Ari descended on the column of water and stepped ashore. I ran and threw myself into his arms, trembling with relief. I had been prepared to fight alone — for myself and for my friends — but I was very happy to be rescued, nonetheless.

"Fenn, are you hurt?" Ari asked, pushing me away to look at me.

"No, but dear Dennis is."

Releasing Ari, I went to Dennis where he lay, sick and pale, with his hand wrapped about his elbow where he'd cut himself. Blood leaked between his fingers even still, and I covered my nose with my sleeve to dampen the scent. The vampire I'd bitten had not tasted very good at all, but Dennis smelled like ripe strawberries and chocolate cake.

Kneeling at his side, I pushed the damp hair away from his brow and frowned with concern. His skin was cool to the touch, and he shivered intermittently.

"You ought to have waited and told me what you planned, Dennis," I chided gently. "We might have distracted them with quite a lot less blood, you know."

Dennis's attention had been fixed on Ari and the water serpents, but now he turned his blue-green eyes on me, droplets still clinging to his lashes. "R-Really?"

"Yes." I smiled and touched the side of his face. "You are very brave, Dennis, but I would rather you were safe. We can hardly be boyfriends if you're dead."

"Boyfr—" He blinked, and seemed on the verge of losing consciousness again.

I turned to Ari.

"Can you help him, Ari? Please?"

The wild power of the Stronghold still possessed him, and I knew he was not entirely himself as he looked down at me, his eyes aglow with unearthly fire, but he nodded and came to kneel at Dennis's other side. Resting his hand over the injury, he closed his eyes and breathed slow and deep. Green fire flared beneath his palm, and when he lifted it, only smooth undamaged skin lay beneath.

Ari inspected it, and sat back on his heels with a sigh.

"Restoring the blood he has lost would take more power than I can spare, at the moment," he said, "but at least he'll lose no more."

Dennis blinked up at him groggily, his mouth agape. "Wha...? Are you a...?"

Ari gave him an understanding smile. "There will be time for introductions and explanations later; first, I think we should get out of here."

I looked up at the spiral walls and the walkway above, and frowned.

"Dennis hasn't the strength to walk," I said.

"Neither shall I, when I release this magic," Ari replied. "And so..."

He stood, shut his eyes again, and let his head fall back as he raised his arms high. The water snakes, which still held the vampires in their translucent coils, now split in two like hydra heads. Each new snake wrapped about one of us, and together all six shot towards the surface like a serpentine geyser.

There, they deposited us gently at the edge of the great well, on the area of level  flat stone where the old Stronghold once stood. Then they melded back into the falls as Ari released them, losing form and dissolving into shapeless water once again.

We stood there a moment, dripping wet (one can hardly be carried by a giant snake made of water without becoming so), and then a double shout made us turn.

Soren sprinted towards us from around the well's far side, and Avery had just then gained the top of the walkway, panting from exertion and wide-eyed with astonishment and relief. Ahead of her, a dark form flew on swift wings.

Al reached us first, alighting on Ari's outstretched arm, followed by Soren.

"Fenn—you're alright?" he asked, pausing to pat my wet hair.

"Yes, I'm not hurt."

"Good."

Striding past me, he took Ari by the shoulders and shook him rather roughly.

"I thought we agreed you would stop giving me heart attacks," he hissed, and then wrapped him in a tight embrace. "I swear by all the gods, Ari Lorenfield..."

"Sorry," Ari gasped, clutching at the back of his shirt, "but it was Fenn, Soren."

"I know. I know, and I'd have done the same, but—" He released him and held him at arm's length. "Well, are you really quite all right, my dear?"

Ari smiled, and I noticed his lovely dark complexion had an undertone of gray, and there were lines of strain about his mouth and between his brows.

"I am now; I just need to rest," he said.

Avery joined us, clutching at a stitch in her side and breathing hard. Bypassing me, she walked up to Dennis and threw her arms around his neck.

"Idiot," she half sobbed. "You almost died for nothing, fool."

Dennis patted her back awkwardly. "I didn't know we were about to be rescued, did I? And I didn't know elbows bled that much."

"What?" She let him go and whacked his chest with the back of her hand. "Why do you think they stick needles there to draw blood?"

"Oh, yeah... I guess that's what I was thinking, but..." He shrugged.

He was still very pale and queasy-looking, and swayed unsteadily on his feet. I went and slipped my arm around his waist, and let him lean against me.

"Idiot," Avery repeated, and glared at him even as she sniffed back tears.

"I also didn't think they were gonna eat me right away," Dennis offered, leaning on me heavily. "I was planning to bargain with them."

"They're vampires, Dennis! Of course they were gonna eat you!" Avery snapped.

"But Fenn doesn't wanna eat m... uh..."

He glanced at Ari and Soren, and what little blood he had to spare rose to his cheeks, turning them a splotchy red against his pallor.

"Speaking of..." Soren released Ari and turned to Beaumort's three servants. They still knelt where the magic snakes had dropped them, water pooled about their knees. They had their heads bowed, and their arms crossed over their chests with their hands balled into fists — a gesture of surrender and respect.

It wasn't Soren to whom they subjected themselves, though, but to Ari.

When he'd shared his life to save mine, I'd shared something of myself in return, though inadvertently. He was not a vampire; but in addition to the status he already bore as Soren's bonded mate, other vampires would recognize him as such—and not merely that, but as a king among our kind.

Soren frowned—though not with displeasure—and looked to his mate.

"It seems the choice is yours, my love. What shall we do with them?"

Ari stepped forward and addressed the vampires. "You have come here uninvited and with ill intent; you have attacked the friends of this House, and made war against your allies. What have you to say in your defense?"

"Beaumort ordered it," one of the vampires said. "We had no choice, Eminence."

Ari glanced at Soren, who rolled his eyes. If Beaumort was their Sire, then it was likely true.

"Where is he?" Soren asked. "What does he want, anyway?"

"He's here for justice," another vampire offered, speaking without raising his head. "We know little more; my brothers and I are but newly blooded."

Soren sighed. The three men did not remotely resemble one another. It was possible they shared a parent, but genetically improbable (father Volkir had provided me with a fascinating book on the subject many years ago, by a man whose dog went on a long voyage, once, and I'd been fascinated ever since).

The more likely explanation was that Beaumort had been busy 'siring' vampiric children, which—when done for the sole purpose of swelling the ranks of one's own forces—was severely frowned upon.

"What has that old geezer got himself so worked up about, anyway?" Soren muttered. "Father always spoke so highly of him."

"He only told us it was...recompense," the third vampire said, "for great injustices."

"Hmm. Well, I suppose we'll hear it from the man himself, soon enough. Meanwhile, what are we to do with you lot?"

He looked from one vampire to the next with a weighted gaze, and they each cringed as at the expectation of a blow. A Master like their own might not hesitate to kill them—intruders, and low-level ones at that—but this was not Soren's way.

"Begone," he said. "You have my mercy; but understand that if you set foot in my realm again, unwelcomed, you shall have no more of it."

Each vampire bowed his head and pressed the first two fingers of his right hand to his lips, then over his heart. It was a promise made; a promise broken upon pain of death.

Satisfied, Soren nodded and turned away, breaking his hold on them. "Go, then; leave in peace."

The vampires stood slowly, and then—in the blur of motion, the literal blink of an eye—they were gone.

With no more need to keep it, Ari released the last of his magic with his breath, and shut his eyes. Soren moved swiftly to his side and slid a supportive arm around his back.

"Love?"

"I'm alright," Ari said softly. "It's just..."

"I know." Soren kissed his temple as Ari let him take his weight, and I glanced away, chewing my lip.

I knew, too. Ari's life and magic were bound to the Stronghold, and being away from it sapped his energy — like a mild but persistent illness he could never shake. Only returning home — here — and bathing in the Stronghold's natural power would fully restore him now.

It was a fair price to pay for the control and balance of his magic, and for his life, but it made long absences impossible; and even short ones taxed him— especially if he'd been called on to use his abilities, as it seemed he had. Using so much magic without having rested first would surely have worn him thin, and he looked little better than Dennis, at the moment.

Dennis, who had been willing to sacrifice himself so that I might save...

"Gray!" I exclaimed. "Soren — we must save Constant Gray. Benoit has some terrible plan for him — I do not know what, but his father is a horrible man! He is—"

"Maurice d'Argent," Soren interrupted grimly. "Yes, so I've learned."

He sighed, running a hand through his smooth blond hair.

"I've contacted my father about all this — I've tried, anyway, but I haven't heard back. I think the bastard suspected something like this might happen while he was gone, and shut himself off so it wouldn't interrupt his 'vacation.' Gods damn him."

"Perhaps it's for the best," Ari said. "Benoit may be the first, but if you don't deal with him yourself, he won't be the last. This is your chance to prove you deserve your father's place."

Soren made a huffing sound and looked away.

"A place I never asked for, or wanted, to begin with."

"Soren..."

Ari placed a hand on his shoulder, and Soren sighed once more. Straightening his back, he turned and looked at each of us in turn: at Avery, Dennis, Ari, and lastly at me.

"Very well," he said, with a wry, self-conscious smile. "Let's see what the 'dread pirate Beaumort' — or old Uncle Ben, as he once asked me to call him — has to say for himself, shall we?"