Chapter 3: Crossing into Eldoria

We drove for hours without much talk.

Hallis sat across from me with his hands folded and his eyes mostly on the window. Twice I tried to ask him what the palace would be like. Both times he gave me short, careful answers, the kind a man gives when he doesn't want to promise anything he can't take back.

"You should hear the protection laws before we cross," he said, as the fields outside began to thin into hills. "It's required for any human entering under treaty."

"All right."

He recited them from memory, counting them off on his fingers. No human could be bitten, fed upon, or compelled without written consent. Any vampire who broke that law forfeited their life. Humans couldn't enter the Black Forest, or the chambers of the Crimson Court unless summoned. And every human under contract had to wear a warding token at all times.

He handed me a small silver disc on a cord, engraved with the same split circle from his collar. It was cold in my palm.

"It marks you as protected," he said. "Any vampire who sees it knows the law applies to you."

"And that's supposed to be enough?"

"It's the law, Miss Everhart. I won't tell you it's perfect. I'll tell you it's enforced harshly, and that matters more than people think."

I put the token round my neck anyway. My hands weren't quite steady.

The river came into view an hour later. I'd only ever seen the Ashfall from our side, a dark ribbon in the distance with the old burned bridge over it. Up close it was wider than I'd imagined, black and slow, mist curling off it though the sun was still up. A white stone bridge had been built to replace the burned one. On the far bank stood a gatehouse, torches already lit despite the daylight.

"They keep them burning all day," Hallis said. "I've never had a good answer as to why."

The carriage rolled onto the bridge, wheels echoing like drumbeats. Halfway across, I saw four figures waiting at the far end, standing so still they might have been carved.

I had never seen a vampire before.

I'd expected something out of the old stories. Fangs bared, blood on their chins, something plainly monstrous. What I saw instead were people, tall and pale, dressed in dark uniforms with red piping, faces too smooth and too calm, eyes a shade of red-brown I couldn't place. That was the worst part. They looked like people.

The carriage stopped. My heart was loud enough that I was sure they could hear it.

They probably could.

One of them approached my window, a woman with cropped black hair and a scar through one eyebrow.

"Envoy," she said. "Papers."

Hallis passed them through. She read each page without hurrying, then looked at me. Her eyes flicked to the token at my throat.

"First crossing?" she asked.

"Yes," I managed.

"Keep the token visible at all times. Don't remove it, even to sleep." She said it flatly, like a rule she'd repeated a hundred times, and yet her gaze lingered on me a moment longer than it needed to. Then she stepped back. "Proceed."

The carriage rolled forward. I let out a breath I hadn't realised I was holding.

"That was routine," Hallis said.

"Did she look at me strangely, or am I imagining it?"

"You're frightened. Fear makes people see things." He said it kindly enough, but he didn't quite meet my eyes either.

We passed through the gatehouse arch into Eldoria proper. Dark forest and low hills rolled away on either side, and far off, a smear of lights marked what had to be Bloodmoon City. The road ran alongside a stone wall, and here and there figures stood watching, servants, soldiers, a few well-dressed travellers. All of them turned to look as we passed. None of them smiled.

I tried not to stare back, and failed.

A young man near the wall wore no uniform at all, just simple dark clothes, and something about the way he held himself made him easier to look at than the rest, less like a painting and more like a person standing in the cold. He watched the carriage pass with an expression I couldn't read. Not fear. Not hunger. Something closer to sadness.

Then he was gone, swallowed by distance, and I told myself it meant nothing.

"How much further?" I asked.

"We'll reach the city gates before dark."

"And the castle?"

"Shortly after." He hesitated. "Miss Everhart, whatever you see in the city, whatever you hear, I'd ask you to keep your composure. People will be watching you as closely as you're watching them."

"Why would they watch me at all? I'm nobody."

He didn't answer straight away, and when he did, his voice had gone carefully even. "A human bride hasn't crossed this border in a generation. People are curious. That's all it is."

"That's all it is," I repeated, and it didn't sound any truer coming out of my mouth than his.

The road climbed a low ridge, and for a moment I could see the whole valley spread out below, the dark line of the forest, the pale scar of the river behind us, and ahead, rising on its hill, the first outline of towers against the darkening sky.

I touched the scar beneath my collar without meaning to. It was only a habit, nothing more, the same as always. I pulled my hand away and made myself watch the road instead.

We came down off the ridge into the shadow of the trees, and the light dimmed all at once, the way it does under a heavy roof. The horses' pace slowed. Hallis leaned forward and rapped twice on the carriage wall, a signal to the driver, and I heard him mutter something about staying on the main road.

"Is something wrong?" I asked.

"No," he said, too quickly. "Just being careful. This stretch borders the Black Forest. Best not to dawdle."

I looked out the window at the trees pressing close on either side, black and silent, and thought I saw movement deep among them, pale shapes shifting between the trunks, there and then not there.

The carriage lurched. A sound rose from somewhere in the dark ahead of us, low and long, not quite a howl and not quite a horn, and every bird in the canopy above burst into the air at once.

Hallis's hand went to the window latch.

"Down," he said. "Now.”