Together, my friends and I crept along the basement hallway after Al. Small ventilation windows lined one wall, high up and level with the surface outside. One was broken, the glass scattered in shards upon the floor, and a stone the size of a golf-ball lay among the wreck.

Al strode proudly back and forth below the shattered window a few times and then fluttered up to land upon my arm.

"Clever bird," I whispered, praising him again as I stroked the shiny feathers on his head.

He hopped up to the casement and plucked the last shard of glass from the frame with his bill, tossing it aside. I leapt up and caught hold of the sill, lifting myself enough so I could look out.

What I saw was not encouraging.

The window faced the house's inner courtyard, which many other larger windows looked in upon. Directly across, I could see Benoit's people through one of these, lounging about in the large common room, laughing and drinking something from the long-stemmed wine glasses Volkir had bought Ari and Soren for their last anniversary.

Indignation burned my heart. This was my home they defiled with their presence; Ari and Soren's home they invaded: our shared space of safety and of love. It felt like a violation, and I hated them bitterly for it.

My sudden passion surprised me, and I let go of the sill and dropped back down, a hand pressed to the place where anger warmed my chest.

"What is it?" Dennis asked in a whisper. "What's wrong?"

"It is morning without," I explained. "Or nearly so. Light enough that they will spot us easily. We must find another way."

Meanwhile, Al returned, hopping back through the window and fluttering down with a soft croak, as if to ask what caused our delay.

I crouched in front of him.

"We don't have wings like you, silly Al. We cannot fly away."

He tilted his head back, beak pointed towards the ceiling, and shut his scaly-lidded eyes, as if to say it wasn't his fault we weren't all proper birds, like him.

"Never mind," I said, running two fingers down the smooth feathers of his back. "You did a fine job helping us."

I removed one of the jeweled butterfly clips from my hair and held it out to him.

"Here. Take this to Ari. He will understand."

He croaked again, took the clip in his beak, and fluttered back up to the windowsill. With a last series of soft clicks, he hopped through and disappeared.

"What will a hair-clip tell your dad?" Avery asked.

"That Al found us and that we are safe," I said. "Hopefully, too, that Soren oughtn't to do anything foolish on my account," I added. "These clips were a gift from Volkir, the first he gave me once we'd escaped our blood-father's bonds. They are very dear to me, and Ari knows I would not easily part with one. He will understand it means I expect to see him soon, and to have it back."

"We haven't actually escaped yet," Avery pointed out. "We're still stuck in here."

"Benoit does not know all the secrets of this place," I said. "Come, I will show you."

I led the way down the hall to another door at the far end.

"Do you remember how I told you the old Stronghold burned down?" I asked.

Dennis nodded.

"Well, afterwards—once he'd built this place, but while Ari still slept in the crystal cavern deep beneath the earth—Soren constructed a series of passageways connecting the two sites. This door leads to that."

Carefully, I fitted Al's enchanted key in the lock and turned it. To my immense relief, it worked, and the complicated tumblers within clicked and whirred as the door swung open. A deep blackness yawned in the space beyond: a darkness impenetrable even to vampiric sight.

Stepping through, I ran my hand along the smooth stone of the wall, activating the strange quartz lights with the tiny charge of electricity in my fingertips. As the crystal's ghostly glow lit the narrow, steeply descending passageway, Avery drew back with a soft intake of breath.

"Oh, shit no."

"What is it?" I asked, alarmed by her tone though my senses detected nothing unusual.

"I don't do small spaces," she said, taking another step back. "Especially small, dark, underground spaces. Nuh-uh." She shook her head.

"So what? You'd rather take your chances with the vampire-pirates?" Dennis hissed. "Come on—I'm sure it's safe."

Avery shot him a glare, but started forward once more. At the doorway, though, she halted again, and I heard her heartbeat quicken with incipient fear.

"Will you trust me, Avery?" I asked, holding out my hand to her. "My dear Ari fears caves as well—or he did, upon a time. Soren or father Volkir has had to use vampiric charm to calm him more than once. I have never attempted it, but I will try, if you allow."

"How's it work?" she asked, eyes narrowed with suspicion.

"I am uncertain," I admitted. "I suppose it is a kind of hypnotism. It's really meant for keeping... Well, for keeping victims from struggling, I imagine, but it has other applications as well," I added quickly.

"Great. Vamp tranqs." Avery sighed. "Fine—lay it on me. Otherwise, I'm gonna freak."

"I shall do my best," I said, and took both her hands in mine, meeting her eyes.

There were several reasons I had not attempted such a thing before. For one, the need had never arisen; for another, I had not possessed the necessary inner calm. I was uncertain I did even now, but felt determined to do my best, for Avery's sake.

Shutting my eyes, I pulled her into a light embrace.

"Think of my green hills above the sea," I whispered. "Remember how it made you feel."

I did the same, recalling the image in my mind. Then, when serenity flooded my heart, washing away the recent traces of anger and fright, I tried to extend the feeling to Avery.

She remained rigid for a few breaths, and then relaxed.

"Wow. I feel it," she said. "Like, I don't know if I wouldn't struggle if you tried to bite me, or whatever, but I think I can handle a cave now."

"Well, for biting, I think there is usually more... um... 'seduction' involved." My face warmed, and I stepped away from her. "I don't know how long the effect will last—that was my first try, after all."

"Hey, when we get out of this, you can practice on me," Dennis offered eagerly. "Never know when it might come in handy."

"That is very kind, Dennis. You are a good friend." I smiled, but his expression fell a little at my words. Perhaps he'd been hoping I would turn him down; submitting oneself to a vampire's will is rather risky business, after all. "But now we must go," I went on, "before Benoit or his people remember humans need to eat and use the toilet now and then."

"Ugh," Dennis groaned. "Don't remind me."

"Come," I said, and led the way down into the dark.

~ ❀ ~

A short flight of steep, narrow steps led to a series of natural caverns connected by manmade passageways. The passageways had low vaulted ceilings, and everywhere the floors had been smoothed or reinforced with grated metal walkways. Here and there, railings had been installed where the natural caves skirted the edge of deeper chasms, and the crystal orbs, once activated, lit our way as we walked.

The air was cool and fresh, filtered by the chemistry of the deep earth. Besides the main watercourse, which passed through and beneath the old Stronghold and fed out into the river canyons below, many small streams ran through the rock as well. They made a strange, chaotic music in the dark; a rush and roar, and endless echoes like many voices chattering at once—voices of water and of stone.

It was pleasant, in its way; but I could imagine it driving someone mad, if they found themselves trapped there, alone in the dark. I shivered at the thought, and for Avery's sake did not voice it aloud.

One such stream was artificial, and channeled wastewater away from the house. I told Dennis and Avery they might relieve themselves there, if they wished, without endangering any delicate underground ecosystems (the treatment of sewage had vastly improved, I was happy to note, since the time of my human life).

Dennis went first, at Avery's insistence, and when he returned, she took his place behind a jutting outcrop of stone, which afforded some privacy.

"So, like, vampires don't, uh... you know... go?" Dennis asked.

"We only consume blood," I answered, thinking that Volkir would be greatly amused by his boundless curiosity. "We produce very little waste. Father Volkir theorized that some of our organs keep their human function, or similar—heart, kidneys, lungs—while others cease functioning at all; or perhaps they gain some other use. He surmised that what waste we do produce we expel through respiration, and that this explains why the breath of vampires who ingest human food smells like a garbage heap for several weeks afterwards. He's never been able to confirm it for certain, though. Dead vampires are scarce, and our bodies disintegrate so quickly after death, we do not lend ourselves to scientific study."

"Your breath doesn't smell," Dennis argued. "You eat chocolate and sweets and stuff, and your breath smells like... Well, like chocolate and sweets and stuff."

Even in the dark, I saw his cheeks light with color, as they often did, and felt the warmth of my fondness for him lighting mine.

A moment later, though, my thoughts took a darker turn.

"I am sorry, Dennis," I said quietly. "I know you will tell me again that you are glad of it, but I am sorry nonetheless. I wanted so badly to be a part of your world—to be a normal human boy, to learn and to grow, and become something better, and more—but I understand that is impossible, now. I will be forever as I am, until accident or violence ends me. I am not a natural creature, and do not belong in the natural world. I am sorry to have dragged you into mine."

"I don't know what you're talking about," he said, shaking his head. "You have learned and changed, Fenn. We may not have known each other long, but it's been long enough for me to see that. The first day we met, you were so cute and clueless. I just wanted to protect you and shield you from everything ugly and bad. I didn't know you'd already seen it all. Now, you're the one protecting me. You're strong and confident, and... and you're awesome. Vamp or not, you've grown up, and I..."

He trailed off, his voice faltering.

"Yes, Dennis?" I asked.

"Well, I—"

"Hey." Avery waved at us, returning from her private mission. "You guys ready now?"

I looked at Dennis, and he nodded.

"Yes," I agreed. "We're ready now."

~ ❀ ~

A short while later, we arrived at the old Stronghold.

It had once been a lovely, moss-encrusted castle of a house, built over and around a grand waterfall.

Now it was like a strange, inverted tower—a gigantic well of stone sinking deep into the earth, with open walkways spiraling around its inner sides, and a cascade of water pouring down into an emerald pool below.

The passageways we traversed came out at the bottom, and the bit of sky visible above looked like nothing but a distant dot of light.

"Oh, man," Dennis sighed, eyeing the sloping, spiraling pathway that led to the surface. "Tell me there's an elevator?"

I shook my head, hiding a smile. "Vampires do not tire easily, you know."

"But the time, man," he sighed. "What if your favorite show's about to start, and you're stuck down here? Like, at full speed, how long would it take you to reach the top?"

I considered.

"A minute, or so."

"Shit. Really?" He laughed. "Never mind, then."

"No, you are right," I conceded. "It is no wonder Ari seldom visits this place. I will tell Soren he ought to install an evelator. I mean an eletavor... I mean a lift."

Dennis looped his arm around my middle and squeezed me against his side.

"God, why wasn't I born a hot vampire-hunter?" he lamented. "I just wanna hug you to death. In a good way," he added.

"Is there a good way?" Avery asked, bringing up the rear with her arms crossed over her chest.

"I am quite strong," I pointed out. "I might carry you, Dennis, if you get tired."

"Uh, no, thanks," he said with a smile. "My legs might be grateful, but my ego would never recover."

And so, slowly and with frequent rests, and with hope and laughter fueling us, we ascended towards the light.

As we neared the top, however, I caught a scent on the descending air, and brought our progress to a halt, pulling my friends close beneath the shadow of some overhanging vines of wild grapes.

"What is it?" Dennis asked. "Vamps?"

I nodded. "Three, I think. Probably guards posted at the top. No one but our closest friends knows of the tunnels beneath, but that the Stronghold's heart lies here is no secret."

"What do we do?" Avery whispered. "Fight our way past?"

"One I might take, but three..." I bit my lip. I would fight for my friends, of course, but the odds were not promising.

"A distraction," Dennis proposed. "That's what we need."

"Yes!" I agreed, and took my friends' hands in mine. "I will distract them while you and Avery escape, and—"

"Nuh-uh," Dennis interrupted. "Not you. Me."

"What?" I frowned at him, not understanding.

He smiled, but it was a smile tinged with a sadness I could not name.

"Fenn... you gotta save Gray. He... He really needs you, I think. And... Well, you're an awesome vampire, and Avery's got the shadow things. But me?" He laughed. "I'm just the chicken nugget, remember?"

"What? No! I—"

"Sh! Shh, Fenn!"

He clapped a hand over my mouth and glanced up. Fortunately, the noise of the falls masked any sound we made. He sighed with relief and looked back at me.

"We're actors, right? Players on the stage?"

I nodded.

"Well, like the bard said, we all got a part to play. This is mine. Let me have it, alright?"

"Dennis..." Tears stung my eyes and overflowed, streaming down my cheeks. "If you are a chicken nugget, then I may safely say that, despite having never tasted one myself, they are my favorite, most cherished thing, and I love them very, very much."

"Hey, you won't forget me, right?" he asked. "You know, just in case Barbossa likes the taste of chicken, too?"

"I will never forget you, Dennis," I promised him. "No matter what. Not even if I live another four-hundred years."

"Good." He smiled. "And you can visit people in dreams, right? Even the dea—"

I cut him off before he could finish, throwing my arms around his neck and kissing him. He held me tight, and I tasted tears on my tongue—my own, and maybe his as well, bittersweet and salty, like dark chocolate and caramel.

He broke away from me, and smiled, and then he quoted a line from A Midsummer Night's Dream, which he had told me the drama club had performed the previous year.

"I love thee; by my life, I do:
I swear by that which I will lose for thee,
To prove him false that says I love thee not."

And then, before I could stop him, he pulled away, drew a little shard of glass from his pocket—a bit from the broken window, I realized, and stabbed it into this own arm at the elbow joint.

Blood swelled, thick and fast, at the site, and fell in bright crimson drops to the stone floor.

I gasped and looked away.

"Go," Dennis urged. "Go, Fenn. Save him. Save Avery. Then you can think about me."

"Dennis!"

"Hey—" He grasped me gently by the chin, forcing me to look at him. "This waterfall thing. It's got a pretty deep pool down there, right?"

I nodded.

"Good. You better swim fast, then. 'Cause I'm about to call the sharks."

He met my eyes and, before I could say anything—to object, or beg, or convince him otherwise—he leaned backward over the rail, and fell.