Darkling

"Great gods, what is this? It's wonderful." I gazed at the goblet, thinking that if I could have a glass of this a couple times a week, I wouldn't be nearly so scritchy.



"The blood of our oracle. We bleed him twice a week and save it for special occasions and rituals. And for special guests." He gave me an indulgent smile and took a swallow of his wine.



I wasn't sure what to say. Apparently it wasn't doing the dude any harm, and if he'd been sitting there for a couple hundred years, then who was I to mention that it seemed like a raw deal? Considering the fact that I bled a lot of people myself, I decided to keep my mouth shut.



"I'm Jareth," my guide said, holding out his hand.



I stared at him. Why the hell hadn't he said so in the first place? Or had the oracle been some sort of a test? Once again, I bit back a retort and took his hand. "How do you do. Queen Asteria sent me to find you."



"The Elfin Queen sent you? Strange days, these are, when elves and Svartans combine forces, and when Asteria sends a vampire to me for help. Tell me what you think you require." He didn't even blink.



I ran my finger over the cut crystal goblet and stared into the magical blood before taking another sip. Finally I set the glass down and delicately wiped my mouth.



"I didn't choose to become a vampire. I was turned by the Elwing Blood Clan. Currently I'm living Earthside on assignment, and it's come to my attention that the Elwing Clan has crossed over the divide. Dredge, their leader and my sire, is after me. He may be in cahoots with a floraed who's joined forces with Demonkin from the Subterranean Realms. I need to know how to find Dredge, and how to kill him."



Jareth leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "And you think I know how?"



"Queen Asteria seems to think so," I said, contemplating his expression. He was hard to read, this monk.



"You don't believe you have the power to defeat him right now?"



I looked into his eyes and saw something there I hadn't seen in a long, long time. Understanding. Pure, crystal clear, understanding. It made me want to weep as I slowly shook my head. "No, I know I don't."



"You can find your sire. All vampires can find their sires, if their sire still walks the world." As he continued to stare at me, I had the weirdest feeling that he was looking into my soul, looking past the anger and memories, deep into the me that once had been.



"You know a lot about vampires, do you?" I tried to gauge his expression. Something about him fascinated me. He obviously possessed great power, but he kept it behind a mask.



"Enough for what you require," he said. "I've helped a number of vampires gain control over their impulses. And I've lost a few, too."



A chill ran down my back, colder than my skin, colder than death. "Lost a few?"



"There have been a handful who sought me out. I couldn't help them. Either they didn't want to face their inner demons, or they embraced them too readily. They sought no balance and turned into monsters." As he caught my gaze and held it, I knew. I knew why Queen Asteria had instructed me to seek him out.



"You tried to help Dredge, didn't you?"



Jareth lowered his gaze to the table. "Sometimes, no matter how hard you try, you lose the game. Dredge was my first—and greatest—failure."



I considered the possibilities. If Jareth had known Dredge way back at the beginning, he must be incredibly old. And he knew what made Dredge tick. Which meant invaluable information on how to take down my nightmare.



"Will you work with me?" I drained my goblet and set it down. "Dredge captured one of our friends. I don't hold out much hope but maybe… maybe we can get her back. He's out to hurt me. I don't think he'll kill her right away."



Jareth leaned across the table. "If you ask for my help, I'll force you to walk down some dark paths, Menolly. You must come to terms with your memories before I can lead you to Dredge. He's your sire. If you face him now without my help, I guarantee he'll end up controlling you. Dredge isn't like most vampires. Do you know what he was before he was turned? Did he tell you his story?"



I shook my head. "He didn't tell me anything, except exactly what he was going to do with me. He kept every promise he made that night." I pressed my eyes shut, trying to shove aside the images that flashed through my mind.



"As long as you fear your memories, you'll be at his mercy. I have to take you back into that pain, to that night, in order to free you of the chains that bind you to Dredge." He stood up. "Are you strong enough to withstand the journey? Can you give yourself to me and let me break you down so we can put the pieces back together?"



"I thought that's what the OIA did when I managed to get home," I said, wanting to find some way out. "They spent a year working to bring me back to sanity. Can't you just tell me what I need to know about Dredge?"



Jareth motioned for me to walk with him. We made our way through a winding corridor back into the great hall. "The OIA merely slapped a bandage on your wounds. They taught you how to cope with the memories but not to overcome them. I'm a shaman. I can teach you how to rise above all of this, to take control over what happened. Only then can you face Dredge and hope to win."



He paused. "What do you think will happen if you and your sisters go up against him, and you suddenly turn to his side? As much as you hate him, he can make you his puppet."



I stopped cold. "You're telling me that he can control me, even if I don't want him to?"



"For all of your ability to mesmerize others, you don't think his is far greater? Dredge is eight hundred years old, Menolly. He's a greater vampire, and before that, while he lived, he was a high priest of Jakaris even though he's not Svartan. He should have been cast into the Subterranean Realms centuries ago, but he always managed to outwit those seeking him."



A high priest of Jakaris. A priest of the Svartan god of vice and torture. No wonder he enjoyed inflicting pain so much. It had been his path in life, and he'd kept up the practice in death. I pressed my hand against my stomach, queasy. "Kind of makes Dracula look like a boy toy, I guess."



"You could put it that way," Jareth said. "But Vlad has some ethics, regardless of how ruthless he seems on the outside. Dredge is devoid of conscience. If he's truly after you, he'll systematically destroy every single person you care about in the most horrible way possible before coming for you. He doesn't want to kill, he wants to rain fear and pain down on his enemies."



Shit. I didn't have a choice. "Do you know an incubus named Rozurial? He's after Dredge, too."



Jareth nodded. "He wanted to study with me, but I don't work with incubi and he was denied access to the city. He went Earthside, then, to find Dredge?"



I nodded. "He's been helping me."



"Very good, then. You can trust him, as far as this matter goes. Like many others, he has a longstanding grudge against the Elwing Blood Clan. Now there's no time to waste. Will you put yourself in my hands? Queen Asteria sent you. I can help you, but you have to surrender yourself to me."



The thought of handing over control was terrifying. My trust no one instincts were screaming like I'd set them on fire. "Can I have an hour or so to think it over? I want to talk to my sister first."



"Of course. I'll be here. But mind you, if you refuse, then don't bother returning to the temple. Ever. This is the only time I will make this offer." He guided me through the larger-than-life statues toward the door.



"May I ask… who is she? You mentioned Mother Dayinye earlier. Are those statues of her?" I nodded to the stone figures.



"She is our goddess. Great Mother Dayinye is the guardian of souls, the keeper of conscience. We pursue truth through her. She divines the path of our destiny. If we stray, she reminds us gently the first time. The second, a sharper reprimand. The third and she destroys us with the violet fire of reckoning."



He turned away as I opened the door, but over his shoulder he called out, "I won't hurt you, Menolly. No more than I have to in order to make you an opponent capable of meeting—and destroying—your enemy."



I found Camille and Morio in the park, holding hands under the Moon Mother as she slowly progressed into the darkness of her cycle. They were working magic of some sort, probably shielding themselves. I silently glided up behind them.



Without a beat, Camille said, "I know you're there. Come out of the shadows, Menolly."



She was getting better, I thought. Delilah and I could sense when people snuck up on us. Camille wasn't quite as good, but she'd been practicing. I sat down beside her.



"We need to talk. Can we find an inn?" I knew better than to touch her right after she'd been working a spell—sometimes the exchange of energies sparked off more than we bargained for.



She shivered. "Sounds good. I'd like to get off the ground and onto something soft. Any luck finding Jareth? Who is he? What is he like?"



I glanced over at Morio. "I don't want to talk out here in the open, even in this city. Protected or not, I'd feel safer indoors."



He held out his hand to Camille and helped her up. When he proffered me his hand, I snorted. "You know I don't need the help… but thanks anyway. I appreciate the offer."



We headed out of the park the way we'd come. Inns and rooming houses were in the main part of the city. We'd only walked for about ten minutes before we came to the Mussels and Ale Pub.



"Looks promising enough," Camille said, opening the door. And she was right. Except for the difference in decor and lighting, it could have been any good hotel back Earthside. The walls were bathed in a rich teal and rose color scheme. The registration desk was manned by an elf. I blinked. We hadn't seen many races here besides whatever race the seers hearkened from.



"May I help you?" the clerk asked us. Polite, but as with every other person in this place, reserved.



"We need a room," Camille said, pulling out a purse from between her boobs. I grinned. Leave it to my sister to find a handy hiding place for her money.



"How many beds?" the clerk asked.



"Two. We're just here for a bit of a rest and a meal. We'll need food, for two, sent up to our room. Something with protein in it." Camille placed three coins in his hand.



Elqaneve coins, I thought. Accepted almost everywhere in OW. We'd made sure to keep a nice little stash of money from various city-states tucked away in a wall safe at home, just in case we had to return here quickly. And Trillian never seemed to want for money, at least that he could spend here. He was perpetually broke over Earthside.



After showing our passes to the clerk, we headed upstairs. The stairwell was carpeted with hand-woven rugs. Our room was the first door to the right on the third floor. Camille opened the door and ushered us in.



Twelve by twelve, the room contained two beds, a small table and two chairs, and a bathtub. Baths were problematic in hotels, at least in most cities. Maids had to fill them by hand unless there was some magical—or rough mechanical—system in place. They cost a good deal extra to compensate for the work and the wood used to heat the water. Camille dropped on one of the beds and pulled the blanket around her shoulders. The room wasn't cold, but it was chillier than the gardens had been.



Morio straddled one chair and set his bag down on the floor. "So tell us, how did it go?"



I frowned. "I'm not sure, to be honest. I met Jareth. He's a powerful seer, all right. Or shaman. I'm not sure which."



"A shaman, huh? What can he do to help?" Camille pulled off her boots and Morio slid over to the bed, taking her feet in his hands and rubbing them gently. "Thank you, babe," she said, leaning over to kiss him lightly on the lips.



"He can help me find and destroy Dredge," I said. "But there's a catch." I told them everything.



"Are you sure—" Morio started to say, but Camille hushed him.



"He wants to train you to withstand the pain. I've talked to Venus the Moon Child about this sort of thing. You learn how to relive the pain, cleanse it, and then you can finally let it go. A good enough shaman can use the pain inflicted on himself to cause a backlash strike against his enemy."



She caught my gaze and held it. "What are you going to do?"



I shrugged. "I don't think I have much of a choice. Dredge will work his way through everything and everyone I care about till he comes to me." I looked at Camille. "You know he's going to torture Erin, if he hasn't already. He'll keep her alive for a while, because he'll want me to see his handiwork. But he'll tear her apart. She'll never be able to heal from what he does to her. I may not be able to stop him from destroying her, but I can stop him from destroying anybody else."



"He's gathering an army," Morio said, interrupting.



"What?" Both Camille and I stared at him.



"He's building himself a nice little army. I think he means to create himself a troop of vampires so he can go on a killing fest through the city." Morio shifted position and took Camille's other foot in his hand.



"Think about it," he continued. "The dude is crazy, that much we know. But he's also power hungry. You're who he's after, yes, but think what being Earthside means for him. He has an untouched canvas on which to paint. A lot of people still don't know much about vampires. By the time the word hits the streets, he'll already have a toehold in ruling the underworld of Seattle."



The image he painted spread out for me in so many horrific ways. The Elwing Blood Clan, only far larger. With potentially hundreds of newly born vamps under Dredge's control. They'd hunt, and they'd take down anyone who got in their way. Wade and Sassy and I couldn't hope to make a dent against that—no way in hell. And soon, all Supes would be targeted for destruction because of Dredge's minions.