“No. That is why they’re still alive. They were living human lives at the time and hadn’t seen Lilith for some years.”
“Hang on. So that’s why Drake stormed Loslilian and killed everyone—because they all knew Lilith killed Anandene?”
Arthur sat back a little. “For the most part, I believe so.”
I sat back too, feeling a bit more alert, a bit more awake now. “Wow. Devious little bugger, isn't he?”
“My dear, there is so much deception going on around here, I'm beginning to think myself an illusion.”
I laughed. “Maybe you are.”
“Well, one cannot be an illusion and a traitor,” he said mockingly.
“You’re not a traitor.” I bumped him softly with my shoulder. “But I think you have some grand plan—some reason you’re here that you’re not telling me.”
“Perhaps. But until I figure out what everyone else’s plans are—and where, in the midst of it all, you sit, I will keep those plans to myself.”
“I'm queen. I sit on the top,” I said proudly, and Arthur smiled.
“Amara, the queen very rarely sits on top. You have all the power, but you will come to find that, essentially, you make very few of the decisions.”
“So I'm a puppet?”
He cupped my hand in both of his. “But you are not alone. I will not see them control you.”
“I didn't realise they were.” I frowned at the distant cliffs.
“I know. And this is why I watch from the sidelines, rather than to step in and make my point known. Very few people notice a pawn while the Bishops are rallying around the queen.”
“And very few ever worry about the king, either, do they?”
“No. And I imagine, if David were here right now, he would be operating things from behind the scenes somewhere—unnoticed.”
“You think?”
“I know.” Arthur nodded. “He always knew how to play a hand, make you think you’d won until he blew you out of the water. He was under Drake’s rule long enough to pick up some clever strategies.”
I smiled. “Yeah. When he died, I found myself waiting for him to come back—hoping it was just some kind of ploy, you know, that maybe he found out about immunity before I did and was just faking his death.”
Arthur gently rubbed his hand against his heart. “When I first discovered immunity, I had hoped the same thing.”
“Did you ever go back?” I asked delicately. “To the chamber. Did you ever go see his remains?”
He shook his head. “I wanted to. I wanted to sweep them from the fireplace and set them free on the wind, but I couldn’t bring myself to open that door.” His eyes pooled with the agony of that memory. “That was once a room of gathering where, when I was a child, my father and mother would invite our guests to dine and dance. To reach that door and find myself unable to enter was the final straw for me. I left the castle and haven’t returned.”
“I'm so sorry, Arthur.”
His mouth moved as if he was going to say something, but he didn't.
“Hey, maybe when we get rid of Drake, you can refurbish it and make it grand again,” I suggested.
“It will not change the fact that I've seen so many die there—many of those being people I loved.”
I couldn’t help but to smile then, thinking about what Arthur said before. “You must have known him pretty well—like, better than he knew himself.”
“Who?”
“David. To know he’d be working in the background, using his queen as a pawn—a distraction from what he was really doing.” I shook my head, dusting some sand off my leg. “If he was alive, that’s exactly what he’d do.”
Arthur reached across and, using his thumb, swept a piece of dried seaweed away from my ankle. “I know. And I like that you knew him well enough to know that, too. I'm glad he found you.”
“Me too.” I thought back to the school football field—David's secret smile, his hair with the gold tones in the summer sun and the vibrant green of his eyes that turned blue when we made love. “Hey, Arthur?”
“Yes, my dear.”
“If Peter loved Lilith enough to marry her, why did he betray her?”
“Power,” he said simply. “Drake was well-known for his significant, paranormal skills, and Peter wanted something.”
“So he sold the information?”
“Something like that.”
“What did he ask for?”
“The power to transform into any creature he desired, so he could stalk the homes of men, feed from them, unnoticed.”
“Really? For blood? That's it?”
“Yes.” Arthur scratched the base of his ear and took a breath. “You have to understand, he was a vampire, his heart was not changed by the love of a human—still driven by the raw, voracious blood-obsession.”
“And what did Drake do—did he give him the power?”
“Yes. He did. And after Lilith’s death, Peter disappeared.”
“Where did he go?”
“No one knows. Some have whispered that he’s the white dog we call Petey, but it’s all speculation—no way to be certain.”
“Wow. Petey? A vampire?”
“Like I said, it’s a rumour—a very old one. One I personally do not believe.” Arthur brought his arms forward and dusted the sand off his hands.
“So, how did Peter actually discover Lilith could die? Like, what brought him to discover her head could be chopped off?”
“They had a certain amount of abhorrence between them.” He coughed into his hand. “It was a love of raw passion, filled with neurotic hate.”
“So, what? He just chopped off her head one day?”
“Well, he had no reason to believe it would come off. He was merely trying to cut her—”
“Ew. That's so awful.”
Arthur smiled and nodded.
“Well, I bet he regrets that decision now,” I said.
“I imagine he would, if he is, in fact, alive—perhaps a dog.”
“Oh, he’s a dog,” I said. “Maybe not Petey, but he’s a dog all right—a dirty, mangy mutt.”
“Be mindful not to judge, Amara. Until you have endured the path of those you scorn, your opinion should remain unvoiced.”
“Hmpf!” I scoffed. “Don’t you ever get exhausted being so fanatical about this judge not stuff?