A Dawn of Strength

“It’s empty,” she said, lighting up one of the lanterns fixed to the wall.

I walked inside after her and looked around the room. It was about the same size as the one we’d just left. There was a chair in one corner and three single mattresses spread out on the floor.

“Perfect,” she said, sighing and lowering herself onto one of the mattresses. She patted the one next to her, indicating that I do the same.

I flopped down onto it, spreading out my legs and looking up at the dark stone ceiling. Vivienne did the same, resting her hands over her stomach. Now I just had to hope that Vivienne would eventually grow tired enough to fall asleep.

“Have you and Uncle Xavier decided what you’ll name the baby if it’s a girl?” I asked, running a hand gently against the side of her belly.

She nodded, her face lighting up. “We talked about it on the journey back here. If we have a girl, we both love Aurora.”

“Aurora,” I repeated, listening to the name roll off my tongue. “I love it! And if you have a boy?”

Vivienne smirked. “Xavier and I had a disagreement on that. He likes Leo, while I love Isaac… Which do you prefer?”

“Leo Novak. Isaac Novak. Hmm. I gotta say, I’m leaning toward Xavier’s choice on this. Leo… it’s just such a kickass name.”

She frowned at me in mock disdain. “Well, Anna and Ariana prefer Isaac.”

“Have you asked my dad yet?” I narrowed my eyes on her. “I’ll bet you a hundred dollars he’ll prefer Leo.”

“Then I’ll ask your mother instead.” She winked at me. Then her expression became more serious as she chewed on her lower lip. “Leo. It’s just too fiery. Our son will have Novak blood running through him as it is. The least I can do is give him a name that’s a little more… relaxed.” She paused, letting out a yawn. Her eyelids flickered shut for a few moments before opening again.

“Let’s try to sleep, Viv,” I said, taking advantage of the pause in the conversation.

I turned onto my side, facing her, and watched as she mirrored my action.

“Honestly,” she said, “I didn’t think I’d be able to sleep when I was downstairs sitting in that chair. But now I’m lying down…” She yawned again. “Maybe it’s this pregnancy making me feel exhausted.”

“Then rest,” I whispered.

She reached for my hand and held it. As she closed her eyes, an expression of worry settled in on her face. I knew she was now imagining what I was trying not to imagine. I closed my own eyes and kept as still and quiet as possible until, finally, I was confident that sleep had claimed her.

Her grip on my hand had slackened, so it wasn’t difficult to detach myself from her. As I slowly sat up in bed and cast my eyes toward the closed door, I could only feel thankful that Vivienne was no longer a vampire. Her hearing wasn’t nearly as sharp. If I was careful enough, I might just be able to escape without disturbing her.

Opening the door as quietly as I could, I stepped out into the corridor and pulled it shut behind me. I knew there was no point trying to convince Kyle, or whomever else might be guarding the exit now, to let me step outside. No, I had to find another way out.

I hurried toward the staircase and climbed up to the next floor. I kept climbing level after level. Along the way, fortunately, I only bumped into three humans who were only vague acquaintances of mine. Finally, the stairs stopped and I could climb no higher.

I was relieved to see that this top level was less populated than the lower ones. Many of the doors were wide open. I stopped outside the last open door to my left at the end of the hallway. I stepped inside the dark, empty room and looked around.

As children, Ben and I sometimes used to sneak into the Black Heights with our friends to play hide and seek. I was always the last to be found in those games, and nobody understood why. I’d never revealed my secret to them—the secret that used to lie within the very walls I was standing between now. Yet it seemed that my hiding place had been removed. Where there used to be an old narrow fireplace was now solid wall. The whole room looked so different than how I remembered it.

Unless this isn’t the same room. Perhaps I’m on the wrong side of the corridor…

I hurried back out of the room to see the door opposite me was closed. I pressed my ear against the wood, and, on hearing no signs of anyone being in there, gripped the handle and pushed it open.

This room was almost identical to the previous room. There was no fireplace. However, there was a wide cabinet fixed into the furthest wall. I rushed over to it and crouched down. The hinges groaned as I pulled open the doors. Dust billowed into the air and it took all I had to fight off a coughing fit. The cabinet was stuffed with blankets. I pulled them out onto the floor, revealing a spacious area—large enough for me to crawl into—and charcoal-black stone walls. I climbed inside and, tucking my legs beneath me, looked directly upward. There was a narrow hole where the ceiling should have been, and a thin metal ladder leading upward.

My suspicion had been correct—the fireplace had been removed, and the cupboard built in its place. However, from the darkness of the tunnel, it was clear someone had also blocked off the opening at the top of the chimney—it used to open up at the top of a cliff. Still, gripping hold of the rusty ladder, I began to climb.

I kept going long after my hands became sore from the metal. I didn’t stop until the top of my head brushed against a ceiling. It was pitch black now. Looking down, I could only vaguely make out the light emanating into the room downstairs from the corridor outside. Holding onto the ladder with one hand, I reached up to push my palm against the ceiling with the other. To my surprise, it was slightly crumbly. I’d expected to feel the same stone that constituted the walls and all the other ceilings in this place. Whoever had sealed the hole had done it with clay. I wondered just how deep the layer was.