They all share a look. Callos is the one to answer, “Blood.”
Taken from the hunters on the night of the Blood Moon, no doubt.
My thoughts are interrupted as, right before my eyes, Quinn’s flesh fills out. His tawny skin is a shade darker than Ruvan’s and Ventos’s pallor. His eyes regain clarity, the darkness dripping down his cheeks in rivulets. The wisps of hair fill out on his head, replaced with rusty-brown locks—short cut and slightly upturned in the front. His lips plump into a pout, complemented by his sad, intense eyes.
They drink human blood to conceal their monstrous forms. That must be why they need to hunt humans on the full moon and why they look like shambling corpses when they do. Perhaps drinking the blood consistently is what allows them to speak and think—why these vampires are sentient compared to the ones who usually attack us.
“And, my covenant, this is…is…” Ruvan pauses, blinking several times at me. “I don’t have your name.”
I smile triumphantly. I had been waiting for him to realize this. It might be a small, insignificant victory to have concealed this from him for so long. But it’s a victory nonetheless. I have something simple now to use as a test for the bloodsworn oath.
“My name is—” The fake name I had been planning to give sticks in my throat. I clear it with a cough. So what he said was true. We can’t lie to each other. Or at least I can’t lie to him. I’ll have to find a way to test that it’s the same for him, just for safety. “Riane,” I manage, proving half-truths can be said. Another good piece of information.
“How many vampir have you killed, Riane?” Ventos asks, stroking his beard, a deep shade of umber.
“One,” I answer honestly, then immediately wish I had inflated the number to sound more threatening.
“One?” he scoffs. “Lie.”
“Think what you will.” I shrug.
“She’s a young one.” Winny sits back down, pulling the fiddle to her chest. She plucks it gently, not playing anything in particular. The notes are sharp and high-pitched, grating in comparison to her earlier melody. “There’s no way she could’ve killed many.”
“She’s telling the truth,” Ruvan says with conviction enough that it reinforces his ability to sense truth from lie.
“I take it by the fact that you brought a human here at all that the anchor was not the master hunter, as you suspected.” Callos shifts the topic of conversation away from me and speaks directly to Ruvan. The others quiet themselves. There’s a knowing gleam in Callos’s eyes. Ruvan stiffens at my side.
A sudden, oppressive sensation settles on my shoulders. At first, I think it’s mourning for Davos, but I hardly ever felt love for the grizzly old hunter who guarded our town and was ready to marry me off like a broodmare. No, this is different… I can almost feel my stomach sinking as if I’m the one on the spot. I glance at Ruvan. His face is passive, but… My nerves are aflame. I can almost see under the surface of his expression. I think I can feel his panic.
“The master hunter was slain by my hand, but the curse still stands,” Ruvan begrudgingly admits.
“I told you so.” Callos sighs. “I’ve read every book on the early blood lore written by Jontun and I’m confident that the anchor of a curse must be a thing, not a person. Especially a curse as long-lasting as this. If it had been a person, they and the curse would’ve died long ago.”
“Then we will find the anchor in the room you’ve identified,” Ruvan says curtly.
“If she can make it there.” Lavenzia glances between myself and Ruvan.
“She’ll make it. She held her own against me,” Ruvan says solemnly.
“You would try and kill the human we needed.” Winny rolls her eyes.
“She wasn’t about to come peacefully—no human would. Moreover, as soon as I saw her, I knew it had to be her. She wasn’t like the other hunters.”
Ruvan’s words spin a small ball of warmth in my stomach. One I instantly try and douse. I will not be flattered by him.
“You mean that as more than her combat prowess,” Callos asks in that quiet, knowing way of his.
“They had used the blood lore on her, and for it, she could go toe-to-toe with me.” The room goes still. The silence fills the space easily, highlighting just how large and empty the room is. This hall could fit fifty. No, one hundred. Surely the vampire lord has a more fearsome retainer? Are they not back from across the Fade? Or…perhaps…did the hunters slay the rest?
Pride swells in me. Maybe Hunter’s Hamlet is all right. Maybe Drew was found in the mists and saved by other hunters who reclaimed the night for humanity.
“There’s no way.” Winny pauses her playing.
“I know what I saw. Her eyes were gold-ringed and bloodshot. Her veins bulged. You might not know what the transformation rites look like, but I do. I have seen the old drawings and rituals, and she looked halfway through them while still being completely human and yet…” His eyes swing back to me. I continue to remain silent. Anything I say right now might be used against myself or the hamlet. “She radiated the great power of our kind. I could sense her coming as easily as I could any of you.”
Sense me… Perhaps that’s how the vampire knew I was in my home despite the salt? If that’s true, then there’s some hope that Mother remained safe through the night. But if it’s true then it also means that I really did have some kind of power. How I looked in the mirror when I first arrived…was that truly me?
“Fascinating.” Callos stalks up to me, looking at me from head to toe. I hate the feeling of a vampire inspecting me as if I’m the one who’s the oddity. “How did they do it?”
