Page 9 of Slaying the Vampire Conqueror

I didn’t need expressions to feel the shift in the Sightmother then, a solemn tinge to her presence.

“What is it?” I asked.

The Sightmother pulled away, resuming her walk. She didn’t answer for a long moment.

“I peered into the darkness last night.”

I faltered.

Peering into the darkness.A phrase to describe the advanced form of seering conducted by the highest ranking of the Arachessen—usually only by Sightmothers. That, then, was why the Sightmother had been absent for the last several days. Peering into the dark was a long, arduous task that left them near-dead to the world for many hours, sometimes days. But the upside was that they came as close as most humans ever would to the gods themselves.

“What did you see?” I asked.

“Acaeja showed me the conqueror. She showed me terrible consequences that would take place if he were to succeed in his task. His actions are not Right. They threaten the realm of Acaeja, and all of the White Pantheon.”

My brows lurched.

That was a strong, strong accusation.

I managed, “How? Why?”

I felt her wry smile. “The Weaver, hearts thank her, is cryptic. She shows me only threads, not the tapestry. But I saw enough to understand her intentions. The conqueror needs to be stopped.” Her brow twitched. “If you’re still regretting that missed shot, you won’t be for long.”

I couldn’t speak for a moment. Then, “You want meto go.”

“I do.”

“But I’m?—”

“We need fire, child,” the Sightmother said, simply. “You have it. But if you don’t want the task?—”

“I do want it.”

I spoke too fast. Too eagerly.

I had been given many missions during my time as an Arachessen. All of them I executed skillfully, accurately, quietly. I trained twice as hard to make up for my late start, to make up for everything I knew the others would always say about me. And it had been recognized. I had risen through the ranks swiftly, earning respect if not always affection.

Still, these last few weeks… parts of myself I thought I’d long ago discarded had started nagging at me again. I hid it the best I could, but it bothered me to know that the Sightmother had noticed.

I had seen other Sisters be cast out of the Arachessen. Our goddess demanded discipline, distance. Not emotional volatility.

I had been handed a gift in this mission. I would not squander it.

I bowed my head. “Thank you, Sightmother. I accept the task.”

The Sightmother tilted my chin up, lifting my lowered face.

“All deserve another chance,” she said, then looped my arm through hers as we walked together. “What do you know of the Bloodborn vampires? The House of Blood?”

Arachessen extensively studied all the continents and major kingdoms within them. It was hard to learn about the vampire Houses in much detail because they were so isolated, but we had our ways.

“I know enough of their history,” I said. “I know of their position with their goddess.”

Nyaxia, the mother of vampires, was notoriously protective of her people, lording singularly over the continent of Obitraes for the last two thousand years. But long ago, the House of Blood had questioned Nyaxia and offended her, perhaps even betrayed her—offending her so violently that they were cursed rather than given the gifts matching those of the other two Houses. Few details about the curse were known, only that it resulted in young, ugly deaths byvampire standards. The House of Blood was reviled not only by the human nations—who wanted nothing to do with any of the vampire kingdoms—but also the other two vampire houses.

“Are you aware,” the Sightmother said, “that they have a strong affinity for seers?”

That, I did not know.

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