Irene heard the sailors, of course, long before they dragged her into the conversation.
“You can tell the difference, easy like,” said the ship’s bosun. Irene hadn’t caught his name, but he always wore the same patchwork hat. “Vampires can’t hide from a watchful eye, mark me.”
“I might be young, bosun,” said Third Mate Mai Leng, “but this sailor girl has been to Telloria plenty of times and stayed in plenty of dockside taverns. There’s no way to tell, believe me.”
“Which I don’t, ma’am, meaning no disrespect,” said Bosun Hat. “I’ve ranged the Tellorian coast up and down these past fifteen years, and I’ve seen plenty of vampires, like.”
Mai Leng narrowed her eyes. “Then why are you still breathing, mate?”
The conversation started heating. “’Cause they know better’n to attack a sailor, see? Water stops ‘em, mark me.”
Irene turned to hide her smile and looked out across the sea at the craggy coastline creeping along. Fructus Isle, her new home. Light green grasslands waved cheerily to her atop brilliant ivory cliffs. Too bright. Too bright by half. Not like Telloria at all. Telloria lay back the way they had come, out beyond the wake, trailing white across the deep blue sea. She looked back, and suppressed a sigh.
She heard Bosun Hat say, “Well there’s a Tellorian right there. You’re on friendly terms, right? Let’s ask, and five crowns says I’ve got the right of it.”
Mai Leng spat in her hand, and they shook on it. “Ten and done.” They came aft. Mai Leng asked nicely, “Irene, I wondered if we might trouble you a moment.”
Irene turned and leaned on the rail. “Yes, I heard. Keep your purses. You’re both wrong, but about different things.” A little ways forward, the helmsman shot her a glance, and listened. She continued, “Vampires are hard to spot at night, and easy in the daytime. Water means nothing to them, and they don’t give a fig about whether you’re a sailor. If one takes a liking to you, that’s it.” She snapped her fingers. “Dinner.”
Mai Leng nodded to the bosun. “There. You see?”
But the bosun wasn’t done. “Which of course day’d make it easy to spot ‘em. They’d turn to ash, like.”
Irene shook her head. “No, they can go out in the daytime, but they look like corpses. All skin stretched over bones. At night, it’s different. The mystique, as we call it. They look like anyone, if they want to. There are still signs, what with the grace and beauty. The way they move. You can watch for it, if you’re trained. But in the day, no. You can’t mistake them for anything else.”
The helmsman shifted uncomfortably at the wheel. Even Mai Leng frowned. “Never heard of that, Irene.”
“It’s not well known,” she said. “They can be killed in sunlight as easy as you or me, which is the main reason they avoid it. You can kill them at night, sure, but it’s difficult. Very, very difficult, believe me.” She got contemplative and murmured, “Believe me.”
Mai Leng glanced at the bosun, who clearly didn’t like the sound of that. Nor did anyone else. The deck had gone completely silent. She got a sly expression and said, a bit loudly, “She’s pulling our chains, mate. You know how Tellorians are. They love scaring the sense out of sailor types.”
Irene snorted. “Half the army is vampires. They couldn’t well defend Telloria only at night, could they?”
The bosun said, “No, no, that’s what them werewolves are for. Guards their crypts in the day, like.”
Irene didn’t laugh, but the absurd notion widened her smile. “Sorry, it’s not you, but… let’s just say the political map of Terlloria would be vastly different if only werewolves could walk the sun. Where did you get this notion?”
Bosun Hat’s defensiveness betrayed the wound she’d dealt. “Which it’s common knowledge, like!”
Irene shook her head. “Superstition more like.”
The bosun pushed back his hat and smirked. “Which Tellorians take all the cakes for superstitions, don’t they, miss? Not meaning any offense and all, but ye’d hear more tall tales dockside in Lusk than all other ports put together.”
His mention of Lusk brought a memory of home. Her mother’s face, ghostly in time, smiling. Bedtime stories. Heavy wood smoke from the blazing hearth. Her own tiny room. Which she’d never see again. Unless you give in, of course. She blinked the alien thought away. Stop it! she thought to the black place in her soul.
The bosun confided in Mai Leng, “Fables and nonsense, ma’am. And not a lick of truth among ‘em. They just like black moods is all.”
Irene’s good mood had vanished. “Even if they’re fables, there’s a grain of truth at each one’s core.”
The bosun kept on, “The whole country’s like that. All gray cloaks and buildings like mausoleums. They all got that thousand yard stare, and it’s practiced well enough.” He glanced at Irene. “Like that, exactly, miss. Not to be telling a passenger their business, and no offense intended, but I never met a Tellorian what couldn’t scare the life out of a party with a single ghost story, like.”
Irene’s mouth drew into a thin line, and she locked eyes with Bosun Hat. “And why not?” Her blood stirred. “Ours is a land of deep shadows and silent forests where the mists swallow the sun every eve. Where the people shutter themselves in homes with no windows and leave terrified offerings beyond the door. Where a single sound beneath the moon brings hunting eyes in the dark. Where women strangle their own babes from fright, and men pray to forgotten gods for a dawn that lingers long beyond the eastern mountains. And, when day does come, creeping reluctantly over distant peaks, what evidence remains of the night’s passing? Scraps of flesh and a bloody trail from an empty house, its smashed door gaping like a toothless maw. Not a track. Not a scent. Not a single sign of the visitor which came calling. That is Telloria, my dear sir, land of blood and darkness, where only an old wives’ tale might shepherd you through to dawn. So stick to the sea, and sleep aboard ship, lest the eyes catch you unawares beneath the moon.”
They stared at her, Mai Leng’s eyes big, and the bosun’s mouth slack with shock. Mai Leng recovered and stepped close. “Your eyes have turned solid black.”
“Helmsman!” shouted the captain from the quarterdeck. “Clap a hand on that wheel, you whoreson beast!”
The sailor jerked away from Irene’s discourse and wrestled the ship back to her proper course. Irene blinked, and stepped back. She took a steadying breath. “I’m sorry!”
Mai Leng glanced from her to the bosun and back. He was looking for words. The captain’s shadow fell across them. He spoke to all three. “What’s going on here?”
The bosun pointed at Irene, “She’s—!”
Mai Leng pushed a purse into his hand. “—helping us with a wager. Your winnings, bosun, though I reserve the right to win them back ashore at the gambling house, if you’re game.”
The bosun looked at the purse, Irene, then Mai Leng. “I—well, I… Aye, that’s fair.”
The captain said, “Fine. You have duties, bosun.”
The bosun saluted, “Aye, sir.” He headed forward with many backwards glances at Irene.
The captain continued, “Third Mate, we’ll make port by two bells in the first dog. Your watch, I believe? You’ll take us in.”
She saluted. “Aye, sir.”
He bowed briefly to Irene, and went below. Mai Leng looked at Irene with cautious eyes. The deck was still silent and all eyes were on them.
“I’m sorry,” said Irene.
“Go below,” she murmured.
“It’s—“
“Trust me, and go. Now.”
Irene went below to her tiny cabin and sat on the rickety stool beneath a lonely, swaying lamp. Why take order from a mortal? the darkness asked. “She’s my friend. She was trying to help. And that was a filthy trick you pulled.”
That amused the darkness. I? You brought it forth.
“I am not listening to this. Go away.”
It receded.
She sat and thought about nothing for a long while in the creaking cabin. Water hissed along the boat’s side and she heard sailors working the deck. The ship’s bell tolled through the watches, every half hour. She tried to get a little sleep, but it wouldn’t come no matter how comfortable the hammock, the first she’d ever used.
She dug out her journal and attempted to write despite the rolling deck. Fortunately the ship rode an even swell, and her hand was neat and trim. Her journal was an indulgence, one a spy ought not afford, but it was written in her personal code, one taught by her mother and known to no one living.
I shouldn’t have gotten angry. Mai Leng is a gentle soul, and was only teasing, and the bosun was an ass, but I’d already scared him. I should know better. But the thing in my head pushed me. I can see it now, looking back, but I couldn’t keep it in check. Is it this exile weakening my resolve already? That’s exactly what the Sovereign wants. And if I let this damn thing get hold of me on ship when talking to a friend, then what can I expect when we reach Fructus City? There’ll be people, people, and more people, and none of them near as friendly as Mai Leng.
I’m glad there’ll be work, even if I’m stuck dealing with Gregorio. At least I’m not the old bat’s subordinate. The Sovereign made that very clear. At work I’m playing a role, keeping my head in the game at all times. At work a slip can mean failure at best. Death at worst. At work the Gift will be easier to ignore.
A tentative knock at the door, and she closed her journal. It was the young master’s mate, voice cracking with adolescence. “The deck’s compliments, ma’am, and the officer of the watch asks if you’d like to join her on the quarterdeck.”
Mai Leng was the only female officer that stood a watch. “Tell her I’ll be up shortly. With my thanks.”
Irene sat alone for another moment, took a deep breath, and went on deck. She was surprised to find it near dusk already, but there was no telling day from night in her cabin below. Mai Leng motioned her over to the quarterdeck’s windward side. She pointed over the darkening sea. “Port Fructus and the city beyond.”
The setting sun backlit the Grand Cathedral and its six spires. It looked like a fortress of hope and light, and spread protective arms around the city below. Beneath the cathedral and on down the hillside, tiny lights winked on in increasing numbers as the cathedral’s shadow stretched towards the harbor, a tapestry of twinkling stars. The harbor itself bustled with activity as fishermen brought their vessels in before dark and merchantmen were towed into the offing for the tide that would soon turn.
“Clew up,” Mai Leng told the bosun, who kept his eyes deliberately off Irene. “Single reefed tops, and stand by the anchor. Make the signal for a pilot.”
Mai Leng looked at Irene as the bosun’s pipe got to work and hands swarmed the deck and rigging. She smiled wide, and kept her voice low. “If I hadn’t already suspected you weren’t a merchant, your expression now would’ve planted one. You’ve clearly never been here before.”
Irene shook her head. “I’ve never seen anything quite like that.”
“And Fructus City is nothing. You should see Qualat Mon. Or my home city, Kol Han. We know a thing or three about seaside fortresses in Achrion. So, since you’re clearly not a merchant, what are you doing out here? Escaped prisoner? Refugee? Ohh wait, you’re fleeing a fixed marriage! That’d be very romantic.”
Between the shining cathedral and Mai Leng’s bright smile, Irene’s spirit lightened. “Nothing so amazing, I assure you.” She thought of half a dozen cover stories in an instant, but somehow that seemed to be a darker road. She liked Mai Leng. She could win more with the truth. “I’m an exile.”
“Even better! What was your crime? Was it scandalous?”
“Almost. I refused the Gift.” She felt better after saying it. Like the darkness had shrunk for a moment.
Mai Leng shrugged. “And? I’ve refused all kinds of gifts. You wouldn’t believe some of the disgusting things sailors think will impress a lady—“
Irene kept her voice low. “No, not a gift. The Gift. Remember earlier? When my eyes…”
Mai Leng sobered. “Oh. What was that? I mean, you’re not a vampire. … Are you?”
Irene shook her head. “No. At least… It’s something that can happen to Tellorians. Or really anyone that spends too much time there. The Gift comes. When you give in—”
Mai Leng’s eyes flared. “You turn into—into—“
“Vampires or werewolves. Or worse.”
Mai Leng took a step back. “It’s not catching is it?”
“Keep your voice down. No. It’s not like that. The stories you hear about being bitten aren’t true. Again, if they were, the political map in Telloria would be vastly different. If the nobility could pick and choose who got Gifted… I shudder to think at some of the regimes that would’ve cropped up after Old King Goritsi was murdered way back when.”
“Your Sovereign is Queen Goritsi though, and she’s a vampire now. Wasn’t she married to him before?“
Irene shook her head. “No. She’d have you believe it, but even she isn’t that ancient. The Goritsi title is for her house and all those brought in. There are some mortal Goritsi’s, of course, ‘children of the damned,’ as they hate to be called. They’re nobility but only technically. Not many gain any true power without the Gift. And, if it’s like that for the nobles, imagine how the lower classes are treated.” She thought back to her mother, long gone. “It’s why I do what I do.”
“And what is it you do?”
“I—Help. Where I can. The Sovereign isn’t the kindest soul, but she has a care for the underclasses. She was ecstatic when the Gift came upon me. But I don’t want it, for lots of reasons. And that’s why I’m exiled to Fructus. She was furious.”
Mai Leng had stopped smiling, but she betrayed no hint of fear. “So… you’re an almost-vampire political refugee that knows Queen Goritsi?” She grinned. “I’d stick with merchant.”
Their laughter drew attention across the deck. They quieted quickly, and Irene wiped away tears. “Oh, that felt good. I haven’t laughed in a long, long time.” And even the darkness in her soul had lightened. “Well I’m glad. I’m sorry I snapped at you before, but—“ “No, no. You thought fast.”
“I’m glad we’re nearly ashore. This is a good crew, but even the payoff won’t hold long. You did get pretty scary there.” She paused and considered. “Listen. I wonder if you might not put some of that scary to use on my behalf? By way of a favor. I may have some trouble waiting for me ashore.”
Irene’s mood subdued. “What kind of trouble?”
“I owe a guy money. Gambling debt, basically, and I just handed the bosun most of my spare change. I’ve got the cash, and I can pay him back, but I’m not so sure he won’t pull a fast one.”
“I’m familiar with the type. Yes, I can help.”
“Things shouldn’t turn ugly. I was thinking to bring some of the crew, but I don’t want them involved. Last time… well, the captain will throw me off the ship if I cost him any more prime hands.”
“Last time!” Irene snickered and was about to inquire further when the lookout signaled. The pilot was coming aboard. He came up the side, a thorough seaman, but decidedly harbor trash, foul-smelling and leering.
Irene ignored him, but couldn’t help overhear.“Oh, yer the third mate, is ye? Message.” He passed Mai Leng a stained note. “Now, let’s get me my coin and get yer ship in. Tide’s a slackin’.”
Mai Leng glanced at the note, paled, and shot Irene a quick look. But there was no time. She had the watch and set about putting the ship into berth. Irene went below, put her dunnage in order, and secured her weapons: a long blade at her hip, a matching dagger, and two hidden knives up her sleeves.
Expecting a fight, are we?
“Shut up.”
Mai Leng met her back on deck, still a little skittish. “He’s here. I thought I’d meet him at the tavern, but he’s on the dock. He brought some friends.”
They were fully in the Cathedral’s shadow now, and stars had begun twinkling overhead. Irene had no trouble making out the burly man in scaled armor with four even bigger thugs. They waited at the top of the quay, where anyone disembarking would have to pass if they intended to go farther than the dock.
Irene said, “Don’t go ashore just yet,” and climbed the shrouds into the top. She scanned the dockyard. Snipers? None. Backup? None. Official ‘witnesses’? None. “Amateur night,” she muttered. Although they were five to her two, and she had no idea how well Mai Leng could fight. She herself might do five. Maybe. With surprise. A big surprise.
Or help.
“Shut up.” She climbed back down. “Seems simple enough. You’re just paying him off, right? Okay. I’ll be right behind you.”
Mai Leng let out a long breath and gripped her saber hilt. “Okay.” All hint of nervousness left her as she set foot on land. She walked with a sailor’s rolling gait, feet freshly ashore, and planted herself squarely in front of the greasy leader. “Hello, Sarghen.”
He grinned, gap-toothed and yellow. “Little Leng. What, no crew? Was looking forward to thumping some wetfeet.”
“The ship isn’t even fifty yards away, and we sailors have loud voices. But we don’t need my crew to handle you and yours.”
“’We’ is it?” He looked Irene up and down. “Pretty little thing. Too pretty by half. Is she the ‘payment’, I hope?”
Mai Leng spat. “Slavery is your trade, Sarghen, not mine.” She pulled out a leather purse and bounced it in her hand, jingling. “Here. You want to get rid of the welcoming committee before I hand it over?”
His ugly laugh had no humor. “Well, see, there’s this thing. Payment’s gone up. Interest, you know. And you’re not paying me anymore. I’ve sold your debt for a shiny coin or three. So, you’re coming with me to the new debt holder. It’s up to him now.”
The purse stopped moving in Mai Leng’s hand. “You can’t sell me. I’m a citizen of Achrion.”
“Sold your debt, Little Leng. Not you.” He scratched the back of his neck. “Course, I dunno. Maybe he’d let you pay it off by those real generous terms I offered last time.”
Mai Leng’s hand went to her blade. Everyone tensed. “Not on your life.”
Irene saw her next few moves clearly. None of them had neck protection except Sarghen. Two knives to two throats. They’d start to move then. Sarghen’s weak points were his armpits, face, and back of his knees. Her blood stirred. If he made a grab for Mai Leng—
One of the thugs tapped Sarghen’s shoulder. “Uh. Boss?” He pointed down the cobbled street.
A bald vampire approached with two bodyguards. The guards wore very loose-fit armor built for frames half again their size. They spread out to flank the thugs by some unseen signal. Pack tactics.
Irene sucked in a breath. “Oh for fuck’s sake.”
The vampire stalked forward, surveyed the scene, and smiled at her, all fangs. “Lady Irene. What interesting acquaintances you make.”
“Gregorio,” Irene said. “This is Sarghen. Local thug, amateur bather, and aspiring corpse.”
His smile broadened. “Do you require assistance, or shall I just handle the betting pool?”
“It wasn’t my move.” She looked at Sarghen, who couldn’t keep wide eyes off the vampire.
“I… look, no trouble to be had here, your lordship.” He started backing away. “Leng, we’ll talk later.”
“I wouldn’t advise it,” Irene said.
Sarghen gulped. “Ain’t up to me, but… well.” He and his thugs beat a hasty retreat. Mai Leng didn’t relax. She stared at Gregorio with morbid curiosity, hand still gripped on her hilt.
TGregorio spread his hands wide, fingers a bit too long, talons instead of nails. “So, who owes me a thank you?”
“No one,” Irene said. “I had it handled.”
“Come now. You’re good, but I’d have put my money on the other side, if only by a neck.”
“Why are you here?”
He shrugged. “You’ve been expected these last three days. I’m glad to see your ship is finally in. I’m rather amused to find you meeting Sarghen. Was it truly coincidence?”
Her turn to shrug. “Why? Who is he?”“Ah,” he said. “An agent. Of sorts.” He spared a glance at Mai Leng. “Oh, and forgive me stealing her away from you, miss…?”
“Third Mate Leng.”
“Ah ha, so we have you to thank for her safe passage. House Goritsi extends its good graces to you, madam.” He bowed in courtly fashion. “If you would be so kind as to forgive a mere verbal invitation to your captain, it would be my singular honor to entertain you and your officers at dinner in Goritsi tower tomorrow evening, for now, however, adieu.” He motioned to Irene. “Come, Lady Irene. Let me acquaint you with the rules of your new home, and the intriguing games we play.”
Irene grumbled at his retreating back, but started to follow.
Mai Leng grabbed her arm. “He called you Lady Irene! So it’s true? All of it? You really are an exiled vampire noble?”
Irene sighed. “Yes. My full name is Irene von Goritsi. ’Merchant’ would’ve been so much easier, no?” Her smile was wan. “But I’m not a vampire yet. I’ll see you tomorrow.”