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Pia moved closer to him and leaned her head upon his chest. She felt his heart beat within him. She sensed his arm move behind her and hold her tightly.

It was a feeling she never wanted to forget.

“I never thanked you for what you did for us in Canifis,” she said. “You kept us alive in that cage. I think I would have gone mad if you hadn’t been there. But you never told me why you were there in the first place.”

Vanstrom smiled grimly.

“We discussed it as you slept, Despaard, Karnac, Arisha and I. She is a good woman that one. Clever. But no, I was captured making my way back from Meiyerditch. We have friends there you see. Others like us who fight against our undead masters. I went back into the ghettoes at Karnac’s request to see if any had been left alive after we fled two years ago. Fortunately there were some. Not many, but enough.”

“Enough for what?”

Vanstrom sighed.

“The vampires who rule this realm are not like the ravenous. They are clever, their plans long-winded beyond the comprehension of any man. Often their methods will seem directly contrary to their aims, which makes it far harder for us to predict and counter them. But we do what we can.”

“So you fight against him?” she asked incredulously. “Even in my homeland we had tales of Lord Drakan.”

“He is the mightiest of their race,” Vanstrom agreed. “And the most mysterious by far. No one I know has ever seen him. But it is the Black Prince who most concerns us now. He is not Drakan, nor is he Drakan’s son, as we originally thought. But he is terrible, nonetheless. He can compel the very shadows to do his will, and it is against him that we currently wage our silent war. It is he, I believe, who commands the ravenous, but to what purpose we don’t yet know. So that is what we search for, information and knowledge and anything else that can help our cause.”

“And what if you fly out? Will you fight from beyond the river?”

Vanstrom looked at her tenderly.

“I am not sure if I wish to go with them, Pia. Karnac wants to fly out soon, within only a few days. It has taken us a long time to repair the balloon and stitch the nets.”

Pia thought about what he had said.

And if he remains, what will I do? After a moment, she spoke.

“Would you… would you think it mad of me if I said that I would like to remain here, too, if you don’t go?”

Vanstrom laughed. The sound was like claws thrust into Pia’s stomach.

“Now that is real madness,” he said. “Why would you wish for such a thing, girl?”

“There is nothing for me except death if I go back. I am accused of a murder I didn’t commit. At least here I have a chance-”

He shook her loose and stood quickly.

“There is no chance here, Pia. And think of your brother. There is no possibility of a long life, even an unhappy one!” Vanstrom was angry now. “Do you have any idea what the ghettoes are like in Meiyerditch? Do you? Parents have their children taken from them. People are rotated from one quarter to the next, like a field left to fallow, and the blood tithes must be met to feed our masters. No, Pia, there is so much you don’t know, and your wish to remain here is one made in ignorance.

“If they fly, you go. It is that simple.”

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she began to sob. Vanstrom ran his hand through his hair and growled.

“Please, Pia, don’t cry,” he said after a moment.

“If I go back, I die,” she said. “I know I will.”

He sat down by her side and once more put his arm around her.

“Look,” he said softly. “The sun is rising. Let us sit here together, upon this rock, and watch the dawn.”

Pia clutched Vanstrom tightly. The tears in her eyes blurred the pink horizon. Slowly, unstoppably, even by the evil of that land, the blood-red sun rose.

And somehow Pia felt safe.

It was full daylight when they descended to the plateau. Men were working furiously at the windlass, raising the lift as fast as they were able. Two others stood on an outcropping, their bows drawn, covering whoever was being brought up.

Vanstrom darted forward and craned his head over the edge.

“Who is it?” Pia heard him ask.

“It is Harold,” Karnac said. “He was supposed to wait near Canifis to watch our retreat. Whatever news has brought him here must be important indeed.”

The lift appeared beyond the edge. A single man was inside, looking utterly exhausted.

“It is the Vyrewatch,” Harold called as he stepped onto the plateau. “I have seen them. In Canifis. They took the prisoners and flew east with them.”

“How many prisoners?” Arisha asked, pushing herself forward.

“I couldn’t be sure, but at least six,” he said.

“Was there an old man among them, and a lanky one?” Despaard asked.

Harold shook his head.

“I don’t know. There was a woman with blonde hair, a man in white, and a man in a blue robe, but of the others I couldn’t tell.”

Kara definitely, perhaps Theodore, and the wizard who stood behind Arisha when she prayed with us.

“They were alive then?” Arisha said eagerly. “You know this?”

The man nodded.

“But only just, for the werewolves had covered the village with smoke. Had it gone on much longer, then they would have died. I think they were alive, for they were carried with care by their captors, two creatures carrying each prisoner.”

“But carried where?” Doric growled.

“Meiyerditch. It has to be,” Vanstrom answered. “But the question is surely a simple one. What will we do?”

“Do?” Harold muttered. “What can we do?”

“I will go after them,” Doric stated. “Alone if necessary.”

“It won’t be necessary,” Arisha said. “You know that, Doric.”

“This is insanity,” a listener spat. It was one of the men who had rescued them. “We have risked too much for you to go and get yourselves caught. And you know too much about our plans.”

“They will be dead by now, or as good as,” said another. “Besides, Meiyerditch is a vast place. Finding them would be an impossible task. Bringing them out from under Drakan’s eye even more so. You will only add yourselves to his tithes.”

“But this is to rescue Kara-Meir!” countered the man who had listened so closely to Arisha’s story. “We cannot abandon her. Nor the wizard!”

“Those are just stories-”

“True stories,” Doric hissed angrily. “She is famed across the river.”

“We should help her,” the listener said again. “She has risked so much for others.”

Did Arisha know that her stories would have this effect? Pia wondered silently.

Karnac listened to the exchange without speaking, then he stepped to one of the caves, where a woman sat with a blindfold across her eyes.

“What say you, spirit woman?” Karnac asked. “It was on your advice that we attacked Canifis, to rescue Vanstrom, and you told us the embassy would be there. If it wasn’t for your powers to pull creatures from the spirit plane then our escape from Meiyerditch would have been impossible. What is your counsel now?”

The woman leaned on a thin stick, her back bent, her mouth toothless. With her other hand she caressed a simple necklace of odd-looking discs. Some were gold, others red and green and a few were blue. Pia had never seen their like before.

“Long ago I saw that outsiders would come to our aid,” the spirit woman said, her voice coarse. “Without them, we shall all perish. With them, some will live. But not all.”

A silence fell as everyone wrestled with their thoughts.

“So Drakan has Gar’rth now,” Arisha said softly. “But for what purpose?”

“Is it Lord Drakan?” Pia interrupted. “Or is it this Black Prince, perhaps?”

“Doesn’t matter to me,” Doric said. “I will go and discover their fate. I will need a guide however. Vanstrom?”