Anargrin was one of the greatest swordsmen amongst the Hunters, perhaps the greatest of the day. However, in a fight like this, skill wasn't enough. Anargrin landed wound after wound on the vampire, many lethal to an average person, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't land the decapitating cut or cripple a limb. The vampire was too quick, too cunning.

  They traded slash after slash, parry after parry, riposte after riposte. Thrust, slice, cut. Dodging, darting, ducking. All at least a few dozen times a second.

  They lunged and leapt. They fought from one end of the street to the other.

  Despite the ever-encroaching exhaustion, pain flaring in Anargrin's limbs, and every breath a struggle, the vampire didn't land a single blow.

  But Anargrin was too slow to avoid the vampire's kick; he tried to weave, but the edge of the vampire's boot caught his shoulder. Blinding pain coursed through his arm, and he was sent spinning, writhing to the stone ground.

  Anargrin's vision blurred, but his instinct made him roll, dodging by a hair's width the sword stabbing for his heart.

  Anargrin clambered into a kneel and spun to smash aside a slash. His pain-addled mind made him punch out, smashing his fist against the vampire's gut.

  The vampire laughed and backhanded Anargrin across the face. Anargrin saw stars, and he was sent to the ground again, his bottom lip tearing open, and agony burst in his cheek.

  'I have to say that I am impressed, Hunter,' said the vampire. 'I must admit that you are better than I at the sword; if I were mortal, I would be dead many times over. But I am not morta,l and all your fighting, all your desperate abandon is for nought. Yet you should be proud, little elf, it has been centuries since I have been so hard pressed. So do not despair, you have fought well. You should feel proud, but now it ends. You have failed.'

  The vampire raised his sword.

  Anargrin grinned with bloody teeth. 'I'd like to thank you, vampire.'

  The vampire's brow furrowed. 'Thank me for what?'

  'Thank you for your little pep talk; it gave me the precious seconds I needed.'

  Before the vampire could reply, Anargrin blinked behind him and, with a single slash, separated the vampire's head from his shoulders.

  Anargrin stumbled, and he burst out in laughter. It rang out through the street. His laugh wasn't humorous; it was one of relief and disbelief that his plan had somehow worked, that such a fight had ended in such an anticlimax.

  It took him a few seconds to find his sanity and to realise that to the watchers, he must've seemed like a madman.

  He shook away the exhaustion and began toward Kelth's house.

  His mission wasn't over yet.

  Solen and Falin ran out into the street and helped Anargrin into the house.

  They brought the exhausted, beaten Hunter to the table, and Anargrin slumped into a chair.

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  'Kelth. Go to bed,' Solen snapped.

  It caused Kelth to flinch, then, with tears in her eyes, she stormed to her room.

  'Do you need a healer, Anargrin?' said Falin.

  'No,' gasped Anargrin. 'I'll be fine, just give me some time.'

  Solen and Falin exchanged a look.

  'You're incredible,' said Falin, sounding as awed as Solen felt.

  Anargrin laughed. 'No, I'm just a lucky, cheating bastard. But anything and everything to win.'

  Solen and Falin didn't say anything.

  'And not just a cheating bastard, but a lying one too.'

  'What do you mean?' said Falin.

  'I-,' Anargrin paused. 'I wasn't entirely honest with you. I'm sorry.'

  'What are you apologising for?' said Solen. 'You saved us from that vampire. You risked-'

  'In all honesty, you wouldn't have been at such risk if it wasn't for me,' Anargrin said. 'We haven't much time. That vampire was here because I had lured him here. By using your daughter as bait.'

  Solen was unable to say anything, confusion overtaking him.

  'His hunting ground was in the north,' said Anargrin. 'I was assigned to hunt him down and...and during my investigation, I found out that...'

  The Hunter trailed off, looking uncertain. 'That it was likely the vampire was targeting people with magical potential.'

  'I don't understand,' said Falin.

  Anargrin sighed. 'The Church claims that, two thousand four hundred and fifteen years ago, when we were conquered and enslaved by the humans, that the avatar of Jaroai took from us the gift of magical potential. That is a lie, like many things they claim. We elves still can have it. The dwarves can still have it. I have it.'

  He paused.

  'Kelth has it.'

  'What?' said Solen.

  Anargrin looked at them with weariness, but it wasn't from the fight.

  'You may think it isn't true that if it were true, there would be elven priests. That-'

  'No, Anargrin,' Falin said. 'I believe you. Solen and I have never been churchgoers. Neither of us has believed in Jaroai. And ever since she was born, I had felt there was something special about Kelth, something different.'

  Falin gave Solen a grim glance. 'I also used to have a brother, an older brother, who, when I was very young, he...was taken by the Church. For decades, we have wondered why. Now we understand why.

  Anargrin's gaze met Falin's, and he nodded.

  'Why?' said Solen, wishing to interrupt it. 'Why then aren't there elf and dwarf priests of Jaroai?'

  'They still take elven and dwarven children,' said Anargrin. 'They took me too, so many years ago now. The Church takes them to serve in their main cathedrals and churches, indentured servants as-'

  'As slaves,' said Solen.

  Anargrin's gaze met his and nodded. 'For all intents and purposes, yes.'

  Solen wanted to say that it was impossible, that the treaty of Angara had outlawed slavery. But he couldn't; he knew deep down the Hunter was telling the truth.

  Then came the anger.

  'So, you used my Kelth as bait?' Solen said. 'Used us. Risked our lives.'

  Anargrin's attention fell to the floor. 'I did. I'm sorry, I...I...I won't make excuses. You have every right to be angry, but there is something else.'

  'What else?' Solen roared. 'What else could make this worse? How can you be so callous? So ruthless? What the hell is wrong with you?'

  'There is a lot wrong with me,' said Anargrin. 'And I can understand-'

  'No! You cannot begin to understand. Have you ever had a child, Hunter?'

  'No.'

  'Kelth is my life. She is our life. And to know that her life was put in unnecessary danger is maddening. To know-'

  'Please, Solen,' said Falin. 'I am angry, too. But please let him talk.'

  Solen sneered, his anger at Anargrin replaced by rage at Falin. But he stayed silent, and he folded his arms, glaring at Anargrin.

  Anargrin sighed. 'I'm sorry, but it gets worse, and again, it's all my fault. To draw in the vampire, I had to spread the rumour of Kelth's magical potential. Rumours which I'm sure to have caught the attention of the Church.'

  There was a pause.

  'They will be here soon,' said Anargrin. 'Here to take Kelth and-'

  'Force her into slavery,' said Solen.

  'Yes,' said Anargrin. 'But I can save her.'

  'How?' said Falin.

  'If you would allow it, I can take her. Take her to the Hunters, where she will receive an education, where she won't be scrubbing floors for the entirety of her long life. A future-'

  'What, to become like you?' said Solen. 'I knew. I knew there was something you weren't telling us right from the start. Get the hell out.'

  Anargrin looked at Solen with tearful eyes; then, with one smooth movement, he got up.

  'I'm sorry,' he said and went to leave, but paused in the doorway. 'I might be wrong, the Church mightn't know, they may not come. For your sake, I hope they don't.'

  Then he left.