When Blood Runs Cold - Chapter 278

“The spirits tell me he keeps the key in the lowest draw on his desk. There is a hidden compartment inside of it, but it should be relatively easy to crack. The key itself is well known amongst my people- a golden rimmed key with a heart of jadeite on the top. It’s big, and won’t be easy to miss,” Ingrid explains, twiddling a strand of her dark hair between her fingers, her vision lost as she wanders in her own thoughts.

For in the brief moments of time we have left to spare here, I too let myself get lost in thought, mulling over the things that are yet to come. Shakily, I take another sip of tea, trying in vain to wash out the apprehension from my quivering bones. But whether it is this, or the chilling influence of the soul as she dines with us in all her undead glory, I cannot quite shake the quiver from my body.

Jadeite- a rare gem but prominent in its markings. It should be easy enough to spot. It is distinctly known for its bright green colouring and white flecks, and is found deep in the the faery mines and no where else. From accounts I have heard, it has a notable aura about it, and contains a vast array of magical properties, which is probably why the faery king of the dark faeries chose to make a key from it in the first place.

As for the compartment… Well, my main goal would be to get in there without attracting the attention of Azrael directly, which leaves two options for me. Either I physically try to find the key when he is distracted, or I use my magic. Considering that vampires both never sleep and have an acute sense of hearing and awareness, that rules out the first option by a long shot. I would not be obtaining the key by physical means, but that does not rule my magic out of the book.

Recently in my spare time with Ingrid and Reshma and away from the prying eyes of the palace, I have managed to hone a few of my more… technical abilities- the ones that require less power than that of heavens hold, but still a substantial amount of concentration. It was only due to Ingrid’s vast knowledge on the capacity of the souls to begin with that allowed me to access this new technique. But I am vastly grateful for it.

What Ingrid has taught me to do is consolidate light into matter. At first this had seemed pointless- I have no need to hurtle balls of light at people considering the powers already have in inventory. However, it was only when Ingrid explained that I should be able to manipulate this matter into a shape of my choosing that I fully understood the extent of its power.

So long as there is ample light in Azrael’s room, I should be able to manipulate it to some degree and create some sort of basis of construction that should be able to get the keys out of the draw without me touching them myself. This of course would require a huge amount of concentration just to form it, let alone hold it, which is why Ingrid suggested I use this power at a time Azrael is most distracted. Knowing Azrael, I should be provided with plenty of opportunities.

So far, the most likely simulation of light to create that would aid us in that endeavour is a hand. And so a hand is what I practised creating.

Initially, it had been quite the task to manage to form its shape and mimic its functionality with light, but after a few days practise and encouraging remarks from my friends, I can now create a relatively decent hand to spin under my whims.

Though admittedly it is quite the task to maintain even without any distractions.

“I think I should be able to get the key out of the cabinet fine enough,” I murmur, twiddling a few spindles of light between my fingers, unwilling to admit my apprehensions about the task ahead. Besides me, Reshma nods.

“I’ve seen what Serena can do, she can handle it,” Reshma assures, giving me a reassuring pat on the back, obviously sensing my tensions.

To this Ingrid merely nods.

For a minute she stops to glance round into the blackness of the trees and shadows were two hulking shapes waver in the gloom. They haven’t stopped pacing all afternoon. It would seem Soren’s hellhounds, too, are anxious.

Clearing her throat, Ingrid continues on.

“After you have got the key, you will need to give it to the hellhounds- at least one of them. However fast you think you are as a vampire, I promise you, these guys are faster,” she assures, dipping her head round to look at the wolves once more. Whining softly, one of the wolves approaches warily to butt their head in her palm, proceeding to withdraw quickly from the sheer cold that radiates off her. All this Ingrid observes with an impartial expression.

Reshma who, even after our incident, never really warmed to the wolves, merely frowns, taking another sip of her beverage. Wings flapping with a nervous unease, she begins to rap her fingers against her sides, her expression drawn.

“But I don’t understand,” she protests, scooting further forward. “Serena is part vampire, is she not? Her speed is unmatched by most mortals, and likely most other vampires too. Surely it would be more efficient if she took the key?” Reshma queries, obviously not pleased with the outcome.

Leaning forward, I press my arms against the table, eager to hear this explanation. I too have been wondering similar thoughts. For while I am not boastful of my abilities, my fighting abilities and speed alike would be sure to get me out of the palace efficiently, regarding everything goes off without a hitch.

But as always, Ingrid has an answer for that too.

“Not so, for two reasons. The first and primarily the most important is that once you have the key, it is very likely that Azrael will take every measure he has at his disposal to stop you. Lest you forget he has the entire palace under mind control, which is equally an entire palace that could be deployed stopping you. Not to mention whatever disasters he has been brewing down in that dungeon of his- that place reeks of death,” she says, wrinkling her nose, as if that very smell didn’t cling to her either. Sharing a nervous look, Reshma and I scoot a little closer, repressing our shivers. A whole palace after me…

A whole palace of innocent people no less. Regardless of whether or not they want to kill me, underneath that mind control, they are still innocent people, civilians, mothers and fathers who were unwillingly swept into this ordeal.

If push came to shove, could I really be ruthless enough to wipe them all clean with my powers, to stain the palace walls with their blood and make it one small sacrifice over so many others? I am no Soren, murder is not something I can take lightly. Though sometimes I wish I could be like that- unfeeling. Maybe if I was I would be out of this mess already.

“Right,” Reshma murmurs in acknowledgement, running her fingers through her dark silken locks. At the mention of this mind control, and of her people, a dark look presses itself into her features, her mouth pursing into a line as she stares blankly off into the forest. I wonder how many of her friends, family she has lost to this mind control? How many times she passes them each day with only cold, unrecognised stares between them? It must pain her greatly, I can hardly bear to imagine it.

And yet she never mentioned it, not even once.

Realising that neither of us plan to say any more, Ingrid continues, listing the second reason off on her fingers.

“Secondly those wolves can phase through objects and spaces at a will. This is a part of Soren’s power they have for themselves. They will be able to get out the palace much quicker than you will, and escape any oncoming resistance too, or avoid it completely. They are the safest option to getting the key out safely, and you too if your route is compromised.”

Going silent now, we all mull over this information, taking a joint sip of tea.

So many holes in this plan, I think to myself a little despairingly, ringing my hands out. So many places it could go wrong. And yet it is our only shot.

“Alright then, so the wolves take the key. One of them stays with me then,” I affirm with a bitter smile, my stomach rolling with the thought of what is to come.. I don’t exactly relish the idea of bedding Azrael and running from him straight after, but I suppose if this is our last hope for escape, then it must be done.