The Road to Magic (Book 1 of the Way of the Demon Series) (33 page)

***

When he opened the door, Oleg was flabbergasted. In the doorway stood a naked girl with a sword in her hands. For a split second, he froze. That proved to be a mistake which almost cost him his life. With a loud hiss, the she-vampire hacked at him with her sword. Oleg was saved by the semblance he had cast over himself. In his demon form he was considerably taller than he was as a human, and the blow which was designed to cut off his head landed in his chest, where his scales were particularly thick and sturdy. The she-vampire’s blade turned out to be anything but a simple one and the blow was dealt with unfeminine force. It threw him back and two drops of dense, sticky blood appeared from the stab in his chest. The black sword was able to penetrate scales which had withstood even a direct hit by an arbalest bolt at close range!

The wound turned out to be light, more of a scratch than a real wound, and Oleg was able to defend himself. But that was all he was able to do. The whirlwind of blows raining down on him didn’t give him even the slightest chance to counterattack. Oleg had won his previous battles mainly because of the strength and swiftness of a demon, but the Supreme Vampire was no less a match for him in either strength or swiftness, and considerably outstripped him in swordsmanship. The none-too-great fencing skills which Oleg had obtained at the Tolkien Fanatic gatherings were barely enough to block the strongest and most dangerous blows as he constantly retreated. The brunt of the others was taken by his natural protection, the blessed armour of a demon, saving his life for the umpteenth time. But it was precisely now that its strength turned out to be insufficient. The she-vampire’s blows, albeit with great difficulty, did penetrate Oleg’s scales, and his shoulders and torso were covered in a great number of scratches. The wounds were not deep but had Oleg been in human form, he would long since have lost the ability to fight, weakened from loss of blood. Happily, it was a much thicker and more viscose liquid which flowed through his demon veins and it somehow did not abandon its natural habitat so easily; it was exactly this which gave him the ability to continue the battle.

Despite the extremely complicated situation, Oleg did not retreat helter-skelter, but, keeping to the initial plan, kept leading the she-vampire – who was distracted by the battle – towards the panels Outpost had shown him. The thought flashed through his mind that he was most fortunate to have met this spirit. Without his help, Oleg wouldn’t have stood any chance whatsoever of victory. The she-vampire gracefully ducked the fireballs he threw at her, her black sword slashed his hastily-erected fire shield to pieces, and he simply didn’t have time for any other more complicated spells. In short, by the time the duelling couple passed between the panels pointed out by the warden-spirit, Oleg’s situation was most pitiful. However, as soon as the she-vampire had taken a step into the small unremarkable section of flooring between the two wall panels covered with flowery mosaics concealing the trap, everything changed, as if by magic.

It was
precisely
by magic! The ancient charms of the founders of the Black Tower who had stuffed it with various booby traps swung into action and the she-vampire’s movements began to decelerate. Soon she was completely unable to move. She still made an attempt at transformation, her body shuddered, losing its outline, and she tried to melt into mist and seep out, but the time bonds held her firm, and the she-vampire once again created her body, glaring at Oleg with horror and hatred.

He walked closer and looked for a while at the beautiful girl paralyzed by the effects of the ancient charm. He really didn’t like either of the two alternatives facing him – enslave or kill – but he could see no other possibilities. This graceful figure was too dangerous an adversary and should she manage to break free… The deep cuts covering his body in just a few minutes of the short-lived, fierce battle were a blatant hint at the sad fate which would await him in that case.

Oleg sighed, getting his breath back and preparing himself for what he now had to do. He had absolutely no idea how to turn a vampire, let alone a Supreme one, into a loyal servant, therefore his opponent had to die. Weighing the darkh in his hands, the only weapon capable of killing her without torture, Oleg pointed it at her. At that moment he was repulsive even to himself. It was one thing to kill a dangerous opponent in the heat of the battle, when it was a matter of life and death, but it was quite another matter to kill a defenceless and beautiful naked girl bound both hand and foot.

Rationally Oleg understood that this was all a perilous illusion, that no matter who she looked like, you could certainly not call his adversary defenceless, nor indeed was it a girl, but an old and very dangerous Undead who had taken on an attractive form. If Outpost had not helped, Oleg would most likely now be dead. He had made a deal with the Duchess after all, and was obliged to free the young duke, and if he didn’t kill this she-vampire, then he would be unlikely to succeed. He found a thousand important and very logical reasons, but a very simple and strict rule kept ringing like a bell in his head: you cannot kill the defenceless, especially not a woman!

Oleg sensed that, were he to break this taboo, just as he had broken so many of his own principles since he arrived in this world, then something very important, something in the very foundations of his human personality, would die, and so, as he grew closer to his frozen opponent, he moved more and more slowly and his steps became shorter and shorter. Yet he was still drawing closer. His common sense clearly showed him the rather sad alternative: he should quickly save himself by any means possible from the dangers presented by this she-vampire, or he would have exactly the same length of time to live as it would take this girl standing before him to break free from the chains of the old spell. And something told Oleg that it wouldn’t take her all that long to free herself. He didn’t rate his chances of victory in a one-to-one battle too highly.

With a heavy sigh he raised the darkh, aiming to penetrate the heart without causing unnecessary suffering. Just then, his captive spoke for the first time.

‘Have mercy,’ the she-vampire’s tone was dry and calm. It seemed as though she had already come to terms with her approaching death and now, asking for mercy, she was just carrying out a boring and unpleasant duty, without expecting any reaction whatsoever to her words.

‘Don’t kill me,’ apart from willpower, amazement could be heard in her voice when she saw how Oleg stopped in his tracks at her words.

‘Do I have any choice?’ Oleg asked a little sadly. Nevertheless, hope flickered in his soul: what if he could get by without killing her?

She had not expected such a question, it seemed. The spell generating the trap evidently allowed some harmless movement on the part of its captive as the girl’s face took on a bewildered expression. Her next phrase was pronounced in that gentle, respectful tone usually used to talk to those who are soft in the head: ‘You could leave me here. Not kill me.’ But then, unable to contain herself, she added in an evil whisper: ‘But surely you came here for my head?’

‘No,’ Oleg grinned. ‘I have absolutely no need for your head. I came here for the young duke, and you just got in my way.’ While they had been talking Oleg had managed to get his feelings in order, and now he was fully capable of killing the she-vampire. But he continued the conversation nevertheless. ‘And as for leaving you here, I think I am not unduly mistaken when I say that the first thing you would do when you got free would be to kill me. And the second thing would be to take Kolin. That doesn’t suit me.’

The she-vampire, having sensed a real possibility of saving her “life”, said, ‘I can swear not to touch you…’

‘The oath of a vampire.’ Oleg interrupted her. ‘There are many legends in the world about your capriciousness. Surely you don’t think I am as naive as all that? Although I
have
heard that there is an oath your kind cannot break. If you swore me the Oath of Blazing Blood, then I might leave you among the living.’

‘Aha, that’s what all this is leading to!’ Hatred and scorn could be heard in the girl’s voice. ‘Do you really think I would buy my own life at the price of freedom, become the obedient slave of a Light magician?’

‘No. And that is why I was about to kill you straight away, but you asked for mercy, so I laid out the alternatives. As far as I understand, this proposal is not to your liking. Pity. But one last question: why do you think I’m a Light magician?’ Oleg waved the darkh to demonstrate, holding the dagger right up to the she-vampire’s face so that she could get a good look at the magical weapon of the necromancer.

‘What does it matter who can lay their hands on the regalia of a Knight of Despair? They say that after the fall of the Dark Citadel you could even buy them at the market. Anyone can get hold of a dagger. But a blade like yours only glows in the hands of a Light one. Those blades of the Spirit of Fire which belonged to the dark ones were black swords! And now kill me, victor.’ She pursed her treacherously shaking lips.

‘If you say so.’ An odd, cold indifference had been taking hold of Oleg more and more as their conversation went on. ‘If she wants me to kill her, then kill her it is,’ he thought. ‘I should have struck immediately and not got involved in any soul-saving conversations. It would have been easier for her, too, she wouldn’t have got false hopes up, and I wouldn’t have wasted my time.’ And so he didn’t restrain himself but activated the darkh, and with the rhetorical question (indicating the magical glow lightening up the weapon): ‘And can anyone do this, too?’ – he swiftly struck out, aiming below her left breast.

But no matter how swift his movement was, the she-vampire still managed to cry out “Stop!” With a huge effort, Oleg managed to stop the movement of the blade at the very last minute. The sharp tip froze literally millimetres from the girl’s body.

‘Only a dark magician can activate a darkh. I don’t know why your sword of the Spirit is glowing, but it doesn’t matter. I couldn’t have served a light magician, I would have died the moment I took the oath, and a very painful death it would have been, but I can bow to a dark one. I agree to your terms.’

‘Then swear the oath!’

It was as though a stone were lifted from Oleg’s soul. Nevertheless, taking common sense precautions, he connected telepathically with Outpost asking him to describe the oath-taking procedure. It turned out to be very interesting, and there were two variations. The first was only uttered by the Undead, and after uttering it the Vampire would become a will-less slave in his master’s hands, obliged to dully carry out his commands. But there was a second possibility, too, rarely used, whereby once the vampire had sworn his oath, the dark magician who had tamed him uttered an oath, too.

In this case their relationship was more reminiscent of that between a signor and a vassal, although it was still called magical slavery. This enabled the magician to hear at a long distance, to help the vampire which had fallen under his power, to use him with maximum efficiency by precisely evaluating all his capabilities, and if necessary, to increase his own magical energy thereby allowing the vampire to go for a long time without needing blood. In comparison with the first type of agreement, this one gave the vampire a considerable amount of freedom of will, and also a certain degree of safety as the magician took upon himself the responsibility of protecting his vassal. Moreover, the connection established between them was so close that should the younger partner perish, this would cause the magician very strong pain, like that when an arm is amputated. It is not surprising that dark magicians, preferring freedom and independence from everyone, no matter who, only rarely made use of the second version. But it was precisely this one that interested Oleg.

The she-vampire asked him his real name, and aware of the necessity of this, Oleg told her, and she began: ‘I, Vereene del Nagall, swear on the blazing blood of Darkness my allegiance to the dark magician Oleg Vladi-miro-vich (she pronounced his patronymic with obviously difficulty, syllable by syllable) Davidov, to carry out all his commands and to defend him from any danger. May I burn in the fire of my own blood if I break this oath.’ As she pronounced the oath, her voice grew quieter and so she all but whispered the concluding words. Teardrops fell from the girl’s eyes. Nevertheless, it was the correct text and with the magical sight of a demon, Oleg saw that as she pronounced the oath a blazing thread twined around the aura of the Supreme She-Vampire standing before him and then stretched out towards him. Had Oleg wanted to, this thread could tighten, causing his slave excruciating agony, or burst into flame, reducing her to ashes.

As soon as she had finished, Outpost switched off the trap at once, saving energy. Still crying, Vereene fell on her knees and covered her face with her hands. Her black sword, which she had mastered so well, disappeared, as though sucked into the hand of its mistress, her long black hair spread over the dirty floor and the girl continued to bewail her love and her freedom, from which she had so suddenly been separated.

Oleg didn’t delay. He felt very embarrassed and very sorry for the girl, so he didn’t draw things out but began:

‘I, Oleg Davidov, accept the oath of Vereene del Nagall and I in my turn swear not to abuse this power I have received, not to cause harm to the life of the said Vereene nor harm her physical or psychological health without dire need, but to help and defend her should she need it. May the blazing blood of Darkness be witness and keeper of my oath!’

He deliberately changed the standard text of the oath to show the girl that he did not intend to abuse her subordinate position. Nevertheless, all the necessary words were in their rightful places, the dark force was present in the pronouncement of the oath, and the oath worked just as Outpost had described. The thread linking Vereene’s and Oleg’s auras changed. Now it was not so suitable for commanding and causing pain, but instead it facilitated far broader communication, enabling them to exchange emotions and if desired, even exchange thoughts. And the first thing Oleg used this new link between them for was to show the girl his intentions for her future, to reassure her.