A portal opened and closed farther down the corridor, and the blast of fresh air must have been a doggen coming in or departing, for that subspecies of the race was not affected by the rays of the day. As footsteps approached him, he whispered unto a door and was relieved when he opened it and discovered another storage room. Ducking in, he waited, and as the servant passed, he stayed still and silent.
When things were clear, he leaned out once again and frowned.
That was not the scent of a doggen. That was a male vampire.
Thus it had to still be night?
Picking up his pace, he continued on, following the corridor to its terminus before ascending one set of steps and then another. And still the silence persisted, up above, all around. Where were the castle’s inhabitants?
A broad staircase, capable of accommodating many males shoulder to shoulder, presented itself, and that was when he smelled something that made him pick up his pace rather than worry about remaining undetected.
His cousin! She was near!
Upon the head of the steps, the great hall unfurled—and he gasped. “Rahvyn!”
Rushing forth, he crossed the stone flooring unto the hearth where the female had been chained to steel loops mounted in the thick, mortared wall, her head hanging loose, her robing marked with dirt and blood, more blood matting her dark hair.
“Rahvyn, dearest Virgin Scribe, Rahvyn . . .” He was gentle with his trembling hands as he brushed her locks back. “Look at me—”
As she lifted her face, he felt a rage that went to his bones.
Both of her eyes had been blackened, her lip was split, and there was a bruise around her neck.
Her stare, however, glittered with a power he could not immediately comprehend.
“Rahvyn, I shall get you free—” Heedlessly dropping the torch, he went for the pinnings struck into the wall. “I shall—”
“No,” she hissed. “They cannae hurt me—”
Sahvage froze. Then redoubled his efforts.
“Whate’er you say?” He yanked at the steel chains and formulated a way to carry her out. “Just a moment—”
“I am back now. They cannae hurt me.”
Sahvage frowned. Something in her tone of voice, her words . . . “What?”
“I was gone, but I have returned. And I shall not be hurt again.”
“How did they hurt you,” he said baldly.
“You are likewise released. You are free the now. Go forth and worry not for me—”
“What do you mean, I am free?”
“I have freed you, and now you may go—”
“I shall not leave you—”
In a voice that warped with an authority he did not understand, Rahvyn pronounced, “I shall take care of myself. And you shall leave, for the only power any shall e’er have over either of us is me.”
He shook his head. “What say you.”
“We shall be separate from now on.”
Sahvage resumed his yanking. “No more of this talk. I shall remove you away from here and take well care of you—”
Heavy, pounding footfalls the now. Many of them, some number of males of great weight and armament coming forth from elsewhere within the castle.
Sahvage pulled so hard against the steel chains, he felt a pop in his shoulder joint, but the ring came out, the chains rattling. He went to the other side.
“Stop,” Rahvyn ordered. “Unhand the chains. I am unafraid.”
“After what they did to you—”
“I have been unlocked through Zyxsis’s violence. I have no regrets—”
The second pinning came loose, and then he tried to scoop her up in his arms.
His beloved cousin shoved him back. “No! I am not going with you—”
“Are you mad?”
“If you do not separate us, I shall, Sahvage. We must needs be apart, and you are free now—”
And that was when a stand of guards came unto the archway. They were a full flank’s worth, uniformed in the ribbon colors of Zxysis’s bloodline, armed with weapons of sword and gun.
As Sahvage placed his body between his charge and his now-sworn enemy, he took up the torch once more as the only defense he had outside of his physical form. Bracing himself, he orientated his position unto the exits, which were the stairs he had come up and the—
The guards stayed where they were, weapons poised, bodies prepared for attack, yet the violence remaining on the brink rather than called unto realization.
Fear marked their eyes.
As none moved, a strange sense of foreboding had Sahvage looking back at his cousin. She was staring at the guards with a concentration that seemed like something he could reach out and feel, like a rope or a set of chains such as those that fell from her wrists.
“I told your lord to leave me,” she said unto the males. “And he did not listen. I shall not give you such a choice of retreat.”
All at once, the scabbards and flint rifles lowered and then dropped unto the stone with a clattering. And then came the trembling. Those male bodies, so stout and strong in their protective leathers, began to shake. Every one of them. And then hands reached for throats, reached for temples, reached for chests. Panic flared eyes even wider—