Why did he even bother?

All at once I felt awkward and unsure what to say. It was a strangely thoughtful gift—one that said he hadn’t expected me to really join the Monastery.

It was the only gift I’d received since I was a child. Sufficient words spoiled on my tongue, and the most I managed was a mumbled thanks while clutching the belt tight between my fingers.

“I’m pleased you like it.”

I nodded once more and returned to my projects. I had better luck understanding the mechanics of a lock than what would compel a vampire to give me a gift.

Over the next days, my back healed. After a few weeks, I could move without sharp pain. My energy returned.

But neither of us discussed what would happen after.

Instead, once I was feeling brave, I asked, “Who’s Anagenni?”

We were sitting in the bedroom again. At first, Raphael had watched me in constant silence. I was the one who broke it, and now we spoke about different things while I worked. Well, Raphael did much of the talking, at my request. He told me of travels, of different parts of the kingdom even I hadn’t heard of. He said nothing of the Vampire Kingdom, but sometimes he’d allude to things which would set my curiosity ablaze.

“Even the Monastery didn’t know,” I continued when he said nothing.

Raphael snorted. “I suppose those fanatics wouldn’t. Anagenni is the goddess of death. The vampires revere her.”

I balked. “Why would the Witch Kingdom have a temple to a vampire god?”

“I didn’t say she’s a vampire goddess. Just that we revere her while you all have shunned her for the past few centuries.”

Ironic. The undying creatures worshiped death, while the mortals forsook her.

“Are you really going to go to her temple in the marshes? Whatever the Black Grimoire is, you’re not a witch. It’s useless to you.”

“We are going to the marshes,” he said, like it was a forgone conclusion.

I blinked at him. The past few days, we’d been in a domestic stasis, tinkering, talking. I hadn’t considered… no, I hadn’t let myself consider what would happen after.

“You’re healed enough now. We leave tomorrow.”

OceanofPDF.com

Chapter Twenty

Raphael, for all his disappearances in our time at the cabin, hadn’t bothered to steal another horse, which meant I was back to riding on Alphonse with him. He had, however, picked up a choice few cards, including one that enchanted the horse’s legs to be able to handle the wet terrain.

Since he couldn’t cast the cards himself, surely that meant he’d expected me to come with him. Imperious vampire.

But I went with him anyway. I couldn’t stay in Apante after Raphael had just killed the highest-ranking members of the Apante Monastery, which was the only place that could shelter me. My next best hope was to follow him north, and once he accomplished his goal, convince him to deposit me in a village where I could build a life undetected. Eventually, the king’s men would likely find me, and I’d need to run and find somewhere new or be caught, but I didn’t have a better option yet.

He rode with uncharacteristic gentleness. Whether it was because of the marsh’s terrain or that he had some lingering concern about my wellbeing… it was easier to believe the former.

We reached the temple a few days later. There was no mistaking the sight. Buried in the depths of the marshes was a temple perhaps half the size of the Monastery and a third as tall. It was made of shiny black stone that had withstood the elements. Even covered in years of vines and shrouded in mists, it radiated power. Something in me felt compelled to see the inside in a way I hadn’t felt at the Great Library or the Monastery.

Another puzzle.

“You’ll wait here,” Raphael declared, dismounting from Alphonse with ease.

“I most certainly will not,” I retorted. “And let an ogre have me for lunch?”

“You don’t have enough meat to entice an ogre to expend the effort.”

I looked around dramatically. “Ah, yes. Because ogres in the marshes have so many options, they’re picky about which weak little humans they snack on.”

“There’ll be traps. It’s too dangerous.”

I frowned. “You sound like you’ve been inside before.”

A beat. “I have.”

So it wasn’t luck that led us so easily to the temple. Still, why? Were things so different hundreds of years ago that vampires ventured into the Witch Kingdom for temples?

Or was it from his life… before?

“Then you’ll keep me safe,” I countered. “You’re the one who’s constantly been saying I’m safer with you than without you.”

Raphael hesitated. Indecision warred inside him—he obviously wasn’t used me challenging him on his plans. Especially not me asserting any kind of trust in him. But I did trust the vampire—to a point. And more than that, I wanted to go inside that temple, the way a child wants to run down a long, empty corridor.

And I really didn’t want to find out which of us was right about ogre preferences.

I could see the moment I won him over. “Step where I step. And don’t touch anything,” he warned while helping me off the horse.

I rolled my eyes and followed him inside.

The temple was dark.

There was barely any other way to describe it. Despite the aged appearance, inside was all sleek black stone. Unnatural, glistening stone, all one piece rather than blocks, as though the temple had been carved from onyx.

Raphael moved cautiously inside, but with his vampire vision, the dark wasn’t an issue. Me, I had to improvise. I’d snagged a branch from the marsh and concentrated, using one of the fire cards to light it. The magic had to work uphill to keep the waterlogged wood alight. The light was dim, barely enough for me to see the area directly in front of me. If Raphael stopped abruptly, I’d probably knock into him.

The air pricked against my skin. Gooseflesh pebbled on my arms as we moved past the entryway. The magic was thick in the air.

At the first fork, Raphael didn’t hesitate to go left.

“How do you know your way around?” I asked, my words echoing off the walls.

He paused, briefly running his fingers against the wall. Could he feel the magic radiating off of the stone as I could? “All that matters is I do. Now, do exactly as I do.”

He pressed a palm into the stone again, and to my shock, the wall rippled like it was made of water. On the floor, the stone lit up splashes of red and blue. He moved deftly over them. Each lit spot sparkled slightly when his foot bore down on it. He only touched the red ones.

I slid my hand against the wall, trying to find the exact spot he’d used. The stone was firm, but when I pressed, it rippled for me, just as it had for him.

But that wasn’t all.

The tingling sensation of magic moved to a faster vibration, like I was shaking even as my body stood still. Like the ripples moved from the wall into me.

Like something was waking up.

“Little dove,” Raphael hissed, snapping me from the sensation. “Stop dawdling.”

“I’m not dawdling,” I grumbled, matching my steps to the red spots. As my foot landed, sparks flew and then the area behind me darkened. The vibrations no longer filled my body. I turned back and lifted my torch to look, but the path behind us was back to normal. Since it reacted to me, it wasn’t Raphael somehow using magic to navigate, but rather the temple’s own magic.

He paused at the next intersection, as if considering.

To the left.

I wasn’t sure where the thought came from, only that it was sudden, strange, and certain, but a second later, Raphael shifted and went down the path to our left.

A lucky guess. That was all.