“What will you do if it comes?” Jenrosa asked him.
“Cut its bloody head off,” he said grimly.
The forest was completely still. No animal came snuffling at the perimeter of their camp, no wind moved among the trees, no insects called out in the night. Lynan sat as closely as possible to the fire without risking his forester’s coat catching alight. He turned constantly, peering into the dark. Whenever a log cracked in the fire, he jumped and then cursed his own cowardice.
Time stretched until seconds seemed like minutes and minutes seemed like hours. Lynan wondered if he would ever be relieved from the watch. Perhaps Silona was sorceress as well as vampire and had frozen time until she could find the mind she had touched so softly the night before.
Twice before, he told himself, remembering those green eyes in the forest.
When at last Ager did rouse himself from sleep, stretching like a misshapen bear and grinning like a child waking on its birthday, Lynan felt so much relief he wanted to laugh.
“How did it go?” Ager asked him.
“No problems at all,” Lynan lied.
Ager nodded and made himself comfortable on an upturned log.
For a while Lynan watched the confident crookback with envy, then closed his eyes and fell into a deep sleep as if he had nothing in the world to worry about.
The sixth day after the companions left the hamlet the trees started to thin out and they could track the sun against the sky. The air was cooler, drier, and they could smell a river and ripening fields as well as bark and moss and humus. The old trail they had been following for so long now turned east, so they headed north among the trees, confident they would soon come to the borders of the forest.
Early in the afternoon Lynan stopped suddenly and looked up. The others halted, hands going to weapons.
“It’s all right,” Lynan told them. “Listen.”
They all cocked their heads and listened. They kept still for over a minute. Jenrosa opened her mouth to make some comment about her feet turning into roots when the clear, beautiful fluting of a bird reached all their ears. Jenrosa smiled with pleasure and Kumul and Ager laughed.
“I never thought I’d be so pleased to hear birdsong again,” Kumul admitted.
“Not long now,” Ager said. “Maybe only one more night in this forest and then we’re out.”
They set off with renewed energy and a longer stride, even Ager stretching his strange lope without complaint. None of them cared what dangers faced them out in the open because nothing could be worse than the constant fear they had endured over the last six days.
That evening they had no trouble finding a suitable place to make camp. They celebrated their last night in the forest by eating the last of the dried meat the foresters had given them.
“We’ll have to find another stream tomorrow or we’ll have nothing to eat,” Ager said.
“Unfortunately, I haven’t a bow, but I could try and trap some game,” Kumul offered.
“As long as we’re out of this forest, I don’t care if I don’t eat for a month,” Lynan said.
When Lynan took his watch, he was alert but more relaxed than he had been for many nights. He was reassured when he heard the sounds of crickets among the undergrowth, and even the occasional soft padding in the dark of something considerably larger than an insect. Nevertheless, he kept the fire high and bright, and was glad of the warmth it gave.
Toward the end of his watch he heard someone stir, and he turned expecting to see Ager rising early, but it was Jenrosa. She had turned in her sleep, throwing open her coat. Lynan walked quietly to her and closed the coat around her and then, on impulse, softly touched her hair. The skin on his fingers tingling, he retreated, feeling that perhaps not all was wrong with the world after all.
He turned and saw, at the edge of darkness and light, a girl. She was small, dressed in green cloth, with long blonde hair that reached down to her waist. Her face was hidden in the night.
Lynan studied her, unafraid. She took a gliding step forward, as if her feet were not actually touching the ground. He could see her face now. It was round and beautiful. Deep, dark eyes returned his stare. She looked younger than Lynan. She took another step forward and held out her hand.
Lynan started walking toward her. A part of his mind was telling him to stay where he was, but he ignored it and kept on walking until he was only a few paces from the girl. He noticed absently that it was not green cloth that dressed her but parts of tree and bush and moss, and somehow it all seemed a part of her, not something she wore at all.
“I have been searching for you for many nights,” she said, her hand still held out to him. Her voice was as deep and dark as the night surrounding them, and it drew him forward. He reached out with his own hand and took hers. Her skin was as smooth and cold as glass. Her nails dug into his palm and he felt warm, sticky blood trickle between his fingers.
She leaned forward and whispered into his ear. “I want you. I need you.” Her breath was like the sighing of the wind. He could see now that her eyes were the green of the forest itself. She raised his wounded hand and softly licked the palm. He reached out with his other hand. The green surrounding her fell away, and he saw two small white breasts with dark brown nipples.
He put his bloody hand over one of her breasts. He felt no warmth, but still desire flamed within him. She took his hand and moved it to the other breast, and then the flat of her stomach, smearing blood over her ivory skin.
“Kiss me,” she said, and pulled him toward her.
He wrapped his arms around her waist and brought his lips against hers. He kissed her gently, ignoring the smell of decay on her breath and the sharp teeth that filled her mouth and the rough, rasping tongue that touched his. She drew him away and smiled, her mouth wet with saliva. He saw her eyes brighten, and her pupils distend into slits like those of a cat. Her nails stroked the back of his head and neck.
“Kiss me again,” she said.
Lynan submitted, lost in her, and shivered when her teeth bit into his lower lip. The metallic taste of his own blood flooded his mouth and a small germ of panic wormed its way into his mind. He tried to draw back but found that he was held fast. He grabbed her arms and immediately let them go—they felt like the strong, young branches of a wideoak, the skin rough as bark. A cry started somewhere deep in his throat and escaped as a pitiful moan. His lover threw her head back and laughed, an eager and malevolent sound that finally brought him to his senses and he saw her for what she was.
The face was still that of a girl, still beautifully alluring, but it rested on a body that was half-human and half-tree. The limbs were covered in gray skin, and her body was as hard as wood. Her hair was made from green wisps that smelled of moss and twigs and made a clacking sound when she moved her head. A long, green tongue with three hollow tendrils flickered between her lips.
“Do you desire me?” the creature asked, and laughed again.
He felt her grip tighten around him, and his breathing became labored as he felt his rib cage bending under the pressure. He put his hand under her chin to keep her mouth away from his face, but she was far too strong and slowly she forced her head closer to his.
Suddenly the night was filled with flaring brightness. Lynan was flung away from the vampire like a child’s toy, and he landed heavily on his side. He heard a scream of such pain and torment that his mind reeled in shock. He shook his head and looked up to see Jenrosa, a flaming brand in one hand and a sword in the other, confronting Silona. She was thrusting the brand at the creature’s face, forcing it farther and farther away from Lynan. He saw that Jenrosa was also drawing herself farther into the forest. He cried out to her and tried to stand, but was still so dazed he could only manage to get to his knees.
He heard more cries behind him as Kumul and Ager leaped to their feet and scrabble for their weapons. With a greater effort Lynan stood up and tried to run to Jenrosa’s assistance, drawing his sword as he did so. By now Silona was fighting back, hissing fiercely at the magicker and trying to knock the brand from her grasp. The vampire moved to Jenrosa’s left, forcing her to follow, then quickly leaped back to her right, her arm whipping up and connecting with the magicker’s right shoulder. Jenrosa cried out in pain but managed to hold on to the brand. Silona now struck with her other arm, and her nails raked across Jenrosa’s right shoulder. This time the impact sent the brand flying out of her grasp to land fizzing on the ground twenty paces away. Silona cried in triumph and moved in for the kill, but the cry turned into a scream of rage as Lynan’s sword sliced into her arm. Lynan felt the blade bite into the vampire’s limb, making a whacking sound as if it had embedded itself in a block of wood. Silona pulled back, the blade popping out of her arm. Pale blood seeped from the deep cut, pink in color and almost transparent.