Appearedwas the operative word.

But a Kaly Vampire would never use physical traps in any case. No, it would be something else entirely. So the stairs probably were physically safe.

Caemorn started down the stairs. He liked how first and finely cut they were. He trailed a hand along the curving wall. The stone was silky under his fingertips. Pleasant. He imagined–no, heremembered–doing this before.Feelingthis before. Trailing his fingers along the curve of this wall and then there was a doorway at the bottom. The light would become blue instead of the silvery light as there were eternal flames that burned there on either side of…

Caemorn stopped as soon as he saw the blue light illuminating the doorway down below. He drew in a soft, steadying breath. The idea of madness did not make sense to him. If he was going mad, his thoughts would not be so ordered. He would not know things--objectively, know things--before he saw them himself. So it was only logical that he wasnotmad, but, in fact, was remembering this place.

I have been here before.

The concept of reincarnation had been floated before though before the Immortals, like Balthazar and Fiona, there had been no proof. Could it be possible that humans reincarnated? They thought that at the Well of All Souls the spirits had a choice to go on or to return. But no one reallyknew. But he must be proof of this unless…

Eyros returned as Balthazar.

Wyvern returned as Fiona.

But Kaly is still here… still in this world so how could I be a reincarnation of them?

Caemorn advanced down the stairs to the very bottom. It was a single, rectangular room approximately twenty-five feet wide by fifty-feet long. There were torches burning with blue flames along the walls. The room looked like a crypt.

There were skeletons in niches lining the walls, their arms crossed over their bony chests. There were four sarcophagi, equidistant from one another filling the room, rather like what was beneath Ravenscroft Manor. They were smooth and white and pure. He imagined that statues of the inhabitants would beplaced upon the top. But there were no bones inside. That’s not what they were for. Not to bury the dead but…

To create life...

On the far wall, beneath one of the blue-burning torches was a message carved into the once pristine stone walls. It was carved in order to ensure that it lasted the ages as paper would not. The language was not English. It was an ancient tongue. The tongue of the Immortals.

But Caemorn could read it.

Welcome home.

I know it will be you… the true me… who will find this spot. The others would never come back here willingly. But you… I… will. And it will likely be the first modicum of peace I feel the moment I step through these doors in a very long time. And I should feel that, for it means I have returned and will repair my mistake.

My mistakes…

But the prince will explain all to you about that. What I need you to know now is simply this: the promise you made to our king, you can keep. Here, there is enough stored energy to do it. I have prepared. You have prepared.

You will be able to do what I cannot because you took the journey and came back.

Again, welcome home. May we never be parted from it again.

The skull with the crown was the signature. Caemorn drew shaking fingers over the familiar symbol that now had such a different meeting for him.

I am an Immortal reborn. I am Kaly.

SHADOW AND LIGHT

Balthazar and Christian walked arm-in-arm to the Eyros Palace. His Master chatted gaily about everything they were seeing, admiring every single building, and remarking how pleasant the weather was. Everything about Nightvallen was perfect and charming and exactly as Balthazar had thought it would be. And could Christian believe that this was going to be their home? Yes, he could believe it. Yes, it was deserved.

It was clear that Balthazar was still amazed at what he perceived as his good luck rather than his good acts. Christian just held onto him a little tighter as he realized that. Balthazar kissed him, hardly stopping in his flow of compliments for the place.

Christian loved to hear Balthazar justtalkwithout any sort of panic or displeasure. He truly was joyous and a joyous Balthazar was a thing to see. Christian could feel Balthazar’s rising excitement though as they neared their ultimate destination: the Eyros Palace. Would he recognize it? Would it feel like home? Or would he long for his beloved Ravenscroft Manor? Christian thought that he would love both and he felt greedy that he would be the first person to see Balthazar’s amazement.

His parents had remained behind with Elgar. They were eager to see the Eyros Palace, too, of course. His father was already starting to wander to get a closer look at that building or another fountain or was that a library over there? A courthouse? A temple?

His mother had to keep a firm hold on his arm to keep him from disappearing into the maze of streets in Nightvallen. There was so much to see. So much to learn. Christian could well imagine what the Harrows, natural adventurers, must have thought. Even his mother, who liked nothing more thanreadinghistory and about exotic destinations, had started to lose track of herself as she gazed between slats of several shuttered windows or ran a hand along a statue’s smooth marble leg. The Eyros Palace would, undoubtedly, be more spectacular than these things they were seeing and it would, of course, have more meaning.

But both his parents understood that it was important for Balthazar and him to see the Eyros Palace alone first. Really it was important forBalthazarto experience it first, while Christian was just along for the ride. But what a ride it was.

“I cannot wait to see the expressions on some people’s faces when they look at Nightvallen!” Balthazar enthused with a little bit of childish glee in his voice. “It makes the other Ever Dark cities look like pissant villages! And they thought they had the best! Bah!”