Pomp, ostentation, grandeur. Vampires with power almost always flaunted it. At least Percival had never known it any other way and had only heard from his master that the very fewest, great vampires lived in humility or solitude. “A whole day,” he sighed, escorting his teacher down the awe-inspiring corridor. It was not only with buildings and material things that vampires showed their power. His master was supposed to have auditioned yesterday, but they had been kept waiting. “Disrespectful.”


    "Rude would be my choice of words, my dear Percival," Saxton opined. There was no deep disgruntlement evident in him. It was rather disappointment, which took nothing of the necromancer’s British aristocracy. "Or a misunderstanding. I will clarify those details with Lady Gardner."


    "Of course, Master," Percival said. He was actually in a small glass skyscraper, but the interior of the building was designed to prevent any natural sunlight from entering. "But you can count on me. Your 12 o’clock tea will be ready. Which one would you like today?"


    "After the strain of the interview, I feel like mild. Lady Gray, but with a slice of orange. No lemon."


    "Of course, Master," Percival acknowledged, looking at the mountain of woman coming towards him.


    It was Dalia, one of Lady Gardner’s closest confidants and who was physically a true image of a warrior, a Valkyrie as one knew her from Norse mythology. All that was missing was the armour. "Mr Saxton," she greeted, without a bow or other gesture. "Lady Gardner is ready and I will take you to her."


    "Excellent, my dear," Saxton replied, tapping his top hat with his walking stick. "Percival, I will see you at teatime."


    Mutely, Percival nodded and watched as the six-foot-plus woman led his master on and he made his way to the cafeteria to fetch the necessary ingredients for Lady Gray tea.


    It was not the first time Percival had been to the main Tenebrae headquarters of Great Kingston. He knew his way around here to some extent and some knew him, though not as a magician. The majority of the 1000 or so employees of this insurance agency were human, but only a few dozen executives were familiar with the creatures of the night.


    The cafeteria was hardly busy at the moment, however, which was why Percival got everything he needed for tea quickly. "Thank you very much," he said to the waitress.


    "I hope it is to Mr Allister’s liking," smiled the man behind the counter.


    With his tray full, Percival made his way back to his master’s room. Halfway there, he met Dalia again. "Dalia, is the meeting already over?"


    "No," the warrior replied curtly.


    "I would have been surprised," Percival commented. Not that he was keen on small talk with her, for he knew rumours that the vampire Amazon was not too fond of mages, but respect and courtesy were now part of Saxton’s teachings. "I’m sure this sorry misunderstanding will be cleared up."


    "With an acquittal for your master or my sword through his neck," Dalia posed calmly and rationally. "Possibility number two would save us a great deal."


    "Quite plausible, but it doesn’t help us clear up this incident."


    "Clarification is only secondary now, as we have seen. The church or hunters have discovered you, your master and probably your entire enclave."


    Percival could not disagree with that. He had encountered and killed a single hunter in Great Kingston a few months ago, but this massive, if amateurish, attack, yesterday, was not a good sign. "At least the Tenebrae was able to cover up that incident, and a direct attack on our home, the hunters will not dare to do so easily."


    "They certainly won’t do me that favour, I’m afraid," Dalia murmured in disappointment, but one thing filled her eyes with amusement. "But at least I can go hunting now. So many hunters and such a massive attack, that means there’s a major base in Great Kingston or nearby."


    "Very likely," Percival agreed knowingly. Just like the Tenebrae or mages of any kind, part of the Church and an order called the Ultima Bellator were hiding in plain sight. "The suspicion had been there for a long time anyway."


    Seemingly tired of the conversation, Dalia responded accordingly, "Why are you boring me with this political chatter?"


    "We are on the same side and I assumed we were conducting a polite exchange."


    "Polite is not tearing your heart out," Dalia said plumply, clenching her mighty fist. "And if you think ours is the same side, you’re an even more naive turd than I assumed."


    "The vampires accept us for what we are," Percival retorted impassively. Of course, he was not as na?ve as the woman probably thought of him, for the vampires profited from black magicians, as did those of the Tenebrae. "The Coven of Merlin does not. That is enough for me to be on the same side."


    Dalia’s lips formed a deprecating smirk. "We will see how things stand when your Master’s meeting is over, and now get out of my way."


    Percival said nothing in response and made way for the woman. No, he did not fear for the life of Saxton or his enclave. Especially not now that there seemed to be a larger group of hunters in town, for the Bellator, or Church, also had mages in their employ and mages, no matter what arts they practised, were respected opponents among the vampires and were best fought by other mages.


    After taking the tray of ingredients to Saxton’s room, Percival entered his next door. Aimed at vampires, he had no windows here, unfortunately, and anyway he was sure he had at least left the lamps on the writing table and night table on. "Hello?" he murmured on a hunch, his finger on the overhead light switch.


    "Very good," a quiet, experienced male voice replied and the stranger drew attention to himself with footsteps. Turning on the large light, revealed the cloak-covered figure of Patriarch Stein. "Your instincts are as sharp as ever."


    "Patriarch Stein," Percival uttered in wonder and closed the door. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"


    "Excuse me for letting myself in, but I had to do a little rummaging first," Oskar revealed, revealing not only his hand under the cloak but also three listening devices, which he crushed. "Please, nevertheless, be so good as to shroud us in silence."


    "As you wish," Percival replied. If the patriarch wanted to speak to him under such circumstances, it had to be something important. Therefore, Percival formed an inconspicuous bubble in both hands, which he enlarged, enclosing himself and the vampire within it. It was another variation of the silent curse, except that only the two of them could understand their spoken words. "Seeing you here, I don’t think this zombie business will have any serious consequences, either for you or Master Allister?"


    "I will discuss that with your Master, for it is his responsibility and I do not blame you for it," Oskar clarified. If there was one thing that could be said about him, it was that he always tried to be fair, but many mistook that for weakness. "But as a member of his enclave, which is in my territory, I naturally expect a certain obedience and with that comes duties as well."


    This narrative has been purloined without the author''s approval. Report any appearances on Amazon.


    "Your generosity in allowing us to live on your land we reciprocate, I reply, to that extent of course - what can I be of service with?"


    "The events of the last day - how do you feel about them?"


    Percival tried to gauge what exactly all fell under that question. "I’m not up to speed on everything, in case more has happened. Are you talking about the zombies and the blood moon child?"


    The patriarch smirked. "Is the blood moon child really an event for you? Are you superstitious?"


    "The history of humans and vampires is full of mysteries and relevant events," Percival enumerated as a student of knowledge that didn’t just involve magic. "At least I wouldn’t call it nothing."


    "It is as important as how we measure it," Oskar said, and he put away his smirk as he swung his right arm up from under his cloak and folded it behind his back as he wandered. "I measure other events far more heavily, though. Do you know yet that the Apostles are in Great Kingston?"


    "What, how?" stumbled Percival. Not that the radical vampire group couldn’t be here, but that it wasn’t common knowledge worried him. "Are you sure?"


    "It’s been set in stone since last night: Masterless Zombies, the Church or the Ultima Bellator, the Apostles, discord within the Tenebrae. If you are such an attentive student of history, you most certainly recognise the ingredients for a great conflict."


    "Conflict is even an understatement," Percival guessed. The Tenebrae had long been unchallenged in Great Kingston, but with all their mortal enemies on the doorstep, a brutal power struggle seemed inevitable. "So war is what you want to swear me to?"


    "First and foremost, I desire your temporary, permanent presence at my country estate, because I wish to have direct contact with your enclave, and I want you to serve as my intermediary."


    Considering Percival’s incident with the zombies and what was on the horizon, this request was plausible and reasonable. "I will speak to my master, but I see no reason why he should refuse this request. In times of calamity, we must respond quickly, albeit cautiously."


    "Of course you must consult with your master," Oskar conceded to the mage, but his tone betrayed that there was a certain distance. "Nevertheless, once you are on my estate, you will consult with me as to what you will and will not say to your master."


    "That again seems illogical to me," Percival diplomatically challenged the statement. He was absolutely loyal to his teacher and he did not understand how he could serve as an intermediary if he was to keep secrets from his master. "Wouldn’t that interfere with good coordination?"


    "It will, but I have good reasons for my defaults," Oskar asserted. That he had not been a friend of the Tenebrae since then, since the tragic death of his wife, was an open secret. However, he seemed to be absolutely suspicious, even if he expressed himself moderately. "Your master may be under my protection, but in the end it is the Tenebrae who rule Great Kingston. I simply do not want things I share with you to go through your master to Lady Gardner and others."


    "Lady Gardner," Percival murmured thoughtfully. It was not his business, but he wondered at the state of affairs. "You ask a great deal when you say I must not tell my master everything. Obedience may be one thing, but what about trust? Please show me your trust, Patriarch Stein. What about the zombies?"


    "Under normal circumstances there would have been an intense investigation, perhaps even charges against me," Oskar replied. He didn’t seem to mind, however, if it had come to that. "However, since a war seems to be brewing, we cannot afford any squabbles, Lady Gardner said. This incident is classed as unfortunate but justifiable."


    Percival continued to remain thoughtful and sat down on a chair that was by the desk. "How good is your knowledge of necromancy, Patriarch?" he asked, still unsure if he should say so much.


    "As a vampire, necromancy is not possible for me," Oskar mentioned. That was no secret, of course, and even less did he seem to be a friend of the art. "Not much is known to me and I may realise the irony of my words because we vampires are considered undead, but undeath through this form of magic is unnatural. Life or death, that is what belongs in this world and as long as there is blood, we vampires live."


    "Well, I wasn’t going for a philosophical exchange now, although I’m sure it would be very interesting. So I am interested to know if you know what a necrotic bond is?"


    "The bond between the summoner and the summoned. I am aware of that. Why do you ask?"


    Percival clasped his hands together in front of his mouth thoughtfully. But he did so because he was reluctant to let the words leave his lips, as it might harm his master. Now, however, he had asked the question and he looked at Oskar as he waited and Percival could hardly avoid answering. "The runaway zombies ... we couldn’t find you because the necrotic bond had dissolved."


    "Explain."


    "I should probably say dissolved," Percival revealed weightily. "That is - someone severed the bond with full intent. That’s not something that can happen through carelessness or a fatal mistake, and for the zombies to break out ..."


    Oskar understood the gravity of this statement. "So you are saying that the zombies were deliberately released?"


    "Unfortunately, yes."


    "And who would be eligible for that?"


    "Anyone," Percival said, which of course included him. "The necrotic bond is the basis of all necromancy. Any student who has spent a few weeks with Master Allister should be able to do it."


    "And you can do that, just like that?" murmured Oskar indecisively, subtly throwing a guess into the room. "Can’t the bond merely be dissolved by the one who summoned the undead?"


    "No," Percival shook his head and rubbed his temple. He was truly not comfortable with this situation. "Think of it as a little thread swirling around in your head. All those with magical affinity and knowledge of this field can pull it. Only time is of the essence. Depending on the strength of the binding and the target, it takes several minutes to cut the ribbon. In this case we are talking about plain zombies. There are two dozen freed in a few minutes."


    "This is most unpleasant and most distressing news you are entrusting me with," Oskar said, eyeing the black mage closely. He restrained himself as to whether he excluded him from the act. "But now you see what my secrecy is based on."


    "Are you suggesting that this was a work of the tenebrae?"


    "I am suggesting that too many things are happening in this city right now at once, and since this particular matter ultimately fell upon me, I am not merely suggesting - it is obvious that I am the target of an intention unknown to me."


    "It may be, though your daughter’s work is her own-"


    "Not a word of it!" admonished Oskar, who had hitherto been tolerant, but on this subject it was clearly over.


    "Excuse me, Patriarch Stein," Percival bowed his head curtly. It all brought back his memories of Paris: the ignorance, the intrigue, the politics, something he had actually had enough of for years. "Yes, I can understand your desire for my discretion and ... in so far as you do not require me to betray my master, my discretion shall be yours."


    "I admire your loyalty to your master," Oskar acknowledged, impressed, and he clarified his point as he brought his right hand from his back and extended it "As long as Mr Allister has nothing to do with this zombie plight, or he does not otherwise act against me, I have no reason whatsoever to demand anything of the sort from you."


    Of course it was, even if Percival was reluctant to admit it to himself. His master was among the suspects, as was everyone in the enclave, and if that were true, the mage truly could not say how he would respond. "So be it, Patriarch Stein," Percival shook the outstretched hand. "And what exactly will await me on your estate?"


    "What do you mean?"


    Percival was already thinking two moves ahead and did not hide it. "You are a man of great experience. I have heard enough stories about you and much I am sure will be true," he said, and polite as he was, Percival was equally aware of his talents and reputation, which he did not downplay. "I am not likely to linger on your estate as a mere intermediary, for I would be too bad for that. What do you wish me to do?"


    Oskar felt caught and lifted one corner of his mouth. "Excellent, Mage Zivai," he addressed the student respectfully by his surname. Not even Saxton did that before and everyone always said Percival. "Yes, I have plans for you. I want you to teach my clan members. When we fight Hunters and Apostles, I’m sure there will be enemy mages involved."


    "And you want me to give your children some tricks and tips on how to fight mages?"


    "That’s what I had in mind and who knows," Oskar posited. "Perhaps I will teach you some secrets of blood magic in return. Is that of interest to you?"


    It was not one of Percival’s fields, but vampires possessed another possibility that enticed him. "Not so far, but what is your knowledge of demonology?"


    "I myself stay as far away from hell as possible, but some of my children are quite knowledgeable in it. Is that of more interest to you?"


    "It would be, yes."


    With that, Oskar sealed the deal completely. "You see? This will be anything but a one-sided agreement."


    "I’m already very excited, and now? What exactly are we going to tell my master?"


    "That I was in your room will be hard to conceal. You tell your master that we have discussed my request that you henceforth reside in my abode as mediator."


    "Do you think that is enough for my master? We have been talking for some time and Saxton is no fool."


    "I suspect he is being briefed on the Apostles by Lady Gardner as he talks," Oskar said, striding towards the door, but still turning to speak, he extended the courtesy of eye contact to the black mage. "Because I told her about it and the Tenebrae now knows about both: hunters and apostles. Tell him of my fears that war is likely to come to Great Kingston."


    "That should do it," Percival nodded. He was not entirely comfortable with it, but it was not his first unpleasant mission and he possessed the nerve for it. "But now I want to prepare the tea for my master. He hates it when tea is not ready or even insufficiently prepared."


    "British," Oskar merely smirked and left the room.