It is better to reign in hell than serve in heaven Milton Chapter 1.

Welcome back, you who have chosen to follow the damned into the dark corridors of the unknown and have emerged baptized in blood. Do you dare to revel in the dance led

by the angels of darkness and find solace in the crusade against the pure and mundane? Then hold fast and read on

as more dark deeds await your discovery wrapped in the black robes of night. Indeed, it was this black robe of night that was ablaze with a fiery glow emanating from the Paris courthouse. Three men were inside the inferno burning for

the vicious judgment they had handed down earlier that day, but their prisoner had escaped and exacted her revenge. Their cries were carried on the warm breeze up into the darkness and it was under this shadowy cloak of darkness that Christina Lafage made her escape. The small carriage that held Christina and her companions went unnoticed as it quietly made its way out of the city toward the east. Christina had been through much

since being initiated into the realm of necromancy and receiving her power. She had taken many lives, lives that

had nurtured and increased her power. master her awesome power.

But she had yet to

Her mother and teacher, Madame Duchamp, was a formidable necromancer in her own right. She had taught

Christina everything she knew, guiding her through her initiation into the black arts that began with Christina willingly selling her soul to Lucien, the master himself. Christina had been a very eager student, greatly impressing her mentor with her abilities and the speed at which she learned them. She had proven herself to be very skilled in

formulating potions, amulets, death spells and even raising the dead, but it was her decent into the netherworld to save her lover, Richard, that had been her greatest achievement. She had traveled all the way from France to

Egypt to the underground temple of Set and sailed along the river of the dead. She had tricked Abbaddon, guardian of

the dead, and escaped with her power and her lover intact. All of these things swam in Madame Duchamps mind as she proudly gazed at Christina, but she could see that something was clearly troubling her daughter. What is on

your mind, Christina? she asked, already knowing what Christinas reply would be. Oh, its nothing, Christina dreamily replied, her dark brown hair framing her alluring features.

But Madame Duchamp knew better, Christina was like an open book, laid bare before her. She knew the cause of her

trouble had to be Rebecca, the only one who had betrayed Christina and escaped through suicide. Christina had

developed a strong appetite for vengeance that was difficult to quell. Its Rebecca that torments your wounded pride, is it not? Madame Duchamp knowingly asked. sighed and turned toward the window. Christina heavily I thought you had

agreed to put that behind you, Madame Duchamp whispered not wanting to wake Richard or Babette, their servant. I am trying, Christina replied tearing her gaze from the window. Its not easy to just let it go.

You need to, Christina, Madame Duchamp insisted. You still have much to learn and dwelling on the past will only impede your progress. Madame Duchamp could read the I know it is a difficult

frustration in Christinas eyes.

thing to do, she continued, but you can overcome it by continuing on the path. you dont like that. inexperienced. bide your time. will come. Rebecca got the better of you and

She bested you because you were

Learn to use the element of surprise and Keep your anger in check and the wisdom

The power can bring you so many things,

Christina, focus and continue to learn.

I know that what you say is true, Christina confessed with tears beginning to well. I have such a fiery rage in me. hotly? Madame Duchamp leaned over and squeezed Christinas hand gently. Youth and inexperience, she replied. The But you know that

Why does this fire burn so

only remedy is maturity and learning, but it will only come if you are ready. Christina made a solemn promise to put the past behind her and continue to look ahead. Even now she could feel

her power flowing through her veins; enhancing her senses and making her feel alive. It would be reprehensible to

waste such a gift and not develop it. The carriage that had been traveling so smoothly suddenly came to a rough patch, jarring the occupants inside. Richard woke with a start. asked. Yes, mother, Christina said. where we were going. Paris is not the only place with wealthy aristocrats who desire our services, she declared, the wild blue of her eyes piercing the dimness of the carriage. We are You never did tell us Where are we? he wearily

bound for Vienna; there we will continue your training,

Christina.

The journey will not be a smooth one, but it

will be much easier than Egypt was. Christina was not sure if her mother meant the journey to Vienna or her journey down the left handed path but she was too tired to inquire further. Sleep loomed on the

horizon and the road was becoming too treacherous to navigate in the dark. Madame Duchamp decided that a safe

distance separated them from Paris and they stopped at a small inn for the night. Luxury was unheard of in the

humble inn, but a bed of straw was better than a bed of earth. Sleep came easily to Christina and she eagerly

surrendered to its serene embrace. The early morning wove a tapestry of rain, composing a somber melody on the roof of the small room that Christina shared with Richard. Her body was intertwined with his

sleeping form and she wished to stay in his embrace, but she knew that Madame Duchamp would want to move on as early as possible. Christina was anxious to see Vienna, but

traveling in the rain was something that she was not looking forward to. She reluctantly woke Richard and they A

went to meet Madame Duchamp and Babette in the tavern.

warm smell of coffee and freshly baked bread greeted them as they opened the door and hurried inside.

Im glad to see the two of you awake so early, Madame Duchamp announced, pouring generous amounts of coffee. Christina slowly sipped the hot coffee, chasing Warm your insides, Christina, I know how you hate to travel in

the chill from her body. Madame Duchamp smiled. the rain.

Is there anything we can do about the rain? Christina asked through the rising steam of her coffee. Im afraid not, her mother answered. We can only

control the storms we raise; well just have to endure this one. The roads through Germany can be dangerous and

bandits are always a possible hazard, so we all need to keep our wits about us. They all nodded in agreement but Christina wondered why her mother had chosen such a faraway place where the journey held such dangers. She knew that her mother never

did anything without good reason, but she still had to know what that reason was. Her curiosity kindled, she inquired, Would it not be easier to

Why have you chosen Vienna?

choose a closer destination where the journey is not so dangerous? Dont tell me youre backing away from a challenge, Christina! Madame Duchamp said with raised eyebrows.

No, of course not, Christina stammered, a bit embarrassed that Madame Duchamp might think her question a cowardly one. I just thought it might be easier . . .

Nothing worthwhile is easy, Madame Duchamp interrupted. You above all should know that. She knew

that Christina had been through a lot of difficulty and the temptation toward easy choices was strong in one so young. I know we follow a difficult path, I didnt mean to sound apprehensive, Christina said in defense. Easy choices make us careless, Christina, Madame Duchamp warned, squeezing Christinas hand. We need to be

far away from Paris right now and the road to Vienna is a dangerous one, so be vigilant and Ill let you kill the first bandit. A mischievous smile spread across Christinas face at the thought of taking a life and enhancing her power. No

one would question the death of a highway bandit; it was a perfect way for Christina to feed her power. The horses are quite rested, Madame Duchamp, announced Gerard, their driver, breaking into Christinas murderous thoughts. rather light. Very good, Gerard, Madame Duchamp responded. lets be off, new opportunities are waiting. Well, We should leave now while the rain is

They spent the better part of the day pushing on toward Germany, the rain alternating between downpour and drizzle. The bleakness of the day reflected itself in It was

Christina's mood, making her pensive and distant.

only when they stopped at an inn near the German border for the night that her solemn mood began to melt. The promise

of a dry place to spend the night and finally be out of the rain was a relief for all of them. There was already a fire blazing in the hearth of the room Christina and Richard shared, making it soothing and inviting. The warm glow from the fire illuminated

Christinas face as she knelt before it and she could feel the dampness begin to evaporate. Richard knelt behind her and wrapped his arms around her whispering, I want you. She could feel his naked His kisses were

flesh against her, igniting her desire.

warm and seductive and she eagerly surrendered, tilting her head back and feeling his tongue caress her neck. She He

turned to face him and rose, letting him undress her. worked slowly, fueling her fire until she was stripped before him.

She ached to have him inside her and he pulled Christina rode

her down on top of him, kissing her deeply.

him fiercely, her fiery passion permeating every cell,

culminating in a blissful state of ecstasy that exhausted them both. Clear skies rode in on the early morning breeze blowing softly through the window. Richard and Christina

woke in each others arms, his blond hair entwined with her dark tresses, creating an intricate web. There came a soft

knocking at the door and Christina uttered a drowsy hail that was answered by Madame Duchamp announcing the approaching time of their departure. Christina assured her

that they were awake and would be ready to leave shortly. It was not long before the bumpy carriage ride took them to the German border where a shady looking customs agent greeted them. Madame Duchamp turned to her

companions and whispered, The customs agents are easily bribed, but today well save our money. These agents are

notorious for rummaging through baggage and helping themselves to whatever they want. the bandits. The agent approached the carriage and looked inside. Baggage check, please, he said with a devious grin, exposing gnarled brown teeth. Madame Duchamp stepped out of the carriage, never taking her eyes from his weather beaten face. Her They are no better than

penetrating stare seemed to paralyze him as the look on his

face changed from deviance to obedience.

We are not We are

carrying any contraband, she firmly declared. free to go.

She waved her hand in front of his face, not

completely breaking the spell, but giving him the ability to speak. You are not carrying any contraband, you are free to go, he uttered in a ghostly monotone. Thank you, Madame Duchamp smiled as she boarded the carriage and bade Gerard to continue on. Christina was impressed but baffled as to why her mother allowed him to live. Mother, why did you not kill

him and strengthen your power? she curiously asked. It was not necessary, she confidently answered. cant kill everyone who confronts us, Christina. is not to be used so recklessly. We

The power

A dead customs agent Dont

would certainly arouse more suspicion then a bandit. worry, youll get your chance.

Christinas chance came sooner than she expected, for it was not long after they were stopped by the customs agent that three bandits emerged from the dense forest. One of them, who appeared to be the leader, fired a pistol and commanded Gerard to stop. Richard quickly drew his

pistol but Christina placed her hand on his and asserted, No, my love, this one is mine. Richard smiled and

slipped the pistol back into his jacket.

He knew how

deadly Christinas power could be and he could already see it erupt behind her eyes, giving them a spectral glow. Stand and deliver! the leader shouted. and valuables! Take him, Christina, Madame Duchamp smiled as Christina opened the door and stepped out to greet her prey. Christina was met by a raised pistol with a dashing young rake behind it. Your money, frulein . . . and Your money

you, he hungrily leered, as his eyes moved over her body. The other two bandits stood behind him with pistols drawn and aimed at the carriage. prize? he asked. Madame Duchamp motioned for Richard and Babette to stay inside and she emerged from the carriage. What a lovely cargo you carry, driver, the bandit yelled to Gerard as he moved toward Christina. be a shame to destroy it. Christinas only answer was to stare into his eyes while Madame Duchamp gazed intensely into the forest beyond. He moved closer until the pistol was in It would Do you travel alone, my lovely

Christinas face.

Think carefully about your actions, she calmly whispered. Think carefully before you strike. Christina

could feel the power flowing through her with a fierce intensity, her eyes never moving from his. He lowered the

pistol as she moved toward him and placed her hands on either side of his face. His pounding heartbeat resounded

in her ears and she knew that his will had been surrendered. He was hers. Christina seductively leaned

toward him and parted her lips, but before he could taste her kiss, she vigorously twisted his neck completely around causing him to face his startled companions behind him. The power of his life force shot through her like a bolt of lightning taking her breath away and strengthening her power. She could feel it racing through her veins like a

raging inferno. The bandits companions were in shock, but before they could strike, the forest had answered Madame Duchamps invocation in the form of a ravenous pack of wolves. They

immediately leapt upon the unsuspecting bandits, ripping and tearing into muscle and sinew until the ground beneath was stained a deep red. Christina could feel her heightened power pulsating through every part of her; every cell was alive and infused

with it.

She barely caught her breath when she felt Madame

Duchamps hand on her shoulder. That was very masterful, Christina, she proudly stated. Thank you, mother, she gasped, while in the distance she could faintly hear Luciens deep voice whispering, You serve me well, Christina. I am indebted to you, my lord, Christina whispered to the unseen presence that had saved her from the hangmans noose in Paris. Christina stood straight and

caught her breath, wondering when she would see Lucien again. She was separated from her daydream by her mothers voice exclaiming, Enough diversion, on to Baden! In the confines of the carriage, Christina still thought of Lucien. His resonant tone struck a familiar

chord deep within her and she longed to be in his presence. Although she did feel a pang of guilt as Richard laid his arm across her shoulders and drew her close to him. She

did love Richard, but felt intensely drawn to Lucien as if long familiar with him, yet she had only been in his service for a year. It had seemed that so little time had

passed since Christina had surrendered her soul to Lucien and he bestowed the power upon her and took her virginity,

which she willingly gave him.

Christina knew that Richard

was uneasy around Lucien, but he understood her dedication to the path and what it demanded of her. The pact she made

with Lucien could not be broken . . . and she did not wish to break it. They had been on the road for quite a while and Christina knew that they would be stopping soon. She

wondered what sort of hovel they would be forced to spend the night in, when to her surprise, outside the window of the carriage she spotted a huge hotel. Christina looked at

her mother with a delighted surprise as the carriage pulled up to the entrance. I thought we could all use some time at the spa, Madame Duchamp smiled. This hotel has over one hundred

rooms and some of the best waters in Europe. A footman approached the carriage, gallantly opened the door and said, Welcome to Baden. They had arrived in time for the evening meal, a sort of pan fried breaded veal with potatoes. It is called Wiener Schnitzel, Madame Duchamp told her, noticing the curious look on Christinas face. The dining hall was very spacious and could easily accommodate three hundred guests who came from all over Europe. Wine flowed freely and they feasted on apples and

apricots that were halved, dried in the oven and served with butter and cinnamon. A lavish party was to follow in

the grand ballroom, but Christina was too worn out from the bumpy carriage ride over the rough German roads to attend. An opulent room awaited her, but she was too tired to marvel at its finery. was the oversized bed. The one thing she did take notice of She was grateful for the chance to

sleep in a soft bed instead of straw scattered on a wooden table. As she melted into the cool softness of the bed, Christina lay in

she felt Richard lay down beside her.

Richards arms, but it was Lucien that stole into her dreams. The days Christina spent at Baden were euphoric and tranquil. She immersed herself in the relaxing sulphur

baths and let the clear water wash away her fatigue and tension. There were even small tables floating in the

water that allowed the guests to play cards or other games as they took the waters. However the blissful feeling was not to last. In a

few days time Christina found herself boarding another carriage to push on toward Vienna. Gerard assured Madame

Duchamp that the ride would not be as rough, since he had the carriage fitted with stronger springs.

Christina gazed out the window at the densely wooded forest. The road wound through it like a lazy snake She pondered Madame Duchamp had

bearing the carriage on its rough scales. what wonders Vienna would hold for her.

told her there was very luxurious living in Vienna and Christina had hoped it would be just as lavish as the spa they had just left. The day was growing late and the rocking of the carriage was having a sedative effect on Christina. She

laid her head on Richards chest, but just before sleep overtook her the carriage came to a halt. Christina opened

her sleep filmed eyes as Madame Duchamp said, We will stop here for the night. Madame Duchamp opened the door of the carriage and knocked at a battered wooden door. Christina could hear

her mother negotiating a deal with a man whom she guessed was the innkeeper. Madame Duchamp entered the carriage, took Christina's hand in hers and whispered, I promise, this is the last dreadful inn that you will have to endure. Christina smiled at her mothers promise, but dreadful would have been a compliment to this hovel. The place was There

filthy and they would all have to share one room.

were tables strewn about the room with straw for sleeping while animals grunted in the next room. I think that I would rather sleep in the carriage than with the horses, Christina said with disgust. I know that it doesnt compare to what we just left but we should all stay together, Madame Duchamp cautiously answered. We are strangers in a foreign land and we need

to be careful. There was no tavern, so the innkeeper, a man named Klausner, invited them to dine at his table. The main

house where Klausner lived was not much cleaner than the stable where Christina and her companions would be lodging. Klausner himself was a squat, filthy individual with shifty eyes and an ill mannered disposition. Klausner looked them

over as they sat at his table and wondered why these tourists, who were obviously well to do, had chosen his inn for the night. So what brings you to this part of Germany? he sardonically asked. We are on our way to Ulm, Madame Duchamp quickly answered. But the darkness traveled faster and we do not

want to lose our way. Ulm? Klausner asked. What is there in Ulm?

Christina did not like Klausner, he asked too many questions and seemed suspicious. Madame Duchamp sensed her daughters wariness and shot a quick reassuring glance before she answered, We are on our way to Vienna. Ulm. Vienna! Klausner exclaimed, winking to a young servant who had began setting food on the table. beautiful and wealthy city. We are but humble tourists, Madame Duchamp replied, but Klausner was not easily fooled. Tourists who could Such a We plan to sail down the Danube from

afford a private carriage and passage to Vienna by water were not people of humble means. However there was It She

something about Madame Duchamp that made him cautious. was not her aristocratic demeanor or her appearance.

was very attractive; raven black hair, alabaster skin and electric blue eyes that seemed captivating and secretive. She did not seem to have any fear and that could work to his advantage . . . or against it. Nevertheless, later as

they slept, he would deprive them of their money and instill a bit of fear into this bold creature and her companions. That would please him very much, he concluded,

spearing a greasy black sausage from a large plate laden with sauerkraut.

Christina found the strong odor of the meal repulsive and her mood was becoming as bitter as her hosts beer. Klausner sensed her aversion to the bounty of his simple table and tauntingly inquired, Whats the matter, Mademoiselle, not sophisticated enough for your refined palate? Christina was taken by surprise by Klausners question, as was everyone else at the table. She was She

shocked but seething under the surface with anger.

could feel her blood beginning to boil, but an icy stare from Madame Duchamp prevented her from unleashing her wrath. Instead, she swallowed hard and gravely replied, I am just not very hungry.

Not at all, sir.

A devious grin spread across Klausner's flabby face as he reached for his beer stein and guzzled greedily. would be a pleasure to have. She

Of course the young man would

try to defend her, but Klausner would take care of him . . . he would take care of all of them. Perhaps in the morning, after you have rested, you will have more of an appetite, he smugly replied. Perhaps, Christina coldly responded. The meal ended without further incident and Christina and her companions retired to the stable for the night. Madame Duchamp lit a candle and sat down beside Christina.

I am very pleased that you exercised restraint with Herr Klausner, she said. It was not easy, she grumbled, the anger still searing and gnawing at her. I know, Christina, Madame Duchamp assured her. have a tremendous gift, dont lose control of it. The You

power without wisdom can turn the gift into a curse. I understand the logic, but its the emotion that rages inside me, Christina morosely explained. So like your father, Madame Duchamp sighed. He let

his emotions govern his power and it was his undoing. Christina had not known her father. He had betrayed

her mother and some of Luciens followers and as a consequence, paid the ultimate price when her mother unleashed her power on him. But I would never betray you, Christina quickly replied. I know, her mother smiled. yourself with your emotions. But dont betray

Now try to get some sleep.

Christina lay back on the brittle straw but was too agitated to sleep. The candle that her mother had left

burning flickered hypnotically in the squalid darkness. Christina stared at it for some time before feeling drowsy enough to sleep, but just before her eyes closed, the flame

trembled as if a sudden draft had wafted carefully into the barn. Shadows began to creep along the wall, growing ever She heard a

longer as Christinas heart began to race.

pistol being cocked and saw the glint of a metal gun barrel next to Richard's head. You would be wise not to make a move, young sir, the owner of the pistol advised. Christina could see

Klausner's servant with the pistol pressed against her lovers head, when all of a sudden, the candle flame grew bright and she heard her mothers voice loud and clear. You would be wise to lower that pistol! Christina looked to her left and saw Madame Duchamp with a dagger at Klausner's throat, her eyes fierce and burning with rage. The terrified servant lowered the pistol as Richard grabbed his arm and twisted it hard behind his back, causing the pistol to fall to the floor. So, this is how you treat your guests, Herr Klausner? Madame Duchamp taunted. you. I am also constable of this hamlet, Klausner protested. I would be missed. Not very hospitable of

Not by the tourist trade, Im sure, Christina interjected, retrieving the pistol from the floor and pointing it at Klausner. There is only one judge, jury and executioner and right now she has a knife at your throat, Madame Duchamp announced. Please, Klausner begged. do anything! Quickly surveying her surroundings, Madame Duchamp caught sight of a long pitchfork protruding from a large mound of hay. The tines gleamed spectrally in the luminous What do you want? Ill

candlelight while a devious punishment formed in her thoughts. She turned Klausner to face the pitchfork, drew

the dagger away from his throat and said Walk! How far? he stammered. All the way! she commanded. Klausner walked toward the pitchfork and stopped just before the tines touched his chest. Walk! Madame Duchamp repeated. I will not kill myself! he shouted, grabbing the pitchfork and lunging at Madame Duchamp who raised her arm and stopped him in his tracks. Now, she calmly stated. your throat. Turn the pitchfork toward

No! he shouted. Do it, she gravely demanded, staring into his eyes. Slowly, Klausner, unable to stop, began to turn the pitchfork on himself, the tines beginning to pierce his fleshy neck. Please . . . he stammered as tiny droplets

of blood began to appear and roll down his neck. Fall! she ordered and he fell forward, plunging the pitchfork deep into his throat. The blood gurgled and

churned in his throat while the white flash of his life force bolted through Madame Duchamp, knocking her to the floor. I have never seen power such as this, you are a minion of the devil, Klausner's servant whimpered, trembling in Richard's grasp. Some things should not be seen by the uninitiated, Christina replied, moving toward him, her heart quickening with anticipation. Richard tightened his grip, knowing that Christina was about to strengthen her power. The servant began to

breathe fast and heavy as Christina placed her hands on his eyes. Shhh, she whispered, caressing his closed eyes with her thumbs. I have heard that the eyes are the mirrors of

the soul, she pensively said, her power beginning to stir within her. If it is my silence you want, it is yours. me what you want! he nervously offered. Your soul! she demanded, driving her thumbs deep into his eye sockets as the blood drenched her hands and face. He struggled, but Richard held fast, wrapping his Just tell

arm around the hapless mans neck and as his life ebbed and the struggling ceased, Christina felt the familiar bolt of power that she craved rush through her, intensifying her power. Her whole body was shaking until the full force hit

her, dislodging her thumbs from the bloody eye sockets. The power was ablaze in Christinas eyes, giving them an ominous radiance. She could feel the charge of power

rushing through her, making her feel stronger than ever. Richard let the limp corpse slump to the floor, the eyeless sockets staring blankly. It was then that

Christina gazed into her hands and beheld the bloody orbs, but before she could react, Madame Duchamp stood beside her and whispered, These are but tools to help us. Christina looked at her mother and immediately could sense her intensified power. Teach me, she requested, handing her the gory spheres.

Madame Duchamp smiled as she took the eyes from her daughters hands. She was pleased that Christina still had

a burning desire to learn. Thieves such as these, she began, usually have a horde of loot that they keep hidden. find it. purse! Madame Duchamp and Christina entered the house cautiously while Richard kept a sharp eye out for any other servants Klausner may have had. When they were satisfied These will help us

We fortified our power, now we will fortify our

they were alone, Madame Duchamp placed the eyes in the palm of her hand and recited a simple yet compelling incantation, Eyes of the thief, hear me now, Reveal your secret, break your vow. With these eyes torn asunder, Lead me to your hidden plunder. Madame Duchamp could feel her power animate the dead eyes, giving them life to obey her command. Christina was

amazed as the eyes looked upward toward the staircase. Up the stairs, quickly, she said to Christina who dutifully followed. As they walked down the short hallway, the eyes abruptly moved to the left toward a worm eaten wooden door. Christina tried the door and to her surprise, found it

unlocked.

The room they entered yielded no plunder; it was

sparsely furnished and some of the panels in the walls were cracked and peeling. It was one of these cracked and

peeling panels that the eyes in Madame Duchamp's hand fixed their dead gaze upon. Madame Duchamp ran her free hand

along the panel until she heard a faint click and pushed lightly. The panel opened to reveal another room laden Christina followed her mother into

with stolen property.

the room and was amazed at the cache of goods piled in the secret chamber. There was gold and silver jewelry, swords,

pistols, clothing and all sorts of finery, snuff boxes and even some musical instruments. Old Klausner must have been in business for quite a while, Christina remarked while looking over the newly found treasure. Yes, however, it is not lavish goods that we seek, Madame Duchamp replied. Where is the money? At once the eyes lowered their gaze towards the floor under Christinas feet. Yes, Madame Duchamp smiled. Under the floorboard. The money, she commanded.

Christina immediately dropped to the floor and found the slightly open seam in the floorboards. She carefully

lifted the board and found a niche filled with a

substantial fortune.

They filled their pockets, leaving Then mother and

the servants eyes in the empty niche.

daughter left the secret chamber and the room that hid it as they found it and returned to the barn. What did you find? Richard anxiously asked. Enough capital to live very well in Vienna, Madame Duchamp happily answered. continued. It will be dawn soon, she Can you ready the

We should be on our way.

carriage, Gerard? Oui, Madame, he dutifully answered and set about his task. They arrived in Ulm just as the boats were being loaded and passengers were boarding. Passage to Vienna was

secured on a vessel that resembled a wooden house rowed by six pairs of men. Christina was surprised when she entered

the cabin and saw no bed, but instead saw hammocks suspended from hooks in the walls. Is that where we are to sleep? she inquired of her mother. Yes, Madame Duchamp answered. Proper wooden beds This is much

would get wet in case of accidental flooding. more adventurous, Im sure youll like it.

Christina smiled at the thought of another adventure and hoped that Vienna would be as thrilling as she

imagined.

Of course she realized that her continued

instruction in the black arts would take precedence, but hopefully there would be time to experience Vienna and all it had to offer. After all, she thought, how much more She had already memorized herbs

knowledge could there be?

and their usage, cast spells, raised the dead, killed to increase her power and cheated death. mother possibly teach her? What else could her

Christina was not one to wait

for answers, so she approached her mother and asked, How much more training am I to have before I am a true master? That is up to you, Madame Duchamp replied. However

there are still some things you must learn before you can master them. Christina was a bit disappointed by her mothers answer. Her power was strong, she could feel it and knew

how to keep it strong. Madame Duchamp sensed her daughters disappointment but decided to be firm with her. overnight, Christina. Mastery doesnt come Learning to master

It takes years.

the black arts is a lifelong commitment, one that cannot be forsaken if one is to be a true master. She moved toward I know

Christina and put her arm around her shoulders.

that patience is not one of your strong attributes, but it needs to be if we are to continue.

But my power is strong . . . Christina began. Your power is very strong, her mother broke in. But there is more to the black arts than keeping your power strong. Power without knowledge is useless; be

patient, master your power and nothing will be able to touch you. As Christina absorbed her mothers advice, she heard Lucien's voice whisper to her thoughts, Trust in your mothers words, she speaks the truth. Christina knew that she had chosen a difficult path, but Luciens encouragement made her realize that she had chosen wisely. Thank you, mother, she relented with a loving embrace. She knew that her mother only had Christinas

best interest in mind and had sacrificed much for her. Christina kept her mothers words in mind as she left her embrace and walked out onto the deck. She inhaled the

warm air, felt Richards arm slide around her waist and his soft kiss on her lips. Madame Duchamp watched Richard and Christina, arm in arm, peering over the side while the boat pulled away from the dock. She never doubted Christinas loyalty and Christina possessed a burning

willingness to learn.

curiosity with all things pertaining to the black arts and

would make any master proud, but she also had the pride and impatience of youth. You are quite capable of teaching Christina to overcome her weaknesses, a voice behind her assured. Lucien, she whispered, turning to find him behind her and out of Christinas sight. confided. She is no different from you at that age, Lucien replied. Yes, but I was more disciplined, more focused, she confessed. her. She always has, he replied. But of all my Christina lets her emotions get the better of I worry about her, she

disciples, you are the most knowledgeable and the most skilled. I have the utmost confidence in you. I owe everything to you, she

Thank you, my lord. returned.

You have done me a great service, Madeline, Lucien declared, caressing her cheek and kissing her lips. know you wont fail me. Your desire is my will, she firmly stated as Lucien disappeared into the shadows. She was flattered by I

Luciens confidence in her and grateful for the good life the power was able to give her. She would instill that in

Christina and make her see all the things that disciplined use of the power could bring her. But that would be on

hold for a few days until they arrived in Vienna, for now it would just be a pleasant journey down the sun-lit waters of the Danube.