Page 4

Chapter 4

I watched Frogmatch disappear through the bars and move off, his little claws clacking on the cold flagstones. Dawn was still an hour or two away as I huddled on the pathetic excuse for a bed, hoping my plans with the imp would bear fruit.

I was still sitting there, shivering, when a vampyr phased into my cell. A scream slipped out of my throat before I could quash it. My bound hands fumbled with my skirts, wrenching them out of the way to grasp the hilt of my athame.

The vampyr hovered before me, waiting almost patiently for me to produce my weapon. His eyes were leached to black; he was being controlled by a necromancer.

I raised my athame. With my wrists bound, I had no option but to adopt a two-handed grip. My heart was thundering, but I struggled not to show my fear as I shot to my feet so I had room to manoeuvre. But even with the best will in the world, I knew I couldn’t beat a vampyr, not with their lightning reflexes and super speed. Not when I could barely hold a weapon. I wished for magic with all of my heart, but nothing came.

The vampyr smiled and its teeth were blood red. ‘Hello, my daughter. You’ve been looking for me.’ His voice was a low groan, discordant, like the words were being pushed unwillingly out of a bagpipe.

A chill ran down my spine. My father was controlling the vampyr! Goddess, my mum’s fears hadn’t been unfounded. My father wasn’t just a black witch; he was a necromancer.

‘You’re a necromancer,’ I stated the obvious aloud.

‘Yes,’ he said a moment later using the vampyr’s rattling, wheezing breath. ‘You could be great too, Amber. You’ve done well and I’m very proud of you, but you could be even greater than you are. You have so much potential that it glitters in you, my child, but you have only scratched the surface of your worth.’

‘I know what I’m worth,’ I disagreed. ‘Nothing will make me kill for power.’

A huffing broken sound bubbled from the vampyr’s lips and it took me a moment to realise that he was laughing. Revulsion swept through me.

‘You’d be surprised what you will do, Amber. Perhaps not for power but for love. I see the way you look at Bastion. What would you do to keep him safe?’

Anything. An icy shiver slid down my spine and fear pricked my scalp. My father – whoever he was – had been watching me closely enough to know that I had feelings for Bastion. It wasn’t love. It was just … loneliness, the need for companionship. Bastion was yin to my yang but that didn’t mean anything. It didn’t mean love.

‘Bastion doesn’t need me to keep him safe,’ I retorted.

‘That may be right, daughter, that may be right. But perhaps one day there will be the pitter-patter of tiny feet and then we’ll see what you wouldn’t do for your children.’

I didn’t tell him that I didn’t want children; he didn’t deserve to have that knowledge about me. ‘Don’t pretend that you became a necromancer for me. You left me.’

‘I was forced to!’ The words came out in a furious snarl and a drop of the vampyr’s bloody red spit landed on my cheek. I forced myself not to wipe it away and to hold the blade steady .

‘You could have sworn to have stayed a white witch instead of twisting further into darkness,’ I argued. Then I changed tack. ‘Was it you who attacked my mother?’

The vampyr’s head twitched sharply. ‘None of the attacks on your mother were designed to harm her.’

For some reason I believed him. ‘Then what were they designed to do?’ I asked impatiently.

The vampyr smiled. ‘I’ve no doubt you’ll find out soon enough. You’re fairly implacable once you get started.’ His head twitched violently to the other side and blue eyes flashed at me for a moment, full of horror and revulsion.

‘Tsch,’ my father uttered from his borrowed voice box. ‘This one is a fighter. Too bad. Never mind. I’ll get another.’ The vampyr’s eyes fixed on my athame. ‘I’m glad to see you’re keeping the athame safe, Amber. Keep it on you at all times. It is not a trinket.’

My jaw clenched. The athame was a family heirloom, but until now I hadn’t thought to ask which side of the family it had come from. Was it from my mother’s side? Or my father’s?

My father interrupted my thoughts. ‘Look lively, Amber, here he comes! A crucible of fire, and you’ll come out stronger than ever.’ Then the vampyr’s eyes were black again and he leapt towards me, moving with supernatural speed. His fangs snapped out.

Death was only moments away and I froze with fear, holding my athame out awkwardly in my manacled hands.

With a gurgling laugh, the black-eyed vampyr jumped on to the athame and pierced his own heart. He hung there for a moment, stuck on my blade as I stared in horror. Then the vampyr’s eyes faded to blue, he smiled a little and stilled.

‘I’m sorry,’ I managed to say as he disappeared in a puff of dust and ash.

I tried to tell myself that my father had killed him, not me, but the athame in my hands was coated in thick red blood. It dripped towards my hands, staining them like the stain that was growing on my soul.