A boot on my shoulder shakes me awake. It's morning, and Rahlan's standing over me. The freezing air didn’t allow me much rest. I can't get up on my own with my arms tied wrist to elbow, but he's looking at me expectantly.

"Good morning?" I say from my place on the ground.

His rough hands flip me upright and release my wrists. "You have a minute to stretch.”

I spread my arms and wave them in a circle around me. It feels great to have them free again. I loosen the rope around my midriff so it's more comfortable.

I reach for an apple in the bag, but he slaps my hand away.

"I just wanted breakfast," I mumble, rubbing my sore hand.

“Times up.” He picks up the rope. I shoot up and back away as he steps closer.

"Don't tie me yet. I won't fight. Please.”

He grabs my shoulder and yanks me into his stone chest, then spins me around and pulls my arms behind my back. "You do not decide when you are bound.”

"That's why I’m asking. Please let me eat first. It makes no difference to you, but it means a lot to me."

His breath tickles the back of my neck as he mulls it over.

He releases my arms, and I stumble forward.

"Don’t do anything you’ll regret," he warns.

I hug my middle and peer back at the bag. Am I allowed to take from it now?

He answers my question by handing me two apples and the water skin. I waste no time munching them down. It’s a welcome change to eating out of his hand.

I gulp down the water, but he yanks it away. “We’re far from a river,” he says.

He prowls behind me and rests his heavy hands on my shoulders, making me flinch. He leans in takes in a deep breath, and a chill runs down my spine. He's sniffing his food.

His hands snap to my sides, making me yelp. “Something got you on edge?” he teases.

“Gee,” I begin, “I wonder what it could-”

His fangs pierce my neck, making me cut myself off with a squeak.

He's holding my chest, but this is the first time he's drunk from me with my arms free. I could fight back, but I know better. It'll net me nothing but a few minutes of struggling and extra pain.

He finishes his meal and immediately binds my arms again. I was hoping that my obedience would have earned me some trust, but I suppose not.

“I know I can be rather intimidating, but are these ropes really necessary?” I ask.

“Think of it like leashing an untrained dog,” he says. “’Tis just a pain to have to chase them down.” He pulls the rope tight on the final word, making me wince.

“I’m not a dog.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t seem very appropriate. Dogs don’t whine as much as you.”

The bag is tied to my back, and the rope around my waist forces me to follow. We head straight for the trade post, and the uneasy feeling in my stomach grows. I hope he keeps his word.

* * * * * * * *

We pass through a gap between the log walls that acts as a gate. They protect four wooden houses, a tavern and a stable. I recognize the architecture. This is a human settlement, well it was a human settlement. Now it's crawling with vampires. They're pale, and every one of them is a good head and half taller than me. They’re all men – soldiers.

I've never seen so many vampires this close. I stick to Rahlan like glue. A few notice my presence and shoot me dirty looks. More and more start to stare. I'm a sheep being led through a wolves' den. My gaze drops to the boots of the vampire leading me.

He stops, and I keep my gaze down. It feels like every set of eyes is on me, burning a hole in the back of my skull. Why are they acting like I'm an intruder? I'm a prisoner. My bound arms along with the rope leading from my bruised waist to Rahlan's hand should be a pretty strong indicator that I don't want to be here.

Rahlan introduces himself to the vampire manning the stables. He’s got black hair with an uneven beard and shares Rahlan’s pale skin and blood red eyes.

"Do you have a chart?" Rahlan asks. I nudge closer to him in fear of being snatched away from behind. Better the devil you know than the devil you don’t, and I don’t know if he’d bother pursuing me if I was snatched by one of these men.

"Here," the stable master knocks his knuckles against a wooden board. I peek around Rahlan to get a view. There's a map carved on the stable wall.

It's covered in words that look completely foreign to me. I'm no scribe, but I can at least recognize the names of the villages near mine, but nothing here is ringing any bells.

"Where are we?" Rahlan asks.

"Here.” The stable master pokes a hut symbol on the board.

"This is my heading," Rahlan points to a city. "How many days need I travel?"

There's a dark groove between the hut and the city. Is it a canyon or a river? My eyes dart around the map. It can't be a river, they're painted blue. It's a border. Crud. He's taking me back to his country.

Once we're over that border, there'll be no chance of escape. I won't just be leaving my country, I'll be leaving any hope of freedom too.

"’Tis one day's ride by horse, three by foot," the stable master says.

That’s why he didn't kill me. He still needs me. The clock is ticking. I have to get away in the next three days or I'm dead meat. I scan the map from top to bottom. The blue lines are rivers, so the big blue line must be the biggest river – the Gaultane. We'll travel straight from the hut to the city, so we'll pass right over it just before the border. There's a little castle symbol on the river. I heard stories that Lord Guerin built his castle in the middle of one. It's on our side of the border, so it must be Guerin. If I could make it to the castle, I'll be safe. Rahlan is strong, but he can't siege a castle alone. I'll be free.

"I wish to purchase a horse," Rahlan says. What? If he gets a horse, I'm finished.

“A gold piece or ten silver.”

“Five Prymni?” Rahlan offers.

“Prymni will not suffice.” The stable master shakes his head. “Maybe the barman will trade you silver for Prymni.” He gestures to the tavern on the opposite side, and Rahlan makes his way to the door.

He grabs my bound arm and pulls me inside the dimly lit bar. The air is heavy with tobacco. There are humans in here! There's a truce? Did they make a deal? Can I make one? I scan the room looking for a human in charge, but my enthusiasm evaporates when I realize what's going on.

There's no truce. Human women sit between vampire men, and bite marks litter their skin. They're prisoners like me. They killed the men and kept the women as blood meals.

My stomach twists into a knot when the corner table catches my eye. There are women wearing next to nothing on the vampires' laps. Some kissing the monsters, who have their filthy claws digging into their skin. One is dancing, giving a performance to a smiling bloodsucker.

A poor soul watches me from across the room. She's being fed on, her frail frame entrapped behind huge arms. She's terrified. Her eyes beg me to save her.

Rahlan pushes me towards the bar. His fingers stay locked around my arm.

"Do you trade for silver?" he asks the barman.

I glance at the woman next to me. There are bite marks on her arms and legs, some fresh enough to source a small trickle of blood. She's not particularly well covered either. None of them are. They have their shirts torn to expose their necks, shoulders and arms.

"What have you got?" the barman asks.

Rahlan lets go of my arm, reaches into the bag on my back and drops a handful of glass pieces on the counter. They're gorgeous little tokens, like tiny stained-glass windows. "Ten Prymni," Rahlan says.

"Your king's tokens are worthless here."

The barman's eyes land on me, and I suddenly feel very self-conscious about the state of my clothing. My shirt is torn at my middle, and my arms and neck are completely vulnerable to a set of vampire fangs. I take a step back behind Rahlan.

"You've got a blood bag. You need all of it to yourself?" the barman asks.

I feel sick to my stomach. I've only just started getting use to Rahlan drinking from me, and now I'm going to be thrown to a horde of ravenous vampires?

"She's already been drunk from today, so no more than two cups," Rahlan says.

The barman chuckles. "Blood is not worth silver. I'm offering thirteen pieces for alkema."

What?

The barman signals to someone behind us, and I whip around. A large bald vampire is heading right for me. I slide in front of Rahlan, using him as a shield. He grabs my arm and pushes me aside, not letting go this time.

To my relief, the bald vampire turns and heads down a corridor. The wrinkles on his face put him in his fifties, but his large body lacks the frailty that usually accompanies such an age.

I jump when the barman grabs my other arm. What the hell? Rahlan lets go, and I struggle against the barman's grip.

"Lord Rahlan?" I look up at him, but he ignores me. I'm his prisoner, right? Shouldn't I be in his custody?

Rahlan removes the bag from my back and frees me from the rope. Usually that would make me feel better, not worse. Why did he take it off?

He steps away from the bar, and the barman drags me off to the side.

"Lord Rahlan? What's happening?"

He finally makes eye contact but remains silent. I slam my fist against the barman’s hand, but his grip doesn’t falter. He forces me down the corridor, and soon a wall blocks my view of Rahlan and the other vampires.

"Rahlan!? Don’t stand there! What's alkema!?" I shout.

The barman shoves me into a room. I hit the wooden floor hard, and the door slams shut behind me.