Cruel Fortunes Omnibus: Volumes One to Four

by RAE STAPLETON

  Leslie took a deep breath, inhaling the aroma of sugary baked goodness. “You went out and got breakfast. You are such an angel.”

  Alana handed over the box.

  “I tried to get you one of those strudels that Da got me yesterday but they were sold out again already so I took a cab to this cupcake place instead.”

  “You found cupcakes!” Leslie clapped.

  “Yes, and they’re healthy. They use coconut butter, and whole wheat flour and they don’t add preservatives.”

  Leslie frowned but dove inside the box anyway. “Is that a Snickers?”

  She’d already peeled back the paper cup and taken a bite before Alana could respond. She moaned and leaned her head back, her long, dark hair reaching further down her spine. “So good. Doesn’t taste healthy at all, thank goodness.”

  Alana chuckled. “I think that’s one of the original recipes, so probably not healthy.”

  Leslie shrugged her shoulders. “You’re up early today and looking very local.”

  Alana spun and took a sip of her cappuccino. It had whip cream and chocolate drizzled on it. She normally left the sweet stuff to Leslie but today she seemed to be feeling spunky. “I had time to kill. I bought the dress from the shop downstairs. I figured I’d allow ye to sleep in. Ye were snoring pretty loud.”

  “I do not snore!” Leslie said, spilling her coffee as she set it down with a thud. “Oops.”

  “Ye don’t spill either, I bet.” Alana walked into her bedroom, giggling at her own joke and then returned to the living room with a packed suitcase in hand. “I can’t believe Da is still sleepin’. He never sleeps in. I brought him a coconut cream and we should probably leg it or we’ll miss our train.”

  Leslie turned away from Alana and began folding the messy items in her suitcase so that Alana wouldn’t read her face.

  “Actually, Cullen had to leave early this morning. There was a problem on a jobsite and he had to make a pit stop.”

  “What?” Alana questioned. For a moment neither of them spoke. “Why would he do that?”

  “I’m not sure, honey, but there’s no need to worry.”

  “It’s odd. Why would he go check a jobsite? We’re about to find my mum and he’s concerned with work.”

  “What are you doing?”

  “What do ye think I’m doing?” Alana replied punching numbers into the phone. “I’m ringin’ his mobile.”

  “Alana, for pity’s sake, your Da is stressed enough. He doesn’t need you calling and rubbing his nose in it—besides the job is on the way. He just caught an earlier train to Deva. He’ll meet us there.”

  “But his jobsite was in Germany. That’s why we flew there first and travelled by train here.”

  “Maybe he has two projects happening.” Leslie shoved a piece of the chocolate cupcake into her mouth and then held out the last bite. “Come here, you have to try this.”

  Leslie released a sigh of relief when Alana opened her mouth and allowed herself to be distracted by the sugar.

  SIXTYONE

  S eated comfortably on the train to Bucharest, Alana tried to doze off. Leslie had been out like a light pretty much since they sat down. The woman had a gift for eating and sleeping.

  Alana reached into her bag and took out the tourist book she’d bought at the shop in Hungary. She flipped through the pages, heading for the section on Bran Castle but she was drawn to the page before. Corvin Castle. It was in Hunedoara, that was the place that weird lady from the library had mentioned. She read the first page, which talked about the legendary Dracula and how he had once been a prisoner in the famous torture chambers there.

  Alana was sure she’d watched a video before where a ghost hunting show had tried to spend the night at this castle. The images had made her nauseous. She was a good Irish lass and, as such, a touch superstitious. Her skin crawled when she thought of touring the lower areas of the Castle. She chided herself for being silly. The spooky tales of Corvin Castle were rubbish—so outlandish that they were hardly believable at all. Then again, she hadn’t believed in a lot of things, like time travel or reincarnation, until Leslie had told her about her mother’s adventures. The whole thing was so completely absurd but what was the alternative? Believing her mother was dead. What would it be like to visit another time? Her mother’s bedtime tales all seemed suspicious now. How many were first-hand accounts?

  Alana noticed Leslie’s nails—usually manicured and painted brightly—were now chipped and chewed short. Something was bothering her. Like, maybe why Da would go off to a jobsite right now, even one on the way? It didn’t make sense. Besides, he only ever worked on one castle at a time and his jobsite had been in Germany. Something definitely was not adding up.

  SIXTYTWO

  L eslie woke and found herself wedged against Alana, head lolling on the shoulder of Alana’s sweater. Alana was staring out the window, tuned into the passing scenery of countryside, the letters from her mother stored neatly on her lap. Underneath them was a book open to Corvin Castle.

  Leslie felt her heart quicken. What had Alana found out?

  “Ye awake?” Alana asked in a soft voice.

  Leslie closed her eyes again, feigning sleep.

  “I’m no tool. Ye’ve stopped snorin’.”

  The train plunged into a tunnel with great jolting and shrieking, and Leslie bolted upright, wiping the drool from her chin. No point in continuing with that little charade. They both knew Helen Keller couldn’t have slept through that racquet.

  “I do not snore,” Leslie said as the train emerged once again into the light.

  Alana turned to look at her, her eyes full of faraway thoughts or perhaps just full of the land beyond the window, the mountainous Romanian farm country. Leslie watched her take a deep breath.

  “I tried Da on the mobile while ye took yer kip.”

  “Really?” Leslie said, her voice cracking halfway through.

  “He didn’t answer, so why don’t ye tell me why that is?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking— .”

  “Drop the act, Leslie. Ye’re pure Ned.”

  The train climbed through spectacular mountain passes until eventually they moved into the flat country. Here there were only patches of snow and the countryside was bare and gray.

  “Where did you say the jobsite was again? Deva?” Alana needled. “I looked up Deva but there were no Castles there. Something doesn’t feel right, Leslie.”

  Leslie grabbed the book from Alana’s lap and began reading about Corvin Castle.

  “Just because he’s taking the train to Deva, it doesn’t mean the Castle’s there.”

  “No. That’s true. I think we should get off in Deva, though, anyway. Ye said he’ll be catchin’ the train there, right? So, we’ll switch to his train; then we’ll all be together.”

  “We can’t do that. Besides, I’m not sure what time his train is coming through.”

  “What aren’t ye tellin’ me? Spill it.”

  Leslie glanced down and cursed —a guilty gesture, to be sure.

  “I promised your idiotic father that I wouldn’t tell you, but I don’t want to lie to you. Can’t you just please trust me?”

  “I will not. Now tell me.”

  Leslie heaved a hopeless sigh. “He’s not meeting us at Bran Castle.”

  “What do ye mean? Why not?” Alana’s voice was high-pitched with distress; it rang out loudly in the small confined space of the train.

  “Shhh. Something came up in his meeting with the Professor and they realized that the picture we have of your mother was taken in front of Corvin Castle, not Bran Castle.”

  “Great! So what’s with the wild goose chase?”

  “He decided at 2 am this morning that he didn’t want you going with him.”

  “And he left ye behind too, did he?”

  “He thought it would be safer if I stayed with you.” Leslie turned to Alana, whose eyes were now filled with tears. “Alana, honey, he got nervous and panicked.
I’m sorry. I couldn’t change his mind.”

  A tear rolled down Alana’s cheek.

  “It’s understandable when you think about it. While we’re excited at the prospect of finding your mom—your Da is the one feeling most of the pressure. Imagine it from his perspective, he is the one—after all—who has to travel through time and he’s never done that before.”

  “That’s why we should be with him. Besides, ye weren’t losing yer shite when ye were going too.”

  “I have faith in magic—your Da still struggles to wrap his head around how all this is possible. I think sometimes he believes that your mom is really dead and wonders if I’m delusional.”

  “Then why would he go through with it.”

  “Hope.”

  “So, ye were just going to lie to me and then what? Hope I wouldn’t notice?”

  “No. Your mother said time stood still when she travelled or at least she always returned home at the moment she left so your Da thought that he would be back with your Mother in time to meet us at Bran Castle. He didn’t want you to worry.”

  “So he’s already in the past?”

  “No. He’s on his way to Corvin Castle. He’s performing the spell tonight. The blood moon will be his best chance and, if it works, then yes, hopefully he’ll be there and back within the same second…at least to us.”

  “That is if it works. Since when can Da work magic?”

  “To be honest, he can’t. He hasn’t been successful with the simplest of spells, but we did practice. He’s very lyrical and capable of reading a spell and I’m sure in the moment that it matters, the magic will flow through him.”

  “How can ye have agreed to this?”

  “He didn’t give me much of a choice, Alana. He was sneaking out in the middle of the night. Besides, it won’t hurt him to try and if it doesn’t work, then you or I will cast the spell on Samhain.”

  Alana’s head snapped up. “What if it does work but she’s not there?” she said. Her face was strained, and small lines were visible around her eyes. “He doesn’t know what he’s doin’. He can’t even work a recipe. What if he gets trapped there? Then I’ll be an orphan.” Her full lower lip trembled slightly. “I need him. Damn it, I need them both. This is so hard.”

  Alana’s hands clenched suddenly tight on her knees, and she bent forward, as though trying to contain some sudden pain.

  “You were going to attempt to travel through time with him, weren’t you?”

  She nodded.

  Leslie stroked her hair. “You’re almost grown now, Alana, please try to understand.”

  “Ye’re the one who doesn’t understand!” Alana pressed her lips tight together and swallowed hard, then turned to Leslie, eyes dark with distress.

  “Ye only want Mum back and I do, too, but he’s all that’s left, Leslie. The only one who really loves me. He and Mum—they loved me even when I messed up. They’re the ones who saw me learn to walk and were proud of me when I brought home good marks, and who—” She broke off, and the tears overflowed, leaving tracks running down her pale, freckled cheeks. “This sounds childish,” she said and sprang to her feet, unable to sit still. “It’s like—they’re the ones who really know me. They’re in all of my memories,” she said, collapsing her head into her hands. “Do ye know what it’s like to imagine them gone? I’ll be alone. She’s already gone and if he’s gone, there won’t be a soul left in the world who really loves me.” She raised her head back up, lip quivering in an effort to control herself. Then her shoulders slumped and the fight went out of her. “And I’m a truly selfish arsehole,” she said, in a quiet reasonable tone.

  “No,” Leslie replied. “You are a strong, brave and amazing woman.” She stood and wrapped her arms around Alana. “But you’re wrong,” Leslie said. “You still have me and your Gran-Da.”

  “Gran-da is old and he’s always with his girlfriend,” Alana said, with a sniffling attempt at a laugh. “Whoever she is at the time.”

  “Well you have me.” Leslie gave Alana a slight squeeze. “I was there when you came into the world. Your Da may have been the one holding Sophia’s hand but I was the one braced against her leg, helping to push and watching as you fought your way into this world. I watched you take your first breath. That’s not a cliché. I really did. Then they took you over to the little station to clean you up and measure you and listen to your chest and your mom, god bless her soul, she didn’t want you to be alone so she shooed me over there. Of course, I gladly went. And you wrapped that tiny little fist around my finger and stopped crying and I knew that I would love you forever as if you were my own.”

  Alana sighed, and Leslie let go of her then, and stepped back. Her face was tear-streaked, too.

  “What I’m trying to say is I know you need your parents. Believe it or not, I need them too, but this may be the only way we can get your Mom back. We risk your Da to get them both. It’s a gamble and God forgive us if we lose them both, but no matter what, you’ll always have me.” As she spoke, the train began to slow. They could hear the squealing of brakes.

  “Deva!” the conductor called.

  “Leslie. Grab yer bags. This is our stop.”

  “No, Alana, we can’t. We’ll meet him at Bran like we promised.”

  “I didn’t promise. Deva is the closest this train is going to get to Hunedoara and my Da’s life is at stake. Now, grab yer luggage, we’re going to catch up with him.”

  The train jerked to a halt, and Leslie looked helplessly out the window at the platform of a small station.

  “We can’t just get off, Alana. We don’t have transportation arranged to take us to the Castle and I need to talk to him first. He’ll have my head if we just show up.”

  “We have a problem then, because that’s just what I’m doing.”

  Alana pushed her way off the train. Outside, people were dressed in layers against the cold and they were rushing for their trains. Alana looked back, experiencing second thoughts. Leslie hadn’t followed her.

  She was on her own now. She felt a pain in her chest and she fought the urge to run back to the train. She could hear the doors closing.

  She turned in a circle and gazed hard into the crowd, looking for an exit. That was when she suddenly noticed the woman in the familiar, long skirt. She stood surveying the platform. She had a black scarf tied over her hair, framing a white face. She was a little too far away to see clear features, but Alana caught a flash of dark eyes and bright lipstick. It was enough to make the back of Alana’s neck prickle. There was something oddly familiar about that silhouette and those block-heeled boots. The woman was scanning the train up and down as the platform emptied out. Alana drew back instinctively. The woman hadn’t seen her, although she took a hovering step in her direction. Then she seemed to change her mind and turned away to scan another train, which had just pulled in on the opposite side of the platform.

  Something about her stern, straight back kept Alana staring until the train began to move again, snapping her into the moment.

  Was it a coincidence that the woman from the library had been on their train?

  Alana turned to go and ran smack into a petite, dark-haired woman. A sob caught in her throat. Leslie had followed her after all.

  SIXTYTHREE

  I t was almost dark now, but from what Alana could see they were driving through a small medieval city with narrow cobbled streets, picturesque fountains and tall gabled houses. Lights shone out and the streets were almost deserted. Those few pedestrians they passed were bundled into shapeless forms against the cold. As they left the town behind, rain started to fall in earnest, painting the buildings and ground with a layer of shine. The driver mumbled something in whatever language he spoke, presumably Romanian. For a while they drove in silence. Then the road entered a dark pine forest and started to climb.

  Up and up they drove, the road twisting back and forth around hairpin bends with glimpses of a sickening drop on one side. Alana was beginning to feel queasy from
being flung from side to side around those bends. Leslie’s bony elbow dug into Alana’s rib. Rain was falling so fast now that it was hard to see what was road and what might have been a ditch beside it. The driver sat up very straight, peering ahead through the windshield into murky darkness. There was not a light to be seen, only dark forest and rocky cliffs, illuminated by the taxi’s headlights.

  “The castle is not going to be open,” Leslie said. Her voice sounded tense and strained. “The Professor had a friend working here who was going to let your Da in but he’s probably gone by now and your Da will never hear us knocking.”

  At last they came to the top of the pass.

  “What’s that?” Leslie whispered, pointing into the darkness on the other side of the road.

  The driver grinned, showing his pointy teeth. “Corvin,” he said.

  Lights shone from the crest of something, a rocky outcropping, towering over the road, wreathed in mist. As they peered out of the window, they could make out the shape of a creepy Gothic castle, with its drawbridge over a rushing river, so old and formidable looking that it appeared to be part of the rock itself.

  The motorcar drove through a pair of massive wooden gates that had been mysteriously left open. Then it came to a halt in the courtyard and the driver turned towards the backseat.

  “Careful—wolves and ghoulies,” he said.

  Alana said nothing and stepped from the car. The evening air was cold and misty, and she was glad for the wool sweater. She peered up in horror at the towering stone battlements that seemed to stretch into the sky all around them.

  “My God,” she said. “It’s like we’ve already stepped back in time.” She turned to Leslie, who had just emerged on the other side of the taxi.

  “Yes,” Leslie said, half-choked with terror. “This is definitely the place from the picture. I just hope we made the right decision coming here, maybe we should go into town and wait for your Da to call us back.”