His eyes were hot, and I knew he was thinking of himself, of being fully human again. My heart wrenched, for I had no doubt there was no such thing as a cure for the poison in his blood, and there never would be.

"In Naimah's journal, she posited a theory that the basis of the alchemist's cure was in the exchange between humans and vampires. The vampire would regain some of its human nature once again and in return a human would acquire some of the qualities of a vampire, namely immortality." He paused to thank Serena as she handed him coffee.

I didn't trust Naimah. After all, we still did not know what she had bartered in order to live an unnatural lifespan. What had persuaded the secretive and reclusive alchemist to give her the power of long life?

But Valerian was animated as he continued. "Imagine if this should be the case, that it is possible for vampires and humans to trade in kind."

"This is interesting, yes," Serena broke in, "but what has any of it to do with Emma?"

Folding his hands in front of him, he bowed his head. "Whatever effects the alchemist might have discovered to extinguish the vampire living in his daughter, these might extend, to a lesser degree, of course, to having an effect on the Dhampir." His eyes cut to me. "The source of your capabilities come from the blood of the vampire in the strigoii vii. It is, at its essence, vampire blood."

I saw his meaning, and had to admit it seemed to have merit as a hypothesis. "Therefore, if there is such a thing as an elixir to lessen the powers of a vampire, it would dilute those powers in me as well."

"Why not?" His eyes were intense. "If there is such a thing as an elixir, that is."

I knew Valerian wanted to believe in this elixir desperately. A cure for him. And for my mother-if she still lived, if she had not pa.s.sed on to the true undead, the powerful and terrible strigoii mort. I shook off the implausibility of it as questions arose in my mind. "Why would this alchemist give such a tool to a vampire? He's dedicated his life to curing his daughter, saving her from their number. Why would he ever lend aid to one?"

This, I saw, deflated Valerian's theory. He nodded, agreeing with my logic. "That I do not know."

Serena leaned forward, hands braced on the table between us. "Still, let us focus on our problem. Ruthven had some way to weaken Emma's powers. Where else, but from this alchemist, could he get such a means?"

"And more importantly, if he weakened you last night he can do it again," Valerian said with a meaningful look at me.

"I cannot simply retreat," I protested. "He is starting his rampage-he will kill all the girls and then he will disappear. You know he will go elsewhere, to another of his hunting grounds, and pick up the same game again. We have to fight." I knotted my hands together in frustration. "If we can figure out how he is weakening me, we can stop it. It must have some source, something I know somehow, something out of the ordinary. What is out of place, uncommon, even odd in the school?"

The cottage door opened and in walked Sebastian. He looked miserably windblown and exhausted. "Thank heavens, you are all still here. If I have to spend one more moment in the company of this priest I swear I'll-"

Father Luke stepped inside, filling the interior of the cottage with his bulk. He seemed larger, stood taller, shoulders thrown out wider. I noticed he was once again wearing his Roman collar. Something unfurled in my chest, a pride and love of the man I had known him once to be-strong, a leader, a man of conviction and purpose.

"Uncommon indeed," he said. He had apparently overheard our conversation as he was about to enter. He removed his cloak with a flourish, his movements fluid, almost graceful, as if a ponderous weight had been thrown off.

"I believe the power comes from the Dracula himself," he said as he sat at the table. "Let us put our heads together. The hand of the Great Dragon Prince is at work here." He grinned. "I have something to show you."

Chapter Twenty-three.

A ripple of excitement went through the room as we watched Father Luke lay a cloth-wrapped package on the table. He motioned for me to take it. When I picked it up, I was surprised at its weight, which might have been as much as a full stone.

"From the Vatican archive in a Carmelite convent outside of Pompeii," he said. "A secret one, not official. Go on, open it." He waved his hand. "It is a gift."

Inside was a gold disk, large enough to cover my entire palm if I held it in my hand. It was very thick, and pierced in a pattern on the top. I could make out carvings on it, words in a different language-Latin, I would guess, but the light was too dim to see it clearly. I detected only one thing clearly-a single bold, deeply inscribed word: Draculea.

I lifted an awed gaze to the priest as I pa.s.sed the disk into Valerian's hand. "They gave this to you?"

One corner of Father Luke's mouth lifted. "No," he replied blandly.

Valerian and I exchanged a look. "Perhaps you should explain," I said gently.

He seemed well satisfied with the effect of his p.r.o.nouncement. "You already know the men in the Order of Saint Michael kept secrets from me. I have always maintained that the Church of G.o.d is not bad in itself, but men can be, perhaps without knowing it. Even men who mean well can make terrible mistakes."

"So this is why you went to Rome?" Valerian asked as he examined the disk. "Revenge?"

"Perhaps not so much revenge as atonement. My church broke trust with me. I felt, very simply, that they owed me."

Sebastian threw his hands up and rolled his eyes. "So this is what all of the mystery was about, rushing off to meetings you would tell me nothing about, disappearing for days on end-all that to even the score? What in the name of heaven do you imagine they owed you?" He jabbed a finger at the disk. "That thing must be worth a fortune. It was a hefty debt."

"More than money," Father Luke replied. "The truth."

"Oh, I see. You merely swept into the Vatican and demanded the truth," Sebastian cried sarcastically, "and of course they said, 'Oh, certainly! Here are all the secrets we hid from you, so sorry for the inconvenience.' Honestly, I . . ." Sebastian paused, his eyebrows gathering on his smooth forehead. "Truth about what?"

Father Luke paused, and I could see he was savoring the moment. "About the Dracula." He tapped the gold disk. "And this."

"What is it?" Sebastian demanded.

"It is the seal of the Dragon Prince," Father Luke said. "You recognize it?"

I looked closely. Indeed, I had seen it written into the flesh of a vampire who had tried to kill me, in the form of a tattoo. Other places, too . . . I tried to remember where. A curl of apprehension tightened in the pit of my stomach.

"This was taken from his mightiest general, one who was vanquished long ago by a skilled and powerful vampire hunter," Father Luke explained. "The general's fate was to be imprisoned in the holy confines of a tree blessed for the thorns which once made up the cruel crown Our Savior's tormentors forced on his brow. A special tree of that kind, one situated in a sacred and mystical place where the living and the dead meet." He lifted his eyebrows to me expectantly.

Yes, I knew what he meant. Avebury. I felt my heart lurch. "The hawthorn. That vampire . . . this is him, then . . . The one . . . ?"

He nodded. "This seal belonged to one who called himself Oriax. The name comes from that demon who serves as Lucifer's general. That was not the vampire's real name in life, most certainly. However, it was an apt t.i.tle, for he was the greatest of the Dracula's followers, and under his many campaigns spreading terror through Europe and western Asia, the Dracula's power was expanded far and wide, even here in England. But it was here he was vanquished." Father Luke took the disk back from Sebastian, who seemed suddenly uncertain what to do with it. "This was taken from him by the vampire extirpator who banished him in that tree long ago."

"This was the creature we destroyed last spring?" Serena asked.

"Yes," I replied. "I suppose it was. We did not know its ident.i.ty, though. We knew only that Marius had come to release it so that he could consume it, take that ancient and great power into himself. His plan was to become the mightiest of all vampires."

"Indeed, that is exactly what his plan had been. He was sent by the Great Dragon Prince himself," Father Luke said. He stared meaningfully at Valerian and me in turn. "Anointed by him in a sense, to succeed Oriax, who had proved himself unworthy by being bested."

Valerian scrubbed a hand over his chin as his thoughts turned. "So the Dracula is grooming Marius to take Oriax's place at his side."

"Marius. And another." Father Luke paused, pausing as he let us digest this. "There will only be one in the end, but I suppose the Dracula learned from Oriax's defeat. It must have been crushing when his general, the only one that terrible prince had pinned all his hopes upon, was defeated in battle. The Dracula has learned from this disappointment. He has devised a different plan to ensure it does not happen again. This time, he has chosen two sons to vie for his favor. Brothers in strength and equal in their possession of their father's love. They despise each other, of course, for they are locked in a lethal rivalry, in which only one will survive. The Dracula pits them against each other to see which emerges the strongest, the most ruthless, the most clever and resourceful. It is this one who will be made his general, and sit at his right hand."

I said, "It is exactly what his father did to him and his brothers. Uncle Peter told me of the stories of Prince Vlad II, the Dracula's father, who set his sons in conflict against each other to see which one deserved to be prince of Wallachia."

"Marius is one of these sons?" Valerian asked.

"Marius is the wise one, patient, stealthy, and cunning beyond compare. He is capable of great strategy. He understands humans, knows how to use them as resources. While he is crafty, his brother-his enemy in this war to come-is much different. Impetuous, unpredictable, capricious and temperamental, he is just as dangerous and just as dedicated to winning the feud."

"Lliam," I said.

At Father Luke's expression of surprise, Valerian quickly explained what he and I had learned both through Ruthven and on our trip to Ireland.

"Well, then," he said, satisfied. "It all comes together. Ruthven is from Lliam's line. He must have made this Alistair, who in turn made your mother. He was right to call you sister."

"Don't say that!" I snapped heatedly.

"I apologize. I meant only that the source of the vampire was through the line of Lliam." He turned thoughtfully to Valerian. "And you are from Marius." He paused.

"Why does the Dracula wish to have a general?" Serena inquired. It was strange to hear her voice so timid.

Father Luke took a long inhalation of breath. "Ah."

Sebastian sank into a nearby chair. "That does not sound good."

"Serena asks a crucial question. There is indeed a reason why the Dracula requires such a powerful and ruthless general." Father Luke's eyebrows gathered as his face took on a troubled look. "It is, and always has been, his most fervent wish to vanquish the other Dark Princes of the Undead to rule all the world unchallenged."

Several beats of silence pulsed around us, filling the room. My mind spun, for I had never thought beyond the Dracula. It seemed incalculably horrible to imagine more of his kind, but it also made sense. The vampire had existed throughout time in all corners of the world; like humans, would they not be subjected to different lords, rulers, even governments, if anything in the revenant world could be so organized?

It had never occurred to me, and yet I had known of their propensity for society. A natural outgrowth of society was governance, at the top of which was the one who held power. And where there was power, there was war.

"Y-you are saying there are others like him, like the Dracula?" Sebastian stammered.

Father Luke held up a cautionary finger. "Understand, there is no other like the Dracula. The Church believes there are seven princes of distinct domains, each ruling realms of varying sizes and of very different types."

Serena made a sound halfway between a moan and a gasp. I understood exactly how she felt.

"The greatest, the most powerful and dangerous, is, of course, the Dragon Prince," Father Luke continued. "The others are mere dukedoms to his great empire. The Dracula desires them all."

"Who are these other princes?" I asked.

"They are all very different-that is why legends surrounding vampires are so varied, in keeping with the cultures of the domain they rule. And they are kept very secret. I was able to learn only a very little bit about them. The Tiger Prince of the Dark Continent of Africa. The Serpent Prince of India."

I was aware of Serena making the sign of the cross, then kissing her fingers three times in an old-fashioned charm. Sebastian saw her, too, and he looked down at his hands as if he might follow suit.

"In the north, the undead carry on in the fashion of ancient Viking raiders," Father Luke continued. "I read accounts of how they waylay unfortunate ships, letting the captives loose in a savage hunt across the ice fields in a parody of sport. In contrast, the Greek have a very civilized, very small, elite clan. These vampires exist in mystery and isolation, remnants of their country's Golden Age of philosophy, science, and art. They are elevated thinkers, and are considered mystics."

"That must be why the Greek vampire is so difficult to figure," I ventured. "And why the alchemist has his research laboratory there."

"The Ruby Prince," Father Luke continued, "has dominion over all of Asia and Asia Minor. His minions are many, organized into armies with powerful generals to expand power and influence within the revenant and human worlds. Next to the Dracula, he is most feared."

Valerian jerked to attention. "So this is why the Dracula must have a general of unsurpa.s.sed quality."

Father Luke flexed his hand, a powerful hand that might, in another century past, have wielded a sword as deftly as a feather. "Will it be Marius or Lliam? Only one will rise. Who it will be is yet undetermined."

"That is six," Sebastian said. "Only six princes."

The priest nodded. "The last one is known only as the Spirit Prince. Its realm is far away, some believe in the Americas. I know nothing of its nature or what manner of vampires serve that realm."

Sebastian met my gaze. He seemed in shock. I, too, was in something of a daze, as if my head had gotten knocked one too many times. I rose on numb limbs and began to walk toward the door. I had had enough for tonight. I thought, perhaps, I'd had enough for a lifetime.

"It becomes deeper and deeper," I murmured bleakly. "And I can do nothing. I am defenseless, weaponless-"

Valerian caught me by the arm. "Emma, wait for me."

I stared at him blankly. "I have to go back. The girls are still in danger."

"There is nothing for you to do. Stay with me. I can protect you."

I do not know where it came from, but a great and terrible laughter welled up inside of me, and exploded from my throat. I backed away, shaking my head. "You would protect me from all the world? From the Great Dragon Prince, and all the princes of the undead? You would-"

He was never unkind to me, not even in the smallest way. Yet, his hand on my arm was firm-strong even, and his face as harsh as a knot. "Come with me," he said, and he took me from Serena's cottage. I pulled away, from pride, not fear, and once we were clear of the little house, he released me. "You are not going back to that school."

"He will kill them, Valerian."

"He will kill you."

"And am I to walk away, do nothing? Count myself lucky to live? Is that what you will do? And when the news comes of their deaths, shall we bow our heads in sadness and tell ourselves there was nothing else for us to do?"

He gazed at me helplessly. In the moonlight, his face was shadows, sharp with angles. His cheekbones stuck out like blades, his eyes hollow, his mouth obscured.

Then he did something very odd. He held his arms out to me, and whispered my name. Just once, but he said it with feeling, and I moved without thinking, obeying my heart and my broken courage, and fell into his embrace.

I did return to Blackbriar that night. Valerian came with me.

It had been decided quite simply. He had said, "You need me." After a beat of hesitation, he added, "And I need you."

I let him in by the pantry door and we snuck undetected into my bedchamber. On our way, he helped me check that the windows in the dormitories were secure and the salt lines were intact.

"Is there anyone you suspect will let him in if he calls to them?" Valerian asked as we were finishing our preparations.

"Possibly Margaret. I do not know her state of mind since Vanessa's death."

"Ruthven will eventually find his way in, if he wants to have at them."

I nodded in agreement, wrapping my arms about myself to ward off the chill. "He considers them to belong to him. Now that he is angry, and it is all falling apart once again, he will not rest until he has killed them or driven them to take their own lives."

Valerian paused. "And you?"

I answered him honestly. "I do not plan to die."

He grinned at me, shaking his head as if I had said something to amaze him. "Brave Emma."

"You mean foolish Emma," I said sadly.

He suddenly grew serious. "I mean beloved Emma."

That stopped me cold. My breath caught in my throat. He held his hand out to me, and I took it as we walked back to my room. In the moonlight, we did not need to bother with the light once the door was shut behind us.

He took out a shiny silver crucifix and hung it on the naked nail over my bed. That done, we looked at one another.