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"Are you going to tell me anything?" Bieja interrupted.
Before Leesil could stall her further, Wynn continued. "But where is
Magiere?"
"She went to visit her mother's grave, " he answered.
"Now... in the dark, after holding that skull... after all of what we found?"
Wynn looked away in puzzlement, lips moving as she mouthed something to
herself. She turned back to Leesil. "No, she would not.... Do not let her "
"Valhachkasej'a!"Leesil cursed, and he was off the bench and heading for the
door.
Aunt Bieja shouted from behind him, but he was already out into the night and
running for the graveyard.
In the keep's sacrificial chamber, Magiere's actions had terrified him more
than what they'd found. She was obsessed with finding her undead sire and had
tried to reach back to relive the slaughter.
The moment she'd stared into the skull's empty sockets was shadow and dust
compared with what he feared she did now in the graveyard.
A male voice screamed from somewhere ahead in the dark.
Leesil leaped and dodged through the grave markers of the first clearing as
another voice cried out. Two more clearings, and he still couldn't find
Magiere. He heard a snarl from nearby, and he stumbled, trying to pick out its
direction.
He followed it into the next clearing, and what he saw brought him no relief.
Magiere grappled with a tall man at the clearing's far side. Her falchion was
missing. Even in the dark, Leesil saw her mouth forced wide by teeth like a
wolf's. The two struggled for control of a thick-ended staff, until Magiere
wrenched it sideways, pulling herself closer to her opponent.
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Her head twisted, and she bit into the man's shoulder.
Leesil sucked in cold air. He drew one of his blades as he closed on the two
and slammed full speed into both of them.
The impact sent all of them sprawling, and Leesil tumbled up against a tree.
His scarf had fallen off, and he stripped his cloak, as well. When he rolled
to his feet, Magiere was facedown to his left across two broken markers, and
then he spotted the body.
Pitchfork across his limp hand, a man lay still where he'd fallen, eyes
closed, mouth slack. Leesil looked at Magiere.
She rolled to a crouch. The saliva running from the corners of her mouth was
darkened from stains on her lips and teeth. Her eyes were wide with irises
full black, and her face was wrinkled in a snarl. She didn't even look at him
and glared back at her opponent. When he arose, Leesil recognized him.
Adryan, half-scarred and half-mad, stood with his eyes locked on Magiere.
Magiere had succumbed to rage, slipping deep into her dhampir half. In such a
state, Leesil feared she wouldn't stop until Adryan was dead. What could there
be between these two that had kept this kind of hatred alive for so long?
Adryan swung the staff high, bringing it down toward Magiere's head, and she
made straight for him, lunging to her feet from all fours. If Adryan missed,
Magiere would tear him apart, and if he didn't...
The staff's end came down, and Magiere swerved around it without breaking
stride.
Leesil leaped in to cut her off. His left foot landed upon the slant of
Adryan's grounded staff, and he kicked out with his right into Magiere's
shoulder. She tumbled away, and he stomped down with his full weight upon the
staff. It snapped, and Adryan stumbled back with the splintered half in his
hands.
Leesil stood with both feet planted, the staff's heavy end trapped beneath
one foot. It felt thick, and he glanced down to see its iron-shod end.
In his youth, he'd seen shorter, single-handed versions used by Lord
Dartmouth's mounted riders to disperse crowds. Whoever didn't fall beneath the
horses' hooves had their heads split open by those swinging iron-shod clubs.
Adryan had come here to kill Magiere.
Leesil stepped toward him, lifting his one blade.
"Get gone, " he rasped out. "If you want to live. "
Adryan stood there a moment, claw marks on his face, his shirt and vest
shredded and stained with his own blood. Leesil saw the remnants of a strange
hope in his eyes, and then it faded as the broken staff dropped from his grip.
He put his hands to his head, turned, and fled into the trees.
Leesil turned toward Magiere and remained perfectly still. She clawed wet
earth to pull her feet under herself and get up.
"Magiere... come back, " he whispered.
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Face soiled from the ground, her head jerked around at the sound of his
voice.
Black irises fixed upon Leesil. There was blood on her mouth, in her teeth.
Her hands were stained, as well, and her fingers were hooked, ready to grab
for him. Beneath the blood, her nails appeared extended beyond her fingertips.
Leesil knew she didn't see him. Not him... just some thing in a predator's
path.
"Please, " he said softly. "Come back to me. "
Ever so slowly, he crouched downward, reaching with his free hand for the
shod end of the broken staff.
"Magiere... Magiere, " he whispered over and over.
With hands outstretched toward him, she froze there, and Leesil stopped, too.
The creases of her snarl faded from around her eyes. Her mouth closed until
only her long canines were visible between parted lips. She looked down with
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