An angel of fire.
Giovanni wondered what Arosh would think of the legend. He wondered if he would even get to ask or whether these dark hours in the small village would be his last before he was killed by the legendary immortal.
“You will stay in my son’s house tonight, my friends. You may leave in the morning for your trek.”
Carwyn smiled and demurred. “No, no. We must travel at night. My friend’s skin condition makes it necessary to travel at night. And we only need your son to point us toward the trailhead. We will be happy to find our own way.”
Giovanni was glad he was so pale. The men had been suspicious of his ‘sunlight allergy,’ but had been more than happy to take the money for their hospitality without too many questions. As they made their way out of the small home and toward the horses they had ridden into the remote village, Carwyn and Giovanni were careful to shake hands with the men, ensuring their cooperation through subtle amnis and removing any suspicion from their minds.
“You are sure you want to go there?” Otar asked Giovanni as he saddled his packhorse.
“Yes, very sure.”
“I’m not sure what you’re looking for, but if it’s treasure, I don’t think you will find any in those mountains.”
“Do people come looking for treasure?”
The young man’s eyes held a playful kind of mischief. “Many things have been hidden in these mountains over the years. Often, they are found. More often, they are not.”
Giovanni’s mouth lifted at the corner, wondering what treasure hunters had been disappointed. In the old man’s house alone, he spotted several icons that any museum in Western Europe would love to have in their collection. Here, they hung on the walls, watching over humble families and simple meals.
“Truly, my friend”—Giovanni slapped the young man on the shoulder—“you must not worry about us. We are not here to look for anything that might bring harm to your family.”
“I’m not worried about my family, but I’ll be surprised if I see you again.”
Carwyn left the small house with a bottle of wine and a wrapped package that smelled like the flat bread they had eaten earlier. An old woman patted the vampire’s rough cheek and waved at them from the glowing door of the kitchen as they mounted their horses and followed the young man up to the trailhead.
“Leave it to you to think of your stomach, Carwyn.” Giovanni spoke in Latin, hoping the young man didn’t have any other surprises.
The vampire grinned. “If it’s my last night on earth, and I’m not in the company of a beautiful woman, then wine is the next best choice. Well, beer would be better, but wine will do.”
Giovanni chuckled and followed the soft padding of the horse in front of them. Otar led them up the western trail and into the hills. After a few miles, the young man stopped.
“This is as far as I will go with you. Keep to this trail and when you get to the dead tree line, you’ll know you’re at the right mountain. It will rise on the west side of the trail. Trust me; you won’t miss it. I have been there only once. It was during the daytime, when it is safe.”
Giovanni said, “I thought you said that no one went there.”
The young man smiled. “Only brave little boys and unhappy girls go to this mountain. The boys go during the day. The girls, at night. The boys we see again.”
Giovanni’s eyes sought Carwyn’s. What treachery was Arosh involved in? Was he feasting from the women of this small, mountain town?
Carwyn said, “Thank you, Otar.”
The young man nodded and turned his horse around. “Good luck finding whatever you’re after!”
“Thank you.”
Giovanni and Carwyn continued up the trail. It became narrower, and thick stands of forest rose on either side. Despite the peaceful surroundings, Giovanni could feel the steady thrum of energy that grew stronger the farther they traveled up the mountain.
“Do you feel it?”
Carwyn nodded. “Oh yes. These hills are… different.”
Eventually, the two vampires dismounted their horses, who were quickly becoming agitated by the crackling energy that permeated the air. Giovanni and Carwyn took their packs and strapped them on their backs before they turned the horses and shooed them away. The animals sped down the trail, and the two friends continued in silence until Carwyn started singing.
Giovanni smirked. “Really, Father? I’m trying not to think about the fact that I may never see my wife or family again, and you start a drinking song?”
“Well, it’s no use meeting somewhat certain death in a bad mood, is it?”
“I suppose you may have a point.”
“And why are you so certain that he’s going to kill us, Gio? You’ve become so cynical in your old age.”
“I’ve always been cynical. And tell me, my friend, have you ever seen two male fire vampires in the same room? The same building? The same city, for that matter?”
“Does Lan Caihe count?”
Giovanni snorted, thinking of the young, androgynous fire vampire of Penglai. “No, Lan doesn’t count.”
“Well then… no.” His mouth twisted. “That’s odd. I’ve never thought about it before. I haven’t. Not that I know many fire vampires at all.”
“There’s a reason for that.”
“Don’t get along?”
“We tend to kill each other on sight. It’s a very hard instinct to quell. Females do far better than males.”