At long last the sun slipped below the horizon. He couldn’t see it beyond the ravine walls, but his internal sundial told him with perfect accuracy that the sun was finally out of the sky. He didn’t waste one second longer. Not bothering to retrieve his daggers or even shift Serapha’s head slightly to reach his boot dagger, he simply put his wrist to his mouth and tore his sharp fangs across it in one quick motion.

Blood welled up, a heavy flow of deep crimson. He put his wrist to Serapha’s mouth, letting the blood flow down her throat. From somewhere she found the strength to swallow, a simple act that was suddenly as difficult as lifting a mountain. The flavor of it wasn’t like anything she had tasted. It was nothing like the blood of rabbits or deer brought down in the hunt. Nothing like the taste of her own blood when she bit her tongue, but nevertheless it tasted somehow like blood, like the quintessential essence of blood, coppery and hot, even though it should have been cold. Her father’s hand against her cheek was cool to the touch, but somehow the blood in her mouth was like fire. It seemed to burn all the way down her throat. And then it spread, the fire racing through all her veins, filling her whole body, shutting out even the pain of her wounds. And then blackness and cold darkness overwhelmed the fire to close around her and she knew no more.

Aidan watched, tears in his eyes, as Serapha let out one last breath and was still. He closed his eyes, trying to hold back sobs and failing. There was hope, of course there was hope, but he couldn’t be sure. What if she was simply dead? He remembered his own change vividly, how he had been unconscious for most of a night and all the next day before finally waking as the sun set. He knew he would have to wait that long before he could be sure, before he could know if his daughter was alive.

And then the thought hit him. A full day. Sunlight! There was a reason why superstition said a vampire had to be in his coffin by dawn. Sunlight was deadly to vampires, and if Serapha was exposed to the sun, fragile as her condition was, she would never survive. He looked at his medallion, his own protection from sunlight, and it only took him an instant to decide. If he couldn’t find shelter by dawn, he would put the medallion around her neck and let the sunlight take him instead.

But enough time for such desperate measures later, he told himself. For now… For now I need to think. Can I move her? If she were fully living I wouldn’t dare, but dare I stay here until she starts to heal? What if she doesn’t heal until she wakes tomorrow night? I can’t just sit here. So, no choice but to move her and hope. He very, very carefully picked up his daughter, making every effort to not worsen any injuries. He couldn’t remember any caves or even overhangs along the path behind him, so forward down the ravine he went, crunching through the scattered remnants of the ice worm’s snowy hiding place. He moved with all the care he could muster, scanning the walls of the ravine intently, looking for a cave, a hollow where he could find shelter from the sun. He didn’t know how many hours had passed when he found it. The cave opening wasn’t very large, he had to bend over to get inside. It wasn’t very deep either, and the opposite wall was low, the ravine having spread out as it wound its way out of the hills. There was a good chance that some sunlight would leak in, perhaps even enough to kill him, but he knew his time was limited, and he wasn’t likely to find anything better, so he crawled carefully inside and settled Serapha in his arms to wait.

He thought of Flame Song waiting at home. She would surely be worried by now, and when dawn came with no sign of them she was sure to start searching, along with the whole family. A family of firecats can track as few others can, but Aidan was all too aware of how they’d broken their trail. They’d flown, not just to the hills, but all up and down them, hunting. It could take long enough for Flame and the boys to unravel the scent trail that it would be too late for any help from them. If only I hadn’t wanted to come to the hills today, he thought bitterly. If I hadn’t wanted to explore we would never have run into the worm. Or if I’d taken Serapha’s suggestion and gone home for lunch instead of staying out to hunt… The litany of if only’s was endless and Aidan repeated them over and over to himself, trying to have hope, but sliding into hopelessness as the night lengthened.

Then, as Aidan looked down at his daughter, he saw something that gave him cause for hope. He thought he could no longer see the bone of her ribs through the blood. Her bleeding had stopped when her breath had, her heart no longer pumping blood, so there was no way the gleam of white could be suddenly covered unless she was healing. Gingerly, not wanting to interfere, her wiped blood away from the worst of the wounds. There was no mistaking it, the bone had now been covered in flesh. The wound was still raw and ugly looking, but she was healing! Aidan found himself crying again, this time in relief. It had worked! His daughter would live.

The rest of the long night passed all to quickly and soon the first faint hint of dawn was showing on the far horizon. Aidan couldn’t see it, hidden in the shallow cave, but he could sense it. The sun would soon rise. He took a deep breath, needing one psychologically if not physically, and gently placed the sun medallion, with its blood-red stone set in dark iron, around Serapha’s neck.

There was no immediate effect as Aidan removed the medallion, the sun had not even lipped the horizon as yet, and so he simply leaned back against the wall to await the coming day. When the sun rose, Aidan knew it. Even though no ray could reach where he was, he felt the stirring of a faint discomfort. Indirect light filtered down to his sensitive eyes, not bright enough to sting, not yet, but still much brighter than such dawn light would seem to a normal man. The cave Aidan had found was set in the east wall of the ravine, so as the sun rose Aidan could watch the shadow slowly retreat down the opposite wall. At first the new light just barely touched the top of the wall, illuminating a few stones that stood higher than their fellows, but gradually it slid lower, as if the shadows were too tired to remain upright and sagged gradually to the ground.

Aidan watched with resigned patience, enduring the increasing brilliance, the ever-growing discomfort as indirect light reflected off the far wall and entered the shallow cave. Eventually the shadows retreated all the way across the floor of the ravine and vanished as the sun stood directly overhead. Aidan closed his eyes against the almost unbearable brightness. He rested his fingers gently against the medallion, and it seemed to help a little bit, but he knew the spell that empowered it was meant to protect just one, not two.