Vampirates 6: Immortal War by Justin Somper Page A

a slab, on the verge of oblivion. I caught you and brought you back. You must rest now, and, in a matter of nights, you should be well enough to go on your way.” She smiled, sensing that at last she had gained the upper hand. “And now, if you’ll excuse me, I must check on my other patients.”
    Olivier nodded. “I’ve taken up enough of your precious time, I know. Besides, I’m tired now. It was intriguing to catch up with you, but, as you say, I need my rest.” With that, he closed his eyes and turned his bandaged head to the wall.
    Grace’s eyes lingered on him for a moment. Then she turned to make her exit from his stifling cocoon. As her hand reached out to the muslin, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he had somehow engineered this return to Sanctuary. To have done so, he would have had to inflict those injuries upon himself or, more likely, had others do so. It seemed inconceivable, but where a mercenary like Olivier was concerned, you just couldn’t apply normal rules.
    What could his reasons be for undergoing such physical punishment? Could he still be working for Sidorio, despite his story to the contrary? Was he some kind of spy?
    As she strode through the center of the ward, her path bordered on either side by other cocoons of white muslin, Grace found herself back inside Olivier’s vision. Once more she saw him waiting for her to depart, then crouching down and reaching for that book. Could it be that that slim, cloth-bound volume was still here at Sanctuary, hidden under the counter on which she and her fellow healers created their healing potions? Had Olivier endured all this to come back and reclaim the book? If so, it must be extraordinarily powerful. She couldn’t let it fall into the wrong hands.



VAMPIRATES’ TRAINING CAMP,
ATAFUTURA ATOLL
     
    Sidorio stood at the edge of the atoll, watching the jewel-like surface of the ocean. He could feel the burning heat close around him. The night was warm, and the whole atoll had been ringed with flaming torches to facilitate the night’s training. As he and Lola had sailed in on
The Vagabond
—the last of the ships to drop anchor around the atoll—it had seemed to him that the ocean itself was on fire. The sight had pleased him—a portent of the deepening conflict. Once, thanks to the scaremongering of others, he had been afraid of fire. Now he knew that, like so much else, it was nothing to be afraid of. He was beginning to realize there was nothing he could notovercome if he put his mind to it. Perhaps one day soon he would break the ultimate taboo and walk out proudly into the daylight. At last, after so much wasted time, he felt he was finally coming to understand what being immortal really meant. That he felt these things, he knew, was all thanks to one extraordinary person.
    He could see her now, still some way away, walking toward him across the surface of the water. Burnished by a strip of moonlight, it appeared as if the ocean itself had rolled out a golden carpet for Lola to walk to shore upon. As she strode nearer, Sidorio smiled, seeing her familiar black-heart tattoo and the beauty spot at the side of her mouth as if for the first time. Her face was as luminous as the moon. Every time he gazed upon her, it felt like a miracle. Or, rather, two miracles: the first to have found her at all; the second to have succeeded in bringing her back from the void.
    Lola was followed by two of her closest aides, Nathalie and Jacqueline. Each was a rare beauty, but Sidorio only had eyes for his extraordinary wife. She was looking lovelier than ever tonight, in a flowing gown in many shades of blue. As she stepped from the water onto the sand, it seemed as if she had fashioned her clothes from the ocean waters themselves. She stood there for a moment, catching her breath after such an intense effort of showmanship, and smiled to see her husband waiting for her. Though she had walked some distance across the surface of the ocean, her boots were