knew nothing of computers, satellite dishes, microwave ovens, or any other modern conveniences; we travelled by foot most of the time, had simple tastes and pleasures, and hunted as animals. Where humans sent aeroplanes to wage their wars and fought by pressing buttons, we battled with swords and our hands. Vampires and humans might share the same planet, but we lived in different worlds.
I awoke one afternoon to the sound of Harkat’s moans. He was having another nightmare and was tossing feverishly about on the grassy bank where he’d fallen asleep. I leant over to wake him. “Hold,” Evanna said. The witch was in the lower branches of a tree, observing Harkat with unseemly interest. A squirrel was exploring her head of long hair, and another was chewing on the ropes she used as clothes.
“He’s having a nightmare,” I said.
“He has them often?”
“Almost every time he sleeps. I’m supposed to wake him if I hear him having one.” I bent to shake him awake.
“Hold,” Evanna said again, jumping down. She shuffled over and touched the three middle fingers of her right hand to Harkat’s forehead. She closed her eyes and crouched there a minute, then opened them and let go. “Dragons,” she said. “Bad dreams. His time of insight is upon him. Did Desmond say nothing about revealing who Harkat was in his previous life?”
“Yes, but Harkat chose to come with us, to search for the Vampaneze Lord.”
“Noble but foolish,” she mused.
“If you told him who he was, would that ease his nightmares?”
“No. He must learn the truth himself. I’d make things worse if I meddled. But there is a way to temporarily ease his pain.”
“How?” I asked.
“One who speaks the language of the dragons could help.”
“Where will we find someone like that?” I snorted, then paused. “Can you…?” I left the question hanging.
“Not I,” she said. “I can talk to many animals, but not dragons. Only those who have bonded with the flying reptiles can speak their language.” She stood. “You could help.”
“Me?” I frowned. “I haven’t bonded with a dragon. I’ve never even seen one. I thought they were imaginary.”
“In this time and place, they are,” Evanna agreed. “But there are other times and places, and bonds can be formed unknown.”
That didn’t make sense, but if I could somehow help Harkat, I would. “Tell me what I have to do,” I said.
Evanna smiled approvingly, then told me to lay my hands on Harkat’s head and close my eyes. “Focus,” she said. “We need to find an image for you to fix upon. How about the Stone of Blood? Can you picture it, red and throbbing, the blood of the vampires flowing through its mysterious veins?”
“Yes,” I said, bringing the stone effortlessly to mind.
“Keep thinking of it. In a few minutes you’ll experience unpleasant sensations, and maybe catch glimpses of Harkat’s nightmares. Ignore them and stay focused on the Stone. I will do the rest.”
I did as she said. At first it was easy, but then I began to feel strange. The air around me seemed to get hotter and it became harder to breathe. I heard the beating of immense wings, then caught a glimpse of something dropping from a blood-red sky. I cringed, almost let go of Harkat, but remembered Evanna’s advice and forced myself to focus on the image of the Stone of Blood.
I sensed something huge land behind me, and felt hot eyes boring into my back, but I didn’t turn or shrink away. I reminded myself that this was a dream, an illusion, and thought about the Stone.
Harkat appeared before me in the vision, stretched upon a bed of stakes, which impaled him all over. He was alive but in incredible pain. He couldn’t see me – the tips of two stakes poked out of the sockets where his eyes should have been.
“His pain is nothing to what you will feel,” someone said, and looking up I saw a figure of shadows, elusive and dark, hovering close by.
“Who are you?” I gasped, momentarily forgetting about the Stone.
“I am the Lord of the Crimson Night,” he replied mockingly.
“The Lord of the Vampaneze?” I asked.
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