The Homunculus Knight

"Taking the mantle of kingship should never be easy. It must always come with a price, one that winnows away unworthy claimants. The old kings knew that well, that's why they were buried among the oaks. If you were to rule in life, then you needed to be willing to serve in death; that was their rule. To forgo any reward or rest offered by the Pantheon and instead join their forefather's in the roots, becoming one with the grove." - Wisdom of Treespeaker Ozef.

"Forgive me for underestimating you, Sir Paladin," muttered Priestess Molli as she stared down at the two fanged skulls and torpor-bound vampire laid out on the damp sand before her.

Leaning against his halberd, a heavy scowl on his face, Cole replied. "I'd prefer some answers over your apologies."

While the fight with the three vampires had gone as well as one could hope, Cole was still wary of the riverbarge and its occupants. Especially since they'd not raised steel or spell in his group's aid; that sort of behavior wasn't expected from followers of Misbegotten War, even ones left shaken and isolated by repeated defeats. Something more was going on here; Cole didn't need his divinely aided intuition to tell that much.

Squatting down, Molli examined the captured vampire, noting its severed arms and staked heart. "We lost too many good people to these leeches. Thank you." Pausing, the priestess glanced back at the barge. "I'll start with Acolyte Lyander then."

"Four nights ago, we were attacked by a trio of centennial vampires. They bypassed much of our original defenses and inflicted severe casualties on us before the dawn forced them to retreat. Knowing they would return, I decided to send Lyander to make contact with any potential nearby allies. Despite being an acolyte, he is-" The priestess hesitated and then corrected herself with a ragged sigh. "Was, a prodigy with endurance enchantments. I'd personally witnessed him run for two days and nights without rest, and hoped that stamina would be enough to get him well past the enemy."

This made a little more sense, but Cole wasn't satisfied. "How long were you here before the attacks started? Also, why only Lyander? Surely a squad would have better odds over a single acolyte, no matter how talented."

"We retreated from Crowbend three weeks ago and entrenched here two days after that. Till the leeches attacked, we'd been managing well enough via scavenging and staying subtle. As for why only him? A couple of reasons, but the most pertinent being practicality. The enemy can not be allowed to take this position, so every sword arm was needed. Besides, a lone soldier was less likely to pull the leeches' attention, especially when we were keeping them distracted with a fake breakout attempt."

"Well, that makes some sense, 'cept for one thing," grumbled Alia as she hobbled her way into the conversation. "Why were you staying here in the first place? Seems strange to squat in this wreck like a clan of beacon breakers, instead of doing… anything else, honestly."

Molli looked between the city warden, paladin, priestess, and then at Yara, who hung back a little from the group. "Tell me, who is this ally you rescued?"

The thrall was still clutching the captured vampire's rapier, having not changed her stance or expression since the fight's end. Surprised as Cole had been with Yara's accomplishments, his shock didn't seem to hold a candle to her own. She'd staked a vampire, an impressive feat to most, a deep sacrilege to someone as mentally shackled as her. Hopefully, when Natalie arrived, she could coax her undesired servant back to something resembling normalcy.

Smirking, Alia hooked a thumb the thrall's way. "That is Yara, she's our scout and the one who bagged the leech. After I'd taken one of its arms off, mind you, but still, damn good work."

"She's also a vampire thrall," replied Molli. "I can tell just by looking at her."

Eyes scanning the surrounding wilds, the priestess added. "If I'd had to guess, your paramour is somewhere about, Sir Paladin. Is that right?"

Exchanging a look with Mina, Cole decided there was no point in duplicity. "She and the rest of my group should be here soon. Those wraith wolves you encountered earlier are hers. That's how we found you."

"Makes sense, they didn't match anything else we'd seen the leeches use," muttered Molli before adding. "As for why we're still here? Our original mission isn't done, in fact, it's gotten a hells of a lot more important."

Cole frowned at that. Original mission? What did that-

Understanding jolted through the paladin. Pankrator Marcus's force had been more than just a diversion for the stone; they'd been sent to Harmas to prevent anything from breaching the quarantine. While the original river fleet may have failed that task, this collection of survivors was still following those orders, and not out of automaton-like obedience.

"You're stopping more of the corpse-tide from escaping," whispered Cole. "You've found a way to keep the city sealed.

To his surprise, the war priestess laughed bitterly. "Oh, if it were only that impressive. No, the ice bridge the tide marched across is long gone; the rest of the ghouls are trapped with or without us. We aren't guarding against anything getting out; we're stopping anything else from getting in. Which I reckon is why you and yours found us, as I'm assuming your mission requires entering Harmas?"

A long breath escaped Cole, and he nodded. "Coincidence is their domain."

Molli offered a grim smile. "It is indeed; now shall we start planning how to-"

The war priestess trailed off as something caught her eye. She started to shout a warning just as a shadowy blur exploded out of the underbrush. Landing on the riverbank, the blur slid nearly half a meter, digging an impressive furrow in the sand before coming to a halt, revealing itself to be a very anxious Natalie Striga.

Shortsword in hand, Natalie whirled about, checking to see that everyone was alive and intact. Ignoring the cries of alarm issuing from the river barge, the young vampire wrapped her arms around a surprised Cole and let out a deep, relieved breath. "Oh, thank the Pantheon."

Quick as she'd embraced him, Natalie let go of the paladin and approached Yara. Standing stiff as stone, the thrall radiated tension like a forge did heat. Something about her stance itched at Cole's mind, plucking at old memories of broken people and brutal masters.

Reaching out, Natalie gently hugged Yara and asked. "What's wrong? Are you hurt? Did they do something to you?"

This was not what the thrall had been expecting, and her eyes widened in shock before welling with tears. Something between a sob and an apology bubbled between her lips, and Natalie hugged her close. Glancing back at Cole, she said. "I got Yara's message, but she didn't respond to any of mine. I knew from our link she was alive, but… but not much else."

"We were attacked by three vampires. I killed two with your wolves' help. Yara, Mina, and Alia capture the third."

That got a scoff from the city warden. "More like we got our hides tanned by the leech until, Matchstick here staked 'em."

Yara flinched like she'd been slapped, something that didn't go unnoticed by Natalie. Placing both hands gently on the frightened woman's shoulders, the vampire spoke softly, in tones usually reserved for skittish horses. "You kept yourself alive and helped our friends; you did good."

The tension visibly drained from the thrall, and in a mouse-like whisper, she asked. "I did?"

Natalie nodded and hugged her again. "Yes, you did."

As Yara relaxed into the embrace, Natalie looked to the surprised war priestess and complement of soldiers. "Hi. Sorry to startle all of you."

Cole hid a smile at the befuddled looks exchanged among the calming garrison; leave it to his lover to disarm a group of nervous soldiers with a single sentence. Heading towards the riverbank, he addressed Molli. "I'm going to signal the rest of my group, that's fine by you?"

Still giving the newly introduced Alukah a sidelong glance, the priestess nodded. "Who else can we expect?"

Cole stepped among the reeds and held up his amulet, summoning ten flashes of silver light.

"A sun priestess, a werewolf mercenary, and a magi."

"Interesting compliment, anything else I should…" Molli trailed off as four flares of golden magic cut the night with slices of dawn.

Mina, of all people, bit down a snort of laughter. "Seems to me, the living saint has some lessons to learn about subtly."

Ironically, or not so ironically, depending on how you look at it, one of Natalie's greatest pet peeves was obsequiousness. A life in the Duchies and an unlife as Annoch's heir had ingrained a deep discomfort in her whenever someone simpered and fawned over their so-called betters. So watching the stalwart survivors of the river fleet fall over themselves to greet Sera Deborah had the young Alukah feeling a little on edge.

Arms crossed over her chest, leaning against the beached barge, Natalie tried to keep her expression neutral as a pair of soldiers broke down sobbing before the Seraphilim, having been overawed by such a beacon of sanctity amidst all this rot and ruin. Lip twitching slightly as Deborah offered the pair a benediction, the vampire turned away. Part of her sneered at such servile behavior, while another, much more concerning part, envied the adoration offered to the living saint.

Letting out a tired sigh, Natalie found her eyes wandering towards Yara, who stood a little ways away, being tutored by Alia on how to hold a rapier properly. In the near hour it took Deborah's half of the group to reach them, Natalie finished easing her thrall out of a state of shock. It had been harrowing, seeing how deep the dogma of the Duchies sank into Yara. She thought of fighting back against a vampire as some grave sin somewhere between blasphemy and fratricide.

"Thank you for your help earlier."

Starting slightly, Natalie realized Cole had come up behind her, having finished whatever talk he'd been having with Priestess Molli. "I don't know if I could have won without your wolves."

Smiling up at her lover, glad to have something else to focus on, she replied. "Controlling them from so far away with any precision is tricky, so I'm glad it worked as well as it did."

"I'm sorry for leaving you behind. I know catching up to us must have been stressful, but I needed to be certain this wasn't a trap."

Looking up at the boat she leaned against, Natalie asked. "And you are certain?"

Cole nodded. "Most of my worries have been put to rest."

"But not all of them."

It was Cole's turn to stare at Yara now. "The timing of the vampires' arrival is worrying. We need to find out why the enemy is here, and how much they know."

Natalie licked a fang nervously. Ever since she'd learned of the prisoner, an idea had been percolating inside her. "I might be able to find out, through mind magic."

Cole looked away from her, his jaw tense. "That's… an option."

An awkward pause stretched between them as both dwelt on unpleasant memories. Breaking the silence, Natalie spoke softly. "The geas is still infesting nobody knows how many people. If I'm going to stand a chance at ferreting it out, I need to grow my skills. This seems as good a way as any."

Rubbing his brow, Cole sighed. "You're right. Let's head aboard, maybe Hierophant Dala will have some advice for you."

Nodding, Natalie, and her partner climbed the makeshift stairs providing access to the barge proper. Once onboard, she noted the reverie around Deborah was finally dying down. "I really didn't like being stuck with her."

"Her light still bothers you?" replied Cole as he opened up a reinforced deck hatch.

Following him down a ladder turned into stairs by the boat's beaching, she shrugged. "Yes, but it's more than that; I find her watching me when she thinks I'm not paying attention. I swear she's sizing up the amount of sunlight she'd need to kill me."

That got Cole to pause for a moment. "That might be the case."

"Lovely, good to know the rest of the Pantheon doesn't share Master Time's faith in me."

"Although… it could be a little more complicated as well. Annoch's blood reacts badly to Deborah's power, as it remembers nearly being destroyed by her predecessor. So who's to say her angelic half doesn't respond similarly to your presence?" mused Cole.

Natalie paused, one hand balancing her against a tilted wall. "Y'know, I hadn't considered that. I wonder if Deborah knows anything more about Annoch? Maybe she's inherited memories of fighting him or something?"

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

It was Cole's turn to hesitate now. "Most likely, but I doubt she'll share it with you."

As the couple reached the bottom deck of the barge, Natalie let out a bitter sigh. "I should have expected as much. She wouldn't want me learning what did and didn't work against the Seraphilim the first time."

Taking another corner, they passed through an open hatch, arriving in what was once a cargo hold. Stripped bare of crates and equipment, the hold was now filled with ritual paraphernalia. The floor was covered in a complex pattern of whirling indigo sigils. Where the twisting symbols intersected, small metal discs had been inlaid into the deck, giving the impression of a sequin-flecked dress. Dangling from the ceiling were rows of prayer cards that clattered against each other constantly in a gentle rhythm. At the hold's center was an altar, its surface painted with more recognizable religious symbols like the ten-pointed star and Aunt Seeress's eye. Leaning over the altar was a woman who was also recognizable, if only barely.

Hierophant Dala looked to have aged a decade in a month. Wrinkles born of stress warred with those sired by weight loss, giving the priestess a worn, empty look. She was still clad in a series of purple and blue shawls, but most were frayed at the edges. In fact, frayed at the edges was generally the best way to describe Dala. Escaping the battle for Crowbend and then hiding this single surviving vessel, along with whatever it discovered, had been more than she could shoulder, but she'd done it anyway.

Greeting them with a tired smile, Dala spread her hands wide. "Ah, it's good to see such friendly and familiar faces after so long."

Cole offered a bow to the older woman, "I feel the same, Hierophant. When I heard about the battle for Crowbend, I feared the worst. So it pleases me to see so many survivors."

Her smile faltered. "Much was lost, but not all. Every day I try to follow your god's wisdom, and focus on what grains of sand I could catch, not those that slipped through my grasp."

"A bitter truth, but a truth nonetheless," replied Cole.

Recovering herself slightly, the Hierophant said. "Yes, but not why you are here. The Pantheon has woven together many strings to allow this moment; we best not keep them waiting."

Moving over towards a nexus point in the room's painted pattern, Dala whispered an incantation, and her breath came out as a haze of iridescent purple that settled on the deck, making the air shimmer and warp, revealing another hatch, this one recently reinforced by the look of things. Deft fingers and magic passwords soon opened the portal, revealing the barge's bilge and what now dwelt within it.

In place of the damp, moldy hole that one might expect, the bilge seemed a veritable garden. At the center of the compartment was a huge, gnarled wooden spike piercing through the vessel's hull like a rose thorn through skin. Thick vegetation spilled out from around this puncture, covering every surface in the bilge with ivy, moss, ferns, and even some small flowers, leaving only the misshapen spike clear of growth. Instead, heavy chains, interlaced with prayer ribbons, were wrapped about the spike. Attached to reinforced, rune-marked mounts near the hatch's entrance, the chains formed both a collar and ritual focus binding the strange wooden object tightly.

As the couple stared down into the bilge, Dala said. "This is why we are here, both in a broad and precise sense."

"Meaning?" asked Cole.

"We didn't run aground," said Dala, her voice quiet and tense. "We were speared and hauled ashore by this."

Natalie exchanged confused looks with her lover before voicing the obvious question. "What is it?"

"It's a root, one being manipulated by one of Harmas's great spirits; Oaken-Brother-Of-Kings, tutelar of the Almgrove, burial site of the city's rulers, to be precise."

At Dala's words, the root started to shift, pulling against the chains binding it. Springing into action, the Hierophant held out her hands and spoke words of power. A cloud of violet vapor flowed from her and swirled about the struggling spike, coalescing along the prayer ribbons like glowing morning dew, lulling the spike back into tranquility.

Slumping forward, Dala almost toppled, but Cole caught her. Panting, breath flavored by arcane sparks, she managed to regain her footing after a moment. "Thank you, keeping Oaken Brother's incarnation sedated is proving more and more difficult."

With Cole's aid, the Hierophant shut the hatch and then sat down next to it, her shoulders slumped with effort. Staring at the now bolted portal, the paladin said. "If that root is from the Almgrove, then does that mean it dug its way under the river to reach us here?"

Dala nodded. "Tree spirits are legendarily persistent. Below us is a direct physical link to the inside of the Harmas, and the best option anyone has to get past the river spirit's quarantine."

"I'm assuming, by a better way than crawling through the tunnel it dug?" asked Natalie, a note of worry in her voice. They'd just gotten out from beneath the Alidonar Mountains, and she had no desire to go below the Alidonar River.

"Oh yes. See, the spirit of the river has been commanded to seal off the city by the ruler of Harmas, and will only let someone pass with royal consent."

A noise of understanding escaped Cole. "The Almtree, the Almgrove, they hold echoes of all the past rulers. The spirit can give us permission to cross the river."

Natalie got the sense this was the magical equivalent of a barrister squinting very hard at a contract to try and arrange a certain outcome. Not a very comforting thought, with so much on the line, nor were all the questions this revelation spurred. "Well, if that's the case, then why are you keeping the spirit locked up in your bilge? In fact, why haven't people used this to evacuate? If we can figure it out, then those inside the city must have? Actually, how did you figure this out?"

The Hierophant wrapped her knuckles against the hatch. "Because Oaken Brother is at war with himself. Something has damaged the spirit, rendering him not just unstable but extremely dangerous. He sought us out in hopes of being helped, and then tried to kill us repeatedly."

Gesturing to the room around them, she explained. "Hence, this array, it helps me disguise our barge here and keep the spirit contained, as you saw."

"So that's why you can't leave," said Cole. "Someone needs to guard the spirit, to make sure it doesn't invite the wrong people across the water."

"It was even more than that, until recently, we had a chance to maybe heal the spirit," replied Dala before looking at Natalie. "This connects to your last question. Three shamans were originally among our number. They uncovered most of this and were making progress aiding Oaken Brother, but were lost when the enemy attacked."

Cole and Natalie exchanged looks, losing all three shamans seemed extraordinarily bad luck. Speaking for both of them, the paladin said. "The vampires targeted them."

That got Dala to pause. "I actually hadn't considered that, but in retrospect it's obvious, even if it raises even more questions."

Questions, Natalie might be able to get answers to, especially if she had the right kind of help. "Hierophant Dala, I know you're a master illusionist, but what do you know about mind magic?"

Cocking her head to the side, Dala replied. "It is a cousin art to illusions, and I'm more than adept, especially when it comes to sensory memories and the like. Why do you ask?"

"The captured vampire, I think the two of us might be able to get some answers from her."

A pensive look spread across the Hierophant's face. "You wish to delve into its mind. An interesting strategy, but not one I can help you with."

"Why not?' asked Natalie.

"Keeping the spells I've woven into this vessel active is taking nearly all my magical power. I simply don't have the strength to safely venture into a mature vampire's mindscape."

Glancing around at the complex array covering the room, Natalie morbidly wondered if Morri wouldn't be the only Anchorite born out of all this. "Okay, well, do you have any advice, then?"

Expression becoming more somber, Dala said. "Don't attempt this. The Duchy nobility are infamous for attacking each other psychically. Your prisoner will have countermeasures inside their mindscape; dangerous mental traps, and subtle misdirections, meant to ward off masters of the psychic arts. Without proper support or preparation, what you suggest doing will be extraordinarily difficult, and I'd fear for your safety."

Natalie frowned. "I've attacked another vampire's mind before, and managed it without any problems."

"Attacking and infiltrating are two very different things. Think about it this way: which is harder, setting a castle alight, or robbing its treasury of a single specific gold coin?"

This made an annoying amount of sense, especially considering how Baron Sicar had fantastically underestimated her during their clash. Suddenly, Natalie's idea felt idiotic. She was growing stronger, true, but power and skill, like most things, were relative. This was too big of a risk, especially considering her own mental cracks. If they were going to learn anything from the prisoner, they'd need to approach this… differently.

"There's another way to get the coin," she muttered, as a very jagged idea stirred in her mind. "Extortion."

Dala and Cole both looked at her with concern. Unwilling to meet either of their gazes, Natalie stared at her hands, thinking of the claws they so often became. "A castle will surrender its treasure if that's the only way to survive."

"We can't spare the prisoner," replied Cole.

Wishing she could still fidget with her hairpin, Natalie paused to pick her words carefully. "I know, but there are worse fates than death, ones even a vampire will fear."

Expression hardening, her lover half-growled, "Torture doesn't work, believe me, I know."

Natalie shook her head slightly. "Not torture, a fate worse than death."

Meeting Cole's eyes, she meaningly exposed her fangs, showing their long serpentine points. Leaning back slightly, he considered this and then nodded. "In my experience, little scares monsters more than the possibility of experiencing the evil they've inflicted."

Glancing between them, Dala asked. "You have a way to threaten this vampire into telling the truth?"

Natalie offered a bitter smile. "Probably. But even if it doesn't work, I can get what we want by just following through on my threat."

Deciding she didn't want to know more, the Hierophant changed topics. "If you are to get into Harmas, then cleansing the Oaken Brother is key. A task I think your group might be able to help with."

Cole made a noise of agreement. "That makes sense. Sera Deborah's qualifications are evident, and Adept Kithar's skills continue to surprise. In the meantime, the pair of us will deal with the prisoner, perhaps she knows something about the spirit's condition."

"That seems the best course we can take." Dala paused then and looked at Natalie. "Fear is a very powerful thing and not wielded easily. Take my word as a master illusionist when I say, you need to be careful in how you walk this path."

Lips pressed together, Natalie replied. "I'm well aware."

The couple left after that, a heavy silence weighing on them as they reached the deck. Morning wasn't far away, and with the night's excitement finished, the barge's occupants were trying to get what little rest they could. Speaking of, their group had pitched camp in the beached vessel's shadow, and judging by the stream of pipesmoke wafting up to them, Grettir was on watch.

Pausing by the deck's edge, Cole finally spoke. "So, where do we start?"

Staring out at the slowly lightening sky, Natalie replied. "First, we wait for dawn."

Chevaleresse Cielago Delano, Moroi of the Guajona lineage and sworn blade to Count Arnald Guajona, opened her eyes as blood filled her mouth. Drinking down the lukewarm ichor, she fought back a scream as her reanimating body became reacquainted with all the damage she'd suffered. Both her arms were missing, and there was a barely sealed hole in her chest. As pain gave way to confusion, Cielago tried to remember how she'd suffered such injuries. There had been a fight, a clash with a priestess and paragon, she'd been winning and then… and then… she'd been staked. By who, and how, she had no idea, but if she still existed, then that meant one thing.

Shutting her eyes, swallowing the last of the blood, the vampire marshalled her pride and voice to say. "Faiyum, Diego, I acknowledge this debt between us."

There was no response, no rumble of annoyance from the large Strigoi, or mocking comment from her cousin. This surprised her enough to realize there was another pain racking her, one deeper and more subtle than the physical agonies she'd suffered. It was an itchy lethargy, a constant unpleasantness that rubbed against her soul, draining away what little power she had drop by drop. She was awake during the day.

Frantically, Cielago tried to sit up, forcing damaged core muscles to work, and only managing to jerk her head up enough to see she was inside a ship, a lopsided ship.

A voice, deep and clear, as the coldest mountain springs cut through the air and into the vampire. "Your friends are dead. Their debt of stolen time is settled."

This time, Cielago got herself propped up enough to see the room's other occupant. Standing near a bolted door was a giant of a man, easily as tall as Faiyum had been, and just as scarred. But where her colleague's marks had been things of honor and prestige, these were signs of torture and grievous injury. A faint cloud of icy vapor wafted off the scarred man, and his eyes shone with a silver-blue every battle-tested vampire knew to fear.

"The Paladin," she whispered, as jumbled memories of the battle forced themselves to the fore. Dread colder than the frost billowing off the god-touched killer filled Cielago, threatening to freeze what little blood she had left. She'd heard rumors over the past few months of the Tenth God unleashing one of his agents in these parts, but Cielago never gave them much credit, as there had been no sign of any paladin when she'd fought against the Elector-Prince's host.

Red eyes fixed on the pantheon-marked monster before her, Cielago asked. "Why am I alive?"

Another voice, this one female and flavored by Zaubervald accent, answered. "We'd like you to tell us some things."

Cielago had been so overwhelmed by the paladin she'd not even noticed the room's other occupant until now. An impressive feat, considering the new speaker was a strikingly attractive woman and a vampire.

Staring at the unknown noble, Cielago managed to find her words. "Who are you?"

"I'm Natalie. But that's not important for this conversation."

Natalie. That was the name of the mystery thrall's owner. That answered some questions and spawned dozens more. "Then what is important?"

"Why you were attacking the river barge, among other things."

They wanted information, which was good as it gave Cielago leverage. At least that much of this bizarre situation made sense.

"And what do I get in exchange for telling you this?"

Gesturing at the paladin, Natalie said. "Cole here, kills you. Quickly, cleanly, releasing your soul to face judgement in the Beyond."

Was… was this stray vampire mad? That might explain why she was serving one of Death's own executioners. It also meant Cielago would need to be extra careful. "Forgive me, but that doesn't seem like a good incentive."

Natalie walked over to the nearest wall, speaking as she did. "It is, when compared to the alternative."

Reaching up to a shut porthole, the mad stray casually opened it, letting a beam of fiery death enter the compartment. Cielago screamed as the line of sunlight cut its way across the floor, bisecting the room, but thankfully not touching her.

Nodding to herself, Natalie looked at the shaft of sunlight with faint bemusement, as if it weren't a few degrees off from filling this entire space with their kind's greatest bane. That settled it, this woman was utterly mad, and probably suicidal.

But as the initial terror of the sun wore off, another, more cloying dread took its place. This was how they were going to torture her, the threat of burning. Speaking quickly, knowing every word might decide her fate, Cielago said. "I can tell you whatever you want to know, but not if I'm driven mad by pain!"

Looking at the sunbeam, watching motes of dust dance like the embers she'd become if she got too close, Natalie said. "We're not going to torture you."

Even more confused, Cielago asked. "You're not?"

Shaking her head, Nataie replied. "No point. You'll either tell us now and reenter the cycle of reincarnation, or you tell me later after I've consumed you."

Then, casually, the stray vampire stepped into the sunlight, letting its golden fire envelope her and… and do nothing. Cielago stared, unable to believe her eyes. "This… this is a trick, the illusionist on the boat, their work!"

Stepping out of the sunlight, Natalie approached the wounded Chevaleresse and grabbed one of her legs, then started dragging her back towards the beam. Atavistic terror flooded Cielago, and she tried to pull away, but the stray's grip was adamant. This close, she could feel it, the burning end that would spread from the mere touch of that hateful illumination. This was no illusion, this was real, this was too jagging real.

"You're a daywalker! How are you a daywalker!"

Natalie paused and let go of her prisoner. "I'm not a daywalker. I'm the Seventh Alukah, heir to Annoch the Binder, and you are going to tell me what I want to know, or I'll eat your soul."