CHAPTER 3

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I

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Because it always arrived so abruptly, even those who eagerly awaited the summer found it hard to believe that it was actually there. As they listened to children who couldn’t wait a moment longer shoving open doors and running outside, the people let the zephyr blow over them, warming them body and soul. At last, they were stepping into the light. But they were ever so cautious, as if it were all no more than a momentary dream they’d awake from the second they tried to step out into it.

However, if they listened closely enough, a melody that rang to the high heavens was coming from the forest, while the aroma of summer grasses and the smell of candy and wine wafted through the air. And finally they knew this season was more than just a dream and let its name rise to their lips. Summer. Only a week of it, but summer nonetheless. The days of feasting and merrymaking were about to begin.

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It was that morning that the sheriff called on D—although it was actually Su-In he wanted.

“The lady of the house is supposed to be on the crime-prevention team for the festival,” said the lawman. “But since Su-In’s not here, there’s not much else we can do. We’ve got no one else to substitute for her, either. Since you’re in her employ, you think you could stand in for her?”

D agreed. Su-In had explained the situation to him—she’d even asked him to go if he could.

At nine o’clock Morning they arrived at the clearing on the edge of town. This was the heart of summertime. Magicians and acrobats were just some of the traveling performers who mingled with the crowd. Mobs of children formed around an assortment of vendors, and young men and women took part in jubilant line dances. But as D walked through the area, all commotion and cries ceased, and the feverish gaze of all crept over the Hunter. No cheers would ever go up at the sight of this young man. Everyone had the wind knocked out of them.

“Come now—step right up!” a lively voice called from the center of a square surrounded by trees on all sides. Wearing a silk hat and a morning coat over silver tights, it was clear at a glance the man was a traveling master of swordplay. A slender, straight blade dangled from his belt.

While warriors made a living renting out their swords and even their lives, this kind of performer only took on amateurs. In terms of ability, they were only about half as good as warriors, engaging in an entertaining pastime with little or no chance of physical harm.

But this man’s weapon wasn’t the sword on his hip. Removing his silk hat with a fluid motion, he thrust one hand into it. When it came out again, he held a pair of throwing knives between each finger, for a total of eight blades. Each was eight inches long including the hilt and only three-quarters of an inch wide. Both edges were dull, and the tips were blunted.

“Four in each hand, eight in all,” the performer declared. “But rest assured, the tips and blades have been rendered harmless. Even if they should hit, they’ll do no more than simply sting a bit. And anyone who can block all eight of my throws, or even dodge them, is guaranteed to receive a shiny gold Pegasus coin!”

That last statement proved highly effective, sending a stir through even the women and children who’d been listening spellbound. The Pegasus coin was the highest denomination in either the northern or southern Frontier. In a village like this, it would be enough for a family of five to live off of for six months.

Someone immediately called out in a breathless voice, “I’ll do it!” Not only was the tone eager, but it brimmed with confidence, too.

There was a burst of applause. Like so many others, D turned to look at the speaker, although there were actually more women regarding the young Hunter than there were people looking at anyone else.

A young man of twenty-one or twenty-two stood across from the swordmaster—or rather, the knife thrower. Judging from the bulging muscles left exposed by his shorts and short-sleeved shirt and the way he carried himself, he seemed to have some experience with the fighting arts.

“Fine. Put your ten demis in the box right there then. I’ll get you set up with a weapon. What do you favor?” the knife thrower asked, taking a half step backward and indicating the items behind him. A leather cylinder there contained everything from longswords, spears, and javelins to brass knuckles and gaff hooks. It looked like the whole lot must’ve weighed at least fifty pounds. Though all of the weapons were polished, the hilts were damaged and the blades were nicked, making it quite clear each had seen a great deal of use.

Dropping his copper coin into the designated box, the young man chose a javelin. The way his hands tightened around it like a pro and his feet settled into an easy stance were something to see.

“All set, are we?” the knife thrower asked.

“You bet!” the young man responded.

“Very well, then.”

Holding his right arm across his chest, the performer made a gentle bow, and as soon as he straightened up again, a flash of silver streaked right to the young man’s chest.

“Oh!” the crowd gasped, and at the very same time, there was a mellifluous ching! as the throwing knife careened off in the sunlight to return to the palm of the thrower’s right hand.

“Well done!” the man in the silk hat cried out, his praise making the young man throw back his shoulders with self-importance. “Let’s go on.”

“You got it!”

Once again the silvery flash flew and was knocked away with the same sound. And again, the knife landed back in its owner’s hand.

“Perfect! Let’s continue.”

“Sure thing.”

The third time went exactly the same. Seeing how the deflected blade went back to the knife thrower’s hand in exactly the same way every time, the spectators had stopped clapping. Everyone there had realized it had nothing to do with the young man’s ability, but was entirely the knife thrower’s doing. Like a puppet and its master.

“Throw it with everything you’ve got,” the young man finally cried. He’d realized what was going on, too. And he didn’t care to play the buffoon any longer.

“I’m sorry you feel that way,” the knife thrower said with a grin. “I’m already doing my very best. But have it your way. I shall see what I can do to accommodate you.”

“Great!” the young man replied. Gritting his teeth, he braced himself.

A flash of silver whirred at his throat. At the dull thud, the young man reeled backward, and three throwing knives fell from his throat to the ground.

Several seconds actually passed before a murmur of surprise rustled through the onlookers. The knives had literally flown faster than the eye could follow. While no one could actually see the knife itself, they’d all thought but a single blade had been thrown. Seeing how several people rushed forward and helped the young man up off his back, it didn’t look like he was wounded, though he seemed to have been dealt quite a hard blow.

“Okay, who’s next?” the knife thrower asked, but there were no takers.

Smiling wryly with the realization that he’d overdone it, he looked around with his elongated face, and then stopped cold on a new target. Directly ahead of him stood D.

“My goodness! Pardon me for saying so, sir, but you seem quite out of place in a village like this. Moreover, on a—”

The knife thrower’s voice petered out. His face went pale. If nothing else, he could at least discern how powerful the man who stood before him was.

“I seem to have used an uncharacteristic bit of power that last time,” the knife thrower continued. “It’ll be quite some time before I’ll have another contender. If you’d like to help me while away the time, you’re welcome to try your hand free of charge.”

No one in the crowd moved. There were no shouts, no applause. Everyone realized that if the handsome young man agreed to participate, this would be more than just a simple diversion to pass the time.

While his thoughts remained a mystery, D stepped forward. Of course, the knife thrower’s invitation was no challenge to battle. And this young man wasn’t the kind to take part in mere games. Yet he still advanced.

“I’m obliged to you for consenting so readily to assist me,” the knife thrower said with a bow. “I suppose you’ll be using your own weapon. If you manage to deflect my knives, I’ll give you the gold coin. Very well, then.”

They were fifteen feet apart. For someone as skilled as the knife thrower, that was essentially no distance at all.

“Have at you!”

D stood there without even drawing his blade. The scene seemed to be taking place in an entirely different season from their all-too-brief summer.

The single flash of silver scorching through the air was in fact four blades. But the spectators only realized that when a prismatic slash flowed out from the man in black’s shoulder in what could only be described as an effortless sweep, and knocked them all to the ground.

Before anyone could even gasp with surprise, D dashed forward. As the pale knife thrower backed away, the remaining four blades in his left hand raced out. People saw a cross-shaped flash of light. The horizontal swipe batted away the throwing knives, while the vertical stroke caught the man as he tried to jump back, splitting him in half from his silk hat down to his jaw.

But the man who’d been instantly killed didn’t fall to the ground. Something else fell instead. A doll in a silk hat and morning coat.

Shadowy figures leapt at D from all sides—the cook who’d been roasting chickens, the candy vendor, men who’d been playing chess by the sidewalk. And while their movements were human enough, their course of action was anything but.

The blades they brought down at the Hunter all met thin air. Before the men could launch a second attack, their torsos were bisected, turning them into tiny dolls that fell on the grass.

The tip of D’s blade dipped ever so slightly—the blades of grass were being crushed to the ground. Only one person D knew had the power to control the gravity in a given area.

“So, we meet again, D!” Shin said, his voice rising with scornful laughter from somewhere in the area. “I’ll have you know the sheriff who called on you was one of my puppets, too. But this time I’m not alone. I take it you’re familiar with Egbert and his ‘kingdom.’”

The tip of D’s sword rose—then fell again. But no matter how much a dhampir’s strength surpassed that of an ordinary man, this was bound to happen when the Hunter was subjected to five times the ordinary force of gravity. One on one, he’d beaten all the warriors’ tricks. But going up against them in tandem would be another matter.

“Egbert’s kingdom covers this whole section of the woods. Why, I suppose it’s nearly a mile across. And everything in it is under his command. What’s more, it’s populated entirely by my puppets. Let’s see you try and get out of this.” Shin stopped there, but after a moment’s pause he continued, saying, “But it seems you were wise to my puppets even before you tangled with the knife thrower. Care to explain why that was?”

D barely managed to hold his sword horizontally. But in a voice that didn’t betray an iota of strain, he said, “I suppose I have Glen to thank for that.”

On the ferry on the way over, Glen had taken one of Shin’s arms. But if that wound had proved the puppet master’s downfall, surely only this young man would’ve been up to the task of noticing it.

The Hunter sensed something surging forward. And it was more than just one person. Several ranks deep when they came together, they advanced on him from all sides. D had probably seen through their guise already. They were the same young people who’d been intent on dancing, mothers and children who’d licked their lips over watermelon, and men who’d been competing at the ring toss game. The people here in the woods—or, according to what Shin said, everyone for more than a half mile in all directions—were all puppets. And unlike D, they were immune to the effects of Egbert’s kingdom.

Steely blades glittering in every hand, the mob surrounded D. Stark flashes of light were coupled with the sound of severed bone, and in no time at all a number of people in the foremost rank vanished.

“Keep going! He’s only flesh and blood! He has to get tired eventually!”

With Shin’s howl as their signal, the bizarre charge of the puppets continued, and then, when they’d been reduced to half their previous number, a voice cried out again.

“This is unbelievable—he’s simply incredible,” said Shin. “He must be under ten Gs out there. There’s no use pressing him any further—you’ll only be throwing your lives away,” he told his minions. “Back! Fall back! We’ll take him out from a distance.”

The crowd backed away. Several people who’d remained to the rear held weapons that looked to be old-fashioned gunpowder rifles. But before they could raise them, much less fire, their heads were flying through the air—where they became doll heads. Faster than the group could retreat, D had advanced and raked his blade through the opposition. The only reason he’d remained rooted until now was to keep himself from being trapped by the chaotic movements of his foes.

“Oh my!” someone cried out in surprise, and there was movement perceptible in the woods off to the Hunter’s right.

Without a moment’s hesitation, without even looking, D hurled a needle of unfinished wood. Glistening briefly in the sunlight, the missile was swallowed by the forest, and then a cry of pain rang out.

The group of villagers that was about descend on D stopped moving.

D looked down at his feet. On the grass before him, countless dolls lay frozen in the same poses they’d held a split second before their transformation. At the same time, D realized he’d been released from the insane bonds of gravity.

“I’m impressed. But then, I should expect no less from the Vampire Hunter D,” the Hunter heard Egbert say. But even with his highly perceptive hearing, D couldn’t tell from where the voice originated. It sounded as if it was coming from both the heavens and the earth.

“Aren’t you coming?” D asked calmly. If he were ever to invite someone to have a cup of tea with him, that was undoubtedly the same tone he’d use. To him, an invitation to tea or a challenge to the death were one in the same.

On careful inspection, the Hunter’s shoulder was torn open and gushing blood, and his chest and back were covered with long, thin gashes. Given that he’d been taking on dozens of opponents at the same time and the gravity had been about ten times as strong as normal, it was something of a miracle he’d gotten off with so few wounds.

“I think I’ll pass,” Egbert replied simply. His tone was refreshed, and he sounded somehow greatly satisfied. “I was against the whole notion of teaming up from the get-go. After I was wounded throwing down with you before, I figured we might not have any choice but to gang up on you,” he remarked. “But sure enough, it just doesn’t set right with me. Next time, it’ll be mano a mano. With King Egbert. See you later.”

As soon as the man finished speaking, D walked off toward where he’d hurled the needle, not even pausing to catch his breath.

Drops of red spattered on the well-trampled grass. There was no longer any sign of the vendors or performers—all of them were now puppets that lay hidden in the grass. Even the fragrant woods had vanished, leaving D surrounded by gnarled beach shrubs. No doubt he’d been tricked into entering Egbert’s “kingdom” while the sheriff was supposedly leading him to the real clearing. But any spell that could meddle with the sense of distance, direction, and time for someone like D was a fearsome power indeed.

Beyond the twisted bushes, a wrinkled old man lay on his back in a depression, his eyes glaring blankly at the heavens. A slender wooden needle ran into his windpipe and poked out through the nape of his neck. This must’ve been Shin’s true form.

Perhaps D decided that if he left the corpse here to be discovered, it was bound to upset the summer festivities. Sword still clasped in his right hand, he bent down and grabbed the old man’s armless shoulder with his left.

There was a thunderous roar to one side of the Hunter. As if blown away by the very sound itself, D’s left hand snapped off at the wrist and flew more than ten feet away.

“Don’t move,” a voice shouted from behind another tree in the direction the roar had come from, but D had already turned.

Armed with a fire dragon rifle—a massive gun with a barrel bigger than a man’s thumb—the figure who’d just appeared was the spitting image of the old man who lay dead on the ground.

“Looks like you fell for it,” said the old man. “Not everything I manipulate necessarily seems to be alive. That right there’s a puppet of a corpse.”

Down at D’s feet, the body of the old man had become a doll with a wooden needle stuck through it.

“To be perfectly honest, I thought it’d be enough just to take out your left hand today,” the old man continued. “See, I heard from Egbert that it was a talking hand that got the better of his kingdom before. But now my greed’s really kicked in. I don’t care if you are the great Vampire Hunter D—at this range, there’s no way you’ll be able to stop a projectile. And if I get you right through the heart, you won’t be getting up again. So unless that’s what you fancy, you’ll answer me. Where’s the bead?”

D was silent. Thanks to his dhampir nature, the bleeding from his shoulder and all his other wounds had long since ceased, but a stream of red twisted like a serpent from where he’d lost his left hand, and he didn’t seem to be doing anything to staunch the flow.

“Don’t move your arm or even turn your head,” the old man—Shin—said, licking his chops. Though he only had one arm to support the massive weapon, its muzzle didn’t waver an inch. “Egbert also told me what happens when you get a taste of blood. You should’ve left when you figured I was dead, but you were stupid enough to show pity for me.” Chuckling, he added, “That’s probably why you’re not smart enough to know what the bead does.”

D’s eyebrow rose. “And do you know what it does?” he asked.

Snorting as if trying to drive away some foul odor, Shin replied, “Someone else knew—an old fart that calls himself a professor or something. And true to his name, he sure did have some information for me. But what kind of fate is it to have to drink your own blood to win in battle? You really must lead a cursed existence! But that’s not how it’ll be for me. Instead of a lowly little half-breed like you, I’m going to be a true Noble. Now, where is the bead?” he asked. The words were bare of any sense of triumph, and rang with a tone of naked, wretched greed.

The steamy air and the aroma that surrounded them shook.

“Over there,” D said, just making a small toss of his head to the ground to his right. “The talking hand has it.”

Shin was speechless for a moment, but then his hideous old face twisted in delight and he nodded, saying, “Oh, I see. What safer hiding place could you ask for? Well, I’ll be taking it then. Don’t move.” Laughing, he added, “On second thought, go ahead and do whatever the hell you like. I have no further use for you!”

Before Shin had even finished speaking, he pulled the trigger. With a sound like a small explosion, a lead slug weighing a sixth of an ounce shot through D’s head. And at that moment, Shin probably knew what his own fate would be. A split second before pulling the trigger, he’d seen something. D’s eyes were giving off a blood light.

While Shin’s finger was desperately pulling the trigger, D was in motion. The gravity of Egbert’s “kingdom” was no more, and he’d become a full-fledged Noble. Shin couldn’t tell what move the Hunter was going to make next. The slug didn’t even rip into the shrubs until after the rifle had been slashed in two by a blow that also carved Shin open from the left shoulder to the right lung and his body had thudded backward.

Out of reflex, D covered his nose and mouth. Shin had called him cursed for having to drink his own blood to win. But even the puppet master couldn’t have imagined that the blood he’d spilled with a shot from his own gun would evaporate in the summer sun, forming a thick aroma that invaded D’s nostrils and filled him with demonic power. Perhaps there was some truth to what Shin had said.

As D set eyes blazing with blood light on the real Shin, the Hunter’s expression shifted ever so slightly. Suddenly, there was a puppet where the old man had been. And when D turned around, his left hand was nowhere to be seen on the ground.

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II

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Perhaps a thousand feet inland from the phantom woods that’d been the stage for D’s deadly combat were the real woods. Not even the roar of the surf could be heard there. In its place, there was the humming and chirping of insects called out by the sultriness when the chill departed the night before like a dream. But their cries ceased unexpectedly, for an old man as thin as a rail had jumped in and roughly trampled their summer shrubs.

On the fallen trunk of a massive tree covered in emerald moss, another figure stood up. Having shed his trademark cloak, Professor Krolock stood there in a somewhat grimy shirt and trousers, both of which looked to be made of burlap. Seeing the one-armed old man who’d raced there, he asked, “Did you get it?” His haggard expression didn’t change for a second.

“Yeah,” the old man—Shin—said with a nod. “I’ve got it right here. Look at this!”

When the professor saw what the old man held, his face twisted in disgust.

Quickly, Shin added, “This is his left hand. The bead’s inside it.”

Anything could happen on the Frontier— nothing at all surprised its inhabitants.

“And just what did you intend to do next?” asked the professor.

At his query, Shin clutched the tattered limb to his chest, trembling. Try as he might, he simply couldn’t contain his delight.

“That should be pretty obvious,” the puppet master replied. “I’m gonna get out of town as fast as I can. I may have gotten the bead, but he’s still alive. He’s a scary one, and I have to count myself lucky to have the thing at all. The next time he sees me, I’m as good as dead. Those blood-red eyes of his—he didn’t even see the real me, but it still felt like he was looking right down into the marrow of my bones.” Chuckling, he added, “Of course, the next time we meet, I’ll be so much better than him he won’t be fit to lick my boots.”

As the professor indifferently watched the grotesque tableau of Shin violently shaking the severed hand, he asked, “Have you actually verified that the bead is in there?”

The puppet master’s countenance had been a picture of unwavering joy, but a sudden gust of agitation blew into his features. “No. But I—”

“Then your joy may prove somewhat premature.”

“Impossible!” Shin shouted, holding the well-formed limb up to his eyes.

“You and I could return to the Capital, but if that hand doesn’t hold the bead, it’ll be utterly worthless to us. Why don’t you check and make certain?”

The professor’s words proved just persuasive enough to goad Shin into action. Waving the severed limb he held, the old man said to it, “Okay, answer me. Are you dead already, or do you still live?”

Although Shin—who’d reached the peak of his anger—didn’t notice it, Professor Krolock surely looked to the heavens for deliverance.

All the chirping of the insects had died out. But what followed, almost like an apology, was a burst of indescribable laughter.

Realizing it was the hand that’d laughed, the astonished Shin flipped it over. He’d been looking at the back of it. Before his riveted eyes, the surface of the palm rippled, and something rose in it. A face. It had eyes. And a nose, too. It was even equipped with a mouth. This human visage clearly possessed a will of its own, yet its features were disturbing—as if it lacked what was most essential to a human being.

Chortling, the hand said, “Stop your fretting. I’m alive. And I’ve been that way for quite some time. I’ve lived a hundred times longer than you, I bet.”

“Then I should be able to get right to the point,” Shin said, his tone heavy with coercion and the blackest confidence. There was no trace at all of his earlier distress. “You’re supposed to have a bead in your belly,” he continued. “How about it?”

“Now that you mention it, I do remember swallowing something like that a good long time ago.” With another chortle, it added, “What was it—about three thousand years ago?”

“Are you trying to mock me?!” Shin cried. Lowering his head to his chest, he thrust the point of a dagger before the tiny eyes. The weapon had been hidden in his chest pocket, and he’d drawn it with his teeth. “I’d like to see you try and hide your eyes and mouth again,” he snarled. “Let’s see if you can pull them in so far I can’t gouge them right out of you.”

“Why not carve the bead out of it while you’re at it?” the professor suggested.

“Good idea!”

“Hold it! Just give me a second,” the weird face said in a desperate effort to stop him. “I’m not sure exactly which of these things you want, but I’ll try and find it now. Let me see . . .”

And then there was suddenly a distinct bulge in one of its cheeks.

“How about this?” the hand asked in a calm tone.

And then the impossible happened—

Spat from its mouth with an impressive whir, the dull silver bead shot right into Shin’s eye before he could ever dodge it. Reeling backward as he let out a beastly howl, he intended to press his own hand to his eye, but instead wound up pressing the other hand to it. Prying the severed hand free again, he threw it away. But there was no bead left in the wound. Where his eye had been there was nothing but a bloody opening.

A burst of laughter echoed up from the ground. The severed hand was standing upright. Both eyes were open wide, and half of the bead jutted from its tiny mouth. How it could laugh with its mouth full was anyone’s guess.

“Wait!” the professor screamed as he readied to pounce on the limb. The hand made no attempt to escape, but rather let the old artist easily get a firm grip on it with both of his own withered hands.

“You may have me,” the hand laughed, “but that won’t do you much good. At least, it won’t help you get this!”

Though it was unclear exactly how it continued to talk while doing this, the hand spit the bead from its mouth. Limning a silvery arc, it flew toward the sea.

While the professor was distracted, a sharp pain shot through his hand, and he then shook loose the weird severed hand. It was only after diving into the bushes to search for the bead and coming out again empty-handed that he realized he’d been bitten. Seeing the tiny teeth marks around the base of his right thumb, the professor clucked his tongue disdainfully.

As a hue of hatred rapidly spread in Professor Krolock’s eyes, he looked down at Shin, who was still writhing on the ground. “Indeed, it does seem your joy was a bit premature.” As the professor spoke, he drew a knife from his belt and plunged it into Shin’s neck up to the hilt.

“You son of a bitch . . . ,” the old man said in a tone so mournful most would’ve preferred to cover their ears. He was looking up at the professor. Gouts of blood spilled from his mouth, yet still he spoke. “You idiot . . . You’ve still got my poison spider . . . on the back of your neck . . . I’ll take you to hell with me!”

“You mean this thing?” asked the professor. Pulling the poison spider from the breast pocket of his coat, he waved it before Shin’s eyes. “I couldn’t see it myself, but I could catch a glimpse of it with something else. While you weren’t around, I asked someone at the inn to set up a pair of mirrors for me. First I got one to reflect the nape of my neck, and then I held the other up in front of my face to reflect the first. After that, it was simply a matter of drawing a picture.”

His energy apparently drained, Shin fell to the ground with a frightful rictus, while behind him a spider that’d become a small piece of rubber was discarded by the professor, who turned toward the sea with a ghastly expression hitherto unseen.

“I’ll find you,” Professor Krolock declared. “I’ll do whatever it takes, but I shall find you. O little treasure, you alone can unlock the mystery of human and Noble blood. And you will be mine!” And then, pressing down on one hand all the while, he began to walk once again toward where the bead had disappeared.

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At the top of a cliff, the roar of the sea could be heard in the distance. If you turned off the Nobles’ road onto the street leading into the village, this was the spot where the road ran quite close to the sea. Looking down from the brink of black rock, you’d be greeted by the fierce spray from waves crashing on the wild tangle of boulders below, and a school of monstrous fish a foot to a foot and a half in length could been seen through the water, massing with teeth bared as if waiting for some suicidal soul. The sight was enough to give some a strange impulse to suddenly throw themselves over the edge.

While the monstrous fish were carnivorous, they didn’t always congregate below the cliff. Their behavior was a throwback to ancient times, when the Nobility had ruled the whole area and had thrown humans off the cliff either as an example to those who would defy them or merely for sport. The number thus dispatched had been so great and the practice had continued so long that it had become a sort of conditioned response in the fish. Even now, nearly ten centuries later, they would rise from the depths of the sea as if guided by instinct, swimming in circles and snapping their jagged teeth to beg for food whenever they sensed humans up on the cliff.

There were two people up there that might provide an afternoon snack. One was a she-beast dripping with allure, the other a statuesque seeker of knowledge—Samon and Glen. Probably they themselves didn’t know whether it was mutual attraction or loathing that united them, yet their strange relationship continued.

At present, Samon’s eyes sparkled with a dark enthusiasm, while the horrid shadows of defeat hung on Glen’s face. Just a day earlier he’d challenged D, only to be defeated. Armed with the closely guarded “Lorelei” technique, he’d dealt a serious wound to his opponent, and he’d been fortunate enough to receive assistance from an unexpected intruder. But Glen knew better than anyone that without that aid, the blow he caught in return from D’s blade would’ve been fatal, and his body burned with that knowledge and a deplorable sense of failure. His recognition of this fact gave way to an undirected rage that now escalated to the point where he wanted to shred the very bandages wrapped around his right shoulder and cut off his useless arm.

I just can’t rise to that level, he told himself.

Sooner or later, a seeker of knowledge sees the end of the road—and that very phrase described the one fate he never wanted to find there.

As anger and despair tumbled across the swordsman’s handsome face like colors in a kaleidoscope, Samon stared at him, her eyes brimming with an emotion that was neither fully contempt nor pity. She’d told Glen that it looked like her compatriots were going to try something first, prompting his visit to D. Glen had come out of the resulting duel less than triumphant. Mindful of the eyes of the villagers, she’d taken the injured man to the ruined temple and personally treated his wounds. This was the same hateful man who’d saved her from the professor’s spell, taken her against her will, and continually belittled her. Therefore, when he’d challenged D at her insistence and he’d been left defeated, Samon had chuckled cruelly in her heart of hearts. The reason she’d patched him up was because, as long as he still lived, she could get him to rashly challenge the Hunter once more and make it that much easier for her compatriots to obtain the bead. And yet, as the sorceress stood on the cliffs gazing at the young swordsman, the same sort of pathos one might glimpse in someone looking at her beloved seemed to swirl in her eyes.

“Are you going to quit now?” Samon asked in a derisive tone. “That would be for the best,” she added. “Your opponent is Vampire Hunter D—a swordsman unrivaled in the entire Frontier. That’s not a level of skill a mere seeker of knowledge can hope to attain. Throw away your foolish pride and leave town without further delay. And just forget any of this ever happened.”

There was no way to describe her remarks save harsh and contemptuous, but it wasn’t clear whether or not Glen even heard them as he looked out over the North Sea in silence, his sword in his right hand.

“I can’t win, can I?” he said flatly, letting his words ride on the wind that blew by. “You’re right—I certainly can’t beat him. A little grub wriggling around on the ground can train all it likes, but it’ll still never measure up to a greater dragon. But there is a way. I’m sure of it. There’s a way for me to bring Vampire Hunter D to his knees.”

Samon squinted her eyes—a sudden gale had struck her. When she opened them fully again, Glen was facing her.

He’s gone mad, thought Samon. That was the only conclusion his expression allowed her to draw.

“There certainly is. Just one,” the seeker of knowledge shouted, his whole body trembling. “When you went to get me some dinner, you also brought back news you’d heard. For once, I have to believe there is a God. Ah,” he sighed, “to think that I was defeated, standing there on the brink of hopelessness when my savior should appear in such a form—”

All hint of color drained from Samon’s expression. This fierce sorceress would leave the faces of even hardened combatants pale, but she backed away as her body filled with a mind-numbing primal fear.

“You can’t be serious,” she said, her lips trembling as she spat the words. “You wouldn’t actually do that . . .”

“Yes, I’ll become a Noble,” the man declared resolutely, his eyes colored by a killing lust. “Although technically, I’d be one of their servants if a Noble bit me. Yes, little more than a fiend following the commands of the one who bit him, wandering the earth seeking the lifeblood of the same human race to which he once belonged. But none of that matters to me. Not if that’s what it takes to surpass Vampire Hunter D.” Laughing, he added, “Come to think of it, we could never ask for a clearer motive to do battle. A Hunter against a servant of the Nobility.”

Samon was left stunned, literally rooted by his surpassing vindictiveness, and as Glen came before her, he reached out with his wounded right arm and grabbed her pale throat like an eagle clutching its prey. The woman tried to twist away, but he brought his face up to her light pink lips and said, “Starting this evening, I’ll be going out every night. Looking for him, of course. You’re going to ask around the village and try to find someplace he’s likely to appear. We’ll both be looking for him.”

“But that’s simply—Do you think I’d do that? Do you think I could?” Samon asked, her voice trembling. She was terrified by the tenacity of a man who could seriously order her to do such things. A blade of ice rode down her spine. It was actually quite sensual. Samon could feel her crotch growing damp.

“Do you have a problem with that?” Glen asked her. “If so, I’ll throw you off this cliff right here and now. If you can’t do anything but dress my wounds and roll in my bed, then the only thing you’ll be good for is filling the bellies of the fish that gather down there.”

Hand still locked on the woman’s pale throat, Glen pulled her close. Samon didn’t fight him. To the contrary, the temptress wrapped both hands around Glen’s head and put her lips to his.

A long time passed.

As the string of saliva between them trembled with Samon’s ragged breath, she stared at the man and practically panted, “I’ll be glad to follow your commands. Up until the very day the Noble sinks his fangs into your throat,” she laughed.

The woman’s body was writhing with passion, but Glen knocked her down with a rough shove.

Letting the most lascivious of smiles rise to her lips, Samon said, “Well, I’ll be going now. I have to meet with my colleagues and decide what our next move in this battle will be.” Giggling, she added, “But I’ll be back in your bed again tonight.”

Once Samon had walked off, Glen turned to face the sea alone. And just after he did, the most astounding remark came from behind him.

“You just don’t die, do you, pest?”

When Glen turned in a completely unhurried fashion, he was confronted by a muscle-bound giant standing fifteen feet away.

“My name is Egbert. I suppose Samon’s told you about me.”

As the man poked the iron staff in his direction, Glen smirked and said, “You’ve been there behind the rocks for some time now, haven’t you? Yes, I have indeed heard your name. So, what’s your business with me?”

“I want you out of town right now. Although, from what I just heard, I don’t think you’re likely to comply. So I’ll have to feed you to the Nobles’ fish the same way you were about to give them Samon.”

Egbert’s staff sank, and the tip of it touched the cliff, where it slowly began to etch a thick line in the stone. Glen didn’t know yet what this action signified.

The tip of the cliff where Glen was standing was roughly twenty feet wide. After he’d completed drawing a line across the entire width, Egbert smiled and said, “Where you’re standing—from this line on—is my kingdom. And now I’m about to smite an invader. I’ll smite you in the name of King Egbert!”

Glancing at the iron staff the giant had braced for action once again, Glen sneered, “You think you’re good enough to kill me? Fine. But I can’t believe there’s a warrior stupid enough to throw his life away because he’s lost in the charms of some worthless slut. I don’t have the use of my good arm,” he added, “but I should still have everything I need to show you just how much better I really am. Come on.”

Egbert’s immutable, dignified countenance was ablaze with rage. After joining forces with Shin to attack D and failing miserably, he hadn’t returned to the group’s hideout, but had walked around the village instead. Gyohki and Twin had their own roles to see to, but Samon hadn’t been around since the previous night. As Egbert had convinced himself there was no point in heading back yet, the real purpose of his wandering had been to find the woman.

Of the five enforcers, Egbert seemed to have the most human blood coursing through his veins. As a result, he’d been drawn to Samon, whose nature was diametrically opposed to his own. Perhaps he hadn’t expressed those feelings to her because he’d considered how many dissimilar points there were between Samon and himself, but when Egbert learned of Glen’s existence from Shin—who’d followed the woman that first night she left their hiding place—his body burned with a terrible jealousy. Since Samon’s compatriots understood that she had to throw herself at Glen in order to manipulate him, the giant hadn’t voiced his personal opposition to the arrangement, but he swore to himself he would eventually settle matters with the swordsman. Finding just whom he sought there with Samon on the cliffs at the edge of town had left him almost demented with joy. And now that Shin had been slain and Samon had left, he was free to settle matters with this rival suitor completely unfettered.

“Hyah!” Egbert cried in a voice as sharp as tearing silk as he braced his lower half for battle, and then kicked off the ground.

Throwing a look of pity and contempt at the giant form as it made a pointlessly high leap into the air, Glen was then astonished as he tried to make a thrust with the sword in his left hand. His blade seemed to weigh five times as much, and it moved with a proportional sluggishness. When he barely parried the few dozen pounds of iron bar swinging down at him, it was not due to any miracle, but rather to sheer dexterity.

His sword shattered.

“Would you look at that,” Egbert cried.

Dodging a horizontal swipe of the staff, Glen was forced back to the tip of the cliff. While his opponent’s speed hadn’t changed at all, the swordsman’s was only a fifth of what it usually was. The instant Glen realized how truly dire the situation was, a powerful blow landed on his torso, sending him flying.

There was no rocky terrain below him. Without a sound, Glen the “seeker of knowledge” fell headfirst from a cliff nearly one hundred fifty feet high into the choppy sea full of monstrous fish.

.

III

.

Tousled by the cool breeze, Su-In’s hair fell across her face, forcing her to repeatedly brush it out of the way with her fingers. The chill borne on the wind was due to the chunks of ice offshore. The weather controller’s unfathomable logic also held sway out there, but when summer called on the village, it didn’t extend out to the far reaches of the ocean. Cold air brought by the north wind grew tepid out over the sea, becoming a cool breeze that blew through the coastal town, normally unheard-of in summer. It was their summer wind.

Su-In was standing on a promontory. It was early afternoon—about the same time Egbert and Glen were engaged in their deadly conflict. The bluish green of the sea before her hurt her eyes. Although partway out it should’ve changed to a freezing ash gray, the sea that was visible from here was the color of summer, as if it’d been emblazoned with the blue of the sky and the green of the grass.

Pale ice floated out beyond the invisible line, while a little shy of it—about three-quarters of a mile from shore—a number of mid-sized power boats ripped the waves into white bits as they chased schools of fish. Based on their position, she thought they might be after rumble tuna.

She was at a spot about a twenty-minute walk from her hideout. It was called “Cape Nobility.” She’d come here countless times as a child, and the initials she’d left remained scratched on the rocks and carved in the trunks of nearby trees.

As she’d looked out at the sea back then, she’d thought, I’m going to live here! But things were different now. She wondered instead, Can I really live here?

Fatigue rode heavily on her shoulders. Up till now, she’d had a way to deal with that. But over the last few days, Su-In had come to feel a strange sense of loss over how extremely important Wu-Lin and Grampa Han had been to her. She’d thought she had the confidence to live—the confidence to live entirely on her own, that is. But then her younger sister and grandfather had been taken from her. Su-In realized she wanted to go somewhere far away once the summer was over. She didn’t think she could bear the next winter.

A certain face drifted into Su-In’s mind, making her tremble in the warm air. The man she’d seen in the tunnel—he’d been in her dream last night, too. But she could swear she’d never seen his face before. And yet, something ineffably heavy and dark was closing around her heart.

Who was he? That was the biggest mystery, although she could accept that much. But another question welled up in her, and it brought terror with it: What is he to me?

Shaking her head, Su-In tried to call to mind a different face—the face of a young man who was far more handsome; colder, and harder. Though he hadn’t told her a single thing about himself, she simply knew he’d traveled a path rougher and more horrid than anything she could ever imagine. And the mere thought of this lifted the weight off Su-In’s chest and gave her a serene feeling.

However, the Hunter was bound to leave someday. That, above all else, was a certainty. Perhaps the whole reason she had him looking after the bead was because she didn’t want him to leave. The truth of the matter was that Su-In was terribly afraid of the way her heart was behaving.

Her eyes were filled with an indistinct view of the sky and the sea, but they suddenly focused on a single point. One of the power boats towing nets out by the ice floes had suddenly listed to one side. And what the woman saw next left her speechless.

In the time it took her to unconsciously blink two or three times, the bow of the vessel was raised high in the air, the men on board were thrown into the dark water, and then the boat slid down into the sea so effortlessly it was unbelievable.

Noticing what was happening, one of the vessels accompanying the ill-fated boat cut free its own nets and swung about.

Su-In gasped.

In the sea off the ship’s starboard fore, something black suddenly reached from the water. At this distance, it merely looked like a thin line, but Su-In pictured it as a crab’s claw.

The captain of the boat that was racing to the rescue noticed it, too. He cut the wheel hard. The thing was less than six feet away. But the desperate life-or-death curve of his course only served to give whatever lurked in the sea the perfect angle to attack.

Su-In saw the limb that protruded from the sea pierce the bow of the boat. The vessel’s own speed just served to make the claw seem all the more trenchant as it ripped its way down the hull like scissors slitting paper, and when the gash had gone halfway down the length of the boat, both the hull and its gaping wound sank into the sea. It took less than two seconds for the boat to list to the port side.

Having noticed the danger in the sea, another vessel began to flee. But before it’d gone thirty feet from the scene of the disaster, something happened. Although it didn’t list and its speed didn’t decrease at all, the distance between the boat’s gunwales and the surface of the water was rapidly dwindling. As his vessel became a veritable submarine and sank beneath the waves, the captain threw himself into the water.

Unable to determine what was going on, another group of boats some way off started closing on the scene while Su-In shouted at them to stop, but they hauled the panting men from the freezing water and sped back toward the harbor without anything else transpiring. Nothing, that is, except for a certain pronouncement.

Although it didn’t reach Su-In’s ears, a heavy, dull voice that might well have issued from the king of all water demons echoed from the bottom of the sea, saying, “Know that any who venture out to fish shall meet the very same fate. The sea is now your enemy. If the thought of that fills you with dread, then do as I say. There is a girl in your village by the name of Su-In—you must take the bead she has and cast it into the sea any time within the next three days. Once you’ve done so, I shall once again return this sea to you.”

The rescue boats returned to the village at full speed, and while the survivors were brought to the hospital, several other people hurried off to the mayor as quickly as possible to give him the urgent news. Insisting that the summer festival mustn’t be disrupted, the mayor ordered the sheriff and members of the town council to assemble immediately for a committee meeting. The messenger sent to Su-In’s house found D there, and when the young man appeared in a room in the town office like a black gale, the gloomy countenances were replaced with intermittent looks of rapture and horror.

Although D leaned back silently against one wall while the mayor first explained the current situation, then demanded some clarification about the bead and that it be turned over immediately, once the other man had finished speaking, the young man told them in an unhurried tone, “I don’t have the bead.”

“What in the—?!” the mayor said, the words dying in his mouth.

Everyone present exchanged glances. But no one was about to take D to task. They felt as if the threat from the deep suddenly stood right before their eyes.

“We have three days, don’t we?” D said in the same steely tone as always. “During that time, either the bead has to be found or whatever’s out in the sea has to be destroyed. That’ll be fine with you, won’t it?”

Once again the council members looked at each other, but all they could do was nod their agreement.

“Just what the blazes is that bead anyway?” the mayor said in a tone that made it clear this was the one question that couldn’t go unasked.

“Even I don’t know,” D replied.

“Why did Su-In have it?”

“I don’t know.”

“What was that creature in the water?”

“I don’t know.”

“Where is Su-In?” one of the council members asked sharply.

“She said she had some shopping to do and was headed off to the village of Kraus. I don’t know when she’ll be back.”

Kraus was the name of the port town where the ferry had landed.

“And another thing,” the council member said doggedly. “As soon as you walked in here, it felt like all the air in the room had frozen. You’re going to tell us just exactly what you are.”

“You’ve got some nerve, saying that,” Dwight interjected. As leader of the Youth Brigade, he was also part of the town council. “All I know is, he’s a traveling bodyguard. Someday he’ll be leaving our village. And isn’t it the law of the Frontier that you never ask travelers about their past or where they’re going?”

“This is hardly the time to be bringing that up, I think,” the council member said to Dwight, thinking he’d found the perfect angle for his attack. “His answer to every single question boils down to ‘I don’t know.’ Yet he has the gall to say all we have to do is defeat our enemy, like it’ll be no problem. I’d sure like to hear just how we’re supposed to do that. And even supposing the thing in the sea is taken care of, what guarantee do we have that a second or third threat won’t surface as long as the bead and those connected to it remain in town? I’m worried about what’ll happen next. Fine—we’ll let him take care of the situation. But even if he squares everything away nice and neatly, I want you to remember that the matter of whether or not Su-In will be allowed to stay in the village will hinge on what kind of explanation we get when all is said and done.”

“What do you mean, you heartless old pig?!” Dwight shouted, rising indignantly. “You lousy bastard! You think you have the right to say that about Su-In, or anyone in her family?! When that wild son of yours got lost out in the middle of a blizzard and wandered off into the Nobles’ resort, who was it that nearly froze to death out there finding him? Was it you? Was it any of you vultures sitting here around the table? Hell no, it was Su-In and Wu-Lin! And I hate to say it, but the last time you fixed up the house you still live in, just who was it that loaned you the funds you needed to renovate? Sorry, but was it the mayor? Was it the circuit bank? No, it was Su-In’s grandfather!”

The council member averted his now-pale face. Logically speaking, what the man had said a moment earlier made sense. However, in a village like this where, aside from their one week of summer, they basically lived on sticks and twigs and slept in snowdrifts, a sense of obligation in interpersonal relationships had to take priority over pure rationality. The harshness of life on the Frontier wouldn’t allow them to live any other way. If there was one thing people here detested more than a thief or a murderer, it was an ingrate.

“Yeah, but Dwight,” another council member interjected, “there’s some truth to what Tolso’s saying. As long as we’ve got access to the sea, we can make a living. But even if everything gets taken care of now, what are we supposed to do if more of these strange characters come and pull the same thing a second or third time? I’m afraid that, in the end, Su-In’s going to have to bear the responsibility for this. Bringing something as dangerous as a Noble into our one week of summer is a pretty serious offense.”

“You bastard! Are you trying to tell me that this is the fault of someone living in the same village as the rest of us or something?” Dwight said, stepping away from his chair. His whole body shook with rage. “Great! That’s just perfect!” the Youth Brigade representative shouted, waving his fist in front of the gloomy council member’s face. “Well then, I’ll bear the burden for my friend’s crime. I take it you won’t have any complaints if I get rid of that monster for you!”

“Now, that’s not what we were saying at all!”

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear any more of your excuses!”

Dwight was just about to pounce on the other man when an arm in black stretched out in front of his chest. For a second, the expression the young fisherman wore made it look like he’d just been plunged into the heart of winter, but the man in black didn’t even glance at him. Instead, he turned to the others, who were all swallowing hard.

“You mentioned the Nobility, didn’t you?” D said like a beautiful shadow. “I heard it came from the sea. If I take care of this threat from the deep as well as the Noble, you’re not to do anything else about Su-In or the bead. You needn’t worry about a thing.”

A buzz that fell shy of actual words filled the room. While the statement sounded preposterous, at the same time, everyone there sensed that this dashing young man might actually be able to make good on it.

“And how do you propose we destroy a Noble—particularly one that comes from the sea like no Noble should be able to do?” asked the sheriff. Fear and expectation intertwined in his voice.

“I’m a Vampire Hunter.”

Now everyone’s eyes went wide.

The mayor immediately said, “Well, now—in one sense, that’s more than we could’ve ever hoped for. But I don’t care how good a Vampire Hunter you are, what we’re up against here is no ordinary Noble, you know!”

“I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” a dignified voice jeered through the open window. “He’s a dhampir—so he’s part Noble himself!”

Everyone‘s skin rippled with goose bumps. Even Dwight bugged his eyes, and he couldn’t say a word.

Though D tossed his gaze toward the garden, the voice was heard no more, and all signs of anyone being out there had also vanished. The Hunter then quickly turned and told the group, “That’s right.” In an indifferent tone he stated, “All I ask is that you stay out of my way for three days,” then exited with silent footsteps.

Everyone in the conference room was in a state of shock, and they slumped back in their chairs as if they’d lost consciousness. But before long, Dwight groaned in a troubled tone, “Oh, Su-In—what’ve you gotten yourself into?”

.

Shortly before D exited the meeting, the professor was leaving the vicinity of the town office at a rapid pace, walking down a narrow path that fed into the main street of the village as he said, “I believe that should suffice to restrict D’s movements. All that remains is to locate the bead as swiftly as possible, but I don’t know where it’s gone—perhaps I should go back and scour that spot again?” he mused.

While searching for the bead, Professor Krolock had seen D hurrying toward the town office, so he’d followed the Hunter at a safe distance and reaped an unexpected bonus in the process. Though his cheeks looked ready to collapse from the sheer force of his grin, the professor did nothing to repress it as he hastened off toward the woods, where a waltz was playing.

SURREAL BATTLES IN THE ICY SEA