“This entire thing, here,” Kalon said, pointing at a tall glass case with more than a dozen trophies and medals neatly displayed on its shelves. “About a hundred years’ worth. I keep the rest at home, though I’ll have to expand the room. I’m running out of space.”

“Yes, he keeps winning.” Valaine sighed, not at all impressed.

Her blasé demeanor made me want to laugh, but I worried it might offend Kalon. So far, he’d seemed the most candid among the nobles with whom we’d had meaningful interactions.

“At least I’m proud of my achievements. You hide yours in the basement,” Kalon retorted, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You participate in these deadly tournaments, as well?” I asked, my voice shakier than expected, prompting me to clear my throat, hoping the next sentence that came out of my mouth would sound a lot better. Valaine seemed to have this effect on me.

“All first children of the seven dynasties fight in the Blood Arena,” Valaine replied.

“And you’re a first child, yourself,” Sofia said. Valaine nodded. “Do you have any siblings?”

She shook her head. “No. My mother died when I was born, and my father has not had the heart to remarry since.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” I said. “How long were they together?”

“About fifty thousand years.” Valaine sighed, staring at one of Kalon’s trophies. “This one you got last year, didn’t you?”

Kalon nodded. “The year I almost got myself truly and irreparably killed.”

“If you were the first child… what exactly is the birth rate here?” I asked, unwilling to let her change the subject so easily. I could smell avoidance from a mile away.

She gave me a dark stare. “Petra didn’t give you details?”

“She did not, I’m afraid. We had a lot to talk about. It must’ve slipped through the cracks.”

“No, she just didn’t want to tell you,” Kalon replied. “My mother might come across as forthcoming, but don’t let that fool you.”

“Will you tell us, then?” Esme retorted.

Behind her, Derek and Sofia stifled their smiles. I could see why they’d be amused. My sister was a relentless firecracker, and Kalon had poked and prodded her enough times, already.

“If they’re lucky, an Aeternae couple can welcome their first child after five thousand years,” Valaine said. “That is a very loose average. Some are blessed much earlier. Others are nearly hopeless before the good news is given by our physicians. It’s a bit of a gamble.”

“Do you have siblings, Kalon?” Esme replied.

He smiled, and I could swear he was impressed. I figured not many dared to ask him things which the Aeternae clearly deemed deeply personal and delicate, given their difficulty in procreating. “I have four brothers,” Kalon said. “All younger than me. The youngest enjoys the tournaments, though not as much as me.”

“Have you ever fought him in the Blood Arena?” Amal asked.

Kalon nodded. “Twice. He yielded every time.”

“He was lucky,” Valaine said. “If he’d met you in the final, you would’ve killed him.”

“I warned him not to get into it,” Kalon said. “Let’s leave it at that, Valaine. Our guests are not yet ready to hear us airing our dirty laundry.”

Derek chuckled. “Actually, we love a good family drama once in a while.”

“Forget about that. Tell me about Cruor,” he said. “I’m curious. What’s it like? You mentioned darkness and evil, but I’m having a hard time picturing that place.”

Sofia took a deep breath, letting it out slowly as she tried to find the right words to describe Cruor. I’d only heard the tales; I’d never been there myself. Had I been born an immune, like my grandmother, I probably would’ve found a way to sneak out of The Shade and into Cruor to see if I could reverse the condition even if the Elders were no longer there. Chances were that Esme would’ve come with me.

“It’s a dark place, like we said, and the sky is covered in a thick, almost reddish mist. As soon as you set foot in that place, you know it. You can feel it seeping into your bones, like a disease. The pure malevolence of… I’m not sure what, exactly. But you know… deep down, you know. There was suffering there for a very long time. So awful, so intense, it became embedded into the very fabric of Cruor,” Sofia said, vivid memories stirring her.

I got shivers down my spine just from listening to her account. Valaine frowned, while Kalon’s eyes were wide, as if he’d just heard one of the greatest horror stories ever told. “And the Elders?” he asked. “You said they had no form.”

“Their essence could creep up and take over one’s body. Possessing them. Feeding on blood through them. They were capable of causing great harm… a lot of suffering,” Derek said.

“So, how did the Aeternae come to be?” Esme asked, looking at Kalon and Valaine. “Since you said the high priestess isn’t that much of a sharer, I assume she knows, but she didn’t want to tell us.”

Kalon shot her a sly grin. “You catch on quick.”

“You’re incorrigible,” Valaine told him, then gave Esme an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry for any trouble Kalon might have caused you. He’s been like this since he was a child. A troublemaker, a silver-tongued mischief-stirrer.”

“A handsome silver-tongued mischief-stirrer, thank you,” Kalon retorted. “And the Aeternae, dear Esme… they developed. They used to be weaker, living maybe a hundred or two hundred years, if they were lucky. We don’t know when the change happened, but we know we did not say no to it. We’ve embraced our nature fully.”

“Yes, that much we can see for ourselves,” Esme replied, motioning to the many trophies around us.

Looking back now, I suspected that a sentry wouldn’t have been able to help us here. If the Aeternae were genetically related to the vampires, then a sentry couldn’t read their emotions to detect any form of deception. I thought of this because I was dying to know what was going through Kalon and Valaine’s heads. Their personalities struck me as drastically different—Valaine was reserved and polite, and I was willing to bet she could pack a mean, even deadly punch. Kalon had the makings of an arrogant young noble, though I did appreciate his sense of humor.

He seemed more relaxed when not in the presence of his mother.

We moved from the trophy room into the library, an enormous hall with hundreds of rows, each loaded with leather-bound manuscripts and ancient scrolls. Candles flickered in the silvery chandeliers hanging overhead. The wood paneling and the shelves had a reddish hue, each surface polished almost obsessively, given how light reflected everywhere.

Stained-glass windows from the floor to the ceiling made sure that there was natural light here throughout the day—an abundance of filtered sunshine for visitors to enjoy as they read the hundreds of thousands of volumes held in this place.

Study tables interrupted the shelf rows, creating a harmonious pattern of furniture in a room big enough to host a football game. This hall, alone, was enormous.

“What about the causes of death among the Aeternae?” Amal asked after a long moment of silence, which we’d spent admiring the splendor around us. “The high priestess mentioned the timeless classics, including accidental decapitations and burnings, and the tournaments, among other things. But, I must admit, the numbers don’t quite add up.”

Valaine went blank for a moment. Kalon was caught off guard, his blue eyes wide enough to resemble oversized sapphire marbles. “What do you mean?” he replied, likely stalling until he could find a good answer.

We’d waded into sensitive territory again.

“I understand accidents. Some Aeternae’s decision to end their own lives. I can even accept mass deaths in the Blood Arena, as you called it,” Amal explained. “Executions alone don’t account for such a considerable death rate. There are too few of you now, taking the above into account, even if your birth rates are abysmal.”

“Oh, you are good,” Kalon breathed.

“There’s a reason we brought her along with us,” Nethissis replied, her lips stretching into a satisfied grin.

Valaine let a deep breath roll out of her chest. “I suppose no one mentioned the Black Fever.”

“The Black Fever?” I asked.

Kalon shook his head slowly, leaning into one of the bookshelves. “It’s not something we openly talk about. Not even among ourselves,” he muttered.

“What is it, exactly?” Esme replied.