Although she did her best to hide it, Gliss couldn't deny that the inner chamber of the Glaive Clan estate was in intimidating place. By design, it seemed.
A raised, semi-circular dais dominated the far side of the room, looming ten feet high and built from some kind of dark grey wood she didn't recognise. It closed around them like an enormous pincer, hemming in any who were called to the judgement of the Elders. Gas lamps burned faintly down both walls, filling the chamber with a strangely thick light that accentuated the shadow the dais cast. On the floor in front of them was a jet black circle, emblazoned with a grey motif of two crossed, curved blades – the crest of the Glaive Clan.
However, far more threatening than the architecture was the powerful presence that washed over her mind when they entered. Gliss swallowed hard. It had been a long time since she'd felt anything quite this potent, even among her own Clan. Her eyes rose toward the source and she felt the faint, unfamiliar sensation of fear crawling in her gut.
Eleven faces stared down at her, severe, calculating and unreadable and her normally confident stride deserted her. She shuffled to a halt, suddenly unwilling to take another step. Ahead of her, however, the seneschal felt no such trepidation. He walked out into the centre of the black marble crest and banged the base of his cane against it. The resulting crack echoed around the chamber for several seconds before he spoke.
"Elders, one of your own requests audience," he boomed, the deep timbre of his voice rolling around the room. Then Tithe stepped to one side, looking pointedly back at Capper.
The male vampire in the centre of the dais leaned forward, resting his dark-skinned hands on the wood in front of him. "He may approach." Gliss felt the power of his voice shake her rib-cage like the thump of a powerful bass speaker. Licking her lips nervously, she followed in Capper's wake as he approached the Elders, suddenly very conscious of the noise her heels made on the marble floor.
Keep it together, she thought, stopping at Capper's side and forcing herself to look up. The vampire in the centre appraised her coldly and she as she met his eyes she felt the immense power of his Aspect crash against her. It was all she could do not to back away. This creature was very old and very powerful. With dark skin almost the colour of coal he was like a living piece of the night. Her gaze flickered left and right. None of the others were quite so intimidating, but they had power of their own. Around half of those present didn't even look at them. They seemed bored and disinterested with proceedings.
"Capper," the Elder in the middle said softly. "I take it your new friend is the reason for this audience?"
"Yes, Elder Jocasta." Capper lowered his head and to her amazement she could see his fingers fidgeting nervously with the beanie. "She is an Ostracised, from Iron Hollow. She's looking for sanctuary."
"Indeed?" Jocasta leaned back in his seat, grey eyes twinkling with amusement. "And why does she seek it here?"
"She..." Capper hesitated. "It wasn't her choice. I offered it to her."
"I see." The Elder nodded knowingly. His gaze drifted to her and Gliss forced down the lump in her throat, holding her ground. "What is your name?"
"Gliss Raynor, Elder," she answered, dipping her head respectfully. She disliked pomp and ceremony, but she wasn't stupid. "Formerly of Clan Thorne."
"And why, Gliss Raynor, were you Ostracised?"
Time to set the game in motion. "I was disrespectful to my Clan's Elders."
"Is that so?" Jocasta chuckled. "Then I can see why Capper likes you."
She glanced at the young vampire alongside her. He kept his head down but she saw him grimace at the remark.
"That being said," the Elder continued. "We do not tolerate indiscipline here." He looked at Capper. "Much."
"I have no wish to offend," Gliss said carefully. "I believed our Elders were leading us into disaster. I was trying to help our Clan, and for that I have been banished."
"The Thornes are a long way from here," a female vampire on the far right of the dais purred dangerously. "You've gone to some lengths to distance yourself from them." She dragged a long nail across the wood in front of her, sharp narrow eyes searching; probing. "What direction were your Elders taking that you so disagreed with?"
"They were moving into open conflict with the other Clans in Iron Hollow. It was madness."
"Interesting," another Elder growled. "Given that the Thornes were driven out of Iron Hollow more than three decades ago."
Gliss straightened up and turned her eyes on the speaker. She'd been prepared for this. A young hot head like Capper may not have known anything about the Thorne Clan, but it would have nothing short of moronic to expect the same ignorance from the Elders here.
"Yes we were," she returned through gritted teeth. "A fact I am more aware of than you will ever be."
"Gliss!" Capper whispered sharply, glancing at her aghast.
She ignored him and forced herself to lock eyes with Elder. Then she gently rolled up the sleeve of her left arm. To her satisfaction she saw several expressions of surprise among the onlookers as they caught sight of what lay beneath her jacket. Below the leather her skin was scarred with white burn marks that once had formed a series of coiling Thorne tattoos. The memory of the pain was still raw in her mind; a measure of just how far she'd gone for her true Clan.
"By the First," one of them muttered.
"They did that to you?" Capper asked in disbelief.
Gliss nodded. "Holy water."
To her surprise, even amidst the powerful presence of the Glaive Elders she felt his Aspect spike, and his whole body seemed to tremble for an instant as he stared at the scars. His eyes flickered for a second, revealing the vampiric visage beneath his human façade. He was angry about what had been done to her and she could feel it rolling off him like fiery wave. With an effort she looked away from him, shaking the feeling off.
"I mean no disrespect," she said, rolling her sleeve back down. "But Iron Hollow is a long way from here. I do not pretend to understand the struggles of your Clan and you should not pretend to understand mine. You do not know everything that is happening in the North. The balance of the Clans is shifting and we – the Thornes – tried to reclaim our lost land." She let a long pause hang in the air before continuing. "But our Elders wanted more, too much more. They wanted vengeance and retribution. It was suicide. I confronted them about it and..." She spread her hands wide. "Here I am."
Jocasta exchanged unreadable looks with his compatriots. "An interesting tale," he said quietly. "And it is true that our eyes in the North have been...shrouded of late."
"If you want me to leave, I will," Gliss told him. "As I said, I have no wish to offend your Clan. But I am alone here."
"Elders," Capper piped up suddenly. "Surely – temporarily at least – we can give her a roof over her head?"
"You're young and blinded by infatuation," the woman on the right shot back venomously. "And this decision was not yours to make."
"Calm yourself, Urda." A thin smile had stamped itself on Jocasta's features. "At present we cannot prove that she is lying. I see no reason why we should not at least be hospitable." He looked at Capper and his smile faded. "However, Capper, I will only say this once. She is your responsibility."
He nodded.
"She may stay, but until we can verify her story she goes nowhere without escort, either out in the city or within the mansion – no exceptions. Do you understand?"
"I do."
Gliss clenched her fists tightly by her sides. She doubted she would have received any better treatment from the other clans of Veridian Shores, but nonetheless the thought of being chaperoned day in, day out made her stomach twist. Not to mention that it would compound the difficulty of her already daunting task. Still, there was nothing she could do about it now.
"I will have Tithe prepare a room in the West Wing," Jocasta continued. "In the meantime, I'm sure Capper can occupy your time adequately." Then he rose and Gliss couldn't stop her eyes widening when she realised just how tall the Elder was. He loomed like a giant from the raised dais, easily seven feet in height. "I believe this audience is concluded."
No-one disagreed, though she saw Elder Urda glaring at her. Fortunately Gliss didn't have to have that staring match as Tithe shepherded the two young vampires back out of the audience chamber.
Once the doors boomed shut again she exhaled a long, slow breath, rubbing her eyes with one hand. Her nerves tingled as though she'd just been electrocuted and she could feel her heart slamming in her chest, but she fought to suppress the sensation. If she let her relief be too obvious that would only make Capper suspicious. Right now he was the closest thing to an ally she had.
Opening her eyes, she looked at him. Gratifyingly he appeared just as glad to be out of the chamber, hands on his hips and his eyes turned toward the ceiling as though searching for inspiration.
"Capper," she said quietly, dragging his gaze to her. "Thanks for speaking up for me."
He shrugged awkwardly. "Don't mention it."
"Seems like you've got a bit of history with the Elders."
"Ah, yeah." Capper glanced back at the closed door. "You could say that."
"Alright, you two," Tithe interjected. "I'll have a room prepared for our new guest." He indicated Gliss's leather bag with his cane. "Leave that."
Her brow furrowed and she rotated the bag protectively away from him. "What for?"
"The servants will take care of settling your belongings. But more to the point, it needs to be searched."
"Excuse me?"
"Tithe, is that really-"
"Enough!" the seneschal snapped. "This is not a discussion. You put on quite a performance in there, Miss Raynor, but you are still an outsider. We have agreed to give you lodgings within our walls, but that comes with conditions." He glowered at her. "And if you have nothing to hide then you have nothing to worry about."
Gliss tensed, but she knew she had no choice. There was nothing in the bag that would give her away – just some clothes and money – but she still didn't like the idea of a bunch of thralls rifling through her belongings.
Nevertheless she placed the bag reluctantly on the floor and spread her hands wide. "Happy?"
Tithe gave her a withering look. "Capper, why don't you show our 'guest' around. I'll have someone find you once her room is prepared." He waved his cane dismissively.
Gliss decided very quickly that she didn't like the seneschal. Before she could make him aware of the fact she felt Capper move up beside her. He laid a hand on her back and with her jaw tight she let him steer her gently away from Tithe.
They walked away from the Elders' chamber but also away from the main atrium where she could still hear the sounds of music and voices seeping through the passages of the estate. For what felt like minutes they strode through a series of empty passages, and she began to wonder where exactly she was being taken.
"Does it hurt?" he asked suddenly.
Gliss blinked. "Huh?"
"I mean your arm. The tattoos; did it hurt when they...you know?"
"What do you think?"
Capper bit his lip. "Sorry. I've just never seen it done before. I didn't think Clans still did that."
"The north's different, Capper," she replied.
"It's barbaric."
"Yes, yes it is. And it hurt like hell."
"Bastards."
There it was again. She looked side-long at him to see his eyes boring into the carpeted floor. Evidently things were done more differently in Veridian Shores than she realised. Back home the ritualistic burning of a criminal's tattoos was more common than she liked to admit.
"It's what they do to Ostracised," she told him. "That's why other Clans in the city won't go near them. The scarring's permanent."
"I'm sorry."
"Don't be. You didn't do it."
Capper took a deep breath; exhaled long and slow through his nose. "Alright, so, a tour?"
Gliss raised an eyebrow. "What do you recommend?"
"Well, you seem like you can handle yourself." He looked her up and down, a knowing smile spreading across his face. "Want to see the training pits?"
"It's your house."
"I wish." He grinned. "C'mon."
Side by side the two young vampires made their way through the halls of the Glaive estate. Away from the atrium they came across other inhabitants, some garishly clad upper echelons who, despite their wildly indulgent clothes, oozed power. Gliss could sense the blaze of their Aspects, and earned more than one disdainful look for her scruffy attire. She bit back the barbed responses that wanted to leap off her tongue. There would be time for that later.
Capper led her through a series of high-ceilinged hallways, all of them lit by ornately carved gas lamps and lined with tapestries, portraits and murals. Ancient faces peered down at her, immortalised in pastel and stone, eternally judging. It was a far cry from the Spartan, singularly purposed gunnels of Iron Hollow. The normal clack of her boots was muffled by the carpet and she felt strangely exposed without the sound echoing along in her wake.
Down they went, descending several flights of stairs until Gliss's sharp ears picked out a different kind of clamour to what she'd heard in the atrium. Voices undulated in peaks and troughs and she could hear the crash and clack of weapons. The echoes rose as though someone were turning the volume up on a dial, until eventually they stepped through a large archway. Her eyes opened wide at what she saw and it was all she could do to keep her jaw from dropping.
Deep beneath the estate a vast cavern had been hollowed out from the rock, so big she could barely take it all in. The roof had somehow been carved into a series of symmetrical dome-like cupolas, each one holding an enormous chandelier that poured light into the chamber below. And what lay there was even more impressive.
Arranged in a grid pattern were eight rectangular, sand-floored sparring arenas, each one filled with men and women fighting. Instructors roared and those not currently involved watched, giving unsolicited advice and wagering on their compatriots. The whole space rang with the clatter of weapons but on closer inspection she saw that the combatants were armed with strange thin rods made of a wooden pole reinforced with a metal frame.
"What do you think?"
"Impressive," Gliss murmured, shaking her head. "How long has this been here?"
"Longer than me," Capper said. "Longer than the estate itself, if you believe the Elders."
She let out an impressed whistle. He led her to the edge of the balcony that ran around the chamber looking down on the sparring, and leant his elbows on the thick metal railing. Joining him, Gliss looked down. The spars rattled along at incredible speed, the contestants moving far quicker than a normal human ever could. Their weapons crackled, steel on steel; wood on wood.
"What are those things they're fighting with?"
Capper gave her a curious look. "You don't know?"
She shook her head.
"They're duelling rods – blunted ones obviously. The real ones are tipped with six-inch spikes." He turned to face her, one elbow still resting on the railing. "They've been used in Veridian Shores to settle old scores for a long time." His free arm shot out, tapping the leather jacket right above her heart. "One clean thrust is all it takes."
"Oh." She sniffed dismissively. "We don't ritualise grudges back home."
"Hey, I didn't invent it," he chuckled. "I just work here."
"You any good with those rods?"
Capper shook his head. "Not my style. I don't fight for fun."
"But you do fight?"
He didn't reply, instead shrugging his brawny shoulders and turning back to watch the sparring. Her eyes lingered on him for a moment as she tried to figure out what he'd meant. Capper certainly had the build for fighting and he hardly seemed squeamish. Not my style.
Gripping the railing with both hands she returned her attention to the flurry of movement down below. In the pit closest to them a rumble of cheers rose above the others and a blur of black leather down below caught her eye.
In the sparring pit two vampires – a male and female – were engaged in a ferocious back and forth fight, both armed with two duelling rods. They raced around the arena, rods cracking together loudly as they parried and struck, all the while being egged on by their companions gathered around the combat area. To her surprise, however, she recognised the girl.
"Is that ... is that Brooke?" She squinted, not quite believing that the whirling, twisting figure was the same person they'd met in the atrium.
"Like I said," Capper chuckled. "She'll fool you."
Gliss pressed her lips tightly together, watching with interest as the slight figure of the prissy aristocrat danced and slashed, moving with almost choreographed precision. Her opponent was taller but slower: reach versus speed. So far neither had been able to land a clean hit. They circled; clashed together for a few vicious seconds then drifted apart again. This pattern repeated half a dozen times and neither of them seemed to be tiring, their enhanced bodies letting them batter and bludgeon long beyond human endurance. To Gliss it seemed like a stalemate.
Then suddenly Brooke twisted and spun in an elaborate pirouette, diving inside her opponent's guard. Like an uncoiling spring she shot upright. The rod in her right hand stabbed out and its blunted tip thudded hard into the other vampire's chest, right above his heart. The force of the blow knocked him flat, leaving Brooke standing posed, one rod outstretched and the other pointing skyward.
A chorus of cheers and groans rose from the pit and Brooke twirled her duelling rods triumphantly, bowing to her supporters. The other vampire picked himself up, rubbing his chest where the rod had struck. Gliss looked over at her chaperone and found him looking back, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
"Not bad," she admitted. "So what exactly are they training for?"
"Officially, they're training for tournaments that the clans hold throughout the year."
"And unofficially?"
Capper's smile faded. "Iron Hollow isn't the only place where things are changing."