Despite the wonders of modern movies, Vampyres did not have healing powers. If someone was injured, then they needed a Castor. The only thing a Vampyre would do for a bleeding Akrhyn is run from the temptation of fresh blood. Magical healing abilities were for the Castors and their spells.
“You have a Castor?” Leonid thought out loud. “You have a Castor who can save a female from the birthing process. That has to be it. As the spawn rip their way free of the womb, you have a Castor who can heal the bearer.” Again he felt his stomach roil. “Who? Who would carry out this abominable work?”
His mind processed the Castors he knew, the ones who were power hungry. Not for positions in Akrhyn society but actually hungry forpower. The Dark Castors came to his mind first. Symbolic of their Cast’s requirement for darker sacrifices. However, in all his years, he had only met one Dark Castor who Leonid would consider dangerous. A necromancer. The Castor controlled the dead and upset the natural balance in doing so. Leonid had killed the Castor himself.
The Crimson Cast were neutral. Leonid snorted. The only thing Crimson Castors were neutral on was their feelings towards the Ancient Harrian. The Ancient of wrath had no place in a Cast of neutrality. Could a Crimson Castor be responsible for aiding the Darkness? Leonid shook his head. No. The bearers of the red robes were not known for their healing skills; they would not be able to do the spell.
But the Pure Castors? Theyexcelledat healing. Would a Pure Castor whose Cast was focused on the details, upholding the Laws and pursuing justice, could they be swayed to the Darkness? Leonid thought of the white robes. He thought back over the years he had been dealing with them. He found them to be uptight and suffocating. They spent more time in libraries than the rest of their brethren.
Did it make sense? That the one to aid the Darkness was robed in white?
“What did you do?” Leonid asked in the quiet. “You have found a fool to carry out heinous crimes while you do what?” Leonid began to walk the room. His head snorted in contempt at his phraseology.Roomwas being generous. His fingers trailed over the stone as his skin remembered the rough texture of the rock. He stopped and stretched, his fingers lightly brushing the ceiling before he resumed hiswalk.
“Why am I in here? I am no Castor, my daughter cannot aid you, and I know no Castor evil enough to carry out what I fear you have sanctioned.”
Leonid’s skin prickled intensely, and he paused in his exercise. “Something stirs?” Cold washed over him, and then he knew he was alone. Quickly, wasting no time, his fingers sought out the indentation of days—weeks?—before. “Hurry, Vampyre, you have only yourself to let down,” he chided himself softly.
There.
He felt it. A momentary pause to ensure he was alone even as his fingers dug in. There had to be something; it couldn’t be his imagination. Then he felt more than a bump.Deeper. Leonid pushed inwards and heard the click. His body tensed, waiting for the discovery of the presence, but he felt nothing. Pushing hard with all his strength, he felt it move. Whatever weighed it down, he felt the give. Crouching down, he gathered his strength and then pushed himself off the floor with all his might as he sprang up, palms flattened against the rock as he shoved upwards.
Daylight blinded him. It did not deter him. Leonid ran from his cage and headed for the trees. The fact that Drakhyn could be in the trees distracted him not. Using skills he had acquired when he first tasted his Master’s blood, Leonid scaled the tree. When he was safely off the ground and pressed up against the trunk of the tree, Leonid looked around to see where he was.
He had been in complete blackness below ground. Now he was surrounded by white. The snow was undisturbed, and it was deep. He had been fortunate that his Vampyre speed had made his steps light, but the tracks were still there, marring the pristine white blanket of snow. He needed to keep moving. Glancing at the sky overheard, it was hard to detect what time of day it was with the heavy tree cover above him and the intermittent cloud in the sky.
Weeks in a stone box did not make him weak though. Leonid gave a grim smile as he scaled the tree further, his head finally clearing the tree top, and he looked around. Much snow had fallen, but if he were not mistaken, he had literally been captured right here. Unease prickled down his spine. Which meant they had been waiting for him, and if that was the case, they would not be far away.They?He didn’t know who they were, but Leonid was not going to wait to find out either.
He eyed the neighbouring trunk. Best way to avoid tracks in the snow? Walk between the trees. He grinned as he leapt from one tree to the other, careful not to disturb the snow on the trees. It would take him time, but after weeks in a box…he had patience.
* * *
Salem stood staring at the empty space where Cord and Sloane had stood mere moments before.
“Where did they go?” Kallie asked uncertainly as she too stared at where the Pure Castor was scrambling to his feet.
“Principal Elder,” Jameis started. “You saw him! He attacked me with no provocation.”
“Well, that isn’t exactly right,” Kallie protested. “You were spelled. Castor Ivanov was actually helping you.”
“He was strangling me.” Jameis glared at her, and Kallie looked away from his hard look.
“You were spelled?” Salem asked distractedly. “I thought you were immune to that?”
“I am a Castor. If the spell is strong enough, I can fall victim as much as the next Akrhyn,” Jameis said stiffly. “Which does not justify the actions of the Crimson Castor.”
“He cleansed the spell?” Salem replied with a long look to the Pure Castor, who nodded confirmation. “Then you should thank him next time you see him. When we see him.” Salem turned to Kallie. “You do not know where they went? He gave no clue?”
“No, Principal, he saidno, and then he grabbed Sloane and was gone.”
“Tegan.” Salem’s head dropped, his chin on his chest. “He would only react like that for her.”
“You sure?” Commander Bryce asked as he walked up, his hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder.
“I’m positive.” Salem needed to hit something. “He looked like he had seen a ghost,” he said quietly as his fist clenched around his sword handle. “Why do I continuously feel helpless?” Salem growled as he looked around at his Elite Sentinels “Where is my son?”
“Castor Ivanov asked the same question several times too,” Kallie told the Elite Sentinels who looked amongst themselves. “Castor Jameis, do you recall that you were to cleanse the rooms?” Kallie asked tentatively.
“Why is he Castor Ivanov andIam Castor Jameis?” Jameis asked scornfully.