THE MAGICIAN’S KINGDON

CHAPTER 1

I

__

Dawn came without either the baron or Hugh returning.

After laying the still-disoriented Miska into her carriage and leaving Taki and May in the baron’s vehicle, D announced that he was going to head back to where the aircraft had crashed.

“I wanna go, too,” May said, clinging to the Hunter like a shadow. If Taki hadn’t stopped her, she probably would’ve gone right after him.

“Leave this to me,” Taki said.

With her words hovering behind him, D rode off on his horse.

Along the way, his left hand inquired in a hoarse voice, “You think she’ll be okay?”

“Which one?”

“Taki. Because if she starts acting crazy, May will be in danger, too. Did you leave her behind because you think she’s still okay?”

“No, because she’d be in the way.”

“I suspected as much. What’s more, we’ve got that vampiress—that’s even dicier. There’s definitely something possessing her.”

“We checked her.”

“Then it must be something we wouldn’t find that way. What comes to mind is—”

“We’ll find out eventually. Very soon, I’d say.”

“Hmm, I suppose that’s true. But you know, I’ve got a really bad feeling.”

Without replying, D rode all the way to the crash site in silence.

A bizarre scene awaited him there in the sunlight. No matter where he looked, there was no sign of the aircraft. Of course, D hadn’t actually seen it crash in the first place. All he could do was guess at the area based on the speed of the aircraft and the angle of its descent.

As he sat on his mount with eyes gleaming, D seemed to find something. Dismounting, he walked over to one corner of the clearing. What he picked up there was a thin shred of cloth. It wasn’t old. And it was stuck to a clump of brush.

“Looks like this was the end of the line for the airplane,” said his left hand.

Indeed it was.

Putting the scrap into his pocket, D turned his gaze to the shadowy depths of a grove of trees. While Hugh might be another matter, the baron would probably be lying in there somewhere where the sunlight couldn’t penetrate the branches and leaves. This was probably the last thing in the world a Vampire Hunter should be doing, but at any rate, the person in question was his employer.

Just as D was about to head in that direction, the wind whispered to him.

The forest is . . . dangerous.

The thread-thin voice was that of Baron Balazs.

“Where are you?”

Can’t really be sure . . . of your position . . . but there’s a large rock . . . on the south end of the clearing.

Turning his head ever so slightly, D saw it.

There’s a fissure under it. That’s where I am.

“What are you doing?”

What do you think I’m doing—listening to music? The sun came up before I could head back.

“You were searching for Hugh all this time?”

There was no answer. He wasn’t the sort of man that needed to reply.

“Stay there for the time being. I’ll look for him.”

I ran into an odd character. Vince was his name, and he didn’t die even after I put a spear through him. He can turn all the blood in his body to poison. I’m sure I separated his head from his body, but when I came back after searching another area, the corpse had vanished. Apparently, “Vince” stands for “invincible.”

“One of the Hunters?”

Yes.

As if he had no further interest in the matter, D wheeled his horse around. Regardless of what he may have thought of this new foe, nothing could be gleaned from his gorgeous but expressionless visage.

These woods are strange, the wind told D in the baron’s voice. Though there’s been no change from what I saw last night, they seem completely different.

That being the case, he had no choice but to enter them—that’s what it meant to be the young man named D.

“I’ll say it’s strange,” a gleeful voice remarked from the vicinity of the Hunter’s left hand the second he rode in among the trees.

Midday darkness enveloped the rider and his mount. Shadows of the countless branches interlaced on either side of him. The scant light and crushing darkness cast a hazy patchwork on D’s handsome features.

The forest was deep, but nevertheless, a number of narrow paths ran through it. Though most were game trails, the wider ones had surely been left by humans who’d come hunting and gathering. Mixed in among the verdant grass and moss were pretty colors like something out of an artist’s sketch—probably wildflowers. Occasionally there was the beating of wings as a black silhouette flew by overhead.

While D looked to be advancing on his steed as if there were no problem at all, every fiber of his being was focused through his five senses. Needless to say, at present he could isolate each sound and find the source of not only every cry from the birds and the beasts, but also the scratching of the bugs burrowing down into the moss and the rustle of grass and leaves swaying with the breeze.

Off to the left-hand side of the trail towered a massive tree that was a good thirty feet in diameter. Its bark made one wonder how many millennia it’d seen, giving way to countless crevices and knots and emitting a dull glow here and there. The glow came from lumina moss, which was said to grow only on trees of considerable age. It could be boiled to make a tea that proved highly effective in treating lymphatic disorders.

From behind the great tree came a pair of figures. Hugh—and an old man in a black tuxedo and silk hat. The pointed tails of his coat nicely complemented his flowing beard. The jewels encrusting his bow tie put a red glow in D’s eyes.

“Nice to meet you . . . although technically that’s not correct. We met once by the side of the road. I am Lord Johann—but people call me the Trail Magician.”

Though the old man waited a bit, D made no move, so with a shrug of his shoulders he continued, “Can’t be bothered to introduce yourself? D, isn’t it? My assistant is imposing on your hospitality.”

D’s mouth finally opened as he said, “Release the child.”

Perhaps sensing something in that quiet tone, the magician shrank back.

“And if I don’t—there’ll be violent deeds in place of words? I don’t know which of us would prove the victor.”

Twisting his lengthy beard, he smirked. The teeth exposed by his thin lips were pointed like a carnivore’s.

“However, I shan’t let you have this boy. If you want him back—well, now, why don’t you throw down that sword for a start and show me where I might find the baron?”

Though the magician’s face wore a smile, his eyes were cruel as could be.

D’s right hand went for the sword on his back. He made no fuss about doing as he was told—or so Lord Johann must’ve thought as a grin split his face, but at that moment, he reeled backward wildly, his body spinning around two or three times. Something long and thin was jutting from his right eye—a needle of rough wood. The hand reaching for the sword had drawn it from a hiding place on the sheath and hurled it with lightning speed, though no one who’d witnessed it would’ve ever believed it.

“You—you son of a bitch! You have some nerve!”

Lord Johann’s face paled as the sound of hoofbeats rolled over him. Without giving the man time to get back on his feet, D raced toward him on his horse.

A flash of light shot out from the man on horseback.

With the sword that’d cleaved Lord Johann’s head still in hand, D turned his mount around. In the meantime, the magician ran unsteadily for the cover of the gigantic tree. Though D’s blade seemingly split not only the man’s silk hat but the head beneath it, it sent an odd sensation into the Hunter’s right hand.

At the end of the blade’s graceful curve hung a hat—and not the magician’s top hat, but a bowler. Or so it appeared for a second before it melted into a black tar that then covered the entire sword.

Not even glancing at the boy on the road—ensuring that there were no foes nearby came first—D leapt off his horse’s back at Lord Johann, who was attempting to circle around behind the massive tree. D was a beautiful black wind in flight. The horizontal swipe of his blade narrowly missed the magician’s head, biting into the tree trunk instead. But who would’ve ever thought it’d bounce off?

Furrowing his brow only for an instant, D then chased after Lord Johann, circling around the trunk himself. But the magician was gone. Not even a trace of his presence remained. D’s ultra-keen senses confirmed that he’d neither risen up into the heavens nor burrowed into the earth.

Giving no further chase, D looked at his blade. Apparently the melted bowler hat was meant to dull the edge it coated.

The Hunter returned to the road.

Hugh stood in a daze in the same spot as before. The only thing different now was the length of rope that hung down to his hands. He wasn’t holding it up. Rather, it hung down from the sky.

D looked up.

The sunlit gaps between the branches opened into a round canopy. The rope ran right up into the center of an opening in the trees.

Even after Hugh took hold of the rope with one hand, D still didn’t move. Perhaps not realizing D was there, the boy began to climb the gently swaying line as if he were a monkey. After he’d climbed about fifteen feet, a needle of white wood flew from the Hunter’s right hand. Just as it was about to strike, the rope twisted as if possessing a will of its own and batted the needle back down. And the writhing didn’t stop there. As if to guard against D’s next attack, the rope swiftly began to rise along with the still frantically climbing boy, and in no time at all they had vanished into the heavens.

D got back on his horse. He looked up high. But he didn’t find the heavens he sought.

Something resembling a black cloud had descended from the sky, and what spattered against the ground was fresh blood. Striking with such force that it tore at the earth, it must’ve fallen from an incredible height. As he watched, a mass the same color whizzed right by his eyes. Warping the ground and bouncing back up again were the pair of arms that’d been taken off at the boy’s shoulder. A bloody spray went out. The arms were followed by a pair of legs. There was a loud thud. A torso sunk into the black earth. Taking the shock from the bottom up, the organs sprayed up through the stump where his head had once been. The last part splattered like a rotten tomato.

From the back of his horse, D gazed at what had once been a human body. Each piece still had clothing attached—Hugh’s clothes. Even the horribly mangled head seemed to retain the features of the brave young boy.

“What’s all this?” a voice asked from the vicinity of the Hunter’s left hand.

“It’s a fake,” said D.

Although it seemed the Hunter had been right out in the middle of the bloody rain, his nigh-translucent skin wasn’t marred by even a drop of vermilion.

“Oh, I see. Not a bad job. But it’s not a synthetic form. It’s a real human body. That bastard—he grabbed another kid just to put a scare into you.”

And the magician had apparently butchered him in cold blood as well. While the child had looked exactly like Hugh, D’s eyes had undoubtedly found discrepancies in the severed limbs.

“What are you gonna do?” the voice asked in a leaden tone, but the Hunter’s gorgeous features remained like an icy blossom as he didn’t so much as arch an eyebrow.

Based on that image, it would’ve been difficult to imagine him then sending his coat whirling out as he dismounted. Once he’d gotten down and taken a single step, the corpse suddenly moved. The twisted pair of arms slid over to the torso that was stuck in the earth, planting their palms against the ground to lift themselves up and press their stumps to the gaping wounds at either shoulder. The fingers moved. Almost seeming at a loss, at first the digits of one hand and then the other twitched, but finally growing more accustomed, all ten fingers worked together, curling and bending before they began to twist the opposing wrist. After this continued for about twenty seconds, the arms finally put their palms flat against the earth, and after many attempts at straightening their elbows, they lifted the torso out of the hole in the ground once more. The pair of legs rolled over and attached themselves to the lower body. Accustomed to standing, the legs straightened, and the figure rose.

By anyone’s estimation, it was a perfectly good body—well, perhaps not quite. All the limbs had been left twisted by the shock of striking the ground, and bones jutted out by the right elbow and left knee. A pulpy mess from the chest up, the torso was covered with blood, and it lacked a head as well.

“He sliced it to pieces and yet he can still push it around? Must be one hell of a magician,” the hoarse voice said in apparent amazement, but the corpse showed no sign of stopping at its words, and now misshapen hands reached for the pulverized head on the ground.

D quickly stepped forward.

Beneath his blade, the diminutive torso was sliced in two. The manipulated corpse collapsed without ever witnessing the final act of misery.

“I thought your sword wouldn’t be up to doing any cutting—nicely done,” the hoarse voice cooed in admiration.

Cutting with a blade that shouldn’t be able to cut—D had the power to surpass mere physical phenomena.

D went back to his horse. Wheeling the animal around, he slowly headed back the way he’d come.

“The going is easy, easy—or that’s what the song used to say,” said the voice that trailed after him. “How did the rest go? It’s the trip back that’s scary . . . We’re headed in the opposite direction.”

As if he’d already known this, D asked, “What happens if we keep going this way?”

“There’ll be a trap, I suppose. After all, this is the magician’s kingdom.”

The horse’s gait didn’t change at all—D chose to ride right into the lion’s den. Perhaps he thought that if he played into the enemy’s hands, it would bring him into contact with the one responsible.

Unexpectedly, his horse came to a dead halt. The animal then reared up on its hind legs for dear life. Though D tugged at the reins, the cyborg horse didn’t respond. Its rear quarters went back a step and, unable to bear it any longer, the front legs came down again. But there was no ground beneath them. Where the earth was supposed to be, D saw a great void. The wind swirled behind them as they fell.

It was a hallucination, something that couldn’t exist in the world. However, the way the wind snarled in his ear, how his hair and the hem of his coat streamed up behind him, and more than anything, the feeling that he was dropping at a velocity of nearly two hundred miles per hour didn’t seem to be a lie.

“A hell of stroll this turned out to be,” remarked a wind-tattered voice. “If we slam into the ground at this speed, we really will be smashed flat as a pancake. Tell yourself none of this is real. Eep!”

Returning his balled fist to the reins, D continued to fall.

The black earth grew closer. They were falling at more than three hundred miles per hour toward the ground.

D was suddenly standing on the road in the forest in the same spot where he’d started. He surveyed his surroundings. Something that wasn’t quite blood and not quite oil had been splashed all over the road and the bushes. The fragments spread far and wide in all directions were pieces of his cyborg horse. His mount hadn’t been able to escape his foe’s psychological attack.

D started to walk without saying a word. Before he’d gone a hundred yards, his surroundings were enveloped by white light. The fact that the light wasn’t artificial became clear when D was involuntarily driven to his knees. Natural light—yet it shone with a hundred times the brilliance of the sun at high noon.

“A land of light in the forest of darkness—now this is the very essence of Lord Johann’s magic,” a malice-choked voice called down from the heavens. The old man’s ragged breathing was a vivid testament to the gravity of the wound D had dealt him.

“The Noble blood that flows in a dhampir won’t allow him to escape the light. How will you get out of this, Vampire Hunter?” the voice said from the direction of the light.

Although D sent a needle of rough wood flying in that direction, the only result was a burst of scornful laughter.

“At a loss, Hunter? If that’s the best you can do, it’ll be my turn now. Here!”

The ring of dazzling light took on an added glint. Countless steel arrows assailed D, and were in turn sent flying by his longsword. However, every last one of them turned into an arrow-shaped scrap of paper. Actually, the scraps of paper had been fluttering down gently, but Lord Johann’s fearsome art had made it seem to D that they moved with the speed of real arrows.

An instant later, D was pierced through the back and out the solar plexus by a short spear. Roasting in the sunlight and with all his nerves focused on the false attack, the Hunter hadn’t been able to fend off that blow.

“The secret of magic is to draw their attention with a deception in the right hand while the real trick is being done with the left,” Lord Johann said with a mighty laugh. “Can you see through my grand trick, Hunter?”

His laughter was cut short by the sound of something knifing through the wind. A streak of black lightning had shot to the sky from D’s right hand. Extracting the short spear that impaled him in a flash, he’d hurled it in the direction opposite the voice—into the treetops off to his right. The leaves shook with the crash of breaking glass, and a cry of surprise rang out. Simultaneously, the prison of light that’d restricted D’s movements suddenly disappeared.

“Can you see through Lord Johann’s magic, D?”

A needle of unfinished wood flew off toward where that shout had originated, and once again, a scream of pain was heard. Glittering fragments rained down from the treetops, and deep red blood dripped down on their glassy surface.

D raised his sword with his right hand. His foe hadn’t been fatally wounded yet.

The mechanical groan that was heard next only proved the accuracy of the Hunter’s assessment. From the region where the short spear and wooden needle had vanished, a flying machine descended like a bird with wings spread, and at its center—through the round glass window of what was apparently the cockpit—Lord Johann and his flowing beard could be seen. He had a black handkerchief pressed to one eye.

“We shall meet again, my fearsome Hunter. I have to repay you for what you’ve done to my eye. Remember that.”

The black wings beat clumsily and the device began to rise, disappearing between the branches with a speed unimaginable from its stocky form. There was the sound of trees breaking, and after a few branches dropped like parting gifts, all other noise ceased.

Sheathing his blade, D turned his gaze toward the countless glittering bits spread out a short distance from him before leaving. Not merely shards of glass, they reflected the stand of trees as sharply as a mirror. It must’ve been how the magician had magnified the scant sunlight to restrict D’s movements, and made scraps of paper seem like arrows to the Hunter. Although it was said that the simpler the trick, the more effective it was, the effects Lord Johann was able to achieve bordered on sorcery.

Before walking back out of the forest, D wiped his lips with one hand. As he rubbed the blood from the back of his hand off on his coat, his eyes burned red. The blood that flowed back into his lungs from the short spear wound had given the dhampir the strength he needed to escape the mysterious bonds of sunlight.

__

D returned to the boulder that concealed Baron Balazs.

Your spirit is in disarray, the wind said in the baron’s voice. I take it from that you were less than successful.

“I’ll go back first. You can come once the sun has set.”

D began to walk away.

They’ve taken a hostage. I’m sure they’ll be in touch soon. However, I’d like you to hold off on taking any action until I’ve returned.

“Very well,” the beautiful black shadow said as he walked away in the sunlight.

__

On top of a hill quite some distance away, the black insectlike flyer came down for a landing.

In the shadow cast by the craft, a youthful voice said, “The attacker became the attacked, as expected.” The tone was one of both understanding and contempt.

“He truly is something,” Lord Johann replied. “Exposed to sunlight like that and impaled by a spear, and he still lived. I’m sure he’ll recover quickly, too. However, my eye will never see again, and the wound to my abdomen shall take some time. It would seem the price was too dear.”

“Which is exactly why I offered to help you. Last night, you were the one that approached me.”

“I wanted to see what D was capable of with my own eyes. No matter how skilled an opponent he might prove, I was confident I would come back unharmed and dispose of him later. To be honest, it was my intention to enlist your aid at that time. This isn’t something that can be done by conventional means, you know. He is neither a regular Vampire Hunter nor your average dhampir.”

“Certainly not. And Baron Balazs is also formidable.”

“I’ll get right on coming up with the next plan. This time, I’ll take special care to see to it I don’t fail. You go back and join the others.”

“I’d have done that anyway. But when you contact me, do so secretly, Lord Johann.”

“Not to worry. And for your part, see to it no one learns that you’ve joined forces with me.”

“Nothing to worry about there. The mere thought of how great the reward will be without them getting a cut is enough to keep me from allowing even the tiniest slip-up. All so that we can dispose of that meddling Hunter and get rid of Baron Balazs.”

And then one portion of the shadows broke away from the rest and left the wind swirling in its wake as it dashed down the hill.

__

When D returned without the boy, a small storm of panic blew through the camp.

“Where’s Hugh?” May muttered absentmindedly.

“He was abducted,” D told her bluntly. He wasn’t the sort of man to offer a softened explanation of the facts.

The girl’s eyes swam with tears.

“Why—why didn’t you go look for him? Who took him?”

“I know who it was. I’ll get him back.”

“What if . . . they kill him first?”

“No one abducts someone just to kill them,” the Hunter replied.

Suddenly, May launched herself at D. Her hands pounded relentlessly against his broad chest.

“You left Hugh back there! He’s my one and only brother! My mother and father were both killed because of the Nobility, and Hugh’ll be killed, too! The Nobility are our enemy! They’re murderers! Half of your blood is the same as theirs. That’s why you could leave him out there to die!”

Her little fists struck his coat time and again, bouncing off it each time. But even though her fists sprung back, May kept hitting him. It was as if making this gorgeous young man feel pain would somehow bring Hugh back to her. She didn’t care if her hands broke; she wouldn’t quit. Her breathing was ragged, her hands weak as she raised them. Nevertheless, she went on pummeling him. As her swollen hands relayed the dull pain, May’s face twisted in agony.

Fingers like steel took hold of her wrists, and it finally dawned on the girl what an incredibly foolish thing she’d done.

“Hit me any more and we’ll be looking at some broken bones. Namely, mine.”

The instant she met the gorgeous visage peering down at her like an icy blossom with dark eyes, May rapidly lost all her strength. She knew she couldn’t do anything to D. She also knew that D’s words were a lie. And she understood for exactly whose benefit he’d feigned this weakness.

The next thing to hit D’s chest was May’s upper body. Both arms hanging by her sides as she leaned against that powerful physique, the girl did the last thing she could for her younger brother. She began to cry in a loud voice. Her voice traveled around the clearing only to be swallowed by the stands of trees and sunlight, but still she kept crying.

And then May unexpectedly pulled away from the Hunter and ran off into the trees without a backward glance.

As D quietly watched her go, a teasing voice asked him, “Are you not going to follow her?”

The voice drifted from the white carriage to D’s rear—from Miska.

“No, there’s no point in chasing her,” the Noblewoman continued. “The girl’s heart seethes with hatred for you and thoughts of her brother. You’d best take care she doesn’t slit your throat while you slumber. Noble and human—and held in disdain by both races because of the two kinds of blood that flow in your veins—that is a fitting fate for the half-breeds we call dhampirs. Oh, I do believe I’m beginning to grow a bit fond of that lass—”

The Noblewoman’s words ceased there.

As if frightened by something, her team of white horses reared up on their hind legs and whinnied fiercely. The horses and carriage had been enveloped by a ghastly aura that defied description.

The one emitting that aura had a hard gaze trained in the direction May had disappeared, but he suddenly turned to the right.

Taki had just come out of the woods. Apparently preparing to make camp, she had a huge pile of dead wood in her arms. The reason she’d frozen in place before he even saw her was undoubtedly because Taki had been baptized by his unearthly aura.

Perhaps deducing the situation, the young woman said, “You didn’t find Hugh, did you?”

“No. May’s in the woods over that way.”

“I see. I’ll go find her.”

Dropping the firewood at her feet and dusting herself off, she then took two or three steps before she turned around again. It took a while for the firm, straight bar of her lips to open.

“D—If something happens to Hugh, I know it won’t be your fault, but I’m sure I’ll hate you for it too. You and those two Nobles.”

After Taki dashed away, only the young man in black was left in the clearing that swam in the white sunlight. His stern face was beautiful to the point of violence, looking as if solitude and all other worldly matters and every human emotion from grief on down had no bearing on him.

__

II

__

Soon after the sun went down the baron returned.

“So, you haven’t found the child?” he asked.

May and Taki were by the side of the campfire, gazing vacantly into the flames.

“We’re setting out,” D said from where he leaned back against a tree. A cyborg horse was by his side. He’d gone back to town to procure it.

“This is a rather abrupt departure,” the baron said, turning a pained gaze in May’s direction. “Let’s take another day to search for the child.”

Neither Taki nor even May could keep the surprise from showing on their faces as they stared at the Noble who’d just shattered their preconceptions.

“There are no objections to that, I take it?” he said as he turned to D, and then there was the dry whistle of dead wood and a white needle stuck in the ground at the Nobleman’s feet. There was a note of some sort attached to it.

Pulling it off, the baron read it.

Continue your journey. The child will show up along the way.

“Who left this, and when?”

“A white rabbit carried it here around noontime.”

The speechless baron gazed at D.

“It’s true,” said Taki. “It stuck it on the door of the carriage—and stood up on two legs to do it! When D put a needle through it, it exploded.”

“I suppose you can’t have a magician without rabbits,” the baron remarked with a wry smile. “In that case, we had best proceed. But before we do—”

Perhaps the baron noticed the swish of fabric to his rear. Miska’s white dress had a hazy glow, as if it were a thin fog that shrouded her.

“Have you had any problems?”

“You needn’t worry on my account. I am the very picture of health,” the beautiful woman said with a smile. Even a human out for her blood would’ve been left disarmed by her allure.

Although her air was the same as always, the baron’s brow crinkled slightly, as if he sensed something.

“That’s fine, then. What I said still stands. We leave immediately.”

“For the child’s sake?” Miska asked, eyes wide with feigned disbelief. “Is your travel itinerary to be determined by the life of a human child?”

“Do you have a problem with that?”

“Don’t be absurd. I owe you my life. I wouldn’t think for a moment of questioning your wisdom.”

“Then return to your carriage. A journey by night can be a pleasure, too.”

“One thing first,” said the Hunter.

His remark paralyzed everyone—and even made the flames seem to freeze.

“What is it?”

The baron looked at D, and then quickly stared at Miska. He was following D’s gaze.

“Last night, there was a sizable explosion,” D said, his gaze still locked on Miska. “And you alone were on the scene. The surrounding air hadn’t been disturbed in the least. Such a phenomenon is impossible. What did you see?”

Miska laid the four fingers of one hand across her lips to hide a silent laugh, replying, “Is this somewhere where impossible phenomena occur? Spare me your foolish chatter. I shall overlook it as the nonsensical ramblings of a half-breed.”

As she turned to walk back to her carriage, her sensuous figure froze as if nailed to the ground.

Everyone felt the swirling vortex of unearthly and overwhelming energy that bound the Noblewoman and the gorgeous Vampire Hunter. The vortex would consume one of them . . . and what would happen then? Would it be D or Miska? The unsettling aura narrowed and tightened. At that moment, it was neither density nor intensity the aura required of them. It was will—pure, crystallized focus. The vortex grew taut between D and Miska.

Just then, the baron’s blue cape spread out as he shouted, “Stop it!”

The torrent of ghastly energy was sent flying by his cry.

Somewhere, insects chirped.

“If you take this any further, one of you will get hurt,” the baron said as he looked at one, then the other. “As a fellow Noble, I can’t very well allow a lady to be harmed. And I would be in quite a predicament if I were to lose such an excellent bodyguard. Allow me to intercede.”

“From what I saw, your fate may depend on this too,” said D. Needless to say, he was talking to the baron. “Nothing could be more dangerous than traveling with someone who’s become part of some unknown entity.”

“I don’t believe the degree of danger is something I’ve been too worried about in my journeys. And I don’t suppose you have, either,” the baron said with a smile. “If I were to insist that she accompany me, would you quit?”

“You’re the boss.”

“In that case, I believe I’ll exercise that privilege. Both of you return to the carriages. We’ll address D’s concerns at another time,” the baron declared in a firm tone.

__

The dark of night was split by the wind.

The road wasn’t exactly flat. With D speeding ahead on horseback, the two carriages were jostled up and down, throwing up dark earth and dust. But inside, they remained perfectly tranquil.

“Do you think Miska’s been possessed by something?” the baron asked in a low voice from the driver’s seat.

“Probably, back at the Talos arsenal. Maybe by the Destroyer,” D replied.

While the echo of hoofbeats and wheels obliterated the pair’s conversation, the words reached their ears softly and clearly.

“We checked her out.”

“We have no way of knowing what knowledge they possessed in ancient times.”

“It certainly is dangerous beyond all measure. And yet knowing that, you’ll accompany us, Vampire Hunter ‘D’? You certainly appear confident.”

“This is my job.”

“Do you know no fear?”

There was no reply to that. Instead, the Hunter said, “At this rate, we’ll reach the village of Diemli in less than three hours. It’s a ghost town, so we’ll blow right through it. We’ll probably see the village of Corma by dawn.”

“Which of them will have our foes?”

“Both.”

A daring smile skimmed across the baron’s lips.

“Although we haven’t discussed it, another problem remains. The young lady.”

He was referring to Taki.

“She said she was Lord Johann’s assistant. Is she friend or foe?”

“Foe,” D said, not an iota of ambiguity in his reply. Yet the fact that he’d left May in her care when he went off in search of the baron and Hugh showed that he had nerves of steel.

“As I feared,” was all the baron said, being equally reluctant to voice any more unsettling opinions.

He had been fully aware of the danger when he undertook this journey, and though this was tantamount to making off with a baby fire dragon while a rope tethered it to its mother’s neck, the Nobleman didn’t seem the least bit disquieted. Perhaps he was even grateful to have someone to baby-sit the children.

“I wonder how many foes remain,” the baron said absentmindedly.

And the Hunter immediately replied, “At least five, counting Lord Johann.”

“How do you know?”

“That’s the number I came up with by dividing the distance you have to travel by the number of times they’ve attacked. Each is given one attack—there may be slightly more, but I think that just about covers it.”

“Remarkable,” the baron said, and in his heart he was truly impressed. Though he didn’t know if that was the actual number, it agreed exactly with the figure he’d imagined. Although he’d hired this man because he’d heard he was the greatest Vampire Hunter in history, D’s power and abilities far exceeded even the baron’s conjecture—the young man was truly worthy of being dubbed a gorgeous demon prince.

On the other hand, there may have been some things about the young Nobleman D couldn’t fathom either.

In all their lengthy history, there were very few examples of the Nobility comprehending humanity, and that comprehension only extended as far as concrete measures such as reducing the humans’ labors or keeping them from being pillaged by other Nobles. The quintessential act of inhumanity—the drinking of blood—had never been done away with. Even Nobles who’d displayed boundless compassion for human beings while sated would sink their fangs into the throat of a girl whose head they’d patted lovingly should their hunger take root. There was no record of any Noble lasting three days alongside humans. In that sense, you could say that Baron Balazs deserved a place in history.

“Do you find it odd, D?” the Noble asked as if he’d read the Hunter’s mind, and D looked over at him in the driver’s seat.

“Do you know how to use telepathy?”

Long ago, the same ability had been a paranormal skill called “mind-reading.” It was probably that same talent that had allowed the baron to confer with D from the distant cover of a boulder.

“A little, you could say,” the baron responded. “To be honest, I can’t say I don’t feel a hopeless longing when I’m with the three of them. After sating my hunger with artificial blood, all the dreams I have in my coffin are of their pale throats. No doubt it’s the same with Miska. Come now, don’t give me that look! I’m still your employer, as it were. Rest assured. Even if you weren’t around, I could restrain myself until I reached my destination.”

D’s eyes gleamed as he asked, “Why is that?”

More than the question, it was unclear if the baron could fully comprehend the mindset of the one who posed it.

“My mother underwent a certain procedure while I was in her womb,” said the baron.

The wind snarled, and the wooden wheels broke the ground.

Perhaps the clouds that swirled in the darkened sky were calling up a storm. Lightning flashed.

D asked, “Who performed the procedure?”

The flash of light bleached both their faces, and then the thunder roared.

Due to its distance, the baron’s voice could still be heard distinctly as he replied, “The Sacred Ancestor.”

The Hunter’s horse galloped. The carriages raced along as well.

“Is that the reason you’re going to Krauhausen?”

“I suppose so,” the baron said, turning his eyes forward. “My mother pleaded with the Sacred Ancestor time and again not to do the procedure. But it was Vlad Balazs that insisted it continue.”

D said nothing.

“Do you know what the result was, D? Strangely enough, I get the feeling you’d understand.”

The baron raised his right hand. The back of his blue glove was covered by a piece of armor the same hue. When one of his five fingers made a sound like a motor, the armor plate slid back, glove and all, exposing the hand below, starting with the split finger.

__

There was a cry.

“What’s the matter?” Taki asked as she shook the girl awake.

May was terribly hot, her pink cheeks covered with tears and sweat. The girl’s eyelids seemed sewn shut as they trembled, and when they finally opened, her eyes were etched with a look of stark terror.

Looking up at Taki until her fear faded, May then buried her face against the woman’s chest.

“You’re okay now. You’re safe. Had a nightmare, did you?” Taki said as she stroked the girl’s shoulder, and the violence of the quaking she could feel made the young woman a captive of her mournful thoughts.

“It was Hugh . . . He was . . . His whole body just melted,” May cried as if her sobs had just been transformed into words. “It was scary . . . so scary . . . what happened to his body . . .”

“It was a dream. Just a bad dream,” Taki said as she stroked the girl’s hair gently. “I’m sure you’ll have better dreams now. Bad dreams don’t come true, you know.”

And then she softly shut her eyes and added in a tone May wouldn’t hear, “Neither do the good ones.”