Valyria's Arc

Chapter 2 of 2

The night after her father's confession, Valyria did not sleep. She joined him in the tower library of Nightspire Keep. Together they pulled book after book from the shelves. Candles burned low. Dawn crept gray through the narrow red windows, and still they searched for any trace of her mother. Dracula turned a brittle page. "She never told me where her people lived," he said. "I loved her, and I did not even ask." His voice was quiet. "Then there is nothing," Valyria said. "No name of a town. No family. Nothing to follow." Dracula was silent a long moment. Then he set the book down. "There is one thing," he said. "She called herself Violet. That was the name she gave me." Valyria wrote the name on a scrap of paper. Violet. It was small. It was not a place or a road. But it was a thread, and someone who knew her mother could pull it. "That is where you begin," Dracula said. "Find a person who knew her before she came to me. Say that name. They will point the way." Valyria closed her hand around the paper. For the first time since her birthday, the hole in her chest had a shape she could chase. She would leave the keep and find someone from her mother's past. Dracula watched her face change. Then he stepped close. "Close your eyes," he said. "I have something for you." "Father, this is no time for games." "Close them." His tone was gentle, almost shy. She had rarely heard it. She shut her eyes. She heard the library door open. She heard soft steps and a small, quick breathing her ears could hear anything a mile away vampire senses after all, she could smell the woods and fur and even animal blood. Then something warm and living pressed against her ankle. "Open," Dracula said. A black fox sat at her feet. Its coat was glossy and dark. One forepaw was wrapped in white cloth. Its yellow eyes fixed on her, sharp and alert. "I found it caught in a hunter's trap in the wood," Dracula said. "I freed its leg. It followed me home and would not leave." He almost smiled. "You are going out into the world alone. I did not want you to go with nothing at your side." Valyria knelt. The fox did not flinch. It leaned into her hand. She heard its heartbeat, fast and small. "Then he comes with me," she said. "South, and past. Wherever this name leads." She stood, the paper in one hand, the fox at her heel. She had a name now, and a companion, and a direction. At dawn she would ride out to find someone who had known Violet before the castle.