tell that the other members of the group were as relieved as he was to be leaving Gorth.

Chapter 4

Chapter 7