The room was dim when I opened my eyes. It was lit only by the first grey light of dawn seeping through the window. I was still sitting in the chair. My back ached, my neck was stiff, and my heart was slamming against my ribs. I had that horrible dream again. Valhol. Nicholas. The snow. The knife.
I gripped the arms of the chair and forced myself to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. The way Ms. Flores had taught us during sparring sessions when our
adrenaline got too high.
It didn't help much. My hands were still shaking badly.
I pushed myself up and walked over to the window, my legs unsteady beneath me. I pulled the curtain aside and looked out. The sun was barely up, painting the sky in shades of pale orangeand grey. The street below was mostly empty. A few early risers moved along the edges of the market, setting up shop, hauling goods. It would be around six, maybe.
I let the curtain fall and turned back to the room. Scott was still asleep, sprawled across the bed with his mouth slightly open. A soft snore escaped him every few breaths. He looked like he hadn't moved since I'd sat down.
I rubbed my face with both hands. This was the second time. The second time I'd fallen asleep and woken up as someone else. The second time I'd been Nicholas, living through the worst moments of his life. And from the things I kept seeing, I had a bad feeling this Nicholas wasn't just my
imagination going into overdrive. I thought about the feel of the snow. The weight of Bran's cold body in my arms. The way Niall had looked at me, grinning eerily.
That wasn't a hallucination. It felt too real. I'd only heard of Valhol from my fake parents, and later in school. If these dreams were real, if this Nicholas might be who I
think he was, then I would need to find answers. Quick.
Was this going to happen every time I closed my eyes to sleep? Was I going to keep reliving some nightmare over and over until I went insane?
"Okay," I said out loud, taking another deep breath, "I just have to relax. I'll figure
this out. Somehow."
Behind me, Scott stirred.
I heard the rustle of sheets, then a yawn, long and drawn out. I turned to see him sitting up, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms.
"Morning," he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "You sleep at all?"
I forced a smile. "Yeah. Just a little."
He blinked at me, still half-awake, and scratched the back of his head. "You look like hell, man."
"Thanks. You look great too."
Scott yawned again and swung his legs over the side of the bed. He stretched, his joints popping, and looked around the room. "So," he said. "What's the plan for today?"
I sat back down in the chair, glancing at the door to make sure it was closed. Then I looked at Scott.
"I talked with Val last night," I said. "After you fell asleep."
Scott raised an eyebrow. "Val? The town chief? What did she want?"
"She knows."
Scott's expression changed.
The sleep faded from his eyes immediately. "Knows what?"
"About us. She figured it out somehow. Saw right through my lie."
Scott was on his feet in an instant. "And you're just telling me this now? We need to get out of here! "
"We can't."
"What do you mean we
can't?"
"The only way out is through the gates, and they're guarded. Even if we somehow got past them, we'd have to cross miles of open desert on foot. With no food or transport, and no idea where we're going. We'd be caught in minutes, hours at best."
Scott ran a hand through his hair, pacing the small room. "So why aren't we dead? Why hasn't she arrested us?"
I took a breath. "Because she doesn't want to. She wants our help."
Scott stopped pacing. "Help with what?"
"A rebellion."
He stared at me. "A rebellion."
"Yeah."
"Against who exactly?"
"The wizards. They're the ones who rule this place." I leaned forward, resting my elbows on my knees. "She's been planning it for a while with some of the other chiefs. The Sanguine Expanse and one other region are already on board. They need people who canhelp them stand against the wizards. That's where we come in."
Scott was quiet for a while, before he said, "Woah. That's… that's huge." He shook his head. "Is that really the best thing to do? We should be trying to get back home, not
instigating a war."
"Getting back home isn't going to stop them, Scott. They killed everyone we loved. What's to stop them from doing it again? From hitting other schools? What if they find a way back to Earth completely?" I met his eyes. "If that happens, it's another war. A
bigger one. And we'd be right in the middle of it."
Scott didn't respond.
"We need to stop them here," I said. "Before they get that chance. And…" I paused. "And we need to avenge our friends."
Scott looked at me. I could see the conflict in his face. The part of him that wanted to run, to hide, to find a way back to normal. And the part of him that knew I was right.
"Does Zoë know?" he asked finally.
I shook my head. "Not yet."
Scott nodded slowly. "Then now would be a good time to tell her."
We left the room and walked down the narrow hallway to Zoë's door. I knocked twice, my knuckles rapping against the worn wood. For a moment there was nothing, until we heard the sound of footsteps, and then the door creaked open.
Zoë stood in the doorway, her hair still messy from sleep. She was already dressed in her new clothes, but she looked like she hadn't slept much either.
"You two ready to leave?" she asked, her voice flat.
Scott and I exchanged a glance. Then I said, "Yeah. But before we go, you need to know something."
She folded her arms, leaning against the doorframe. "What?"
I told her everything about Val, the rebellion, and the deal I struck.
When I finished, Zoë was quiet for a long moment. Her expression didn't change, but I could see something flickering behind her eyes. Something cold.
"So you made this decision for all of us," she said slowly. "Without asking us first."
"I didn't have a choice," I said. "It was either agree to help her, or we'd be caught. She already knew what we were, so she could have turned us in, but she didn't. This
was the only way."
"The only way," Zoë repeated. "Or the only way you wanted."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
She stepped forward, her voice rising. "It means you're fine with this. You're fine with killing wizards and starting a war just because you want revenge. That's what this is about, isn't it? You don't care about the rebellion. You don't care about these
people. You just want to hurt the ones who hurt us."
"And what the hell is wrong with that?" I shot back. "They killed our friends! They destroyed our school and everyone in it. You think we should just run home and forget about it!?"
"I think we have no business getting involved in a war we don't understand!" Zoë's voice cracked. "We're not soldiers, Darmian. You think I'm not angry about what they did? We both lost our friends! But the best way to avenge them is reporting everything to the continental organisation.
They can handle this."
"And how do we get home, Zoë? The orb is dead and it needs a wizard to recharge it. You want to walk up to one and ask them nicely?"
She flinched, but didn't back down. "We'll find another way."
"There is no other way!" I stepped closer, my voice rising to match hers. "Our only way home is to force the wizards. And the only way to stop them from coming to our world is to fight them here. Running away won't solve anything. It just delays the inevitable."
"So you're just going to fight a war for a cause you don't even believe in? For people you don't even know?"
"I believe in killing the bastards who murdered our friends. That's enough for me."
"That's not enough for me!"
"Then maybe you should stay behind!"
The words hung in the air between us. Zoë's face went pale, then red. Her hands clenched at her sides.
"You have no right to make decisions for us," she said, her voice shaking. "You have no right to drag us into this."
"I'm keeping us alive!" I shouted. "If I hadn't made that deal, we'd be dead by now, or worse. You think Dorian would have just let us go? How is this even so hard for you to understand?"
"We wouldn't be in this mess if it weren't for you!" she yelled back. "You're the one who got us found out in the first place!"
I felt my chest tighten, my jaw clench. I
wanted to argue, to defend myself, but a part of me knew she was right. I had gotten us in this mess. But I wasn't going to admit that. Not now.
"Enough!" Scott stepped between us, his hands raised. "Both of you, stop. This isn't helping anyone."
I turned away, my hands shaking. "If she wants to stay back and get herself killed, then fine. I'm done."
"Darmian, wait," Scott started.
But I was already walking, down the hallway and out the front door.
The morning air hit my face, cold and sharp. The sun was fully up now, casting long shadows across the empty street. I stood there, breathing hard, my fists still clenched tightly. I didn't know where I was going. I just knew I couldn't stay in that room.
The woman from the lobby was leaning against a wooden post near the front of the lodge, her arms crossed while she scanned the street. Three horses were tethered to the post behind her, their coats dusty and their saddles worn. They weren't the sleek, powerful animals I'd seen Geoffrey and his men ride. These were sturdy, patient-looking
creatures with thick legs and calm eyes.
I walked up to her. "I'm guessing you're with Val?"
She looked me up and down, her expression unreadable. "You took your time getting ready. The wizards could show up any time." She glanced back at the lodge. "Where are the other two?"
"Inside. They'll be out in a minute."
She reached into her coat and pulled out a folded piece of paper, handing it to me. I unfolded it revealing a detailed hand-drawn map, with routes marked in dark ink.
"This is the route to Varesh," she said, tapping a spot on the paper. "Five hours on horseback, give or take. You'll pass a small warden checkpoint about halfway there. They'll ask for a pass."
My stomach tightened. "And we don't have one."
"Well you do now." She handed me a small card, stamped with an orange mark. "Forged obviously, so don't do something stupid like handing it over. Flash it quick and keep it moving. If they get a good look at it, they'll know it's fake."
I turned the pass over in my hand. "Pretty risky, don't you think?"
"You signed up for it." She shrugged. "Everything about the rebellion is risky."
I pocketed the pass and looked at the horses. "So, are these… normal horses?"
"Regular breeds. Val didn't have time to get tech breeds."
"Tech breeds?"
She ignored the question and continued. "You'll need to give them water halfway through. Five hours under the sun is hard on them. Flasks are on the saddle." She pointed to the leather pouches hanging from each horse's side.
"I haven't ridden one before," I admitted. "Not by myself."
I expected her to laugh, but she didn't. She just walked to the nearest horse and swung into the saddle with practiced ease. "It's not hard. They're good girls, so they're not feisty. But that also means they're not exactly the fastest. Don't expect them to outrun anything, so try not to get into trouble."
She demonstrated how to hold the reins, how to guide the animal with pressure from her knees, how to sit tall and steady. I watched, trying to memorize every movement.
"You'll get the hang of it," she said. "Or you'll get thrown off. Either way, try not to panic and you'll be fine."
I nodded, though I wasn't sure I believed her.
"Val told me to look out for the red spot," I said. "If you know what that means."
She looked at me, a flicker of something passing across her face. "The red spot is the flag of the rebellion. Once you get to Varesh, search for it. Anywhere you see it is where
the hidden base is."
I nodded. "Got it. Anything else Val mention?"
She climbed off the horse and handed me the reins. "Try not to get yourself killed. There's a lot riding on you three now. Be careful."
I nodded. "We will."
She turned and walked away, disappearing around the corner of the lodge. I stood there, holding the reins, watching her go.
A few minutes passed. Then the lodge door opened and Scott stepped out, followed by Zoë. She was still wearing that hard expression. Scott looked flustered, his hands moving awkwardly at his sides like he didn't know what to do with them.
"Let's go," I said, my voice flat. "We need to move before Dorian arrives."
They both climbed onto their horses and I showed them how to hold the reins, how to guide the animals with pressure from their knees. Both of them got it quickly.
"Where are we heading?" Scott asked.
"Varesh," I said. "Next town over. We need to deliver an invoice."
"An invoice?"
"I'll explain on the way."
I nudged my horse forward and they followed. We rode through the streets of Drybrook, past the market and the workshops and the houses, until we reached the city gates. The guards barely glanced at us. To them, we were probably just another group of travelers heading out into the Expanse.
We passed through without incident.
The sun was fully up now, blazing down from a pale blue sky. The heat hit us immediately, radiating off the sand in shimmering waves. I pulled my collar up and kept my eyes on the road.
The path led away from the city gates and onto a wider highway, a dusty track carved into the red earth. Other riders moved along it in both directions. Some overtook us, their
horses faster and more sure-footed. We overtook others, slower carts and wagons
piled with goods.
The ride was bumpy at first. My horse shifted and snorted, testing my grip on the reins. But after a while, we found rhythm. The animal settled into a steady pace, its hooves beating a soft drum against the sand. The heat was intense, but not unbearable. I kept the water flasks in reach, ready to pour some into my palm and let the
horse drink once it began to slow.
An hour passed.
Scott rode up beside me, matching his horse with my pace. He was quiet for a while before he said, "You going to clear things up with Zoë?"
I didn't look at him. "There's nothing to clear up."
"Come on, man. I've never seen you shout at her like that before. You two are usually…" He trailed off, searching for the right word. "You know, you're usually good."
I sighed. "I got a little carried away. I admit that. But I don't understand why she can't see that this was the only option."
Scott thought for a moment. Then he said, "She's scared, Darmian. We all are. And when people are scared, they don't always think straight. You know that."
I didn't respond.
"She's got a point, too," Scott continued. "We didn't sign up to fight a war. Even you have to admit, this is way above what we're trained for."
"And what's the alternative?" I asked. "Run home and hide? Wait for the wizards to find us again?"
"I'm not saying that, I'm just saying…" He paused. "You both have valid points. That's all. And you need to talk about it. It's awkward being in the middle while things are like this."
I let out a breath. "I will. But not now. Right now, I just want to focus on getting this letter
delivered."
Scott nodded. "Fair enough."
We rode on in silence, the sun climbing higher, the desert stretching out around us in every direction.
Another hour and some odd minutes passed before we reached a bridge. It spanned a wide canyon; a thin strip of stone and rope suspended over a drop that made my stomach clench just from looking at it. The canyon itself was a jagged scar in the earth with red walls and its bottom lost completely in shadows. The bridge looked old. Ancient, even. But it was the only way across.
And it was completely backed up.
A line of riders and wagons stretched from the bridge all the way back to where we sat on our horses, a good two kilometers of one-way traffic. Disgruntled faces filled the
queue. People were fanning themselves with hats, wiping sweat from their brows,
cursing under their breath. The heat was brutal, beating down on us from a
cloudless sky, and the animals weren't having a better time either. Their heads
hung low, their flanks heaving.
We slowed to a stop behind the rider in front of us. A man on a tired-looking horse who kept glancing at the queue like he was hoping it would disappear.
Ten minutes passed. Nothing moved.
Scott let out a curse. "I can't believe traffic is still a thing in another world. This is
ridiculous."
Zoë wiped her forehead with the back of her hand. "I can't take another ten minutes under this sun. My head is pounding."
Soon enough our horses began
to get restless. The one I was on stamped its hooves and snorted, shaking its head. I could feel the heat radiating off its coat, and the way its ears drooped. If we didn't start moving soon, they'd finish all the water before we got to Varesh.
I swung down from the saddle, my shoes hitting the hard-packed earth with a thud. "Watch my horse," I said. "I'm going to check what the hold-up is."
I walked forward, weaving between the stopped riders and carts. The line stretched on, a river of frustration and sweat (which did not smell great). I passed a carriage with a
group of women inside, all of them complaining loudly about the heat and the
delay and the incompetence of whoever was responsible. The driver, a middle-aged man with a sun-reddened face, was wiping his brow with a rag.
I stopped beside, trying to look casual. "Any idea what the problem is?"
He looked at me, his eyes tired. "Wardens up front. They're not letting anyone pass the bridge. Been like this for nearly two hours."
Two hours. My stomach dropped.
"Any idea why?" I asked, keeping my voice casual.
He shook his head. "No one's telling us anything. Damned wizards are just standing there, blocking the way. Some people are saying they're looking for someone. Others are saying it's just a routine check, but I don't see why that should be taking so long. Either way, we're stuck."
I nodded slowly, my mind already racing. Looking for someone. That could mean anything. But given everything that had happened, I had a bad feeling about it.
I thanked the driver and headed back to Scott and Zoë.
"What's going on?" Scott asked as I approached.
"Wardens," I said, keeping my voice low. "They're stopping everyone. Been at it for two hours."
Zoë's face tightened. "They're looking for us."
"Maybe," I said. "Or maybe it's something completely different. Either way, we need to be careful."
Scott glanced at the line, then back at me. "So what do we do?"
I looked at the line of people ahead of us, the wardens in the distance, the bridge that was our only way across.
"I don't know yet," I admitted.
A couple more minutes passed and nothing changed. I needed to do something or the heat would make me go crazy.
I turned to Scott and Zoë. "I'm going to go talk to them."
Scott's eyes went wide. "What? No. That's a terrible idea."
"We don't really have a choice," I said. "We can't just sit here and roast. And if they're looking for us, waiting won't make it better. It'll just give them time to organize."
Zoë shook her head. "That's insane. How are you even going to convince them?"
"I'll use the pass."
"You said that it's for the checkpoint, not whatever this is," Zoë argued.
"Right now, it's all we've got." I reached into my pocket and pulled out the forged pass, holding it up. "I'll be fine. If anything goes wrong, I'll handle it."
"You can't handle multiple wizards by yourself," Scott said.
"I won't have to." I looked at both of them. "But if things go south, you two should be ready."
Zoë opened her mouth to argue, but I was already walking.
I moved forward, weaving through the line, my eyes fixed on the bridge. I felt different. More confident. Talking to wizards should've scared me, but it didn't, and I wasn't sure why. Maybe it was the anger that had been simmering since my argument with Zoë. Maybe it was just the heat making me reckless.
Whatever it was, I wasn't afraid.
At the front of the line, the crowd around the wardens was thick. People were pressed around them from all sides, their voices overlapping in a chaotic mess. I heard some pleading, some shouting, while others were just standing there with exhausted looks on their faces. A woman with a basket of fruit was explaining that her goods would spoil. A man with a red face was demanding to know how long this would take. Another man was just cursing at the sky.
If not for the small crowd gathered around them, I wasn't sure I would have been able to identify the wardens. They were dressed in regular clothing. No armor or cloaks. Just
simple tunics and trousers, like everyone else.
There were three of them. Two men and one woman. The woman was the one dealing with the crowd. She was visibly irritated, her jaw tight, her eyes narrowed. She had been listening to people plead for two hours, and she was clearly done.
I maneuvered my way past the crowd, ducking under arms and slipping between bodies. I reached the edge of the group and stopped, waiting for the right moment.
The woman warden turned slightly, and I caught her eye.
"Excuse me," I said, my voice steady. "I was sent from Drybrook. By the Chief herself. I need to deliver something in Varesh."
That got her attention.
She turned fully, her eyes narrowing as she looked me up and down. "Anyone can say that."
I kept my face neutral. "Try me."
She stepped closer, her voice dropping so only I could hear. "Lying to a warden officer is a criminal offence. So if you're trying to take a cheap way out, you should be careful."
I met her gaze. "I'm telling the truth."
She studied me carefully. I could feel my heart pounding, but I kept my breathing steady. If this went wrong, if she saw through my pass, we were done.
"Got any proof of what you're saying?" she asked.
"Just a pass stamped by the Chief herself," I said coyly.
She held out her hand. "Let me see it."
I hesitated for half a second. The instructions I was given were clear; flash it, don't hand it over. If she looked closely, she'd know it was a fake. But it was too late to back out now.
I pulled the pass from my pocket and placed it in her palm. My hand didn't tremble. My face didn't twitch. I just stood there, watching her examine it, praying to whatever gods might be listening that the forgery was good enough.
She turned it over, her thumb running along the orange mark. She held it up to the light, squinting. She studied the edges, the corners, the stamp. One second passed. Then another. I saw her forehead slowly crease as she flipped the pass.
Does she know?
My heart was hammering so loud I was sure she could hear it.
Then one of the male wardens called out. "Amanda! You having trouble with the crowd?"
She looked up, irritated. "I'm fine. I can handle it myself." She turned back, mumbling something under her breath. My vampire hearing caught every word.
I'm not a fucking kid.
She looked up at me then handed the pass. Her expression was still annoyed, but there was no suspicion in her eyes.
"Move back!" she shouted. "Make way! Let him through!"
The crowd absolutely lost it. Their voices rose in a wave of protest, angry and loud. People were shouting about unfairness, about bribery, about favoritism. A man near the front was demanding to know why I got to skip the line. A woman was yelling that she'd been waiting for two hours and hadn't been allowed through. Others were just cursing, their frustration boiling over.
I didn't wait to hear more. I turned and walked quickly back to Scott and Zoë.
"Move," I said, swinging onto my horse. "Now. Before this turns into a riot."
Scott and Zoë didn't need to be told twice. They climbed onto their horses and we started forward, weaving through the line as it parted reluctantly around us. People glared. Some shouted. A few looked like they might try to block our path, but the wardens were still watching, and no one wanted to get arrested.
We were almost at the bridge when I heard footsteps behind me. One of the male wardens was approaching, his eyes fixed on us. He was older than Amanda, with a hard face and a voice that carried.
"Wait," he said.
I froze.
He walked up to us, his gaze moving from me to Scott to Zoë. His eyes narrowed.
"Are they with you?" he asked.
I cursed under my breath. "Yes," I said. "They're with me."
He looked at them for a long moment, his expression unreadable. "Why would the Chief need three people to deliver a message?"
I didn't hesitate. "She sent two of her relatives to accompany me. They're part of her delegation."
The warden's eyes flicked to Amanda. "Rookie," he called. "You know the Drybrook's Chief's family?"
Amanda looked up, her face reddening. "How the hell am I supposed to know?"
The warden sighed, rubbing his temples. He looked at us one more time, then waved a hand. "I'm not interested in your weird politics," he said. "Now get out of here before I change my mind."
I nodded, nudging my horse forward. Scott and Zoë followed. We crossed the bridge in silence, the sound of the crowd fading behind us.
When we reached the other side, I let out a breath I didn't know I'd been holding.
"That was close," Scott muttered.
"Too close," Zoë said.
I didn't respond. I just kept riding, my eyes on the road ahead.
The ride to Varesh was smooth after that.
We passed the checkpoint without incident. The wizard stationed there barely glanced at the pass I flashed him, too busy eating something from a paper wrapper to pay us much attention. After a couple of stops to water the horses and ourselves, the road widened and smoothed out, leading us toward a massive city that rose from the
desert like a mirage made real.
The gates of Varesh were tall and imposing, made of dark iron reinforced with copper wiring that hummed faintly with energy. Guards stood on either side, their eyes scanning the incoming traffic. We checked in without issue, giving our usual story about being travelers from Drybrook. The guards waved us through.
The city opened up around us. It was nothing like Drybrook.
Drybrook had been a trading post, practical and spread out, its buildings low and functional. Varesh was completely different. The buildings here rose higher, three and four stories tall, some even more. Their walls were made of that same pale, smooth material I'd seen before, but here it was polished to a shine, reflecting the sunlight in soft waves. Windows were larger, some covered with colored glass that cast
patterns on the streets below. Balconies jutted out over the roads, draped with
fabrics in vibrant colours. Lanterns hung from iron brackets, pulsing blue light softly even in the daytime.
The streets were wider too, paved with smooth stones that didn't glow but were clean and even. People moved in organized streams, some on foot, some on horseback, others in carriages pulled by horses. The air smelled of spices and smoke and something
salty. It was louder here. Busier. More alive.
But we didn't have time to appreciate it.
"We need to find the red spot," I said, keeping my voice low. "Look for any flag with
red on it. That's the rebellion's symbol."
Scott and Zoë nodded. We spread out slightly, our eyes scanning the buildings, the streets, the rooftops. With our eyesight, we could pick out details hundreds of feet away. A red flag should have been easy to spot.
But twenty minutes passed, and we found nothing.
We asked a few strangers casual questions, nothing specific. They told us we'd only covered the entrance and part of uptown. The city was massive, they said. It went on for miles.
Zoë pulled her horse to a stop. "This is impossible. Finding something that small in a city this big? Even with our eyesight, it would take hours."
Scott nodded. "We could just ask some of the locals. Some of them might have heard something about the rebellion."
"No." I shook my head. "Anything affiliated with the rebellion shouldn't be mentioned in
public. We don't know who's listening."
Zoë sighed. "Then what's the plan? We can't just keep riding around. The horses are getting tired, and the wizards in the city might get suspicious if they see us circling
the same streets over and over."
I looked around, my mind racing. She was right. We couldn't keep this up forever.
Scott leaned closer, lowering his voice. "Look, I get it. We don't want to draw attention. But we're running out of options. We just need to be discreet about it."
Zoë nodded. "We could try somewhere crowded and pretend we're looking for directions. It won't look suspicious if we're just asking for help."
I didn't like it. Every instinct told me to keep my head down, to stay quiet, to not draw any attention to ourselves. But Zoë was right. We couldn't keep circling the city like lost tourists. Eventually, someone would notice.
"Fine," I said. "But we do this carefully. We ask, we don't push, and if anyone looks at us sideways, we leave."
They both nodded.
We headed south, following the directions we'd gotten from a street vendor. The market district was even busier than the uptown area, a sprawling maze of stalls and shops and people. The noise was overwhelming. Vendors shouting, customers haggling,
children laughing, animals bleating. The smell of cooking meat and other delicacies hung heavy in the air.
We split up slightly, staying within sight of each other. I asked a woman at a fabric stall if she knew where the red spot was. She looked at me blankly and shook her head. Scott asked a group of young men near a blacksmith. They shrugged and turned away. Zoë tried an older couple browsing a pottery stall. They pretended not to hear
her.
Most people were either clueless or ignored us entirely. And the more we asked, the more I noticed the wizards stationed around the market. Two of them, standing near a fountain, their eyes scanning the crowd. Another one, leaning against a pillar, watching the shoppers pass. They weren't doing anything, but they were there. Watching.
"This is a bad idea," I muttered to Scott as we regrouped near a fruit stall.
"I'm guessing you didn't have any luck too," he said.
I shook my head, just as a young man approached us.
He was thin, with sandy hair and sharp eyes. He moved through the crowd easily, slipping between bodies like he'd done it a thousand times. When he reached us, he stopped and spoke in a low voice.
"Sorry to intrude," he said. "But I heard you asking about the red spot."
I tensed. He seemed way too friendly, and I didn't remember asking him for directions, but Scott stepped forward before I could say anything.
"Yeah," Scott said. "We're adventurers. Heard a lot of stories about it and we came to see it for ourselves."
The man's eyes flicked to me, then to Zoë, then back to Scott. He smiled. It was a small smile, but there was something knowing in it.
"Well you're not wrong. It's a popular attraction," he said. "I can take you there if you'd like."
I exchanged a glance with Zoë. She gave a tiny nod.
"Lead the way," I said.
He led us away from the market further into the city.
I kept my voice low as we walked. "If it's such a popular attraction, why does everyone we've asked seem clueless about it?"
The young man didn't miss a beat. "Varesh isn't particularly known for being nice to visitors. But there are open-minded people like me in this city."
He led us through the streets, weaving between stalls and carts, ducking under awnings and around corners. The market noise faded behind us, replaced by the quieter hum of residential streets. The buildings here were older and less colourful.
I walked beside him, keeping my eyes forward but my senses sharp. "So what exactly is the red spot? We've heard a lot of rumors." I glanced at Scott, urging him to improvise.
Scott nodded, picking up the cue. "Yeah. I heard it's a shop with the best wine in the Expanse."
The young man laughed. "Is that so?" He looked at Zoë. "And you? What have you heard?"
Zoë spoke confidently.
"I heard it's a place that makes the rarest ink dyes. Costs a fortune."
The young man nodded thoughtfully. "That's interesting."
We turned another corner. The street narrowed, the buildings pressing in on either side. It was darker here, the sunlight blocked by overhanging roofs and tall walls.
"What is it actually, then?" I asked.
The young man stopped. We were standing at the entrance of a dark alleyway. A dead end loomed in front of us.
He turned to face us. "See for yourselves."
I looked past him. There was nothing. Just walls and shadows and a single wooden door at the far end. Then I saw it. Right in the top left of the door, a small circle carved into the door, with red fabric showing through
from behind it.
"That's a door," Scott said.
The young man smiled. "It's what's behind the door that matters." He stopped and turned to face us. "But I'm afraid that's something I can't tell you."
The grin on his face widened.
I heard it before I saw it. A whiff through the air, sharp and fast, coming from behind us.
"Get down!" I shouted.
I spun, my hand shooting out to catch whatever was coming. My fingers closed around something small, but the moment I touched it, pain lanced through my palm. I looked down. A sliver of metal covered in tiny barbs that dug into my fingers. My blood welled up around it, and I could already feel something burning in my veins.
I threw it away, raising my head.
Five men stepped out from the shadows behind us, blocking the way we'd come. They were dressed in dark clothing, their faces hard, holding more of those darts.
I heard thuds beside me. I turned and saw Scott on the ground, his horse skittish and confused. Zoë was beside him, her body limp and her eyes closed. They were unconscious.
I tried to rush the young man, but my legs buckled beneath me. The exhaustion hit me like a wave, pulling me down. My vision blurred. My thoughts scattered. The last thing I saw was the young man standing over me, his face still grinning, his lips moving as he said something to the other men.
Then everything went black.
***************
When I opened my eyes, everything was dark. It took a while for me to realize I was awake, as I felt my limbs slowly begin to respond.
My eyesight improved as I blinked slowly, feeling the exhaustion beginning to clear. The room around me was small, barely wider than my outstretched arms. The walls felt rough and unpaved, cold stone that scraped against my fingertips as I ran my
hands along them. I couldn't see any door or window that might lead to an exit.
I tilted my head back, looking up. Above me, there was nothing. Just an endless dark void that seemed to stretch on forever. This room didn't have a ceiling.
I was weak. My limbs felt heavy, my head throbbed, my veins still burned from whatever entered my body. But I could feel my body already working to fix itself, the poison fading, the strength slowly returning to my muscles.
Scott and Zoë came rushing into my mind, and panic surged through my chest.
What happened to them?
Were they safe?
Were they even alive?
The thought made my stomach drop. I tried to move, desperate to get to them, but my body still felt heavy and unresponsive. I pushed myself upright, my back against the cold stone wall. I had to find them. I had to know that they were okay.
Looks like you've gotten yourself into quite the mess this time.
I was on my feet in an instant, my body dropping into a fighting stance. My fists were raised as I scanned the darkness for any sign of movement.
But there was no one.
I stayed there for a while, my heart pounding, my breath shallow. Then I slowly lowered my fists. I was imagining things. It
was the poison. The exhaustion was making me hear things.
You can relax. I'm not going to hurt you.
I froze.
There it was again. A voice. Clear and calm, like it someone was speaking right next to me. But the room was completely empty.
"Stop hiding and show yourself," I said, my voice rising angrily.
That's not possible.
"Why not?"
Because I don't have a body. Haven't had one for centuries, really.
I felt a chill run down my spine. "What?"
You heard me. I don't have a physical
body. Not anymore.
I shook my head, backing away from the wall. "If you don't have a body, then where are you speaking from? What the hell even is this? Some kind of spell? Did the wizards do this to me?"
No. This isn't a spell. And it wasn't the wizards.
"Then what?"
I'm speaking to you from your mind.
I went quiet. My heart was pounding so hard I could feel it in my throat. Then I laughed. A short, humorless sound. "Is
this a joke?" I shouted. "You think I'm stupid enough to fall for some wizard trick? Show yourself!"
It's not a trick. And like I said, it's not the wizards. I'm speaking to you from your
subconscious mind.
"What?" My voice cracked. "What are you talking about?"
You've heard me before. Twice now. During the finals. When you were trying to activate the orb. You thought you were imagining it, but you weren't. I've always been there.
I stared at the darkness. My mind was racing, trying to piece together something that made sense. The voice during the fight. The whisper when I was holding the orb. The
way it had felt like something else was in my head, watching, waiting.
"Who are you?" I asked. My voice was barely a whisper now.
Well, I've been called many names over centuries. The wizards called me their bane. Humans called me the empty god. Monarch of the fang. Primogen. Sea Walker. Realm
Forger.
A pause. The silence stretched on as my breathing slowed.
My mother named me Nicholas.
Another pause. Longer this time. I could hear the sound of my heart beating in my chest, slow and heavy. I already knew what was coming next.
But you… you would know me as Count Dracula. Firstborn of the vampire race.