Vampiris Sancti: The Elf (32 page)

He pursed his
lips at her Vampiric adventures because the world was filled with
those almost Aunsin.

“What do you
mean almost Aunsin—do you mean those at the Ashre?”

Zyre shook her
head. “The one known as Galt.”

Hearing the
name he frowned. “I know of this Vampire. He was warned of our
presence because of you interrupting us on the roof. The Goblin
already told me of him in our meeting, so this is nothing new.”

Zyre felt the
exasperation of not being heard—she was speaking but he was so busy
complaining about his adventures in smelly that he wasn’t
listening. “Vryn!”

His name
slipped out in frustration while his eyes warmed and she knew she
finally had his full attention.

“I saw, but
didn’t know what I saw, but now I know because of the Goblin. There
was too many, tis another Martyc on world.”

“I know—a Myruj
has come. This is nothing to bother about and is Empire
business.”

The Xatn was
calm—of course he was calm—because he thought it was a watcher, but
his timing was wrong. The Empire was maddening with their
complacent superiority and she understood the fury of the
bandit.

“No wonder
Taryst has a vendetta against the Empire because you are all stupid
as rocks!”

The mention of
her name had the Martyc demand violently, “That is none of your
business—what do you know of her?”

“I am trying to
tell you but you are too busy being smug as a—-.”

“Elf with
gossip or a Pixie with gin?”

Beb belched in
fright at being mentioned by the demon for though he was unlikely
to attack or even hurt him the prospect of violence made Pixies
eternally nervous. Zyre felt the burn of anger get hold of her—he
dared scorn her when she came to help—a demon that reeked of
whoring.

“Is this Martyc
friendship—no wonder she chases after bandits, tis better choice
than Martyc Xatn!” a furious Elf scoffed.

His eyes became
dark with a fury that made even her pause, and when he spoke—it was
with all the authority and strength of one who ruled.

“The past
decisions of the Martyc Empire don’t concern an Elf too busy
stealing to understand politics.”

Zyre could feel
the entire room tense as she faced the being she had come to warn,
yet somehow they had wandered off into a war of personal
recriminations. It finally came to the single moment of decision
that Elves spent their entire lives avoiding. She had to choose
either to ignore demon stupidity or leave him to his well deserved
fate. Then again, she could blast him with the Salvae and reduce
them both to ashes and she pondered the utter ignorance of this
male while wondering why she was bothering to rescue him. She gazed
into him and saw that despite his words he was struggling with the
complexity of this world. It was seeing his battle that had her
relent and she put her hands on the desk to lean forward, her eyes
now a clear emerald as she tried to communicate her concern.
Despite her intent some sarcasm slipped through because he was such
hard work making her use the big explanations demons and humans
always needed.

“Lord Dhaigre,
master of all, prince of the Empire might like to know this
particular Martyc was speaking to the almost Aunsin.”

“A Watcher can
speak to a Vampire as it is not unheard of in this world.”

His refusal to
take her seriously didn’t help her temper. “I saw him speak to
Martyc, before I went to Veraign, before the Auction even
happened.”

Finally able to
decipher what she was trying to explain he asked, “Zyre, tell me
exactly what you know.”

She sat down on
the corner of his desk and was about to offer up Beb for
explanation, but one look at his diagonal slump down the wall
changed her mind.

“I was sorting
about, doing nothing.”

The Martyc went
to speak except the sudden merge of colours within her kaleidoscope
eyes rendered him wisely silent.

“Then I saw the
Galt speaking to someone, but I paid no mind until later because of
purple—“

“Purple?” the
confused demon queried.

“Yes purple and
then I remember the one he spoke to be Martyc—.”

“Taryst
Janeb?”

The Elf shook
her head, and the sudden caution of Vryn sent pricks of alarm
across her.

“This be no
woman this be man before Myruj was known.”

The Xatn
flashed a hard look at his Druqe and the atmosphere told Zyre that
he finally understood the importance of what she was trying to tell
him.

Once certain of
his attention she continued. “The Goblin was the messenger between
Vampire, hidden Martyc, Taryst Martyc, and she has the
scourge—Raiders.”

The Martyc
replied, “She often works with Raiders. That is nothing new
everyone pretty much knows this.”

“The Goblin was
not messenger off world—he was messenger here.”

Vryn shifted at
the information. “You mean Taryst is already on world with Raiders?
I have been through this already and there is no place for her to
hide. No one has this authority.

As the thought
creased her mind, her eyes flew to his. “Martycs do.”

Vryn became
still as he murmured, “The risk is too great...far too great.”

When his master
darkened from the thought of another Martyc renegade Afir quickly
interjected.

“How do we know
any of this has meaning? Goblins are known as purveyors of deceit
and their entire lives are based on lies.”

Zyre didn’t
know how to explain to the demon how the Pixie worked and while she
understood their reluctance to put credence to her warning the
dispute of the Druqe gave her the urge to blast him into the other
room.

“The pixilate
gives thoughts, some true some lies, the lies have
no...hmmm....”

She searched
for the word, “...substance, they are not at a time at a place.
Actions are clear, this place, this time—they appear to Pixie like
real.”

The Druqe shook
his head. “Reality for a drunken Pixie is a fairly subjective
matter. There is no way to know what lies have merged into once
mixed with gin and the inability of the Goblin to tell truth.”

Zyre stumbled
for words. “Tis different—it is—.”

This time Beb
interrupted her with one of his rare lucid moments to speak with
human-like precision. “Tis simple; the lies of the Goblin are not
rock—even if he believes in them. As we become one lies have many
paths, but truth is always one path.”

She wasn’t sure
of the logic behind the statement for the golden warmth radiating
from Vryn had distracted her. Once she had changed her proximity to
sit on the edge of the desk the dynamic between them became charged
with the desire he was struggling to control. He could lust all he
wished because she wasn’t going to show interest in overtures from
one perfumed with the stink from brothels and the storm of her eyes
kept him at bay.

Beb continued
and this time used the more detailed explanation demons
required.

“Zyre has been
trying to tell you that your timeline of Martycs is wrong because
one was here a long time ago—long before you knew.”

Vryn watched an
exhausted Pixie slide to the floor while clutching the half empty
bottle. He had done his job, the message expelled, so now the
information could be lost from his mind and return to the universe.
In possession of the information and chained by her obvious
disapproval the Xatn fell back into his only avenue of power—the
rhetoric of the Empire. He nodded towards his assistant and it was
a mistake the moment the words left his Druqe, but he was after
all—a demon.

“The Xatn of
the human realm of the Martyc Empire wishes to extend invitation to
Elfzyre of the magical nation.”

Beb fluttered
in terror, his movements caused the Druqe to step back once again
and Zyre couldn’t help but smile at the stupidity of demons.
Admittedly, an invitation from the Empire was in essence a demand,
but just because she didn't have a safe world to run to didn't mean
she would pay him mind. Then again, she was an Elf, there was a
Vampire Ball, she had a pretty dress waiting for her and he had
been whoring. Her eyes flooded with green, but this was not borne
of mischief and Vryn would know the answer before she spoke.

“Not interested
in blah, blah, blah,” she tormented. “I am wanting to dance with
Vampires.”

She walked over
to the Pixie who stopped fluttering long enough to watch her glare
at the Martyc. The demon could barely contain his emotions and
looked down at his desk to hide the brief flash of his own
jealousy. It was for only a second, but for an Elf that was all she
ever needed.

Zyre and Beb
reappeared several roofs over from the fortress to sit behind a
huge sign bolted to the top of a building. The Pixie hiccupped
while he clutched the gin as if it was his lifeline to sanity,
which it was. The day was now in full swing and she enjoyed the
warmth of the sun as birds flowed across the sky singing to each
other. The jarring screech of traffic merged with the hum of wires
for this was the buzz of life within the human realm. She sat down
and considered the latest turn of affairs, the Martyc—if he could
keep his mind on the job—would soon be assaulted from all sides.
She had done her bit, Beb was frazzled from doing his, and there
was little else to do but enjoy the dance. Only an Elf could
disregard the potential of a world falling apart to go to a Ball,
but then again this wasn’t of her concern. It wasn't her fault if
he chose to act dumb as a Gnome. There was also the emotion she had
been suppressing, the one she refused to face when he wandered in
stinking of woman, the tips of jealousy she fought to submerge back
into Elf indifference.

She turned to
the unhappy Pixie. “Come on, is time to get you home.”

“What about
juniper?”

She had
forgotten the deal about the pixilation and she searched the area
for the smell of spirits. Finding a closed club she dissolved them
to the roof while ever wary of the watching eyes of daylight.
Leaving Beb alone she entered the basement to steal a case of gin
as she had no time and no inclination to investigate the impact of
her theft. She moved Beb near the doorway to the Reveal and the
guards, Varkja and Gargoyle, would be little problem to the Pixie
now drunk enough to deal with life on any world. She gave the
being, who was now her friend, the grin of an unrepentant Elf but
he didn’t immediately leave. Instead the Pixie gave her a leer that
could have been a smile or gas—she was never too sure which.

“Maybe I stay
to help, his stinky make Zyre shouty and there be too many demons
here.”

She paused as
Beb had seen through her emotion, so there was no point in lying
about her anger. She was also touched by the courage of his offer
because she knew this world with the industrial cacophony of noise
and stink was impossible for him. His attempt to comfort gave back
her impudence and the Elf grinned at her friend.

“Beb,” she
said, “I be good—am going to Vampire party!”

The Pixie
scowled for he was not as drunk or dumb as his world had decided.
“There be trouble here the Xatn and you together not good. He makes
you spiky!”

The mention of
Dhaigre had her frown because he was not going to be her problem at
least not once all the rumour of Raiders was put to rest.

“Martyc and Elf
are never good together, lucky I be smart Elf and he be....”

She gave her
friend one last cheeky beam before fading into the glitter of the
sun.

Zyre returned
to a Veraign that was quiet, except for the almost silent movements
of the Zhismi as they organised the household. Finding the cat, as
usual, in the best spot in the garden she settled down for a needed
nap and her last thoughts were of the unsuspected friendship of the
Pixie Beb.

Several hours
later her young Zhismi friend woke her and they shared a welcome
orange while his people ran about meeting the querulous demands of
excitement bordering upon hysteria. The boy gave the cat the rough
stroke of childish affection and she submitted to the handling with
only the annoyed twitch of her tail revealing her true opinion of
children. The sky was lost in the pink of another sunset and Zyre
noticed how quickly the days passed when having to rush about after
demons, Vampires and Pixies. Voices called to the boy and he ran
off for his bed while the Elf stretched in the luxury of silence
before dissolving back to the room allocated to her.

The dress was
hanging where she left it and she considered the information she
had obtained from the Goblin. It was one thing to act unconcerned
in front of Vryn, he half expected it from her, but there was a
whole bunch of unsuspecting Vampires about to enjoy the misdeeds of
the Nefarious One. Though she felt no responsibility for the acts
of the Goblin Zyre briefly wondered if she should bother to inform
them of what may come. She decided it was up to Vryn because he was
always pulling the princely act, so he could shoulder the
responsibility for neurotic Vampires. Moving into the en-suite
bathroom she played with the taps until a jet of water streamed
out, and without undressing she stood under the cold deluge until
she decided that rain was a far nicer way to bathe.

The pace
downstairs picked up until all that could be heard were frantic
orders given to harried humans as they dashed about attempting to
please creatures that wanted the impossible. She stayed on the
balcony watching the empty garden while everyone was preoccupied
indoors and once dry she got into a dress free of the smell of
demons. Without realising she was making an entrance Zyre did just
that, as she stood at the top of the stairs while jittery Vampires
filled the foyer. They couldn’t help but turn towards the warmth
cascading down to them and watched the ethereal vision descend. Her
copper hair dazzled under the artificial light as silken strands
brushed her shoulders while the kaleidoscope of her eyes merged
into the turquoise of her gown. The crowd parted and she found
herself before Estienne who despite his status, age, and power,
couldn’t hide the desire she invoked.