Ashes of Iris

by Stephanie Poscente

  “Alright, let's go this way.”

  He turned to the street and waited as a car passed. Sophie smiled at the way he held out an arm in front of her, as if to provide protection. Despite her reservations, she had to admit he was charming, and something stirred in her when he glanced her way. Following him across the empty street, she stepped over the low curb and onto a bed of flattened weeds and grass. He led her through a small grassy space before entering a mass of trees and shrubs. As they navigated their way through the brush and branches, Sophie was reminded of her exploration of the woods surrounding the castle, and Lukas's face appeared in her mind. She thought of asking Jude whether he knew anything of the castle's history, but decided against it.

  They walked in silence, aside from Sophie’s frequent stumbles and whispered complaints. More than once she stopped and strained to listen, sure she had heard something in the thick trees beside her. Jude paid no attention, pressing onwards without glancing back at her.

  “Just through here,” He said, finally stopping.

  He motioned for her to go ahead, holding a thick branch above his head to allow her room. The dense forest in front of her looked eerily similar to a scene from one of the murder investigation shows her aunt watched. She could be walking straight into a trap, and she knew it. But Jude said he knew something about the castle and she had come too far to protest now. She pushed through the branches, feeling Jude's warmth behind her as she stepped into an open field. She had not taken more than two steps before noticing that it was not a vacant space, as she had expected. It was the wide yard of the church – she could see it in the distance – but they had come in from the opposite side so that its rear wall faced them now.

  “That was quite the detour,” she said, turning to Jude.

  He laughed as he stepped through the barrier of trees and ran a hand through his hair again.

  “It's simpler to come in from this way,” he said. “There are no windows on the back wall.”

  “Are windows bad?” she asked hesitantly.

  “No, not usually. Where we need to go is not supposed to be accessed, you see. Coming this way avoids any unnecessary questioning.”

  “Jude, I-”

  “Just trust me, Sophie,” he said, leaning toward her. “You need to know.”

  With a nod, she followed him over the grass, keeping to the shadows. They rounded the back of the church, and he led her toward an overgrown garden shrouded by thick bushes, their untrimmed branches blocking her view.

  “Watch your step,” he cautioned the same moment a jutting branch scraped her bare ankle and she cursed under her breath. “Those shoes might not be the most fitting.”

  Sophie glanced down at her flip-flops and shook her head.

  “I wasn't dressing for an impromptu abduction,” she said. “I should be at home right now.”

  “That castle is not your home,” he said quietly, his attention focused on an overgrown pile of brush in the far corner of the garden.

  “You know what I mean,” she answered. “I just wasn't expecting this. Where are we going? My feet are getting mutilated in here. You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say this is a convenient place to hide a body.”

  She expected him to laugh at her sarcasm, but instead he turned to her with a frown. Leaning in toward her so that their eyes were almost level, his eyes raked over her face, pausing on her lips.

  “I know you're joking,” he said softly, tilting his head to the side, “but you're not far off.”

  Sophie froze, rooted to the spot. He looked at her carefully before cracking a tiny smile and motioning for her to follow him.

  “Over here,” he said, walking away.

  “Jude,” Sophie said, “I don't know what you're trying to show me, but I'd like to go home. To the castle, I mean. Anywhere but here.”

  “Are you frightened of me?” he asked, turning to her again.

  “N-no,” she stammered, taking a step back and shaking her head. “Should I be?”

  Raising his eyebrows, Jude shrugged and, without a word, turned his back on her and began pulling away loose branches and leaves from the pile. Sophie did not move to help, but stayed back, looking around at the sprawling weeds and bushes with wary eyes. The sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows over the ground and making the atmosphere more threatening than it might have been otherwise. She shivered and hugged herself, watching him sift through the dried bracken.

  “What exactly is the point of all this?” she asked.

  Pulling a twisted branch from the pile, Jude wiped his brow with his arm and turned to her.

  “I ask myself that question frequently,” he said. “What is the point?”

  With furrowed eyebrows, Sophie watched him clear enough of the brush away to uncover a darkened mass. A thick splintered stump protruded from its top. He sat back on his heels, wiping his hands on his jean-clad thighs, and sighed. Sophie stepped forward, and knelt beside him, reaching uneasily toward the pile as if to stroke it.

  “Don't touch it,” he said softly, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand back.

  “It looks burnt,” Sophie said. “Was there a fire here?”

  She glanced around the garden, but nothing besides the pile had any sign of burn damage. Even through the overgrown plants, she could see that no fire had ravaged there in recent years. Jude was shaking his head, looking at her with sadness in his eyes.

  “There was only fire when it was meant for something,” he said. “Only when the residents of this town had something they thought worthwhile to burn. Or,” he hesitated, leaning closer to her, “someone.”

  “No,” Sophie breathed. Her mind rejected the idea of the pile in front of her being used for murder. “I don't believe you.”

  Jude nodded sympathetically.

  “It is hard to believe,” he said, “but I promise you, there is no reason for me to lie. I wanted to bring you here and show you why it is that you are haunted in the Isa Caecilia. It is all connected to this pillar, this weapon of death, and you need to know the truth.”

  “Rausch,” Sophie whispered under her breath, not meaning for Jude to hear, but his head snapped up and he peered at her with wide eyes.

  “What did you say?” he asked sharply.

  Sophie looked into his face, afraid of what he knew, and what he didn’t. She decided it would be best to hide her own knowledge for the time being.

  “I said it’s horrible. To think of being burned alive-” her voice trailed.

  “Yes, but that is not why I wanted to show you this. I want you to know who she is and why she haunts the halls of that castle.”

  Now it was Sophie’s turn to stare wide-eyed.

  “How do you know that?” she asked, careful to keep her voice low.

  “Where else would she go? She was caught like a fly in her own trap, forced into the same bleak fate that was cast upon some others when she uttered those cursed words. I know because I have done my share of research. There are tales, recordings, and various remaining bits of information. They are not terribly detailed, but they do tell of the curse. Or, of what was heard of it through the noise of her execution. These are things that will always be of keen interest to me, and you have ignited an entirely new, and promising, turn of events. I do not know all I should, but I know for certain that you are in danger.”

  There was a moment of silence. Sophie was skimming through his words with building suspicion.

  Finally, she spoke.

  “You wanted privacy, you said you’d explain. Well,” she motioned to their surroundings, “I’d say this is pretty private, wouldn’t you?”

  Jude hesitated, casting his eyes away from her, twisting his hands in his lap. He opened his mouth to speak, but closed it again, seemingly at a loss for words. Sophie watched him carefully. His body language was resistant, but she could sense he wanted to tell her the truth. He looked at her again, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth set in a hard line.

 
“It's-” Jude began, running a hand through his hair, “it's complicated.”

  Before Sophie could protest, a car horn sounded in the distance, bringing them both back to reality. Jude crouched in the shadows, craning his neck to see through a tiny break in the bushes and she slunk to his side. He held an arm out in front of her, as he had done at the street, and pressed a finger to his mouth. She obeyed his signal to be silent, barely breathing as he watched whoever it was cross the front lawn of the church and up the stairs, disappearing from their sight. When the figure had gone, Sophie let out a long exhale, and Jude leaned toward her. He smiled at her frightened expression and stroked the top of her arm.

  “It was only a caretaker,” he said softly, “nothing to worry about. We need to be quick now, so you must listen carefully. I'll tell you what I know and then we can see the church, if you still want to.”

  Sophie nodded once, unsure of whether she still wanted to set foot in the building, and he smiled again. Something flipped in the pit of her stomach at the warmth in his eyes, but she forced it away as he began to speak again.

  “This pillar was used to burn witches, prophets or any other human claiming to possess supernatural power,” he explained. “A hundred and some odd years ago, this piece,” he motioned to the jagged stump protruding from the base, “would have stood over seven feet tall and its base would have been surrounded by dried grass, branches, anything they could find that would ignite quickly and burn efficiently.”

  Sophie shuddered and wrapped her arms around herself, shrinking away from the charred mass. Jude cast an apologetic glance in her direction, but continued nonetheless.

  “The unfortunate soul would have been bound to the pillar,” he stopped, looking from the pile to Sophie and raising his eyebrows. “You know what would happen next.”

  “It's disgusting,” Sophie whispered, “all because they were different?”

  “Not because they were different,” Jude shook his head, “because they were dangerous. That was the belief, then. The church burned many people – afraid for the safety of the townspeople, yes, but of the power of their religion, their traditions, as well. It was a show of power and authority. Who could stand up to that?”

  “Someone,” Sophie said, “anyone.”

  Jude shook his head again. “Most of the townspeople came to witness,” he said, his tone flat. “It was a common belief that witches were entangled with the devil. It was fear that drove them to believe, but I sometimes wonder if it's not the truth.”

  “What!” Sophie exclaimed. “You can't be-”

  “No, no, no,” Jude held up his hands toward her. “I'm not saying it was right, Sophie, believe me. I'm just saying that, from what I've learned of Ziva-”

  “Ziva,” Sophie repeated quietly. “That's her name?”

  “Yes, that's her name.”

  “What did she do?” she asked, curiosity saturating her voice. “Was she terrible?”

  “Like I said before,” Jude hesitated, “it's complicated. We can meet again and I will tell you more, but the sun is going down and your aunt will be worried.”

  Sophie raised an eyebrow, causing him to laugh.

  “Maybe not,” he chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. “She did leave you alone with a strange man quite easily. I was prepared for more of a struggle.”

  “I'm not very happy about it, either,” Sophie shook her head with a grimace. “She's always raving about her excellent judge of character. It's almost a shame you didn't murder me, maybe that would have taught her a lesson.”

  Jude laughed quietly.

  “The night is young,” he winked. “We should move along if you want to see the church.”

  “Actually,” Sophie took Jude's hand when he offered it and he pulled her to her feet, “I don't think I want to see it.”

  “Why? You should see inside, it's beautiful.”

  “Yeah,” she took a deep breath, “maybe another time. I'm a little freaked out by all this.” She swept her hand out, gesturing to the garden, the church, the blackened pile behind them.

  “It’s a shame, really, are you sure?” he pressed.

  She only nodded.

  With a nod in return, Jude led the way from the garden, once again holding the branches away as she passed under his arm. She caught the scent of his skin as she ducked around him; it reminded her of something she couldn't place and she found herself inhaling deeply. He smiled down at her once they reached the sidewalk.

  “Last chance,” he raised his eyebrows.

  “Not today. I suppose I should call Aunt Marilyn,” Sophie sighed as Jude pulled his cell phone from his pocket. “She's probably shoulders deep in ribbon or something.”

  Jude laughed quietly and Sophie couldn't help smiling as she dialed the numbers, feeling more comfortable than she ought to after what she'd just heard.

  When she hung up the phone after listening to her aunt gloat – “I told you he wasn't a murderer, didn't I?” – she walked to the stairs of the church and sat down, watching Jude as he followed her. His body was lean and tan, it was obvious that he spent much of his time outdoors. Taking a seat next to her, he took to twisting a blade of grass between his fingers and whistling quietly. She leaned her elbows on her knees and looked across the gravel driveway into the shadows of the trees beyond. For a moment, she was sure she saw something moving, but when she craned her neck and squinted through the sunlight, it had vanished.

  “Jude?” Sophie asked.

  “Hm?”

  “Do you like it here?”

  He looked at her and then the ground, pondering his answer for a moment.

  “I do,” he said. “It's quiet. The people aren't much to rave about, but that's not their fault. This town comes with a lot of baggage.” He looked down at her again. “Why do you ask?”

  “Just curious,” she shrugged.

  Aunt Marilyn pulled up after a few more silent minutes and Sophie rose to leave. Before she reached the car, Jude grabbed her hand and pulled her around to face him. Casting a look over her shoulder, Sophie saw Aunt Marilyn fiddling with the radio and looking out her window in a poor attempt to avoid staring.

  “Can I see you again?” Jude raised his eyebrows as he asked, making something deep in the pit of her stomach flutter like a hummingbird's wings.

  “Um, I… maybe,” she stammered, taken aback both by the intensity in his eyes and the unfamiliar sensation in her stomach. “It's a little busy, you know, with the wedding and stuff.”

  “That's alright,” he shrugged. “I just thought we should talk more. You must be quite overwhelmed.”

  “Oh, okay. I mean, sure,” she bit her lip for a second before speaking again. “When?”

  “Tomorrow?” he asked, “I can pick you up, if that's easier? I'll take you for dinner.”

  His smile was hopeful and Sophie could not stand the sensation it evoked within her, but something in the back of her mind wanted to know more.

  “Okay,” she said, afraid to meet his gaze, she could feel the blush in her cheeks and hoped he had not seen. “Tomorrow, then.”

  With a brief wave, Sophie turned to the car, pulling the door open and sidling into the seat. Aunt Marilyn had a silent smile plastered on her face. She did not turn as Sophie slammed the door. Jude backed away with his hands in his pockets as the car revved and turned around in a wide half-circle before speeding back up the drive. He watched until they had rounded the corner before turning to the church.

  With a sigh, he started up the stairs, looking up when the door swung open from inside. A tall man in black robes stood just inside the threshold, smiling as Jude approached.

  “Well, well,” the man said, holding out one hand. “We've been expecting you. Where's the girl?”

  Chapter 9

  “Have fun?” Aunt Marilyn asked casually as she navigated the gravel road leading to the castle. The majority of the short drive had been spent in silence, owing mostly to Sophie's refusal to answer her aunt's prodding questions.r />
  “I've told you,” she replied, “it was fine. I don't appreciate you leaving me high and dry with some random stranger, though. Thanks for that, by the way.”

  “You're being ridiculous, Sophie,” Aunt Marilyn laughed. “I can judge character better than anyone. I knew he was safe the moment I laid eyes on him. And he is easy on the eyes, isn't he?”

  Sophie sniffed, crossing her arms and turning away, watching the thick forest pass as they sped down the narrow lane. Her mind wandered over the past few hours and she pondered the things she had learned while trying to stifle her emotional reaction to Jude. She rolled down the window, despite her aunt's protest, and let the wind whip her hair about her face. The musk of the forest was thick in the warm spring air and it surprised her by making her mouth water. Only then did she realize she hadn't eaten since their lunch at the bakery.

  The car pulled to a stop at the base of the front stairs, and Sophie shoved the door open without a word and bounded up them, heading straight for the dining room. A platter of food sat on the serving table, covered in a wide silver dish. Her stomach growled in anticipation. The pasta and sauce was devoured in minutes – so quickly she barely even tasted in it – and she sat, leaning back in her chair with her hands splayed across her belly. She closed her eyes in contentment before the sound of her sister's voice floated to her ears.

  “How was your date?”

  Sophie couldn't help but frown as she sat up and turned in her chair. Katie approached the table, a tiny mocking smile on her painted lips.

  “It wasn't a date,” she replied, raising her eyebrows in denial. “I was left stranded.”

  “Mmhmm,” Katie pulled out the chair opposite Sophie and perched on its edge. “Sure, stranded. Sounds to me like you had quite the afternoon.”

  “It was fine. Not a big deal. What do you need me to do now?”

  “Are you trying to get out of telling me the details?” Katie pouted. “There's nothing to do tonight, everything is put away for now. We're almost caught up. I knew, if everyone started pulling their weight, that we could get it done. Now, back to you and your-”