The Rest Falls Away

Chapter Six In Which Miss Grantworth Stands Her Ground

"Did you dance with your marquess last night, Victoria?"

She looked up from the stake she was whittling into a lethal point. Max sat in a large chair, drinking something the color of topaz, and studying what appeared to be an ancient map of tunnels on a table next to him. He didn't even look up as he spoke. Aunt Eustacia and Kritanu had left the parlor moments earlier to retrieve a book and tea, respectively.

"If you are speaking of Lord Rockley, I'm sure it will delight you to learn that I did not."

"Pity."

Victoria considered the stake for a brief, delicious moment, then regretfully rested it on the table. She had four new polished ash stakes, each to be painted a different color so that they could complement her various gowns. Verbena had suggested ivory, pink, pale green, and blue, and was advocating further decoration using flowers, feathers, and beads.

"I didn't dance with him because we attended a musicale, and there was no dancing. But he has asked to call on me." She didn't care if she sounded like a petulant child.

For the first time Max looked up at her. His expression was forbidding. "You are playing dangerously, Victoria."

"Hunting vampires is playing dangerously. Being courted by a rich, handsome man is not. And in either case, I am well able to take care of myself."

Max's gaze dropped pointedly to the side of her neck, where the four red weals had begun to heal. "Your ability to take care of yourself has yet to be conclusively proven; however, that is not what I meant. You are playing dangerously with the marquess and his attentions."

"Why do you begrudge me the pleasure of the company of a perfect gentleman?" Victoria asked. They had begun using each other's familiar names almost immediately after the incident with the Guardian vampires. It felt ridiculous to be formal with someone who hunted the undead in tandem with her. "Is it because you never move in the circles of Society, so you look down upon anyone who does?"

He settled back in his chair and looked at her. The golden liquid in his glass streamed in the light, shifting as he gently moved his wrist in small, circular motions, as if he were thinking how to respond. "Victoria, you completely misunderstand my motivations. I begrudge you nothing. If I had my way, you would have nothing to worry about but the next ball and whether to allow your marquess two dances in one night. But surely you realize that you cannot go on the way you have been."

"I do not understand what you mean." There was a shift in the air now, and the discomfort that always seemed to snap between them had ebbed into something lethally serious.

"I see that you do not." He appeared genuinely surprised. "Victoria, you cannot think to marry the marquess, so why do you continue to play with his affections? It is clear that he is smitten with you. Perhaps not in love, but at least smitten."

"I cannot… Not marry him? I fear it is much too early to be discussing such a possibility, but should it come to pass, there is no reason I could not accept his proposal. I realize that, coming from Italy, you may not understand the machinations of Society here in England, but—"

"It has nothing to do with your position in Society." The level tone was gone from his voice; now he merely sounded angry. "Do not be obtuse, Victoria. You are a Venator. You cannot marry. You cannot even take a lover!"

Though she later berated herself for it, Victoria could not stop her gasp at his words. Warmth billowed up her neck and into her cheeks as she responded, "You needn't be crude!"

"Crude? As if being bitten by a vampire isn't the greatest form of crudeness. Victoria, you are a hunter of violent creatures. You cannot allow yourself to be divided or distracted by something so mundane as a husband or family."

Victoria could hear the return of footfalls. She spoke quickly and quietly. "If I choose to love or marry a man, I will do just that. And I'll continue to kill vampires while I do it."

The door opened and Kritanu strode in, carrying a very large tray. He glanced curiously at Victoria, and then Max, likely noticing the tension in their faces, but he said nothing. Placing the tray on the sideboard near Max, he gestured to the teapot and cups. "Please, Miss Victoria, you may pour your tea and perhaps help yourself to a biscuit."

At Aunt Eustacia's home, it was an informal affair, as they were all treated as equals in the fight against Lilith.

"Eustacia will return momentarily. Our guest has arrived."

"Guest?" Victoria asked, assessing Max. Yes, he'd known—just as he knew the purpose for this meeting, and she did not. Why did everyone appear to know everything except for her?

As she poured her tea, adding a dollop of cream, Victoria stewed. Certainly she was the newest Venator, but Aunt Eustacia had made it clear that she was an instrumental part of the group. Why, then, did the rest of them talk about things that she knew nothing about? Keep information from her?

It was Max. He'd said it earlier—if he had his way, she wouldn't be a Venator; she would have turned away the opportunity to wear the vis bulla and help rid the world of vampires. Why was he so set against her? Merely because she was a woman? And young?

Were they testing her? Keeping things from her until she proved herself?

All of the Venators were equally skilled, and all had the innate skills and sensitivities to fulfill the Legacy once they received their vis bullae. Did Max truly believe she thought of nothing but balls and gowns and beaux? When she knew that there were hideously evil creatures wanting to take over the world?

True, many young women her age did think of little but finding a husband; after all, that was what had been drummed into their heads since the moment they were out of leading strings. But surely he'd seen by now that she was more than just another debutante. After all, she'd staked a Guardian vampire as he was biting her!

The door to the room opened and in walked Eustacia, followed by a tall, sapling-slender woman. She appeared to be several decades younger than Eustacia, but older than Max by a decade or more, and she brought with her an unusual, earthy scent. Her pale blond hair, as fine as the most delicate of silk threads, was gathered away from her face in a decidedly unstylish tail that hung down the center of her back. She wore a flaxen gown that looked more like a night rail; it was floor-length and fell straight from her shoulders to her feet, yet still managed to portray the shape of her body. Her gray-blue eyes glinted intelligently in a pale, serious face, and her lips were a surprisingly vibrant color of pink. She looked ethereal and clear-sighted, as if she could see things that others could not.

"You are Victoria?"

"I am, but I am afraid you have the advantage of me." Victoria didn't know whether to stand and curtsy, or remain seated with her cup of tea as the woman moved to stand in front of her. The earthy scent, which was not unpleasing, followed her.

"Victoria, this is Wayren. She is not a Venator, but she is a valuable help to our cause," Eustacia explained. "She has deep knowledge of ancient cultures, legends, and mysticism through her extensive library. She acts as a resource to us when we need her assistance."

"I'm very pleased to meet you," said Victoria, meaning it.

"Hello, Max," Wayren said, turning. Max stood, and although she was a tall woman, he loomed fully a head taller than she.

He took her hand and raised it to his face, gently brushing it with his cheek instead of his lips, then releasing it. "Wayren, how wonderful to see you again. You look well."

"And so do you, Max," she replied with a smile that transformed her face into one of delight and humor. "It has been well over three years since the last time we worked together. Apparently you are no worse for wear."

Max laughed gently and Victoria stared. It was the first time she had ever heard him laugh with real delight. "Indeed not. Now, you are here to tell us about the Book of Anwarth."

Aunt Eustacia gestured to a chair, and when Wayren took her seat, Victoria noticed that she carried a large satchel that appeared to be quite heavy. It thumped awkwardly when she let it slump to the floor.

"Yes, and also to determine what Lilith wants from it. Eustacia contacted me as soon as she learned that she was trying to obtain the book. It took me some days of travel to arrive." Wayren looked at Victoria. "I come from a long distance."

"Did you find anything in your library that might help?" asked Eustacia, taking a seat herself in the chair that was always reserved for her, next to the piecrust table.

Wayren leaned down toward her satchel and, flipping it open, pulled out a sheaf of paper and a battered book. "My library is organized in such a way that it is simple to locate nearly anything by following a number system by topic. I found several mentions of something called the Book of Antwartha; Max, is it possible that you misunderstood the word and that it is Antwartha instead of Anwarth?"

He nodded. "I would say. I was in a situation that did not provide a perfect environment for listening."

"I am not surprised to hear that." Wayren smiled. "That makes things easier, as I wasn't able to find anything referencing 'Anwarth.' Apparently…" She paused, and dug back into her satchel. When she straightened, she was wearing a pair of square-shaped spectacles that gave her face a completely different look. More austere than fey, Victoria thought. "The story behind this book has its origins in the Indus Valley, in the country of your ancestors." At this she nodded at Kritanu, who had taken a chair next to Eustacia. "You were correct that there is a connection with the goddess Kali."

"Kali… yes, she is known in India as the Queen of the Dead. She rules over death, but she is not an evil goddess, as death is a state that we all must encounter. Legend has it that she bore a child who was half demon and half god. This child was known as Antwartha." Kritanu's shiny hair, pulled into a short club at the back of his neck, gleamed blue-black as he nodded at Wayren, as if passing the tale back to her to continue.

"It is this demonic child of Kali who legend says gave his early followers the so-called wisdom in the Book of Antwartha. The book contains rituals and rites for utilizing the blood of the living as sustenance for the immortal followers of Antwartha—known as hantus, or, in your language, vampires."

"Lilith believes this ancient book is in London; that is why she's here, isn't it?" Victoria said. "How did an ancient manuscript get here? From India?"

"Likely in some manner of trade between England and her colony of India," replied Max. "Ships back and forth between London and Calcutta could easily have carried it here."

"Yes, I can see that. But why now? How did it happen that Lilith just now found it?"

Wayren shook her head. "I do not know; Max, do you?"

He frowned. "My… source wasn't as willing to give information as I was to receive it, unfortunately, and at some point I had to put her out of her misery. All she told me was the name of the object Lilith is seeking, and even then I did not hear her properly. It is fortunate that Wayren was able to translate my miscommunication."

"If the book is indeed in London, our first course of business, whilst Wayren continues to study her resources, is to locate the book before Lilith or her Guardians do," Eustacia spoke. Victoria noticed that Kritanu had closed his fingers over her hand as if to provide support.

"That is imperative." Wayren pulled her spectacles away and looked at each of them in turn, including Victoria. "According to my information, the Book of Antwartha contains powerful spells and incantations utilizing malevolent power. If Lilith obtains this book, she will have the ability to raise demons at will by the legion. There will be no way to keep her at bay, even if we call all Venators here. She will overcome the world of mortals and we will all become her slaves… or worse."