When the elf princess, Atalanta, is snatched from her palace and a vampire crashes a ball at the castle, all of Arcamira is on high alert.
To uphold their alliance with the elves and to satisfy their desire for adventure, four young royals set out with a search party to find Atalanta. The small band of warriors quickly find themselves facing down a monster, unlike anything they've ever seen. The vampires and werewolves they believed extinct are rising up under the banner of Tyrannus, a hybrid of two fearsome species forming an army to rid Arcamira of humans and elves...
An act of war. A hybrid king. Adventure awaits, and Arcamira hangs in the balance.
When the elf princess, Atalanta, is snatched from her palace and a vampire crashes a ball at the castle, all of Arcamira is on high alert.
To uphold their alliance with the elves and to satisfy their desire for adventure, four young royals set out with a search party to find Atalanta. The small band of warriors quickly find themselves facing down a monster, unlike anything they've ever seen. The vampires and werewolves they believed extinct are rising up under the banner of Tyrannus, a hybrid of two fearsome species forming an army to rid Arcamira of humans and elves...
An act of war. A hybrid king. Adventure awaits, and Arcamira hangs in the balance.
Atalanta yanked the pearl-encrusted comb down the length of the auburn hair that ended at her hips. Each tangle she met and each accidental scrape to her pointed ears brought a curse from her mouth. She tried to draw comfort from her surroundings. Sitting on a rock in the elf palaceâs enormous orchard and brushing oneâs hair was much more enjoyable than sitting at a vanity. The Arcamirian sun filtered through the treetops, filling the place with green light. Multiple varieties of stone fruits weighed down the limbs.
Atalanta gave the comb one more pass and then tossed it aside as a lost cause. She reached up and plucked a peach from the limb just above her head without having to stand up. She bit into the fruit, sending the juice running down her arm to stain her silver silks. She looked at the mess sheâd made and shrugged. Her father had requested that she âuntangle that wild horseâs maneâ before she made her appearance in the High Court. He had said nothing about maintaining her dress.
She itched to go riding or perhaps challenge Malik to a bit of swordplay or archery. She was not so sure she liked coming of age. As a child, she had yearned to be bigger, so she could fight great battles and rule her kingdom alongside her father. Her father had taught her to handle a sword, ride a horse, and use her magic. He had awakened the need for adrenaline, for excitement. He had encouraged it, and now he wanted her to comb her hair and wear her silks and be a dignified elf of the court because she was âbecoming a fine elvish woman.â If court and political pomp went along with becoming an elvish woman, she wanted no part of it. And why should the change be so instantaneous? Sheâd only turned seventeen yesterday. Why should a birthday mark the end of free-roaming through the woods and castle dressed in leathers and pants and the beginning of dull, polite talk with the High Court dressed in delicate dresses? Why seventeen? It seemed so soon. Her father was nearly three hundred. She was still a babe by comparison.
She flicked the peach pit into a nearby bush with a fast, practiced movement.
The bush shook. Atalantaâs high, pointed ears flicked toward the sound. She must have hit a rabbit with the pit. She rose to coax the animal out, her hand outstretched, sensing the earth from the bottoms of her bare feet to her fingertips, and froze. It did not feel right. Her heartbeat quickened.
âCome out, whatever you are,â she said, her hands clenched in fists at her sides, her green eyes fixed on the bush.
A squat deformity leapt from the depths of the foliage with a battle cry. The creature was no bigger than a human child, but with the muscles of a man. Its spine protruded and curved, and its knees seemed permanently bent so that it waddled toward her. Two necks sprang from its hunched back, carrying two heads, each with its own nose, mouth, and bulging, singular eye. The two heads yelled in unison, revealing large tongues as big as a dogâs, but decidedly human.
Atalanta pressed her back to the rock and let out a cry of disgust. She side-stepped the creature easily as it barreled toward her at a clumsy, waddling run. It pulled up just short of smashing into the rock and turned to face her, identical snarls on both its heads. Atalanta bent her knees in a fighting stance and reached for her sword hilt. Her fingers met nothing but the soft, silver silk of her dress. She looked down at the useless dress with gritted teeth.
The monster lunged, and she placed a strong kick to one of its jaws. It should have sent the creature flying and broken its jaw, but the muscular beast only took a step back and grunted.
As Atalanta placed her foot back on the ground and made to take off toward the palace, she stepped on the hem of her dress and stumbled. Her ingrained balance ensured that she did not fall, but before she could recover, the waist-high beast grabbed a handful of her long, freshly combed hair and yanked.
Hair ripped away from her scalp and something in her neck popped, making her gasp in pain. With its free hand, the beast grabbed her ankle and toppled her. She planted her hands in the earth as she fell, saving her head and chest from impact. She tried to whip her legs around to take the creatureâs out from under it, but it snatched her hair at the crown and tightened an arm around her neck. She struggled on the ground, her feet kicking up grass as she tried to stand and free herself. She clawed at the beastâs arms with her nails, raking bloody lines in the flesh. She jabbed at its eyes over her shoulder, but the heads parted and danced away from her fingers. She put her hands on the ground and tried to push herself upright, but the creature was too strong, and its flexed bicep was cutting off her air. Her vision was slipping, her lungs screaming.
âSleep, little elfling,â said the creature, both mouths speaking in unison so that the words echoed in her ears as she slipped into darkness.
***
Andrewâs sword caught the sun as the blade crashed to the ground.
âCome on, Andrew, you can do better than that,â said Michael, a taunt in his voice and in the curl of his mouth.
Andrew looked at his older brotherâs bulk with an unspoken complaint. Michaelâs muscles shaped his mail into firm hills. He stood a full foot higher than his brother, and his shoulders had twice the berth. He was a near spitting image of their father, right down to the large, somewhat crooked nose and flaming hair.
Andrew favored their mother, with slender shoulders, lean muscle that was lost under his mail, and jet-black hair that he kept shaggy. The family resemblance could be found in their fatherâs blue eyes and sharp jaw.
Panting, with his hands on his knees, Andrew looked over at his sisters, still locked in a duel. Andrewâs twin, Andromeda, was clearly winning. It was all Felicity could do just to block Andromedaâs flurry of attacks. The large lock of inky hair that had fallen loose from her braid and into her eyes didnât seem to impair her vision.
Their grey-haired training master, Archimedes, had his eyes fixed on the girls, for which Andrew was grateful. But if he let his twin outshine him, heâd never hear the end of itânot from her, but from Michael and Archimedes. He picked up his sword and resumed his stance in front of Michael. His breath was still coming too fast. The broadsword was a constant, tiresome weight and felt awkward in his grip. Michael, on the other hand, breathed easy, and tossed his sword from hand to hand. Andrew had a sudden urge to spit.
âTry it again,â said Michael. âYou need to learn how to disarm your opponent. If it comes down to a battle of stamina, youâll lose.â
âWho made you training master?â said Andrew.
Michael lashed out with a vicious downward stroke that vibrated Andrewâs arms when he blocked it. With an angry grunt, Andrew pooled the last of his energy and tried the combination one last time. On the final, upward thrust, Michaelâs sword slipped from his hand. Andrew whooped and punched the air, suddenly revitalized.
âGood,â said Michael, âbut donât let hubris get the best of you.â
Michaelâs dulled broadsword smacked Andrew across the chest in a bruising blow.
âDonât let your sword dangle in the grass,â said Michael.
Andrew struggled for air and gritted his teeth in a snarl. He dropped his sword and rammed his shoulder into Michaelâs chest. Michaelâs heavy mail tipped him off balance, and the two boys grappled furiously on the ground.
Archimedes came trotting toward them, not looking all that concerned. Despite his age, the retired general was still built like an ox. He plunged a hand into the fray, balling a chunk of Andrewâs hair at the scruff of his neck. Andrew did not cry out, but his jaw muscles flexed as if holding in a scream. Archimedes gave Michaelâs midsection a good kick.
âGet up.â
Michael did as he was told. Archimedes tossed Andrew away, and the sixteen-year-old hung his head and eyed the training master like a wounded animal.
âMichael, youâre not the master here. You understand?â
âYes, master.â
âAndrew, you start a cheap scuffle like that again, and Iâll beat you black and blue.â
âAnd Iâll wear each bruise with pride, master,â said Andrew with a wolfish grin.
Archimedesâ hand whipped out and struck Andrew across the face.
âDonât get smart with me. Youâre not princes on this training field, boys; youâre soldiers, and Iâm your commander. No special privilege here. Sass me again and youâll be working the stables the rest of the day.â
âYes, master,â said Andrew, going red at the neck.
âIt might improve his smell,â said Felicity.
The dark-blue eyes fixed on Andrew beneath Felicityâs fair lashes were the only proof that Felicity was an Avalon, and they ensured the false rumors of Queen Isabelleâs possible adultery remained little more than whispered market stall gossip. The origins of her thick blonde curls were a mystery, as was her voluptuous figure. Queen Isabelle was tall, slender, small breasted, and slim hipped. Andromeda was her spitting image. Felicity, however, was of average height, slim in the middle, and round on both ends. She did not share her siblingâs pale, burn-prone skin either. Her skin was a buttery gold that turned the color of perfectly baked bread in the summer.
Though there were four Avalon siblings, Felicity was the true middle child, with the attitude to back it up. At eighteen, she was two years the twinsâ senior and two years Michaelâs junior. She was aware of the rumors surrounding her birth and of the way most men stared greedily as she passed, and she scoffed openly at both.
âEven after a whole day in the stables, Iâll still smell better than Sir Barroth,â said Andrew, referring to a young knight who had caught Felicityâs eye of late.
At Felicityâs wide-eyed disbelief and feral snarl, Andrew smirked and said, âWhat? You thought no one knew?â
âTake it back, imp,â said Felicity, flicking her rapierâs thin blade under Andrewâs chin.
Archimedesâ horsewhip cracked down on Felicityâs wrist, and she dropped the blade with a wounded cry of outrage.
âNo archery today for you three,â said Archimedes, pointing at Michael, Andrew, and Felicity. âYouâre running the course until Iâve sweated all the fight out of you. Iâve had it with your childishness.â
âWhat about her?â said Felicity, jabbing a thumb at Andromeda, as Michael and Andrew groaned.
The course was a battle scenario of Archimedesâ own invention. Enemies made of corn sacks were rigged with levers and pulleys to move about the course, which was made up of obstacles like chicken wire and a large hill of overturned pig troughs that had to be climbed with care. Worst of all, it had to be run as quickly as Archimedes desired, and if a trainee didnât go fast enough, they were assured of some sort of projectile whizzing at their head from the training masterâs considerably strong arm.
âShe hasnât made me consider murder yet today,â said Archimedes. âAnd she put you in the dust, Felicity. If it was a real battle, you would have been dead three times over. She could probably do the same thing to Andrew, too.â
âNot if I had a rapier,â said Andrew, lifting his chin to preserve his dignity. âI donât like broadsword. Itâs too cumbersome. I canât move properly.â
âRapierâs are for woman and children,â said Archimedes. He paused to spit from a hole between his yellow teeth. âBroadsword is a manâs weapon. Youâre a man, now, are you not?â
Andrew flushed, but kept his head high. âYes, master.â
âThen learn to use a manâs weapon. Youâll use the broadsword when you run the course.â
âMaster,â said Andromeda.
It was the second time she had spoken, but her soft voice had been drowned out by her siblingâs complaints and her masterâs outrage.
âYes, Andromeda?â
âI wish to run the course as well,â she said, pushing the annoying strand of loose hair away from her grey eyes. âI donât wish for special treatment.â
âItâs not special treatment,â said Archimedes. âItâs fair treatment. Youâre practicing archery. Thatâs my word, and my word goes. Grab your bow. The rest of you, collect your breath and meet me at the course. If you dally too long, rest assured Iâll let you know it.â
When Archimedes was safely out of earshot, Felicity rapped Andromeda in the shoulder with her middle knuckle.
âBaby Andromeda always gets her way,â said Felicity with a disgusted sneer.
âIf I had gotten my way, I would be running the course,â said Andromeda, rubbing her shoulder.
âSure,â said Felicity. She adopted a soft, mouse-like voice and said, âOh, please, master, I wish to run the course because Iâm the perfect warrior. You may fool him, but you donât fool me. Youâve gotten your way, just like you always do.â
âLeave her be,â said Andrew, stepping between the two girls with his armor centimeters away from Felicityâs. âYou canât blame her for being better than you at everything. Itâs not very hard to do.â
âI would very much like to see you prove it,â said Felicity through gritted teeth.
âQuit it, both of you,â said Michael. âI wonât be getting a lashing because you two canât get along. Iâll drag you to the course if I must.â
Felicity smacked Andrew across the face with her curls as she turned to follow Michael. Andromeda grabbed Andrewâs hand as he made to follow them.
âYou know, Archimedes shouldnât call rapiers womenâs weapons just because heâs useless with one,â she said.
âArchimedes isnât useless at anything,â said Andrew, shoving his twin playfully. âBut thanks.â
***
The Avalonâs palace was an ancient masterpiece of polished stone rising into a half dozen towers. Inside, every wall was hung with dense tapestries, vibrant paintings, and elaborate ironwork that had adorned the passageways for centuries. The four siblings walked down a long, arched hallway, headed for their rooms in the east wing.
âThat old man loves throwing walnuts far too much,â said Felicity, massaging a welt on her neck. âHe ought to have been a squirrel.â
âI think heâs more of a dragon, myself,â said Michael.
âMore like a grouchy old troll,â said Andrew, scratching at his shaggy black head like a dog.
âIâm going to have Cecelia draw me an extra hot bath before the ball,â said Felicity.
âThe ball!â said Andromeda. âUgh, I forgot all about that dreadful thing. I suppose Mother will make me wear a corset.â
âStop complaining, Andromeda,â said Felicity. âAt least you wonât have any bruises underneath your corset. I shall have at least three. Though, I could give you some if you donât want any special treatment. â
Andrew clenched a fist, but Andromeda just sighed softly and kept her grey eyes on the tapestry at the end of the hall. Felicity appraised her with sly, sideways glances. The scowl lines between her soft brown brows vanished into her forehead, and she breathed a small sigh of her own.
âDonât look so dreary, Andromeda,â said Felicity. âBalls are fun. Dance with a boy. Iâm sure if youâre wearing a corset, youâll get plenty of offers.â
âIf Iâm to decide between a boy and breathing, I shall choose breathing every time,â said Andromeda.
But it seemed that Andromedaâs governess had other plans. After a bath that was far too hot, a great deal of rib-cracking corset tugging, and a quick meal of braised lamb and cranberries that she could hardly eat for the terrible compression of her stomach, Andromeda stood next to her siblings in the palace ballroom.
It was the largest and most spacious room in the castle. Its floor was the only one in the castle made of polished wood rather than sanded stone. Hundreds of the human realmâs lords and ladies drifted gracefully across it in their finery. The floor was hardly visible through the mass of colorful silks and satins and the stampede of polished shoes. At intervals around the room, giant, gilded mirrors three times the height of a man were fixed into the walls, making the room look and feel as though it was full of thousands rather than hundreds as the mirrors reflected both the dancers and themselves in endless tunnels. Between the mirrors, broadswords, bows, and maces hung on the wall, fixed into wooden coats of arms of all the noble human families. A spiral staircase led to an upper balcony where even more people looked down on the dancers. The balcony wrapped around the roomâs entirety and was supported by white marble columns. Vines made of pure gold wrapped around each column, the leaves reaching for the balcony as though it was sunlight.
The siblings stood near the far wall, in front of the crimson and silver banners that bore the Avalon family crest: an eagle with a sword clutched in its talons. Their parents, King Markus and Queen Isabelle, sat in thrones just behind their children. They had started the dancing, as was customary, and then had returned to their thrones to observe their court, but their eyes were actually locked on their children. They leaned toward one another over a wooden table laid with wine and goblets for their refreshment, secretly commenting on who had danced with whom and wondering if Andrew or Andromeda would dance at all without prodding.
Felicity scanned the crowd for someone who met her standards. In her royal-blue satin dress with a skirt made of hundreds of bows and her diamond tiara, she was rather imposing in her beauty, and very few young men approached her. Six brave souls out of dozens had asked her, but she had turned them all down with a wrinkled nose.
Andromeda stood next to her in a long-sleeved deep crimson dress with buttons up the back, holding her waist where the dreaded corset was squeezing her. She made it a point not to catch anyoneâs eye and stood slightly behind her siblings. Her hair was pulled up in a braided arrangement, held back by a glittering tiara, but she wished that the annoying lock that usually fell in her eyes was back in place tonight.
Michael looked more dashing than imposing now that he had exchanged his armor for a soft white tunic and a black overcoat embroidered with golden eagles. He had already asked three girls to dance, and all had accepted.
Andrewâs coat was dark-blue and embroidered with silver wolves, but he looked uncomfortable. He watched many girls, but never moved from his twinâs side to ask any of them for a dance.
âI donât see the point of these balls,â Andromeda whispered into Andrewâs ear.
âMe either, but thereâs no escaping,â he replied. âMother loves them.â
Andromeda sighed and watched as an extraordinarily tall man with slender limbs and sharp features approached Felicity and held out a hand for a dance. Andromeda waited for Felicityâs sniffed rejection. This pale man was far too lean for Felicityâs taste. She often remarked that she had no interest in a man she could easily pummel, and preferred thicker built men, usually with dark hair and short beards. This man was also a little too old for her fancy as well.
The man said something Andromeda didnât catch. Felicity curtsied and took the manâs hand. Andromeda went slack-jawed as Felicity followed him into the crowd of dancers. Perhaps she did not know her sister as well as she thought.
Michael shifted over and stood between Andrew and Andromeda.
âYou two better dance with someone or Mother will pick someone for you,â he said. âShe and father have been pointing at the two of you and whispering with their heads together.â
âDamn,â said Andromeda.
âSince when do you curse?â said Michael with mild admiration.
Andromeda made a face at him, and Michael laughed and retreated.
Andrew stepped in front of Andromeda.
âWould you care to dance, dear lady?â
He did an over dramatic bow and held out his hand. She laughed, curtsied, and put her hand in his.
The twins spun around the dance floor, doing all the steps their mother had taught them during their much dreaded lessons as children. Andrew kept spinning Andromeda much too hard on purpose. He held her in the proper form, with one upheld hand in hers and the other on her back, and whipped them around in dizzying circles. The rush was exhilarating, but disorienting. When he released her back and spun her out from him, she collided with another dancing couple, and she and the other woman crashed to the floor in a tangle of satin and metal hoops.
Andromeda tried to stifle her laughter as she apologized to the much older woman, but Andrew had no such qualms.
âHush,â she said through a snicker as she returned to him. âYouâll get us into trouble.â
He held up his hand in answer, and she took it.
âNot so hard this time,â she said. âThis corset already makes me short of breath. I may faint if you make me any dizzier.â
âYouâre Archimedesâ prized warrior, and yet you lose a battle to a corset?â said Andrew.
She pinched him in the ribs and he straightened out, leading her at a pace that actually matched the music. Andromeda looked over Andrewâs shoulder into one of the mirrors. She saw her own smiling face and Andrewâs shaggy black hair. Then, just as Andrew was about to turn her in another direction, she caught sight of Felicityâs golden curls.
She dug her nails into Andrewâs shoulders and planted her feet in order to keep her eyes on the mirror.
âOuch, Andromeda! Iâm keeping pace with the music. No need to draw blood.â
âAndrew, look,â said Andromeda, her voice a harsh, frightened whisper.
Felicity held her hands out in front of her as if they were resting on someoneâs shoulders, but she was dancing by herself. Andromeda and Andrew turned their heads from the reflection in unison and found Felicity in the crowd.She was dancing with the tall, pale man whom Andromeda had seen ask for her hand. Felicity looked into his eyes with a dazed, slack-jawed expression.
âIt canât be,â said Andrew. âCan it?â
Andromeda turned back to the mirror, and Andrew followed suit. Felicity turned on the floor by herself. The twins looked back, eyes fixed on the man with his arms around their sister.
âVampire,â they echoed.
âWhat do we do?â said Andromeda, her usually quiet voice reaching a high, squeaking timbre.
Andrew scanned the room, as if the answer might appear on the walls.
âWe have to get her away from it,â he said, nodding as if to affirm the solution to himself. âIt can only keep her in a trance if it maintains eye contact.â
âYou have to be the one to get her. It will be harder for it to put you in a trance.â
âWhy?â
âYouâre a boy,â said Andromeda, giving him a familiar scolding look for not remembering his tutoring. âIâm going to alert the guards. Try not to let it know youâve discovered it, and donât look it directly in the eyes.â
Andrew watched her dash into the crowd, knocking guests aside with her hoop skirt. He slowly turned back to Felicity and the vampire, suddenly feeling like his bladder might give way. He maneuvered through the crowd and held out a shaking hand to tap the vampire on the shoulder. The vampire froze so quickly that Andrewâs eyes traveled past it before he realized it was no longer moving.
âPardon me, sir,â Andrew said, a noticeable quiver in his voice.
The vampire slowly turned his head and fixed on Andrew with deep, dark eyes. Andrew quickly looked at the vampireâs chin instead.
âIâm afraid I need to borrow my sister for a moment. The king and queen need a word with her.â
âIâm not sure your sweet sister wishes to be ⌠borrowed,â the vampire said in a strange, lilting accent that sounded eerily like the ancient Arcamirian the young royals had been forced to learn since they were children in order to read the old scrolls.
Across the room, Andromeda had nearly reached the ballroom doors where armed guards were posted outside when she spotted Michael holding a pretty girl in a pink dress close enough to stunt the movement of their dance. Andromeda snatched Michael by the arm, making him release the girl in surprise. Andromeda ignored the daggers the other girl shot her way and said, âMichael, I need to speak with you, now.â
Michaelâs jaw tightened in anger for only a moment before he caught sight of Andromedaâs wild eyes.
âWhatâs wrong?â he said, allowing her to lead him away, much to the dismay of the young maiden in the pink dress.
âA vampire has Felicity in a trance,â she said.
Michaelâs laugh was nearly a bark.
âA vampire? Are you sure itâs not just a nobleman who hasnât seen enough of the sun?â
âMichael, please. It has no reflection! Andrew is trying to get her away from it. You have to help him.â
Michaelâs face lost all color. He gripped Andromedaâs arms a little too tight.
âYouâre serious.â
âYes!â
âWhere are they?â
Andromeda pointed back toward the middle of the dance floor.
âAlert the guards, but tell them not to do anything until I signal them. If it really is a vampire, it could snap her neck and suck her dry before they could even get near her.â
Andromeda swallowed hard at the thought and nodded. Michael released her arms, and as she ran for the door, he ran to grab one of the swords mounted on the wall. He freed a broadsword from its wooden mount and started winding his way through the crowd with it held up by his head in a ready position. The dancers that he passed stopped to watch him go, whispering to one another and shifting uneasily.
In the center of the dance floor, Andrew watched as Felicity blinked rapidly and then opened her eyes wide as if coming out of deep sleep. The vampireâs threatening gaze was fixed on Andrew, daring the young prince to challenge him again, but his trance required eye contact.
âFelicity?â said Andrew, seizing his chance. âCome with me. I need to speak with you a moment.â He held out a tentative hand toward her.
âWhat?â said Felicity, blinking at her brother.
âStay with me, my sweet,â said the vampire.
Felicity jerked and, still encircled in the vampireâs arms, looked up at him. She sucked in a sharp breath, preparing to scream, and then she shivered from head to toe. Her body went limp and submissive. Her eyes glazed over again.
Andrew clenched his hands into fists, but there was nothing he could do. He was unarmed, and no match for a vampireâs strength and speed. He scanned the crowd looking for Andromeda and the guards, wondering how long the vampire would keep up his charade. Andrew figured the vampire had hoped to lure Felicity out of the castle under a trance and avoid the guards, but now that he was discovered, he might unleash his fury at any moment.
There was no sign of the guards, but Andrewâs eye caught on a flash of silver and red. It was Michael, shoving his way through the crowd with a deadly look on his face and a sword in his hands. Andrew averted his eyes, so as not to alert the vampire.
âIt would be wise to let her go,â said Andrew, keeping Michael in sight.
âWhy is that, puny little prince?â
âBecause my brother is much bigger than I,â said Andrew.
The vampireâs brow pulled down in a frown just as Michael slammed into his shoulder from behind, knocking Felicity free of the creatureâs arms. Michael grabbed Felicity around the waist with one arm, picked her completely off her feet, put her behind him, and then faced the vampire with broadsword brandished.
As the three siblings watched in horror, the vampireâs face began to change. All of his teeth grew sharper and larger. His canines grew down to kiss his bottom lip. His jaw enlarged with sickening pops and his lips curled back to accommodate the vicious, toothy maw. Black claws the size of lionâs teeth grew from his nailbeds, overlapping his fingernails, and ripped away his tunic and overcoat. His black, bat-like wings, folded to his back like a second skin, now had room to unfurl from his shoulder blades. When he lifted his head and grinned at the siblings, a forked tongued hung from his mouth. He let out a horrible, screeching growl like a wild cat in a brawl.
Felicity, fully out of the trance, shrank back and tripped over her dress. She hit the floor and screamed so loud it made the vampire flinch.
Hers was the first of hundreds. The crowd began to shift like a living, pulsating thing as people ran for the exits, shoving each other aside, not stopping to help the fallen, but instead trampling those in their way.
Michaelâs pale face was drained, but he set his jaw and held his sword higher. He looked at Andrew, whose mouth was open in a cry he could not find a way to voice.
âAndrew, take Felicity and run!â said Michael, making Andrew shift his eyes from the vampire. âFind Andromeda. Get them both out of here! The guardâs priority will be Mother and Father.â
Andrew grabbed Felicityâs hand and helped her to her feet. With one last, worried look at their older brother, they battled through the stampeding crowd together.
Outside, Andromeda had just given the palace guards Michaelâs message when she heard the blood-chilling cry of the vampire.
âDamn the signal,â said Andromeda. âGet in there, now!â
The guards drew their swords in a cacaphony of steel sliding out of scabbards. The doors to the ballroom burst open and a wave of screaming lords and ladies came spilling out.
âWait!â said Andromeda, arms out to halt the guards as they moved to press through the crowd.
Her mind raced back to all of the books she had ever read on vampires. They had to be stabbed with stakes, shown a crucifix, or sprayed with holy water. Swords would not do. The crowd parted around the armor and shields of the guards, who were peering into the ballroom.
âWe arenât equipped to fight a vampire. Those swords will be of no use. Youâll be slaughtered.â
âPrincess,â said one of the guards, âTheir Majesties are inside. We have pledged our lives to protect them, and we shall.â
âI understand,â said Andromeda. âI only mean that you shouldnât engage the beast. Concentrate on getting everyone to safety. Weâll hunt down the vampire and kill it another day.â
âAye, Princess,â said the guard.
The others pounded their swords against their shields and forced their way through the stampede of oncoming guests. Andromeda followed in their wake to find her siblings.
The guards headed toward the thrones, but Andromeda kept her course toward the vampire, whose wings rose above the crowd. A man elbowed her in the ribs and knocked the wind from her. A woman slammed into her shoulder. Andromeda was finding it hard just to put one foot in front of the other. Felicity and Andrew nearly collided with her, too.
âAndromeda! Thank God,â said Andrew, clutching a stitch in his side.
âWhereâs Michael?â
âFighting the vampire,â said Felicity, her voice shrill and unrecognizable.
âWhat?â said Andromeda. âWe have to get him out. Heâll be killed! Whatâs he fighting it with?â
âA broadsword,â said Andrew, his eyebrows questioning the relevance of the question.
âA sword!â said Andromeda. âHe canât fight a vampire with a sword! Heâll be torn to ribbons.â
Michael blocked a swipe from the vampireâs claws with his sword. The steel sang with the impact. He was already wearing down from dodging and fending off the vampireâs fast, powerful blows, but he countered with a quick, expert swipe of his own. He caught the vampireâs arm just above the elbow, cutting down to the bone.
Michaelâs triumphant smile drooped as the skin knitted itself back together before his eyes. The new skin smoothed over without even a scratch. Michael was unscathed as well but weakening. Every blow that he blocked from the vampire made his arm ache, and if he failed to block one of the vampireâs attacks, his skin would not grow back.
âMichael, run! The swordâs no good,â called a voice behind him.
He turned his head at his youngest sisterâs frightened warning and saw all three of his siblings running toward him through the significantly thinned crowd.
A powerful blow struck his right temple. Four claws scraped his head as he flew backward. The sword flew from his hand, and he landed hard on his back. Blood trickled from his head. Felicityâs frightened face appeared over him.
âFelicity, run. Get out of here,â he said, his head throbbing.
Before the words fully formed, the vampire materialized behind Felicity and swatted her with the back of his hand. The blow knocked her to the floor with such force that she skidded sideways across the polished wood where she lay motionless.
The vampire crouched over Michael and opened his lethal jaws. The putrid stench of rotting flesh and blood fell like a heavy blanket over Michaelâs face. The long, forked tongue fell out past the giant teeth as the vampire moved his head in toward Michaelâs neck. Michael closed his eyes, unable to look death in the face.
There was a shriek of pain. Michaelâs eyes flew open to see the vampire cringing and writhing. A sword pierced his body, but no blood spilled from the horrendous wound.
Michael felt hands under his arms pull him backwards, away from the beast, and he looked around to see Felicity, a nasty swollen bruise discoloring her high cheekbone.
The vampire turned to face its attacker, wrenching the sword from Andrewâs grip. Andrew retreated, gaping at his handiwork.
Michael rose to his feet, his head swimming.
The vampire reached and grabbed the sword hilt protruding from his lower back and pulled it out with a horrible squelching of disturbed flesh and the scraping of steel on bone.
Michael looked away, fearing he might vomit, and realized that Andromeda was nowhere in sight. He hoped she had reached safety with their parents.
The vampire held up the broadsword with one hand as easily as if it was a childâs wooden toy and observed it with a sneer of distaste before throwing it aside. The wound began to heal itself as the vampire stepped toward Andrew.
After calling her warning to Michael, Andromeda had veered off toward her parentsâ thrones, an idea forming in her head. On her way, she snatched a sword and dagger from one of the coats of arms. The king and queen were nowhere in sightâwhisked away by the royal guard. Andromeda upended the small wooden refreshment table, smashing the pitcher of wine and splattering the thrones with crimson.
Andromeda used the sword to hack off one of the wooden table legs. She sat on the floor, her dress belling out around her, and began sharpening one end to a point with the dagger. When it was sharp enough to give her finger a good poke, she looked back across the ballroom to find it empty save for her siblings and the vampire. All of the doors were open, but no one was in sight.
Amidst the chaos, the guards had not realized the royal children had gone after the vampire instead of fleeing for the exits. They would realize their mistake at any moment, but Andromeda feared they would be too late.
The skin of the vampireâs bare stomach was healing itself, and he was advancing on her twin. She gripped the newly carved stake in her hand and ran for her brother as fast as she could pump her legs.
She was not fast enough.
The vampire leapt at Andrew and pinned him to the ground, digging his claws into Andrewâs shoulders. Felicityâs scream mingled with Andrewâs cries of pain, and Michael scooped up the fallen sword.
Andromeda did not stop running.
As the vampire lowered his head to Andrewâs neck, she plunged the wooden stake into the left side of his back, using her momentum to put her full body weight behind it. The stake did not go all the way through, but it did its job.
Spent, ancient, black blood oozed sluggishly from the wound to the heart. The vampire threw back his head in a final, beastly cry of anguish before he fell to the side with a crash. His skin turned ashy gray. Cracks appeared like veins, and then the entire body crumpled in on itself until there was nothing left but a heap of ashes.
Andromeda stood over the pile of ash, panting. Andrew slowly got to his feet and locked eyes with his twin.
âThank you,â he said breathlessly.
Felicity curled her lip in disgust.
âHe turned into ash!â she said as if it was the most lewd and disgraceful of sins.
âVampires are undead,â said Andromeda. âDonât any of you read the old books?â
Andrew shrugged.
âI donât have time to read,â said Felicity with a sniff.
âTheir disease allows them to live eternally if they feast on the blood of others. The blood sustains their bodies because their own hearts no longer pump blood through their veins. But they arenât indestructible. The last bit of their own blood is stored in their heart. If they are staked in the heart and that blood is spilled, they become what they truly are: a corpse.â She looked down at the mess on the floor. âNot all of them turn to ash. This one must have been very old.â
âI never thought Iâd see one,â said Michael, the sword drooping from his hand and blood flowing from his head wound. âTheyâre supposed to be extinct.â
âThere have always been stories of one or two coming out every now and then in the Northern villages. I just thought they were stories, though,â said Andromeda. âThe people are going toââ
Andromeda stopped, her eyes on Michael. She went to his side. He was incredibly pale and supporting himself on the sword. His hair was matted with dark blood.
âAndrew rip the sleeve off your tunic,â said Felicity, coming to hover beside Michael. âI need to stop the bleeding.â
As Andrew obeyed, Markus and Isabelle ran into the room, guards hot at their heels.
âOh my darlings,â said Isabelle, trying to touch all of her children at once, âyouâre hurt.â She whirled on the guards. âNext time there is a threat to the castle, you get our children out first or Iâll have all your heads.â
âNo need to threaten the guards, dear,â said Markus. âThey did what they were charged to do.â
âWell, I have a new charge,â said Isabelle, flicking a loose strand of raven hair, much like the one always bothering Andromeda, out of her eyes.
âYes, Your Majesty,â said the Head of the Guard.
âMichael needs a physician,â said Felicity, wrapping Andrewâs sleeve around Michaelâs head as a bandage.
âTake him to Britton immediately,â said Markus.
Two guards rushed to drape Michaelâs arms over their shoulders.
âAndrew is bleeding too,â said Andromeda.
âGo with them, son,â said Markus.
âIâm going, too,â said Isabelle. âSomeone has to make sure that old boar doesnât patch them up without milk of poppy like he did when Andrew broke his arm.â
When only Markus and his girls remained in the room, he stared down at the pile of ashes and ran a worrisome hand through his thick, red beard.
âMy God,â he said in an awed voice. âIt just walked right in. Makes one wonder how many more are still amongst us.â
The rest of the night was chaotic and tiresome. The four siblings had to tell their story over and over. First, to their parents, then to the new general, and finally to Archimedes. Britton stitched Michaelâs and Andrewâs claw wounds and soothed Felicityâs cuts and bruises. All four of them were thankful to fall into their beds and drift into uneasy sleep.
Vampires entered all of their dreams.
***
In the fortnight following the vampire attack, many things changed around the castle. Archimedes began training the young royals to fight not only humans, but mythical creatures as well. They had to learn to fight with a sword in one hand and a stake in the other. They had to learn new methods of fighting airborne enemies. They all carried a crucifix and a bottle of holy water with them.
King Markus believed that if vampires were still roaming Arcamira that his kingdom should assume that their diseased cousins, the werewolves, were still roaming somewhere deep in the woods. Thus, all arrows and swords had a layer of silver melted over the steel.
Guards were put on heavy night watch, for that was when both vampires and werewolves stalked the earth.
The villagers hung garlic and crucifixes on their doorframes and barricaded their doors at nightfall.
Thus, when the elfin messenger rode into Barion, the large village that encircled the Avalonâs palace, he was met with a small army of guards, shuttered windows, and empty streets.
Each guard he passed fixated on the pointed ears sticking out from the elfâs waist-length blonde hair, and their eyes widened. None of them had ever seen an elf in person. By the time he reached with castle gates, he had an entourage of gawking guards following close behind.
âAre you going to stand there gaping, human, or are you going to let me in?â said the elf, lifting his head to address the gatekeeper. âI have an urgent message from my king, to be delivered as quickly as possible to King Markus.â
The gatekeeper fumbled with the lever used to lift up the gate.
The elf rode under the spiked metal before dismounting his palomino in one fluid movement. He was met by two more stunned guards. One took his horse and the other escorted him to the castle doors. When the giant oak doors were pushed open by four guards, the elf and his escort walked through the stone brick castle to the council room where the king and queen met with nobles and peasants alike. Two golden thrones overlooked the chamber and the pews lined up for guests and council members.
The guard offered the elf a seat on one such pew and rushed to fetch the king and queen.
When Markus and Isabelle were both sitting on their thrones, the guard assumed his post at the door.
âWho are you and what message do you bring from your king?â said Markus.
The elf produced a scroll from his tunic. The tunic was very dirty and travel worn and his blonde hair was matted and filled with leaves, but still his beauty was beyond human capacity. He seemed to glow with an ethereal energy.
âMy name is Glaiden, and I have traveled a fortnight to deliver this message,â said the elf.
He approached Markusâ throne, his movement unrealistically graceful, and placed the scroll in the kingâs hand. Markus unrolled it and his eyes skimmed the elegant handwriting in dark green ink. The queen left her throne to read along with him.
To the great King Markus Avalon of the human realm,
I hope this message finds you in good health and that your kingdom fairs better than mine. My only living child and heir, Atalanta, has been taken by a beast I have never heard of before, if the servant who claims to have seen it from a window is of sound mind. She claims it was a two-headed cyclops with a hunched back. My elves are still searching for it, but the beast has left barely a trace. I did not wish to break our treaty and sanction search parties on your domain without permission, but some of my best scouts believe theyâve found signs of my daughter and her captor near your Northern border. I am writing to ask for permission to cross this border. Any search parties of your own would be appreciated and remembered as well.
My Atalanta is a mere babe of around your daughtersâ age. I am asking for your help as a fellow king and father. Please aid me in the search for my daughter.
King Zanthus Galechaser
âThe poor child,â said Isabelle. âMarkus, we must help.â
âGuard,â said the king, âfetch my scribe.â
When the scribe had arrived with quill and parchment in hand, Markus dictated his reply.
To my ally, King Zanthus Galechaser of the elfin realm,
My queen and I are grieved to hear of the kidnap of your precious daughter. You have my consent to send your search parties over my borders. Not only will I send out search parties of my own, but I also extend my hand in alliance to give you the full resources of my army if the trouble should escalate. I hope it does not come to that, but I will keep that promise all the same. Strange things have happened here as well. A fortnight ago, perhaps on the very same day as your Atalantaâs capture, a vampire attacked my daughter, Felicity, at a ball. My four children managed to slay it, but it has left my people shaken. I fear there may be trouble brewing in Arcamira.
King Markus Avalon
I read a lot of Young Adult fantasy fiction, and especially love stories of vampires and werewolves. So when I read the description of Arcamira, by Hannah Sandoval, I knew that this was a book that I was going to need to pick up and read.
Initially, I had a hard time getting emotionally involved with the book. First, I had to learn more about the land of Arcamira and get used to being in that world. In a lot of fantasy books, at least in my opinion, I think that there is a time of adjustment as your mind has to learn about a world different from the one that we live in. Once I learned enough about the new land and the people in it to begin to lose myself in the plot line, I started having fun.
My other difficulty was that I had just finished a very fast-paced book and was in that head space. Arcamira is not fast-paced. In fact, there are many very descriptive passages that slowed the pace down. Once I got adjusted to the slower rhythm of the book, I began to enjoy it much more.
One silly point, that will show my age, is that the name "Atalanta" made me think of the album "Free to Be, You and Me" and the reading of the poem "Atalanta" by Marlo Thomas and Alan Alda. Especially in the beginning of reading the book, I was hearing their voices in my head saying the name Atalanta. (Not sure what I'm talking about? Check out this video on YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/watch?time_continue=8&v=FuyRi2yWWSQ&feature=emb_logo )
I would recommend this book to older readers of the Young Adult genre. For younger teens, some of the scenes might be a bit too much. But all in all, it is an entertaining read.