“This time,” Dagan says, appearing behind me. “You go first.”
He shoves me through the portal.
Pain such as I’ve never known takes me. It’s worse than silver, worse than torture, worse than anything I’ve ever experienced in my existence. Coming into the Paths, the pressure was external, pressing into me. That at least made it bearable.
Coming out, going through the portal this way, it’s all from within, like a foreign energy fighting to get out. My body feels like it’s going to explode. Like my skin will rupture, and I will combust.
A burst of blistering light, then heat, then the coldest cold I’ve ever known takes hold of me. Then my feet hit solid ground, and I crumble down, gasping for breath, my knees unable to hold me.
“You disappoint me, son,” a grim voice says above my head.
I crane my neck up, and stare at the visage of my Father.
“A member of the Inner Circle needs to be strong. He needs to be mighty.” My Father starts circling me. “He cannot be seen grovelling…” Father plants a foot between my shoulder blades and applies pressure, “on the ground, like a pathetic worm!”
The sound of more feet landing comes. From the corners of my vision I see the vampires of my company stream out of the portal. They land right on their feet, none showing any ill-effects, and stream into formation by the far wall.
Military precision, I think.
“Good,” Father says. “The rest have arrived.”
Dagan comes through the portal last. He offers the King a respectful salute.
“You’ve brought my son back. Was the rest of the mission a success?”
“We ran into no problems,” Dagan answers. He goes to one knee, takes the amulet off, and offers it to my Father.
Father’s cascade of chains and rings rattle as he takes it from the larger vampire. It quickly disappears in one of his robe pockets.
I watch all that with half a mind, because, in truth, most of my attention is stolen by the vampires on the far wall.
I can feel their true strength.
The moment they came through the portal, I felt it. They’re not weaker than I am—not at all.
They are, each one, many, many times stronger than I.
How…?
It makes no sense. A vampire’s strength cannot simply change. And I knew their strength before, I felt their weakness, I spent time in their company!
Yet awareness of their new, collective strength crashes into me like a tidal wave. Some catch me looking. A few sneer.
One, so boyish in appearance that he might be confused for a woman, offers an apologetic shrug.
Dagan grabs me and hauls me to my feet. Embarrassment streams through me at being manhandled in front of my Father. I push off and steady myself.
If only I could somehow steady the turbulent thoughts in my mind.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Dagan says. Even his strength has expanded. He’s bigger, more powerful, more forceful than before. He looks at his retinue. “You are wondering… how.”
Father chuckles.
Dagan beckons for Riyu. Out of all the vampires, only his strength is unaltered.
Yet the stronger vampires regard him with reverence nonetheless.
“The King and I thought it prudent—” Dagan tilts his head to my Father, “—for us to take precautions before approaching The Haven. Riyu cast a spell on each of us that cloaked our strength.
“Because otherwise, how could we have gotten so close to your coven without arousing attention?”
Suddenly it all makes sense. Cloaking. That’s why I couldn’t exert control over any of them when Dagan left us alone in the caves.
“You’ve all done your duty,” Father says. “Go and enjoy the reward given to those who please me. Each of you will feast on a limitless supply of blood. And, at the end… you will be given a sip from the chalice.”
On that pronouncement, a raw hunger, a blistering excitement shines in the eyes of the vampires by the wall. I’m not immune. I feel it, too.
The chalice. The one Victoria told me of, the one that spreads The Ancient’s power.
Father looks at me. He sees my greed. “Not you, son,” he tells me.
That comes as no surprise. The fact that I so openly displayed my eagerness does.
The vampires file out of the chamber we’re in. Riyu is the last to leave. He stops and casts one look over his shoulder at me.
Then he’s gone.
But in that split-second, I catch a resemblance I never noticed before.
He looks like Father.
“It seems you have an admirer,” the King says softly.
I still the features on my face and don’t react to the provocation.
Father starts to walk away. “Come with me.”
I follow him through a series of empty halls. A set of doors lead into the throne room. Shivers crawl up my spine from my last memories of the place.