7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

" T hat's it, my love. Come."

Zen opened his eyes to a familiar ceiling. For once, he was fully clothed upon the plush bed as if he had merely laid down for a nap.

He was alone, and the solitude prompted him to rise. He was used to this bed, but he wasn't sure he remembered the room. He must still be groggy from dozing.

The chambers were perfectly circular, with grand wardrobes and bookcases along the walls, and possibly the largest bathtub Zen had ever seen in an area for a washroom. As beautiful as the décor was, with tapestries woven of bright colors, he found himself drawn to the archlike window.

It had glass panels that opened outward, and they were open now, revealing the hazy light of dawn. The tower was incredibly high up, like the highest point in a castle, looking down upon rolling hills, flower fields, a river—and a breathtaking waterfall.

The sun still made Zen squint as he took it all in, but it was like living inside a painting, made up of more colors than the naked eye could normally see.

But it wasn't dawn, Zen realized. It was dusk. The colors along the horizon were a similar swath of rose-colored twilight, but the sun was setting. It dropped abruptly and cast the land in shadow, and an unexpected chill washed over Zen as nightfall descended.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" a smooth voice, melodic and light, preceded the slide of long arms around Zen's waist. A body almost identical in height to his own molded against his back and held him close, with the whisper of cool breath on his neck.

The nighttime view was beautiful. The stars were endless and the moon full above them. Below, the darker shades of blue and deep purple in the landscape that Zen could see where human eyes might have only seen black made the waterfall sparkle in contrast like precious diamonds.

It still seemed so cold…

The angel tightened his hold on Zen and pressed soft lips where his breath had kissed. "None of it compares to you, my love. You are so close now. Keep coming. Closer…"

The cool hands that were splayed over Zen's stomach slid into the parting of his tunic and brought forth a shiver as they trailed upward, and then down, and then lower to the edge of Zen's trousers.

Zen was so cold now. He wanted to be touched. He wanted to be warmed.

"My sweet Zenos… come to me."

"Zen!"

The shout jarred Zen from his slumber, and he gasped at how freezing the night had become. Where was the fire? All he could see was mist.

And he was standing, with all his gear, alone—

" Zen ," Khel's voice was clearer now as a firm hand gripped Zen's shoulder and turned him around. The others were running up out of the dark, and in the distance—very far in the distance—Zen could see the last fading embers from their fire.

"You might have warned us that you were the type to wander in your sleep," Dante grumbled. "Had you at my back for barely a breath on last watch, and suddenly you were gone."

"I…" Zen fumbled to think of a reply. What had he been dreaming about? He couldn't remember. "I'm sorry. I don't think I've ever done that before. I didn't mean—"

"Hang on." Morty came forward, eyes wide as he looked beyond Zen, and then walked past him.

They were all laden with full gear and packs. Adventurers must be used to striking camp in a hurry.

Khel patted Zen's shoulder, and while Dante looked mildly annoyed, he nudged Zen teasingly as well. Morty remained enamored with the mist—a wall of mist that didn't appear to be anywhere but in front of them.

" Detect ," Morty said with the raise of his palm, and through the mist glowed the outline of huge double doors larger than a full-blooded giant would have needed. When the light faded, so too did the mist from the doors as if beckoning them to knock.

"You're forgiven." Dante nudged Zen again.

"You are truly blessed by the Lord of Law," Khel added in awe.

Morty reached forward to touch the doors, but before he made contact, they parted. On the other side was more mist, revealing nothing, but this was obviously the barrier they sought.

"I was ready to be awake anyway." Morty looked back at the others with a smile. "Shall we?"

Zen willed himself not to shake, staying in back with Morty, while Khel and Dante moved forward to lead.

The doors shut so suddenly behind them, they jumped—especially since there were no doors anymore to have shut, only mist.

"Huh," Morty said, while Zen's heart was in his throat again. Morty took the map book from his belt and opened it to the usual pages, but though the map itself was the same, all the monster activity had vanished.

And it didn't feel like a blessing.

"That's disconcerting," Khel voiced what Zen was thinking. If they couldn't see where the highest concentration of threats might be, they couldn't avoid them.

"Well, are we here to slay a vampire and his horde or not?" Morty hooked his book back onto his belt and gestured ahead into the hazy unknown. "Onward?"

The others didn't hesitate, moving forward with weapons ready, and all Zen could do was follow.

So recently, the last thing he remembered was dreaming. The memories were vague, but a few had come back to him—the touch of his angel and a view at night of breathtaking scenery. Zen wished he was dreaming now, lost in the mist with three men who were little more than strangers. Zen liked his companions. Khel, Morty, and Dante were better men than any he'd met, even if they were strange—and Dante served the Lady of Chaos. What mattered was that Zen trusted them and believed they would keep him safe, at least to the best of their abilities.

But what might they have to save him from?

"Hold up," Khel called, his voice a faint whisper at Zen and Morty in the back, as he and Dante continued forward like walls of brute force.

Then Zen saw why Khel had told them to stop.

Bodies were coming into view on all sides littered along their path. Some were fresh and rank with decay, others gnawed to husks, and many more were down to mere bones. This was indeed where the monsters gathered when on their way outside the barrier.

So where were they?

Khel and Dante urged them onward, but the cloying fear of what living things they might encounter in the mist made Zen wonder if he was dreaming still, because he was walking into a nightmare. Bile tinged the back of his throat like was so common lately as they stepped around bodies and bones.

"What we fought the other night was ghouls," Zen recounted to Morty, hushed but desperate to know more as they moved forward. "I could tell they weren't like the vampires I'd heard of, but… I don't understand the difference."

"We'll face more than vampires," Morty said, looking around curiously, for once not lost in a book.

Zen thought of the creatures he'd seen while on watch—or thought he'd seen—surrounding him with eyes and teeth like formless evil in the dark.

"Ghouls were drained of blood and fed vampire blood in return," Morty continued, "but they're mindless because they didn't get enough to fully effect the change. It's an awful curse, because they're basically no better than undead. They can never become human again, but they can never regain their wholeness or become a greater vampire. They're fodder, foot soldiers for their creators, and stuck forever as what was made of them.

"Vampire spawn are also different. Made the same way but having received enough vampire blood to keep their sanity. They aren't fully autonomous, however, because whatever their maker asks of them, they'll do, even if it's to sacrifice themselves or kill their dearest loved ones. They're lucky though, because if their maker is slain, they can become human again."

Zen longed for water to clear the dryness in his throat. The amount of bodies in their path wasn't lessening. Behind them, outside the barrier, it had to be morning by now, but there was nothing but darkness and mist here.

Why weren't the monsters attacking?

"Full vampires are different still," Morty went on, spewing forth such awful facts, while never showing any signs of the horror Zen felt. "They can change shape. At least one other form. Though specific abilities are tied to the vampire's original race. They can be created by magic or a curse, like is said of Lord Gaian. They're subservient to no one, but like ghouls, full vampires can never become human again.

"And then there are the brides."

"Brides? What—"

Morty hushed him—because Khel and Dante had stopped.

They had reached the edge of the mist.

Zen hesitated to move up beside the others, as Morty did, because they were all just staring. With a quick breath, Zen forced himself to be brave and moved to stand by Khel, and what he saw beyond the mist and bodies they'd surpassed was the most unbelievable sight yet.

A village, normal and quaint, stood not far in the distance. There was no sunlight, but it was clearly daybreak, because there were villagers moving about, and children running and playing.

And they were children of all kinds, even dark elves, which Zen had never seen in person, as well as other darklings like him, able to walk in the daytime without worry, because it was always night here.

"At least we can ask for directions," Morty said, gesturing ahead with a smile.

Khel and Dante sheathed their weapons, and Zen had to admit, while he'd been unprepared for this turn, he saw no threat either, only people.

His people.

As they approached, the laughing children halted and hurried to find their parents. The adults turned to gauge these newcomers, and someone ran off to fetch someone specific, a man who Zen assumed ran the town once he came forward, since he carried authority in his strides.

He was a dark elf, tall and broad like the largest of humans. His skin was as black as the night sky, his irises just as dark, and his ears stretched out from his head as long and pointed as a high elf's.

"Welcome to Nightfall," he said. "I am Degnan, mayor of our village."

"I thought it was Crestfall," Zen said.

"It was once. But… well." Degnan raised a hand toward the nighttime sky, where there were no signs of light on the horizon.

"It's not often we get new people out of the mist," a woman said, one of the few humans Zen could see, coming forward with two darkling children clinging to her that made Zen realize she was their mother and Degnan likely her husband. "You weren't attacked by the lord's minions?"

"No," Khel offered. "We had a clear path through the barrier. That's rare?"

"Very," Degnan said. "The lord must want you here."

"Lord Gaian?" Morty asked.

Degnan and his wife bowed their heads at the mention. More from the village were spilling out of their homes. It was a modest town, small enough that word spread quickly of strangers, but still large enough that Zen couldn't see every building in a single view.

"You serve him?" Dante asked.

"Do we have a choice?" Degnan's wife replied.

"This is Lyla, my beloved," Degnan introduced her. "And she is right. If Gaian wishes anyone dead or… taken, there is little we can do, but the circle protects us." He lifted a hand to indicate posts spaced evenly around the village, the top of each glowing a faint blue that Zen would have missed if it hadn't been pointed out to him. "We know you're not monsters in disguise, or you wouldn't have been able to get past them. Now that the barrier is fading, Gaian's horde travels past here on its way out the gates."

"You know the barrier is fading?" Morty questioned.

"Of course. We've seen all type of creature escaping through the mist."

"Why don't some of you try to leave then?" Khel asked.

Degnan and Lyla shared pensive looks, and others who had begun to gather looked down as if in mourning.

"A few did," Degnan said. "I'm sure you saw what became of them."

Zen felt that familiar bile stir in the back of his throat. The bodies, whether fresh, rotted, or merely bones, had been people of this village once.

"If you mean us no harm, and the lord has no quarrel with you," Degnan said, "then you are welcome here. You may trade and go about our village as you please. And well timed. We have a festival tonight, a yearly celebration of a good harvest, which is why our children are in such high spirits. They know that tonight they can eat their fill of whatever sweets they find." He seemed a serious man, but when he smiled at his children, they giggled back at him.

"Besides," Lyla said, "you're a good omen. One of you is a darkling. You truly must carry the mark of our lord." She bowed her head at Zen, and given she was speaking of a vampire lord's blessing, Zen wasn't sure how to take that.

"Thank you." Morty bowed in kind, first to Lyla, and then to Degnan. "We won't cause trouble, but what we seek is a way to your lord's castle."

The children ran off, while Lyla remained close, clearly a partner in running the town as much as she was in marriage. Zen might have paid more attention to the ensuing conversation, but Dante excused himself to find local fare, and Khel went off to get to know the people, which left Zen feeling unsure where he belonged.

The path to the lord was easy, it seemed, merely onward, following the river and the villages around it until they reached the waterfall. Zen wondered if every village here was filled with similar people, races of all kinds living together without reprimand. Zen had been taught that dark elves were akin to monsters, but nothing about Degnan seemed evil.

Talk of maps and route options fell away as Zen looked around at other villagers, who would smile and nod and move on, like nothing was out of the ordinary about seeing another darkling. Degnan and Lyla's children ran about, playing with humans, dark elves, high elves, and other races alike, and drawing Zen to follow them behind a row of houses.

If these people served the Lady of Chaos in ways bloodier than Dante, they hid it well.

Zen pitched forward, something scratchy and heavy slamming into him from behind, as the gaggle of children ran past.

"Slow down!" someone called. "You wouldn't want this haybale to fall on you , would you? Oh no! Sir? Did I strike you? I swear I didn't mean to!"

Zen turned at the gentle voice to find a young man not much older than he was, maybe as old as Khel and Morty, but human with a smile—a face—an everything —that almost made Zen trip again on absolutely nothing.

He was stunning.

Though his clothes were modest and dusty from hauling the haybale, they looked well made, with deep brown trousers, leather boots and belt, and a burgundy shirt loosely tied together at the top with hide. The rich color matched his ruddy-brown eyes.

With his sleeves rolled up, the lean line of his muscles was evident, and from lack of sun, his skin was a soft cream with rosiness in his cheeks from exertion. His black hair was neatly trimmed but tousled in a way that let a stray lock fall into his eyes, and he paused to flick it with a finger.

Beautiful.

And so familiar…

"Did I knock the words from your lips, stranger?" he asked with a sweet smile. "Unless you can't speak? I'm sorry if—"

"I can speak," Zen forced his mouth to work. The children had long since run off, meaning it was just him and this angelic-faced human behind the houses. "I'm Zen. We just arrived."

"Enki." He held out a hand, and Zen realized he was being offered it—a human was offering for them to touch.

Zen lifted his own hand but wasn't sure what to do.

Enki laughed and grasped his forearm in a firm squeeze. "Pleasure to meet you, Zen. Sorry about the haybale. The children surprised me. They're just excited for the festival. I need to move this into the barn. Would you like to help me? If you're not too burdened."

Zen was still loaded for travel, complete with bag, belt, and a crossbow on his back, but he wasn't about to let that stop him if it kept him in this man's company a while longer.

"I can manage," Zen said, moving around one side of the haybale. It was tightly bound, but easy enough to lift by the twine. As they each took an end, however, it proved heavy enough that Zen couldn't imagine how Enki had lifted it on his own before now.

"So… we?" Enki asked during their slow shuffle toward the barn at the end of the row of houses.

"We?"

"You said we. We just arrived."

"Oh! My party. My fellow adventurers. My friends. We haven't known each other for very long, but they're good men. There's four of us. A wizard, a paladin, and a warrior. Though they're more than what they seem. You're a farmer?"

"And a wizard," Enki said. "On occasion."

It took them crossing the threshold into the barn for Zen to register that statement. "Doesn't that mean you could have levitated the haybale?"

"Where's the sport in that?"

Zen laughed, regardless of the strain in his arms when they finally dropped the bale between them. Enki hadn't needed any help, and not only because he could have used magic. With a mighty heave, he lifted the bale over his head to place it with a stack of others in the loft, making the exposed muscles of his forearms ripple.

Zen wondered what the muscles of his biceps, shoulders, and back would look like if he wasn't wearing a shirt…

"What about you?"

"Hm?"

"What about your role?" Enki dusted his hands off on the sides of his trousers. "You said four members in your party but only listed three."

"I'm a priest."

"Of the Lord of Law?" Enki looked stricken, which caused Zen to sound unsure when he answered.

"Yes?"

"Don't say that loudly," Enki said in a sudden hush, pulling Zen closer by the arm. "Most villagers wouldn't care, but some believe the lord of these lands is angered by worship of the Sun God."

"That makes sense," Zen said, distracted by Enki's lingering grip, stabilizing and warm. He had almost forgotten how cold he'd been when he woke up. "But… can't everyone tell what I am from my robes?"

"How?" Enki stared at them.

Zen looked down. Besides the colors, the only distinguishing marks that pointed to the Sun God were on his stole—which was gone —and his amulet, which was hidden in the robe's folds. He must have left the stole back at camp.

How had he managed to gather everything else in his sleep but not that?

"Never mind, I guess," Zen said, making sure the amulet was securely hidden. "And no matter. I'm not exactly devout."

"No?"

"I believe in the gods, but I have no allegiance."

Enki tilted his head with a curious stare. "Yet your god still provides you power?"

"I don't know why."

At last, Enki's hand slid away, but slowly, until the last alight of his fingers drifted from Zen's elbow. "Maybe because your intentions are pure. You are a healer after all."

"I try to be. Although…"

"Although?"

"I've been known to have the hands of a thief."

"A morally gray priest." Enki grinned like that only intrigued him more. "Do I need to watch my pockets?"

"Only if you have something worthwhile in them."

Enki's eyebrows shot up.

"I didn't mean—"

And then he laughed, almost doubling over as he stumbled back a step—only to trip on a leaning pitchfork into a pile of loose hay. Zen tried to reach for him, but all he accomplished was grabbing after Enki's arms and being pulled down on top of him.

The impact against Enki's firm— very firm—chest knocked the wind from Zen, especially while carrying so much weight from his gear, and he gasped, though he was far more worried that Enki might have landed on something other than hay.

"Are you—" he sucked in a wheezing breath "—all right?"

" Shit ." Enki coughed, though it soon dissolved into further laughter. "I swear… I'm not usually so clumsy. Well, I am … but there isn't often someone around to witness it so spectacularly."

Now Zen's coughs turned to laughter, and once they had caught their breaths, they were both laughing heartily.

Zen pushed up, and the shift slotted their legs between one another's, colliding their hips as tightly as their chests. He lost his breath again, looking down at Enki, who was staring up at him with that sweet smile, uncaring to how they were tangled.

"A-any wounds?" Zen stuttered. He never stuttered. At least he could blame it on the fall.

"Maybe a lump on my head," Enki said, reaching back with an earnest cringe.

"Here…" Zen supported himself with one hand and moved to cradle the back of Enki's head with the other. He didn't feel a lump or any sign of bleeding, but still he whispered, " Heal ," and instantly Enki was hallowed with light.

Like an angel.

While Zen had never seen the man from his dreams clearly, he knew without a doubt that this was what he must look like.

"Better?" Zen asked when the light dimmed.

"Much."

Zen should pull his hand free, get up, move , but it was as if his body wasn't listening. It felt so warm, so good to be in so much contact with someone else. Zen couldn't explain the sensation of finally being able to touch others, to have it be second nature without flinches or frowns. But this, to have his presence met with a smile, his touch savored, felt like he'd been starved all his life, and now he was overwhelmed by plentiful bounty.

"Are you all right?" Enki asked.

"Sorry." Zen removed his hand and started to adjust himself to get up. "I was only—"

"Because I think," Enki stopped him with a light grip on his robes, "your god must see something special in you."

"I don't know about that."

"Then maybe… your power comes from somewhere else."

Zen couldn't imagine from where, but the comment seemed sincere, and being kept in place atop Enki felt so intimate. Zen should get up, but he couldn't seem to move, as if hypnotized by Enki's stare and how the space between them kept shrinking.

A squeal of delight preceded a rush of children storming into the barn, half a dozen now, most about Jax's age, the thought of whom sobered Zen, and with an apologetic smile, he rose to let Enki up.

The children were chasing each other, laughing and running about in unfettered joy. Zen wished Jax could have known a day like this, in the company of many, none of whom would condemn him for his race or beliefs.

" Hey !" Enki leapt at them with a playful shout, causing them to scatter with fresh giggles. "No running by the hay unless you want one to crush you! Raaaawwwrrr!" He charged at them, roaring like a beast, and scooped up one child easily, who he hoisted over his shoulder.

It was Degnan and Lyla's boy, and once Enki had spun him around, he let him go, only to chase after another, until all the children went scurrying out of the barn.

Enki paused to catch his breath, leaning against the barn door with a radiant smile. It seemed he was reaching to press a hand to his chest, but his fingers curled around the cord of a necklace, its pendant hidden beneath his shirt.

A wizard's amulet perhaps.

"I've never seen darkling children." Zen went up next to him. "Other than when I was one. It's nice to see them happy."

"Degnan and Lyla's twins, JoJo and Sara. There are no darklings where you're from?"

"Or dark elves. And neither would be welcome."

Enki looked surprised. Then sad. Then inviting and warm again, all in a flicker of emotions. "You are welcome here, Zen. Now, come on. If we don't chase them for a little while, they'll never leave us alone."

Enki reached back to grasp Zen's hand, pulling him out of the barn. He held on for several paces before letting go, and Zen felt his heart stutter like his words from before, foolishly longing to be in contact with Enki longer.

Zen would have been seen as the monster Enki pretended to be if he'd ever chased after children back home.

Seeing that they had two pursuers, the children went off in different directions. Behind the houses was the perfect field for frolicking, without tall grass, and still within the protective circle. Zen watched Enki capture another child, twirl them about, and then release them again, like it was the most marvelous game.

Zen had fallen too far behind, weighted down by his pack and weapons, and stopped to drop it all in a heap, including his belt. He wasn't sure if seizing children the same way Enki was would be welcome since they didn't know him, but the darkling girl, Sara, saw Zen coming and purposely darted toward him as if goading him to go after her.

So, Zen did, and she released the most beautiful laughter when he hefted her over his shoulder and spun before letting her ‘flee' from the attack.

The children could have kept on for ages, no doubt, but Enki held up a hand, Zen thought to plead for mercy, but then sparks flew up from his fingertips into the dark sky. There were no stars or moon, as if the mist coated everything above them, and yet there was a dim light to everything, beyond the array of lanterns around the village.

Still, the sky was dark enough that Enki's sparks exploded brilliantly, forming the outline of an eagle in gorgeous gold that hovered in the sky, and then fell like glowing raindrops.

The children stopped to stare.

Enki shot up more sparks, and more, all exploding into animals before they fell.

A green bear.

A blue cougar.

A red wolf.

The children danced beneath them, holding out their hands in hopes of catching the light, but when the sparks landed, they fizzled with jolts that made the children giggle.

Enki muttered a lengthier spell that began a chain reaction of new shapes and colors. He joined Zen with panted breath. "I promise my wizardry is more than parlor tricks, but they like it."

Without further ceremony, Enki dropped to the ground and laid back in the grass, like many of the children were starting to do.

But Enki was the real wonder.

Zen dropped beside him. The sparks and the images they made were breathtaking. Stars to make up for lack of real ones in the form of a magical sword, shining knights, even a cluster of hearts.

"What else can you do?" Zen asked, keeping his eyes upward for fear that he would stare if he looked at Enki. He had to look at him, however, when there was no answer.

Enki was passing a hand over the grass between them. Slowly, a deep pink lily with white edges grew up out of the ground and bloomed as beautifully as if it had been tended to for months. Enki plucked it and handed it to Zen.

"Does this count as a parlor trick?" Enki said with a gentle laugh.

Zen marveled at it, struck by its sweet scent and flawless petals. "I wondered how anything could grow here without the sun."

"The land itself is unique. You won't find a barren wasteland even where there are no wizards to help, but a little magic is useful to speed things along. It's like tricking them into thinking they have sunlight anyway."

"You can summon sunlight?" Zen sat up. "I've been meaning to learn—"

"No, I'm sorry. What I do is different. From what I've heard, only priests can summon true sunlight. I'm sure you'll manage eventually. Like I said, there's something special in you." Enki gazed at Zen like he found him more miraculous than the magic he'd performed, though Zen couldn't imagine why.

He was just… him.

"Beginning the celebration early, are you?"

Zen startled at the voice that broke through the children's laughter.

It was Khel, coming from around the houses with a group of hunters carrying bows. Zen and Enki stood. The lightshow must have caught people's attention, because Morty appeared too, still accompanied by Degnan and Lyla, along with a few others that Zen assumed were more parents. Finally, Dante came as well, carrying a bag that appeared to have pastries in it, for he was already eating one.

This was a pitstop, not their destination. They were on an adventure, a quest, and they had come here to slay a monster. What was Zen thinking, feeling so wholly like he belonged when, if they succeeded, this place would rejoin the Aerie Kingdom?

That thought and seeing JoJo and Sara spinning each other in circles made Zen feel like the wind had knocked from him again.

"Is something wrong?" Enki whispered.

"I—"

"More! More!" one of the children shouted, grasping Enki's hand and pulling him back into the throng.

The sparks had stopped.

Enki gave Zen an apologetic nod, allowing himself to be taken, and summoned another spell.

Zen didn't want to abandon the lily just yet, so he tucked it into the sash of his robes.

Morty was looking over a map Degnan must have given him, and he gestured Zen and the others over. When Khel tried to peek into Dante's bag, the half-giant horded it as if to say he had no intention of sharing, but Khel snagged a pastry anyway with swift hands.

"See here, friends," Morty said as they gathered.

The townsfolk gave them room, heading into the field to watch the show with their children. The map was crudely drawn but detailed, showing them the path ahead.

"Straight-forward with villages along the way that should also have protective circles. We'll only need to worry about attacks while between them. This is almost going to be easy."

"Getting to the lord, sure," Dante said, tucking the pastry bag under his arm when Morty tried to grab one too. "But how do we kill him?"

"You haven't thought of that?" Zen asked.

"Of course we have," Morty said. Khel managed to steal another pastry and handed it to Morty, who accepted it despite Dante's glower, and then dropped his voice to a whisper. "But maybe don't say we intend to kill their lord so loudly."

"They have to know," Dante whispered back, giving up and handing a pastry to Zen, since Khel kept pawing at him. "Outside adventurers asking for a way to his castle? What else could we want?"

"That doesn't mean we need to advertise our attentions any more than that," Morty said.

"We know why you're here."

They broke from their huddle, seeing Degnan on approach.

"Yet still you're helping us?" Morty studied the man.

"If the lord let you in, he's not afraid. He won't punish us for leading you where he wants you to go."

"But… he's alone, isn't he?" Zen asked. Delicious as the pastry looked, he couldn't stomach taking a bite yet. "He sent his horde away."

"He has plenty more than any you might have encountered. Not to mention his brides, all fiercely loyal, who will protect him at all costs."

"Brides?" Zen turned to Morty. "You said that before. What are they?"

"A vampire lord's favored progeny," Morty said. "Some say independent vampires are stronger because they serve no one. In truth, it depends on the power of the bride's maker, and if their maker dies, they become an independent themselves, and in turn can become a lord. What makes brides dangerous is their loyalty."

"How is one made compared to a spawn?" Zen asked.

"Rather than being drained and given blood in a single night, the vampire lord feeds on them only a little but still gives them some of their own blood. The lord does this three times, building a more powerful bond, impossible to resist. Brides are resistant to many ways you might think to kill them. You must dismember them and sanctify the ground where they're buried, or burn them to ash, otherwise they can come back to life."

Zen really wished he had somewhere to throw his pastry.

"Sounds fun," Dante said, already eating a second.

"Even that won't be enough to ensure the lord stays dead," Degnan said. "He requires more."

"More?" Zen almost didn't dare to ask.

"No one knows exactly, but even before the barrier started to fail, others would occasionally make it inside and venture forth to kill him. He always returns. They say it can only be permanent if tied back to how he was first cursed, but no one knows what that means."

"A priest of the Sun God should be able to handle that!" Khel declared, giving Zen a friendly pat.

Zen hadn't thought he could feel worse, but that managed it, having his secret announced openly when Enki had told him not to.

"Your Holy Fire ." Khel nudged him, not getting the hint from Zen's silence.

"Others have tried that as well," Degnan said, casting Zen a cryptic look. "Magic and prayer have their power, but they are not stronger than Gaian. He is the only god here."

"Papa!" one of the twins called.

Degnan gave a parting nod and excused himself to rejoin his family.

"Much as I hate to bring down anyone's good mood," Khel commented on Degnan's disheartening countenance, "maybe we should stay here, at least until tomorrow, and come up with a better plan."

"You may be right." Morty folded the map. "Let's see what this place has for accommodations." At last, he started to eat his pastry.

Zen still didn't know what to do with his, though he could admit it smelled amazing. "I'll catch up. I need to gather my things."

More and more sparks were exploding across the sky, parents watching in equal wonder, though a few of the children were twirling about with Enki again. Zen moved slowly to reclaim his gear, hoping Enki might steal away to talk to him.

He did.

"You'll definitely want to eat that," Enki said of the pastry. Zen had been about to shove it into one of his belt pouches. "Best in any village in Nightfall. Will I see you later?"

The churning in Zen's stomach managed to turn to pleasant flutters. "For one night at least."

"Good." Enki glanced down, seeming pleased when he saw the flower peeking above Zen's sash. "I'll find you at the festival, if not sooner. You won't want to miss it."

Enki went back to join the children.

Before Zen's stomach could protest, he took a large bite of the pastry. It was as good as it smelled, and he felt better the second it passed his lips.