only individuals who share a certain level of trust would deign to feed in close proximity. Mostly because of the vulnerability that comes with energy thrall. Sometimes that demonstration of trust is used as a means of forging a bond or alliance. It is akin to swearing an oath.”
“The strength of energy thrall varies depending on the level of feeding,” Jhez says, glancing down to share a look with me.
“So the less they feed in a given setting, the lower the level of implicit trust.” It makes sense that way, so hopefully I have it right. “Are we tracking properly?” Jhez and I turn to Garthelle expectantly, and he nods. “What else?”
“None of my guests will be traveling alone. They always have an entourage in tow. Lesser family relations, however distant. Their own collection of Nightwalkers as well. Observing with whom they share their resources is a good way to gauge the nature of their relationships. Sometimes lesser family members will be traded—gifted servitude for a predetermined period of time. Similar to apprenticeship, if you will.”
“So the only persons we’ll be offered to are those you possess an existing relationship with?” I fold my arms and tug on my bottom lip. “That feels self-defeating.”
The vampire shakes his head. “As host, I’m extended certain gratuities. And a level of diplomacy is required of me. In other words, I’m expected to provide unbiased entertainment to everyone. The two of you will have ample opportunity to observe each guest at least once.”
Lovely. I’m looking forward to it. I glance up at Jhez, who blows a soft sigh, arching her eyebrows.
I know that expression all too well. She’s looking forward to this even more than I am.
As it turns out, I was wrong in my assumption that Garthelle would entertain his guests at his flat. His formal residence is a massive stone construct on private grounds, crouching on a hillside overlooking the heart of the metropolis. It brings to mind pictures of castles in my childhood storybooks. No soaring spires piercing the sky or anything like that, but the embattlements are there.
As the limousine breaks through the tree line and crawls up the sinuous drive, the structure presents an imposing profile. It feels like a stone dragon nestled into the side of the earth, one who could at any moment decide to rouse from its nap, uncoil, and take to the sky. Perhaps that’s why, as I step out of the vehicle and wait for Jhez to join me, I feel compelled to whisper.
“Did you know this place was even here?” I hiss the question in her ear when she stops at my side to stare at the stone behemoth.
When she nods, I stare at her in disbelief. She turns to me, the beginnings of a frown tugging at her lips. “Only vaguely, but I remember references to Dragulhaven from . . .” Her sentence trails off and Jhez turns her gaze back to the building towering before us. “Years ago.”
Though I’ve no notion of what she’s alluding to, her tone doesn’t do anything pleasant for my nerves. With a quavering sigh, I grab her hand and give it a squeeze before heading for the entry. Jhez doesn’t resist, but there’s a distinct lack of willingness in her demeanor. Makes two of us. Guess I just have more guts than her. Or a weaker sense of self-preservation.
Polished heavy wooden doors groan faintly as they swing inward at our approach. A gust of air from within wafts past, carrying traces of incense, spices, strains of instrumental music, and muted voices.
The foyer’s sole source of light is a chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling, and the fixture threatens to overwhelm the castle’s architectural design. Obviously, whoever was responsible for the decor didn’t carry it out with the intention of historically accurate restoration. While certainly noteworthy, the chandelier is nothing short of gaudy.
A blatant pronouncement of the wealth in residence. Here there be dragons.
It doesn’t bode well for the décor
“The strength of energy thrall varies depending on the level of feeding,” Jhez says, glancing down to share a look with me.
“So the less they feed in a given setting, the lower the level of implicit trust.” It makes sense that way, so hopefully I have it right. “Are we tracking properly?” Jhez and I turn to Garthelle expectantly, and he nods. “What else?”
“None of my guests will be traveling alone. They always have an entourage in tow. Lesser family relations, however distant. Their own collection of Nightwalkers as well. Observing with whom they share their resources is a good way to gauge the nature of their relationships. Sometimes lesser family members will be traded—gifted servitude for a predetermined period of time. Similar to apprenticeship, if you will.”
“So the only persons we’ll be offered to are those you possess an existing relationship with?” I fold my arms and tug on my bottom lip. “That feels self-defeating.”
The vampire shakes his head. “As host, I’m extended certain gratuities. And a level of diplomacy is required of me. In other words, I’m expected to provide unbiased entertainment to everyone. The two of you will have ample opportunity to observe each guest at least once.”
Lovely. I’m looking forward to it. I glance up at Jhez, who blows a soft sigh, arching her eyebrows.
I know that expression all too well. She’s looking forward to this even more than I am.
As it turns out, I was wrong in my assumption that Garthelle would entertain his guests at his flat. His formal residence is a massive stone construct on private grounds, crouching on a hillside overlooking the heart of the metropolis. It brings to mind pictures of castles in my childhood storybooks. No soaring spires piercing the sky or anything like that, but the embattlements are there.
As the limousine breaks through the tree line and crawls up the sinuous drive, the structure presents an imposing profile. It feels like a stone dragon nestled into the side of the earth, one who could at any moment decide to rouse from its nap, uncoil, and take to the sky. Perhaps that’s why, as I step out of the vehicle and wait for Jhez to join me, I feel compelled to whisper.
“Did you know this place was even here?” I hiss the question in her ear when she stops at my side to stare at the stone behemoth.
When she nods, I stare at her in disbelief. She turns to me, the beginnings of a frown tugging at her lips. “Only vaguely, but I remember references to Dragulhaven from . . .” Her sentence trails off and Jhez turns her gaze back to the building towering before us. “Years ago.”
Though I’ve no notion of what she’s alluding to, her tone doesn’t do anything pleasant for my nerves. With a quavering sigh, I grab her hand and give it a squeeze before heading for the entry. Jhez doesn’t resist, but there’s a distinct lack of willingness in her demeanor. Makes two of us. Guess I just have more guts than her. Or a weaker sense of self-preservation.
Polished heavy wooden doors groan faintly as they swing inward at our approach. A gust of air from within wafts past, carrying traces of incense, spices, strains of instrumental music, and muted voices.
The foyer’s sole source of light is a chandelier suspended from the domed ceiling, and the fixture threatens to overwhelm the castle’s architectural design. Obviously, whoever was responsible for the decor didn’t carry it out with the intention of historically accurate restoration. While certainly noteworthy, the chandelier is nothing short of gaudy.
A blatant pronouncement of the wealth in residence. Here there be dragons.
It doesn’t bode well for the décor
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