unbarred once, and I ran away. She found me
before morning, brought me back, and demonstrated that disobedience
is not an option."
DeVante adjusted to Felix's routine. They
took turns working the bellows to maintain the fire. It was hard
work, but if the pit wasn't hot enough, a burning took all day.
Katarina was awake only at night, and often
she was away until almost dawn. It was a relief to have her away,
because if she were bored and irritable in the castle it was
impossible to avoid her attention. "Sunlight kills vampires," Felix
confided. "And fire will do it, too. You will never find her near
the pit, and she will never trust either of us not to plot against
her."
Sometimes she ordered Felix into her
chambers, and when she was done with him, he had bruises and raw
red marks on his skin, and a too-bright sheen in his eyes. "What
does she do to you?"
"Nothing for you to worry about. She tells me
what to do, and I obey her," Felix said, and refused to share
details. "If I serve her well, she rewards me with her blood."
"She drinks from you?" DeVante asked, feeling
a war within himself between curiosity and revulsion.
"Sometimes. But not much – she needs me
strong for my chores."
A strangled, horrified sound escaped from
DeVante's throat, and though he did not mean to pass judgment on
his friend, Felix correctly interpreted the reaction.
"No, no, it's not like that, not terrible.
It's like a medicine, like the leavings of the cocoa or the poppy
plant. It's good. It feels good. She makes me crave it, I think, so
the thought of escaping her is almost as unbearable as the thought
of staying forever."
Surely Felix was delusional, DeVante thought.
How could any substance on earth be worth the repeated task of
burning corpses? But there was abject honesty in Felix's eyes, so
DeVante looked away and lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "I
cannot say I understand. But I can see that you are telling me your
truth."
DeVante did not ask more questions. Felix
seemed on the verge of defending Katarina, which was unfathomable.
She was malicious and cruel, worthy of nothing but horror and
revulsion.
DeVante watched the moon and counted
months.
He felt the seasons and counted years.
He stopped looking at the faces of the dead,
stopped noticing the smell of burning flesh. The hauling and
maneuvering part of his tasks became easier. When he bathed, he
felt the outline of hard muscle beneath his skin.
He grew out of boyhood and into manhood.
The days without corpses were good. Katarina
left food in the pantry, and DeVante and Felix did their work in
quick silence. When it was too cold to spend time outside, Felix
taught DeVante to read, and over the course of several winters they
worked their way through Katarina's library, learning about
history, mathematics, and the world.
"She doesn't seem like somene who would have
interest in books," DeVante observed.
Felix snorted. "She killed a nobleman and
stole his castle. The books were already here."
In the warmer seasons, they escaped the
courtyard through a gate that led to an abandoned garden, and
explored the twisted and overgrown pathways. The garden was
surrounded by the same brick wall as the courtyard, and DeVante
attempted to climb over it many times, despite Felix's story of
escape and recapture.
In the back corner of the garden was a
natural pool of fresh, cool water. Summers were hot, and they shed
their clothes and jumped in, nad the cold shock of the water forced
laughing exclamations from their throats. Small fish darted around
their legs, and they tried to catch them between their fingers.
By the sixth summer, it occurred to DeVante
to wonder why the pool wasn't stagnate. The fresh water and darting
fish meant the pool had a source that could not be contained by
walls.
Finding the source became DeVante's
obsession, and he held his breath and dove to the bottom, exploring
with his hands, learning the ebb and flow of the water. It was
surprisingly deep, but