The Anatomy of Vampires: Volume 1 (6 page)

The Lycan cried and twitched as I watched the Vampire roll his shoulders back, easing off his own rage. He took a few, final steps toward his victim. He was about to finish it, I could tell.

Just as he was about to lunge, someone unseen shouted, “STOP!”

My gaze snapped to another corner of the square in time to see a woman race out toward the fight. My first instinct was to dash out after her, to keep her safe. What was a woman going to do when faced with such treacherous danger? But with the quick sight of the determination etched on her tan face, something about it lead me to believe she would be quite capable. With the antidote for the invisibility heavy in my pocket, I stayed where I was.

The Vampire looked up in time to see the woman reach into a leather pouch at her belt, dashing something like a fine dust through the air before her, though the particles spun and zapped with a kind of electricity I’d never seen. I ducked lower, covering my ears from the loud snapping and popping of the sparks. It took me a moment to figure out exactly what her magic dust did. I could only see the outlines of the figures in all the haze. The Vampire seemed to become still. The woman drew slowly closer, and I saw him collapse in a heap on the ground. I gasped.

The woman gazed curiously down at him. Did she kill him, I wondered. To my surprise, she pivoted in my direction, the golden color of her eyes glaring toward me from between the long strands of her dark hair. A Witch. I knew, because she possessed the same magical quality of the others I had come across. The same worldliness and cunning.

“You there!” She shouted.

I glanced behind myself to look for the person she was talking to.

“Get out of here before you’re killed. You have no business inside these borders!”

How could she have possibly been talking to me? I gulped, slowly getting to my feet. Silently, I gestured to myself in question. Could she see me?

“I mean it! Before these two regain consciousness, you’d better be out of here. I won’t be kind enough to save your hide again!” She shouted and started stalking off in the direction she came.

“Wait!” I called and she stopped again. “You can…see me?”

“No, you twit,” she answered. “You’re invisible.”

My fingers twitched for the vile of antidote in my pocket. This Enchantress was captivating, with eyes silver like the moon, and black hair chopped about her heart-shaped face, colored in streaks of purple. A leather belt hung low at her waist with various bottles of concoctions and odd-looking, metal weapons. I’d never seen a woman wear men’s trousers quite so short, either. For some reason, I wanted her to see me, but that would have been stupid. If I drank the antidote, escaping the Occult city would have been impossible.

“Then how do you know I am here?” I asked.

The Witch snorted and slapped her hands against the side of her legs before she said, “Do I look like an idiot? That spell is so basic, it reeks! Whoever gave it to you wasn’t very skilled. I can sense you from kilometers away.” She stopped for a moment and crossed her arms over her chest. “What is a mortal like you doing here anyway?” She seemed completely put out.

“I am here…seeking truth. Knowledge. I have…questions.”

She rolled her eyes and sighed before waving her arm as if to instruct me to follow her.

I did so, running up quickly behind her and soon the Witch and I were walking together down one of the side streets of the square. “I—”

“Hush!” She snapped. “You must be quiet until we get inside. I don’t need the others thinking I’ve gone crazy—talking to myself.”

Instantly, I mashed my lips together and we went on in silence until she stopped before a narrow, concrete stairwell. It dipped below the foundation of the road, leading into a mysterious-looking, crooked black door. Raising her palm, flat toward the door, she uttered, “
Intrant
!”

A quick burst of wind blew her hair back behind her shoulder and the door creaked open on its rusted hinges. She looked at me again and put her finger to her lips. I nodded.

Following her down the darkened steps, we entered a place I imagined to be where she lived. She removed her belt and scarf, hanging them up on a coatrack by the door that looked like a barren tree growing up from the floorboards. “Mistress, I’m home!” She called to someone unseen down a dusty, shadowed corridor, from which many a doorway led to rooms, which branched off. I was surprised when she grabbed my hand and led me through the first threshold on the right. Shoving me inside the room, she whirled around and closed the door, latching it with at least three metal locks.

I gazed in wonder to find we were in a study of sorts. There was a sleeping hearth at the end of the room—literally sleeping, the stonework seeming to expand and contract with the signs of steady, peaceful breath. If I tried hard enough, I could have sworn there were even sounds of snoring. Surrounding us were haphazard shelves and stacks of books. Near the vaulted ceiling an enchanted night sky twinkled down at me. I stepped forward and tried my best not to trip over strewn glass bottles and other magical paraphernalia.

“Why are you helping me?” I asked, though still totally preoccupied with studying the makings of the mystifying room around me.

She lifted an eyebrow at me. “Not many of your kind believe in magic. Not many of your kind know where to seek it, nor would they risk their lives by doing so. I’m thinking you must have a pretty great reason for crossing these borders. Either that, or you are a very, very careless man. Now, quickly, before they smell you here, tell me what you want and then I can get you back just outside the borders,” she growled, stomping forward toward the fireplace. “Eros! Eros, wake up!”

Taking a step back, I watched in bewilderment as the bricks making up the fireplace stretched wide—like the hearth was a giant, yawning mouth. Soot spewed out in a puff of dark air, as though the thing had actually exhaled, before a fire roared to life over the wood. The warm flames crackled, illuminating the musty study.

The Witch turned, eyeing me expectantly and clapped her hands twice, snapping me from my stupefied state.

“Yes. Right,” I blinked, shaking my head. “I’m here on a quest for knowledge, you see. My wife. She’s recently—”

“Fallen to the darkness,” the Witched cooed as she waved her hand mystically through the air. She took a few more slow steps toward me.

I frowned. “Yes. But, how did you—”

“I am a Seer. I See things,” she explained, stopping so her nose was nearly touching where mine would be had I not still been invisible.

“As do I.”

“This is no joking matter!” She snapped.

I could see the shimmering flecks of indigo in her silver-colored irises. They gave her away, for from a distance, she looked like any ordinary mad woman, her hair a frazzled, lovely mess about her thin face. I then noticed the many ornaments hanging from her neck, all done in different metals, stones, and shapes. I gathered they each had a function of their own, but there was no need to pry about them.

“Each Witch specializes in one of the thirteen fields of sorcery. Some heal. Others potion-make. I See.”

“I see,” I repeated and she slapped me hard, clear across the face. I looked back at her wide eyes, filled with insanity and I knew I had to choose my words more carefully. “My apologies. So, you must know why I am here, then. Is that the real reason why you are helping me?”

“Yes.” She stepped back, though still not taking her gaze off of me, and clasped her hands over her lips. “Your poor, dear wife. She’s in good hands, however. She is being cared for by a Phaser, no less.” She turned, walking toward the fireplace. Lifting her hand, she waved it through the air again, causing a small black cauldron in the corner to whiz through the room until it landed, swinging, on a hook above the flames.

“A what?”

“A Phaser. A creature that appears human, but can shape shift at their will. They possess great strength, though not much power beyond that,” she continued with her back toward me, though I could see her pull her fist up in a plucking sort of motion before I heard the distinct sound of water filling a basin somewhere. “Have a seat.” She gestured then to one of the velvet-covered armchairs.

It was dusty, but I sat myself down anyway. I was growing wearier by the moment and I figured I was already quite a mess. “How many…
types
of you are there? In the Occult?”

“Many,” she whispered. “And we are finding new types every day. We’ve got races, just like your world does. And our own wildlife. And species.” Twirling her wrist, a teacup and saucer then danced through the room toward her, and she took it, bringing up the now simmering cauldron with the other hand. I watched in wonderment, utterly fascinated. Each moment, more and more questions aroused, but I knew this would be a quick visit. “Tea?”

“Yes, please.”

“Fine!” She shouted, tossing the filled cup at me. Amazing, its contents did not spill as I caught it. I was surprised to see a small biscuit had joined in on the saucer. “But you are to finish it quickly, and then I must take you back.”

“Sure,” I nodded. Not all Witches I’d met were this bonkers. But none were this talented either. “What is your name, by the way?”

“Elda,” she muttered, busied with pouring her own cup of tea. She took her own seat and I watched as a small, silver spoon stirred her tea by itself.

“And your fireplace…it’s—”

“Alive. Yes. This is Eros. My husband.”

I nearly choked on the last bit. Elda rested her chin atop her fist and side-glanced at the fireplace bitterly. “I’m sorry. Perhaps it is none of my business, but I don’t understand.”

“It’s not for you to understand.” She sipped at her tea and I knew I’d somehow mistakenly stumbled over a raw nerve. “Let’s just say his
passions
were a bit too fiery for his own good!” She shot the fireplace a look again, and the flames abruptly fizzled out to nothing but silver smoke. “He’s a tad touchy now that his mouth is made of bricks. Aren’t you, Eros?”

Again, the hearth spit a slew of smoke into the air. I coughed, waving it out of my face.

“Well, there you go!” She shouted at it. “You’ve let our marital issues disrupt our house guest! And now he’s uncomfortable!”

“No, no!” I shook my head. “No, it’s quite all right.” I saw her eyes fill with tears and I knew I needed to stop her. If I didn’t get my main question answered now, I probably never would. “What I was really hoping to find out was about the alliances to the Regime.”

She gasped, clutching her chest as if I’d said something forbidden. “The Regime is comprised of nothing but double-crossing, corrupt, lying bullies.”

“Much like our governments then,” I snorted, attempting to make a joke, but she neglected to crack a smile, only scowling at me like I was crazy. I cleared my throat. “Right. I’ve heard the Wizards are not too partial to the dark sides of the Occult.”

Elda nodded frantically. “Yes. It is said the Occult is comprised of two parts, the light and the dark, thereby creating balance. One cannot exist without the other. Vladislov and his followers seem to think otherwise.”

“But the Wizards…they are not simply male Witches?”

“Oh no!” She looked insulted. “Heavens, no! They are the eldest and most powerful Elves. The chosen ones. There are only four. No dear, we have
male
Witches.” She snickered like I’d missed something obvious.

I nodded.

“But I believe there is no true light and dark. All beings are more complex than that. There are good people who do bad things. There are bad people who do good things.”

“I believe the same thing.”

“It’s all part of the Regime and their brainwashing schemes. It’s all a conspiracy, if you ask me. Divide and conquer. They turn us on each other so we are made weaker and easier to control.” She wrapped her arms around herself and shivered.

“So, what of the Vampires? Do they fit this negative stigma cast upon them?” I dared not take out my notebook. She was crazy enough. She might have destroyed it. Instead, I did my best to keep a mental accounting of all she’d said.

“No. Not all, anyway. There are the bad ones—the ones who’ve gone mad with power and bloodlust. But at the end of the day, they are still only human.” She snorted. “Some of us choose to help them.”

“Are there races who show allegiance to the darker side of things?”

“Well, yes. The Vampires are considered dark, of course. With Witches, it tends to go either way. Same as Phasers. Elves are considered light, and therefore most of them shun the Vampires completely.”

“I understand.”

“Good. I foresee something big coming. Something great. The two sides will clash. I am answering your questions because I expect this knowledge to get out. And not just to magic kind. I believe the mortals must get involved at some point, lest they all perish. There needs to be balance, Alistair.” I didn’t remember telling her my name. “This uprising will come well after your time. But you must continue your search for knowledge. You must publish what you know. If I can make but a small difference, talking to you was worth risking my position. My life.” Elda abruptly stood and dashed for the door. “Now, before I am caught by the others, let’s get you out of here.”

I stood also, but there was still more I wanted to know. “Who? Who are the others?”

“Hush! We cannot speak of them aloud. They will know.”

“I don’t understand.”

“It’s not for you to understand. I’ve said enough.”

Before I knew it, she was grabbing at my arm and pulling me out through the door.

“But what is this place?”

“A school,” she shot quickly.

“A school?”

“Yes, now hush!”

“You live in a school?”

“I’m a resident professor.”

She flung open the front door where we’d entered, a puff of dust flying out around us. She made me go first, shoving me so harshly through the threshold, I had no time to ask her anything else. Instead, I’d found I’d swallowed some of the dust, and coughed and hacked, fighting desperately to regain my breath.

“Wait!” I continued to choke, reaching out for her.