Malevolenci Read online

  “Only we ageless remember.”

  “Only alterni endi can know.”

  Owen waved his hands over his head. “Wait. So you can tell Esme?”

  “Only alterni endi can know!”

  “Only alterni endi can know!”

  Esme looked at him, her face pale in the light of her single flame.

  A sane vampire spoke from her ledge. “We carry memories vast and complex. To share memories with a mortal can be…dangerous, alterni endi. Many here have gone mad from the weight of memories. If you truly are the last hope of the worlds, we fear breaking your mind as well.”

  The insane contingent of ancients grew louder, as if to prove her point.

  “We are the memory-keepers!”

  “We are the memory-keepers!”

  Another sane vampire leaned out of his nest. “And to share with you what King Daniel’s origini left us…”

  “Origini.”

  “Origini.”

  “Origini.”

  Owen looked around the den, surprised by their sudden reverence for his pseudo-uncle.

  Esme perked up. “So Trent Simons did give you memories to share with me?”

  “Yes,” answered another, “he was here.”

  A vampire frowned down at Esme. “The memories he left us were unlike any we’ve seen in all our hundreds of years. They prove true many whispers in the shadows. They confirm our purpose. They change everything.”

  “They might overpower your mind, alterni endi. They were the final straw for many here.”

  “We are the memory-keepers!”

  “We are ageless!”

  “We are the memory-keepers!”

  “We are the guardians!”

  “Enough!” Esme shouted. Looking down at her castorca, she widened her fingers and strengthened the fire to a large ball.

  The ancients around the cavern erupted in hisses. They scurried back from their ledges and covered their eyes. However, her point was taken, and the chanting vampires quieted.

  Esme softened her spell, and the light dimmed.

  Owen, his heart pounding, watched the ancients to make sure they stayed in line.

  When Esme spoke, she sounded calm but forceful. “I am the alterni endi. I’m the first one to ever know what that means for the alt-worlds. If Trent Simons left his memories with you, I want to see them. He wouldn’t have gone through the trouble of dealing with you people if it wasn’t important.” Her lips lifted in a grin. “And I’m something of memory-keeper myself. I can handle this.”

  A pause followed, and Owen looked around to see the ancients completely still. He suspected they were communicating telepathically, and he held his breath in anticipation.

  Their guide rose from his ledge and descended the steps. The others went quiet as he walked in silence to the center of the cavern. With a deep frown, he looked up where they stood on the stage of rock.

  Be ready. If he goes for Esme–

  “Long ago we were told that if an alterni endi ever came to us, we should share with you whatever you wished to know. But we have many hesitations in sharing the origini’s knowledge. His secrets that we keep…” The vampire’s eyes narrowed. “These secrets may break more than you. We ageless guardians fear unleashing madness on the world.”

  This started the ancients into another round of verbal tics.

  “We are the memory-keepers.”

  “We are the memory-keepers.”

  Esme focused on their ancient friend. “I understand that whatever you’re about to share with me is…big. Maybe something dangerous, even. But will it give me a way to destroy the malevolenci?”

  The ancient nodded. “Yes.”

  Esme took a breath. She looked at Owen.

  He lowered his head and whispered, “I said this was your call. If you’re sure, I’m sure.”

  She reached to squeeze his hand, then looked down at the vampire. “Then let’s do this.”

  The ancient climbed onto their stage. The vampires around the den were deathly silent, watching as their ancient guide lay flat on his back. Folding his arms across his chest in a very recognizable vampire pose, he looked up at Esme.

  “You must drink us dry, alterni endi.”

  Oh, fairy dust…

  Esme, her face catching the light of her flame, looked horrified. “What?”

  “We ageless carry memory in our blood. The blood must be shared for the memories to be passed. If you wish to learn all the origini meant for you to know, it will take much time to share the memories with you. That means you must drink until his memories pass into you. I suspect that will mean drinking me dry.”

  Owen frowned. “But won’t that kill you?”

  The ancient’s red eyes turned from Esme to Owen. “It is a great honor, King of the Order, to be chosen as the conduit for the alterni endi.”

  “But…” Owen looked around the den and lowered his voice. “Couldn’t one of the others do it? What about one of the insane ancients who…who maybe we could put out of their misery?”

  The vampire lying on the stone shook his head. “We who have fallen into madness are not safe conduits. We must offer a sound mind to pass memories cleanly.”

  Esme was stuck on another issue. “I have to drink your blood?”

  “Yes.” He looked back at her with a nod, his arms still crossed over his bare chest.

  “Drink all of it?”

  “Yes.” The vampire’s calm was somewhat infuriating.

  Esme hesitated. “Drinking your blood won’t make me…turn, will it?”

  “No. The curse in our ancient blood is still pure, but we will not complete the ritual to turn you. You will receive only our blood’s memories as you drink. You won’t even feel the effects as you do when our young healers share their blood. You will only receive our memories.”

  How can he be so calm? He’s going to let Esme suck him dry!

  Owen tried to think of a way out of this. “We can’t ask you to sacrifice yourself.”

  “We sacrifice ourself to protect the world, King of the Order. This has been our purpose since the beginning of the war. It is our only purpose.”

  “What does that mean? You’re not…” Owen felt his face pale. “You’re not our slaves, are you?”

  “Slaves…” The vampire tilted his head. “Yes, we know this word. In the beginning, when the conjuri imprisoned us to hold their knowledge, we agree this word applied. But for centuries since our escape, no conjuri or king has given us orders. We carry on in our purpose by our own choice. We are the ageless, and we grew much wiser than the conjuri. We guard their secrets even from them for the good of the world, keeping their memories sacred and safe. We hold these secrets until the hour of need. Until no hope remains.” He turned his head to Esme. “Until the alterni endi must know the truth to save our worlds.”

  “We are ageless.”

  “We are memory-keepers.”

  “We are guardians.”

  Owen, instead of being creeped out or annoyed by their chanting now, looked at the vampires with pity and sadness.

  Whatever’s going on, these vamps have done it all for the Order. They’ve closed themselves off to hide important secrets for centuries. They’ve followed the kings around the world in case the time came when their knowledge was needed. They’ve done everything so we could have answers when we ran out of hope. They knew it could take centuries and centuries while they waited in the dark.

  Owen felt sick. He looked at Esme. “This is so wrong. They’ve lived like this since the beginning. For us. Look what it’s done to them.”

  She nodded, sadness in her eyes.

  Owen looked around the den and cleared his throat. “I want to thank you. I humbly beg your forgiveness for whatever was done to you in the past. I didn’t know. I’m sorry your lives have come to this. The conjuri, Trent…” He paused, knowing he’d have to wrestle with his uncle’s involvement in this later. “They shouldn’t have put this burden on you. The Order has always done w
hatever it takes to hold back the malevolenci, but not at the cost of our own people. And you are my own people. From today onward, I’ll do everything in my power to help you live whatever lives you want. If what you’re sharing with Esme help us win the war, you should enjoy that peace the same as the rest of us.”

  The vampires shuffled in their nests but did not speak.

  Back on the stony platform, their ancient friend said, “We thank the King of the Order.”

  Owen exchanged an uncertain look with Esme.

  There’s a pretty big “but” hanging in the air. These vamps don’t have much hope, it seems. Did this life suck that from them too? We have to have hope! This war can’t go on.

  The faces of everyone Owen had lost to malevolenci again flashed through his mind. He saw the faces of his friends still living. And faces of paranormals he’d met over the years of his reign. And faces of average citizens who were blissfully unaware of the hell being fought on their behalf.

  We have to end this war. The ancients seem to think that whatever they know might not be worth the damage it’ll do. But no secret could be worse than another century or millennium of war! Even Roman would agree… Does Roman know about these ancients? If I find out that asshole–

  “Come, alterni endi,” said the sacrificial vampire. “Sit beside me. I will show you what to do.”

  Esme looked up at Owen.

  He pulled her into a hug and whispered in her ear, “I’ll be here in case anything goes wrong.”

  She whispered back, “After everything we’ve done, why am I so afraid of this?”

  He rested his chin on her head. “Because we have no idea what this will mean. And these crazy vamps aren’t even trying to pretend it’s no big deal. But you’ve got this, alterni. Remember, you’ve killed a freakin’ bentaforx – two now!”

  Esme chuckled against his chest, then took a courage-summoning breath. She stepped back from him, smiled in her fire’s light, and turned to sit on the cold stone beside the corpse-like vampire.

  Please be okay. Please be okay…

  She faced the ancient, holding her hand by her side so the flame illuminated them both. “What if I throw up?”

  “We’ve trained ourselves to bleed slowly, so you will ease into the drink. A slow pace also will make it easier for you to take in the memories. After a while, the memories will draw you in so you’re no longer aware of your surroundings or even your mouth on my neck.”

  Esme made a face, not looking reassured. “Okay. How do I…bite you?”

  The ancient reached up a bony fingernail and, without hesitation, sliced the side of his neck. In the light of Esme’s flame, Owen saw dark red blood trickle out of the ancient’s carotid artery.

  “Put your mouth to the cut,” the vampire guided. “Drink slowly at first.”

  Esme made a face but adjusted herself to half-sit, half-lie beside the bone-white vampire. Then she forced herself to put her lips over the cut in the ancient’s neck. Her eyes widened like she wanted to pull away in disgust, but she closed her eyes and forced herself to widen her mouth and suck. A smear of blood stained the vampire’s skin as her lips moved, and Owen watched in amazement as Esme drank and drank and drank.

  The cavern was silent except for the occasional sound of Esme’s sucking lips.

  I’m going to be sick.

  Owen was about to look away when suddenly Esme clearly was no longer conscious of her surroundings. Her expression of disgust faded as she lost awareness of what she was doing. Her whole body slumped into the vampire, though her head and mouth remained attached to the ancient’s bleeding neck.

  As her hand spelling the flame flopped to the floor, the light went out, and the sudden blackness…

  Oh, no. Oh, no.

  Esme was conscious of herself, but this wasn’t her life. Not her body. Not her time. She saw through eyes that weren’t her own, and so far she had no control over the body she was possessing.

  Sharing, she thought. I’m not really possessing Trent, so it’s more like we’re sharing his body at the time of this memory. Or at least, I’m along for the ride. Cat balls, this is weird.

  Trent Simon was a tall man even at seventy-five years of age, and his lanky strides quickly brought him to the Meramec Caverns doors. This was the busy season, and a happy crowd of tourists stood looking around the well-lit entrance cavern as Trent stepped into their midst. He wore jeans, farmer boots, and a simple T-shirt under a light coat. The old man scratched the stubble on his wrinkled face and looked at the crowds, scanning for danger by habit.

  I wish I could hear his thoughts. That would help more than anything! But I’m getting the hang of this. I can feel when his face frowns or smiles. I feel when his heart races in excitement or apprehension. I can sense his tiredness…his age. Trent came to Meramec shortly before he went off to Italy, right? This is toward the end of his life. He’s worn from years of battle.

  Trent’s aging joints ached as he walked. His body shivered from the cooler air of the caverns, and he zipped his thin coat. Esme felt these bodily reactions as dull sensations not entirely connected to her own senses.

  This must be the most current memory before he made the vampires drink his memories… And now I’m drinking them. Is my mouth still sucking– No, don’t think about that.

  Trent paid admission and joined the tourists to follow the guide into the wide open room with the disco ball. Trent kept to the rear, trying to blend in. Esme ignored the red-haired tour guide as the woman started her speech. However, seeing the caverns with the lights on now was odd – it was like a staged show as opposed to her earlier adventure’s rough spelunking.

  As the group moved through the rocky tunnels and along the watery walkway, Trent drew a modified illuso symbol on the back of the man in front of him. Trent waited until they reached a U-turn in the tour, then spun a ball of magic over his castorca and tossed it into the symbol. A thin ripple of magical light stretched from the symbol to Trent himself, lowering over his whole body like a laser scan. Trent then stepped to the side and used his castorca to draw an illuso on his own shoe, and a shield of invisibility washed over him.

  The aging origini held still as the guided tour moved on, and he watched a copy of himself walking behind the man with the illuso on his back.

  Wow. That’s a neat trick. I need to remember that one.

  Once the group was gone, the guide clicked off the lights for the section where Trent remained in hiding. As soon as the sounds of shuffling feet and whispered admiration faded, he spun his castorca-wearing fingers and ignited a ball of light to illuminate his path. With a smile, he swung his long legs over the railing and hopped into the freezing water. He hurried to the far side of the water, where a horizontal gap ran in the cavern wall.

  Oh! Now I know where I am!

  Esme wished she could help the older man as he scrambled up into the smaller cavern, crawled through, and exited the narrow space into the wider, uncharted cavern beyond. Once Trent stood erect again, he cracked his back and let out a groan before continuing on his way. He seemed exhausted, but Esme also felt his determination as he took long strides through the darkness.

  At last, he stood in the cavern with the vampires’ pool. He strengthened the fire over his castorca and tossed the ball of light into the air, then spread his fingers and pushed his arm up. This froze the crackling ball midair, and it hovered to light the whole cavern. Trent then paused and looked across the pool to the far wall of the cavern.

  This is when he makes the rift!

  Then something happened that Esme hadn’t expected.

  “Pay attention, alterni endi,” Trent said aloud in a deep, aged voice.

  Holy shit! He knows I’m here? How… Well, if he came here to leave me his memories, I guess it makes sense. He’s talking so I’ll hear this in the future…now…whatever.

  “If you really are the alterni endi, your magic will be strong enough to create a rift. You’ll be carrying all your origini’s creator magic, so you
should be able to do it with ease. This is how.” He smirked. “I hope you’re a rebel, alterni, because the Master Conjuri won’t like you doing this.”

  Despite the oddity of being inside this man’s memory as he talked to her, Esme felt better knowing Trent was so comfortable with her intrusion. And the way the old man spoke made her feel as if they were friends.

  Or like he’s my grandpa or something. I see why Owen thought of him as an uncle. Okay… This is what I’ve waited for. How did he create a rift into the malevolenci world?

  Trent stretched his arm with the castorca over the water and widened his fingers as if palming an invisible ball. He paused again in concentration, and Esme sensed his pulse quicken. Trent took a long breath to calm himself, then planted his feet and summoned magic through his castorca. Esme felt the swell of magic and also sensed Trent’s joy, apprehension, confidence, sadness, doubt – dozens of conflicting emotions all at once. But he pushed his feelings aside and looked at his hand as glowing magic swept over his castorca and crackled at his fingertips.

  When he couldn’t channel any more magic, Trent slowly twisted his widened fingers. It was like a spy using a glass cutter in any number of movies she’d seen. He made this slow rotation again and again, aiming across the pond.

  A curving cut of magic split the air where Trent aimed. He repeated the motion again and again, magic coursing through his hand. The magical cut sparked and continued to curve until a full circle formed. Trent drew his fingers in and made a punching motion, and the center of the circle across the pond warped like reality was about to break. Trent grunted and threw another punch of magic, and the warping circle shattered inward.

  Trent stepped back and dropped his tired arm, panting. He kept his eyes on the newborn rift as darkness filled the fresh tear. Lightning flashed from deep within the rift, and the escaping smoke began to flake on the ground.

  Esme watched all this in amazement, and she felt Trent’s emotions again as he stood and looked at his creation.

  “There. Now you know how to open a rift into their world. This is how to attack. I’ve been doing this in secret for a while now, fighting them alone, so I know I’ve weakened their numbers. But I’m too old to finish the job. If your origini refused to open rifts and fight as I have… Well, it might come down to you. You have to do this, alterni. It’s the only way to defeat them.” He sighed in exasperation. “I’m sure Roman will tell you all the arguments against opening rifts, but these are desperate times. Besides, I’ve seen for myself that this world’s magic is strong enough to heal them. Every time I come back through a rift, I termino it and everything’s fine. Also, you should know that the malevolenci can’t sense a rift opening from this world because the magic here will shield its presence. You don’t have to worry about them detecting your rifts like you can detect theirs – their world’s magic isn’t strong enough to let them sense anything in there.”