Chapter Seven :: Grasping at Strings

I may give up on this story soon. I feel like I'm loosing the point of it, and it's just running wherever. Let me know what you think. Also, I'm not making it look all neat and tidy, because well... I'm tired. Thirdly, Theo's speach is supposed to be italicized but I only just now realized it's not pasting that way into blogger. So sorry about that.
~C

Chapter Seven: Grasping at Strings
“I don't want to kill you...” I stood over the man, fangs extended, fingers bloodied, bits of flesh under the nails. “Please, don't make me kill you.” The man clutched at my skirt, neck bared, blood pulsing. “Drink, child, drink.” He commanded me, and his dark eyes drew me downward. I tried to pull away, knowing that one sip of his blood would make me go mad. I would kill him, and everyone else. Looking beyond him, I saw the village, my village. My family stood at the edge, fear in their eyes. The other villagers were behind them, brandishing torches and sticks.
“They don't love you, not like I do.” The man reached up and with one hand ripped into his own throat. I caught the glint of gold before the scent of his blood overcame me, and then I was on him, sucking him dry. It seemed that he died laughing.
I turned my head, saw my mother, reaching out to me, hoping to save me. There was no way to save me. I laughed and walked toward her. I would be full tonight...
*
It was the tugging at my hair, the small fingers prodding at my eyelids and the incessant chattering the awoke me. My eyes flew open to find Theo flitting about me, concern written on his face.
Not good, not good at all..no more nightmares. He settled onto a hand that I held out to him, and I could feel him shiver. He seemed more afraid than I was.
“It's alright, Theo, it was just another dream, you know we have them all the time.” I spoke out loud, hoping the sound of my voice would comfort him. In the month since I'd met Theo, I'd begun to think of him as an extension of myself. I knew that he could feel what I felt and see what I was seeing, so it hadn't shocked me when I discovered that he could read my dreams.
No, bad man, bad dreams... He flitted to the window, looking out and the curtains rustled around him. I got out of bed and followed him. The moon was just rising and the sky was darkening, everything was calm and peaceful, only the forest sounds and soft whispers from the direction of the Bathhouse disrupted the silence. I pulled the curtains the rest of the way open.
Look, Theo, it's time to get up. Night is falling, everything is fine. I set him on my shoulder in his usual spot and turned back to the room. Anyway, I'm hungry.
He would not be swayed and giving me a look of mixed concern and scorn he flitted through the keyhole on the door and was gone. I shrugged, sprites would be sprites. I opened my wardrobe, looking through the gowns and touching the fine fabrics. They still amazed me, the variety and the colors. I inhaled deeply and the scent of lavender filled my nose. Serene insisted that everything be aired with sachets of lavender, she said it brought good spirits.
I pulled out a light, sun-colored dress, I turned to close the door to the wardrobe and something caught my eye. It glittered in the darkest corner, tucked behind the skirt of a midnight blue ball gown. I reached out and my hand grasped what felt like a ball of yarn. Before I could react, I felt a tug deep in my stomach and my vision blurred.
When I opened my eyes I was in a large stone room, there were people all around me, dark skinned, like the Lady Anu. There was a dais at the end of the room and on it sat a number of people in rich clothes. They all wore gold circlets on their heads atop luxurious black hair that fell streaming down their backs. All except one. He wore a crown, gold and encrusted in rubies. His robe was a deep blue, worn over crimson breeches that looked to be silk. His eyelids were painted with gold and each had a small ruby stuck in the middle, so that when he closed his eyes one felt as though one were looking into the eyes of an effigy. There was a golden sash about his waist that secured a long broad sword and the slippers on his feet glittered with even more gems. He sat in a high backed chair and I noticed that all of the other chairs on the dais sat a good few inches lower.
There were two other kinds of people in the room. Most of them wore loin cloths, hair cut down to the very scalp, and golden bracelets that anchored them to one another. They all had identical marks on their necks, deep scratches, crusted with blood.
“They must be slaves.” I thought to myself.
The other group appeared to be guards. They wore brown tunics over full-legged pants, with sashes of maroon. They were pulling the slaves into rows, the ones whose necks seemed to be most healed were put at the front and the others toward the back.
I was standing in the center of the room. I started- surely they would notice me and punish me for my intrusion. But no one saw me. One guard walked toward me, but veered away. I walked quietly toward the dais, and still no one seemed to see me.
The guards began walking along the lines of slaves. They carried great bowls in their hands and at each slave they stopped, opening the wound in the neck with small golden-hilted knives. They let blood fill the bowls. I gasped as one by one, the slaves fell to the ground. Then, an old woman entered the room carrying a bowl herself, but the smell of cinnamon came strongly from it. To each slave she went, applying a poultice of some kind to the wounds. Their eyes fluttered and they rose to a sitting position, the blood running from their necks congealing immediately. They were gaunt and pale, but alive.
This continued all the way through the hall, until ten deep bowls were filled with blood. They were then brought to the dais. The man with the crown was given one of the large bowls. The other nine were divided amongst his peers. The guards marched back down the steps and with harsh whips drove the slaves out of the hall.
I stood, confused. Was this another society like the one Serene has created? Were the people on the dais blood-drinkers like we were? I eyed them closely. Their teeth did not extend as they drank, the color of their skin did not change. So they weren't like us, but what were they?
Suddenly, the man with the crown began to laugh, he wiped his mouth and looked straight at me, and then I recognized him. He was the man from my dream! He held out his hand to me and rose, advancing like a great cat toward its prey.
Will you share your gifts with me now, little one? His voice was a soft whisper inside my head, but it pounded against the sides of my skull with surprising force. I turned to run, but there was nowhere to go, the room was caving in on me. Then, everything went black.
*
I awoke to find Cerunnos leaning over me. Theo and Medina were fluttering about him, intent expressions on their faces. I could feel them pushing energy and light into me. Serene stood in the corner, a worried look on her face. I turned to my right to find Marguerite sitting next to me on the bed. She bent, pressing her neck against my lips. I caught the sent of jasmine before my eyes fluttered closed.
“Drink... then rest.” She pulled me into an embrace and all was still.

(c) CS