Page 123 of Night's Reckoning
He had to focus on the weight of his body against the ground. Going barefoot helped, but his feet were cold all the time. If he used amnis to heat them up, he started floating again. He felt like a kid learning how to ride a bike that was actually a unicycle, and by the way, it also had no brake.
Ben walked out of the phone room and around the palace, marveling at the night sky. It was astonishing in ways that he couldn’t even describe, greater than any stargazing. Better than the pictures NASA posted online. It was as if he’d been wearing sunglasses his whole life and he’d just taken them off. Colors were more vivid; the dark wasn’t dark at all.
A voice in the back of his mind told him that he’d miss the sun eventually, but for now he was enjoying the many changing shades of the moon.
“Once you’re off the island,” Zhang said, “you’ll be allowed to have a voice-operated phone that is more familiar. There is no reason for you to be isolated from your friends or family as long as they are supportive.”
A warning tossed out, but Ben understood. As long as no one gave him a hard time about being a vampire—or allowed him to vent his misgivings about Zhang—he could speak to them. Ben thought about all the people he wanted to speak to. Chloe. Gavin. Fabia.
Tenzin.
No, he didn’t want to speak to Tenzin. He couldn’t.
“Ronan,” he said. “I’d like to speak to my friend Ronan when it’s possible.”
“Of course,” Zhang said.
If anyone could understand, it would be Ronan, who had recently transitioned from mortal to immortal. Or would he? Ronan had chosen to be a vampire. He hadn’t had it forced on him by violence.
Who did he know that hadn’t made the choice?
Giovanni, of course. Though he’d been expecting it. That was complicated.
Brigid.
Brigid would listen to him. Brigid would help. She was a fire vampire and not always the best at control, but she was mated to Carwyn, one of Giovanni’s best friends—a vampire Tenzin didn’t particularly like but Ben trusted implicitly.
But he’d talk to Ronan first. Besides being a friend, Ronan was a bit of a gossip. If Ben wanted to spread the word quickly that he was no longer among the strictly living, Ronan was the man to tell.
He walked back to his room in Zhang’s wing of the palace and thought about the previous night. It was a little past dusk, and Giovanni and Beatrice would be picking up Fabia in Fuzhou soon. After that, they would make their way to Penglai and arrive just before dawn.
Until then, he would wait.
He refused to think about the treasure in the ocean or the Night’s Reckoning or Johari and her crimes. If he did, he’d drive himself mad. He had to focus on making it through each night and becoming familiar with his body again.
He’d stared at his reflection in the mirror until the bloodstained tears dried and he could look at his eyes without raging.
Persian eyes.
He didn’t know what that meant. What did any of it mean? Why had his eyes changed but Beatrice’s hadn’t? Why did he feel sharp pinpricks in the soles of his feet at times? Would that sensation go away? Zhang thought they were echoes of the injury that would have left him paralyzed if he’d not been changed.
Ben tried not to notice the pinpricks and focused on controlling his amnis. He couldn’t fly yet, even though Zhang said the ability was entirely up to him. He had the power, he just didn’t have the control. Floating while he slept wasn’t really flying.
Gavin once told Ben that it had taken years for him to have the ability to fly. Logically, Ben knew that having Zhang as his sire meant that he would be very powerful. Right now, however, he felt like a clumsy child that cried too often and didn’t know how to control his emotions.
Ben read a book of poetry Zhang had given him as they walked barefoot through the garden. It was in Mandarin, which was easy for him to speak but difficult for him to read. This poet wasn’t anyone Ben had heard of, but his writing was spare and used easy characters, which made the exercise challenging but not impossible. Focusing on the characters soothed his tumbling thoughts.
He’d once thought he’d have to be content speaking Mandarin well and only reading a little. But now Ben realized he had time.
He had a lot of time.
Ben had so much time before him, it threatened to drive him a little insane.
Focus on the now. Focus on the characters.
Once he understood the literal meaning, then he could think about the metaphorical meaning. Ben suddenly realized why Giovanni loved reading poetry so much, especially poetry he had to translate. Keeping his mind focused and occupied was difficult with so much new stimuli.
A female vampire approached the garden from the Hall of the Elders and stopped at the edge of the grass.
