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vampirism. She paid him little attention and drifted in and out of eye contact. She hid any

suffering she may have been experiencing behind an enigmatic air of vampire royalty. Even with

her chained, Zuba felt puny in her presence, and of no importance, except when he mentioned the

Kabbalah-Chron and then she became the interrogator. Sooth warned him about too much

conversation with the Darkling, the full extent of her powers still a mystery.

Daka had become fascinated with the Kabbalah-Chron. He studied it and asked Zuba

questions about its operation and origin. He served the queen’s needs humbly and with great

affection. No job was too small. His heart went out to her and her comfort was his reward.

Cane and Raki passed the time with the royal guards. They kept watch over the desert, ever

vigilant for Moroccan soldiers. They received the Rhune Mystics, the only human inhabitants of

the deep desert. At night, the mysterious traders, dressed in cobalt blue robes and black head

wraps with only their eyes visible, brought food, water, spices, and comfort items to the caves on

camel caravans: Persian rugs, beds, chairs, tables, and opulent robes from the orient for a queen

and prince in exile; items the strange desert nomads would never use themselves were given

without payment or conversation. Then, like ghosts, dark angels even, they disappeared into the

night.

Raki and Cane created as close to royal accommodations as caves could provide. And

thanks to the Rhunes, Omar soon rested on a beautiful canopy bed from the Ottoman Empire, with

a sheepskin mattress and flowing silks from Marrakesh.

GoGo entered Omar’s bedchamber and looked around at the opulence. She never stopped

thinking to herself how devoted her men were to have created such a palace in these barren caves.

She walked over to Omar’s bed. Sooth was there as always.

“No change,” he said softly, “but he shouldn’t be moved anymore.”

Sooth respectfully departed the room. GoGo sat next to the bed. She removed Omar’s

sketchbook from her robe. She looked through her son’s haunting drawings of his adventures.

They were more like a pictorial journal of the sights and spectacles of Africa; wild animals, exotic

plants, and the primitive tribes he’d encountered. She thumbed through the pages and marveled at