YEAR OF THE VAMPIRE 28

Chapter 28

Music from: Revenge of the Gods

Ivy stepped inside the room and realized where she was. To her left was the winding staircase, and to her right, the empty picture frames. Further down on the wall were the ten wooden panels. She put a hand to her stomach, feeling ill at the sight.

"Don't be afraid, Ivy," Maeve said, smiling when she saw Ivy's trembling fingers on her bodice. "No one here wishes you harm."

"Can my friends really be . . . be revived?" Ivy watched the older girl's face, searching for signs of a joke.

"Yes, but it must happen soon. I've slowed time to give us an extra ten minutes in here, at most, but it's not one of my strengths." Her voice grew crisp. "He's been careless. Dred has. That's why they sent him to me. Problem child. We'll start at the beginning." She took them down the room to the farthest panel, near a covered object to one side.

Ivy was going to ask more, but they were at the first panel. She looked at the covered stand, and then to the wall. The floor-length mirror was gone.

"Today is the first day of our New Year. And, like many cultures," Maeve said, "vampires have their own zodiac."

Ivy turned and blinked at her. "Zodiac? Like the month you were, well, born in?"

"Yes, but we use years." Maeve pointed at the first woodcut panel on the wall.

"We do have an older set," Evandis said, suddenly beside them.

Ivy yelped and nearly fell, but he took her elbow in a gentle hold.

"So sorry, Ivy, dear," he said, steadying her. "As I was saying, our older set at our next location was done by a clever chap named Albrecht Dürer in the sixteenth century. Very good work, with a keen eye toward—"

"Can I tell her this?" Maeve snapped at him.

He closed his mouth, fangs dimpling his upper lip. "Fine, Maeve."

"This set is by Gustave Doré, from about two hundred years ago," Maeve said. "Rather recent, actually. It's important to have a good set, Ivy. A really good artist doesn't come around sometimes for centuries."

"How old are you?" Ivy couldn't stop the question from leaving her mouth.

"Nine hundred forty-six. But back to the Zodiac."

Ivy was stunned at the age, but looked at the pile of bones depicted in the woodcut.

"Vampires have lived through a sort of cycle, largely brought on by our own behavior," Maeve said with a sigh. "Our actions, and human reaction, have put us on a cycle of ten patterns. The Year of the Bone—"

"I saw sheet music with that name on it in the music room," Ivy blurted.

"Yes, we do a pageant every end year, which is this year, to remind us of why we must either live in the shadows or assimilate into human culture. It takes a decade for us to get back on track once we fall into old habits, and so it's become our Zodiac," she said, shooting a look down the room.

Ivy followed her gaze, but saw only a shadow move out of sight at the doorway.

"During Bone, we pay for the misdeeds of the previous years." Maeve nodded to the woodcut. "It's the decade we find ourselves the most hunted. After striving to coexist with humans, some of us, during the last year, have went back to the old ways. Humans react naturally—hunting us down, eradicating and slaughtering us. We seek refuge in the Old Countries, in supposedly haunted castles and mountain refuges. In essence, we've undone the previous years of relative peace."