Chapter 19

Slumping into the throne formerly belonging to Queen Lilith, Zaybris frowned. He picked at the seat's crumbling leather lining and swung his legs over the armrest. A handful of servants, both Goblyn and vampire, rushed in, but Zaybris waved them away. Tonight was an evening for contemplation.

His black boots gleamed under the candlelit chandeliers. He held one leg up, pleased to see that his calves filled out the boot again. His linen pants fit better too, no longer bunched at the knee. His flesh was slowly regenerating, thanks to more frequent visits to the human world. Since his experience with the last human he had presumptuously named Adam, his trips were now focused strictly on feeding. Zaybris was no longer certain that bringing a human to Aurelia was God's will.

He absently ran his fingers over the traveler"s stone suspended from a chain around his neck. What was God's plan for him now? He held the stone up to the light, marveling at how innocuous it seemed, yet its ability to take its keeper to any dimension was astounding. There was nothing like it, not even in the Faerie Realm, where he had mistakenly spent the past twenty years. His grip tightened around the stone, angry about how foolish he had been, but he released it abruptly. It was dangerous to touch it while dreaming of other lands.

Yes, the legends were true, a minute spent in the Faerie realm did equate to the passing of twenty years in other lands. But how was he to have known? He had been so distraught from his disastrous trip to the Underworld. After disposing of that vile little demon spawn in Aurelia, he transported himself to the first realm that had crossed his mind.

He slammed a fist down on his knee. So much time wasted! And what had it gotten him? Only pain. Not redemption, not revenge. Not even recognition.

A crackle, then a soft thump drew his attention to the left. Another chunk of the brick had fallen from the throne room's ceiling, exposing a sliver of the night sky. He groaned, hating that yet another repair must be added to his list.

Was he being tested? Zaybris had always known his fate was greater than that of a barber's son. It was confirmed the day he was reborn. One moment he had been sipping champagne at a party, celebrating the close of the nineteenth century. The next, a band of caped creatures had swarmed the room. He had watched in horror as everyone at the party was attacked and drained, his friends' bodies lying bloodless and still on the floor.

Zaybris knew the myth of vampires, yet had never dreamed they were real. There was no denying the truth, though, once he felt a cold hand at his throat and fangs sink into his skin. He had struggled, but his efforts were useless. The only thing he could do as his life force flowed out of him was pray. He had prayed for strength and courage for the next part of his journey, and forgiveness for all the pain he had caused others in life.

He remembered how, when his eyes slid shut, a white light appeared—warm and welcoming. But as he moved toward the light, it abruptly winked out, leaving him lost in an abyss of darkness.

When he woke, he had been surprised to find himself not within that warm light, but in the same room where he had taken his last breath. He looked around, feeling no emotion at the multitude of dead bodies surrounding him. A great hunger had replaced the pain he felt, and his teeth throbbed sweetly. His mouth was dry, yet it wasn't water he craved. When he saw blood trickle from the mouth of a dead woman beside him, desire as he had never known stirred.

That day he knew he was no longer a vessel of flesh, but a being of spiritual glory. He had been chosen to serve as one of God's favored children—the vampire. While other survivors in the room, like his colleague Waldron, grieved their change, Zaybris had rejoiced. For he knew the Creator had selected only those most worthy to walk eternally upon His creation.

Running his tongue over his fangs, Zaybris thought back to how proud he felt when his brother, Julian, had begged him to make him immortal. It wasn't up to him, Zaybris had warned before sinking his fangs into his brother's flesh, it was fate that decided who rose again. Fortunately, Julian did not succumb to death, and the brothers joined with other vampires in Newark to feed on lesser beings.

Zaybris had never felt so invigorated. At last, he belonged. He finally understood his purpose in life after decades of feeling like an outcast—until he realized that being highly favored had consequences.

Astrologers and mediums spoke of how his kind violated the order of life and death. Fringe newspapers had called for the eradication of his race, and books imagined them not as higher beings, but ancient villains. Then when some jealous, unworthy mortals on the edge of society began slaughtering vampires with stakes and sunlight, God had sent not an angel, but a divine protector—a shining queen who would lead their exodus into the land of Aurelia.

Lilith…

He would never forget the first time he saw her. She appeared as a winged creature on the Gaia plane with a long neck, clawed feet, and tail. He had been frightened when she descended upon his horde, for she embodied the local legend of the Leeds Devil. However, he quickly became enamored with her gentle voice and promises to care for his people in her lands.

The less violent vampires among them accepted her offer of sanctuary immediately. They were eager to live a respectable life despite their new hungers. Julian and his lover Margery were less inclined to join but relented when Lilith explained that they could accompany her into Aurelia or meet their true death at the end of a stake.

Zaybris did not need convincing. Lurking in the shadows and preying on the weak had suited him, but Lilith's brown eyes were compelling. He was even more certain of his decision once they arrived in Aurelia and he saw her regain her true form. The Goblyn queen looked more like an angel than a devil or monster. She was tall with long, auburn hair, skin as prismatic as an opal, and gracefully pointed ears. Her majestic wings swayed when she was calm and quivered when she was angry. Zaybris was in awe of his queen. Immediately he volunteered to help her acclimatize vampires to their new world, and she accepted.

The Aurelian queens did not condone the killing of innocents so gone were the days of tearing flesh and violence. Vampires in Aurelia were nourished by blood donated by Aurelian citizens and sipped from crystal goblets.

Time moved strangely in Aurelia, so Zaybris was not sure when the changes to their bodies occurred, but they came slowly. First, he noticed a childhood injury to his shoulder had begun to ache again. Others complained of arthritis flares and diminished energy. Zaybris's hair was losing its shine, and his feet hurt when strolling through Queen Lilith's night-blooming gardens.

Zaybris had begged the queen to explore other ways to stop the decay of their bodies, perhaps with live feedings from the vein, but she dismissed him. Growing older was natural, Lilith had said. Plus, she did not trust vampires to limit themselves to "just a sip."

Julian had grown particularly angry about her inaction and left Goblyn lands in search of better nourishment. Zaybris had worried about him, but soon after, their lands were left without a ruler. Then there were more pressing concerns for him to attend to.

Yet, I still failed.

He used his sleeve to dash the tears pricking his eyes. Foolishness. There was no time for sentimentality or pining. Lilith was gone, but now he would rule in her stead. He would unite the vampires to seize their destiny as the dominant race of Aurelia. But first, he must heal their decomposing bodies.

"You seem troubled," said a baritone voice from his right. Zaybris turned to see Waldron studying him from the doorway, dressed in a brown tweed suit with a red bow tie. "Finding it difficult to be back in Aurelia, my friend?"

Anger rippled through Zaybris at the casualness of Waldron"s tone. He bared his teeth at the other vampire and shouted, "You will address me as your king!"

Waldron didn't react. One hand rested over his rounded belly, while the other stroked what was left of his formerly grand mustache. Zaybris studied him from the bottom of his polished loafers to the top of his bushy gray head. His eyes looked tired, his skin sallow.

Unlike Zaybris, who dressed with an elegance bordering on extravagance, Waldron preferred the simple tailoring of brushed cotton sack suits, waistcoats, silk cravats, and well-tailored vests that had been fashionable in the 1890s. His ability to stay calm in the face of strong emotions hadn't changed either. It had been an admirable trait when they practiced law together, but now it only irritated Zaybris.

Deciding to let Waldron's impertinence slide, Zaybris said, "Yes, your king is troubled, and frankly, I cannot understand why you are not. Don't you yearn for true nourishment? Something to turn your hair from silver to ginger again?"

Waldron's face showed pure disappointment. "Not this again, Lawrence… "

Rage. Sheer, blind rage rushed through Zaybris, overwhelming him. He leaped from his throne to grab Waldron by the throat before throwing him to the ground. Crouching over him, he seethed, "I told you never to call me that! Lawrence is dead!" Waldron's eyes widened as Zaybris's fingernails squeezed into his jowls.

"I… apologize… " Waldron wheezed.

"To whom? You apologize to whom?"

"I apologize, King Zaybris… Your… Your majesty."

Releasing his grip, Zaybris smoothed his hands down the other man's vest. It took a moment for every last drop of fury to leave his body. Quietly he explained, "I relinquished that name, along with all the failures associated with it, the day I became an immortal. Do you not remember?"

Waldron coughed several times before answering, "I do. Forgive me."

Zaybris walked back to the throne, which creaked as he fell into it. He rubbed his temples then motioned for Waldron to approach. "Ah, I forgive you. Come. Sit at my feet while I unburden myself."

Waldron lowered himself to the steps leading up to the throne, the effort of the movement obvious in his face. "My king, something arrived—"

"Am I such a villain to desire what's best for our people?" Zaybris interrupted. He stared up at the castle's vaulted ceiling. "I want our people to thrive here, not simply survive on inferior blood. Is that so wrong? We were meant to rule this land at our full strength. Are you not tired of living in a body as battered as this castle? Do you not wish to be renewed?"

Waldron averted his eyes.

"Answer me," Zaybris said.

"There are many vampires that support your work. But me? I crave my end. My wife craves her end. We're content with letting nature take its course."

Zaybris waved his hand. "Trapped in those bodies, how could you not wish for release? But you'll soon change your mind."

"I'm afraid I won't," he said. "We aren't immortal. We believed ourselves to be, but it's not true."

"What do you mean?"

"We are starting to die naturally—the older ones of us, especially. My neighbor passed last week. He laid down before dawn and never woke again. The same happened to a vampire in Drago lands a month before. Her daughter followed soon after."

Zaybris was suddenly deeply uncomfortable. "Hogwash."

"It's not. We have a lifespan, it seems." Waldron motioned to the spots of decomposition on his formerly ruddy face. "As our outer body decays, so do our organs. It's only a matter of time."

Zaybris tapped his boot on the floor anxiously. He was about to probe Waldron further about these deaths when his friend extended his hand. A shard of crystal lay across his palm.

"I came to show you this, my king. A courier brought it from the Malkina lands. It's for you," Waldron said.

Zaybris looked down at the white crystal with suspicion. It was about the size of a cigar, jagged at both ends with one side polished flat. "What am I to do with it?"

"The courier said it would reveal a message for the recipient."

"Do you think it's enchanted? How do I know it's not poison?"

"I can't say, but it hasn't harmed me so far."

Curiosity outweighed caution, and Zaybris withdrew the shard from Waldron's hand. Nothing happened at first until he held it up to the light. The image of a face glowed within.

"It's Queen Thema of the Malkina," Zaybris said.

"Do you want to receive the message in private?" Waldron asked.

"No, you may—" His words were cut off when the queen's voice began to resonate from within the crystal.

"Dearest Zaybris, King Zaybris, welcome home," the queen purred in her sultry voice. "My sisters and I are so pleased to have a strong leader like you return to our realm."

The queen smiled demurely, and pride rushed through Zaybris at the compliment. "Greetings," he said, then realized she could not see or hear him. The message was embedded in the crystal.

"We hate seeing what's become of your people and want to help. So, to welcome you as the new ruler of the vampire and Goblyn race, I would like to offer you a gift. Consider it a peace offering to Aurelia's new king."

Zaybris's lips parted. A gift? For him? How delightful. And appropriate. Actually, why hadn't he received more gifts since he took reign? He had always found Thema to be Lilith's orneriest of sisters, but perhaps she had softened with time. He leaned closer as the message continued.

"King Zaybris, I want to offer you a human. A living human, here in Aurelia. She is beautiful, healthy, and robust with life. She came to us by chance, but I give her to you by choice."

Zaybris's body began to tremble. Could this be true?

"She will be delivered to you at your castle in the coming weeks. I hope you will make her feel… welcome. There are others who would do anything to possess her. So I ask of you, King Zaybris, when my servant arrives, please receive him and the human alone. Put an old queen's mind at ease that this precious gift will go directly into your care."

Zaybris knew Queen Thema could not see him, but he nodded furiously all the same. He turned to see if Waldron was as thrilled as he was, but his expression was serious.

A coquettish smile lit the queen's face, and her golden eyes twinkled. "Very well then, King Zaybris. I bid you good night. I look forward to the boons of our new friendship."

The image faded, and the crystal turned clear again.

It was several minutes before Zaybris felt he could speak. When sound finally rose from his throat, it wasn't speech. It was laughter, so joyful and fervent that it made Waldron lean back.

His prayers had been answered. A true miracle! The reason why all of his missions had failed dawned on him. Greater mysteries had been at work this entire time.

He turned to Waldron. Clasping the other vampire's hands, he said, "At last, our salvation has come!"

"Eh, this seems very strange, my king… " Waldron said.

"It"s not strange. It's good fortune! At last." Zaybris did a little dance around Waldron then clapped him on the back. "However, if it will take weeks for her to arrive, I don"t know if I can wait until then. If vampires are dying, as you say, lives are at stake. I want the human now. And a king always gets what he wants."

Placing his hands on his hips, Zaybris roared for his servants. After they came skittering in, he declared, "Send word to every vampire—there is a human in Aurelia! He who finds her and brings her to me untouched will receive a great reward. They will be appointed to my counsel of advisors, receive ten bags of gold, and… they will be among the first of my subjects to receive a vial of her blood. After I take my share, of course."

The servants looked confused and failed to leap into action, which enraged Zaybris. "YOUR KING HAS SPOKEN!" he shouted, and each of the servants began to run in different directions. He stuffed the crystal into the breast pocket of Waldron's jacket, instructing him to keep it safe.

Zaybris adjusted the ruffles that ringed his shirt cuffs. Everything was coming together beautifully.

Soon Lilith will see how worthy I am of her.