'Because we have something important to do,' smiled Kradek-ka. 'Something that will benefit them immensely.'
'What do we have to do?' said Anukis, face a little slack. The drugs were starting to wear off, and the pains in her clockwork were increasing, and so strange, she thought, so odd that she needed the honey liquor more often now. She thought of the past; had she always needed the honey liquor? She did not remember taking it before, when she was a free vachine of Silva Valley… but then, the entirety of her early life was fuzzy and just a little bit twisted, and she let the memories go, let them slide away as more of the honey drug slid down her throat and eased into her veins and she was at peace.
Kradek-ka patted her hand. 'Don't worry about it, sweet little Anu. You will see. Everything will be fine in the end. I promise.'
Anukis nodded, and then they came to a sleep chamber, and she slept.
Anukis sat in a white place. The trees were blinding, dazzling, their white and silver leaves shimmering. Water tinkled nearby, white water in a white-rock stream. It was filled with natural music. It calmed her.
Looking down, she sat on spongy white heather, her legs curled beneath her. She was naked, except for marks under her skin; dark imprints of clockwork which made her grimace at the mechanical. Anukis slid her vampire fangs in and out, revelling in the slick smooth movement. Yes. Kradek-ka had made her well.
Anukis peered around for a long time, her mind sleepy, the world a strange place, her ideas not connecting, her memories fuzzy and distorting, reverberating like a skewed dream. It may have been a thousand years. It may have been a micro-second. Time seemed to have no time, here.
Anukis heard a sound, and through the white woods strode a woman, tall, naked, stunningly beautiful. Her long hair shone in the diamond light. She smiled when she saw Anukis, who hissed in fear…
It was Shabis! And Shabis was dead.
'I killed you, sister,' she said, voice impossibly soft, eyes lowering in shame.
'No. Vashell killed me,' Shabis said, and embraced Anukis, kissing her cheeks and lips. 'You tried to warn me. I would not listen. I should have listened to you, sister.' Tears shone in her eyes. 'I was drunk on his love like wine; I was addicted to his lies, like I was to the blood-oil of our corrupt society.'
'Father will make it good again.'
'Do not listen to him!' The sudden flash of anger in Shabis's eyes shocked Anukis, and she took a step back. Her feet sank into soft moss. She was stunned by the ferocity; the sudden change.
'Why not?' Anukis was gentle.
'Because! He is a liar. He has always done things for his own ends. We have never factored into his equation; I know that now. I can see clearly. I understand Kradek-ka as I understand no other, and he is evil, and he will destroy our vachine civilisation.'
'No, he will make it strong again! He loves the vachine, he has nothing but honour towards the Episcopate and Silva Valley.' But Anukis felt suddenly hollow, as if she had been scooped empty by a giant claw. Somehow, she recognised the truth in Shabis's words. Somehow, she glimpsed through the encompassing lies.
'You are wrong, Anu,' said Shabis. 'We were always his tools. His weapons. Only I was the expendable one. He used Vashell, used Vashell to drive you here.'
'Where is here?'
'You are in the Harvester's Lair. They are a created thing, like a machine, like a clockwork engine. They were created by the Vampire Warlords… created with only one purpose.'
'Which is?'
'To harvest blood. Yes, now they help the vachine and help convert the blood to blood-oil; but that is only to keep the dream alive, to keep the workings of the machine alive. Soon, you will see the power of their onslaught. They will turn against the vachine, Anukis. And they will be led by Kradek-ka.'
Anukis frowned. 'Once, not long ago, I was cast out by my own people. The vachine of Silva Valley humiliated me, and I was destined for death. I set out with Vashell to find our father – he was captured by the Harvesters. I swore I would seek vengeance on the vachine, for never had I felt such pain. Surely, if Kradek-ka seeks to destroy the vachine… no, it is all too confusing. It is all too insane!'
'The vachine are your race,' said Shabis, gently. 'You cannot destroy a whole race because of what they did to you. Genocide is never the way, no matter how unholy you perceive the enemy, Anukis. Our father intends to kill the vachine. All of them. And that includes you.'
'Now you are being ridiculous. Father would never hurt me.'
'Not yet. Because he needs you. But the time will come.'
The scene started to fade around Anukis, and she swallowed, mouth dry with fear. She was being dragged away from this ethereal plane, away from whatever bright, shining existence Shabis inhabited. And she had no control. No control at all.
'Needs me?' she said, speaking quickly, lethargy leaving her momentarily. 'In what way does he need me?'
'Ask him about the Soul Gems,' whispered Shabis, even as she faded away and was gone.
Anukis awoke. The walls pulsed white. Kradek-ka was watching her. He smiled, but his eyes were dark, his fangs gleaming gold. Kradek-ka was vachine. And yet, now that she thought about it, she had never, ever, ever seen him take blood-oil. And when Anukis was considered unholy, he had not just known about Karakan Red and the Blacklippers… he had known Preyshan, the king.
'Tell me about the Soul Gems,' said Anukis, moistening her lips with her tongue.
There was a flicker in Kradek-ka's face, but then it was gone. He smiled in serenity. 'I don't know what you mean.'
'The Soul Gems. Why do you need me, father? Where are we going?'
'We are going to celebrate a holy ritual. On behalf of the Harvesters. We are giving thanks that they help the vachine with blood-oil; that we are all holy together.'
'Something is wrong. You are their prisoner.'
'Yes. A prisoner of sorts. Only until I help them… perform a certain ritual.'
You don't need me.'
'You are coming,' said Kradek-ka, his voice hard and brittle as iron. Then he softened a little. He took a deep breath. He reached out, and helped Anukis rise from the soft, white bed. His hands were gentle. His claws gleamed, sparkling like silver in the diffused light.
'I will stay here. I feel weak. I need to sleep.'
'No. Time grows short. You will come now.'
Anukis met her father's gaze. 'No, father. I will not,' she said, voice icy, breaking free of the honey drugs in her veins and mind and wondering just what game was being played here. Anukis was sick to the heartcore of being pushed around, told what to do, used and abused and taken advantage of. She had come through the Vrekken, risked her life for her father, and yet this did not feel like her father; he felt like an imposter, a chameleon, something which changed its skin to please and was yet different inside. A different organism.
Kradek-ka, still smiling, slammed out his fist. At the end, his claws were extended and they were impossibly long, huge curved silver and gold blades which pierced Anukis's throat, driving through her windpipe and neck muscles and spine, appearing at the back of her neck in an explosion of blood that decorated the white walls. With the force of the blow Anukis's body danced like a dropped corpse in a noose, and Kradek-ka stood there, holding Anukis in the air, a punctured ragdoll. Anukis gurgled and kicked, not quite believing the strength of Kradek-ka, not quite believing her own weakness, and not quite believing what had just happened.
'My girl,' said Kradek-ka, eyes glowing impossibly dark. 'You will do exactly what you are told,' he said, and retracted his claws.
General Graal moved to the Blood Refinery. The cold night breeze cooled his naked body. Without clothing and armour, he was tautly muscled and very, very lean. Graal's skin was perfectly white, like fine porcelain, and when he turned the moonlight caught his features and gave him a surreal, dead look. As if carved from stone.
'The Sending Magick is ready, general,' came the sibilant hiss of a Harvester, bobbing as it walked towards him. Graal nodded, and moved through the snow, feet crunching, to where the huge Blood Refinery squatted, fat and black and bloated, like a burnt corpse in the sun, like the full belly of a corpse-fed battlefield raven. He turned back, looked at the Harvesters, and beyond, down into Falanor's capital city of Vor. Many buildings burned fiercely. The temples. The libraries. Smoke spiralled into the dark winter sky, fireflies of ash dancing like insects. Graal's
