As people mill about, my grandmother pulls away to make her rounds and many stop to chat with me, to ask me how I am, to offer me words of support or gratitude.
Conversations about the curse float around me as people share stories they heard from long-dead relatives.
"I hear he sucks the blood from his victims to stay alive," the baker says, shaking his head.
"He is a vampire of old, though they were thought to be long dead," the librarian says. "But thousands of years ago, the wicked prince was cursed with this ancient demon, and now he walks the nights devouring the souls of his victims along with their blood."
I shiver and move away from that group. I don't need more horror stories filling my head. I've got enough of my own to keep my imagination active.
While many continue to greet me, none stay and chat. I'm a bit of an oddity in the village.
I had a different upbringing than others. While most kids went to the small schoolhouse and studied together, I was tutored in private, by my grandmother and others, for the one job I would have in this life.
Now I smile as my combat instructor approaches. She is tall and lean with dark eyes, even darker skin, and is never without her bow and arrow, though she is just as deadly with a sword.
"Adara, well wishes to you," she says in her thick eastern accent, holding out her forearm.
I grasp it in the traditional greeting and nod. "Thank you, Kadere. I wouldn't be this prepared without your years of training."
"You made a fine pupil," she says, then turns to leave.
Kadere is from a kingdom to the east. She came here to train me for a season, then met a woman with whom she fell in love and never left. She's not one for words, but she's been a dear friend these many years.
I watch as she joins her wife, their daughter spinning in circles laughing. The girl was an orphan whose father was killed by the beast on the mountain and whose mother died of heartbreak not a year later. Now she has a happy home, but that does not erase the blood debt the monster owes to my village.
A tall, handsome young man rushes over to me carrying a plate of food and a goblet of wine, distracting me from my dark thoughts. "Adara, I was hoping you would come," he says, a blush rising on his cheeks.
I've known Arthur since we were both crawling in mud with pigs. He hands me the plate and cup. "I thought you might be hungry," he says with a shy grin. "And thirsty," he adds quickly.
"Thank you, I am." I sip the wine and try to sort out how to eat while holding both the cup and the plate. "Walk with me?" I ask as I tuck the plate into the same hand as the goblet so I can more easily pluck a chunk of honeyed ham from it.
He falls into step beside me. "Are you scared?" he asks.
"Yes," I say honestly.
He raises an eyebrow in surprise. "I've never seen you scared before," he says.
"Sure you have," I say, layering a bit of cheese and salami onto a cracker. "I get scared loads of times."
"But you never seem it. You're always so sure of yourself."
I shrug, licking my fingers and then dipping a strawberry into whipped buttercream. "I feel the fear, and I do it anyway. That's all you can ever do."
He pauses, and we watch a group ice-skating on the lake under the bridge we stand on.
"So that's what you're doing now? Feeling your fear but doing it anyways?"
"Yes," I say, closing my eyes as I conjure up the thing that terrifies me the most and mentally stare it down.
"I don't think I could do it," he says.
I turn to him. "Do what?"
He shivers. "Face the monster that killed my parents."
A cold wind whips around me, and I stiffen my spine and look into the distance, toward the snowcapped Ice Mountains. "That's why I have to do it. He killed my parents. Now, I will kill him."
Chapter 2
The wind is cold and biting as I make my way through the pass. Behind me, swirls of snow obscure the path I’ve taken thus far. I long ago lost sight of Willowdale and the villagers that came to see me off. Friends and families I’ve known my whole life. All of their expressions were hopeful and desperate for me to succeed. I can’t blame them. We’ve suffered too long under the curse of the vampire prince. My people don’t deserve what fate has dealt them. I’m determined to end it once and for all.
But more than any of them, the face I miss most is Grandmother's. If she were here, her quiet certainty would give me confidence—and strength. And I could use both right now.
It was hard enough to put on a brave face in the relative safety of my village, but the further away I get from home, the more that fear coils around my heart.
The journey is long, and I'm left with nothing but my thoughts. That and the growing fatigue in my body. The muscles in my legs burn from trekking through snowdrifts that only deepen the farther up I go, and my breathing is shallow, despite the years of training I've endured while other children were skipping rocks and climbing trees.
I shift the pack on my back, hoping to alleviate the pressure on my aching shoulders. I'm second-guessing my choice to bring my Grimoire and magical tools, but I couldn't leave them. I'm about to face an immortal foe who feeds off my people and grows stronger each year. A little pain is worth the extra protection.
In past years, those chosen have a few villagers who join them, at least to a point, to offer comfort, companionship and protection in their final days. This started when one sacrifice died before he made it to the prince, and that led to the slaughter of many, so now we are more careful.
But my case is different, and so I was sent alone.
I'm tempted to rest, but I can't stop. I don’t dare risk getting caught out in the storm that seems to be gathering over the top of the mountain. Already, the snow has drifted onto the path, making it hard to see anything but endless white.
Directly above me, the prince's castle towers over everything. Spires wind up toward clouds that obscure the very tips. Somewhere inside the massive structure is the creature I will kill.
I have no idea how I’ll get him to drink the poisoned vial, but there’s time yet for that. At any rate, I have a much riskier back up plan. I pat the dagger at my hip as if for good luck. Coating this blade with the blood and stabbing him in the heart will be just as effective, though no less difficult to manage. Regardless, I won’t leave until he’s dead—and my people are free.
By the time I reach the castle grounds, I’m breathless and sweating despite the cold. I pause to look up and take it in, and I’m stunned by the vastness of the estate. It truly is a castle made for a king. Though if rumors are true, the creature the prince has become will never be king. He gave up that right when he was cursed. Now, he's a monster of the worst sort. A beast.
I trek onward, my breath puffing out in short bursts as I continue to climb toward the castle gate. Trees close in around me, their thick fir branches draped heavily in snow.
My footsteps crunch loudly as I make my way under the canopy. The silence grows thick and the hairs on the back of my neck prickle with a sudden awareness.
I am no longer alone.
Glancing around, I see nothing beyond the shadows the trees cast.
I continue slowly, listening, watching, every one of my senses on alert.