Ali Gamal's Arc

Chapter 4 of 7

The stone glowed on Ali's palm, then died. He had charged it at midnight in the cradle. By noon it was ash-gray and cold. He set it beside the others on the black stone desk, all burned out the same way. The problem was clear now. His stones drank the sun too fast. Any vampire who wore one would ignite before midday. He could not arm anyone until he slowed the drain. Ali carried the dead stones through the Hall of Monsters to the old blood foundry. The dark-stone machine loomed against the wall, its gold pipes cold, its glass tubes empty of red. Someone had left it running years ago. He remembered why he came. Blood held magic longer than bare stone. If he sealed each moonstone inside a blood-lacquer, the light might leak out slow instead of all at once. He worked the foundry's valves. Blood drained into a shallow gold pan. He dipped a fresh-charged stone and let the coat harden. Then he set it in the window's light and waited. The coated stone held twice as long. Better. Not enough. It still cooked through by early afternoon. "You are drowning the light," a voice said behind him. Ali turned. The White Domnitor stood in the doorway, dressed all in white, his cape trailing on the floor. He was Dracula's born son, half witch, the only vampire who fed on animals and refused human blood. He wanted vampires to live among people without killing. Ali had once given him a rite. He had not expected him here. "The blood traps the light," Ali said. "Then the sun rips it loose all at once." The White Domnitor stepped to the pan. He drew a white glow from his hand and passed it over the blood. The red thickened and turned pale at the edge. "White magic slows the burn," he said. "Fold my light into your blood. The stone will bleed its power out, not burst." Ali stared at him. "Why help me? Your kind and mine want different worlds." "We want the same sun," the White Domnitor said. "You want to arm a clan. I want vampires who do not have to kill. The day gives us both a start." Ali dipped a new stone in the whitened blood. He charged it, coated it, set it in the light. He counted the hours. Noon came. The stone held. Afternoon came. It still glowed. By dusk it faded slow and clean, spent but never burning. "It works," Ali said. "A wearer survives the whole day." The White Domnitor nodded and turned to go. "Then you can arm them now. But every coat needs my blood-light. You will need me, over and over." The door closed. Ali looked at the glowing stone. He had solved the burn-out. He had also bound his work to the one vampire every clan in Walachia wanted dead.