Shadowhunter (Nephilim Quest Book 1) (71 page)

They had lived together, but somehow the new creature was not as strong as the vampires created by the Nephilim. In time she withered and became more fragile, withdrawing more and more into the shadows and she was eventually killed. But she had created her own kind before that happened. And they created their kind in turn, and a new species of creature was born.
 

These human vampires were long-lived, some very long indeed, but they could be killed. Ambrogio, however, had been in many life threatening situations, and always his body had managed to heal itself from the severest of wounds, just like the bodies of other Nephilim-made vampires. Nephilim-created vampires were the strongest of all, but the blood they transferred through others they infected was never quite as potent in the veins of their offspring. Also, the vampires that the Nephilim created did not need human blood to live, and could feed equally well on animals, but whatever offspring they produced had to drink human blood to thrive.
 

Angel felt nervous in the presence of the First Vampire. He never really revealed his innermost thoughts, and she did not dare to ask. Ambrogio had the eyes of the dark Nephilim – yellow, oily. His skin was an odd shade of pale gold, and his hair was shiny and black. He could walk in the sunlight and not suffer, but the strange color of his pale skin drew so much attention that he rarely did so.

"We know now Daniel's group has gone to ancient Egypt," Angel said, looking furious. "I want you to follow them. The shadows revealed to them that we know where their lair is. The fight with Daniel and Elijah was magnificent, but not successful because Dana escaped."

 "How do I follow them, my lady?"

Ambrogio was standing in the room alone. His shadow was nowhere to be seen.

"You are to follow them discreetly, when they search for the Trail of Angels. They are vulnerable now that Daniel and Elijah are not with them. You will follow them and tell us when they find the Abode of the Watchers – or preferably, the last clue to its whereabouts. We would prefer to find the place before they do."

"How will I do that, my lady?" Ambrogio asked. "I am no Time Walker. Vampires cannot time walk."

"You will have all the help you need," Angel said and turned to look to her right. "Come, show yourself!"

The curtain leading to another room next to Angel's office moved. A hooded female figure stepped into the room.

"You are a Weaver," Ambrogio stated the fact.
 
He could tell from the slightly smoky smell that emanated from all Weavers.
 

"I am," the woman said. "As it is, I do not have long before I
 
have to return. They are never to know that I am gone - luckily the devastation of the Center is such that they will not miss me for a while. The important thing is that I know exactly where they went, and I can take you there."

She looked at Ambrogio from under her hood with open curiosity, and did not seem afraid. Only sad.

"Who are you? Why are you doing this?" Ambrogio demanded.

"Because I want immortality. Not only in the buffer zone, but in human world as well," she said.

"You do not know what you ask," Ambrogio said, and the tiredness in his voice made Angel quickly glance his way. "Immortality is perhaps not all you think it to be."

"Maybe. But my husband was attacked and has transformed into one of your kind.  I want to spend my life with him, and not die before him. I want to be transformed into a vampire. This is why I helped the shadows in their attempt to seize Dana for you."

"Why do you not ask your husband to do the honours, then?" Ambrogio lifted his eyebrow.

"I know that to be truly immortal or to live a lot longer than the ordinary vampire, I need to be changed by a Nephilim. My husband was. And my Lady Angel here has promised to transform me as a reward for my help."

Ambrogio looked at the dark-haired woman. He felt pity for her – she did not know the depths of despair a Nephilim-created vampire could fall into, watching everyone near them die except the Nephilim, who cared little about the lives of humans or the vampires. They were simply the ones who were doomed to do the dirty work of the dark ones, intented to watch their children die – both biological and created ones.  

For a while Ambrogio let the memories of Selene fill his mind, and his eternal search for the perfect woman who would bring her back to life again. There were a few fleeting days of her presence in the new female body, and then it faded away. He listened to her presence in his own blood, and felt it become quieter until it was only an occasional whisper.
 

It was as though his vampire blood was tainted by time and age, and Selene's presence was no longer pure.
 
All the human blood he had taken through the centuries had tainted hers, and she was now hidden behind the cursed whispers of those Ambrogio had killed after her - all competing for his attention.

Finally he understood that he had to stop killing people for food and go back to feeding from animal blood. Animals' consciousnesses left their bodies so easily, and left only a fleeting residue of their minds behind, soon gone. But he occasionally killed women still, especially those who reminded him of Selene, in the vanishing hope of bringing her back through his own blood in the veins of the newly created vampire.

He had often wondered, what would have happened if the last call for the silver winged one had been successful. He knew one had got away, when he shot that last arrow.  If he had answered that call in Ephesus, could he have taken that Nephilim blood? Or would he have healed his Selene voluntarily? Or maybe Ambrogio's own blood so that Selene would have been present, and conscious inside him forever...

With time rage had risen inside Ambrogio. The silver winged ones were supposed to help, when they heard the call of the device. The last one should have returned, he often raged to himself. Still, he knew, that if that one silver winged Nephilim still existed, he would remember Ambrogio, and would never help voluntarily. But he could fight the creature, and take its blood, and drink it and pour it into his own wounds, so Selene could come back into his mind, if not into any female body.

Ambrogio felt the weight of the little leather pouch hanging from his neck. The odd device used to lure the silver Nephilim to him was still there. Useless, but a symbol of his transformation. He had not been able to throw it away.

Because of his own lost love Ambrogio understood this Weaver. The hope of being eternally with the one you loved... yes, he did understand.

Angel waited for her Hunter to think through whatever it was that occupied him. She knew better than to hurry his decision. He was much older than she was, and wiser.

"Very well," Ambrogio finally said. "Who are the travellers? Tell me their names."

She did.

"The Nephilim girl is an oddity, though," the Weaver said at the end.

"Oddity, how?" Angel asked.

"She got her wings too early for one... and she is a mighty healer. And a Weaver the like of which we have never seen before."

Angel stood like a statue.

"A healer?" she asked.

"She healed Elijah after he had been infected by one of your kind. And then she healed a Nephilim who had already been your kind for months. She gives them some kind of blood transfusion, I've been told. She purifies their blood with her wings."

Ambrogio's eyes turned pitch black from emotion. Angel was too occupied with her own surprise to notice how he clutched the leather pouch that was always hanging from his neck.

"What colour are her wings?" Angel asked.

"The most amazing colour... pure white – with silver veins. She is a Silver Nephilim. We thought her kind were dead long ago - gone in ancient times."

Ambrogio's face revealed nothing.

"Very well," he said in a rasping voice, "you will take me to them in ancient Egypt. How do we keep in contact?"

"I will attach one of my strings to you. I can connect to you through it, and hear you calling me," the Weaver said.

"Ambrogio," Angel said.

"Yes, my lady?"

"Bring her alive to me. She belongs to me. Promise me this."

Ambrogio turned and the Weaver took his hand, flinching at first at the touch of his cold skin through her gloves. Then she determinedly took his hand tightly into hers. She held an object and cut an opening into the air. Ambrogio's keen eyes recognized the rosy transparent colour of the tip she was holding and he remembered how he had fallen on top of Artemis's weapon. How had this ended up in the hands of the Weaver?

The Weaver held some other object as well in her hand, too small for Ambrogio to see. Her hands became blurry and several coloured strings wove from her palms and into the opening.  Ambrogio followed her, and she turned and closed the opening behind them.

Only then Angel realized that Ambrogio had never answered her.

CHAPTER NINETY-ONE

91. Floating

"Do you ever miss them?"

We sat by the underground lake, Seth and I.

I drew a line in the water with my finger and watched how the little shiny silver particles followed my finger. If I let them touch my skin, they tickled it slightly. It was a gentle, bubbly feeling.

"Who?" I asked, even though I knew full well whom he meant.

The roof of the cave was quite high where we were sitting, but the glow of the water lit it nevertheless. The waters created beautiful shimmering reflections on the rock. Further upstream, a small crack in the rock let a little daylight seep in to light the water. It was breathtakingly beautiful. Because of the light you could see to the bottom of the lake - the silver dust covered everything there, and shone light upwards, revealing even the smallest detail.

"Your mother and sister," Seth patiently said.

He was never impatient towards me, only friendly. He was older than me, but had become my friend from the moment we descended to the underground caves and the Silver Waters.
 

And there we lived with my kind, even though I found it hard to believe we were similar. I was the only one without color.
 

I loved the caves. There was no need for me to shelter myself from the sun here. And at night I could climb on top of the rocks and sit under my stars. I heard the song of the night easily here, in the total silence of the desert. Only storm winds could stop me from hearing the music of the stars.

During the days the lake drew me to it. At first Mut-Bity had been worried I would drown, but Seth promised he would teach me to swim. And he did.
 

The water was warm, and when we swam in it, we left a darker trail in the illuminating liquid.

I felt the water had an intelligence of its own. If I sat alone there, I could almost hear the water speak to me. Not in words, but in its own vibrating song. It resonated within me. Just like the song of the stars did.

Seth waited patiently for an answer.

"Yes, I do miss them," I said.
 

I was nine now, and three years had passed since Mut-Bity had brought me to safety. We received news of the outside world regularly, and we had heard that the great king Amenhotep Neb-Maat-Re was arranging his sed-jubilee to celebrate his thirtieth year on the throne. He had been building temples around his country for ten years now, to celebrate this occasion. It would be a great jubilation.
 

I often wondered whether my mother and sister were involved in the celebrations. Probably, as they were living with the king's Great Royal Wife, Tiye.

"What are their names? You have never told me them," Seth asked. "What is your sister's name?"

"Meryt-Neith," I said, "for she has a great temper and has even beaten the boys when they tried to steal her toys."

"Neith, goddess of war," Seith smiled, "she must have been a fierce child indeed to gain such a name.
 
Beloved of Neith. Is she older or younger than you?"

"Same age. We were born twins."

"How interesting. They say twins are forever connected. If one dies, the other one will carry them along in their mind for ever."

That sounded strange. How could anyone carry someone in their mind?

"And your mother? What is her name?"

I lowered myself in the water, and turned to float on my back. Seth followed me, and for a while we floated together in silence. The water was so saline it held us afloat with little effort.

I felt the familiar buzz in my back. The water caused this to happen. It felt ticklish, and I giggled.

"Shall we?" Seth smiled at me.

"Yes, let's."

We spread our wings and floated as if on a raft, hand in hand. The silver specks in the water gathered around us like tiny insects, only they did not bite. They covered our wings, and hummed, and our wings answered them back.

"It is as if our wings were made of this water," I said to Seth, "the way the wings and the water sing to each other, they sound just the same."

"Hmm..." Seth floated in the warm water, eyes closed, his long hair spread around his face.

My colourless strands of hair were similarly spread on the surface. Silver specks gave them a greyish color as long as I stayed here, enjoying the total safety, warmth and friendliness of the water.
 

I knew Seth had not forgotten his question, and he knew neither had I.
 
I wondered why I never had told him their names. He knew I had a mother, and a sister, but no father.

I sighed, and the cave softly echoed my voice, and the silver particles caressed my wings.

I looked at my wings, all relaxed, and open in the water. Seth's golden wings looked like electrum now, a mixture of gold and silver. His wings formed a clear half circle under him.

Mine were different, though. They were red in color, with silver pulsing in their veins, and they were in three parts, not one like Seth's.
 
They made me remember the wings of the queen bee the yellow-eyed man had killed. My wings were of a rare kind, I had been told. Also it seemed I had got my wings very young. It had something to do with the water, I was certain. I felt proud of my beautiful red wings.