Kell’s Legend

FIVE
The Church of Blessed Engineers

Anukis awoke slowly, as if from a long, bad dream. She could taste blood, and two of her teeth were smashed. She reached into her mouth and plucked the tiny pieces of bone free, wincing, wanting to cry, but forcing back the piercing pain and ignoring the fire. She had more urgent matters to consider.

Coughing, Anukis sat up and opened her eyes. She was naked, wrists chained, and the room was illuminated by a dim light. However, her superior vachine eyes kicked in with a tiny background whirr of clockwork, and her eyes enhanced the ambient light. She was in a cell. It was a good cell, a clean cell; precise, and fashioned totally from metal.

Anukis looked about. The floor was steel, ridged for grip, and sporting channels no-doubt to carry away blood and the water used to sluice out the honey from the tortured. The walls were black iron, rusted in patches, the ceiling brass and set with tiny squares to allow entry for distant daylight.

Anukis stood, testing her body, checking how much damage had been done. The vachine had beat her; oh, how they enjoyed their sport, slamming the impure with fists and boots, but no teeth-no, Vashell had not allowed them to rip her apart with fangs and claws.

Not yet, anyway.

Anukis endured her savage beating; it lasted maybe an hour. She recognised it had gone on long after he had lost consciousness. Slowly, now, she checked her way through her bones, searching for breaks; there was a mild fracture in her left shoulder blade, and she winced as she rolled it, ignoring the torn and protesting muscles, the impact bruises, but going deep, analysing the pain within. One finger was snapped, on her left hand-ironically, her wedding ring finger. I suppose Vashell won’t be asking me to marry him anymore, she thought, and felt a hysterical giggle welling in her breast which she quashed savagely. No. Not here. You cannot lose your mind here. Because to lose your mind is to…

Die.

Such a simple word. An effortless concept. The natural order of all things: to live, and to die. Only the vachine were different, for they had introduced a third state with their hybrid watchmaking technology…as created by her grandfather, and refined, accelerated and implemented by her father Kradek-ka. It was a state of life which was partially removed from life; not death, no, not exactly. But only a sidestep away from the long dark journey.

Anukis realised two ribs were cracked, and she bit her tongue against the pain as she shifted her weight. She ran her hands over her naked, pale skin, up and down her legs, over her hips and belly, stroking her flanks, searching for tears in flesh and damage to muscle and tendon within. Finally, satisfied, Anukis walked around her cell, hands tracing contours on the walls and pausing, occasionally, at odd-shaped slots and sockets. These were for the mobile torture devices of the Engineers and Cardinals. She had heard of such things; but never witnessed. With a cold chill she grasped her position, and understood with clarity that her opportunity might come sooner than she realised.

Anukis moved to the cell door for analysis. It was brass, thick and very, very heavy, a solid slab with only a hand-sized portal through which to feed prisoners. Anu’s fingers traced the join between door and the metal wall-it was precise, as befitted a religion and culture of engineers and metal craftsmen.

As she stood, she heard a lock mechanism whirr and took a hurried step back. The door swung inwards, silently, and a figure was outlined. It was the athletic figure of Vashell, the light source behind him, his features hidden in darkness and shadow.

“Have you come to gloat, bastard?”

His fist lashed out, slamming Anukis’s face and dropping her to the floor. He stepped forward, and his boot smashed her face, stamped on her chest, and as she lay, stunned, bleeding, he stamped on her head.

Vashell pulled off a pair of gloves and moved, sitting on her bed, reclining a little, hands clasped around one armoured knee. He smiled, his brass fangs poking over his lower lip, and his eyes were dark, oil-filled, glittering first with resentment, then with amusement at Anukis’s pain.

She lay, wheezing, head spinning, and it took many minutes for the effects of the blows to subside. Finally, she sat up, coughed up blood which ran down her breasts and pooled in her lap, in her crotch, an ersatz moon-bleeding.

“Ten years ago we played in my father’s garden,” he said. “We ran through the long grass, and you giggled, and your hair shone in the winter sun. We walked down to the river, sat watching the savage fast waters filled with ice-melt from beneath the Black Pikes; and I held you, and you told me you loved me, and that one day we would be together.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Your memories are twisted, Vashell. It didn’t happen like that.” She coughed, holding her breast, blood staining her chin like a horror puppet. “You chased me. I struggled. I asked for you to leave me alone!”

“Liar!” he surged to his feet, face contorted into a vachine snarl. Inside his mouth, gears stepped and wheels spun.

Anu was crying as she looked up at him. “Vashell,” she said, gently, “I never said I loved you, I never loved you. You saw what you wanted to see. You pursued me for a decade, and never once did I give you reason to believe I returned your love; I was careful, because you were an Engineer Priest, and I knew to anger you would be fatal.”

Vashell subsided, and sat again, staring at her, his expression unreadable. “I loved you,” he said, simply.

“You captured me, had me beaten. Just now, you kicked me like a dog. How can you sit there and say you loved me?”

“You betrayed me!” he snarled, spittle flying from his fangs. “You made me a fucking mockery amongst the Engineers; you have undermined my authority, lowered my rank, and you sit there and wonder why I strike you? That is my right, fucker. You have earned the beating, and much, much more. You are impure. Bad blood. A Heretic. No true vachine would have led an Engineer Priest on such a pretty dance.”

“I led you nowhere! You are a fool, Vashell. Weak and stupid, brutal and savage. What could I possibly see in you to love? And you know what the worst thing is?” Her voice dropped, her face lowered, and her eyes were dark, staring up at him, submissive, subservient, and yet totally in control at the same time. “If I, a simple ill-blood, would not take you as wife, would not mother your children, then what pure-blood vachine would ever touch your corrupt and deviated shell?”

Vashell did not reply in words, only in actions. He knelt by her, looking down at her pale white flesh, her slender limbs, her feminine curves, and with his clenched fist, claws curled tight, he pounded her face again and again, and took her head in his hands and rammed it against the floor, and even as she lay, bleeding, head spinning, not even understanding what hit her so mercilessly, so he suddenly halted and rocked back on his heels, crying a little, tears on his cheeks. He leant forward, low, and kissed her smashed lips, her blood running into his mouth like the finest Karakan import; he kissed her, his tongue sliding between her lips and his hand moving down her throat, over her breasts, stroking her belly, dipping between her legs to play for a while as she lay, panting, chest rising and falling in rapid beats, and she finally coughed, eyes flickering open…

“Get off me!” she screamed, and Vashell rocked back, stood and swiftly left the cell. The door slammed shut, and Anukis was left, crying and alone, battered and bleeding, abused and frightened, on the cell floor.

Kill me now, she thought. For I am nothing more than a slave.

A female vachine entered after a day of bad dreams, and with a bowl of water and a rag, cleaned the blood from Anukis’s body with gentle strokes and soothing clucks. Anu opened her eyes, watched the vachine, an ugly specimen where the clockwork had become mildly disjointed, misaligned, and merged with the flesh of her face so that gears and cogs were openly visible against her cheeks, on her tongue, inside her bone-twisted forehead; whilst she was still vachine, it was considered vulgar to have such a show. And yet like any disease, this was totally uncontrollable.

“There you go, little lady,” said the woman.

“Thank you,” said Anukis.

“Soon have you good as new.”

“What’s your name?”

The vachine smiled. “I am Perella. I’ve been assigned by Torto, one of the five Watchmakers, to tend you during your stay.”

“Where am I?”

“The Engineer’s Palace, of course.”

Anukis groaned. When you entered the Engineer’s Palace, as one such as she, it was a rarity you left. At least, not with the same number of limbs, cogs or brain platters.

“Do not fret,” said Perella, kindly. “I’m sure everything will be all right.”

“You are kind.” Anu’s voice was stiff. “But can I ask, do you know why I’m here? I am impure. I cannot take blood-oil. I am a Heretic.” She bowed her head, accepting her shame.

“To me, you are just another vachine.” Perella smiled. “It is my understanding that your…condition, comes through no fault of your own. It’s a simple unmeshing, something over which you have no control-despite what religious fanatics might believe. Shh. Someone approaches.”

Footsteps slapped the metal walkway, and Vashell appeared. He smiled warmly at Anukis. “It is good to see you well.”

“What?” she snarled. “You beat me unconscious and arrive to make pleasantries? Go to your grave, Vashell, and enjoy the worms eating your eyes.”

Vashell made a gesture, and Perella hurried from the room. Vashell’s face darkened, and only then did she see the collar and lead he carried. He moved forward, fastened the collar around her throat and wound twin clanking chains around his gloved gauntlet. “Come with me. We’re going for a walk.”

“You would parade me naked?”

“Heretics deserve no dignity,” he said.

Anu snarled then, a vachine sound, and her fangs lengthened showing the gleam of brass. Vashell laughed, and tugged on the chains making Anukis stumble; she righted herself with difficulty, through her broken bruised frame, and he dragged her out into the corridor where the metal grille walkway dug viciously into her naked feet.

Anu’s face burned red as Vashell led her like a dog, tugging occasionally as if for his own amusement. They moved away from the prison block, and back to the hub of the Engineer’s Palace. As they approached from the prison arm so they passed more and more vachine, and several Engineers and Cardinals who stared at Anukis with distaste, some with open hatred, baring fangs in a show of aggressive challenge. Anu kept her head high, meeting the gaze of every pureblood, challenging them, snarling back with her own hatred and loathing.

At the hub central there was a high domed ceiling of brass, and a huge circular desk fashioned from a single mammoth block of silver-quartz and polished into smooth perfection, gleaming, beautiful, and sculpted with fine chisels into a thousand different scenes of vachine history, and vachine victory. Behind this circular symbol sat the bulk of the Engineers and their subordinates, Engineer Priests, working on intricate machinery, individual workstations full of delicate hand tools and machine tools, some powered by burning oil, some by the energy and pulse of silver-quartz which was mined, with great loss of life, by the albinos deep beneath the Black Pike Mountains. Silver-quartz was one of the three fabled ingredients of the vachine. The timing mechanism of a vachine’s heart; and indeed, his soul.

Vashell stopped before the huge silver bank, and grinned at the other Engineers, obviously displaying his prize with pride. The sentiment was clear; what he had failed to dominate by love and marriage, he now dominated by fear and violence. This would gain him respect after his perceived darkening at Anu’s newly discovered impure status. He had been right. She had made a fool of him.

The Engineers to a man-for they were all male-set down delicate tools with care and stood. There were nearly three hundred of them; the core of vachine society trained highly in the arts of clockwork and the magick of blood-oil. Anu’s eyes swept along the ranks, ranging across short and tall Engineers and Engineer Priests alike, all wearing silver religious insignia on their shoulders, all focused with looks of hatred at this woman, this half-pure, the daughter of one who had, once, been great. Kradek-ka. The Watchmaker.

“See?” bellowed Vashell, pulling the chains tight so his superior height caused Anu to stand up on tiptoe, straining, the veins and muscles of her throat standing out. “The one who shamed me! Now, she walks as my slave. Until I see fit to dispose of her.”

The Engineers were staring, eyes narrowed, and began to hiss, the noise filling the domed chamber as steel and brass fangs slid from jaw sheaths and they narrowed eyes at the impure; but more than that. A high-ranking impure who had shamed an Engineer Priest. This was not done.

And then, standing there, naked and chained before the Engineers, Anukis realised the full extent of her slavery. Desolation swamped her. This was not going to be a simple case of torture and execution. No. Not only Vashell’s pride and vachine honour were on trial here; the whole of the Engineer culture felt cheated, abused, despoiled, and Anu realised with a lead heart that they would force her to live as long as possible…and make her suffer humiliation, degradation, and pain greater than any impure had ever suffered.

Anu shivered, goose-bumps running along her flesh, and Vashell pulled her tight before his Engineer brethren and his fangs grew long, and suddenly a hushed silence flowed through the chamber and Vashell’s head dropped, his fangs plunging into Anu’s neck, into her artery, and he sucked out her blood and lifted her, like a ragdoll in his powerful arms as he drank her, drank her impurity, and Anu grew limp, dizzy, and lying naked in Vashell’s abusive embrace she slipped away into welcome darkness.

The rhythm danced through her. It pumped through every blood vessel, every vein, every artery, to her heart. It pumped, an echo to her own heart, a heartbeat doppelganger chasing through haemoglobin and the rainbow thick mix of blood-oil and alien blood and her mind was transfused with confusion, like a spider spinning a web over glass, and as she awoke her mouth was full of fur, her eyes sticky with blood, her ears pounding with an ocean, waves crashing a bone beach of despair and she coughed, and choked, spluttered, her eyes forced open through stickiness and she stared down at silk sheets.

Anukis coughed again, phlegm spattering the fine white silk, and she groaned, pain slamming her from every angle. She stared straight ahead, at the rock wall filled with lodes of minor silver-quartz thread, and realised with a start she was in the mountain…

She rolled, and sat up, her golden curls cascading down her back. She had been washed, shampooed, scrubbed of blood and dirt, and now she wore a light cotton gown that did little to protect her vulnerability. Her hand came up, touched her neck, caressed the dual puncture marks.

He bit me, she thought, eyes narrowing.

The ultimate disgust, from one vachine to another.

The ultimate rape. An implied and direct insult; of superior blood over toxic blood. No vachine bit another. It was not done.

Winter sunlight sleeted through long, low windows at the edge of the room, and Anukis eased her feet over the edge of the bed, feeling tender, feeling sore, feeling battered and bruised and weak. She filled up with self loathing and spat on the fine thick red carpets. “The bastard.”

She stood, trembling, limbs frail, and tottered across to a marble stand containing a brass jug. She poured herself a little water, and drank. It made her feel sick.

Before her, through the window, she could see the spread of Silva Valley. It was beautiful, serene, a pastel painting of perfect civilisation, vast and finely sculpted, a culture at its peak. Where am I? she thought, and the answer came easily enough. This was a mountain villa, and obviously belonged to Vashell’s parents. They were rich. They were Engineers. They were royalty.

The mountain villas were built at the summit of the rising city, up at the head of the valley in premium sites for exaggerated architecture, and using the mountain itself as a base. These villas overlooked the vachine world, and commanded the greatest views one could buy in Silva Valley.

Anukis stood for a while, watching the view. It was morning, and the vachine world was coming awake. She could see thousands of vachine on the streets below, buying, selling, transporting goods. If she stretched, she could just determine the bulk of the Engineer’s Palace to the left, and a curved walkway leading to a dark mouth. A steady stream of vachine queued along the snake of the path, many carrying bundles in their arms. These were inventions, or broken mechanisms they wished fixing. Some came with requests for the Engineers. Some came with information.

Anukis smoothed her hands down her cotton flanks, and thought of Shabis, her younger sister. Shabis was true vachine, no impure blood ran through her veins, greasing her cogs and wheels, and Anukis knew that even her own sister knew not of her impure nature. Only Kradek-ka had been party to the secret; and they both guarded it fervently. After all, if word got out, she would forfeit with her life.

Anukis smiled, for what felt the first time in a century. She thought of Shabis, young Shabis, only sixteen years old, long beautiful golden curls, taller than Anukis, more slender, her limbs delicate and regal. Her eyes were dark, her face a little more pointed; she was a stunning Vachine Goddess!

The smile fell from Anu’s face. If Shabis still lived…

There came the tiniest of clicks. Vashell stood there. He wore full battle armour, and a dazzling array of weapons. His boots were polished, his head held high, his face and eyes unreadable. Then he smiled, and moved forward, standing beside Anukis to stare out over Silva Valley and the jewelled contents of the vachine empire.

“I cannot believe it came to this,” said Vashell. His voice sounded, genuinely, hurt.

“Go away, and die quietly,” whispered Anukis.

Vashell turned, and took her hands in his own. He held her gently, but there was no illusion there for Anukis; she knew damn well how brutal he could be. His gentility was an affectation. His humbleness a facade.

“If you had asked me our futures three months ago, I would have been so sure, so adamant, that we would be wed, and living a life of rich royalty. We were the perfect match, Anukis.”

“You abused me,” she hissed, looking at him then, her eyes flashing dark. “In front of the Engineers and Priests! You took my blood, you humiliated me, you beat me. You are a canker, Vashell; maybe not visibly so, not in the open flesh, but deep in your heart your clockwork has deformed and twisted, and even now has eaten that part of you which was human.”

Vashell stood, stunned by the insult. To call a vachine a canker was…unthinkable.

He took a deep breath, and Anukis watched him master his anger; his fury.

“I can make this right,” he said.

“An utter impossibility.”

“I still love you.”

Anukis stood, and turned back to face the Silva Valley. Still, Vashell held her hands and she felt his grip grow tight, holding her, refusing to allow her a simple freedom.

“The only person you love is yourself,” said Anukis.

“Listen to me.” There was urgency in his voice. “You were caught red-handed with the Blacklipper king himself. You were witnessed drinking Karakan Red. We had been staking out the lair for months, tracing Preyshan’s suppliers-and then you stumbled in screaming out your impure status. It was all I could do to stop the Engineers slaughtering you where you stood…and believe me, I put my own life on the line in those few moments out there under the Brass Docks. Since then, I have been observed, closely watched by the Watchmakers to see how I’d react, to see how I treated you. Don’t you understand, Anukis? If I had not behaved the way I did, both our lives would have been forfeit! We would never have escaped the claws of Silva Valley! But now…now I have a plan. ”

“Explain to me your plan.” Her voice was low. Still she did not face Vashell. Her anger went beyond speech.

“Since the humiliation inside the Engineer’s Palace, it is believed I have broken you, and brought you here as my sexual plaything, until I grow tired, until I murder you and send your corpse back to the Engineer’s Palace for dissection. Now, their watch has grown lax. I feel the trails of blood-oil magick weaken with every passing second, every heartbeat. Within a few days we will be free, and can leave this place. Together. If you so wish.”

“What of Shabis?”

“She will come with us! You must believe me, Anukis. It has all been an act! I love you dearly; more than life itself. I have been working to secure our freedom, to sneak us from under the vachine net.”

Anukis turned, and looked into his eyes, and chewed her lip.

“You mean this?”

“Yes,” he said. “Kiss me.”

“What?”

“Kiss me. Show me what I am missing.”

Anukis frowned, and it felt wrong, Vashell’s words felt wrong and they came crashing down inside her brain. Why would a High Born Royal, an Engineer Priest with all the makings of earning a future rank of Watchmaker give up everything for her? Her own lack of self-esteem bit her, and bit her hard.

“I don’t know whether to trust you,” she said, her voice low, trembling. “You did terrible things to me, Vashell. You tore out my heart, you humiliated me; you took away what vestiges of pride still remained!”

“No.” He shook his head. “Your pride was already gone. I saved your life. It’s that simple. You know I speak the truth. You know how we are watched. And now, I can save both you, and your sister, if you only trust me. You took that physical beating from me; and I was observed. It was an evil necessity. Now I have only love for you.” He moved close, shushing her, lips tickling her ear, and slowly his mouth moved around and he kissed her and his kiss was gentle, loving, his hands running through her hair, gently, over her body and she squirmed under his grip, a mixture of lust, and love, and confusion, and hatred, all running and combining with her fear and uncertainty and he kissed her, and she kissed him back, and she fell into him, fell into his world and he hugged her, his face over her shoulder, and his fangs eased free of brass jaw sheaths and Vashell closed his eyes, face a rapture of love and contentment.

He came to her that night, and in the darkness and the glow of molten lanterns she loosened her cotton robe which slipped from perfect, bruised shoulders. Vashell stood, his eyes wide, basking in her beauty, basking in her slender vachine warmth, and he stepped forward and his hands moved out, rested lightly on her lips and she smiled up at him, and he smiled back, and love was in his eyes as he gave a low growl of lust and pushed her back to the bed. He kissed her, his hands on her flesh, his claws tracing grooves down her curves, and Anukis moaned as she gave herself to him, fucked him, partially from want, partially to save her life, and to save her sister, and confusion raged through her and only later did she wonder about the love in his eyes. Was it his, or simply the reflection of her own?

Anukis had a dream. She dreamt of Kradek-ka. He was tall, and powerful, a noble Watchmaker in full vachine battledress. He stood over her, then sat down, cross-legged before her, his swords scraping the floor. A fire burned, an old wood fire, traditional, smoke trailing embers into the air. Flames glittered in his swirling gold eyes.

“Anukis?” he said gently.

“Father!” She fell into his arms and he held her, his powerful arms encircled her and she cried, cried tears of gold and blood, and she knew then that everything would be fine, the world would be good, and Anukis would not have to face the horrors of the world alone. “I’ve missed you so much, Daddy. I’ve been so alone and so terrified without you.”

“You need to listen to me, girl.” His voice was gentle, despite his size. “I am in…a curious place. I think I may be dead.”

“How did you come to my dreams?”

“I do not know, girl. What I do know is your position. They have found out, yes?”

“It was horrible,” she wept.

He wiped away her tears. Firelight glinted on his silver fangs. Out of all the vachine, every single one of the eighty thousand strong population in Silva Valley, Kradek-ka was the only creature who could take pure silver. Normally, silver would disrupt every other element of clockwork, twist every ounce of silver-quartz, dislocate every heartbeat rhythm; but not with Kradek-ka. He was a mystery to the Engineers. A conundrum to other Watchmakers, and even to the Patriarch Himself.

“I have advice for you.”

“Tell me what to do.”

“Marry Vashell.”

“What?”

“It is your greatest chance of survival. And I want to see you live, Anukis. I want to see you live so very, very much.”

She awoke, and the room was warm; it smelt of oil. It smelt of the narcotic, blood-oil.

Vashell was there, naked beside the bed. His erection was magnificent to behold, his balls inset with tiny gears, the smallest of spinning toothed cogs which ground and whirred, and all reflecting the light from a hundred burning candles.

Anukis lay back, panting, her golden curls highlighting her pale frame.

“I wanted you so much,” he said.

“I love you, Vashell,” she said, remembering the fear in her father’s eyes. The lie tripped easily from her tongue. It was a lie of existence. A lie of endurance. A lie of survival; for if she survived, she could find her father, and save her sister.

“And I you.” He touched her, his hands on her breasts, her hips, sliding smooth into her slick cunt, and she closed her eyes and allowed him to take her, again, and again, and again, the only sound his panting, and the tiny tick tick tick of his clockwork inside her.

“Shabis!”

Shabis ran across the room, bare feet curling in thick carpets, and fell into Anu’s arms. “Nuky,” she said, nuzzling her older sister, and they held each other, breathing one another’s natural scent, feeling the flow of sisterly love, of a bond greater than all else.

Shabis pulled back, tears coursing her cheeks. “How are you?”

Anu glanced to Vashell over her shoulder. “I am well. I am in love! How are you? Have the Engineers harmed you? Are you well?”

“I am fine,” laughed Shabis. “I have been treated like royalty. Spoilt, really. You look happy, Anukis; although battered a little.” She glanced over her shoulder at Vashell. “He told me about you, kept me informed about your health. I am so glad you two are in love! It will be a marriage made perfect, and your children will be beautiful!” She giggled, pulling Anukis to the bed. She turned, and waved Vashell away. He departed.

“Truly, have they looked after you?”

“They have,” said Shabis, and kissed Anu’s cheek. “And you?”

Anu’s face went hard. “I have been condemned, Shabis. I have been treated worse than any dog, worse than any canker.” She pulled away, stood, walked to the splendid view. It had begun to snow in Silva Valley, and a thick fall muffled the world.

“What do you mean?”

Shabis was behind her. Holding her. Concern shone in her eyes.

“Vashell beat me. He hurt me, Shabis. He hurt me bad. He paraded me like a slave before the Engineers. Then he…he took my blood.” She heard a hiss of in-taken breath. “He drank from me, Shabis. He drank from my veins, made my impurity whole, for all to see. Then he…he took me. Physically. Carnally. I had little choice if I wanted to save both of us.”

She fell silent, brooding, watching the snow. Somehow, Silva Valley had again lost its beauty, its charm. It was a perfect pastel painting, framed by silver-quartz and yet to Anukis, now, after everything that had happened, it was a vision of hell. Worse. Of a canker-riddled cancer hell.

“What will you do?” Shabis’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

“I have a plan!” Anu took Shabis, and shook her with passion. “I will kill Vashell. And we will flee. We will leave Silva Valley, we will leave this world for good. Cross the Black Pike Mountains; make a new life.”

“But what of the vachine?” said Shabis, softly. “What if the clockwork becomes faulty? Who will fix us?”

“I have some skill,” said Anu, eyeing her sister, sensing the fear, the lode of cowardice that ran through her like an earthquake fault in the world mantle. “Don’t you understand, Shabis, they killed our father! We are alone now. Alone in the world.”

“Killed…no! They did not! He still lives! He is on a journey under Black Pike, he will be back in a few months.”

“And you believe them?”

“Why should I not?”

“What else have they told you?”

“Nothing! Anu, you’re frightening me. Stop it!”

“I’m sorry, little one. Sweet Shabis, we must leave this place. I want you to be ready. Do you understand?”

“Yes. I understand.”

Anu shook her, and Shabis’s hair fell, tousled. “You’re hurting me!”

“This is serious, Little One. Do you understand?”

“Yes! Anu, yes!”

“Good.”

There came a hiatus. Shabis played with her hair, and they both watched the snow. Eventually, Shabis said, “Anu?”

“Sister?”

“How will you kill him? Vashell, I mean?”

“I have a secret weapon.”

“What is that?”

Anu’s eyes glowed dark. “You will see.”

Night had fallen. Anu was awoken by a savage blow across her face, which broke her nose and left her choking on a gush of blood down her throat. She rolled instinctively, momentarily blinded, covering her face, her claws out and slashing a wild vicious arc, but connecting with nothing. After a few moments she could see, and she stood, naked, blood covering her breasts, to see Vashell holding a pick-axe helve. It was stained with her blood. His eyes shone.

“What is this?” she snarled, fear touching the edges of her heart.

“Show me your secret weapon! Come on, Anukis, show me how you intend to kill me! Show me now.”

Anu backed away, and Vashell moved around the bed.

“Where’s Shabis? What have you done with my sister?”

“Shabis?” Vashell smiled, and from the gloom, in the glow of the candles, Shabis appeared. She was smiling, a broad smile. Her hands came up, rested, interlacing over Vashell’s shoulder. Her hips were staggered, her stance commanding.

“What are you doing?” said Anu. She felt understanding flood from her soul.

“Vashell is mine, bitch. He will marry me. He told me what you did to him; how you tried to poison him with your impure blood. You are a canker, Anu, diseased, toxic, not a true vachine. You will rot in hell.”

Anu stood, mouth open, pain pounding through her head, her crushed nose stinging, and stared with utter, total disbelief at the scene before her. Her jaws clacked shut, and she watched Vashell turn, kiss Shabis, sliding his tongue into her mouth.

“He will never marry you,” said Anu, eventually.

“Liar! We are betrothed. The Watchmakers will conduct the ceremony in three weeks’ time. You lied about him taking you; you lied to make him more evil in my mind, so when the time came for you to kill him I would help. Vashell is filled with honour; he would never stoop to fuck an impure.” She snarled the word, fangs ejecting a little. Her dark eyes were narrowed, and Anu could not believe what she was seeing. She could not comprehend the hatred emanating from her sister. She did not understand.

Vashell ran his hand down Shabis’s flank, stroking her, and said, softly, “Kill her, Shabis. Kill Anukis.”

Growling, Shabis ejected claws and fangs with tiny slithers of steel and brass. She dropped to a crouch, and moved around the bed, eyes narrowed and fixed on her sister, face full of hatred, her tongue licking lips in the anticipation of fresh blood…

“No,” said Anu, voice near hysteria. “Shabis! Don’t do this! Vashell lies!”

“Spoken just like an impure,” snapped Shabis, and with a feral vachine snarl, leapt at her lifeblood.