CHAPTER 5

—

I

—

Silently and with a somewhat mournful look on her face, Su-In climbed the slope behind the sheriff’s office. When multiple screams of pain sent the sheriff running for the door, Su-In had been ready to get up out of her own seat. It was at that very moment that someone else had appeared between her and the lawman—the sheriff had left without even noticing. An involuntary cry of surprise had nearly spilled from Su-In, but she’d managed to choke it back down.

Wu-Lin?!

The girl who’d died in a distant town was staring at her older sister with the same pretty face she’d had in life. While Su-In knew this couldn’t be, such thoughts had already been swept away by a torrent of joy and nostalgia. It was probably only natural that when Wu-Lin headed over to the back door and beckoned to her, the older sister followed along without the least resistance. Her sister opened the door, stepped outside, and closed it again. Su-In repeated the same actions. Of course, she had no way of knowing that she was actually the very first person today to open and close that door.

As if mesmerized by the sadly beckoning Wu-Lin, her sister slipped out the back way and climbed the path up the mountain. There was no sign of anyone else. Before long, she came to a clearing that seemed to be part of a temple’s grounds. The surrounding woods only added to the darkness of the approaching night, though what looked like gravestones and the tip of a distant temple could be glimpsed at times through the rows of shadowy trunks. The light that seeped through the gaps in the leaves was almost bluish.

Backed by the verdigris-flecked bronze gates to the temple, Wu-Lin came to a halt. “Now that we’re up here, we should be free from interruption,” she said.

The voice that came from her cute little lips was that of an unbelievable temptress. And when Su-In heard it, her eyes grew fuzzy, and heartfelt tears rolled down her cheeks.

The beloved deceased—surely both the most fondly remembered and the most difficult thing to resist in the entire mortal world, the very sight of whom made thought and reason crumble. Not only could this sorcery conjure up a realistic image, but it also allowed the user to make the phantasm behave exactly as he or she wished.

The stark white figure that appeared beside the bronze gatepost like a challenge to the twilight was a beautiful woman garbed in dress as pristine as new-fallen snow. Yet as proof that her character was quite the opposite, the blue eyes below her finely shaped eyebrows were charged with an evil and ghostly glow as she stared at Su-In. The woman’s lips moved, as did the lips of Wu-Lin, whom Su-In alone could see.

“How fortunate for me that I guessed the murder of your grandfather would eventually bring you to the sheriff’s office so I could lay a trap for you there. Nevertheless, that’s a fearsome bodyguard you have. I most certainly wouldn’t want to confront him directly. I was wondering what I could do when he actually left you easily enough.” Chuckling, the woman added, “I really should thank him for that. Now, I have a question for you—where is the bead?”

But in Su-In’s mind, it became the voice of her sister, and it sounded like she said, “Where’s the bead at anyway? You can tell me, Sis.”

Her younger sister would’ve known where she’d put it, but Su-In was no longer capable of such rational thought. “I gave it to D to hold,” she replied.

“That was a stupid thing to do,” the woman snapped angrily, but an instant later she smiled. “It matters not who my foe is, though. So long as they live in this world of ours, they must carry someone in their heart they are unable to deny.” Chuckling to herself, she added, “And having such a person, they are no match for the power of ‘Samon of Remembrances.’ Actually, I see this woman has chosen a man to beckon her. Tell me, woman—what is that bead?”

“I really don’t know, Wu-Lin,” Su-In replied. She saw only the form of her younger sister. However, that wasn’t what Samon had just said. She’d said Su-In had conjured up a man. At Su-In’s reply, Samon tilted her head quizzically. “You called me Wu-Lin . . . and you’re not lying. You couldn’t be lying. So, I guess you don’t know then, do you? Are there any other beads?” she asked the woman.

“No.”

“Who knows what the bead really is?”

“No one. No one else in the village even knows it exists.”

“Is that a fact?” Samon said, grinning smugly. Wu-Lin smiled as well. “In that case, once I acquire the bead, there’ll be no further need for me to remain here. At any rate, I shall use you as bait to get the bead from that stripling Hunter, following which I’ll dispose of the both of you. Come!”

Beckoned by her younger sister, Su-In tottered unsteadily toward Samon. Her expression, mired in nostalgia, changed suddenly. Plowing through the haziness of awakening from a dream, memory and reason flooded back into her face.

Samon bugged her eyes. Her spell hadn’t failed. And no other external physical phenomenon was responsible either. Nevertheless, it was perfectly clear this woman had emerged from Samon’s spell of nostalgia.

Rooted for only a second, Su-In could tell at a glance Samon was her foe, and she then quickly retreated to the stone stairs that led to the temple.

“Who are you?!”

Ignoring the woman’s cry, Samon raced closer and tried to grab hold of Su-In’s hand. Though she didn’t think there was any problem with her power, it was also difficult for her to believe there might be some foe lurking nearby. No sooner did Samon realize Su-In’s other hand had come down on the hand grabbing the woman’s arm than the sorceress found herself sailing through the air. Astonishment ruined her landing—after turning a somersault, she still landed on her rear.

“Where did you learn that trick?!” Samon snarled, exposing her teeth.

Just then, she heard a calm and scholarly voice in her ear say, Leave now. And go throw yourself off a cliff somewhere, so you can meet a glorious end. The deep blue sea would be a perfect grave for you. Go now . . .

Samon would’ve told herself how ridiculous that was, but her will was rapidly fading. Peace and subservience flooding her heart, the beautiful but wicked warrior easily acquiesced.

The other woman was suddenly stripped of her overwhelming lust for killing and walked off between the trees, but Su-In didn’t follow her. Though she sensed she shouldn’t take the woman’s power too lightly, there was also a deep echo that’d resonated through Su-In’s heart at the same time the other woman had turned her back to her.

Don’t move, the voice bade her. Stay just where you are. And listen to me well. Who has the bead?

D does, Su-In responded, also solely in her mind.

That’s right. I heard that, too. This man named D is in possession of your family’s precious bead. Now, is that for the best? He’s a complete stranger to you, a drifter and a dhampir. He’s in league with the Nobility. Do you really think your prized possession is safe with such a man?

He’s not like that, Su-In said, refuting the remark with all her might.

Somewhere in the universe, someone seemed very surprised.

How strong your conviction! It would seem you’ve given serious thought to the matter. However, in our youth, everything appears as bright as the sun. Even a figure from the world of darkness. If you would, listen to me well now. And then think. Decide if my words to you aren’t the truth, and your own might not merely be prejudiced.

In reality, not a full second had passed since the first word had entered Su-In’s head. The words came to her as a mass of condensed information.

After a few more seconds, a gorgeous figure in black raced up the stone steps.

“D?!” Su-In cried, totally forgetting herself as she clung to his powerful chest. But then she pulled back again as if she’d bounced right off him.

“Are you okay?” D asked tersely.

“Yeah. But wait till you hear this.”

Su-In then went on to tell the Hunter all about Samon using an illusion of her sister, as well as about the voice in her head. “I don’t know why, but the voice was trying to talk me into taking the bead from you. You suppose that woman has managed to get away by now, too?”

“Probably.”

“This is beginning to scare me.”

“Why don’t you just give them the bead then?” D suggested.

“Like hell I will! I dare you to say that again. I’ll slap you silly if you ever do.”

Saying nothing, D gazed into the woman’s eyes.

“But how did you know to find me here?”

“You’re better off not knowing.”

“Loose lips sink ships, eh? You’re sharp, all right,” Su-In said, stroking her hair. “It looks like that bead’s really valuable, wouldn’t you say?”

“So it would seem.”

“Well, that just makes me all the more reluctant to let them have it, then,” Su-In said with a smile. It was a fearless grin. Such a look normally would’ve only suited a man’s face, but it fit her perfectly now.

The two of them started down the stone steps.

After the pair had disappeared around a corner, an old man whose face was overrun by a beard as white as snow appeared from behind a pillar opposite the gate where Samon had first showed herself. Had he been perusing some heavy tome, he’d have been the very picture of a man of letters, but an air of menace unthinkable from a simple scholar hung all about his cloaked form.

“I’ve been in town for two days now. So, we meet at last, do we?” Professor Krolock muttered, sounding like he’d finally solved some equation after endlessly wracking his brain. His eyes dropped to the two parchments he gripped in his right hand. Limned in jagged lines, the face of one was no more than a rough sketch—a good rank below the one he’d done of Wu-Lin before—but despite its hasty nature, it definitely captured her character well. “With that first woman, I only had a rough sketch to persuade, but I suppose it should have the desired effect. But the other woman will require a little more effort, I believe. And you, D! I already have one for you in my possession. We shall soon see exactly how long your dhampir blood can fight my powers of persuasion.”

—

After the sun went down, the roar of the surf suddenly grew much closer. Even at Su-In’s home, where the footsteps of those busy preparing for the wake never died down, the sea sounded bleak and forlorn.

D was in the barn. The remains of Su-In’s grandfather were being kept out there, coffin and all. There was no shortage of demons looking to invade a body whose soul had departed. To prevent them from doing so, corpses would be washed and purified with salt water, and their veins would be filled with spring water. The only other preparations consisted of having the mortal remains spend the night in the barn, which now had protective wards against demons posted in sixteen different spots. The people who’d found the body had done the salt water purification ceremony, while the doctor had injected the spring water. The head monk from the local temple would’ve ordinarily traced a circle around the barn to keep evil spirits at bay, but he wasn’t around at the moment as he’d been called away by a major disaster in a nearby fishing village. Fortunately, a traveling holy man who was staying at the village inn was convinced to do the final part. The reason D was now stationed there was because, even after every possible precaution had been taken, there were still some entities that needed only the tiniest opening to slip into someone else’s flesh.

Su-In was in the main house, busy with preparations for the wake. Visitors would be coming by to pay their respects to the deceased after midnight. It was 9:00 Night now.

The footsteps that sounded outside the barn had reached D’s ears from a long way off. Shortly thereafter, there was a knock at the sliding door and one of the neighborhood women who was helping out poked her head in. Flushing crimson, she told the Hunter he had a visitor. “He’s fiftyish and has a bushy beard. He’s toting around an iron staff. Says he’s got something to tell you.”

“Get someone to take my place here.”

With these words, D left the barn.

The night was staggeringly dark. There was no moon or stars—only the voice of the tides could be heard, singing about the sea.

Not entering the main house, the Hunter instead circled around to the front door.

A bored-looking man stood under the eaves. He looked more like a messenger who’d come to deliver some news than someone who’d come to pick a fight. Not only was there no lust for killing about him, but the way his towering frame was stooped over and peering in through one of the windows was almost comical.

“You have business with me?” D called out from beside him.

Turning around in surprise, the man had a sparkle in his eyes. The light by the front door painted gleaming highlights on the bushy black growth that covered his face from the nose down.

Suddenly drawing himself up, the giant of a man said in an unexpectedly dignified tone, “Nice to meet you. I’m ‘King Egbert.’ I’m one of the five that find themselves in Gilligan’s service. At the moment, I’m working on my own. Two of the others have already had the pleasure of meeting you, haven’t they?”

Here the man held his tongue to see D’s reaction, but the utter lack of response left him off-balance. Coughing, he added, “I’m not real big on subterfuge, you know. If we’re to fight, I want to do it fair and square. Though if you were to just give me the bead, we could end this without even doing that.”

“Where should we do this?”

The curt and cold nature of D’s reply left Egbert flabbergasted. “You mean to tell me we can’t talk this over?” he asked as he stroked his impressive beard.

“If it’s the bead you’re after, we won’t give it to you.”

“Hmm. Then I guess you’re going to force my hand. That’s a pity.”

The real question was why the man had said it was a pity. Could he sense D’s true power, or was he referring instead to the good looks the Hunter stood to lose?

Shifting the seven-foot-long iron staff he had under his left arm to his right hand instead, the man said, “Well, would you step over there with me? After all, I don’t want to spoil the funeral by getting blood all over the place.”

“It was one of your friends who killed him,” D said icily.

Indignantly Egbert shot back, “You’d better watch your mouth. I don’t rely on anyone but myself. There’s nothing I loathe more than taking on co-conspirators. What he did has nothing to do with me.”

“Maybe in theory.”

“At any rate, we can do it over here,” the bearded man said as he left the property first and walked toward the seashore.

Crossing the street, he leapt off a stone embankment and landed on the sand ten feet below. The flashy way he landed, kicking sand up everywhere and looking like he was going to lose his balance, might’ve been a trick to lull his opponent into complacency. If it wasn’t, it didn’t seemly likely he would’ve been fit to work as a warrior or bodyguard.

Seeing D touch down softly, he groaned appreciatively, “You certainly are something, aren’t you? I could’ve extended my country from here all the way up to that house, but I figure there’s no need to show off.”

Walking another hundred feet toward where the surf lapped at the shore, Egbert then halted—only the waves made any appreciable sound. The water’s edge was less than thirty feet away. The darkness was like a heavy coat of lacquer, yet through that murk, D’s eyes could discern the enormous ring that encircled both Egbert and himself. Further scrutiny would reveal that strange bumps and hollows dotted its interior. These shapes were bits of tree branches artlessly stuck in the soft sand, rocks that’d been set there, and a long, thin ditch that looked to have been scooped out by someone’s fingers.

“Think this is strange?” Egbert asked as he rested the iron staff against his shoulder. Although his tone was solemn, the gap between that and his easy manner would’ve been enough to make the average person tilt his or her head in puzzlement. “This is my kingdom. All of it is mine to command. I could make it larger if I liked, but it’d take some time to bring it under my control. Well, I suppose this is a reasonable size. But before we do anything—” Egbert began as if something had just occurred to him, then he took a dozen steps that brought him outside the closest edge of the ring. “Come with me. Let’s try this outside my country.”

D stepped out of the circle, too.

Upon leaving about ten feet between them, the opponents squared off.

Letting out a breath, Egbert locked the iron staff under his arm. He never dropped his guard for a second. As warriors went, he was first-rate.

First-rate—the term had a hollow ring to it when you were face-to-face with D.

A blur of black as he went for the sheath on his back, D drew his weapon, too. The tip of his sword was low, stopping just shy of touching the sand. Though it was almost impossible for most swordsmen to bisect their opponent when bringing the blade up from such a low position, it was even more difficult for a foe to parry it.

“So after I win I guess I get the bead, but where should I look for it?”

D replied to this impudent remark by extending his left hand. His fist opened.

Seeing what lay in it, Egbert nodded. “Okay—let’s do this!”

The sand that covered one of Egbert’s feet started to rise. Feinting a charge, he stopped cold as a stone statue.

D had become darkness itself, and an unearthly aura gusted from the tip of his blade.

The man’s innards chilled, his muscles and nerves shrank back.

“Vampire Hunter D . . .” Egbert said, his frozen tongue moving as if in a dream. “I finally realize the full weight that name carries. I don’t care how tough a Noble might be . . . it wouldn’t mean squat up against you . . .” Just as his hoarse groan dwindled, his iron staff lashed out.

Though he hadn’t seen D move, the instant Egbert felt his blow parried, he made a horizontal sweep with his staff. There was a sound of otherworldly beauty, and sparks shot out. Knowing simply from the vibrations transmitted to the palm of his clenched hand that the tip of his staff had been severed, he truly was a first-rate combatant.

A flash of black mowed without hesitation through Egbert’s neck. Or more precisely, where his neck had been. Coincidences like this were one in a million. Egbert had avoided D’s deadly slash by falling flat on the ground. Although totally involuntary, the move had saved him by a hairsbreadth. But as proof that he was indeed a warrior, Egbert hurled the staff he held at D before the Hunter could bring another blow down on him, then threw himself into the circle.

D wasn’t the sort to just let a fleeing foe escape. Easily dodging the iron staff, he entered the circle at the very moment Egbert got to his feet. Once more the Hunter’s blade sped toward his opponent’s torso. Something flashed up into D’s field of view, and then there was the thunk! of his blade hacking into something hard. A few seconds later, it fell over, raining leaves and branches on the ground. It was a tree trunk, seven feet tall and eight inches thick. It had delayed D’s blade a second and saved Egbert’s life. And it had suddenly appeared where there’d been nothing before. But no, D alone saw that wasn’t entirely the case—he’d clearly seen it growing up out of the ground. Growing from a little piece of branch.

As D tried to pursue the fleeing Egbert, three trees sprang up in rapid succession, clustered tightly together right in front of the Hunter. Slashing right through them, D slipped between the trunks of what were clearly genuine trees before they’d even fallen over. He was greeted by Egbert, who stood ready with another iron staff he’d obviously kept buried in the sand.

—

II

—

D’s eyes were infused with an eerie light—he’d just realized the unbelievable changes that had come over both Egbert and himself.

Egbert seemed swollen to twice his normal size—not in corporeal terms, but so far as the confidence and power his physique exuded. As if to prove that was no trick of the mind, he cried, “Take that!” and made a thrust with his staff that was ten times faster than before.

Although D did an excellent job of parrying the blow, he reeled from it, knocked off-balance. His sword was heavy. So was his body. It was so strange, as if his flesh had suddenly turned to lead, or gravity itself had been changed.

“How do you like that, Vampire Hunter?” Egbert said, his tone just as dignified as before. But as he held the staff rock steady, the intensity of the killing lust that radiated from the end of it was beyond comparison to when he’d first challenged D.

Without warning, the end of the staff vanished. Feeling the force of the wind as the weapon shot up from below toward his left temple, D didn’t back away, but moved forward instead.

Contact! There was the crack of what could only be a bone snapping. But that sound was joined by a cry of astonishment.

If nothing else, the act had been reckless. D’s left wrist had stopped the iron staff as it ripped through the air, and through the opening left by Egbert’s surprise the Hunter had stabbed the other man in the left side of his chest. The giant reeled back without a word, bright blood gushing from him as the sword came out.

Upon realizing that the thrust that should’ve gone through his foe’s heart had missed the vital point, D was about to advance when suddenly the ground at his feet gave way. A second later his body was knee-deep in the sand, but only for an instant before the hem of his coat spread like wings and he took to the air.

Following after him like some bizarre hand was a long streamer from his knees down to his ankles. Falling to the ground, it sent up a splash. The ground had turned to water, and the thing wrapped around D’s leg had been a watery tendril, too.

Sand bouncing up sharply around his feet as he landed, D leapt once more and came back to earth on ordinary ground.

“I thought you’d fall in, but you’re even better than I expected,” Egbert could be heard to say from some forty feet away, and it was obvious from the sound of his voice he was choking back his pain. “But do you think you can reach me here?”

D didn’t answer, and he didn’t move.

Waves were breaking at his feet. The shoreline was over thirty feet away—yet still there were waves here. And who else but D would’ve noticed that tiny ripples were spreading out from Egbert’s feet in all directions? Had there been any moonlight, the small but unmistakable crests on them would’ve glittered visibly. The sands were becoming a sea. A sea forty feet wide, all inside the circle Egbert had scribed.

“Can you reach me?” Egbert asked in a low voice. “Gravity, the woods, and now the sea itself all protect me. And that’s not all. Here’s something else—you have to see this,” he laughed. “The soldiers of my kingdom!”

Something else came into being in the breaking waves. First, black spheres came to the surface. Heads. Their nature was made apparent by the shoulders, arms, and torsos below them as they rose smoothly. Perhaps it was because these “fake” beings had just risen from the sea, but water dripped lazily from the seaweed-like hair that fell over their foreheads, and it wouldn’t have been at all surprising if their eyes had glazed over and fallen right out. From the neck down they were like the soldiers one might see in a hologram collection for children in the traveling library, dressed in primitive armor and armed with crude swords. Completely filling D’s field of view, there were more than a dozen of them.

Coughing and clearing their throats, they spit out blackish wads. Spattering against the waves, these turned out to be sand. They then turned their black faces to the heavens, and the silence was broken by the sound of them inhaling one after another. Spitting out the sand that clogged their windpipes and drawing in the fresh air, these “soldiers” were imbued with “life.”

“I can make mountains, if need be. Or rivers, or even vampires,” Egbert said, his voice inebriated with self-love even as he pressed down on the shoulder wound that wouldn’t stop bleeding. But he could probably do exactly what he said. Inside the ring he’d scribed in the sand—this eldritch zone he’d established—he was the absolute ruler, a monarch without peer. With but a single command from him a stick would become a stand of trees, a puddle became the sea, and mud figurines he’d prepared were transformed into the mightiest of soldiers. Here in his self-made “kingdom.”

The metallic scabbards rasped as the soldiers drew their swords.

D didn’t move. Although the sea didn’t look like it’d come up past his ankles, he’d already determined that it was actually incredibly deep. Now a stranger in this land, he had to consider every possible element his enemy.

“His left hand is useless—attack him from that side!” Egbert shouted.

At his command, his soldiers charged at D with their glittering blades.

But they probably never heard a hoarse voice howl, “His left hand is useless, eh? I’ll show you!”

Suddenly there was a powerful gust of wind. Waves began to build and break on the sea that lay in defense of Egbert, and in the blink of an eye, the vast body of water became a thin layer of liquid suspended in the air. All the wind was blowing toward a single point. Toward D—and his supposedly broken left hand.

And what a powerful gale it was. But it didn’t blow the soldiers through the air. Before it could, the tendrils of wind had already ripped away the flesh and blood that formed their bodies. Necks twisted, arms snapped, and the torsos they’d been joined to broke apart in midair, returning to their original form—sand, to be precise—before they were sucked into D’s left hand.

Perhaps it was the combination of this terrible shock and the pain in Egbert’s shoulder, but his spell seemed to falter as the soldiers, the protective grove, and the surface of the sea all vanished. Huddled on the beach, Egbert was left as exposed as the fairy-tale emperor in his new clothes.

With his blade in his right hand, D paced forebodingly toward his foe. A contest of this sort always ended in death. That was the iron rule for those who made a business of doing battle.

Egbert looked up. In another second, there’d be a bloody horizontal swipe just below his fearful, upturned face.

But D’s blade stopped in midair.

“I’m not going to kill you,” the Hunter told him. “I have a message for your friends. Tell them I have the bead. And if they want it, it’s me they should come after.”

The eyes of the two men met, and sparks seemed to fly. And then there was a surprised cry of “Oh!” from somewhere.

D turned toward the sea.

There was no moon. Not even the stars were visible. But D, of all people, could still see. Over by where the stark waves broke, out in the water less than fifteen feet from shore, stood a caped figure submerged up to his waist. The wind that drove the waves also carried an ineffable aura that buffeted D’s cheeks.

“Baron Meinster—are you back from the sea?” D said, his words drifting far off into a darkness forsaken by light.

However, their confrontation lasted mere seconds. The sea behind the figure seemed to suddenly build, and a massive wave filled D’s field of view. And after that had wiped the surface clean, there was no sign of life whatsoever.

Somewhere, a seagull cried. The surf made the only other sound.

Sheathing his blade, D looked over his shoulder. There was no sign of Egbert. Not even his bloodstains remained. And that was no mean feat.

“Did you see that?” D’s left hand asked.

“Yes.”

“He was pretty intense. In all my days, I’ve never heard of such a thing. Wind up on the wrong side of him, and it could spell trouble for you.”

“Yes, it might.”

“Yeah, but there’s something else,” the voice said introspectively. “I don’t quite know what it is, but he doesn’t seem like ordinary Nobility, either. He’s a Noble, but then again he’s not. Like someone else I know. He had the same feel to him. And another thing . . .”

D turned to look off over the roaring surf., as if something he’d lost lay out there.

The voice said, “He had the saddest eyes. Crazy for blood, but truly sad at the same time. That’s just like someone else, too.”

D’s hair flowed out around him. Apparently the wind had changed direction. The wind coming off the freezing sea was terribly cold.

“The north wind?” said the voice. “The north sea, you, and him. If you were to leave town right now, you might save yourself from something you’ll only want to forget.”

D didn’t reply. A short while later, the gorgeous figure turned his back on the eternal voice of the sea.

When he returned to Su-In’s home, he found there’d been some excitement—it seemed someone had broken into one of the back bedrooms and ransacked it. When D stepped into Su-In’s room, everything was in such disarray it looked like a miniature hurricane had torn through it.

From what Su-In and the neighborhood women helping her said, around the time D went down to the beach they had finished decorating for the wake and everyone was taking a break in the living room when they distinctly heard the sound of one thing after another hitting the floor. Now, these were housewives, but these women not only lived out on the Frontier, but in a village full of fishermen. Not knowing whether this was a burglar out to capitalize on someone’s hour of misfortune or some spirit looking for a body to possess, they took harpoons and machetes in hand and noisily made their way to the back of the house with prayer beads and other talismans held out in front of them. Though burglars and the vast majority of carnivores would’ve fled at the sound of their footsteps, this thing was completely undeterred, continuing to tear the room apart even as the group pounded away at the door.

Now infuriated, the women wanted to get the door or window open, but that didn’t work—they seemed to be locked. When they asked Su-In about it, she said she’d locked up just to be safe. The key was brought quickly and slotted into the keyhole, where it turned easily enough. But the door itself still wouldn’t budge at all. Someone suggested they try to get in through the window, but that had been locked from the inside and the glass itself seemed to have a sort of semi-translucent film over it. Perhaps that was why when they hit it with a rock the glass cracked but wouldn’t come apart at all.

One short-tempered matron became furious and, shouting that she’d gladly pay to replace the door, hammered away at it with the ax they used to split firewood. Apparently there was none of the weird film there, as the ax sank deep into the door. Even the audacious burglar must’ve been startled by that, as the racket inside ceased immediately, and then one of the neighborhood women with a hint of extrasensory perception informed them that all signs of anyone being in there had already vanished. As the woman declared, “The culprit’s gone,” they broke in the door and the whole group charged in, only a minute or so having passed since the first blow of the ax.

It was five minutes later, after an exhaustive search of the ransacked room, that they learned it was just as the housewife had said. The window was locked, too. Before the ruckus, Su-In had secured it just as she’d done with the door. And the culprit hadn’t left by either of them. How had he or she even gotten in to begin with? The only direct way outside was the window on the southern side, but not only had it been coated with the same strange mucus—probably to prevent anyone from interfering with his or her work—but it was also still locked. As for the door, it had the same mucus on all four edges, which was why it wouldn’t open even after it’d been unlocked.

The mucus—or gelatinous substance—was quite unusual. It was flexible and soft to the touch, like gelatin or a jellyfish, yet once it had been stretched a certain distance it became hard as steel and impossible to cut. Anything set on its surface would stick to it like glue so that no amount of pushing or pulling could budge it.

After the circumstances had been explained and D had inspected the room and the strange substance, he told Su-In, “I know who did this.”

Su-In’s eyes bulged in their sockets. “But—how in the world could someone manage this?”

“That I don’t know,” D said nonchalantly.

The reply was a tad dismissive, but when it came from this young man’s mouth it somehow seemed like he was imparting some great universal truth, and Su-In couldn’t very well complain.

“You don’t know how, and yet you still know who’s responsible?” she asked.

“This is the same as the skin off that character who impersonated your grandfather this morning. It’s in a different state, but the basic substance is one and the same.”

“In that case, you think that impostor broke in here to steal the bead?”

“Undoubtedly that was the aim.”

Su-In made a dubious expression. The blow that’d cut deep into Twin’s shoulder hadn’t sprung to mind. After being wounded that badly, not even the toughest person would feel like coming back there the same day to rob the place. “Okay, then who did it, and how’d they get inside?”

“Is there anyone in the barn?” asked D.

“Mr. Kotoff.”

Accompanied by Su-In, D left the main house. Perhaps sensing that something was wrong, Su-In sped ahead to the barn and opened the door. The coffin rested on a row of wooden boxes, and before it was a man with graying hair who was snoring to beat the band. A bottle of cheap liquor stood vigilantly beside the box on which the man’s head rested. Not surprisingly, only about a third of its contents remained.

D and Su-In made a thorough inspection of the area around the coffin. Nothing was out of place. Even the seal on it to ward off demons was still intact.

“Should we open it?” Su-In asked, looking at D as she reached for the lid of the coffin.

Signaling to the girl to stay back, D opened the lid instead.

Grampa Han lay there in his coffin looking exactly as he had when Sun-In had placed him in it.

“Looks like nothing’s out of the ordinary, right?”

“You should get that guy out of here,” the Hunter told her. “He’s of no use to us like this.”

“D . . .” Su-In started to say, fear swimming in her eyes for the first time as she gazed at the Hunter. Quickly nodding her assent, she lifted Kotoff up. Easily shouldering a body that looked to weigh at least a hundred and seventy pounds, the woman walked out without a backward glance.

Once the door had been shut and Su-In’s footsteps had faded into the distance, D tugged the wool sweater Grampa Han was wearing up over the old man’s chest. Pulling a silver dagger from the inside lining of his coat with his left hand, he drove it into the old man’s heart without a second’s hesitation. There was no reaction at all from the paraffin-pale body.

Whether or not that result was satisfactory couldn’t be discerned from the Hunter’s handsome but emotionless face as D pulled the old man’s sweater back down and closed the coffin’s lid.

“Is that what you were expecting?” D’s left hand asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Burglars these days must be getting pretty clever. At any rate, once they know you’re in possession of the thing, nothing too bad should happen. So, what were you planning on doing next?”

“You saw him, too,” said D.

“Damn. As if the summer wasn’t short enough to begin with, now we’ve got one problem springing up after another. It’s gonna rain blood. That’s what your fortune says.”

“My fortune?”

“That’s right,” D’s left hand replied. “I recently learned how to tell fortunes from the wind. Depending on the direction, the timbre of it, and whether it’s strong or weak, you can tell if good things or bad are coming.”

“And where did you learn all this?” D asked, completely unfazed.

“Right here, of course. Smack in the middle of your grubby little mitt.”

“When?”

“Little bits here and there, whenever you weren’t working me like a dog,” the voice replied grumpily. “After a hard day’s work, most folks whine about how tired they are and how they just can’t wait to get some sleep. But those with willpower show those heavy eyelids who’s boss and go right on working. That’s the only way wise people come to be in this world. The wind taught me that. And it said that before the summer’s over, winds of misery will blow through here colored with vermilion. Any way you look at it, the days are just gonna get harder and harder starting tomorrow.”

—

“You were as powerless as I expected, weren’t you?” asked the voice of someone on an elegantly carved sofa in the darkness. The shadowy figure lay at length on the piece of furniture. The voice was that of Shin.

“He’s a fearsome character, to be sure,” Egbert said with a sigh, not completely admitting defeat. Although there was no hint of pain in his voice, the feeling of exhaustion was undeniable. Whether the compatriots and competitors that surrounded him would believe that was another matter entirely. For these men and this woman, remaining suspicious was the very best way to remain alive. “That’s no ordinary Hunter,” Egbert continued.

“He’s a dhampir,” said Twin. His voice came from beside the black door. “And he’s not an ordinary dhampir, either.”

“You mean to tell me there are different ranks of dhampirs?”

“Damned if I know. At any rate, I’m not sure any one of us could go head-to-head with him and come out on top.”

“See, I told you so,” Shin said in a reproachful tone. “There’s no saying we couldn’t take him out one-on-one with proper planning, but even then, there’s a strong probability of us being killed. That cold steel and the eerie aura around him—just thinking back on them scares me. I guess the only thing we can do is join forces, right?”

“It’s a little early to be doing that,” Twin interrupted. “Two of the others haven’t come back yet—the mature Ms. Samon and Gyohki.”

“How do you know she’s mature if you’ve never seen her face?” Egbert asked, his voice echoing from the center of the room. “I always thought of you as an old shit.”

Cackling, Twin replied, “Relax. I wouldn’t fiddle around with an old bird like that.”

“Just what are you trying to say?!” Egbert shot back.

Following that outburst that hardly suited his solemn tone, the strange zone fell into darkness.

At that moment, someone with an unmistakably voluptuous figure came in.

“Speak of the devil,” Shin said with amusement. “So, how did it go? Was it worth it for us to hang around here?”

“I was interrupted,” the woman replied in a voice that carried a remarkable weight of scorn—an emotion that was directed at herself.

“You too, huh?”

At Egbert’s remark, Samon snapped back, “For your information, it wasn’t the man known as D. It was someone else who uses a strange power. I was so close to taking the girl captive and getting the bead. The next time I run into him, I’ll tear him to pieces,” Samon said, although she hadn’t even seen the person using that sorcery—Professor Krolock. All she could recall were the eerie suggestions whispered in her ear. Her display of rage was ninety-nine percent genuine, with the last one percent mere vanity.

“Who was he?”

“I don’t know. I didn’t see his face.”

“So, in other words, he beat you like a dog and you don’t even know who he is?”

Samon bit her lip. A thin streak of black ran from that beautiful rose petal. Blood.

“Well, no matter who it was, you blew it, too,” Shin said in a tone that seemed intended to cow all the others.

“I wouldn’t be so quick to say that,” she replied.

“Okay, whatever you say. But it’s clear a new opponent has arrived on the scene. If we all go off doing our own thing without knowing who that is, we’ll be leaving ourselves wide open. We may not know who he is, but he probably knows about us. You should be reproaching yourself instead of overestimating your own abilities.”

“What about Gyohki?” Twin said in a snickering voice that seemed to hang in the air like a balloon.

“He always wants everything for himself. Don’t think there’d be much point in asking him,” said Egbert.

“Then what do you say we leave him out of our alliance?”

“That’ll be great,” Twin could be heard to say as he clapped his hands with childlike glee.

“How about you, Samon?” asked Shin.

“Do whatever you like,” she said, assenting with surprising ease.

“Then it’s decided. Okay, I’ll take charge.”

For an instant, a rebellious feeling churned through the murky chamber, but the reason it settled again so quickly might’ve been respect for the speaker’s age, or that all of them understood this arrangement was only for the time being.

“So, what’ll we do?” Egbert asked.

“Before we get down to that, I’ve got a few questions. For you in particular, Samon.”

“And what would they be?”

“You told us someone put a spell on you, but how did you get free of it?”

The answer wasn’t soon in coming.

After a span of five or six breaths, she replied, “I was free of it before I knew it.”

“Hmm. And you, Twin—you’ve been acting kind of odd,” said Shin. “You’re strangely cheerful. What are you hiding from us?”

There was a burst of laughter flavored with the aforementioned cheer. Though his silhouette was barely visible, his left shoulder looked bigger, no doubt being heavily wrapped in bandages. Yet for all that he was remarkably upbeat. “Stop jumping into this boss thing and being so suspicious of everyone. Don’t bring stuff up until you’ve got something to go on. Okay? Not till you’ve got something.”

“Everyone’s a critic,” Shin said in return, though his tone was not one of anger or disgust, but rather one of sheer delight. “Fine. We’ve all got our own little secret schemes. If we didn’t, we wouldn’t be working together on this in the first place. Okay, listen up. This is my plan.”

There in the darkness, the murk then seemed to take on a new and heavier layer.

—

III

—

The next morning, D left the barn and walked down to the beach. It was early morning, and while there was a melted sort of light out, some of the darkness of night yet remained. Ash-gray clouds hung in the sky. Down on the beach, where the surf beat against the sand, there was a row of powerboats some fifteen to twenty feet from the edge of where Egbert’s “kingdom” had hosted a deadly battle the previous night. Each of them rested on wooden rails—an arrangement that made it possible to push them down to the sea without too much exertion. The boats themselves were roughly fifteen feet long and seven feet across at the widest point. When packed with two or three tons of cargo, that barely left room for a lone helmsman.

He saw Su-In up mopping the deck of a boat. She wore rubber gloves. A rubber apron covered the front of her, and while the Hunter couldn’t see her feet, she probably had rubber boots on as well. Sweat beaded on her sunburnt skin. The morning was so still, the sound of her mop on the boards and her breathing seemed louder than the waves. The breath that spilled from Su-In’s lips was a mass of white that scattered like a fog. Behind her loomed the rugged cliffs, dark and twisted.

Stretching her back, Su-In put a hand on her hip before she turned in D’s direction and gave a small cry of surprise. “You’re up early. You should still be sleeping. Oh, I forgot daytime is when you—” she started to say, and then hurriedly covered her mouth with one hand. Her eyes were filled with uncertainty as she watched for D’s reaction, but she soon grinned again. The dhampir didn’t seem to mind a bit.

“The funeral is in four hours,” D said from the beach below.

Grampa Han’s remains were going to be interred in the backyard. The Hunter seemed to be implying she might want to take it easy.

“I won’t accomplish much moping around and thinking about the deceased, you know. I’ve got to concentrate on what I’m gonna do from here on out instead. Once we’ve buried my grandfather, I’m heading out to go fishing.”

As the woman wiped the sweat from her brow, D watched her silently. “If you’ve finished cleaning that up, I’d like to ask you about something,” he finally said.

“Sure thing. Don’t be shy—ask away.”

“Is Meinster’s castle very far from here?”

“Yeah. If you’re going overland, it’s about an hour on horseback from that fork in the road.”

“And by boat?”

Somewhat aghast, Su-In replied, “It’s less than thirty minutes if you go along the shore. Why do you ask?”

“There’s something I’d like to see.”

Su-In’s lip stuck out as she reflected on that remark, but then she suddenly took her plump hands and smacked her even plumper cheeks before replying, “Okay. I’ll take you. On the water or even in it, I’ll be just as safe so long as you’re with me.”

—

After they’d gone ten minutes, the beach vanished and sheer cliffs that had to be two hundred to two hundred and fifty feet high could be seen off the boat’s starboard side as they left waves in their wake. The black cliffs were like a solid wall, with almost no crags or crevasses of any kind. There wasn’t a hint of green on them, either.

“It’s like this all the way to where the Nobility had their cottages. I’m sure they must’ve made it that way. One theory is they did it so the creatures they made out at sea couldn’t come back to them,” Su-In explained from the tiny pilothouse, which was shielded by fiberglass on three sides.

There was almost no swell on the sea. Though it felt like there was a breeze blowing out of the west, it apparently wasn’t strong enough to whip up any crests.

“Take a look down below,” she said to the gorgeous figure standing at the prow.

D turned his gaze from the cliffs. In the dark waters below them, foot-long black shapes swam past elegantly.

“There’s a treasure trove of fish in this area. Especially in our one week of summer, when the currents change and push in more kinds of fish than I can count. Although there are some nasty varieties in there, too. What’s wrong?” Su-In suddenly asked, having sensed something from D’s profile. Her heartbeat was racing.

D kept gazing down at the water without replying, but shortly thereafter he looked up and told her it was nothing.

“Well, that’s a relief. See, from time to time some strange critters come up from the depths of the sea. If we were to run into something like that, it’d trash a boat this size in nothing flat. That reminds me—can dhampirs swim?”

“What do you think?”

“I don’t know. From what I’ve heard, the thicker the Noble blood in you, the more likely you are to sink like a stone. But somehow I get the feeling you’re an exception to the rule.”

Fighting the wind, Su-In smoothed her hair back down.

Another twenty minutes passed. Beyond the ever-present cliffs, the outline of the strange land shrouded in a thin fog was becoming clearer and clearer. The first thing to come into view looked to be an endless expanse of smooth green slope beneath the white veil. Closing the distance further, it became clear when the sea breeze stayed out of their eyes that the green was in fact a thick growth of trees, while the white shapes dotted between them appeared to be buildings of some sort.

Columns carved with an incredible level of detail, stylish bay windows with frosted glass that made everything inside look like it was veiled in white silk—around houses whose designs combined the classical with the ultra-modern, a white stairway zipped as if tracing the path of a shooting star. In part of what was barely recognizable as a garden, the orderly rows of high bushes and the tasteful little arbors and lights still remained, though all had long since ceased to have any purpose and it would be clear to any eye that they drowsed now in the light of destruction.

Even knowing that these were ruins left by creatures that’d dwelt in blood-stained darkness, the things to be seen here brought a desolate wind blowing through the viewer’s heart. And realizing that she was listening to the song the wind had to sing of the glory of ancient days and of destruction with a boundless sympathy, the woman was shocked.

“The resort area is about four hundred acres, all told. Some scientist that came out from the Capital said roughly ten thousand Nobles used to live there,” Su-In said as she guided her boat toward the vast pier. The foggy vista increased. “That’s why you see all of these boats here.”

D’s field of view was filled by a desolate scene. Like the fingers of a corpse reaching from a foggy swamp, prows, masts, and solar panels jutted from the sea, while countless other boats lay on their sides alongside the rusty red hulls of ships. Out in the fleet of orderly moored boats, schooners, and submarines, the only thing that moved were the sea birds that nested on them, and the sole sound that rang out was the pounding of the waves. Skillfully working the engine, Su-In angled her power boat between a white sailing vessel and another boat.

When they were within twenty feet of shore, D turned around. Despite herself, Su-In looked back, too. There was nothing there. The only thing that disturbed the foggy surface of the sea was the white trail flowing along behind their boat. Suddenly remembering what she was doing, Su-In faced forward again.

There was a noise from the water behind them—the sound of bubbles popping.

She didn’t turn around. D was staring at her. Fear paralyzed Su-In. She was scared. Terribly scared. Su-In realized she had a beautiful Grim Reaper on board.

But the ominous mood suddenly dissipated. At that very same moment, Su-In stopped the boat. The harbor lay directly ahead of them. The next thing the woman knew, she was soaked with sweat. And she was cold. The chill wasn’t in the air, but was a cooling of the very fount of life in her by a primeval frost. Was this the sort of thing those of Noble blood could do?

“What is it?” Su-In asked, trying to keep the fright from showing in her voice. “Is there something in the water?”

“It’d be best to take the overland route back,” the Hunter replied.

“I can’t do that. I need this boat. My livelihood depends on her.”

“I’ll bring it back for you.”

“You think I’d trust her to an amateur? Don’t talk nonsense. You saw something after all, didn’t you?”

D said nothing.

Realizing that he was the sort of man who never said anything unless he was absolutely certain about it, Su-In let the matter drop. The soles of her feet were itching.

First D climbed up on the pier, and then he took the mooring line from Su-In and tied it to a pole. “Are we close to Meinster’s castle?” he asked.

“We’re about a thirty-minute walk away. Even though his is the only castle facing the sea, you can’t tie a boat up there.”

“Where is it?”

“Over there,” Su-In said, pointing toward the slope lined with vacation homes. As she did so, she also slung the belt with the seven-shot spear gun she’d brought from the boat over one shoulder.

Wide stone steps climbed the slope.

“Have you ever been there before?” D asked. The pendant on his chest was giving off a blue glow.

“Yeah, a couple of times when I was a kid.”

“Got a lot of gumption,” said a ridiculously hoarse voice that was nothing like D’s, causing Su-In to stare in disbelief in the direction the words had come from.

“Shall we go?” D said, stepping forward with his left hand balled tightly. On closer inspection, a faint shadow of a smile might’ve been glimpsed on the Hunter’s lips, although he wasn’t even aware of it himself.

The pair began to climb the stone steps. Just fifty yards in from the edge of the harbor, the slope had already begun. The staircase wasn’t the only thing that traversed the crazy tangle of trees—there were a number of roads running to and fro through them, and a cable car could be seen stopped halfway up the slope. The latter had run not only up and down, but had also gone from side to side as it carried the residents of these lodges down to the wharf or whisked them to dance parties. Somewhat resembling an airship, the elegant body of the cable car was now tangled with green ivy and covered with fallen leaves, buried in the flow of the dawn.

But how many dozens of steps were there?

Tilting her head to one side, Su-In remarked, “You know, this staircase is kind of funny. No matter how many steps you climb, you never get tired.”

“That’s because the gravity control unit’s still functioning.”

“Since over a thousand years ago?” she said, only realizing after voicing the question that if this young man said so, it must be true. “The Nobility sure did some incredible things,” Su-In exclaimed with wonder. “From time to time, I just don’t know what to think. Every time I come around here, the same thought occurs to me. The people who had this awesome civilization beyond our imagining couldn’t have drunk the blood of other people and made them their slaves. Now, I know it’s not right, but sometimes I think it all must’ve been a mistake—that maybe one day we’re meant to surpass everything that they achieved. And that humans and Nobles are basically the same creature with just small differences, and though one of them advanced a little earlier than the other, someday the other will probably rise to the very same heights, to stand as their equal. D, we’re gonna get there too someday, won’t we? I know it probably won’t be in my lifetime, but maybe in that of my grandchildren or my great-grandchildren . . .”

Su-In looked at D’s profile. She got the impression that something which defied the imagination—at least where this young man was concerned—had just skimmed across his beautiful lips. “Hey,” she called out to him despite herself.

D turned in her direction. Wearing the same expression he always did.

Su-In found herself with nothing more to say.

D quickly started walking again.

But in her heart, Su-In murmured the words she hadn’t been able to speak. D, did you smile just now?

“Su-In,” D called out to her.

Her heart skipped a beat. It wasn’t that she was afraid he’d heard the secret question in her heart. Rather, it was because she realized this was the very first time he’d addressed her by her first name. And she had the feeling that without even being aware of it, she had long since given up all hope of ever hearing him say it.

“Yes?” she shouted back, although what made her do that was a mystery.

“Get behind that tree over on the right. Hurry.”

Driven by his soft voice, Su-In ran off and concealed herself behind the massive bole as directed. Twice as big around as a man could reach, the trunk looked like it could withstand even the claws of a giant dragon.

What was happening? For all her fear, Su-In also felt curiosity and a lust for battle stirring within her. She wasn’t the sort of woman who’d sit around at home expecting her husband to keep her fat and happy. Raising the spear gun, she flicked off the spring-powered safety with an experienced hand.

Though the fog had already begun to clear, in the lower portion of the stone steps alone it seemed to have become thicker than ever, and though the shapes of the wrecked vessels were dimly visible, the sea itself was lost. A mechanical clanking echoed out of the depths of the whiteness. Something was climbing the stone stairs.

In an instant, the woman realized what it was. It’s that thing from the sea. But what are those footsteps? Slowly Su-In drew a breath.

A hazy black tinged the fog, and when it took a certain shape, D drew his longsword.

As if it realized that, the thing’s footsteps ceased.

Several seconds passed.

“Come on,” D said in the direction of the fog.

As if in response to him, the silhouette moved, and the fog gave birth to a bizarre creature.

THE SEA IN THE RUINS