NIGHTWORLD

18: Silence in the Snow

“Tell me what you think," Kadir said, glancing back at Devna. 

“Who is to say," she replied. “It would appear quiet, and I saw nothing scouting around the edges. But that does not mean much."

            The group were hunkered down in a snowy copse, shivering in the dark as they stared up at the small manor that rested on the cliff. Kristian had identified a sign a few hundred metres back that read 'Chateau De Vaune', but if anyone did still reside there, they didn't make it known. 

Kristian and Noah had been fascinated about the use of French over Wallachian, but Kadir quickly shushed them.

“No light, no movement," Devna continued, fiddling with the sight on her rifle. Unlike the others she seemed perfectly happy in the shin-deep snow, her rosetted fur perfectly blending in with the surroundings. Even Jaro was cold – what would his father have said? 

Probably some bullshit about how no true Hungarian would ever dare admit to feeling chilly. Sandor never had much tolerance for others' discomfort.

“I saw broken windows, run down supports, dust and cobwebs. There are no horses in the stable, the place shows all signs of being abandoned." 

“The Big House looked abandoned too," Jaro murmured.

“And Orobos?" Noah asked. “You saw it too?"

The snow leopard shrugged. “As much as one could. I trust it is below the cliffs, but for now there is only darkness and fog to see."

Jaro checked his watch – it was technically dawn, though the sun had yet to make any meaningful appearance. “Hopefully that clears soon. So, do we go in? I'm freezing."

“You being cold isn't a good enough reason to risk the team's safety," Kadir growled. A short moment passed, and he sighed. “But the team needs some proper shelter. Let's get them inside." 

Noah whistled back to the others, signalling for them to come up and join the approach.  

It had taken Team Two several days to cross the Deadlands, the going often slowed by thick marsh waters or blocked paths. Their rations were running out, and Frankie had ordered everyone to switch to half-serves, with Devna and Noah occasionally hunting the odd rabbit or deer to help supplement the meals. Lately however, even foraging had grown scarce, and as they left the swamp behind, so too had they left behind all wild animals.

Just like Chevron said, Jaro thought. Not much dares to stick its neck out here. 

The team approached the chateau slowly, weapons raised, fanning out as they moved. Ioana wasn't familiar with any kind of modern tactics, and so instead she stuck close to Kristian, handgun outstretched in her one remaining arm. 

Jaro had to agree with Devna's sentiment, though he couldn't fault Kadir for being cautious. To call Chateau De Vaune 'run down' was almost a compliment. The small manor was squat, a large rectangular brick building constructed with little in the way of ornamentation. The main attraction was a lighthouse-esque tower spiralling up from the centre, lines of dark glass surrounding the upper levels. Kadir wanted a proper view of Orobos, and the rest of the team wanted to sleep somewhere their eyes wouldn't freeze shut during the night. 

Nobody knew what to expect from Zakhar, and after the struggle of Steambreather, it felt like they were all content to drag their heels. The initial energy propelling them through Nightworld was gone along with Isla, and every face in the team was tired and worn down. 

Wait much longer and the vampires won't have to kill us, Jaro thought. We'll starve. 

“Here, stack up," Frankie called, bracing up against the chateau's front door. Jaro inhaled sharply, pressing the butt of his rifle deep into his shoulder. 

Noah put an ear to the building's door. “I don't hear anything." 

“Vampires are quiet, remember?" Kadir hissed. 

“On me," Frankie said, cautiously racking her shotgun. “Stick close, no idea what we might find… could be empty, hey? Surely us drongos earned a bit of good luck already." 

“Yeah, just kick the fucking door in."

Jaro tensed, gritting his teeth as the dingo stepped out, delivering a swift boot to the crumbling door. The hinges must have disintegrated into mostly rust, because the second Frankie's foot hit the door, it was ripped out of place and fell inward, slamming down in an echoic shower of dust. 

She pushed inside, flashlight up. Jaro was close behind her shoulder, rifle sweeping as the team entered like water into a ship's breach. His light panned across dusty furniture, before quickly catching on the face of a thrall. Jaro flinched at the sight of the open mouth, squeezing his trigger and blowing the thing's head apart. Behind him the rest of the team began to call out, lights flashing, two more shots popping off, deafening in the echoic lobby. 

“HOLD!" Frankie cried, “DAMN IT, HOLD IT, TAMASI!" 

Jaro stopped, frowning deeply as he aimed his rifle down at the dead thrall. The monster's head had crumbled like it was made of stone, and the entire thing had collapsed to the ground, half-shattered. 

“What the hell is this?" He asked, stepping closer as his brain struggled to put it together. He'd seen it, eyes wide and shining, teeth large. With a boot he nudged the corpse, it was like ash.

Or ice. 

Frankie cracked a flare, red light instantly bathing the chateau lobby as she held the smoking light overhead. Jaro's racing heart finally slowed as he looked around, lowering his gun. 

“Holdya bloody fire, fuckwits!" Frankie cried, whirling round to face them, flare up and flickering. She nudged Jaro's shoulder. “You're killin' icy-poles there mate." 

He followed her stare, noting the twelve or so other thralls stood around the chateau lobby, each one frozen solid. No company for them but the dust and many spider-webs clinging to every nook and cranny. 

“Oh," Jaro said, flicking his safety on. 

“Too cold even for them," Ioana remarked, walking up and pushing one of the frozen thralls. It toppled over like a chess piece, smacking into the ground and bursting into a hundred tiny fractured shards. “The Dreamless rules at the ends of the world, not even his demons run hot enough to survive." 

“It still doesn't mean the place is safe," Kadir growled. 

“Wouldya lay off, Kadir?" Frankie said, slinging her gun over one shoulder. “Really mate, have you ever just sat and breathed for a moment in your life? This place is an icebox." She kicked at the shattered claw laying on the ground, sending it spinning off into the darkness. She lowered her voice, leaning in. “They could use a bloody break, right?"

“When we know it's safe," Kadir growled. “Jaro," he continued, snapping his fingers. Jaro felt his skin prickle, a shiver running down his spine. The two of them had barely spoken the last few days, it seemed that the caracal could hardly stand to look at him. “Take Kristian and go upstairs, I want to know if that tower is clear. We need a view of anything that might approach." 

Jaro tried to remember what Kristian had told him. That he needed to wait, and let Kadir come back on his own terms. You stubborn idiot.

“Fine," he growled, spinning on his heel and gingerly taking the stairs to the second floor, Kristian following close behind, a small machine gun clutched in his paws.

If Kadir cared about his irritation, he didn't let it show, continuing to dish out orders. “Frankie and Noah, you take the outer grounds. Dev, you and I will clear the ground floor. Someone tell Ioana to help."

“Asshole," Jaro snapped, as soon as they were out of earshot. 

“Even I expected him to cool by now," Kristian said, as the two of them moved from room to room, swiping the thick veils of cobwebs from their path. Most rooms were empty or crumbling, one had the entire floor missing, whatever had been up here had shattered the structure and fallen to the floor below. “Perhaps I was wrong. Maybe it is time to forget Kadir."

“Already forgotten," Jaro said, shining his flashlight down into the sunken debris. “This place reminds me of the Big House. That feels like a million years ago." 

Kristian blew air from his cheeks. “You think this could be another vampire nest?"

“Anything's possible, right?" 

The marten shrugged, following along. “What kind of person do you suspect lived here before?" He pointed to old frames, the pictures within long faded away, leaving only vague hints of shapes. “Was Nightworld ever a place populated by mortals?" 

“If their Dracula is the same as ours, then he's ruled here for at least five hundred years."

“When I spoke with Chevron, she gave the impression that the current regime was established after he returned," Kristian explained. “But a lot has changed, more has been lost. Vampires are fickle, and obviously she does not have any exact details. The Vermilion Cortège haven't exactly kept a strong record of their history."

“People have long memories here." 

“Maybe it's easier when nothing changes. Nightworld is a place of stagnation. Even their technology is so… lopsided. Peasants dig with crudely wrought iron, and yet Belisarius has a factory powered by steam."

“Had."

Jaro pursed his lips as they checked another room, this one decorated with old nooses hanging from the rafters, four skeletons collapsed in pieces on the ground. “Charming."

“It is impossible to say what the true history is," Kristian continued. “I imagine the other Lords all ruled in their own small fiefdoms… and when the Impaler returned, he dragged them into line. Feudalism turned into absolutist monarchy… it's amusing to imagine Nightworld going through an age of enlightenment."

“Oh, yeah," Jaro said, stopping at a wiry spiral staircase. The base of the tower. “They seem very enlightened."

Kristian bristled. “It's referring to a large shift of power in European countries, a centralisation of control and–"

“Spare me, please Kristian," Jaro interrupted, laughing. “You're such a nerd, has anyone ever told you that?" 

“You know, I don't think they have, you must be the first, Jaro." 

Jaro stared up into the tower, putting his foot on the first step and hearing an echoic clang. “This trip has been a lot of firsts, huh?" 

They climbed the staircase, leaving behind the gloom of the chateau and instead being bathed in soft light, the dawn sun finally appearing across the cloudy horizon. These windows still had their glass intact, and they wrapped around every side of the tower, though they were tinted, or maybe stained. It changed the quality of light, making it seem somewhat browner than the blinding white of the snow outside.

Jaro stopped as they reached the top, Kristian practically ran into the back of him. 

“What… is it?" The doctor asked, looking over his shoulder. 

“I… am not sure…" Jaro replied, creeping forward, stomach churning. His feet stuck to the metal flooring as he moved, a disgusting suck sound squealing with every movement. It was like a moss or sponge, mixed black and reddy brown sludge. It coated the walls and the floor, draped over the single chair that dominated the centre of the watchtower. It stunk of rust and rotten eggs.

“It's blood," Jaro gasped, as the scent hit his nose. It was foul, putrid even, decades or even older… but it still kicked up an instinct. A thirst, a dryness, and a distant but all-too-real sense of desperation. Frenzy, locked behind a door but begging to be free. “It's always blood." 

Seated in the iron chair at the middle was a figure, embalmed in mould and gore like a mummy. Slowly, Jaro circled the corpse, struggling to make out its features. The figure was half-melted into the chair, fused permanently with the gunk clumped about him. 

“Who do you think it is?" Kristian asked, joining Jaro round the front. 

“De Vaune?" the wolf guessed. “Who else? But what did he do to deserve this?"

It was difficult to tell the species. Looking at the ears, Jaro thought maybe some kind of lynx… once. There was no fur anymore, he couldn't even make out skin. Just cracks of mould. He leaned in, trying to get a better look at the corpse's facial structure.

Then it opened its eyes. 

Jaro leapt back, grabbing Kristian on instinct and shoving him against a wall. He raised his rifle at the mummy, but the creature made no other sudden movements. Instead it only blinked slowly, groggily, staring right at him through milky feline eyes. 

“What the fuck is this?" Jaro whispered, as the corpse continued to come alive. Fault lines appeared through the muck along its neck as the face muscles reanimated, flakes of dirt and dried blood falling free like leaves. 

“Sssssss….." the corpse whistled faintly, putrid air forced through crusty vocal chords. 

“Should I shoot it?" Jaro asked, glancing at Kristian, who only shrugged. 

“He does not seem dangerous." 

“Not yet." 

“Sssssssstraaange…." the corpse croaked, trying to turn its head, mostly failing. “Sssstraaaaan….geeersss. Heeeerre." 

“De Vaune?" Jaro asked in Wallachian, craning his neck as he leaned in again. “Is that you?"

The corpse rattled at that, jittering in place and shaking the bolts of his chair. 

“De Vaune…" the mummy rasped, eyes wide. Only now did Jaro notice what kept it back – bolts. Driven through the palm of his paws, the caps of his knees, and the sides of his ankles. De Vaune was a prisoner. 

“I. Am. De Vaune." Its head moved shoddily, like an old animatronic at a theme park. As he spoke, Jaro saw flashes of the inside of its mouth, rowed with teeth, two long fangs poking from the roof. 

“Another vampire, who knows how long its been like this?" 

“How are you still here?" Kristian asked. “Who did this to you?" 

De Vaune looked to the doctor, studying him, head bobbing. It took it a minute to compose itself, before finally letting out the word in one long breath. 

“Zzzzzzaaa-khar." 

“I see." 

Jaro turned away, examining the windows. “How come he hasn't burned up? There's less sun out here, but there's not none." 

“My curssse," De Vaune hissed. “To seeeeee my kingdom. Forbidden. Ssssstolen." 

“Must be something in the glass," Kristian said, squinting at the brownish windows. “A mineral that helps block out the UV. You see what I mean about lopsidedness?" He turned back to De Vaune. “What do you mean your kingdom is forbidden?" 

The vampire squirmed, coughing and rasping, unused pieces of his anatomy finally coming back to life. His body undulated beneath the cake of time, though the bolts held him fast. “Oooorobos. Mine, once," he wheezed. “Zakhar and his monsters stole it. From me. Sealed me here. To watch. Left me… to become. An object."

“Do vampires starve? What happens if they don't get any blood?" Jaro wondered aloud, dropping to a crouch and examining the floor in further detail. It had a life of its own, a tiny microbiome of veins and currents stretching through. Mould, mostly.

“Sleep," De Vaune replied. “We sleep. Zakhar… sent just enough. Blood. That I would not. Go down… eeeeaaaasily…" 

“He could have been here for hundreds of years," Kristian muttered in English, staring through the window. “Cursed to watch."

A few hundred metres past the chateau the ground fell away to cliffs. Nestled into the crags below, shielded from the worst of the blizzards, was Zakhar's frozen empire. Orobos. 

“It looks so normal from up here," Kristian said.

Orobos was a wide, octagonal city bordered by tall brick walls. With the combined might of the natural fortification, plus the many watchtowers and portcullises built into the walls, Orobos was a near-impenetrable fortress. Who is Zakhar so concerned about?

Owing to the wind, most buildings were built low, the tallest of them reaching only a few stories from the ground. Between the squat houses stood windmills, larger A-frame structures that turned in the breeze, the rocks surrounding the city turning it into a natural wind tunnel. It was difficult to tell from this far away, but the streets looked compact, narrow, and brutal in their layout. To Jaro's eyes it was a maze, a rat nest designed to confuse and oppress any trapped within it. 

The one exception to the low buildings was Zakhar's keep, a sky-scraping tower that dominated the city, ornamented with gargoyles and buttressed by multi-spined side towers, the centre spire capped by a glass dome. On the face turned five colossal wind vanes, each blade easily five times larger than the smaller windmills built amongst the city streets. 

“Lightning rods," Kristian pointed to the castle, where three metal rods jutted from the tip of the dome. “What is he doing in there?"

“And a mine," Jaro added, pointing to a great scar carved into the cliff-face behind the keep. It seemed no resource would be left untapped by the Dreamless.

“Svengali," De Vaune shuddered. “Nothing is sacred. Everything is to be used, even our kind. Soon. Soon Zakhar will know everything. Then even Dracul may tremble."

“Not much that vampires hold sacred," Jaro replied, looking back at the mummified creature. “Is that Zakhar's goal then? He wants to… know everything?"

“My kingdom…" De Vaune croaked. “My wives... my Orobos. Once. There were rules. But Zakhar. Dracula. This new order…" He hissed, starting to jerk in place. 

“New order?" Kristian muttered. “How old is he, do you think?" 

“Old enough to remember a time before the Cortège. Practically prehistoric." Jaro leaned closer to the agitated vampire. “Tell me about Orobos, and we can avenge you. Tell me how to kill Zakhar."

De Vaune stopped, a sudden striking lucidity falling across his eyes. He stared up at Jaro, a grin breaking out across his face. “Nobody in Orobos sleeps. All blood will dry up. The sun will die. And every bone will be dust. Zakhar dreams and the world bleeds. I know you, Jaroslav. I see your thoughts. I see. What you are. What you will be. And the world. Bleeds."

“I need to know. Please."

Deep in his throat, a dry, rasping laugh sounded. Slow and deliberate. 

“De Vaune, tell me and I'll let you out of this cage!" Jaro growled, lashing out and punching the chair's arm. “You want to rot here?"

“Ah. Ah. Ah. Ah." De Vaune went on, it was almost like hyperventilating, if he had needed oxygen to live. “Ah. Ah. Ah." 

“Does he have a cure?! Fuck you," Jaro growled, seizing the vampire, shaking him. “TELL ME!" 

De Vaune only kept laughing, staring at some far-off place. Gently, Kristian laid a paw on Jaro's shoulder. 

“I think he's gone." 

Jaro trembled with anger, staring into the dead eyes. Kristian was right. There were so many questions, and no answers. 

Sighing, Jaro drew the silver stake sheathed on his belt, ramming the point straight into De Vaune's chest, cracking the ribs and punching through the dust. The vampire started, jaw hanging open as a long, thin wheeze eked out of him. 

Jaro yanked the silver free as cracks appeared across De Vaune's form, sparks crackling as he became ash, collapsing to rubble and joining the rest of the filth. 

“Disgusting."

“Have a look at this," Kristian said, picking up a surprisingly clean booklet. Jaro watched as the marten leafed through it, pages upon pages of the archaic Wallachian scribbled throughout. 

He wiped his stake off on his trousers. “What does it say?" 

“I'm… not certain, it is written in very technical language," Kristian admitted. “But I think it's a log, about De Vaune." He looked back at the empty chair, brow furrowed. “This was torture, that much is clear. A punishment. Zakhar took control of the city and locked him away up here… it was a humiliation, but it was also an experiment."

Jaro inhaled, nodding. “Is he likely to come back? Check on his petri dish?" 

“I don't think so… the last entry was over six years ago." 

“Then we're safe enough, at least for now." Jaro went back to the window, staring down at the windmill city lodged into the crevice. Almost seemed peaceful from up here. Was it like Brada? A glorified slave camp to Zakhar's will? Was it something worse? 

What are you doing out here? 

There were many paths leading into the city. Stretching out around like vines, reaching into the wider world. Jaro saw carriages and wagons coming and going, some of them with huge baggage trains. Trade was important to the Lord of Orobos, more than it had been for Belisarius. But who does he trade with? Dracula? Someone else? 

It was surprisingly advanced. Many roads had been cut into the cliffsides, jack-knifing back and forth to allow the carriages a path through the ice and stone. Jaro saw rudimentary elevators too, operating with counterweights like something out of a medieval film.

Orobos was much larger than Brada. That was a large town, this was a city. Smaller than any modern-world equivalents, but grandiose by the scale of Nightworld. 

And all of that, under his command.

“What do we do with this?" Jaro asked, gesturing back at the filth-spattered chair. “Every time we learn something new, it's just one more useless piece of the puzzle." 

“Not much to do," Kristian admitted. “But it is interesting to get confirmation that there was a time before Dracula." He hesitated, uncomfortable, on the precipice of saying something. 

“What?" 

“Jaro…" The marten stumbled. “I only… about this cure."

“I know it's a pipe dream. But if it's really down there, I have to try."

“No, it may be that Zakhar has one, sure." Kristian sighed. “Anything is possible. What I worry about is what he might want in exchange for it. A procedure like that… it won't be simple."

Anger flared in the pit of Jaro's stomach. “You think I don't know that?" He took a step closer, jaw clenched so hard it hurt. “I cannot become one of these fucking things, Kristian. I'm already halfway there, halfway dead. It's only thanks to your serum that we've managed to subdue this parasite… but I can still feel it… eating away at me. Bit by bit, almost… too small to notice. And you don't know what that's like, but it's terrible. Maybe I can stop it."

“And I want you to stop it, I'm…" Kristian hesitated. “I'm terrified of losing you, after only just finding you. But I can't forget, that so far we have only seen the brutal side of them. Vampires like Ashani, the Lady, Fyodor, Belisarius… they didn't need to convince us of anything. They could kill us by force. Zakhar might be different."

“You been spending a lot of time with Kadir, Kristian?" Jaro asked. “Sounds like the kind of thing he'd think. From the moment we met he always saw the worst in me."

“Now I'm not sure that's fair." 

Avoiding the question? Jaro thought. He'd seen the two of them, chatting up late at night sometimes. Did he think I wouldn't notice? 

“Try to breathe, alright?" Kristian said softly, stepping closer, his boots squelching on the floor. 

Realising his paws were bundled into fists, his teeth throbbing, Jaro let out a breath, allowing the air to ease out of him. “I'm… sorry. I didn't mean to bite your head off." 

They'd spent so long out in the wilderness of Nightworld now, he felt like he was living in a trance. A state of constant confusion and frustration. Kadir wouldn't speak, and even with Kristian things moved slowly. Jaro didn't know where he stood, and all throughout that was the ticking clock, a constant running out of time that only he seemed worried about. 

In his mind he saw Fyodor, slaughtering Isla right before their eyes, zero remorse. 

Would I really kill you? He wondered, staring at the marten. It was difficult to imagine wanting to hurt him; his soft face, his kind but attentive eyes. He tried to picture Chevron's runes. Could I? 

How long until he found out?

“Let's go find the others," Kristian offered, reaching his paw out and snaking it into Jaro's, leading him out of the watchtower tomb, stairs echoing beneath their feet.

As they returned to the empty halls of the chateau's upper floor, Kristian's radio crackled to life, the speaker half-broken, distorting Frankie's voice.
“Hey doc, you and wolfie got a sec?" 

“We're good," Kristian replied. “What do you need?" 

“Big barn out the back, could use a spare set of paws. Something's moving, for real this time." 

“On our way." 

They found the dingo crouched behind a low stone wall, her gun leaning up against the cobbles. Noah stood next to her, a pair of binoculars held to his face. Roughly fifteen metres past their cover stood a square, grey-brick barn. It was long and tall, with a tiled roof and two modest silos attached to the rear end. Old spider-webs clung to the awnings, and some of the roof had fallen in, but other than that it seemed relatively normal.

“Your eyesight really getting that bad, Father?" Jaro asked, stepping up beside them.

“Very funny, lad," Noah replied. “And it's just Noah, you know that." 

“What is the issue with the barn?" Kristian asked Frankie, his brow furrowed. 

“Weird noises," she replied, putting a cigarette to her mouth. “Somethin's movin' around in there alright. Doesn't make me feel good."

“Just a feeling? This is as close as you've been?"

“My gut hasn't been wrong yet, mate. How was the house?" 

“More like a tomb," Jaro said. “We found De Vaune. Turns out he used to rule over Orobos. Zakhar took over and trapped him in the tower, left him up there as a kind of experimental punishment."

“Charming, innit?" Noah said, lowering his binoculars and raising his grenade launcher. “The lengths these leeches'll go to to make a bloody point. Look, Frankie-love, I can't see anything down there to make it worth not blowing up. If you feel that strongly…" 

“And cause an avalanche? Announce us to that whole city? Bloody sappers," Frankie demurred, knocking Jaro's arm. “All they ever see is shit they wanna blow up. C'mon," she hopped the fence, raising her weapon. “Let's you'n me check it. If something eats us, Cardinal Dynamo can avenge us with fire." 

“Frankie," Noah said. “Let's just wait for Kadir and Devna, if there is something in there we shouldn't go unprepared." 

Frankie grinned. “Nah, I ain't here to fuck spiders, mate. Jaro." 

Jaro gave Noah a shrug, vaulting the stone wall and following up behind Frankie. He half-expected something to lunge for him at any moment, appearing out of the snow, or from the barn itself. But like the lobby, nothing came. 

They reached the large sliding doors, pausing outside. Frankie cocked her head, cigarette still expertly balanced in her teeth. “There," she whispered. “D'you hear it?" 

Jaro concentrated, leaning in. He allowed the sounds of the distant wind to fade, focusing instead on the barn. It was silent, solidly built, the only sound that of the creaking ancient wooden doors hanging from the front. There was no telling how many times they'd been replaced over the years.

Then it came. A scuffling, a sliding, almost moist or wet… but not the same way that the gore had been up in De Vaune's tower. Something about it grated on his ears, rubbing him the wrong way. 

“Gut feeling," Frankie winked. “On three. One, two–"

In one fluid motion, she drew the door bolt back with a loud clang, seizing the barn handle and sliding the door all the way to the side, letting it bang loosely into place behind the wall. Frankie's gun was up before it had settled, Jaro's alongside with her, his gag reflex triggering hard in the back of his throat as his eyes took in the sight before him.

“Oh you can fuck off," Frankie hissed, taking a step back. 

In the centre of the barn stood a large stagecoach, with huge wheels and dark metal spikes that ran along the top. It was designed for cargo, with meshed wooden windows and a single-horse harness. There was nothing unusual about the wagon. Jaro and Frankie's horror instead came from what surrounded the coach. 

Webs. Dozens and dozens of glistening thick spider-webs lanced across the entire space of the barn, a fractal maze of gossamer fluid impossible for any non-arachnid to pass through freely. Jaro saw strands as thick as his fingers, sickly person-sized cocoons clinging to the many pillars of the barn. 

“I've never met a spider before," Jaro mumbled, his spine tingling and popping, every instinct in his body telling him he was covered in bugs. He resisted the urge to itch. “Are they friendly?" 

“They're pretty reclusive cunts in my experience, even down under," Frankie replied, leaning in to try and get a look at the roof of the barn. It was riddled with little tunnels and latticed caves. Neither of them were game enough to actually cross the threshold. “With good reason too, I ain't prejudice or anything but… I mean… c'mon, right? The bastard that made this basically went and shat this stuff out, yeah?" 

“I guess…" Jaro said, stomach twisting. His eyes widened as he realised what had been making the noise they'd heard. 

It was a deer, a wild feral, hanging nearly a metre off the ground towards the back of the barn, caught in the webs. The body was emaciated and hanging head-down, the only real signs of life an occasional random spasm of the legs – the kick making that uncomfortable sound as it vibrated the network of webs. It was trapped, but otherwise un-eaten. 

“Someone didn't come back for their meal," Frankie said, narrowing her eyes. “Take a look, s'pose that's why." Jaro followed her gaze to the corner of the room, where a large husk laid on its back, eight furry legs as thick as Jaro's own clenched up, a once-bulbous abdomen deflated like an old balloon. 

Two grey arms reached out from beneath the corpse; insect species always had unusual anatomy.

“Thank God it's dead." He put his back to the infested barn, trying not to retch. “You don't think Zakhar has more of these things do you?"

“Hoping to see more of these things down in Orobos?" Frankie teased. 

“I don't wanna find out that windmill is full of fucking tarantulas, man, sue me." Jaro sighed. “Maybe he was left here to look after De Vaune." 

The dingo turned back to the barn, wrinkling her nose at the sight. There was a smell of rotting flesh in the air. Preserved meals for later, now left uneaten forever.

Jaro imagined Zakhar's tower, filled with giant vampire spiders. It was almost laughable, if it wasn't so revolting.

“What's the word mates?" Noah asked, approaching slowly, his grenade launcher slung over one shoulder. “Are those… webs? Where's the resident creeper?" 

“Check it," Frankie said, jerking her chin at the husk.

“Your gut was right, at least sort of," Noah whistled, with Kristian circling around behind him.

“I think the wagon presents an opportunity," Kristian said, whiskers twitching as he stared at the web-logged stagecoach. “From the tower we saw plenty of roads travelling in and out of the city. Dozens of travellers. We could disguise ourselves as merchants bringing in cargo."

“That's…not a bad plan," Frankie admitted. “Noah, you got something for this gunk? I wanna make sure every last ick is burnt off. Flamethrower would be ideal, please."

“This'll have to do." Jaro watched as the bear dropped his pack on the snowy ground, drawing out a machete to hack away at the webs. The wolf could only watch with disgust as he and Frankie ventured deeper into the barn, the half-dead deer above them still kicking in a vain attempt to be free. What if Orobos was swarming with those things? Could Zakhar be one himself? Jaro would rather fight an army of thralls than just one of these spider-people. 

Trying to swallow his repulsion, Jaro followed in behind Frankie and Noah.

“Does it have enough room for the whole team?" Noah asked, slashing at more webs. 

Getting closer to the stagecoach, Frankie peered in through one of the mesh screens. “It's pretty gross inside, but if you don't mind mould and gunk I think it would. We'd have to board up the windows though. You think they check coaches coming through?"

“Why would they?" 

Frankie sniffed, dusting loose strands of web from her shoulder. “I wanna know what it's storing, let's open it up."

Jaro flinched as Kristian tapped him on the shoulder. “Hey, look at this." 

He followed Kristian to the spider corpse in the corner. Spiders were a rare people, choosing to keep their culture distant and reclusive, due to the fact they shared far more anatomy with their wild counterparts than most species. Shivers ran down his spine as Jaro studied the corpse, the thick eight legs, the saggy abdomen, and the torso stretching up, head missing. There were so many overlapping limbs and details, it was difficult to tell specific bits of it apart.

“I am not the most educated about arachnid anatomy," Kristian said. “But does it look like a dead body to you?" 

Jaro frowned. “Yeah, it's just…" His stomach turned inside-out as it finally clicked. The body was hollow, like a shell. “It's just a fucking moult. FRANKIE!"

He whirled as the others turned to face him, a massive shape suddenly dropping from the ceiling, crushing Noah beneath it. 

Jaro instantly started firing, trying to be cautious not to hit Noah. The spider skittered back, one claw on the end of its arm slashing away at Noah's chest as it dragged him towards one of its little hovels. 

“Get OFF HIM!" Frankie cried, firing her shotgun into its back. Ichor sprayed out but the beast didn't slow. 

“TRESPASSERS!" The spider snarled, spinning in place and smacking Frankie with its abdomen. The dingo was thrown backwards, tripping deeper into the barn as she fell into a clutch of webs, instantly sticking in place. 

“Fucking cunts!" she cried, trying in vain to reach for her gun, each flail only tying her down more.

Jaro's bullets ripped through the spider's pale body, the creature wailing as it skittered back, rocking the stage coach as it scrambled across it, a blur of legs and motion. 

“Go, get clear!" Jaro cried to Kristian, trying to inch closer towards Frankie and the dropped machete. “Noah, you alive over there?" 

“I… ah… still here…" the bear gasped, still lying flat on his back. Jaro spared him a glance, and saw a splatter of blood across the wagon's side. Not good. 

He could see the shadow of the spider behind the carriage, hunkered in place, shifting back and forwards in the gloom. It towered over them all, easily seven, nearly eight feet tall, built like a centaur and rippling with powerful muscles beneath its exoskeleton. 

“Does thou know what my venom will do?" The thing chittered in Wallachian, its voice metallic and echoey. “One bite to paralyse your body…" 

Between the wheels Jaro caught a glimpse of its face. Too many eyes, quivering hairs, large venomous fangs dripping with saliva. Vampire teeth? Or normal spider biology? It was hard to tell in the darkness. 

“Thee will become a prisoner in thine own flesh," the spider cried, even the sound of its many legs causing Jaro's stomach to turn foul. “My acid will eat away at you, rotting your frail forms from the insides out. Burning blood. There is no relief, there is no salvation."

Definitely a vampire, talking like that.

It tried to scurry around the back of the wagon, and Jaro tried to head it off, firing several booming shots through the back portion of the carriage. The creature wailed, slamming itself back, rocking the stage coach in place, every cloying web in the barn shuddering from the movement. 

“When your body rots with you still inside, there is nothing but pain left!"

“Get me bloody free and we'll squash this bug!" Frankie cried, trying hopelessly to tear herself out of the sticky webs.

Jaro ignored her, as he dashed left the spider went right, when he moved right it shot around left. Cat and mouse, played about the centre of the wagon. He let off a few more warning shots, enough to let the monster know he could do damage, but he was mindful of his clip. The spider was incredibly fast, one reload and he'd be dead.

“We don't have to fight!" Jaro tried, careful to keep his rifle up. “Nobody needs to die." 

“You came for De Vaune!" The spider replied. “That fat nobleman is mine, by order of Lord Zakhar, he stays! HE STAAAYS!" 

“Can never do things the easy way," Jaro muttered. He tore a flare from his belt, cracking the top and tossing it deeper into the back of the barn. The spider reacted, retreating up the wall, support beams and old wooden struts cracking beneath its massive weight. Jaro seized the distraction, vaulting through the wagon's front seat, gun up, trying not to let his brain actually see the creature hovering above him. He squeezed off a shot, two, yellowish-black bile exploding out of the arachnid's torso as he shot it. The thing twisted, convulsing, spiralling around the ceiling like a rollercoaster, its legs a constant low reverberation, drums rolling in the deep. 

Emptying the last of his rifle's clip, Jaro dropped the gun and let it hang by his side, quickly drawing his pistol and firing up at the spider. It seemed to clue in fast that this weapon wasn't as deadly, narrowly avoiding gunfire as it spurred towards him, twisting off the back wall and leaping towards him. 

Jaro dived for the wagon, crashing onto his belly and scrambling beneath it as the monster raged, smashing through barrels. 

“DE VAUNE IS MINE!" It cried. “MINE! MINE! MY CHARGE! MY BLOOD!" 

Jerking beneath the stage coach, Jaro looked back to see the eight glistening eyes staring at him, fangs gnashing, two elongated arms twisting to grab him. He kicked back, crying out as one massive claw crushed his shin, sending splint pain shooting through his leg. 

“He made me so great! I wonder what our Dreamless Lord will turn you into?!" The spider hissed, dragging Jaro towards its chomping mouth. Abandoning his gun, the wolf reached for his chest, pulling out his silver stake and stabbing at the spider's arm. He punctured through its exoskeleton with a sharp crack, first through the forearm, and then in the side of its head. Steam burst like from a pipe, and the monster released him in shock, skittering backwards and tearing free half his own webs. “Burning deeeeeep," the monster cried. “Deep, pain, trespassers… vile metals won't SAVE them!" 

“I don't give a shit about De Vaune!" Jaro screamed, kicking himself free to the other side. He seized Noah's dropped grenade launcher, rolling onto his back and firing through the stagecoach's underbelly. The pellet flew with a shunk, colliding with the spider as it exploded in a small burst of fiery chaos. The side wall of the barn exploded in a hail of bricks as the spider was thrown out in a tumbling mess, the wagon above Jaro and Noah rocking so much it nearly tipped, eventually reeling back to slam down on all four wheels again.

Climbing to his feet and staring through the hole in the wall, Jaro half expected to see a repeat of Belisarius, hoping the spider would just explode into ashes under the sun. But here in the snow and ice, thick winter clouds were the vampire-arachnids salvation. 

He watched as the monster scurried forward, torso aimed low as it fled towards the house. Ambush predator, retreat and attack again.

“Kadir!" Jaro realised. The others had no idea what was coming. 

Kristian stepped out again, firing his gun at the fleeing spider to no avail. Puffs of snow exploded behind it, as the creature hit the side of the chateau and went dashing up and across without losing a step. It wormed its way to a cracked opening in the roof, burrowing into the manor. It was foul, Jaro's skin still crawling beneath his fur.

Checking that Kristian was alright, Jaro pointed back at Noah and Frankie. “Look after them, I have to warn the others!" 

“Yes-yes, go now!" Kristian snapped, shoving him onwards. 

Jaro fell into a dead sprint, hurling himself forward, legs burning as the snow did its best to slow him. In one paw he held the gore-smeared stake, in the other his half-empty, mostly useless pistol – the grenade launcher would be too dangerous inside the chateau, it was half as likely to bring the whole thing down around them.

Panic nipped at Jaro's heels. All he could picture was that creature dropping down onto Kadir, cocooning him in webs and feeding on his corpse. When your body rots with you inside, there's nothing but pain left.

Muffled through the manor walls, he heard gunfire and crashing coming from inside the manor. They were dying. All of them.

No, no, he thought. I'll break that thing in half. He would. He would tear its legs off, and crack its shell, and split its abdomen as he dragged it into the sun to burn. He'd rip out its heart like he did to Fyodor, drink its blood, and bury it. I killed the Lambcatcher. I killed the Lady. This is just another monster. 

He burst into the manor with a dying cry in his throat, panting through the cold air.

The chateau was dark inside, the old building creaking. Jaro's ears pricked up but he couldn't hear much – no voices, no screaming, only silence. That thing was in here, somewhere, hunting Kadir, Ioana, and Devna. 

Jaro crept slowly back towards the lobby, the wooden floorboards creaking loudly with each step, his weapons raised. As he stared, the shadows receded, stripping further away the deeper he moved. With the new knowledge of what dark creatures inhabited this place, suddenly the cobwebs and mould took on a more sinister approach. How had he missed it? Large strands of sticky web in the corners of the rooms, huge veils covering doorways. 

“Kadir?" He whispered, gingerly creeping through the lobby full of frozen thralls, making towards the eastern side of the chateau. He passed through a dining room, the table legs smashed by some great weight, bullet holes riddling the walls.

Following the spider, Jaro moved into the kitchens. His boots stuck to the floor, more and more of the webs beginning to cover the walls and entryways, some new but most of them old. This was the creature's favourite part of the building. How did we miss this?

Tracking the chaos, Jaro circled around a stack of old wine barrels to find himself staring down into a pit. An open cellar. Dark wooden steps that receded into nothingness.

For a split-second, Jaro was a child again. In his parent's kitchen, sent down into the basement to feed the old furnace his father's father had built. 

“Don't be so yellow, pup!" His father would bark. “You're a wolf, aren't you? Act like it already!" 

He didn't feel like a wolf now. He felt… helpless. Swallowing the dry lump in his throat, Jaro took a step forward.

As his boot came down on that first step, he was back in Hungary.

He just told his father he'd been back for a year.

Hadn't yet told him he liked men.

Hadn't begun to think about telling him of Boz. 

So many failures. 

What a letdown of a son.

Pathetic.

That thing was in the basement, he could feel it, the one trying to control him, the thing that wanted to eat him. The predator. 

I'm the prey. 

It wasn't the same cellar. He took another step, half in Nightworld, half in Hungary. His eyes weren't entirely mortal anymore. Vampire sight. Jaro could see in the dark.

That didn't mean he wasn't scared of it. 

Kadir is down there. The others. Your friends.

He steeled himself, blinking now fully in Nightworld, letting his mind grow hard to the fear of it. He was a wolf. He wasn't afraid of the dark, or of some spider. The nervous ticklings across his skin slowly quelled, nausea sinking away as he continued to descend into the darkness.

“I know you're down here," he said aloud, voice echoing in the tight bricked space. The cellar webs were thick like in the barn, hanging in all manner of directions, sucking sound from the air like a sponge sucking water. A clear path ran through the grey tendrils, and Jaro followed it, his resolve hardened. 

“Ja… Jaro?" A voice croaked, he turned to see Ioana, stuck against the wall, blinking through a haze. Her fur was matted from the webs, plastered against her body. “Is that you?"

Pulling some of the webs from her face, Jaro nodded. “Are you alright Ioana?" 

“B…bruised, confused," Ioana said. “Alive. Second time… a vampire… is surprising me." 

“I'll kill it," Jaro said, jerking his head deeper. The old fox nodded slowly. 

“Be careful." 

He went further in, to a small clearing much like the one in his own home. A dead furnace. Stacks of rotten books. All of it snared in a foul spider-web, glistening fluid clinging to the strands. Kadir was against the back wall, the spider-web structure reaching across him like an infection, so much his body could hardly be seen. Webs pulled his face to one side, and blood dripped from his shoulder. Jaro ran up to him, trying to tear away the webs. 

The caracal coughed, cracking one eye, the other covered. “Jaro?" 

“Did it bite you? Kadir, did it bite you?" 

“I don't… think so…" He coughed. “Don't… fuck… don't let me become food." 

“Yeah, no, I won't." 

“Kill me, burn me," Kadir croaked. “Don't let it eat me." 

“I won't," Jaro snapped, ripping a strip of web free. “Where'd it go?" 

Kadir jerked his head to the side. “There." 

Jaro paused, looking across. To the side of the room, inside the funnel. 

A large hole built entirely out of the grey webs, a deep receding cave. With his new sight, Jaro saw the tips of the spider's legs resting deep within, rustling, waiting to lunge. 

I am not afraid of you. 

“I am not afraid of anything," he whispered, walking to the funnel. The thing shuddered inside, preparing to strike. “I'm not afraid of you." He strode forward, raising his pistol and firing into the webs. 

The spider screeched, shooting out like a gigantic dark hand. It crashed into him with the force of a freight train, venom and saliva spraying, powerful multi-jointed legs trying to wrap him up as webs sprayed forth from the spinnerets, teeth chomping down towards his face. 

They fell backwards together, crashing into the dirt with the spider atop Jaro. He held one arm up across its neck, keeping the shivering fangs only inches from his eyes. It was incredibly strong, pressing on him with the weight of a car. A loose drop of venom fell free, landing on his cheek and sending numbing echoes rippling through the skin. Neurotoxin, like the Lady, this monster had its natural biology combined with that of the vampires. 

“I…" Jaro growled, half in Nightworld, half in Hungary again, trapped as the predator stared him down.

“Am." He jerked himself forward, smashing his elbow into the numerous eyes and getting back a resonant crack. It squealed and tried to tear free. He wouldn't let it, it was his prey now. These people belonged to him. He was the predator.

“Not!" He threw the thing to the side, slamming it into the wall. 

“Afraid!" He drove the stake into its mouth, steam shooting out as it screamed, legs kicking at him. Jaro was drenched in dust and webs, sticking to everything he touched. 

The spider lunged once more, attacking him in with one last flurry of fangs, fists, and legs. He tried to pull away but was tripped over, crawling off. 

“THE DREAMLESS HAS GIVEN ME A DUTY!" The thing hissed, words muffled by the silver stake burning in its jaw. It slammed Jaro down on his back again, hovering over him. “YOU WILL NOT TAKE IT FROM ME!" 

“He's already fucking DEAD!" Jaro screamed right back, kicking up at the face and snapping a fang, throwing himself forward and seizing the stake embedded in the spider's skull, tearing it free and bringing it down in one smooth motion, ramming it back up into where he guessed the thing's heart was with as much strength as he could muster. Exoskeleton cracked as the silver punched through, and the spider froze, jerking. 

It quivered violently as embers rippled out across its large body, Jaro heaving it up off himself and dropping it to one side, limbs already tightly wound as they began to ashify. Must have weighed hundreds of kilograms with all that muscle. 

Picking himself up, he heard the sounds of Frankie and Kristian reaching the cellar, Devna having joined them. Together with Jaro they worked to free Ioana and Kadir, dragging them up out of the feeding pit and back into the lobby. 

“Are you alright?" Jaro asked Kadir, sitting him up against a wall. 

The caracal nodded slowly, glancing down at his chest. The spider's claws had torn free a chunk of flesh, but the wound was relatively light. Jaro did a quick look for any fang marks, and mercifully found none.

“I think you might have a broken rib," Jaro said, pushing gently at his chest, watching the caracal wince. “Here, let me." 

Gingerly, Jaro used a pair of scissors to cut through Kadir's web and blood stained shirt, exposing his muscular but wounded chest. Careful not to hurt him any further, Jaro began to wrap his chest in tight gauze.

“Thank you," Kadir said, still breathless. “I… I fucking hate spiders." He shifted in place, letting Jaro get the bandage around his back. “These past days… I am… Jaro…" 

“Be quiet," Jaro ordered. “I'm just glad you're alright. You're the most fucking annoying man in both our world and this one, yet I can't get enough of you. This is the second time I've saved your life, remember?"

Kadir scoffed, instantly cringing as pain shot through his chest. “Ha, yeah. Tell you what… guess I owe you." 

“Just shut up and enjoy the victory."

Tomorrow, or the next day, they would all go to Orobos in the wagon like Kristian said. Jaro would find Zakhar, and make him cure his parasite. He looked at Kadir, then across the room to where Kristian was attending Ioana. Tears stung at his eyes as he realised how possible it was that he could lose both of them. You almost did today. 

He would find Zakhar. Then everything would be different.

Then he could afford to stop.