Giovanni remained motionless. He had no idea what had just happened. Arosh, as if reading his mind, strode over and placed a hand on his ancient rival’s shoulder. Kato flinched under his touch, but turned a beatific smile on Arosh, as well.
“You have enough. Excellent. Otherwise you would be dead. Kato smells his blood. He reacts to most strangers like this, which is why your friend should not approach.” Arosh was almost whispering, as he placed a hand on Kato’s forehead and stroked his friend’s hair back with the gentlest of touches. “But you are of his direct line, and he smells his blood in you. This is why you are not in danger. I carry his blood as well, though it is not as strong.”
“What has happened to him? What is this?”
“This, son of Andreas, is the result of curing bloodlust. Your grand-sire’s amnis is shattered. Barely functioning. His body is as vital as it ever was, but the brilliant mind that was nurtured by the fifth element is broken. He is a creature of instinct now.”
Giovanni was reeling. “How is this possible?”
“Come with me, and I will tell you.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Svaneti, Republic of Georgia
November 2012
“Pride, my friends, is the deadliest of fires. While other flames burn the surface, pride burns from within. It works its way from the heart until it consumes you. And like any fire, it will eat its prey until it is smothered or quenched.”
They were sitting in Arosh’s private rooms. A low fire burned in an earthen fireplace, and silk-covered couches encircled it. The panels of the ceiling had been drawn back, and the night sky was cold and clear. Smoke drifted up to be carried away by a breeze as Giovanni, Arosh, and Carwyn sat around the fire, drinking the sweet red wine the ancient fire vampire poured.
“My three friends and I were more proud than any other immortals who walked the Earth. We had reason to be. We were kings and queens. Civilizations existed at our pleasure. And in our arrogance, perhaps we forgot…” A smile lifted the corner of Arosh’s mouth. “We were not gods.”
Giovanni stared at him. “How did it happen?”
“I will go back to the beginning. I do not know all that Ziri has told you. He only wrote that I should answer any questions you had about the elixir.”
“How did it come to be? What has it done to my grand-sire?”
Arosh took a sip of wine. “I was the first to reach Kufa at the beginning of the eighth century as the Romans counted, but Kato followed soon after. The city was becoming rich with ideas. Innovation. An interesting atmosphere in a region that hadn’t seen such enlightenment for too long. Years later, I was introduced to the alchemist. Jabir was from Khorasan, a province in Persia where I had kept a home for hundreds of years. I was familiar with his people.”
Arosh’s dark eyes were amused. “Jabir was so bright for a human. Our discussions quickly progressed to the point where I confided in him my true nature. I suspected he was trustworthy. And if he proved not to be?” Arosh shrugged. “He was easily disposed of. Kato joined us in our discussions soon after I revealed myself. Jabir was enthralled with us both.”
Giovanni asked, “What of Ziri and Saba?”
“They arrived years after we did. Ziri already had a home in the area with some distant members of his clan. Saba lived as my wife while we were there. She chafed at the ridiculous restrictions of that culture regarding their women, but tolerated it for us.”
“So…” Carwyn cleared his throat. “You and Saba were…”
Arosh smiled. “Saba takes whatever lover she chooses. The four of us have always been close, but she only tolerates me for brief periods.” His smile widened. “We are too much alike and value our independence too fiercely.”
Giovanni said, “But you were all in Kufa with Geber—Jabir at the end of the eighth century?”
“Yes. The alchemist was doing fascinating experiments regarding the artificial creation of life. Ridiculous premise now, but at the time, it was a serious study. Jabir was the first who saw the possibilities that combining our blood could have.”
Carwyn reached for the bottle of wine. “How did he get the idea to begin with?”
“He saw how we healed each other. Kato and Saba had been fighting with daggers one night—she has always had a fondness for them—and Ziri and I were sharing wine with the alchemist. Kato managed to put a slice in Saba’s face.” Arosh laughed. “She was so irritated with him! Of course, he simply bit his tongue and cleaned the wound for her without a thought. Jabir noticed it and became fascinated.”
“With the healing properties?” Carwyn asked.
“Yes. He began interviewing us. Making many notes about us. Our blood. How we healed. How we fed. He asked so many questions. Jabir noted four unique properties of vampire blood. Our blood healed, sustained life, and sated hunger. But it could not be consumed by humans. He tried, and it made him quite ill.”
Giovanni held his glass out for more wine, and Arosh filled it. “And he combined the blood?”
“Yes, we already knew that blood of the same element did little to heal a serious injury. The four of us had discovered that through the centuries, but we had never made the connection between that fact and our elemental affinity.”
Carwyn’s eyes narrowed on Arosh. “What do you mean?”
“Jabir concluded that the dominant element in immortal blood—fire for me, earth for you—is what gives us our strength. To feed our own strength does little to repair our bodies, but to strengthen the other elements within us? That is what gave further strength and healing.”
Carwyn said, “I’m still not understanding this.”
Arosh leaned toward the fire. “Think, holy man! Blood contains all four elements. My blood has the strongest heat, the fire. Yours has the strongest substance, that is what enables you to control the earth as you do. Samson’s blood connects him to the air. Kato’s to the water. I have no need to feed the fire within my blood—”
“Because you are strongest in fire,” Giovanni said. “As I am. So to strengthen ourselves, the blood of a different element helps more.”
“It is all about balance. As much as it may wound our pride, immortals are stronger together, sharing our strength, than we are in isolation.”
“Four elements together,” Giovanni murmured. “Fire, earth, air, and water. Arosh, Saba, Ziri, and Kato.”
Arosh nodded toward him. “Giovanni, Carwyn, Tenzin, and Beatrice.”
He was reminded of Zhang’s cryptic statement months before. ‘Balance, Giovanni Vecchio. Balance is the key.’
Giovanni looked up. “So, you theorized it would work for healing and, according to Ziri, it did. He found a formula to stabilize the blood for human consumption. How did you make the connection to curing bloodlust?”
“It was my idea. I guessed that if a human was strengthened by this elixir, it was possible that their blood—treated blood—might cure our insatiable hunger.”
Carwyn asked, “Did you really care at that point? None of you must have had to feed very often. As ancient as you all are, why did it matter?”
A grim smile crossed Arosh’s lips. “Pride.”
Giovanni nodded. “As strong as we are, we still need humans. Whatever disdain some may hold for humanity after hundreds or even thousands of years, we all still need them to survive.”
“Yes.” Arosh’s shoulders seemed to droop. “Only a cure for the sun is more greatly desired, but there is no hope of that. Trust me, many have tried. And will continue to try. It will not happen. Whatever god created us designed us to be mortal. The very source of this world’s energy will kill us within minutes. Even the oldest immortal cannot avoid this sentence.”
Carwyn said, “But you thought you could cure bloodlust?”
Arosh smiled at him, but turned to Giovanni. “You waited long to feed from one of my women. Tell me, my friend, do you and your mate exchange blood?”
Giovanni frowned and answered, “We do.”
“And you both
feed from humans, as well.”
“Yes, but…”
Arosh cocked an eyebrow. “Not as much as before, is it? While you may have needed to feed every week before you took your wife’s immortal blood, now you can go several weeks, a month even. How does human blood taste to you now?”
He shrugged. “Pleasant, but weak.”
“Not like your mate’s blood.”
“No, her blood…” Giovanni cleared his throat and tried to rid the longing from his voice. “It is the sweetest wine. Nothing compares to it.”
Arosh’s eyes danced. “Some of what you say is sentiment, but some is not. Your wife drinks the blood of humans. You drink blood from her. In her blood, both bloods sustain you. But what if that human blood was even more strengthened by this immortal elixir? What then? Could it sustain us even longer? Could it cure us, even?”
Giovanni’s eyes narrowed and his energy snapped in the air. “Can it? Ziri said that Kato drank the blood of his human and look what it has done to him. How did this happen, Arosh? What did Geber miss? What did you miss?”
Arosh’s nostrils flared, but just then, a gust of winter wind blew from outside and cooled the room. “We all missed it. The elixir worked. It cured the humans—unfortunately, its effects were short-lived.”
Carwyn shook his head. “So, even the successful cases that Geber documented—”
“Died. Yes. The effects of the elixir lasted anywhere between two to five years by our best estimates. Then, whatever illness had afflicted the human came back. Stronger than ever.”
“Kato’s lover?”
Arosh sighed. “Kato had taken blood from Fahdil two years after the elixir was tested and appeared successful. As proud as we all were with ourselves, we were still hesitant to drink from one of the test subjects. But Kato was too attached to this human. When the young man grew ill, it affected him. He gave the elixir to Fahdil and then drank from him. But, though we had reservations, none of us thought it could really be harmful. After all, it was only a potion! And made from our own blood. Where could the real danger be?”
Giovanni tensed. “You said something in the room with Kato. You said something about the fifth element. What were you talking about?”
Arosh’s dark eyes glistened in the fire. “Something our pride did not see. We were never meant to conquer the bloodlust, son of Andreas. We only looked at what was seen, not that which is unseen. By focusing on the earthly elements, we forget that which truly animates us. The energy that sustains our immortality.”
It was a whisper on Giovanni’s lips. “Amnis.”
Arosh’s mouth lifted in the corner. “Energy. Current. It has been called many things. Magic. Aether. Your holy man would call it the soul. Others in the East would call it the void, that which is not there, but permeates all things.” Arosh stared into the crackling fire. “Whatever you call it, in immortals, it manifests as the energy that animates our bodies.” He reached out a hand and tossed the flames higher. “It lets us control our element. It lets us manipulate the thoughts and memories of humankind. It is our weapon. Our shield. And, as I have learned, it preserves our mind. This ‘amnis,’ as you call it, is the fifth element that we all share. And no elixir can replace it.”
“So blood sustains not just our bodies, but our minds and our souls, as well,” Carwyn murmured. “And we must draw it from humanity.”
Arosh nodded. “Or animals. As many, including you, have learned, the wild things of this world do carry a spark, but it is not as strong. You must drink more often.”
“And preservation kills it,” Giovanni added. “That is why we grow weak if we drink too much preserved or stored blood.”
Arosh nodded again. “We must feed on the living to sustain our bodies, but even more importantly, our minds and energy.”
“So by killing the bloodlust—“
“We found a way to preserve the body, but the elixir of life cannot preserve or sustain the mind. Though Kato does not grow physically weak, his amnis is almost gone. And that is why he operates on instinct.”
Carwyn sat up and leaned forward. “So, when Kato drank from his lover it… what? It broke him? It damaged his amnis past the point of repair? Why couldn’t he just start drinking human blood again? Wouldn’t that have fixed it?”
Arosh shrugged. “He has no desire for it. Any blood he drinks I must force on him. And I do not know why it no longer feeds his amnis when he drinks human blood. Perhaps we may never know, but yes, it has broken his amnis somehow.”
Giovanni said, “But his mind isn’t completely gone. He did recognize me. He does still have some consciousness.”
“He does now.” Arosh took a deep breath and refilled his glass. “When I first found him, it was not so.” He took another sip of wine. “Kato stayed in Kufa with Fahdil long after the rest of us had left. Ziri was the first to leave the city. Saba left. Eventually, I did, as well. I went north to my home in Persia. I did not know about Kato’s decline for several years. His energy—his amnis, as you call it—was very strong. It sustained him, but it could not maintain his mind forever. When Fahdil finally contacted me, it was because his own health was failing. The human had protected Kato as well as he could, but he knew he was dying. When I arrived back in Kufa, Fahdil was dead, and Kato had been locked in a windowless room.” Arosh frowned at the memory. “I was confused. Why was my friend confined? What chamber could even hold him? When I opened the door, I understood.”
Carwyn asked, “What had happened to him?”
Arosh’s eyes furrowed in pain. “Kato was crouched in a corner of the room. He growled at me, his oldest friend, but then cringed from the sound of his voice. He flew at me like an animal, but fell back in pain when I touched him. It was when I touched him that I realized... His amnis was almost gone. He had no shield from his senses. The slightest gust of air frayed his skin. A whisper hurt his ears. He was as a newborn vampire without any shield. Water was the only thing that soothed him.”
“So his blood still connected him to his element…”
“But he had no control of it. Not as he had before.”
Carwyn said, “So that is why he stays in the bath.”
“Yes. The water still protects him from some of his senses, so he is most comfortable there. Back in Kufa, I immediately sent for Saba. She and I had argued before she left and she was angry with me, but that was typical for us. I wrote her and told her to gather Jabir’s notes and come to my home in Persia. She is the oldest of us and the most skilled in healing. I hoped that she would know how to cure him.”
“But she didn’t?”
He shook his head. “She had some ideas. From the beginning, Saba was most reluctant to drink from the elixired humans, though she never said why. Perhaps some ancient instinct warned her where our reason and intellect did not. We finally realized that Kato’s body remained vital, but the human blood we forced on him did nothing for his mind. It was then that we tried our own blood. Since human blood did nothing, we hoped that immortal blood would help heal his mind. After all, Saba and I were both very powerful, very rich in amnis.”
“Did it?” Carwyn asked. “If human blood no longer fed his amnis, did vampire blood?”
“It did help some.” Arosh nodded. “He was less aggressive and seemed to have some recognition of us. You saw him with Giovanni earlier. It was like that. So, we tried blood of other elements. I tried giving him Samson’s blood, but it showed no improvement. I found other vampires. Older ones. I killed them if they refused. Drained them of life in the hopes that it would do something for my friend. It didn’t matter. Their blood did nothing. Finally, it was Saba who suggested that it was Kato’s own blood in us that had helped him the first time.”
Giovanni lifted his eyes from the fire. “His own blood?” His eyes darted toward Carwyn’s and he could see the expression in his friend’s eyes sharpen. “You mean that his own blood did revive his amnis? Restart him, in some way? Is his sire—”
“Kato’s sire is no more.
We suspected, as you do, that the untainted blood that had sired him could heal him. Remake him in some way. It only existed faintly in those he had exchanged with, like Saba and me, but we had one other hope. If his own blood in us could heal him, then the blood of his direct line could, as well.”
Carwyn broke in again. “So, since Lucien’s amnis is damaged—dying, as it seems it is—if we could find Saba, his mother, he could be healed?”
“I believe he could, yes. Has he tried to contact her?”
“He has, but…” Carwyn shrugged helplessly.
Arosh nodded. “She appears when she wants. I know this better than any other.”
“But Kato had a son,” Giovanni said. “My father. Did he have any other children?”
“None living. Your father was the only living child of his line, and at the time, he had sired no children. His blood would be undiluted and strong. He was our best hope to heal our friend. Kato had cut Andreas off years before, so I was the one who sent for him.”
Giovanni let out a measured breath. “So, that is the favor you asked of Andros. His blood.”
Arosh leaned forward. “I invited him to my home in Persia. I asked him for this favor. I never dreamed he would refuse. I considered killing him and taking his blood, but who knew if one ingestion would be effective? Saba and I had given Kato our blood many times over a period of months. But your father was unwilling.” The ancient leaned back and shook his head. “I should have kept him captive. I thought Kato would regain his strength as time passed, and I didn’t want the irritation of Andreas as my captive. He was annoying and rather surprisingly powerful.”
“So you took Kato away and asked Ziri and Saba to tell the world you had killed each other.”
“The last thing I wanted was Andreas to come back and try to assassinate his father. I wanted to give Kato time. I believed, in my arrogance, that no affliction could weaken my friend for long. After all, he had been as strong as I was! Surely, he would heal.”