Lilah (26 page)

‘Small compensation,’ said Arianne
sarcastically.

‘Get out!’

‘This is my home now,’ she returned.

I felt closed in by both of them as if I might
be crushed, so great were the forces in that room.

I backed towards the door as Gabriel stepped
closer to me.

‘Gabriel, did you know what Lewis did with the witches
who do not wish for
the change
?’

His silence was my answer.

‘I would have honoured the promise to your
father to protect you. I would not have allowed it. You have to believe that.’

‘Yet you didn’t try to save the others.’

‘I did not agree with it but it is not my role
to make such decisions. I have tried in my own way over the years to stop the
practice, by not revealing the whereabouts of certain witches who do not wish
to be found. Do not leave, I beg you, Lilah.’

I looked into his eyes but my eyes were so
clouded with my own tears.

‘Do not come near me. There is no relationship
between us, Gabriel. How can there be anything based on lies.’

I turned then and ran deep into the forest
thick with haze. I did not look back. I ran until the fall from the sky became
so heavy that I collapsed under the weight of it. At first the frigid air
seemed to crush my chest and breathing became harder. I shivered and then
little by little the pain in my fingers and toes began to wane and a measure of
peace came over me, knowing that my troubles might soon be over.

I was only partially conscious when I felt arms
encircle and lift me from the safety of my burrow of snow. I smelled the
familiar scent of frankincense on his garments. If I had the strength I would
have asked to be left there but I found none. I slept then with a burning fever
and would not wake for several days.

Gabriel

I feared that I had made too many
wrong decisions. I was not what a strigoi should be. Loyalty was the first word
I learnt when I changed and perhaps Lewis had been right when he said I floated
with the breeze to suit myself, breaking many of those ancient codes that had
held our covens together.

Discussion of these codes among other matters
was held at coven meetings. It was important that we learnt of those in power
who may affect our security and longevity, and learn of other kings and
conquerors, and influences across our lands. 

We had consorted with many royal members over
the years. So many of our own kind had sat on the throne as the King or the
Vivoide of Transylvania, only to fake their own deaths when the time came but
not before securing an heir to the throne who would protect our interests.
There had been moments of failure and we had come to a point in our history
when the royal lines would be tested.

We were not the only coven in kingdoms across
the lands. Many shared similar incidences of code breakers and discovery. Some
of these covens were our allies but there were others whose followers were
jealous of our power and stability. Some covens were run by weaker minded souls
who did not control their flock, or by the reborn indiscriminate with their
feeding. Although we did not always agree, our coven was fortunate to have
Lewis who put our safety and discretion above all else.

Though there was an obligation to attend these
meetings of the strigoi, it was best for all that I stayed away from the
castle. Lewis no longer took me into his confidence. But this was not the only
reason for my avoidance. I had never experienced rejection before, and being
too close to the castle reminded me of my stupidity for choosing another who
was not what she first appeared.

A hand touched my shoulder. It was small and
firm.

‘Are you coming?’

It was my wife who beckoned me for our hunt. I
witnessed much cruelty applied to her victims, something I neither liked nor
was able to control, and which left me questioning my own purpose and that of
my kind.

Arianne was by my side, day and night, and
while she no longer held a place in my heart, we learnt to co-exist fuelled by
my responsibilities towards her.

Lewis was right when he foresaw that my time of
flirtatious frivolity would come to an end. I was trapped.

PART TWO

Chapter 13

Lilah

We watched the last snow falling softly
to the ground and vanish, my daughter marvelling at the spectacle as if it was
magic. She was bright and happy but stubborn and single minded also. There was
a side to her much like her father, and to my dismay, born a witch as they all
are from a union such as ours.

I did not believe the histories, as Lewis
asserted, that witches were born of strigoi. I believed other theories that
strigoi forces were born of fallen angels and that witches were another of
God’s creatures only meant to heal.  Fallen angels were given the title of
the undead
who
stole the blood of witches to make them
stronger, combining their skills and stealing human forms until new miscreants
emerged – the strigoi.

Oleander would not fall victim to such design.
My plan, though grand, was to right history and, should I come upon such
enlightenment, all
reborn
strigoi would be returned to
their former selves. The first step in my plan would be to escape.

I had one final condition upon which I wed
Lewis: that after several years of marriage I would meet my parents. He had
agreed and the time had arrived for him to honour our bargain.

Sunlight broke through the gloom reaching down
her long graceful arms to melt the frost and coax the buds to sprout and
conceal their barren stalks with colour.

Spring and summer were safer seasons for
travelling as the strigoi were not so spritely in the heat and would not
venture too far south; the same direction I would one day travel, to leave the
castle for good. Lewis had constructed a gated courtyard in the grounds where I
could read and play with my daughter alone. In summertime, the courtyard
blossomed with tulips and roses, and Oleander would hitch her skirts and dangle
her feet in the rock pond. This place, which seemed to catch all the sunshine,
was my sanctuary and I would often go to read, write and reflect while Oleander
enjoyed the fresh air and freedom outside the oppressive walls of the castle.

Although the breeze still carried a wintry bite
that morning, I had brought Oleander outside to distance
ourselves
from the many strigoi who strolled the castle hallways to attend their meeting.
It was forbidden for a strigoi to touch or hurt a witch as they were considered
as worthy as the strigoi, but I knew, as nature and history had shown me, that rules
could easily be broken.

Giorgio, however, was a strigoi different from
the rest and someone with whom I spent much time: tall and lanky with a
pleasant bookish countenance, and without the same predatory glare of some of
the strigoi. We shared an appreciation of the garden and he amused me while we
sat together
sometimes making
jest of his own
eccentricities; such as his interest in poetry, and preference for clothes so
old they were threadbare in places. Georgio was always courteous to the human
staff without a hint of condescension and had the unique ability to gain
anyone’s
trust
; human, witch or strigoi.

I did not have fear of him as I did with others
and he would often play silly word games with Oleander. From my window I would
watch many groups of strigoi leave on foot for their hunts, and Giorgio was
rarely with them. As an elder he fed less and seemed less affected by the sight
of blood. I sensed he was not a particular favourite of Lewis – the
reasons unknown since Lewis kept much to himself – but he did see
Georgio’s merit and kept him close.

I studied hard in those years exploring
subjects on nature and history but in particular searching all scripts,
incantations and methods on the reincarnation of humans and animals. These
ancient doctrines bound in skin, seemingly older than the world itself,
suggested that the dead would return to their earthly life without issue;
though in many instances,
they were accompanied by spirits
from the underworld who had died violently or those rejected by heaven. The
writings referred to heaven as a place to reflect on, past and present, and
watch over creation objectively in a tranquil meditative existence. Those who
were not accepted would wander aimlessly around graveyards, watching and
waiting for witches to use their dark arts to bring the buried back to life. I
wondered then about the girl I had cured and if that were true about the
wandering spirits, whether she had been one of the lucky ones. Should the time
arise to perform such an act again, I would have the knowledge to fend off
those hopeless spirits if indeed they did exist.

I experimented on the rats from the cellar to
observe their behaviours and recorded those animals I brought back to life.
Some came back much like their previous state yet others returned in an altered
state: voracious and destructive.
Some returned disoriented, as if from a long sleep, but ultimately using
instincts they had prior to their demise.

My journal was filled with notes taken from
those ancient books in Lewis’s library. Lewis was unaware of my book and
indulged my research occupation. He did not know just how much I had gathered
on matters of curing and other deeds, with sketches of various plants and
recipes for potions. Nor that I had copied those recordings he thought hidden;
of
failed reversal practices of
the change
from
strigoi to witch. These offered the possibility of expanding and improving upon
the weaknesses of previous methods to one day offer hope to strigoi, like
Claude and Arianne, who might no longer have the urge to kill.

During this period, many strange visions
appeared in my dreams: of fire, wars and earthquakes and the deaths of certain
humans in the villages far away from us. I began recording these also. Such
information could prove useful.

Lewis generously provided a basement room from
which to conduct my various experiments. He believed I was testing herbs and
healing potions on sick animals only, and though he often commented that such
practices were both time wasteful and unusual, he humoured my private time,
perhaps pleased that such occupation relieved any chance for despondence or
boredom.

One night, I had carried Oleander with me to my
room and after locking the door behind
me,
I placed
her to sleep in a cot beside my work table. Though Lewis would not allow harm
to come to his daughter it gave me peace of mind to keep her by my side,
especially around the time of the full moon.

This day, I was studying my specimen, who had
revived in a somewhat placid form, when I sensed someone behind me. I could not
tell how long Neve had been standing there and whether she had used her magic
to pick the lock.

Neve had passed through
the change
to
become a strigoi, but her late middling years showed in the lines around her
eyes, and knowing that she was vain, she would need to sleep to renew her
youth.

‘You are not supposed to be here.’

‘You avoid the strigoi. You think you are above
us all and you have somehow bewitched our master. I thought it was time we
spoke. Several of my witch friends wish for
the change
but Lewis has
refused them, saying they do not have the strength to receive the gifts. I find
that hard to believe. I think it is because of you he did not offer the gift.’

‘Those matters are for my husband.’

Neve had never liked me. She was envious and
once had hopes for Lewis’s attentions. I had pushed those dreams aside. I had
heard from Irene that she lay crying for days after our wedding and threatened
to burn herself to ash if she could not have him to herself. Then Lewis had
called her into his library and they had spoken for many hours. After that she
became a strigoi. Since that day she has been subdued. I do not think it was
all her choice and I felt a mixture of pity and wariness towards her for it had
also been her intention to bear a child before
the change
. Though, I
believed with my witch’s sense that she was long past
child-bearing
years anyway.

She did not have any family to recognise her,
abandoned like me in a busy town and taken in by meat sellers and, from a very
young age, set to toil in their workrooms. She had run away and learned to live
alone, discovering her craft. Her visions had led her to the castle.

‘Your daughter is not like you. I can read
her.’

‘My daughter has nothing to do with you.’

‘She will make a great strigoi one day.
Breeding is not in her plans.’

‘You make up stupid stories. Now get out.’

‘I can see things. I am not so powerful but
there are some things I know.’

Neve stood there watching Oleander and I took a
step between her gaze and that of my sleeping daughter for her closeness was a
violation.

‘Leave now.’

She didn’t.

‘What do you want?’