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“We still need to figure out what to do if we get into his world,” Solon says. “We can’t just stroll in there with Lenore.”
Kaleid puts his hand on Solon’s shoulder and gives it a squeeze. “And that’s why you’re here, big brother. You’re the brains of the operation now. You can figure that out in the meantime.”
Solon glances at me, and for once I don’t see that cool brazen confidence that he normally carries. He looks a little lost.
This isn’t going to be easy.
At eight that night, the five of us board Kaleid’s private jet and we fly northwest to where the sun literally doesn’t set. As the plane touches down on the outskirts of Tromso, a surprisingly large city surrounded by mountains that disappear into the shimmering Arctic Ocean, I can understand why the vampires have to retreat into the darker worlds during the summer months. Though the ones I know tolerate sun just fine, I’m sure that tolerance would turn into twenty-four seven annoyance in the land where the sun barely dips down between midnight and one a.m.
We get off the plane and are picked up by another mysterious driver in a large black SUV, and we’re taken out of the city, along deep blue fjords and snow-capped mountain ranges, heading east.
We don’t talk a lot during the drive, all of us caught in our own heads as the sun briefly sets and then pops right back up, the sky always a pale blue, the stars never making an appearance. Something about this all is so magical. My vampire side doesn’t like it, but my witch side, I can feel it coming alive. It wants to be with the sun, it wants to be running across streams and fields, becoming one with mother nature. There’s a wildness inside me that wants to be unleashed, and for the first time in a long time, I have this glowing feeling deep inside, coming from the well. But it isn’t darkness, it’s full of light.
Solon reaches for my hand and holds it tight, giving it a squeeze that makes my stomach flip.
Your energy is radiant, he says inside my head, gazing at me with adoration. What happened?
I don’t know, I tell him, smiling. This land. There’s something about it that’s making me feel awake inside. I can feel the magic brewing.
I can feel it too, he says. Keep it going. He eyes the rest of the vampires who are all looking out the window at the passing forests. We’re probably going to need it.
The car eventually comes to a stop down the end of a long logging road. We all get out of the car and Kaleid nods at a small path that disappears into a forest of pine.
“This way,” he says, taking the lead.
I look at Solon. “Are you picking anything up?”
He presses his lips together, face contorting in a grimace as he nods. “Yes,” he says with disdain. “I can…feel that he’s been here. It’s more than just smelling him, it’s…a knowing.”
“I told you so,” Kaleid says over his shoulder. “You’re still connected to Skarde in ways you never dreamed. Now, let’s get going so we can sever that connection for good.”
Natalia follows Kaleid, and I get behind her, Solon behind me, with Dracula at the rear. We walk single file into the woods and as the midnight sun reaches the tops of the trees, filtering into the moss and woodland bushes, I feel that energy fluttering inside me again. This is definitely a land where witches prevail. There’s so much sustenance here, it’s flowing through me.
We walk through the woods like this for at least a couple of hours, the sweet smell of the pine filling my soul, the sunlight giving me power where it seems to drain the rest of them a little. The well inside me feels like it’s growing larger in volume, and instead of the crescent moon I usually see reflected on the inky surface, now I see the sun. It’s almost blinding.
Suddenly I hear Solon make a surprised sound from behind me and I look over my shoulder in time to see a giant moth flutter out of the forest, heading straight for me.
I stop dead and instinctively hold out my arm, and the moth comes right for me. It’s the same death hawk moth as before, and by same, I mean the exact same one that I saw in San Francisco. I can just tell. Like Solon, I know something innately in ways I can’t explain.
The moth lands on my hand, it’s wings slowly flapping, the antennae pointed my way, curious.
“That bastard is huge,” Dracula says, and he’s coming at me, hand outstretched, ready to crush the bug against me.
Then Solon’s arm shoots out and he grabs Dracula’s wrist, stopping him at the last minute. “Don’t you fucking dare,” Solon roars at him, eyes like daggers. “That’s her familiar.”
