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Something gleamed beside him.

He snatched up the sword. The blood and ash that stained the blade exterminated any doubt or hope he had left.

Dradyn walked from around the corner of the stables with his spear propped against his shoulder, and a heavy cloak in his arms. He tossed it to Marcellus, who suddenly realized he was freezing.

"Are you ready, Milord Marcellus? I have searched the grounds. As I figured, the servants who could not escape have been slaughtered. The beasts responsible have gone underground to escape the daylight, including your wife and daughter. Or who wear their forms, I should say. Now is the time to destroy them, if they are to be destroyed."

Marcellus groaned from deep within. "I do not have a choice. My wife and child must be avenged. We must do what must be done." He looked back at the abbey. "Will Nyori be safe in there alone?"

"I am coming with you." Nyori stood in the doorway, resolute despite the weariness on her face. She propped her glimmering staff on her shoulder.

"Are you sure, Nyori? You look as if you can barely stand."

"We need to stick together." She gazed at him as if daring him to disagree.

Marcellus sighed. "Very well, Shama. Let us be about this."

The trio shouldered their weapons and strode toward the entrance of the forbidding manor, which stood agape like a ravenous mouth.

As one, they stepped inside.

Chapter 21: Nyori

Nyori almost regretted her decision to accompany Marcellus and Dradyn. It was one thing to talk brave, but once inside she had to see the bodies of Marcellus' servants scattered throughout the manor. The corpses were white as ghosts, the pallid flesh crisscrossed with purple veins. There were no wounds visible. The life had simply been drained from them.

She allowed her senses to expand as she did when she first entered the manor. She had immediately known that a threat lay in the house. It took her almost too long to realize that it came from Marcellus' wife. She realized why Ayna spent so much time training Nyori to hone her senses. They were the difference between life and death.

The darkness of the place nearly engulfed her. It was not the gloom of the shadows. It was the malevolence of what had invaded the home, the inhuman presence of the akhkharu that once again brought death and suffering as gifts to mark their presence.

Yet the sensation was subdued, as though the darkness slept. Nyori prayed that it would continue that way.

"We are here."

Dradyn gestured toward the door of the wine cellar. He hefted the spear and drew an oversized cleaver from his belt. "Be ready. They are usually sluggish after they've fed like this. But there is no sunlight down there, and should they awaken, they will still be a threat."

Nyori swallowed and looked at Marcellus, who nodded as if to assure her. His face was slick with sweat. She could only imagine what he was going through.

When Dradyn opened the door, Nyori tilted Eymunder forward. The orb flushed in response to her mental command, illuminating the stairwell and casting shadows away as they descended.

Bottle upon bottle lay in their racks, and casks lay stacked atop one another in neatly arranged rows. Nyori couldn't understand why a single person would own so much. Most of it was layered in dust, speaking of the years they had lain in the cellar.

What disturbed her were the fresh tracks across the dusty floor.

The sight she had dreaded came into view as they rounded the last row of wine racks. Tables were pulled together, and upon them lay the men and women who were not truly men and women. They were akhkharu. They lay still as stone figures, but they still bore the warm and breathing flesh of the living.

Nyori gasped at the sound that emitted from Marcellus. He groaned like a dying man, clutching his chest as though to tear his heart out. Nyori followed his gaze and looked upon the slumbering figures of his wife and daughter.

Evelina was a marble statue, her cherubic features immortalized. Her eyes were closed, her face white as cream. Only hints of color blushed her cheeks, and her red-gold hair spun about her face as though woven at the Golden Loom of Nolavani. Her snowy gown was lined delicately with lace. Her hands clutched the small, vulnerable form of her Alexia to her breast. Alexia, whose body was whole and unbroken by the three-story fall. She lay as if in childish slumber, as if dreaming the ordinary, innocent dreams of children.

"Marcellus."

Dradyn gestured to the shadows in the corner of the room. "More bodies. You should see this."

"I have seen enough, Dradyn."

"It is a woman and a child, Marcellus," Dradyn said. He knelt in front of the bodies reverently. "It…it is the Lady Admorran and little Alexia. The akhkharu must have some way of taking on the faces of the slain."

Nyori quickly joined Dradyn and saw the truth. The two figures were distorted duplicates of those that lay on the table. Their skin was pallid, their veins blackened. Their bodies were tossed in the corner like dolls discarded by a careless child. Yet there was more truth to the face of their death than in the beauty of the creatures that took their forms.

She turned. "Dradyn is right, Marcellus…" Her voice trailed off.

Marcellus stared in the open eyes of the false Evelina.

"Marcellus." The akhkharu's voice cooed softly. "Do you truly mean to destroy us? To destroy your family in cold blood, the only ones you care for?" She raised questioning eyebrows at him. "The only ones who care for you?" She moved only her head, as though fearful any sudden movement might bring his sword upon her.

The other akhkharu had not moved. They continued to lay still as death, yet so lightly asleep that a whisper might awake them.

"She lies." Dradyn's voice was thick with rage. "They may wear the faces of their victims, but they are predators. Unless we destroy them, they will do the same to any others they come across. And I, for one, will not let this happen to another soul!"

Dradyn swung the cleaver down on the neck of the akhkharu that wore a stable boy's face. Blue flame bloomed from the corpse.

Marcellus clutched his blade as if it were his salvation. "Speak no more with my wife's tongue, fiend. I know you for what you are."

Evelina's eyes widened. "And what know you of the nature of my kind? Your wife lives, Marcellus. She and I are one. I know every bit of history between us. Every moment of our lives together. Do you remember, Marcellus? Do you remember all the years that we shared in love?"

Nyori gritted her teeth. "Don't listen to her, Marcellus!" She hefted Eymunder and advanced.

Evelina's eyes glowed like gas lamps when she turned. Dradyn gasped and stumbled against a row of casks, clutching his head. The cleaver fell from his hand.

Nyori shook her head as her mind dizzied and her vision clouded. Nothing seemed real except Evelina's face. Her voice rang in Nyori's head.

"You are the one ignorant of the truth, Shama. Did you believe that you were safe all this time? That somehow Marcellus could protect you? One of our Thralls was in the very party of Mandru that accompanied you across the Steppes. Our eyes are everywhere. There is nowhere you can go where we cannot see you. It was only a matter of time before the High Lady had you in her clutches. That time is now. See how easily I paralyze your champion? Slaying him will be child's play. Who will be around to save you then?"

Nyori pushed the voice away, focusing only on Marcellus, who stared blankly at Evelina as though struck dumb. Nyori concentrated on reaching him, focusing as she did with Eymunder.