Temple of Indra's Curse (Time-Traveling Bibliophile Book 2)

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Temple of Indra's Curse (Time-Traveling Bibliophile Book 2) Page 11

by Rachael Stapleton


  Three drawers later I found some votives and a box of matches.

  I set the cinnamon candles aglow on the coffee table and sat back down. “Sorry ‘bout this.”

  “What, like you knew the electricity would go out?” She laughed. “Or was this all part of your master plan to get out of watching a scary movie? Did Rochus give you a spell for just such an occasion?”

  I snickered, but my eyes immediately shot down to the coffee table. There was a Kleenex box and remote. “No. No. That he did not.”

  “What are you thinking about? The book?”

  “No. Maybe. Yes.”

  “Come on, Sophia. Let’s call on him for help.”

  “I don’t know.”

  “What—why not? You’re super-freaked out that Nick’s after you, and we can’t watch the movie anyway.”

  “Yeah, well anything’s better than watching that stupid movie.”

  I paused, then reached under the coffee table and pulled the book out, running my hands over the familiar design.

  The room’s dim lighting made the faint shimmer that danced from within more prominent, as if to once again alert me to just the right spot in the book.

  “Quit stalling and open it.”

  “Okay, okay. I’m just kind of nervous about playing with magic. It hasn’t exactly gone off without a hitch in the past, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  Thumbing through the pages, I searched for a spell. “Here’s one, but it says we need to create an incense portal for summoning ancestor spirits from the otherworld.”

  Leslie peeked over my shoulder. “And we will need a picture, lavender, cinnamon, and wormwood.”

  “Great. Like I just have all that stuff lying around.”

  I flipped to the next page that was emanating a faint glow.

  “What about that one—it’s a summoning spell, too, but you don’t need the picture and you do already have lavender and cinnamon candles burning.”

  “I don’t know. It says it will take me ‘there.’ That sounds creepy. What if I get stuck in the nineteenth century again?”

  “No. It says it will take your spirit to commune. It doesn’t say you’ll actually time travel.”

  “I wonder if this is the spell Rochus used in the library that time to call me to him?”

  “Maybe. What was it like? I don’t remember you ever really giving me details.”

  I gave her a look. Leslie had originally thought I was losing my mind when I’d tried to tell her about Rochus and my time travel.

  “What?” she questioned innocently.

  “It felt like I was in a washing machine and when the motion stopped, iridescent colors swirled around me. It was like I was floating inside a bubble and Rochus was sitting outside the bubble at his wooden table.”

  “What are you going to say to him, anyway?”

  “I’m gonna ask him what Nico wanted with the book.” I said, growing more determined.

  “I thought you said he wanted it for its magic?”

  “Yes, but I wonder if there’s a particular spell that he’s after. And I know you won’t like this, Leslie, but I need to know if there is a way to destroy it.”

  “You can’t! Sophia, this is history. This is magic. It’s a phenomenon. It belongs in a museum.”

  “Les, I know, but if it fell into Nick’s hands…” I shuddered at the thought. “You should go in the other room.”

  She didn’t respond.

  “I don’t want to put you in danger, and I don’t know what will happen.”

  “I’m not going anywhere,” Leslie said, pushing her glasses back up her nose. “If something goes wrong, then I’m going to be here to help you.”

  “Fine,” I whispered, secretly grateful not to be alone. I began reading, taking care in the candlelight not to make a mistake.

  “I call upon the ancient power to help me in my darkest hour. Spirit from the other side, help me cross now the great divide. Beloved spirit, Rochus, wish me well. Take me to you at the sound of the bell.”

  When I finished I stared down at the page.

  “Was something supposed to happen?” Leslie asked.

  “I don’t understand,” I said, flipping the book closed and then opening it back up to the glowing page.

  “Wait a minute, it says when you jingle the bell. Maybe you need a bell?” she suggested.

  “I don’t have a bell,” I said, looking down. “But maybe Gigi’s necklace will work,” I said, running and retrieving it from my bedroom.

  I sat back down and kissed one of the stones for good luck. A little help here, Gigi?

  I repeated the words once again, my finger following the letters as I went, and at the end I jingled my necklace like a bell.

  ***

  The darkness of the dungeon was absolute, but the way was unfortunately burned into my mind. A memory so terrible I hadn’t been able to forget it. So far I was correct. I found it upsetting that the spell had brought me to the last place I’d seen Rochus—the gardens of Saint Martin, where Nico’s henchman Henri had taken me as a threat to keep me in line.

  I stopped to collect myself, pushing away the memory of Rochus in pain, left eye freshly gouged out. You must keep going. I ran my hand along the cold walls and counted doors and passageways as I went. I hoped this wasn’t a sign that he’d never been rescued. To live through this twice was excruciating. Turning when it was time to turn, I found and slunk down the stairway. Two lefts and I began to hear voices as I entered a corridor where the darkness flickered orange with the light of a torch set in the wall.

  I crept toward the light and the sound of boots scraping on stone.

  I hoped only Rochus would be able to see and hear me and I would have no need to worry about the guards.

  I peered through the bars, squinting into the darkness of the cell. A shape huddled against the back wall, a person too tired and cold to care about the outside world. Arms wrapped around legs, and head tucked between knees. He was trembling—I could hear his breath. I shifted, and the light glanced over his crouched form. His gray, unruly hair looked black from the distance and his skin was dirty.

  “Rochus,” I said. “Rochus, it’s me.” He didn’t move. Oh lord, was he dead? I longed to run and give him comfort. Something I’d failed to do the day Henri had brought me here. Sickened by the blood, I’d been weak and scared.

  Keys...I needed keys, but they were most likely on the guard. The door was obviously locked but I reached for it anyway. My hand passed right through it. That’s right, I’m not really here. I walked through the bars and went to him.

  “Rochus, please be alive. It’s me, Sophia.”

  He looked up and I caught a glimpse of his torn, stained clothing.

  “Prinzessin.” Rochus’s voice was a murmur. “You’re safe. But where are the guards? This must be an ambush.”

  “No. It’s not. Nico’s dead.”

  “Thank the heavens,” Rochus said, sobs bursting from his throat.

  “It’s not all good news I bear. I failed, Rochus. I’m sorry. Sapphira is also—well, she’s gone. We tumbled from the balcony. Nico and I.”

  Tears sprang to my eyes.

  “How? But how are you here?” he burst out.

  “I used the summoning spell from your book. I’m only here in spirit…and for me it’s much later in time.” I looked down. “This is my fault and I’m so sorry you’ve had to suffer. Please know I asked the Prince to take care of you before I left him...before I fell. I don’t know how long this will last or when Charles will be here to rescue you. I only know I asked him to come.”

  Rochus reached out, sobs racking his frail body, but his hands flowed through me.

  “Rochus, I’m sorry. I’m just an illusion. Remember. It’s your spell.” I tried to make my voice as gentle as possible.

  He swallowed hard.

  “I wound up in the past again, in the body of my Great-Aunt Zafira, just as you suspected. Nico reincarnated as my uncle and he knocked me down the s
tairs. I don’t know what happened. I said the incantation but he wasn’t touching me or the gem at the time. So I guess I didn’t trap him. I woke up at home. Rochus, he keeps beating me and I don’t want to die this time. I need to know what he knows. Help me. Please.”

  “I wish I could. Nico took the book.” His jaw tightened fractionally. “I tried to hold out but—” His cries grew louder, and I feared guards from the outer corridors might hear and punish him.

  “Shh. It’s okay. I figured as much. He’s dead, so he no longer has the book, but he must have had a chance to look at it. Were there any spells in there that might have benefited him? Anything he could have communicated before he died that would have helped him in my present-day life? I mean, he didn’t have the jewel, so I don’t see how but—”

  He raised his hands to his face, covering his eyes—or rather, one of them.

  “What, Rochus? What is it?”

  “He didn’t need the stone for all the spells in that book. Just the time travel and there were a few others that would have been limited. He’s touched the stone, so he already possesses a small charge of its magic. That’s what enamored him in the first place.”

  “Well, what sort of spells are in there that could have helped him?”

  Rochus paused to think.

  “Mainly the dreamweaver.”

  “You mean the dreamwalker. I read that spell. It sent me into his mind. It was awful.”

  “They are similar, but the weaver is more powerful. It’s a communication spell. You say he defeated you. Maybe that’s how. He can send messages through dreams. He may even be able to tap into you. Use the protection prayer. There’s something else I must divulge before you go—something I should have told you.”

  “Yes?” I whispered.

  “The blame is mine. I should never have tried to save the Prinzessin. Bunita warned me, but I meddled.”

  “What are you talking about, Rochus?”

  “I am the keeper. I was chosen to protect the stone. That’s why I had the book of magic. That book has been passed down through my family for generations.” He broke off, trying to stifle the sob which rose in his throat. “It was my duty to set things right should the stone enamor anyone, but I failed because Sapphira was my friend. I didn’t know when to give up.” He bit his lip and sat silent, twisting his hands. Then he looked up suddenly, swallowing hard, and fixed his one remaining eye unwaveringly on me. “I was never supposed to get involved with Sapphira.”

  “You’re saying you should have just let Nico kill her and take the stone? How would that have helped?”

  “I should have returned the stone to the deity. That would have ended the cycle and only the Princess and Nico would have suffered.”

  “What do you mean suffered? If you returned the stone then the obsession would have ended.”

  “Nico’s fate was sealed the moment he was enamored and he would never have left Sapphira alone, but at least the curse would have ended with them. You wouldn’t be caught in this endless cycle of rebirth.”

  ”But you told me I could trap Nico’s soul in the stone.”

  “I had hoped it would work, yes. But now I realize what a mistake I made. Not only has this gone on and affected your future but the book has now fallen into his hands, and who knows what he learned. Who knows what he will try to change—history as we know it. You must prepare yourself and return the sapphire to the Temple of Indra. It won’t end his obsession for you, but it shall end the curse and he will no longer be able to bypass judgment.”

  “I don’t want to die. What if I kill him first?” I waited defiantly, half expecting him to be shocked, but to my surprise he nodded understandingly.

  “It's an expected feeling,” he said slowly, his low voice gentle and measured. “But it would be wrong. If he dies then you are free, but if it is by your hand then you blacken your own soul and that is a far worse fate, my dear, then death.”

  If only there was some other way. A jingle of keys and torchlight splashed the walls of the cell, surprising us both.

  I stepped outside the bars as if to shield Rochus but it was only Thomas, one of Prince Charles’s men, come to save Rochus at my request.

  Rochus moaned and drew his arms in closer as Thomas unlocked the door and pulled on the latch. The spell was wearing off. The air was full of the sound of him sobbing, and dimly I tried to hang on—I wanted to see them to safety—but my subconscious tugged me elsewhere. Back to the present I could only hope.

  I opened my eyes, feeling deflated, and stared at a fuzzy image of Leslie glowing. My vision steadied and I realized it was the candle that was illuminating her from behind.

  “You all right?” she asked just as a large crack of thunder sounded.

  I shot up.

  “Yes, but we need to go to India.”

  “India?”

  Stars danced before my eyes and I collapsed back onto the couch pillow and closed my eyes to ward off the throbbing in my head.

  The feel of a cool cloth on my head brought me alert again.

  “I need to put the jewel back in the temple to end the curse.”

  “You’re getting married in four months, Sophia. India is not in the cards right now.”

  I paused to consider this fact.

  “Did Rochus tell you that?”

  I nodded.

  “Why didn’t he tell you before?”

  “It’s not exactly a happy ending.”

  “What do you mean?” Leslie said, eying me warily.

  “It will only end the cycle, which means I won’t continue to reincarnate and Nico will no longer be able to bypass the afterlife; but it won’t stop his obsession for me.”

  “So basically Nick’s not going to stop until you're dead.”

  “I don’t think that killing me is his goal but it does seem to be how it always ends.”

  “We’ll poison him then. He can’t hurt you if he’s dead.”

  “Rochus says I risk my soul if I do that.”

  “You’re just going to accept that you’re a sitting duck?”

  “At least if I put the jewels back, I won’t be tied to him and I’ll be free to go to Heaven.”

  “I thought you were putting the jewels in that dagger for Cullen. Didn’t you already have it made?”

  “The dagger is ready but I haven’t dropped the jewels off to them yet. I’ll have to use something else. What else am I gonna do? Unless Nick kills himself, there’s no other way for me to break the curse.”

  “Maybe we could set a trap for him and get him thrown in prison for life.”

  “That’s not a bad idea, but I’d still need to return the jewels, unless he died in prison. Now grab your bag. We can brainstorm on the way.”

  “Sophia, we are not going to India right now.”

  “I know that. We’ll go after the wedding. Right now we’re going to your penthouse where there are security cameras and doormen. I no longer feel safe here. Oh and grab the book—we need to look up a prayer for protection.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  Did Someone Order Murder?

  I hardly slept that night. The sun was rising as I slipped from bed and tiptoed into the hotel bathroom to wash my face. I was as quiet as could be, assuming Leslie was asleep, but she sat up the instant I padded back across the room.

  “Sorry to disturb you,” I whispered. “Go back to sleep.”

  She hesitated for a second and then fell back on her pillow and almost immediately into a rhythmic snore. She might look small and dainty but she definitely didn’t sleep that way.

  I stole her robe off the top of her suitcase. It was a bit on the short side, especially considering the height I had on her, but I wrapped it around my waist anyway; it would have to do. I didn’t want to risk waking her again searching for the one the hotel offered. I’d have to grab some of my own clothes if I was going to continue to stay until Cullen returned.

  I closed the door and headed down the hall to the stairs. There was a reading ro
om off to the left that I was looking forward to relaxing in, but first I needed a coffee. A tray clattered. I slowed my steps, hearing movement in the lower level.

  The alarm sounded louder in my gut with each step.

  Swiftly reaching the kitchenette, I grabbed the empty wine bottle from the sink and held it firmly against my chest. From the corner of my eye, a dark shape moved against the light filtering in through the windows.

  How had Nick found me so soon?

  I stepped back, hiding behind the wall next to the counter, and held my breath. I couldn’t see him but it sounded like he was heading toward me. My grip tightened and I prayed that part of the robe was not visible. As he crossed the threshold into the kitchenette I swung, bringing the bottle down over the back of his head, watching in relief as he collapsed at my feet.

  He was face down on the kitchen floor. Turning on the light, I bent down and confirmed he was out cold then jerked open the drawers looking for something to tie him up with. Nothing. Damn it. This was a hotel, of course there was nothing useful. I pulled the belt off my robe and tied it as intricately around his wrists as I could. This should keep him immobile if he wakes up! I thought smugly.

  I struggled to roll him on to his side so I could verify it was Nick. A vague thought flashed through my mind as I recognized a cart by the door. Had he disguised himself as room service to break in? How clever.

  I gasped when I got my first good look at the man under me. He was taller than Nick by a couple of inches and much broader. Not to mention—was that the edge of a hotel name tag? I frowned as I took in his facial features. His hair was really the only thing similar to Nick’s.

  I was just about to move away when a voice from behind made me squeal.

  “What are you doing?” Leslie asked in shock.

  The cold floor smacked my bottom as I lost my balance and fell back. I grabbed my chest with my free hand. The other hand was still clutching the wine bottle like a lifeline. I turned enough so I could see Leslie standing at the bottom of the stairs.

  “Geez, Les! You scared the shit out of me!”

  Leslie looked me up and down and I imagined what she must be thinking. I was sitting on the floor with my robe hanging open, barely covered in a Rolling Stones t-shirt and black underwear, fullbacks thank goodness, clutching a wine bottle. Next to me was an unconscious male. My stomach twitched and my eyes flickered to the room service cart beside the door.

 

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