vine vine vine



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



The carriage, a coach and four, was just outside the gate. I am unable to give a detailed description of it, because of the lack of light. Cherry had pulled her cloak around her for warmth, and its hood was up, so she could not be seen. Baslon's brother was sitting inside the carriage already. He greeted us in this manner.

"Good day, my brother." There was something almost insolent about his voice, something that made me both want to punch him in the face and run away to hide. "My Lady Cherry." He stood up so that his figure, a fully grown, well built man, stood out against the stars. Aiding Cherry to mount, he ducked his head briefly and kissed her hand with ironic condescension. The light was too dim for me to make out any of his features. "Brother, you did not tell me there was to be a fourth of our party." I had an impression of his head turning in my direction.

"He is Cherry's servant." Baslon and the other sat down, pulling Cherry down beside him. She almost seemed to struggle and think better of it. The coach was narrow and only two could sit to a side. Therefore, I was obliged to sit next to Baslon's brother. "She would not leave him behind."

Baslon's brother did not deign to reply and perhaps it was just as well, for this kind of cold civility was uncomfortable. The coach was moving now, swiftly because the coach was so light. I looked off to the side, trying to forget what kind of creature I sat next to.

"Baslon, what does her face look like?" asked the form next to me abruptly. Baslon sat up straighter. I could not see his expression in the dark. "Baslon, show me her face."

"Teran, she is mine," said Baslon quickly.

"Brother, dear." His hand shot out and caught Baslon at the neck. He was not that much taller than the younger vampire, actually, but much broader across the shoulders, and indubitably much stronger. "Need I explain all the reasons you should do as I ask?" He gave Baslon a light shake, then withdrew.

"Cherry, will you condescend to lower your hood?" asked Baslon.

Cherry's voice had a pinched sound. "I would prefer to remain unseen."

Teran's voice took on an annoyed sound. "This is your work, I know, Baslon. Make her lower her hood."

"Cherry, would you lower your hood to save my life?" Baslon sounded desperate.

"Do not ask her. Tell her!" Baslon's brother's voice was calm.

"You are a vampire," commented Cherry. "You have no life to save. If my hood is lowered by force, there will be no face to see."

"Lower your hood!" hissed Baslon. Cherry neither answered nor obeyed.

"Baslon," said Teran mildly, with just a hint of threat, "if it is not done soon, I shall be tempted to do it for you."

"If my hood is lowered by force, there will be no face to see," Cherry repeated.

"Would you lower your hood to save Michael's life?" Cherry still did not answer, but there was a soft rustle, and I saw the profile of her head diminish in size.

"Can a light be provided?" asked Baslon's brother.

"To be sure, Teran, but her light is harmful. A violent purple fire." There was a faint smugness in his speech. "Cherry, would you be so kind?" I heard a small song coming from Cherry's direction



"Come, I call you, to crown my hand

"With the fire of the night.

"With the fire that burns so bright!

"To show my way through the world,

"Air, sea, fire and sand,

"Come, I call you, to crown my hand."



A cool white light filled the coach, seemingly coming from Cherry's hand. I fidgeted nervously at this display of magic. Cherry held her head high, not looking at any of us, although the direction of her gaze rested on Baslon's brother. "Is that satisfactory, Teran?" she asked in a low voice. Baslon looked down, touching her free hand with his own. Baslon's brother, Teran, was doing exactly what both Baslon and I had done when we first saw her in that attire. He was staring.

"How came you by this creature?" he asked breathlessly, reaching out to touch her and then pulling back as though she were fine china that could be broken by the slightest touch. Cherry did not move.

"I carried her off. She didn't give much objection, but the boy did." There was a touch of pride in Baslon's voice, accompanied by worry. "She has only twelve years, and must be permitted some leniency for that."

"Only twelve? Is that true, Princess Cherry?"

She did not answer immediately. When Teran made a move towards her, her voice sounded as if it was coming from far away. "As true as might be."

"You do not answer me. But no matter. You look old enough to make a most suitable wife."

Cherry's face was absolutely frozen. Baslon looked up quickly. "Are you going to take her from me?"

"No, she'd give too much trouble, since you have her mind foremost." Teran might have been trying to seem to be just putting it off, but his voice betrayed him. "She would be a charming mate, though."

"If you try to harm her . . . " Baslon began angrily, but when Teran looked at him, his tone became pleading. "Please, don't take Cherry from me."

"I shall be paying a visit tomorrow night. If she pleases me, I shall have an addition to my servants. Perhaps even a mate. I have not one, yet."

"Please!"

"A gift to keep peace between us. To show that you are obedient. My gift to you will be the boy. It is a good arrangement."

"A good arrangement to your way of thinking," growled Cherry as she snuffed the light. "You talk as if I was not good for anything beyond looking at. I hate the vampires way of thinking."

"Silence, girl!"

"Not yet," murmured Cherry softly. "Thus far I am not bound to anyone or thing, by oath, loss of will, or any other way. Michael is not bound either, unless in a way which I can not comprehend." I knew that she was referring to my love for her.

"She speaks the truth, Teran," affirmed Baslon.

"How can that be?" Teran reached his hand across to Cherry.

"Do not touch me!" shrieked Cherry. The hand drew back swiftly. "The holes are there," said she in a quieter tone.

"The holes are there, yet she is not bound. How can that be, little brother?"

"Easily," answered Cherry. "Rebellion works well with vampires. A slight taste and they pursue no longer." She paused. Then, in a softer voice, "If you attempt to take me from Michael, I have the means and will use them to defend myself." There was a low laugh from her direction. "I accidentally gave Baslon a taste today."

"What happened, little brother? I am curious as to how a child who is not yet a witch could harm her superior." Teran mocked Baslon.

"Imagine the sun suddenly turning from yellow to purple. That answer, I think, is sufficient."

"It could be very dangerous for you, my Lady," and there seemed to be more behind the 'my' than just to make it the proper title, "if you tried to do that to me. Even so, I am sure you were punished for it."

"She was not. We were in a hurry."

"In that case you will be letting her go free? You are easy with the child. Not hypnotizing her, not punishing her. I should not give her half so much freedom."

"I did hypnotize her. She resisted. I don't know exactly what she did. I think that not even father could control her." Baslon's voice was weak.

"Then I am afraid, brother, that even if I decide I do not want her, she shall be brought to me daily for taming. We can not have trouble makers in the house."

"We are here," said Baslon. And indeed we were. High on a mountain top, looking down on the world, was a glade of fall trees, all decked in orange, red and gold. The ground was white with snow and there were blazing torches all around us. The carriage stopped and we got out. There was no wind and the moonlit night was as still as could be.

There was a giggle. Someone said "hush!" and a few more whispers took place, seemingly from the sky.

"Woodland people, why do you hide?" called out Cherry. The whispers stopped. "Travelling people, show yourselves!" There was a rustle of leaves and a tall man dropped out of a tree. He was clad in green and gold and a steel knife was stuck through his belt. He knelt on one knee to Cherry.

"Welcome, mistress, to your kingdom!" He turned around and speaking in a language I did not understand, called to the trees. Now people began to emerge from every tree and branch around us. There were over fifty in all. All were dressed in ceremonial clothes and all seemed to regard Cherry as a deity. The rest of us, Teran, Baslon and I, were forgotten in the tumult.

The people, the witches, thronged about her, laughing, singing and paying her every attention. Someone shouted in those strange words and all fell silent. Cherry's mother, Vrenkley, was standing on a raised platform and Cherry was standing before her. The initiation was taking place. Words were exchanged that I did not understand, among them 'wano Obscrond e winea Mirange' (Cherry instructed me on this spelling).

At the end of the long speech in which almost everything Vrenkley said was dutifully repeated by Cherry, Vrenkley pointed to a bone fire in the middle of the plateau and Cherry started toward it. A high pole rose tall from the center of it, made of metal, undoubtedly, or it would have been burned. Something gleamed at the top.

Cherry walked directly into the fire, as the crowd parted to make way for her. I started towards her, only to be grabbed by the shoulder.

"Let her be," said Baslon. "Cherry will be all right. I've seen this before. It's a common part of the initiation. She has to retrieve her amulet before she legally becomes an adult elf." The voice of Baslon was edged with worry. "She is only half a witch," he added lower, to himself. "What if that is not enough to protect her?" His grip on my shoulder tightened unconsciously. I bit my lip and bore the pain.

Teran also watched the fire intently. 'Oh,' I thought, 'what if she does burn? What if she dies? I'll die, either of heartbreak or blood loss.' Cherry did emerge from the fire unscathed, somehow. She was laughing, and waved her hand at the people assembled. Then the festivities began.

A table was brought out and food of multiple sorts placed on it, as was wine, but I did not partake of it. Everyone was talking, laughing and dancing, yet I kept to myself, a little ways into the forest. I felt out of place near all those majestic, fun filled people. Cherry was not there to comfort me, so I wandered a little ways into the woods all alone and sat down with my back against a tree. To my astonishment, Baslon came towards me with two flagons of wine.

"Would you like some?" I was surprised, but I took it. He sat down next to me.

"What do you want?" I asked suspiciously. Neither of us drank.

Baslon glanced at me. There was not much light, and so his eyes seemed nonexistent. His face seemed half black, in shadow, and half yellow, a reflection of the flames of the bonfire. "The same thing you want, I guess."

"What is that?" I couldn't imagine Baslon would ever want to talk to me.

"Cherry's love." He peered at his wine and swirled the cup, the began talking in a dreamy tone. "When I first saw her, I knew I had to have her." The next words seemed almost forced out, and not much true. "I'm . . . sorry . . . I was so cruel to you, but you infuriated me. It had just been so long since I had anyone cross me other than my brother and it gave me a chance to know what revenge was like. Then when Cherry kept showing a preference for you, I needed somewhere to vent that anger and I couldn't harm Cherry and my brother would have killed me if I tried to attack him. Now we have both lost her, it seems. When Teran sees something he wants, he takes it. Soon enough, he'll take Cherry." His hand was trembling. Quite a bit of the liquid in the cup had splashed out.

"Cherry said that was true of all vampires." My voice was timid.

"Stop being afraid that I'll kill you for the least little thing," he snapped, then stopped. "You have every right to, I know."

I did not answer, instead staring at the elves. There seemed to be two main types of dances, a wild one, throwing all dignity away, and a stately one, pulling all possible pride around themselves. Cherry was remarkable in that she mixed the two no matter which dance music was being played. "Is there any chance he won't take Cherry? Is there any chance that she could escape from him?"

Baslon tipped his head back to stare at the sky with closed eye and rigid face. He answered me with a complete lack of emotion. "To the first question. No. To the second, about as much chance as she had of escaping me. She did, though." A touch of hysterical laughter tried to slip through the marble facade. He opened his eyes, looking up, through the trees and to the heavens. "The moon is so beautiful. It gives light, yet not too much. Cherry's eyes, though, gave too much. That hurt! Why did she do it, I wonder?"

My mouth fell open, and I shook my head blankly. I had no idea about the workings of magic, and almost as little about the workings of Cherry's mind. "I don't think Cherry knew what she was doing. If she had malicious intentions, I think it would have shown."

"Oh? You know Cherry well, it seems. Tell me about her." Baslon's voice was eager. He was looking at me intently, the black eye still in the light gleaming bright, the other invisible.

"Um . . . yes, Cherry Amano Tudor. That is her name. She has all the pride of her house and is much more vicious. Her anger, once aroused, can kill, but . . . the strangest things can arouse her!" My mouth twisted wryly.

"Has she ever harmed you?"

"Oh, no, I was very careful to avoid those things, I can assure you!"

"She must admire you greatly to bring you with her to Romania."

"Her father invited me. She was furious when she found out that I was coming. Her father was terrified of her anger, but I knew how to calm her down. She never wanted me to come."

"Yet you came anyway. Why?"

"Cherry is a girl and can not become ambassador for England to Romania. Her spouse inherits the position, as her father has no other children. Cherry will never marry of her own free will. So Ambassador Tudor thought to make a match. This intention triggered ill will towards me."

"What kind of person do you think she would love?"

I snorted. "She can't love. She never has and very likely never will. She was fonder of her mice than anything else. She really did not care for them, but she would be glad to have some again."

"Perhaps she will. Perhaps she will." Baslon glanced towards the throng of elven-witches, Cherry among them. "My brother is forcible. See how he holds her."

It was not easy for me to discern Cherry's figure among all the others, but I found her at length. Her feet were moving, but she was not dancing. Teran's arm was wrapped firmly around her waist and he gripped her hand with his own. Cherry twisted her body a little and he gripped her tighter, saying something. I imagine that Teran was reprimanding the newly made supernatural, though I was too far away to hear. Cherry ducked slightly, seemingly wincing from a blow of sorts and then suddenly forced herself up taller, throwing the brother of Baslon off her a bit. She disappeared into the crowd, leaving Teran frowning. Baslon chuckled.

"No frightened rabbit is she! If Teran has half as much trouble with her as I did, I will count myself well revenged."

"He will have more trouble," I said.

"What?" Baslon's head swiveled towards me curiously. I repeated myself.

"He will have more trouble."

"How can you be so sure of that?"

"She hates him. I think Cherry admired you and therefore did not give you as much trouble as she might have. Believe me, that girl can be very trying to your temper!"

I then related the first joke Cherry had played on me, the one that had founded our nebulous friendship. She had been up in an oak tree, and I was attempting to climb up it also, slipping more often than not. She had been giving me an inconvenient amount of unhelpful advice, as well as laughing at my feeble attempts to attain the highest point while I could barely get off the ground. It was the lunch hour, and Cherry had her's up with her. After awhile, she had gotten tired of teasing me and deftly dumped several uncooked eggs on my head. As I spluttered, trying to get the yolks out of my eyes and the whites out of my hair, Cherry lowered herself down and literally threw me up the tree, where I caught very neatly on a strong dead branch. She left me hanging there until my tutor came by, looking for me, and convinced another peasant to help me down. I got a sound scolding all the way home. Afterwards, when I had tried to reprimand Cherry, she had said with false meekness;

"My Lord Michael, can you really be so angry with me? After all, I am nothing but an illiterate peasant attempting to learn something."

Which was a blatant lie, and I knew that from the beginning. When I couldn't find anything to say, Cherry burst out laughing and ran off, her hair streaming like a red flag behind her, with a mouse on her shoulder. I kept cornering her and trying to scold her for what she had done and she always shot back a short speech that I couldn't answer, until I gave up and stopped scolding her and simply talked with her. When I finished my narrative, Baslon smiled.

"You are a good story teller and have a fine voice. How she could do that to such a gentlemanly young fellow as yourself, I do not know." It was a compliment that I was uncertain how to take. I did not know whether it was sarcastic or not.

"I know. I was worth talking to, so she didn't ignore me. It was a compliment, although she has a strange way of giving them."

"You know her well, do you not?"

"Well enough to know how to keep from death and harm. No one knows her, though. She is herself and, though predictable, her reasons can never be explained. At least she was predictable."

"I am sorry if you do not like the changes I caused. I did not put them to her."

"Excuse me?"

"It is an expression. I did not tell her to change, did not change her on purpose."

"You tried," I accused.

"Try not to hold that against me, please." His eyes drifted back towards the party. Cherry was talking with some of the witches, a goblet in her hand. Teran was nearby, but among her own people, Cherry would be well protected. "Little elven girl! How I miss you. I have never dealt any other than humans, before."

"Elven?"

"Witch is only the term the natives use. This is a group of elves. Perhaps you would prefer to refer to her as an elf. Humans often seem afraid of witches." I nodded. Although I hadn't actually been afraid of Cherry, or any of her companions that were now present, (for what reason did they give me?) the word sent me into spasms of distrust. Also, it made me feel easier about myself. "Cherry!"

The person addressed turned her head in our direction, stepping a little to one side to see us through the trees. "Yes? What is it, Baslon?"

"If we do not go now, we will return with two less of our party than when we came."

At once, the assembly began to break up, the elves either drifting into the forest or climbing up into the trees. I assumed that this was where Cherry got her liking for trees from. I do not know where she received her liking for pranks. One of the elves held open the door of our coach, while another untied our horses. On the way back, I had the chance to sit next to Cherry and the conversation was made up of mainly Teran's admiring of Cherry and Baslon's pleading to keep her. I've only heard worse conversation at my father's political meetings, which I hated, but was made to take part in. Our coach and six pulled up at the gate only shortly before sun rise and the older vampire was in so much of a hurry to get inside that he did not tarry. Once inside the castle, he disappeared. Baslon looked at us, and the was a shine in his eyes similar to that of a moon on a watery lake.

"Cherry. Do not be here tonight. The days are long in the summer. I suggest you take a horse and go far, far away for the time being. Perhaps later, it will be safer." Cherry started to open her mouth with a surprised remark, but he quickly seized her face and stared down balefully into her eyes. "And you will return! You will!" She closed her mouth and nodded hurriedly. The vampire kissed her on both cheeks, took a slight step away from her, bowed sharply, turned, and ran as fast as he could into the castle, leaving us to get to our rooms at our leisure. When there, Cherry fell almost immediately asleep. I stirred up the fire before following her example.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



The next night, Teran did come to claim his prize. Cherry, however, was not to be found. After breezing through the rooms several times, he stood in the center of the living room and demanded, "Where is she?" Neither Baslon nor I answered. I kept my face carefully blank of all expression. Baslon seemed curiously light and ready for something, and there was the faintest suggestion of a sneer around his lips. His brother took exception to this. With a quick step forward, Teran grabbed the younger vampire by the front of his shirt and shook him. "Brother, if you think to hide anything I want from me . . . !"

Baslon kicked him savagely, which made his brother drop him. Then he balled up one hand in a fist and punched his adversary in the nose. With a bellow, Teran swept out an arm, flinging the other against the wall with all his might. By this time, I had prudently retreated to the farthest corner of the room.

The older brother had all the advantages; height, weight, training, agility, strength, speed. Teran could and did handle Baslon like a kitten. After considerable blows had been exchanged, the younger of the two was bruised and bleeding, one eye swollen closed, a fat lip and a broken wrist. Teran had not come out of the fight entirely well, though. He limped, favoring the left leg, and had a livid purple spot on the corresponding cheek. When Baslon finally staggered and lay still on the floor, the other vampire first knelt beside him and seemed to be checking for vital signs, then seized his brother's shirt collar, twisting and hoisting him into the air. "Now," he growled with cold eyes, "where is she?"

"Somewhere far away and where you will never find her!" Baslon whispered, and got fiercely shaken for his trouble.

"Where?" Baslon did not answer, going completely limp. Teran glared and seemed to think for a moment. "The elves, is it not?" he hissed. "You have sent your Cherry back to the elves, have you not?"

Baslon waveringly propped himself up on his elbows and gazed at his brother. "My Cherry," he murmured, then laughed out loud. I stared at that, wondering if he might be going insane. "Mine! I won the bet, didn't I, brother?"

"Not yet," snarled Teran. "She is not a vampire yet, and she is not your wife. She is a frightened girl, half-elf, half-human, and I will have her!" He stormed out of the room. Baslon was still laughing. I cautiously stepped forward.

"Help me up, lad." He reached up with his good hand. I wavered, then touched and pulled back, but he grabbed my arm and pulled himself up. It felt like a perfectly normal hand of any man after a fight, a bit hot and sweaty and holding on too hard, and with a racing pulse. I edged back as soon as he let go. "Still afraid, are you? Even after that?" He wiped the blood off his chin and stared at it, then flung as much away from him as possible.

"What . . ." I cleared my throat. "Why were you talking about bets?"

Baslon's eyes narrowed. "You heard that, did you?" His good hand clenched into a fist; the broken one twitched but stayed limp. "You will not mention it to Cherry." He took a menacing step towards me. I scuttled backwards to the wall, closing my eyes.

"Of course not!" I squeaked. "She'll just tell me to shut up if I try." I peeked at him. "Of course, if I knew, I wouldn't try to find out."

To my surprise, he relaxed and gestured me to a chair. "Then it would probably be best if I assuaged your ridiculous curiosity, then, wouldn't it? Pray, be seated." I tiptoed to a chair and sat down, ready to jump up again at any provocation. Baslon settled into a cushioned chair, his black hair shining in the firelight and contrasting greatly with his pale face, his black eyes hooded and nearly invisible in the shadows. He crossed one ankle over the other knee in a perfectly nonchalant gesture. The only trouble with the picture he produced was the awkward angle of one wrist. All other signs of the recent battle were hidden in the darkness, and the blood had all but stopped flowing. "My brother," he began, "is very annoying. But you had already gathered that. He was born to our mother while she was still human, and made a zombie vampire through her mechanisms, and so is over two thousand years older than me."

"What!" I jumped out of my chair, but lost my balance and sat on the floor.

"Be quiet!" he snapped, then waited while I resumed my seat and pushed it a few inches further from him. "Yes, over two thousand years, and as such would be my superior except for two things. I was born a vampire, and I am my father's son." He glared at me, daring me to react. I stared at him with wide eyes. Finally, he nodded and continued. "That means there must forever be rivalry and antagonism between us, and we are encouraged by our mother. Perhaps I could pretend I like you," he mused. "That would get rid of you fast enough." I squeaked. "But no, you have your patroness to protect you, and that means I could never be convincing enough. One of Teran's . . . less appreciated comments to me involved my habit of feeding only once every five days, instead of every day, as he did. He implied that it was because of a lack of bravery. I told him that at least I was a true vampire, and heir. Teran told me that I would not dare risk my inheritance, so cowardly was I. This fool told that fool that I would risk everything if the cause was right. My brother, of course, seized that. One such cause is a mate, a wife, a bride, so that I myself should have an heir. I do not remember exactly what he said, but the result was that I should steal away a human female, gain her approval, and marry her before my eighteenth birthday, or Teran would take all, including my life. And so you see." He looked at me directly.

My mind had stopped on one word. "Feeding?" I gasped.

Baslon's gaze became sharper. "Yes. On the blood of humans. You are even more the fool than I if you have not figured that out by now . . . my Lady!" The vampire almost stumbled in standing up. Cherry stood in the doorway, looking faint. "I thought I told you to stay away until the dawn." A flicker of anger crossed over his face.

"I chose to believe that the intent might change should the cause be thwarted," she answered. "Elves have certain . . . abilities, and certain people have a tendency to be averse to burning. I trust the under-prince will be taken care of, but I chose not to remain.

"Cherry, speak plainly!" He strode towards her quickly, but with a slow movement, Cherry took his wounded hand between hers and studied it, and Baslon's words were stopped. He started to touch her cheek at the same moment she looked up at him.

"Stupid," she said quietly. "That was very stupid. Your brother nearly killed me because of his anger towards you. And I nearly killed him, in self defense." She dropped his hand and left to her bedroom. Baslon stared at her, his face beginning to twist furiously.

"Brother," Baslon sneered, his face twisting, muscles tightening, and both hands raising, the good one clenching into a fist. "My brother, indeed! We are not even of the same species." His fist crashed into the wall in a mighty backhand, and he growled, stalking out of the suite, presumably to find a doctor to patch up his two broken hands.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



There is nothing in the world quite like a vampire, or so it seems to me. Not even more than one vampire, because when there are more than one present, they never seem to focus on me. There is an almost innate rivalry between them, and no two can be long without establishing some form of ranking. I had some faint idea in my mind of this when seeing Teran and Baslon together, but it solidified after I had viewed Baslon's father.

Teran breezed into the sitting room and seized Cherry's wrist, then strode out again without explanation or even giving her a chance to get her feet under her. I rushed after them. I suppose I was thinking of trying to pry the vampire away, but Cherry grabbed my hand to use me as leverage to gain her balance, and did not let go when we stopped in the hall. The lead was confronted by his furious younger brother.

"You. Have. No. Right!" Baslon forced out between clenched teeth, punctuating the statement with snapped fingers right before Teran's nose.

"I have every right. She is half a human! You know what she did to me!" Observing over Cherry's shoulder, I saw that Teran's face, yesterday near exactly like Baslon's but more malicious in expression, was striped with wavy burns disappearing beneath the collar. It looked very painful, and he was very tense with it.

"That makes no difference!" Baslon shouted. "She is a citizen of Cirala's elven tribe and of Father's realm! He has ordered me to bring her to him, and you dare to lay hands on my property."

"Baslon," Cherry put in with a tight voice, "your . . . property . . . is being damaged. I cannot feel it, but he is burning me. Manacles, I think, is his intention."

Both the brothers had started when she began to speak. Teran opened his mouth to reprimand her, slightly raising his free hand to emphasize with violence. Baslon jerked, and put out both hands to shove his brother away. Cherry ducked and twisted her arm free, stepping back to the wall. Then she turned to me. "Come, Michael, didn't you hear?" she asked calmly.

"Hear what?" I asked blankly.

"We've been summoned to the king's presence. Hurry. This way, I believe. We have already been stalled long enough with petty matters." She shook her blue skirts out and casually stepped down the corridor. I had little choice but to follow. The two brothers were indulging in a bit of shoving, nothing nearly on the scale of the previous night. Then Baslon stepped back, and I was interested to note the Teran would not meet his gaze, instead turning away and striding past us. Baslon laughed, a taunting sound that hurried his brother's pace even as he hurried his own to catch up to us and take Cherry's arm. She immediately dropped my hand, I hesitated, and fell immediately behind, a silent, useless chaperon. Cherry kept her head bowed, her long red hair providing a bright curtain between her and the tall, grim shadow of ice and night on her left. We had to walk a long way, and once Teran was out of sight, it could hardly be entirely without conversation. "Your father," Cherry said quietly. Baslon's head turned quickly towards her. "He summoned me?"

"Yes, he did." His bearing grew rather smug. "He was not overly pleased with Teran's deviations, and he knows who your mother is. I do not think you will be bothered by that pretender much longer."

Cherry's feet stopped moving in surprise. "He is not a prince?"

"Oh, he is, at least in title, but no other way. And he is but a false vampire, a zombie. And yes, he can order you to give him whatever he wants. But not me, and he will not dare disobey me again." Cherry glanced up at him quickly, then turned her face away from the chill that was as much in his face as his voice. "Even if Father does not see to that, I will. Cherry, pet, Father won't like to be kept waiting."

Hesitating only a little, she resumed movement, this time affecting a limp. Baslon looked concerned and started to open his mouth, but at that moment I stumbled over something on the flawless rugs of the floor, bumping into him. He turned slightly to frown at me, causing me to fall back and stare at my blameless feet, but he kept his mouth closed.

We began to pass servants. Only a few, at first, and then more and more as we entered the more populated areas of the castle. I edged closer to Cherry every time I remembered what species these people were likely to be, or whenever we saw a noble. Cherry drew in on herself, becoming much smaller, which made me notice that I was taller than almost every person we saw, and I was neither significantly tall for my age nor fully grown. Baslon seemed perfectly unconcerned, but patted Cherry's hand every once in a while. Everyone bowed or curtsied to him, and he topped me by several inches, whether he was fully grown or not.

Approaching a rather large pair of doors made of dark metal worked in strange patters and flanked by three people in uniform on each side, I saw Teran again. He was fuming at having been kept waiting outside. Baslon stopped and waited without a word while one of the guards stepped in, presumably to announce him. Then the right door was held open, and we were admitted. Teran had to wait while Baslon and Cherry entered first, but he nearly wrenched my shoulder away and only barely stopped himself from throwing me against the wall when he held me back so that he could enter before the pitiful human.

Inside the room, which was of fair size, were five statues, one of an angel with wings, one of a devil with horns and tail, one of a wolf, and two seeming fairly normal to me. One was in each corner of the room, and one standing to the left of the small, elegantly dressed man sitting behind the desk that was the focal point of the room. On the left and right walls were landscape paintings. On the desk was a bundle of parchments and papers, writing materials, a seal and sealing wax, and a large circlet of gold and silver in the shape of a score of eight-sided stars with the points touching with a thin, leafy vine twined around them.

My first thought was wonderment that this could be a king. He was surrounded by quiet elegance, nothing nearly as grand as the court of England. I was reminded sharply of etiquette when I saw Teran genuflecting, and hurriedly went down on one knee myself. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Baslon bowing and still holding onto Cherry's arm, now more possessively, and Cherry moving in an approximation of a curtsey with the pressure.

"And this is the half-human princess who is causing so much discord in my household?" the king asked, looking at her curiously. "Half human and half elven? I do not believe it." Cherry's head came up. "And who is the fourth creature? Why is there a human here? Prince Teran, stand up." He obeyed and stepped to the side.

"Yes, your Majesty, this is Princess Cherry," answered Baslon. "Michael is her servant and guard." I raised my head to stare at him. Was he mocking me, to call me a guard, when he knew how much stronger he was than I?

"Guard!" laughed the king. "Indeed! Baslon, let this be an informal meeting." For some reason this made Baslon stiffen with a type of indignant fear. "And you human, Michael, stand and be unobtrusive and watchful, the guard and the servant." I jerked my hand, rose to my feet, and stepped silently into a shadow behind the wolf statue. "And you, princess, tell me what your claim to parentage is."

Cherry raised her chin and spoke in a relatively light voice, as if not completely at ease. "My father is an unusual human who knows more than my mother ever suspected, a minor noble of a great house in the area of Misty Island. Mother is the queen of Cirala's elves, the Mnerecros tribe."

The king frowned at his hands. "Yes, I suppose you must be half an elf. The High Priestess of the Creators is too much an elf for her own good. Do you find something funny in that?" he demanded, glaring at Cherry, who had let a bit of a laugh escape.

"Yes," she said defiantly.

"Good. Then you'll be a better queen than ever your mother was. Your father. Are you positive he is not related to the . . . angels? Perhaps the sirens?" Cherry shook her head. "What does he look like? Describe him to me."

Cherry took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Rather tall for a human, but within the natural range. Blunt nose, rectangular face, soft lips, level eye, hazel colored. Fair, fine hair." She opened her eyes to their widest, smiling shyly. "Shall I tell you about my mother, now?"

The king smiled back at her, then looked over at Teran. "Score one for you. She is impudent." Baslon scowled and was noticed. "Ah, but son, it means nothing, this point. It is no proof that the dissension is any fault of hers. A piece of advice, if you will take it." He leaned forward over the desk. "Encourage that humor."

"Father . . . I can hardly do so if there must be continuous fights in her presence."

"You worry about that, do you? You wish for my help, my authority to decide whether my son or my wife's eldest is to receive a present of a royal princess, perhaps a priestess?" He glanced at Cherry with a raised eyebrow. She nodded, and after a moment drew something on a chain out from under her dress. I recognized it, somehow, as the item I had seen at a distance atop a pole in the midst of a great fire. This time, I could make out details of a circle perhaps as large as a grown man's hand, with two twisting lines cutting it in half, two snakes with garnets for eyes. She presented this medallion to the king as evidence, stepping forward and conveniently getting her arm away from Baslon. She did not return to his side. "Yes, a priestess of the Goddess of Emotions. How appropriate! Well, then, I will tell you what I intend to do about it." He paused, eyeing the two vampires in front of him, and surprisingly glanced at me as well. "Nothing."

Both supplicants started. Baslon opened his mouth to protest and closed it again just as quickly. Teran was not as wise. "But I have told you, she needs discipline! If the half-human will not behave, and Baslon refuses to correct her, then Yama only knows what will happen! I will be able to provide a leader for her, instill the proper respect . . ."

The king stood up. "Do you then mean for me to turn the only child of my most powerful vassal into a sniveling slave?" he asked in a deadly quiet voice, his brown eyes cold. Teran shut his mouth with a snap and shook his head dumbly. "Good. Because that is one thing I refuse to do. You have not thought it out clearly, Prince Teran, and you presume too far upon a decree of an informal meeting. Pray moderate your voice." He sat again. "And, Baslon, only a person who can keep what he holds for the moment will ever be a leader. A king this world shall have, but I can die, and you will need to be a leader as well." Baslon bowed. The king nodded, his eyes wandering the Cherry. "And what does he hold, I wonder?"

"A prisoner," she said flatly.

His eyebrows shot up. "Really? Quite. If the prisoner should escape, then . . . where would she go? To a mother she agrees is too elven for her own good? To live all on her own? To a human father where her full potential must be suppressed? Who raised you, Princess of Mnerecros?"

"My father, my two uncles, the elven tribe living nearest to my father's house, and others. For the first three years of my life, before . . . my mother had the sole charge of me."

"Before your grandfather died and she was forced to take on the dignity of her current high title?" Cherry was silent. "Before she abandoned you? Who were the 'others'?"

"My father's grooms, Uncle Edmund's sergeant at arms and those under him, Uncle Jasper's dancing instructors and tutors and music teachers, people travelling through, the priests, the river when I made the mistake of mentioning in a cousin's presence meeting with a dwarf-giant-human crossbreed and they decided to try to drown me. That was when and why Mother abandoned me."

"Oh, Cherry!" exclaimed Baslon pityingly, and she glanced over her shoulder at him in surprise. I shifted my feet uncomfortably.

"Hm, yes. That was what, fifteen years ago? You are young to have been taken to the priesthood already."

Cherry's voice was like a rock, cool and steady and hard. "Your Majesty knows how old I am."

"Yes, I do. Perhaps I can surprise you into a confession of relationship to the giants. Now, what kind of person can walk through a roaring fire when that person is twelve years old? Perhaps only . . . a very powerful one. As so much power needs guidance, and you would by most people not be considered old enough to provide it on your own. Very well then, I will compromise. Baslon. Teran. I appoint you her joint guardians until she comes of appropriate age. You may have the intervening eighty-eight years to court her Highness properly." The two looked ready to protest again, but merely looked at each other with disgust. The king plucked up a pen and paper and opened an inkwell, looking down with full attention on his documents. "You must come back now and again to tell me how things are progressing. Dismissed."

Teran left immediately, and Baslon had turned to go when the statue beside the king moved, and I was shocked to realize that it was a living being. Her face was as white as her dress, her eyes and hair black so that I had thought a clever sculptor had used two types of marble. "Baslon, your sleeve is torn."

Turning around, Baslon looked down quickly, then faced the lady calmly, fingering his coat sleeve absently. "Yes, Mother, it is. Good night to you both. Cherry?" Picking up her skirts, she moved quickly enough to precede him out and not need to have him take her arm. I followed, almost stepping on her heels, and saw how it backfired when Teran seized her about the waist. Perhaps it was not an entirely good idea, because she made a slight movement, and Teran stumbled, nearly falling to the floor, which made several of the servants turn around to look. One of the guards helped him to his feet. The other five looked at her hostilely until they realized Baslon was returning the emotion with interest, after which their faces became quite blank, and he took Cherry's arm regardless of her wishes.

No one spoke until we were out of the populated areas. Then Teran said, "There are only two years for you, brother. After you lose, I will have all of eternity."

"That does remain to be seen," replied Baslon mildly, in an unnaturally good mood. "You are not my brother. Both your parents were humans. Both of mine are vampires."

"Our mother is the same!" Teran exclaimed indignantly.

Baslon laughed and ignored him. "Cherry, pet, there was no need to ruin my clothes with your nails. You could have harmed me just as much and left bruises instead of drawn blood." She did not raise her head or answer. "Cherry, please look at me."

She took a deep breath. "Baslon, that would require turning my back on your brother."

Both vampires scowled at her, and she kept her head down and her hair draped over her neck. I permitted myself a quiet chuckle.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



I was heading towards the kitchen, shaking my head over Cherry's nature in general and her most recent discovery of how to tease me in particular, and keeping a sharp eye out for any danger. I did not see Baslon until a hand darted out to grab onto my sleeve and arrest my passage down the hall.

"Michael! I want to talk to you."

I jerked my arm back and took a step away from him. "About what?" I asked warily.

"Courting. I want to know how humans do their courting." His face, looking down at me, looked as though he though his request was perfectly natural.

"You want what?" I squawked, and stamped down hard on laughter. "Why? Why now? Isn't it a bit late to try that tactic? You're going to court Cherry? I don't think she'd take it the way you meant it."

He looked slightly annoyed with me. "I asked you a question, boy. I do not need to hear yours."

I grimaced. It was back to being called 'boy' by a person barely a year older than me. "I may not be as stubborn as Cherry, but I can stand up for myself. I asked you, what, five questions? Yours doesn't make sense. Besides, I'm not exactly certain I know how to court. I mean, I was only twelve when I was forced to leave society for good, I'd mostly been at my books before that, and it's been over three years."

"I did not 'force' you to come. I had no need of you. You could very well have stayed behind."

"What, with the wolves? Didn't you notice there was a dead man's body next to us when you kidnapped Cherry?"

He suddenly looked uncomfortable. Staring over my head, he said distantly, "That was not a wolf's doing. Not exactly. Not a real wolf."

In opening my mouth to ask what he meant, I realized what must be the answer, shut my mouth, and edged another step away. Considering the distance between us, I decided it was not enough, and stepped back again. Baslon observed me sardonically.

"When you are finished," he drawled, "you may answer me."

"Uh-huh. Right. Do you really want my advise? Don't bother."

"I don't want your advise." His boot tapped restlessly on the floor. Wanting to complete my errand and get back to relative safety, I glanced longingly over my shoulder towards the kitchen. "I want . . . a way to put on a show of sorts for my father that will contrast with my brother's appropriately and that Cherry will both understand and accept."

"Well, then what's wrong with your ways? Why can't you just ask Cherry?"

"I said contrast with my brother's. And Cherry is not exactly trustworthy to me."

"Well, and why should she be? You kidnapped her and locked her up. As far as you're concerned, I'm no more trustworthy than she is!" I realized what I was saying and quickly shut my mouth on that train of speech.

Baslon nodded thoughtfully. "You're right. It was a foolish though on my part. Now, I have answered many more of your questions than you deserve, or even than I had intended to. You must do me the justice of returning the favor by giving me the benefit of your lack of knowledge. You may speak freely. I give you my word not to harm you because of anything you say tonight."

I decided to trust his word. After all, he had not lied yet, although it was probably because he had not needed to, and he might eventually decide that beating an answer out of me would be easier. "All right. We'll start off that way. As far as you're concerned, I'm just an idiot. I'll take it for granted that I am whenever your Worshipful Highness is present. So as to the courting. Mother always liked presents, flowers or jewelry or sweets, a special dinner, or even when there was a time alone with Father or me. She liked spending time with her family. She liked compliments of any sort, and music, and poetry, and dancing. I suppose you can guess what Cherry will take from you quite as well as I do." I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

Baslon was observing me in quiet surprise. "Perhaps humans are not so strange after all. You seem to be growing up, lad. Now I have another question, since you had me answer so many. Why are you out here in the night time?"

I shrugged. "Cherry decided she wanted some venison. I am supposed to be her servant."

His eyebrows lifted in surprise, and then he smiled awkwardly. "You must permit me to get it for her."

"Whoosh." I rocked back on my heels. "I'll give you some more advice. Don't. Don't even come near her for another hour or so. Cherry's in a good mood."

He scowled at me. "And why should I avoid Cherry if that is the case?"

"Because that might prove you to be more of an idiot than I am? As soon as I can get away, I am locking my door on her. I am not going to play with fire. You can endanger your life, if you want. Try taking her outside, not that going anywhere with you without a chaperon wouldn't make her either sulky or furious. Maybe the fresh air would calm her down. And are you going to go back on your word?" He checked a sudden step forward. "Do you still want to get her dinner?"

"Why are you insulting her so?" he rasped.

"Because I know her, and I have no desire to see her become a murderer again. What are you going to tell your father?"

"Nothing, yet." He added, muttered under his breath, "Although I might black both Teran's eye for him."

"What was that?" I asked innocently. He stared at me coldly.

"Go back to your rooms, boy. I will take care of my Lady's dinner." He turned his back on me and stalked away. Wondering where he was going, since the only thing in the direction that I knew of was Cherry's suite and his words indicated he would not return there ahead of me, I shrugged and followed him at a short distance, constantly looking over my shoulder. When he strode past the little door, I slipped inside, going directly to my little room, hoping she would not call me to try to teach me to read minds again.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



I opened the door because Cherry had told me too, not because I heard any knocking, and stared in surprise at a tiny blue creature, perhaps a foot in height, with wings twice as long rapidly beating to support it in the air with its head a little above my chin. When it saw me, it immediately rose to eye level. "You will come with me, please."

"Why? What are you?" blurted. I wondered whether it was male or female, too, but clenched my teeth on that question.

"You are the human, Michael?" it inquired.

I nodded. "Michael of York."

It seemed amused by something, but answered my second question with strict politeness. "My name is Yonjinjac. I am what you might call a pixy, or more specifically, a sprite. I am a page of his Majesty's personal household, and I have been ordered to bring you to the royal study for having speech with the High King. You will come with me, please."

I quickly said, "Let me tell Cherry first."

The sprite nodded graciously. "Of course."

I went back to the living room. "Cherry," I began.

She interrupted me promptly. "Michael, I think my hearing is almost infinitely better than yours. Can't you hear a sprite's knock? Just go."

I opened my mouth to ask what she was talking about, closed it instead, and went back to follow the little blue pixy-sprite back to the king's study at a soldier's trot. It had me pause outside the door and waited patiently by the wall on a small shelf sticking out. I shifted my feet restlessly and impatiently stood next to it. The guards in tan and black livery seemed to ignore us, but I had no doubt they would use their swords should anything seem to endanger their liege lord.

A woman seemed to fly out of the room. She did not pause, and I had no more time than to see dark hair, pale skin, and jewel-like dress before she gathered but the hem of her robes and her dignity and marched haughtily away. The sprite stirred again. "You may go in now, Michael of York," it said, and flew to announce me. I entered, and the door was shut behind me. The servants were certainly zealous in their work.

"Yes, the one who does not speak," said the king's rich voice. "You will speak now. The servant and guard, Michael. Of York? Where is that?"

"In England," I answered in surprise, and went on to tell him what an illustrious line I came from. He listened attentively.

"Yes, indeed, how . . . traditional."

"Ah . . . your Majesty?"

"No, ignore that. Michael . . .of York. . . ." He paused a moment, thinking inwardly with a hand over his mouth. "I have it in my mind to inspect the humans, and the situation of the princess." It suddenly occurred to me that I should call Cherry her Highness. "Somehow, her presence has been overlooked, and I wish to know how that can be. How long had you been here before Queen Vrenkley came to request the princess be initiated into her adulthood?"

I tried to tabulate it in my head, but could get nothing near exact. "Oh, perhaps two and one half years, your Majesty."

"Years!" the king roared, standing up. "Her Highness had been here, in this castle, for years against her will?"

"Um, approximately, your Majesty," I said, shrinking back and perceiving with dismay that I would be unable to haunt a shadowed corner to keep attention from falling on me.

"How did I not know of this?" he demanded in a deceptively modulated tone.

"Er . . . your Majesty, I apologize most humbly for not knowing," I stated carefully, hoping a quiet murmur at each pause would do.

The vampire king stared at me, his face registering slight puzzlement. His hand covered his mouth again in that symbol of thought. "Thank you for making me aware of that, Michael of York," he said with a curious tone of voice that I was given little chance to decipher. "Who have you seen since coming here?"

"Mostly just Cherry and Bas . . ." His eyebrows shot up, and my tongue stumbled. "I, I mean, her Highness and his Highness. I'm her Highness's squire."

"And what, pray, is a squire?"

I was astonished. It had not occurred to me that there would be no squires in this odd lifestyle. "Someone . . . who's in training to be a knight, your Majesty. A place of honor for someone to serve his master . . . although, usually, a squire isn't given to a mistress for a birthday present."

"I gather you have no female knights? How odd." He thought for a moment. "Two and a half years in a remote section of the palace with no one knowing of her presence save my son." He looked annoyed, and his fingers began tapping restlessly of the desk top as he sat down again.

"Actually, I now remember myself that it was closer to three years."

The king nodded solemnly. "You have given me much to ponder, Michael of York. Leave, now, and thank you for coming." I began bowing my way out. He added something as I was maneuvering to open the door without turning around. "Michael . . . of York . . . of impressive human ancestry." The door started to close. "A king has so little opportunity for amusement."

I'd just been insulted by a king!



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Cherry, do you like dances?" Baslon demanded abruptly after sitting gloomily in her sitting room for half an hour.

"Sometimes, no, but sometimes a ball can be very entertaining," she answered, putting a finger in the book she had resumed after two minutes of apprehension.

He scowled, slouching in his chair and muttering, "Oblivion."

"Language, language," Cherry chided. "Why do you ask?"

"You'll find out soon enough," he growled.

Cherry looked briefly thoughtful, then amused. Baslon abruptly sat perpendicular. "'Celebration of initiation'? What does he seriously think I'll conclude about that?"

"Don't you ever read my mind, Cherry Amano Tudor!" Baslon roared, lunging up. Purple eyes wide, she shoved her chair back then darted around it. Not entirely meaning it, he forcefully sat back down and gruffly remarked, "I'm sorry for yelling at you, Cherry. Please, resume your seat."

"If you say so," she responded, and folded her arms across the back of her chair, eyeing him warily.

"Cherry, I . . ." he began, then shook his head fretfully. "No."

"I suppose I should apologize, too," she commented. "Sorry for alarming you. It's just that you've never objected to it before."

He raised his head wearily. "Cherry, what are you talking about?"

"You never noticed before." She pondered that for a moment. "Maybe you only do when I do yamur consciously. I suppose I should break the habit?"

"You can read my mind without me sensing it?" he gasped.

Cherry looked slightly embarrassed. "You just did. But, well, yes."

"What about other vampires? What about faeries, weres and angels?"

Cherry became even more distressed. "Everyone I've come into contact with either did not notice or was too polite to mention it. It makes the occasional encounter with a poltergeist very uncomfortable at first."

"You can read a poltergeist's mind safely!" Baslon whispered with near reverence.

"I just do it automatically to everyone, and generally forget just as quickly. That's easiest on my head."

"Oh, gods, Cherry. Sril and Yama." He ran a hand uneasily through his hair. "Do you know what Father would do if he knew you could do that?" Cherry nodded. "Does your mother know?"

"I don't know."

"I think . . . Cherry, I'm going to just forget about this. Don't remind me."

"I won't. Not while you look that terrible, at any rate." She grinned at me over her shoulder and so did not see Baslon frown at her. I edged a little further behind her from the side. "So I assume your brother will be stopping by with an invitation."

"In a few days, probably. I don't know. Don't you?"

She dimpled at him innocently. "I thought you were going to forget about my trivial eccentricity." He put his head in his hands, nodding. "Besides, I haven't seen him recently."

"Well, that's good for something, I suppose." He brooded for a while longer, until Cherry sat down and started reading again. "Would you like to get out?"

Cherry glanced up anew, somewhat alarmed. "Out?"

"For a few days. Only a short trip. I need to get away from all those guards and officials and subservient nobles, and this is the only place in the palace I can. I just thought that perhaps you would like to get away, too, and not stay shut up here. And, yes, Michael can come, too!" Cherry shut her mouth and seemed to ignore the half-hearted glare directed towards me.

"It sounds like the courts in England and the rest of Europe," she ventured, suprising Baslon. "Of course, they usually let me alone if I had a suitable escort, especially when we weren't on Warelnen. That wouldn't be so likely here. . . . Very well. I'll come."

Baslon jumped up. "Let's go!"

Cherry startled. "Now?"

"Now! I'll show you a back door. Father will be furious with me. You, of course, are free of all liability." He caught up her hand and started to tug her towards the door, suddenly smiling. Cherry dug her heels into the carpet and snatched her hand back. Baslon turned around restlessly. "What's wrong, Cherry? I don't really care where we go, as long as I'm getting away, you're not left alone, and there's shelter in the daytime. But I particularly do want to leave as quickly as possible."

Cherry made an impolite face at him. "And, Baslon, I don't want to be manhandled, I don't want to wear a dress, and what happens if I decide I want to get in trouble?" she retorted.

"Well . . . well, change your clothes and hurry up. You can't get in trouble; you're my ward and with me. Anything you do is my responsibility. Why would you want to? Hurry up! They'll stop us if they find out." Cherry made a placating gesture with one hand, and her clothing shimmered and slowly opalesced into a brown tunic and breeches. I gaped at her. She had changed incredibly from the time at the stables, the last time she had worn such improper clothes.

"Now, hurry!" Baslon exclaimed distractedly, not noticing the strange magic and indeed almost hopping on one foot.

"Baslon," Cherry pondered, "how many people outside this room know of your plans?"

"No one, but . . ."

"And how many people in this castle besides your relatives are likely to try to stop you?"

"No one, unless Father's sent for me or your mother's here."

"Pray, don't mention such unpleasantries. Now, isn't it unlikely that we should encounter one of those four people?"

"Er . . . well. . . ."

"Do I need to make myself any more plain?"

"No, but I want to get out as fast as possible!"

"How many people are likely to report such unusual behavior on your part, Baslon? Would such a report make your father send for you? Are there any other thoughts you may have overlooked in your haste, like supplies? Perhaps a destination would be a good idea, and a period of time, or even a purpose. Running away always seems so cowardly. Try 'running to.' What else should I not have to mention?"





"Cherry, do you read my mind?" I asked sleepily.

"Of course I do, Michael. It's a very strong habit. Or rather, I do whenever you're thinking."

"Well, then, what am I thinking now?"

She made an exasperated noise. "You doubt me? Humans! Michael, you are trying to disapprove of my outfit without saying anything about it, while actually approving for the most disgusting reasons, so that I'd really rather you stopped looking at me," she returned tartly. I blushed furiously, and for once, upon seeing me, she did not chuckle.

"Well, what about Baslon?" I asked. "Does that mean you trust him more than me?"

"Him, too, but he has better control, and he doesn't stare the way you do. No, I trust you more, because I know I'm stronger than you."

How comforting! Now Cherry was starting to doubt I was a gentleman!



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Ball. Teran has a ball. He is very deboinair, and Cherry is a little bit taken in. Baslon rants a bit, then comes to an impromptu decision to . . . ? Cherry is very amused. Teran gets back with a 'quiet, family dinner,' during which the emphasis is on vampires not eating.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



The door banged open, and I jumped up in alarm, staring at Teran's angry face. Cherry's head snapped up, and her eyes shifted nervously. She slowly stood up, squared her shoulders, lifted her head at a proud angle, and swept a brief curtsey. "Good night, my Lord. What brings you here?"

I held my breath as the vampire eyed her suspiciously. There was a time in which the only sound in the world seemed to be the beating of my heart before Teran decided she was not mocking him. "You." He glanced at me and dismissed me as having no potential to be troublesome. "Come to me."

Cherry froze an instant too long. She was still taking a slow first step back when the snake darted towards her and seized her by the chin, forcing her head up. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her hands at her sides were clenched into fists. The vampire stared down at her, tilted his head to examine the bite marks on her neck, and studied her face. "You age with abnormal speed, your Highness. One would never believe you aren't even thirteen years old without prior knowledge of the fact." He considered her while she refused to answer, then apparently grew impatient and leaned down to crush his lips against hers. The kiss was brief. Teran flung Cherry away from him with a bellowed curse, wiping blood away from his mouth. Cherry smiled malignantly, showing a tinge of red on her teeth, before she sat down again and carefully rearranged her skirts.

"If I may inquire, my Lord, where is your brother?" she asked calmly.

"You bit me!" he raged.

Cherry looked surprised that he mentioned it and disgusted at the memory. "You put your tongue in my mouth!"

Teran glowered at Cherry with a hand over his mouth, then rushed forward to seize her wrist and drag her to her feet in order to deal her a harsh blow across the mouth. I was paralyzed in astonishment. Cherry stumbled and permitted a low cry to escape her. "You are going to pay for that, girl, and all the other pains and humiliation you have caused me, and then I will marry you and make your precious master pay as well!"

"I have no master!" Cherry snapped, ducking under another blow.

"And don't expect any help. Baslon and Queen Vrenkley and Father are at a state meeting, and Mother is guarding the door against intruders. No one else even knows of your presence here. You are going to receive a proper thrashing for once, and then I'll show you to your new quarters."

"I don't need help, and you are not going to touch me!" Cherry hissed, and shouted as he struck her on the side of her head. I finally got my inert muscles to move, and was between the monster and Cherry before I had thought, and was trying my best to punch him in the nose. Something as hard as metal clipped my ear, and then ten burning digits were searing my throat in strangling grip. Cherry was shouting something, and the hands at my neck were jerked away. I was kicked out of the way. I tried blearily to open my eyes, seeing a bright flash of light cross the room that accompanied a blast of heat. Teran roared, and Cherry's scream was abrupt and cut off. When I could see well again, she was hanging as limp as a rag where Teran held her by neck. I stumbled to my feet and made a croaking sound that was meant to be a shout of defiance. Cherry wiggled and stared at me in confusion, reaching one hand to her throat but not trying to get free. Teran started to turn at my noise, and Cherry hurriedly tried to distract him.

"Alan Amano," she whispered, "sa durai . . . alan Yama, sa nichyvo. Wano i Winea, wan duril . . ." She broke of when Teran shook her violently. She looked ready to faint and switched back to Latin. "No more."

Teran shook her again, this time rather gently as such things go. "Now, now, I can't let you go unpunished for all the things you've done to me, can I? It sets a bad example. If you beg properly, I might let you off lightly."

Cherry's face was white with mixed fury and fear, and her feet groped helplessly for purchase in the empty air. Her eyes were purple wishing wells, bottomless and brimful of despair. Her lips moved soundlessly and probably meaninglessly.

"Be quiet," he advised her. "I'll give you your chance when we get to my apartments. However, I think it best you be properly leashed as we go through the castle." Quickly stepping through the living room and dining room and into the hall, he set Cherry down and addressed a person outside quietly. Cherry's long legs crumpled under her. She glanced back at me and shook her head as I stumbled towards her, but I ignored it. I was not going to leave her alone when she was in that state. I touched her shoulder lightly. Cherry looked away, covering her mouth with one hand and her eyes with the other. There was a rattle, and Cherry stared with blank incomprehension at the chain Teran was holding with impatience. "Well? Stand up, or I'll drag you up to the topmost tower, weight you down with ten anvils, and let you drop." Behind Teran a woman, the one who looked so much like a statue, was smirking at her in satisfaction. Cherry raised her hands in a placating manner and slowly got to her feet. I straightened also. First a pair of manacles were put on her wrists, and she trembled. As the chain was wrapped around her neck, forcing her to bend her back, she began to keen softly. Teran put an end to that with a sharp tug on the chain, ending the drawn out wail in a hiccup.

"No," she whispered suddenly. "Please. I'll behave. Please! My Lord Teran, please do not chain me!"

He struck her across the mouth. "I told you to be quiet! You will have your chance to beg. Obey me, or you will be punished."

He turned away and walked off. Cherry hesitated, but was forced to continue by the chains. Tearfully, she hunched over trying to disappear. "Cherry?" I whispered to her, and studied the chains. The manacles were well and securely locked, but those around her neck was only loosely looped. I reached for them to remove them.

"No!" she whispered quickly. "Michael, don't touch it. And don't bring attention to yourself. You could have stayed behind. Now they'll likely just ignore you unless you trouble them."

"It's wonderful to know I'm such a help," I whispered back. "I can not leave you alone if you're helpless yourself. Cherry, you could just take the links of your neck yourself, if you wanted to. Why won't you let me?"

"He's testing me," she said miserably. "And trying to break my spirit. The under-prince would know in an instant if I tried to get free. There's no point." I stared at her worriedly. The Cherry I knew never gave up. Tears sparkled down her cheeks, white flashed where her teeth were bared in a rictus silent snarl, and my heart was breaking.

"Everything will be all right in the end," I whispered quickly. "I promise, Cherry. I won't let anything happen to you. You're trembling!" I tried to put a comforting arm over her shoulders, but she shrugged me off. I gazed at her worriedly, then slowly realized that she was laughing! She was nearly dying from fear of being chained, she was weeping blood and being forced to breathe flame, and she was expending whatever energy she had stored in her depths to stumble along after the person hold her leash and to silently, hysterically laugh at me! "Oh, God," I said to myself. "I hope I haven't just made her go permanently insane."

We continued along many corridors I had seen before and many that were new to me, Cherry quietly tumbling into complete derangement, Teran and his mother quietly conversing, and me quietly worrying about Cherry and the future. The rooms we eventually came to were not nearly as remote as those assigned to Cherry, but torches and guards were few there, and the servants hurrying by were in widely spaced groups. The rooms themselves had a grand double-door opening onto a parlor decorated largely in polished wood of a multitude of colors. Teran glanced around, then looked at his mother questionably.

"The bedroom, I think," he suggested.

The Queen studied Cherry and spared a glance for me. Cherry made a pitiful figure. Her blue gown was torn and bloodied, bruises were forming most places that skin showed, her head was bent and shoulders bowed. "Perhaps it would be best," Teran's mother agreed.

The bedroom was dominated by the bed, and was an abundance of crimson and dark blue. Cherry stood in that room and was almost consumed by the colors so camouflaging her. I still hovered immediately by her shoulder or I might have lost her. Teran and his mother were still discussing off by the door, having jerked Cherry to the middle of the room. I could not hear their words.

"Cherry, can't you do something? I thought I saw a . . . a fireball?"

She hiccupped and sniffed. "Not so soon after that last, and these chains are iron and silver." She lifted her head enough to see my face. "Made and spelled to suppress magic. Well, Michael, now you're good and trapped, and it's all your fault. I warned you. Hide, Michael. You're good at hiding. Hide. If you can't think, hide. Think, Cherry!" She put her face in her hands.

"Cherry, I said I wouldn't leave you."

Cherry tried to stand up straight, but the chains prevented her. Her fists clenched in a helpless fury. "Michael. If you will not take advice, then I am ordering you. Hide!" She turned to stare at the two vampires, deliberately not looking at me so as to not see where I went. They had their backs to us, and Teran had dropped the free length of chain. Cherry could have tried to make a break for it, or at least taken off the collar, but she seemed dead. I opened my mouth, closed it, and swiftly glanced around the room. Choosing a table with a long, thick lace cloth the color of blood covering it, I hid to watch.

The Queen and her son seemed to be disagreeing about something. They gestured emphatically. Finally Teran left her in disgust and walked slowly across the room to Cherry with a cruel smile. She could not have seen him when he stopped, but she did not look up when he addressed her. "Your Highness."

"My Lord," she said quietly. Her plumage seemed to droop still further.

"You have burned me, bit me, hit me, and spurned me." Cherry did not respond to that. "You have cut me and disobeyed me, caused great discomfort and distress in my life, and are a danger and a menace to this castle's society. You have nothing to say?"

"No, my Lord." She trembled.

"What, nothing? Nothing to answer all these charges? My mother feels that we should kill you. I have said you will have your chance to beg. Do you intend to throw it away and die?"

"My Lord Teran," Cherry said, raising her hands and head, "I must beg of you to unchain me. Please."

"Is that all? Don't be ridiculous! I like my bedroom with you as an ornament. Perhaps I'll have a pedestal made for you to stand on for me to admire. Until then, you may have free service of this room. But if I catch you out of it, I shall give your charge to my mother." He glowered at Cherry threateningly. "For now, go lay on the bed."

"No."

Teran's expression turned to thunderclouds in a heartbeat. "What!"

Cherry's head poised itself with arrogance and hostility, and her eyes flashed furiously. "My Lord Teran," she said with precise condescension, "under-prince of vampires," her lip curled in humorless mockery, "Baronet of this floor and wing of the castle, you are a zombie." She paused to dart away from another heavy swing of a fist, then lifted her delicate wrists, weighed down by so much metal, and displayed hands tipped by ragged, dangerous fingernails. "I am the daughter of the Queen of Cirala-Mnerecros lathen-drolel, High Priestess of the Creators. And I do believe the crown prince of all supernatural will order a search when he discovers I am missing, and is likely to come here first."

"She's right," put in the Queen. "She'll have to be silenced, or she's likely to go shrieking to him the moment our backs are turned." Cherry hissed sharply, and they both turned to stare at her unnervingly. She glared back.

"Easily taken care of," said Teran as he started toward her. Cherry took one look at his eyes, then rushed him in a controlled mania, shouting and scratching and kicking and biting. It was over before either the Queen or I could move. Teran was doubled over with one arm crossing his groin in pain, and Cherry had been knocked out. Teran cursed at considerable length in Latin and at least one other language I did not recognize before standing upright again. His mother rushed forward to comfort him. I prayed silently to the one God for Cherry's safety.

With the slow abeyance of his pain, Teran glared at his mother, who assumed humility and backed away from him. He then glared at Cherry, lifted her up, and glanced around, then placed her on the bed. He bent over her neck, and I immediately shouted as loud as I could in protest. Teran looked quickly around in annoyance.

"I forgot we had a witness," he muttered. "Mother, dispose of it."

"Of course," she said, smiling crookedly. She seemed to flow over to my hiding place, and I scrambled out, not much wanting to be dragged and no longer seeing any need to stay hidden. "I'll take him down to the dungeons and let the torturers play with him," she continued languidly. "I find I am not extremely hungry just now."

"Whatever," snapped Teran. "Just remove it from the premises, and yourself with it."

She put a lazy hand with iron strength under my chin and forced my head up. I snapped my eyes closed. "What a pretty boy! Teran, what exactly is a human doing in this castle?"

"I don't know. Mother, I gave you an order."

"Yes, my son, but remember that you are not yet a king. Come along, human, don't make me angry." She dropped my face and seized my wrist.

"Why?" I whispered

"Now, now, human, no questions." She gave my arm a little shake and dragged me again into the vast network of the halls of the castle.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



I huddled in the small cell amidst a mass of my own mess, vaguely hearing the people outside talking about how humans were so weak, they did not dare do more to me lest I die prematurely. The queen of vampires was having 'fun' with her new toy, and she wanted to see everything that could be done to it. It could not have been much more than two days after I had been made to leave Cherry, but I was sure it had been weeks. Many magics had been worked upon me. These torturers did not make use of physical instruments. They were those who understood the minds of their victims, and played with them. I might have been fortunate to be human. I got off easy because of their ignorance.

Then the voices were stopped. I paid it little attention until the door to my cell opened, and then simply wondered if I would soon be feeling more pain. Someone looked me over. The queen's voice said, somewhere far away, petulantly, "He's my human. You can't have him. I'm not finished yet."

The someone said, "I'm sorry, your Majesty, but that contradicts the king's orders. I shall have to report your presence, of course. It would be best if you simply came with me."

"You have no right to order me!"

"Of course. Your accompanying of me was merely a suggestion. However, I am required to bring the human. As soon as I have examined all the other cells, you two there will pick him up and follow me." The two creatures who had tortured me while the queen watched obeyed him. I was brought to a room and laid on a sofa for interrogation.

Baslon looked disgusted as he leaned over me. "Where is Cherry?" he demanded in a hoarse whisper. I babbled something, I know not what. "Oblivion," Baslon snapped, turning away from me. "He's delirious," he told his father.

"Cherry," I mumbled, and wondered if I really was delirious. I did not think so. Things seemed to fly in and out of my field of vision.

"Then send for a healer, son," said the king, who then addressed a servant. "Where is Teran? Isn't he found yet?"

"No, your Majesty." She went on to explain the circumstances of my discovery while Baslon sent off another menial, presumably for a healer. I briefly tried to sit up, then decided that would be unwise should it cause me to pass out.

"Mother?" exclaimed Baslon.

"Prince Baslon, be quiet!" said the king. "I am holding you at least partially responsible for the disappearance of the princess!"

"But, Father," Baslon cried, "don't you know that this human is never willingly away from Cherry? What was Mother doing with him? You know how she feels about her human son!"

"Baslon," said the king, "temperate yourself. Do not mock the zombies with their former species. He is your brother, and you will treat him as a valuable future vassal. Is that understood?"

"I understand," snapped Baslon. He was very annoyed with his father. "Michael, can you talk yet? Where is Cherry?"

"Baslon, if he can't talk yet, you won't have much luck forcing him."

"Sril, Father, what if she's hurt?

His fathers voice came, heavy but patient. "If she is, then I will give the cause to Queen Vrenkley, who is excellently equipped to punish. You will not stain your hands with the matter."

"But, Father, Cherry's . . ."

"Be silent now, Baslon."

I tested my brain and tried my tongue and found them more willing to work together than before. "I don't know where Cherry is," I said thickly.

Baslon whirled on me before his father could speak. "No? Then tell us everything you know that could help us find her. Everything."

I hesitated, then gave a halting but detailed account of recent events.

"There!" Baslon exclaimed. "Mother was involved!" His tone changed from satisfaction to worry. "Will you now order them both here? Is a human's word good enough?"

"I would not have ordered him found if I did not think so." Baslon's mouth fell open. "Think, son! Did you think the squire just happened to bring him here?"

Baslon shrugged uncomfortably and turned back to me while his father called in a servant. "Michael was . . . was she hurt very badly?"

"I don't know . . . I think no single injury was serious, but there were so many of them . . ."

His fists clenched, and he pounded furiously at the air for a short time, then swiveled toward the king. "Father, I want a hand in torturing Teran."

"No, Baslon. I do not want you involved. The princess and her mother will manage restitution."

"But, Father, she is my ward under your law, but no longer her mothers under the elven laws. Teran broke faith with our co-protection and custody, and I intend to keep Cherry innocent."

The king sighed heavily. "A poor choice of words, Baslon. It has been two days. What do you expect? Also, she is a rather attractive female." Baslon opened his mouth soundlessly and clutched a hand at his throat. I nearly tumbled back into delirium.

"He wouldn't dare!" Baslon squeaked.

"No? What have you been saying about your brother for the past two days, other than denouncing your relationship?"

"No! I'll kill him! Oblivion!"

"Baslon, you will wait for the due process of the law!"

"Oh, Oblivion and Mnere, Father! And I'll go there if Cherry's dead! Obscrond and Mirange, so will Teran, very slowly! Obscrond i Mirange, Sril i Yama, Eowan i Bartch, Mith, Wilmaya, i Lath, i Amano! Tanda Krrss!"

"Watch your language!" the king snapped, then quickly pulled in his own leash. "You must never permit your subjects to see you so angry."

"If it gets their attention and help for Cherry, I'll curse the gods to Oblivion or Home! I'll give myself up for Ilmnere for Cherry!"

"Baslon, I will not permit the prince of all deongrah to make a fool out of himself over a half human! There will be no foolishness on your part. I doubt the gods would accept such a sacrifice, anyway. You will wait, and the under prince and queen will be brought to trial." I turned my head to see him sit down at a desk. I was in another study, smaller and built more to put people at ease for meeting than for terse political business. Mentally I felt along my body. There seemed to be several bruises, but I was relatively untouched, with the exception of the shoulder that the queen had sprained herself. These supernatural torturers had very little business with the physical. I decided that if I waited just a bit longer and concentrated, I might be able to stand. Possibly Baslon was more hurt physically than I was. He had a surprising tendency to take his aggression out on inanimate objects while in his king and father's presence.

I made the effort and put my hands on my knees to keep myself upright. "Your Majesty, what is going to happen?" I dared to ask.

"Nothing!" snapped Baslon, glaring at his father.

The king's lips compressed slightly. "The princess elven at Cirala will be located with all speed. She will be attended by any she wishes, and consulted as to action. Whatever information she chooses to give to the mind readers will judge punishment. You are not a suitable witness, you understand. We cannot have an execution on simply our current information."

"We should!" injected Baslon, but upon receiving a quelling look he returned to manual assault of a bench propped upright against the wall.

"Material compensation should satisfy the elven queen, and giving her the right to administer justice will quiet critics. You yourself should receive some small award for your attempts, probably taken from the property of my wife and her son. Baslon will remain silent in regard to his opinions on the affair, unless Princess Cherry expresses specific wishes that he participate."

"I'll ask her for a description of human interrogatory tactics," put in Baslon.

"I know them better than she does," I said. "The wheel, for example." I silenced myself as the king doled out firm quiescence to us both. I stared at my hands in humble silence until a knock sounded. A red-haired elf was admitted. He looked questioningly around as he bowed.

"Tend to the human, Healer Roumlie," said the king brusquely, startling him. "Michael, if you remember anything else, you must tell us."

"Of course."

The man eyed Baslon's fists professionally. If the splinters came to the king's attention, he would soon have a second patient.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Queen Arada was found swiftly, but it was at least another day before two people in chains were brought into the little study. Baslon and I were instantly in attendance, but the elven healer sent us to the other side of the room, carefully had her lay down on the couch I had used the previous night, and began a thorough examination. The king was the only one patient.

"Your Highness," said Healer Roumlie as he produced a carefully controlled blue fire between two fingers to burn through the metal handcuffs Cherry's rescuers had been unable to remove. "You are part pixy. I hope the captivity itself has not killed you."

Teran looked surprised, and glared back at Baslon. He tried to ignore that he was now bound, and no one was likely to cut the manacles off of him.

"I'm all right," she said. "Oh, I'm dead, I assure you. You may leave me alone." She uttered a gasp that might have been meant as a laugh. "Just let me be." She shrank into the couch.

"'All right'?" the healer mocked. "I'm surprised you managed to walk at all. They shouldn't have let you."

The king of the vampires looked at the imp and the devil who had brought her in. The devil spread his hands, leaving the imp to explain. "She would not let us, your Majesty. We found them in the north tower. He had the princess trussed up like a fly, and heavy chain it was. We put some of it on him, but after we'd got most o' the stuff off, she slipped out o' the rest and o' the door, and we found her at the bottom of the stairs, sort of crying. Nalol and me tried to help her up, but she shoved us off. We kept her between us the whole way here, but she didn't cry any more, and if she fell she just got back up by the wall."

"You walked all the way from the north tower in this condition!" exclaimed the healer. "Your Highness, your mother will have my head if you die in my care!"

"So become a phantom," Cherry said. "Or don't tell her. Stand in that corner." She tried to point, then stared at the hand that would not obey her. The healer tried to feel the pulse at her throat, and Cherry instantly shrieked, "Don't touch me!" The healer quickly backed into a corner.

"Cherry!" Baslon and I both exclaimed. We each took a step forward, but Cherry flung her arms over her head and burrowed her body behind the pillows meant to support her torso and neck. I hesitated, wishing I could help and knowing I could not. Baslon pivoted to Teran. "Beast! What did you do to her?" He did not answer.

"Er . . ." put forth the devil. "Highness . . . I think not as much as he would've liked. The princess there, and she's a lovely girl, your Highness, I think she made his privates real uncomfterble."

This was faint satisfaction to Baslon, who disliked the reminder of this possibility and would have loved to do something to someone living. Provoking him was unwise, even with all the precautions the devil used, and the king interrupted with a firm, "That is enough. Nalol and Ronraus, fetch the queen, and then you may return to your duties." The two quickly bowed their way out. "Baslon, sit down." His body tautly focused on his brother, Baslon grudgingly sat in a chair next to Cherry's head. "Healer, you may sit also." The elf took the chair at the other end of the couch. The king looked at me next, but I did not wait to be told, and sat on the twin of the demolished bench, so I was looking directly across the room at Cherry. "Prince Teran, you will remain standing. Princess Cherry, please make an attempt to control yourself."

Cherry sat up and looked around wildly. "I . . . I'm hungry."

For some reason, they all glanced at me. I jumped up and made all haste for a kitchen. If someone stopped me, all I had to do was give my errand, "Cherry's hungry," and there was nothing they could not do for me. I was able to bring back a large selection of delicate dishes. When I returned to the study, Cherry was sitting again and seemed to have followed the king's advice. The vampire queen was in the room, standing next to her older son. The king nodded his approval to me, but Cherry did not make a move to touch the food. Her eyes were as wide as a deer's. Baslon had moved his chair closer to her, leaning forward and sending an occasional dark message towards Teran with his eyes. The couch looked more like a sickbed now. After we all waited for a tense moment, I said, "Cherry, please?" and she glanced at me, looked guilty, and began to nibble on a sweetbread. Now that her face was so blank, Baslon looked like agony.

"Your Highness," said the king, "suppose you tell me what happened so I can relay a message to your mother."

Cherry looked up at him, then glanced behind her at the doorway. "Could you please open the door?"

"It is easier to ensure privacy that way," the king said.

"Majesty," murmured the healer. "It might be best . . . you know how the faeries and sprites react to being imprisoned."

The king nodded to me. I wondered if I should be annoyed. I was, after all, the oldest son of an earl, but I opened the door.

"Highness," continued the king, "I think you might be stalling. I promise you that your mother will be summoned shortly, but I think, given the circumstances, she should not be brought into your presence for some time."

Cherry stared at the bread and dropped it back on the tray. "I don't want Mother to know anything." She looked at him. "You know Mother." She shuddered. Baslon tried to pat her shoulder, and she reflexively tried to bite him, then tried to edge further away. "Nothing happened," she muttered.

"What?!"

"Nothing happened!"

"Cherry, Teran kidnapped you!"

"You can't prove that. You can't prove that anything happened against my will. Any of you. Teran couldn't incriminate himself if he wanted to if I don't cooperate. I have a headache. You're all thinking . . . thinking . . . making me listen to your thoughts. I don't want to see Mother. Nothing happened, unless I get to go home to Father." She grimaced. "Back to England . . . and churches . . . and Catholics . . . and witch burnings. I told you I was dead, and I'll kill anyone who touches me!"

"Father," gasped Baslon.

The king, who looked utterly bewildered by Cherry's pronouncement, nodded to his only child.

"There is a human, who might not be entirely human, Samuel of the house of Tudor. He's a native of the island Warrelnen, as far as is known, and is an ambassador to those humans who live nearest us. He may be currently living in the large city they call Bucharest. Can you see if he is? And if a message might reach him?"

"Of course. I'll see if someone can be found willing to go among humans. Little princess, if you are certain you wish for . . . for no person to come to harm, we cannot force you to give evidence. Are you certain that you are unharmed?"

She curled in on herself, hissing with weird laughter. "If he'd raped me, you would have found me dead, and a human's and a giant's curse would dog this entire castle for eternity, and I can curse powerfully. I can not stay in this cage. I am quite able to fend for myself. Mother doesn't know, does she?"

"No. I thought it best to give her the entire story at one time."

"I want to go home."

Baslon made as if to hug her, but caught himself. His face twisted in fascinating gyrations. The king beckoned the healer to him and talked quietly for a short period of time. Teran and Arada looked measurelessly relieved, but not in the least grateful to their benefactress. I kept to myself, my arms wrapped tight around myself, wondering if I could ever feel properly again. There was sickness running along my limbs, and I was neither sorry for Cherry, nor happy for her that she might go home, nor worried for my own sake. Perhaps, I told myself, something will come later.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Nothing happened.

One brave demon was sent to Bucharest. Cherry waited with vague impatience for his return. She had a frequently feverish face and would allow no one, especially a man, to touch her. Her eyes would glaze over in the midst of a conversation, and she would ball up, covering herself with her arms and tearing at her skin, especially the wrists. The wretched woman was not well.

"Cherry, calm down," I begged.

"I don't feel like it," she retorted petulantly. "I'm going home, and then, I don't know, maybe we'll go back to Russia. Russia was nice. You'll be dumped back in your parent's care, and I'll never have to see you again!" She chortled. I felt my face grow long.

"I'm still your squire," I said suddenly. "Are you going to tell them that I haven't conducted myself properly? They won't take me back, otherwise."

Cherry scowled at me. "If you turn into a goat, I won't."

I crossed myself. She snorted indelicately.

"It has been two weeks," she muttered. "That's time enough. I want . . . Am I spoiled, Michael?"

"I don't think so," I said. I wanted to pat her on the shoulder, but lately Cherry did not like to be touched.

She clenched one hand into a fist. "Michael, go find Baslon."

I blinked in surprise. "But . . ."

"I want to talk to him. It's been two weeks!" Cherry growled deep in her throat. "Out. Now!" I scurried for the door.

I quickly got lost. After considerable wandering, a servant spotted me and inquired the reason for my presence. I tried to avoid thinking about his horns and tufted tail, and stated my errand.

His eyes widened slightly, I suspect in disapproval of my failing to give them titles. "If you would follow me, my Lord," he said, turning and walking quickly. I treaded after him. For a while, we retraced my steps, and then took strange paths that gradually grew more familiar. Eventually we reached the great outer doors, and he gestured elegantly towards them. "His Highness is with his Majesty. They are alone."

The creature left me. I struggled helplessly with one of the doors for a short time, then desisted. It was simply too titanic. Exhausted, all that was left to me was to wonder what Cherry would say if I returned a failure. It was unpleasant pensiveness. Abdicating that line of thought, I instead concentrated on what I would tell Baslon when I did find him.

The door began to creak open, and I quickly moved away from its path. With ten people to each side of the double door, it was slowly moved all the way open. Baslon and his father were only alone in the sense that no courtiers were with them. Their entourage consisted of about fifty servants and guards. The king saw me first, raised an eyebrow, and gestured towards me with a word to his son. Baslon looked, frowned, shook his head, and then approached me. "What are you lurking about for?" he hissed.

"Cherry wants to talk to you," I whispered back.

He made a sharp gesture and then controlled himself quickly. "What, now?"

"I either return with you or lurk elsewhere in your castle."

"I'm busy," he snapped with a harsh set to his mouth and strained points between his eyes. "You shouldn't be wandering around. Is she trying to get me in trouble?" I started to shake my head. "Never mind, I know the answer. Just dust yourself off, and follow along. If I can come later, I'll do so."

I looked down at myself and realized that many of those passages must not have seen domestic in ages. It was no wonder the servant had been so doubtful of me. My clothes, which had been replaced only rarely in past years, were covered with a brown layer. Self-consciously, I started brushing at my tunic and hose, Baslon returning to his father stiffly. The king spared a brief nod for me.

"Is there any word from Dendra-over-the-ocean?" he asked a secretary.

"Only that warring continues and repeated requests for your Majesty to name this or that claimant regent. Some of the northern humans are becoming somewhat short of food, and they cannot support any, but certain groups are attempting to involve them nevertheless."

"Food shortage? That must be stopped. Write the major factions to the effect that whoever is most effective in a layer of peace will have my support and the support of my legions. Oh, and send the Elegar there. They're to remain unobtrusive until it looks like none will make the first move. What about Queen Vrenkley?" I listened a bit more attentively.

"Her Majesty is not changing her tune to any great amount. She is pressing somewhat less. Ah . . . his Highness might know something about it." Baslon's pale cheeks suddenly acquired a shade of red.

"Baslon?" the king demanded sharply.

"Your Majesty, the elven queen merely wished to talk with me."

"You'll not keep secrets from me in this matter, Baslon. There has been too much of that recently."

"I just . . ." He caught himself and sighed. "Her Royal Majesty was very interested in learning the exact nature of the relationship between her Highness and me."

"Baslon, I hope you didn't say anything that might be construed as promising. . . ."

Baslon grimaced. "Don't worry, Father. She thinks that Cherry is comfortably lodged here of her own will, and she is very happy at that, but distressed that I show very little interest."

"Baslon, your manners are beginning to deteriorate," the king said tightly. I suddenly felt a little better at my own situation.

Baslon's voice was even tenser than his father's. "I apologize, your Majesty, for interrupting. However, to continue, her Majesty was somewhat insulting with her repeated comments on Ch . . . her Highness's appearance. I made it quite plain that I am keeping a slight distance between us, and also took the liberty of mentioning the possibility of her returning to England. I did not know how to couch that appropriately, but if her Highness intends to leave very shortly, the queen would think it odd she has not heard about the trip. She was accommodating enough to then return the conversation to matrimony." Throughout his narrative, Baslon's complexion grew closer and closer to the shade of Cherry's. I wondered if this nonsense made any sense to them.

"I suppose she will have to be dealt with," mused the king.

"It would be an advantageous match," ventured Baslon.

The king frowned at him. "Too advantageous for Queen Vrenkley. I will not consider it unless we have some way of putting her down at the same time. What of the grain taxes? Are they beginning to arrive?"

It went on in this manner, the king bringing up a topic, recieving an answer, and sometimes some discussion or a lecture for Baslon coming before his Majesty made a decision, even if it was only to wait.

I grew bored with waiting.

When the king finally dismissed Baslon, several of the servants stayed behind. Baslon loitered in the hallway until his father was out of sight, then curtly dismissed all but one of them. I caught grimaces on a few faces.

Then Baslon turned to me and said with quiet emphasis, "All right, Michael, we will go to talk with Cherry now." He strode off swiftly through the corridors. The other creature followed him, ignoring me. I trudged behind, still brushing at dust and finding spiderwebs on my sleeves.

"I will call for you in a moment," he said outside of the room. The person shrugged and leaned against a wall, folding his arms. They both gave me cold looks when I went in ahead of Prince Baslon. I tried smiling innocently. That dropped the temperature to glacial degrees, so I hurried to the living room.

"Cherry, Baslon's here," I announced breathlessly.

"Already," she muttered from the hearth. The fire leapt about in fantastic colors and fanciful designs.

"Why are you sitting there?" I asked. It was about as far from Baslon's usual seat as a person could get without obstructing the view. It was where I usually sat.

Cherry opened her mouth, but Baslon spoke from the doorway first. "Cherry Amano Tudor, your presumption was not appreciated."

Cherry winced, curling up on herself and closing her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

Baslon flinched even more and hurried forward. "No, no, no, no, Cherry, it's all right. Michael just interrupted Father, and he. . . ." He supressed his advancement upon being forcefully reminded of Cherry's recent fright. She leaned back nearly to the point of her hair catching fire, her eyes squeezed shut and a small whimper echoing eerily in the room. A flicker of acrimony passed swiftly over his face. "Cherry," he began more soothingly, remaining a good six paces away, "it's all right. No one will hurt you. Everything's all right."

She peeked at him. "Are you sure?" Cherry whispered. "How can everything be 'all right'? Why should I believe you? You said I could go home, I think. Didn't you? Where's my father, Baslon? And Uncle Jasper and Uncle Edmund and Seargent Hill, and everyone else? They're all far, far away. There's only Mother, and she left, and then she tried to burn me up, and she's still trying." Cherry giggled harshly. "No one knew I was so scared, did they? I'm half-human, so mother had to make me be even stronger than most to be queen, as if she ever intends to suicide! I walked through fire, after listening to the priests yell at me about the fires of hell that were surely in my future. So I walked through fire, and now there's no reason for any more fire, right? Fires dance, Baslon. I had a dream about you dancing with fire. It ate you, and someone was sad. There was a god. I have a lot of dreams. One . . ."

"Cherry, Cherry, there's word of your father," Baslon interrupted desperately.

". . . had green eyes. And there was a dragon somewhere, and a cat, and an arrow. A rose was falling towards the sea, but it ran away first. And I was an apple instead of a cherry, and there weren't any other apples on the tree, just a lot of withered flowers. The phantoms bowed to me, and one of them turned into a human gave me eternal life, so it doesn't matter that I'm half-human, and the phantom also cursed me. And Father died. So you see, there can't be any news, because I already know." She stared at Baslon with earnest, purple eyes, the ends of her red locks draped over the flaming wood.

"Oh, gods," Baslon muttered, holding his head in his hands. "Cherry," he said gently, then more sharply, "Cherry!" She snatched her dabbling fingers out of a brilliant purple fire, letting it become orange again. "Stand up." She stood, kicking restlessly at her skirts. "Come here, Cherry," he said, backing towards a chair. She walked up to him and stood, looking at him with a curious expression. Putting his hands on her shoulders, Baslon levelled her into a chair. "Stay there. Don't say very much. Cherry, trust me. Your father's not dead, just . . . well, I'll let him speak for himself."

"You're not very nice," Cherry said in a small voice.

Shaking his head, Baslon glared down at her, and said in a flat tone, "Cherry, don't be afraid of me."

A glint returned to her eyes, which narrowed. "Baslon, sometimes you are not very wise."

"Oh?" He said skeptically. "I saw you on a very dangerous path to early suicide. I know what I'm doing."

"Saving my life, perhaps, but I refuse to become complacent about the benefits. Tell me, Baslon, is it wise to tamper with my mind and then tell me not to be afraid of you."

"There's news, Cherry. Are you better?"

"Take three steps back, and I'll answer." She folded her arms, waiting. "He located a chair, and brought it up to three short steps away from her. Scowling, Cherry replied, "I am coherent, and my reality is more firmly grounded."

"But that's obvious! Cherry . . . what about Teran?"

"I have my reasons," she mumbled, looking doubtful and hunching over. "I have my own form of justice. It's more suited to revenge. Look, Baslon . . . I won't let your father know I'm crazy. I don't want to be locked up and pestered by dozens of healers for the next two months."

"But, Cherry, if you need it . . ."

"Baslon, just get the tanda wanii krrss quiaila in here."

Baslon frowned at her. Cherry radiated authoritative princessliness, becoming more and more deliberate as he hesitated. "Yes, your Highness," he said tightly, whirling towards the door, and so did not see her ferocious blush.

"'Yes, your Highness,'" she mimicked is a passable immitation of Baslon's voice and inflection. She echoed again in a pathetic high voice, "'Yes, your Highness,'" and snickered. "Dangerous path to suicide, he says? I'd rather see Father first."

"Cherry?" I ventured.

Her head tilted towards the ceiling with a "Shhhhh."

"But, you're . . ."

"Michael," she said sarcastically, "your concern touches me, but I think your assistance is unnecessary. I only have long enough to rant a little before . . . oh, great." She straightened back into her previous position, nodding graciously as the demon bowed.

"Your Royal Highness."

"Your news, and be brief until I request more detail," Cherry announced, barely short of a snap.

"I have recently been to every major city within a certain radius," he told her. "There are no human noblemen from Warelnen anywhere." He became slightly indignant. "Your own description is only vaguely recognized within the capital, as per a reward some years past."

Cherry's eyes widened and her face softened ever so slightly. "Tell me of this reward."

"It is old and largely forgotten, but seemed to be a large amount, for humans. The payer has left the country and not been back in two seasons."

"You may leave," Cherry announced in a chilly voice. She waited until some minutes after the latch clicked. "You told him to say that," she hissed. "So you can keep me prisoner forever. I'll never get away, not with you watching me."

Bewildered, Baslon shook his head. "Cherry, I didn't."

"You told him to say that!" she shouted.

"Cherry, you know I didn't!" he roared back.

Rubbing her head, Cherry sighed. An instant became immortal. Another sigh flickered around the room, echoed by Baslon. "I know," she said simply. Looking off into the distance, she shook her head, the emotions on he face changing to rapidly for any of them to ever register in her mind. Her lips sometimes soundlessly formed syllables. "I wanted to go home. I'm stuck here forever now." She glared at him. "Leave me alone."

"But Cherry . . ."

Her voice took on the same icy accent she had used with the demon. "You may leave, Baslon. Immediately." Her head turned itself toward the fire, which leapt, flared, and burned the air for five feet outside of the hearth. Baslon leaned back, frowning. Cherry's face set hard in concentration, but the fire never reached any farther, regardless of the color she gave it. Baslon slowly relaxed while Cherry wrestled with a real fire instead of one of her fireballs. He jumped up, tense all over again, when Cherry's head rolled limp and the logs crumpled into ash. I leaped to my feet and ran for some water, wishing for smelling salts.

"Cherry! Stop . . ."

When I returned, he was smiling down at her. "Tired yourself out again, did you? Behave next time."

There was a low murmur from the area of her head.

"I'll send a letter to England, pet. Write it up, and I'll send an angel to York. It will be in your father's hands by dawn, and we'll be able to see about getting you home for a visit. You'll come back."

"No, I won't." She struggled up, then grasped the chair back desperately as her eyes threatened to roll back again. "Baslon, I'm not . . . I won't harm anyone. You have to know that."

He snorted. "Not now, you won't, not like that. You will come back, Cherry. I'll instill it in your mind unless you give me your word. You won't like having to be somewhere like that, Cherry. If you're the littlest bit late, it could rend your mind. You will go crazy, then, and father will have to lock you up with those doctors you are so desperately trying to convince me you don't need this moment." He crooned little nonsense syllables to her.

"I can't," Cherry said wildly, ignoring the attempted soothing sounds. "It's too much like an exorcism. I'm not going to have people messing with my mind. I won't let it happen."

"A little test, Cherry, to convince me, then should not be overmuch of an inconvenience? Not when compared with a season or two longer from your father. A few questions while you cannot lie."

She covered her face with her right hand, mostly obscuring her mouth and one eye, the other amethyst remaining staring. Her left hand seemed to be engaged in supporting her against the chair. "My life to Home," she began to mumble, "my death to a new incarnation," and her back straightened, her hand lowering towards her eating knife, "all actions directed towards the greatest choice in the dreamtimes . . . Ahhhh! No! I'm not going to . . . I'm going to . . ."

"You're going to live!" Baslon bellowed boomingly.

Cherry jerked convulsively, dropping the knife. "Yes," she whispered. "Live, I want to live." Baslon swooped down on the knife, snatching it and sticking it behind his belt, the stood protectively by her chair. "Tell the kitchens, please . . . no, it doesn't matter. There are only so many precautions to take against an early death. And there are so many ways to die when one is half a human."

"Come, Cherry," Baslon maintained gently, "let us get you in bed. I will see if there is anything I can do for you, but I think that you are going to be placed into the hands of doctors for a very long while." He began to put his arm across her shoulders to help her up. Cherry turned toward him, leaning back over the arm.

"Don't touch me," she whimpered tearfully.

"I will not hurt you," he stated, persisting, and drawing her to his breast, where she tensed and began shaking. He stroked her hair soothingly. "I will not let anyone else hurt you." A small sob escaped and was stifled. Baslon continued stroking, not saying anything. When another half of a sob squirmed out, he began crooning the nonsense syllables again. The third released a torrent through a floodgate, drenching them both, in all likelihood, and only ending when she had successfully cried herself to sleep. Only then did Baslon cast an anxious glance towards the window, where a grey light began to creep beyond the curtains. Frowning, he stroked a few seconds longer, then quickly cradled the helpless female into her arms and hurried into Cherry's bedroom. Michael followed, crouching over and trying desperately not to be seen while keeping Cherry in sight. He passed behind Baslon as the vampire was carefully laying the flushed half-elf on her bed, then chose a corner as the door was closed, and barely stifled an exclamation with the darkness until a single candle was lit. Baslon drew a chair closer to the bed and sat, waiting, in silence.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Cherry stirred, staring at the ceiling. She was aware of Baslon watching her. She was very acutely aware of making rather a fool out of herself, decided that she had reason, but if Baslon mentioned it, she would . . . nothing. There was nothing to be done. She was a prisoner, and that was all she had to work with.

"Cherry."

Cherry shied away from his thoughts. Her mother had instilled that habit in her. There were a number of habits her mother had tried on her, such as keeping physically clean and always maintaining a bluff to the end. But her mother had also raised her on tales of vampires and faeries and others who, though incapable of mind reading, could easily sense it and retaliate. Baslon was still thinking of questioning her under a trance. She knew there was no way she could avoid being swarmed by dozens of doctors unless she could stall until she went home, where all she had to worry about was exorcisms, and preachings, and rivers, and fires, and priests, and nobles, and men interested in her multiple values . . . "What time is it?" she whispered, and was surprised to discover that her throat was sore. There had to be some way besides convincing her father to never make her associate with nobles again. She did not want to be locked up.

"It's midnight, Cherry. You've slept for a long time."

So he and Michael had been watching her sleep. Two men, one a human. While she just lay there. Cherry sat up.

"Cherry, are you quite recovered?"

"Of course!" she said brightly, then chided herself for being too cheerful. That was what came of letting someone else lead the maneuvering. She had to change the direction of conversation quickly, but tactfully. "I am quite all right." She frowned at a vague thought of Teran, and mentally added one more lash of fire and ten more seconds under water to her list. "If you two gentlemen would leave me for a moment, I'll be out quickly." Oh, dear, how could Baslon be so unobservant? Now he was angry at Michael. Cherry waited until they had left before bounding up and out of the bed. It was barely even a thought that plaited her hair and swept one set of clothes off to be replaced be another. Remembering, vaguely, something about a letter, she wrote it swiftly. Cherry wondered rather blankly what to do with it, concluded that she would later be asked for it, and so transferred it carefully to a small storage space in her mind for later making it seem as if it had a appeared from no where. After a moment, she realized that she was staring at the wall, and chided herself for letting her mind become so lazy. It really was time to go home. First step, away from here. Second step, decide where home was. Cherry opened the door, conjuring up a smile.

"Hello, Baslon."

Baslon looked at her. "Good evening, Cherry."

Nerving herself to walk toward him, Cherry glided into the chair opposite Baslon. Carefully, carefully. Make Mother so proud that she doesn't care that I'm leaving. Show her up so much that she stops acting so ridiculous. "Is there a reason for your presence tonight?" she asked pertly.

"Your good health."

Ruthlessly squashing a worm in her gut, she replied, "My health is perfect." Baslon had not forgotten. She doubted she could make him forget. She would have to refuse out of hand when he next mentioned questionging her. Cherry did not notice the needle threading into her unconsciousness until it had subdued her conscious mind.

"Cherry," Baslon said carefully. He would not let her be insane. He had put too much effort into her current existance, and it would be too much of a lever for his brother when the time came to use all caution. A relatively simple question, first. "What are you called? What are your names and titles?"

"Cherry Amano Tudor, daughter of Queen Vrenkley of the Mnerecros at Cirala tribe of elves, and Ambassador Samuel Tudor. Princess and heir of the Mnerecros tribe, termed Samaya at my initiation."

Baslon froze. "Samaya?" Cherry did not respond. "Is that your true name?"

"Yes."

"Cherry, close your eyes." Red lids hid purple orbs. His breath came faster. Her true name! The Different. Now he hardly needed to hypnotize her to make her do what he wanted. "Cherry, you will forget my first questions and your own answers. We only just now started this period. What have I said since you were first put into this trance?"

"'Now started this period. What have I said since you were first put into this trance?'" she echoed tonelessly.

It was time to start over. Baslon had not thought of it previously, but to make the most of his questions, he should inquire into subjects he knew little about. "Cherry, I want you to think very carefully about yourself. We are going to do some careful examining of your mind. You will reach far back into your memories, and deep into the part of you that will go to the afterlife. Are you ready?"

"Yes."

"All right. Who are you?"

"I am. . . ."

A torent of images was pushed at his mind, blinding his clear sight with a film of black. It was dizzying, making him sway in his seat. "Stop!" Her eyes were already beginning to unglaze when he looked at her again. He put an unhurried stop to that. "Speak. Use no other form of communication," Baslon said tersely. "Answer this question, if you are so unable to answer the previous. What are your species? look very carefully at yourself before answering." Is was impossible that she be only a half breed.

"I am . . . elf and angel and poltergeist and siren and nothing. Everything."

Frowning, Baslon shook his head. Not everything, of course, but how could anyone be nothing. "What do you mean by nothing?"

"I don't add up . . . I can't identify the parts . . . and they all want control."

That was singularly impressive. Angel and poltergeist. Angel and poltergeist . . . the insane phantoms. How could she avoid being insane? It would be impossible for her to ever stabilize completely. "Ignore the rest of your answer," he ordered, and her mouth closed. Think into the past, instead. Three gods'-days back. Picture what happened to you in this instant, three gods'-days ago, as if you were experienceing it again." He paused a second. "Now, make no sound, but go forward to when Teran entered this room to take you away." His voice went hoarse, remembering. And the criminal got away unpunished! "Remember all that happened until you were brought into my father's presence in perfect detail."



Also, Baslon had discovered that any man trying to touch Cherry was likely to cause her to go into hysterics. Although dismayed, he was occasionally able to make use of this. Instead, a letter was sent to England, but it had to be returned, as Ambassador Tudor was travelling indefinitely. By this time, part of the proceedings had reached the ears of a certain Majestic elf, who put a stop to any desires to leave on her daughter's part. I doubt Baslon much minded her giddiness while this was the content.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Weeks passed. Occasionally Teran came, never making a successful attempt to capture Cherry, and once Cherry's mother came to visit, but the days were fairly boring. Cherry worked diligently on her dress, but she still did not sew well. From her initiation, she had brought back a figure on a chain, two snakes, one black and one white, intertwined. They were within a circle a little smaller than her outspread hand. She sometimes wore it on the inside of her clothes, sometimes on the outside, but from that day on I never saw her without it. This item was the one that had been at the top of the pole in the center of the fire. I never received any knowledge about it further than that it was a religious symbol. Then the night came when Baslon tried to get his prize, his 'little pet,' back. I remember it well. It was the first day of spring.

"Good evening, Cherry. Good evening, Michael." That was how he greeted us. He always spoke to me, now. We were on moderately friendly terms with each other. Neither Cherry nor I answered back, though. "Have you lost your tongues?" Actually, it was only Cherry who had lost her tongue. I was rather accustomed to following her lead. Cherry had been feeling uneasy for a while, as if she was afraid that something would soon be happening that she would not particularly like. When Baslon greeted her, she simply glanced up to acknowledge his presence and then returned to what she had been doing, namely fidgeting with her snake necklace. I did much the same thing, only I had been watching Cherry anxiously from my seat near the fire. When Baslon repeated his question, she answered him vaguely.

"No, Baslon. I am still in possession of my speaking organs." Then she shut off again.

"Little elven girl, forgive me for being inquisitive, but I would feel much better if you would answer me. Are you sick?"

"No, Baslon. I am fine."

"If you are sick, I think I know what the disease is. Infected throat wounds." Baslon was probably right. In all the time we had been here, the holes in Cherry's throat had not closed up, two shiny, lighter spots on her long, pink throat. "Or boredom."

"I am not sick." She paused. "Just worried."

"Worried about what?" Cherry did not answer. "Worried about what?"

"She doesn't know," I said. "Cherry would rather be mysterious than admit she does not know something."

"Be quiet, Michael."

Baslon sat down by Cherry and pushed her hair aside. When Cherry started, he said, "Don't move. There is nothing to be afraid of," and she relaxed immediately. There was something wrong with that, and I wondered if he might be controlling her mind. Baslon studied the side of her neck for a bit. "There is no infection," was his verdict.

"How do you know?" asked Cherry.

"We have to know. If we bite again in an infected wound, it could cause serious damages." Cherry scooted her chair away from him, with a strange look on her face. Now I knew why she had felt so uneasy.

Both of them stood up, looking both frightened and determined. "Michael, stay away. You don't want to be killed needlessly," said Cherry hurriedly as Baslon lunged.

They grappled for a moment, but Baslon was the stronger by far. Cherry did not let him follow up his advantage. She broke away and put a chair between them. When this barrier was knocked aside, she screeched in some unintelligible language. Her dress changed to a boy's shirt and breeches. Baslon gripped her wrists desperately as Cherry tried to gouge out his eyes with her nails.

Baslon had a great advantage over her. Not only was he stronger, but Cherry was not used to fighting on the defensive and would not duck, roll, or break as often as she should. Also, Cherry was prone to lose her temper and Baslon was simply waiting for her to waste most of her energy on him before attacking. Cherry had a good deal of energy, so it might be a long wait.

Baslon's method was simple, but effective. He would grab her wrists loosely and hold them away from his face while Cherry tried to attack him. Whenever she broke away, as was often, he stepped towards her, covering all escape routes. It occurred to him, though not to Cherry, that to go to the center of the room would increase her advantage.

Finally Baslon had Cherry backed up against the wall. He pinned her arms to her shoulders to the wall. She now began to kick, with both legs. Baslon was not holding her up, only back, so she fell. He had her up and was upon her before she could react. Cherry did not scream until Baslon came away from her neck. After that, her eyes turned glassy, her head lolled to one side and she fell unconscious.

I stared at her, not sure if it was a body or not. There was no sign that she was breathing, but it might have just been shallow. "How could you?" I whispered, gripping a chair leg desperately, hoping it could be of some use to me should Baslon decide to harm me as well. Most of the furniture, mainly chairs and footstools, were broken. Cherry, or her body perhaps, lay on top an overturned footstool. A chair leg was across her neck. "How could you?"

"Instinct is hard to tame," was his excuse. He looked at Cherry a little longer, a sad, half frightened look, trembling. "I don't know if I should . . ." his voice cracked, and he suddenly turned and rushed out of the room with choking, hysterically maniacal laughter.

I stepped forward, started to touch Cherry and stopped. If she was dead, I didn't want to know, and if she was only hurt, she should not be disturbed. I edged out of the room and sank into a fitful sleep.

When I woke up the next afternoon, Cherry still hadn't moved. I therefore set about trying to move her to her own room without changing her position. It wasn't easy.

First I tried to carry her, but I wasn't strong enough to do it. Next I tried dragging her, but Cherry's limbs were splayed out in various directions, so every movement of her body moved each separate limb as well.

After several tries in varying manners, I constructed a litter, of sorts. I was able to lay her on it in a moderately comfortable manner. With this I was able to transport Cherry to her room and lay her in her bed.

Cherry was alive. She didn't look like it and I wouldn't have known if she had not moaned when I first touched her. Cherry's skin was as white as snow and bitter cold to the touch. I could only detect a heart beat after several minutes of patient listening. Her breathing was shallow, not enough to cause her chest to rise and fall, but enough for me to feel if I put my hand close to her mouth.

I sat by her bed most of the day and tried, once, to get her to drink something. Cherry could not swallow it, could not move, could not show any sign of life. She wasn't a vampire. She cast a reflection in her hand mirror, the only mirror I had seen since we came here and you will remember what Vrenkley said on that point.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



A few nights later, of course, Baslon came again. He hadn't been coming for a short while and I was beginning to hope I would never see him again. I refused to speak to him although he tried to prompt me and tease me into doing so. Finally he asked;

"What is wrong, Michael?"

"Cherry is nearly dead because of you!" I snapped.

"I didn't think I had taken that much blood." Baslon's voice trembled. "Do you think that, maybe, I could see her?" He looked at me hopefully.

"No! You would kill her then!" I glared at him.

"What if I promised not to?"

"I don't trust you," I glowered. When he started to go into Cherry's room, I instantly blocked his path, without thinking of the consequences. He shoved me aside fiercely.

"I am going to see her whether you like it or not," he growled. I could only grimace back, my foot having been twisted as I fell.

When I got up and limped into Cherry's room, Baslon was kneeling by Cherry's bed, his hand on hers. He brushed a lock of red gold hair away from her face.

"Cherry. Cherry, can you hear me?" Baslon got no answer and perhaps he expected none, for he turned around to greet me. He looked utterly miserable. "Michael, do you know anything . . . ?"

I was not in a mood to be patient, either with myself or him. "Get out," I said. "Get away from her."

"Michael," said Baslon sternly in remonstration.

"Get away from her! She's mine! Mine! Go away!" Baslon let me rave on. He waited patiently for me to finish, stroking Cherry's white hand gently. Eventually, his behavior calmed me down so he could speak. As I now recall it, I think mainly of how silly I was being. Baslon could have silenced me with one blow, yet he never made a move to do that.

"Michael, don't yell so near her. She needs rest badly and you're hardly making things better for her."

"You'll kill her. I know you will. Vampire!" I whispered. I wasn't yelling any more. My throat had given out.

"I'm not going to kill her," said Baslon. "I am going to keep her here, forever and we will grow up together. We will not grow old together, because we both come of a race that lives forever. When she is old enough, I will marry her. Then she will live forever as the princess of the world, the one being related to all the peoples, the child of the races." He was speaking rather dreamily, as if it was his life long dream.

"You give her a good many titles."

"It only adds on to the titles her own people call her." He made a vague gesture in the air. "Cherry's mother's people. The elves."

"If you're not going to kill Cherry, then why did you do that to her?"

He did not answer me. Instead, Baslon leaned over and kissed Cherry's pale cheek tenderly. She gave a low moan, as though resisting even in her sleep, although she didn't move. Baslon caressed Cherry's face briefly and then left the room. I glanced at Cherry. Her face was still deathly white, but she was breathing more naturally.

"Cherry, are you dead?" I asked the motionless figure before me. I crossed the room to her and passed my hand over her eyes. Cherry did not react.

I left the room. The moon was still up, a tiny sliver of silver. Baslon rarely left so soon. The living room was silent and there was really nothing for me to do. I was not sleepy, so I wandered about the rooms awhile. Then I returned to Cherry's bedroom, sitting down at her desk.

There were several pieces of paper on Cherry's desk, along with several charcoal pencils of various hardness', all sharp. I picked one up, intending to draw something on the blank paper. The side facing me was dirty, so I turned it over. The other side had already been used, so I studied it.

It was a strange creature. The paper showed a lion, standing on its hind legs, which were in shackles, facing the viewer. It had the head of a girl, which I instantly took to be Cherry's. Her teeth were bared and one forepaw was raised, extended, trying to scratch whoever held the paper. It was well drawn and one could almost imagine what the colors in it should be. It was signed in strange characters at the bottom corner.

I turned over another piece of paper. This one had a picture of a mockingbird, fluttering frantically, with its tail under a cats paw and a dog holding on to the cats neck. The characters at the bottom were the same as on the other picture.

There were several more pages. One was a human head, bald, split in half. Each side was shown in detail. Another showed two swans, one black and one white, floating on a still lake in the moonlight. Two more birds, a dove and a crow, flew overhead while a peacock stood on the far shore. The next one I looked at showed two wolves fighting over a rabbit, which was laying nearby. The sixth drawing showed a mouse and a lion. The mouse seemed to be biting the lion while the lion slowly shoved the mouse off its nose. All were signed in the same way.

The last picture, for there were seven in all, was the strangest of all. It portrayed a dark angel, Mephistopheles. He was drawn in the likeness of an angel, with light hair and a white robe and with only his small goats horns and shiny black wings instead of white revealing his true self. Satan was seated on an oaken throne, well carved. Cherry had drawn it well to show what wood it was made of. Satyrs danced around the image playing pan pipes. Carnivorous animals lay at his feet and in a wood in the background were several types of herbivorous and omnivorous creatures.

I say that this seemed the strangest of all, for perhaps you think another was stranger, because it was the only one that had little resemblance to our situation before Cherry had been bed ridden. The lion Cherry had portrayed herself as showed her fierce and almost successful struggles to free herself. The mockingbird, cat and dog showed either myself or herself as the mockingbird, either herself or Baslon as the cat and either Baslon or Teran as the dog. She did have a firm hold on me and so did Baslon through her. Teran ruled Baslon through fear. It didn't fit that Cherry was held by Teran unless it showed how he literally held her and forced her to dance with him, or perhaps the same way Baslon ruled me. The split head showed Cherry's uncertainty as to how to handle the situation. I wasn't quite sure how her mind was split, though. The white swan in the next picture was Cherry, of course. The black swan was either myself or Baslon and the dove was the other one of us. The crow was Teran and I didn't know who the peacock represented. The two wolves were Teran and Baslon fighting over Cherry, or Cherry and Baslon fighting, with me sitting by. The lion was Baslon putting up with Cherry's (the mouse) impertinent remarks (the biting).

The devil in the last picture might have been Baslon, trying to court Cherry by appearing better than he was. I could not see where the satyrs or the animals fit into the picture, or that Cherry was anywhere in the picture. I determined to ask Cherry as soon as she awakened.

The little child of man and elf was still unconscious, still white and still beautiful. Her breathing was returning to normal, but there was no other sign of life. I walked over and felt for her pulse. It was there, weak, but I didn't have to wait very long to feel it. The holes in her neck should be covered, I thought. The blood was still trickling out of them. It was a gruesome sight. I glanced around the room. There were some clean sheets on a chair and I ripped a strip off one for a bandage. I started to wind it around her neck, but the necklace she had received at her initiation kept getting in the way. So I started to take it off.

Cherry's hands instantly struck out, tearing some of my skin off. They grasped her throat, pressing the amulet to it.

"Cherry?" I asked, rubbing my hand unconsciously. I was not bleeding enough for me to stop worrying about Cherry to worry about that tiny scratch. Cherry did not answer. Her original position had been renewed. There was no sign that she had moved. Not even the bed clothes were ruffled. She was still asleep, so she might have just had a bad dream. All the same, I did not take the chain off, only held it out of the way while I wrapped the strip of cloth around her neck, putting it in its proper position when I was through.

Then I sat in a chair, suddenly exhausted, and looked around at my surroundings. The room Cherry now rested in was large. It could possibly have been the largest bedroom in the castle, and was almost certainly the largest bedroom I had ever seen. It held Cherry's bed, a king size with a canopy, her oak desk and a dresser. There was a chair at the desk, a small bedside table and three or four small stools. A great silver candelabra sat on the desk and a smaller one sat by her bed. The candles were green and her bed covers were tan. There were three drawers in the desk, as well as several holes in the side to hold things. Not wanting to pry, I did not look to see what was in them. To lessen the longing, I swiftly left the room.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*



Teran came with Baslon the next night. The arrogant vampire did not say anything, just went directly into Cherry's room. Baslon was very fidgety and tense. "Father died yesterday," he whispered to me. "He stayed out too long. Teran took . . . ." He stopped. "He is now titled the King of the Supernatural," he whispered. I recognized the term Vrenkley had used.

"Stay out!" ordered Teran when we began to enter Cherry's room behind him. "I will make her mine."

Baslon winced but forced me back, closing the door. I had no intention of obeying anyone against my will and had started in the room anyway. "Why should I?" I asked Baslon, Teran being through eight inches of solid ash wood.

"He'll kill you," was the muffled answer. The other boy had his face in his hands, moaning against a wall. "He'll kill us both, and then her, too. What good to become a martyr if it only makes things worse?"

"So would you, in his place," I retorted.

"No I wouldn't," he said. "I would threaten to and I might harm you a little, but I wouldn't carry out my threats. Teran carries out his threats, or else he doesn't give you any warning. He'll just finish you off then and there. And he'll probably torture you first, you and Cherry, just so you could see the futility of your action. I'm just not strong enough yet, not to challenge him. He's older and larger and now he has the law on his side."

"He's going to kill her. She won't be able to defend herself at all."

"Don't go into hysterics over it," Baslon said, seeming much closer to that state than I. "Think. How could you stop him? It's probably all over now, anyway." Tears were now openly running down his face. "Cherry, Cherry," he whispered to himself. "Unless he wants her mind, which I doubt. It only takes a short amount of time to make a zombie-vampire."

"No, I wrapped her neck up. The blood was still trickling out." He flinched at the accusation in my voice. "Your brother would have to unwrap it. Sometimes my knots can be pretty good, and he can't just rip through them without breaking her neck." I hoped. Apparently Baslon believed me, but he was still shaking his head. "I have some garlic, too."

Baslon grimaced, but there was new hope in his eyes. "I won't ask how you got it. You can use it if you want to." Please use it, I could tell he meant. Right now our purposes were the same; to save Cherry. And for the first time in this bleak castle, I began to suspect Cherry and I might survive. "Just let me be out of the room when you do."

Fetching the garlic Vrenkley had given me, I knocked on the door and entered before Teran could say anything. "I thought I told you to stay out," he said, looking very irritated. My knots had been viciously torn at, and Cherry's body lay at a very different angle than she had been the last time I had seen her.

"You told your brother," I corrected nervously. "I refuse to take orders from a vampire." I was shaking all over. What if it didn't work?

"Get out", he growled, striding towards me. I held the garlic between us and leaned against the closed door. Teran stopped, seemed to hesitate, almost started walking again and then fell back a step. "Where did you get that? Garlic is not allowed in my castle." He started to rush at me. I was holding the pole the garlic was on horizontally. Although he tried to avoid the stick of rowan, I somehow managed to twist it so that the vampire ran directly onto it. Teran's eyes opened wide in shock as he fell, gasping, to the floor. I think that at that time I fainted from revulsion at my murder and distress over the near escape.



*~~~~~*~~~~~*

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