A Shade of Vampire 43: A House of Mysteries(42)

“I get that impression too. I mean, Bijarki must have spent time here before, but it’s not like the two of them exactly have an easy-going relationship. It’s more like commander and soldier.”

As I said the words, I thought about Bijarki’s behavior just now. It had felt like he was trying to protect the Druid from something concerning the Daughters. It had been unwelcomed, obviously, but the intention was there. I wondered if there was a deeper friendship there, between Draven and the incubus. One that both men navigated awkwardly, having spent both their lifetimes embroiled in a state of danger and war.

“Are you going to try to call on the Oracle?” Serena asked as we reached the top of the hallway. I could see her edging toward Elissa’s old room, clearly desperate to continue reading the diary.

“I’ll try. Don’t worry, I’ll call if I need anything, go ahead.” Getting back into the right state to receive visions would probably take a while anyway, and I didn’t want her impatience stressing me out.

“I’d probably only be annoying,” she replied, pulling a face.

“I know,” I said, pushing her toward the room and laughing.

I headed off to the bedroom, ready to attempt accessing another vision. Already exhausted from the last one, I had serious doubts that I’d manage again today, but I felt that the others were relying on me—too heavily, in fact.

Not for the first time, I wished Zerus was here. I could have done with his guidance, his understanding. I felt strangely lonely, even though I was surrounded by my friends—and it wasn’t like I was the only one having visions. I had no excuse or justification for the feeling, just that I felt it. It was painful, and I thought of Draven again, all alone here in this house. I felt a pang of guilt. We had been giving him a hard time, all of us, when he’d only been trying to help.





Serena





I took the diary back downstairs, thinking that I’d find a shady spot in the garden to read in. The garden was empty when I arrived, and I wondered where everyone had gone. Assuming they were either in the house somewhere, or around the entrance of the building, I found a magnolia tree to lean up against and opened up the diary again.

Almus has still not returned. It’s been three days and I don’t know what to do. I haven’t had any visions since he left, and so this afternoon I went in search of the herbs that we’d used to invoke my visions when I’d first arrived in Eritopia and fallen ill, halting their regularity for a short period.

I took Draven down to the basement with me, not wanting him to be left alone, but at the same time worried that he’d panic when I fell into a semi-conscious state. Still, I felt the risk was worth it—if anything happened to his father that I could have prevented, I would never forgive myself.

To my regret, none of the visions showed me Almus. I saw plenty of the Destroyers, and Azazel. None of it gave me any hope. I couldn’t see an end to their destruction of these planets, and that fleeting glimpse I’d seen of us trekking through the jungle in safety didn’t reappear.

Draven was a good boy, and sat silently playing with beakers and herbs while the visions consumed me. I worry about him. What if his father never comes home? Will it just be the two of us, alone in this house? Waiting for the end of days?

I can’t believe that’s our future.

God, this was depressing. I wanted to skip ahead, find out if Almus returned home to her and his son. I presumed that at some point he had, as he was here later to try to save the second, Nevertide Oracle, but what had happened to Elissa?

I turned the page, seeing another jump ahead in dates—about two months.

I am frightened that Almus will never return.

I am frightened every day. His son will grow up without a father, and I will have to go on without my rock, the man who showed me I could be happy again. The one person I felt saw my soul, who loved me despite the fact I couldn’t bear him children, who restored color to my life—literally, when he assisted in restoring my vision. How would I survive without him?

I try to take solace in Draven. I love the child, and I vow to care for him for the rest of my life, whether or not Almus returns to us.

How exactly had her vision been restored? I got the impression that fleeting comment was going to be the only answer I got, and it had obviously happened before she started writing the diary, and so was ancient history to her now. Damn.

I also felt a huge amount of pity for her. Two months would have been a long time to wait for him. No wonder it sounded like she’d given up hope of him ever returning. I hurriedly read on, desperate for Almus’s return. The breeze, thankfully, had started to pick up, sending petals scatting across the pages. I looked up in surprise, amazed to find that the breeze seemed restricted to where I was sitting. The rest of the grass and trees across the garden were perfectly still. The pages of the notebook ruffled, the pages whipping themselves up into a frenzy. I held on tight to the notebook, waiting for it to pass. Most likely the wind abnormality was just a small, irregular pocket of air bursting out in revolt against the heavy afternoon sun. I tried to refocus on the book, ignoring the strange sense of unease that crept over me.