So he did overhear, Rock thought.
She glared at Placido to hide her terror.
“I see not even those of noble blood are above eavesdropping,” she quipped.
“Nothing is below me when it comes to my precious niece.”
Placido didn’t take the bait. Instead, he grabbed Rock’s wrist, as if to drive his point home.
“I want you to know this, Roxy: I treasure you like I treasure Lauretta.”
His large hand tightened painfully around her wrist, sending the message that he could easily break her in two if he had to.
“But I won’t allow even you to be the cause of Lauretta’s sorrow.”
“Uncle, y-you’re hurting me,” Rock moaned, but Placido didn’t let go.
“I can’t let you go free for Lauretta’s sake. Do we have an understanding?”
The golden eyes looking down the bridge of his nose at her flared with insanity.
Rock had seen eyes just like that once before.
Those were the same eyes she’d come face to face with when Guido Linus had lured her to his mansion and trapped her in its storage room, while he was under the statue’s influence.
Sensing the danger, Rock reluctantly played along.
“…I understand you perfectly.”
She uttered words she didn’t mean, but she had to if she wanted to survive.
If nothing else, Placido seemed satisfied. He released Rock’s wrist and then suddenly looked apologetic.
“I apologize for coming across so threatening. To me, both you and Lauretta are irreplaceable.”
“I’m sure…you feel that way.”
He probably wouldn’t listen even if she told him that he was being driven to insanity by those feelings.
Rock couldn’t help hoping there was some way to break the spell on him.
“Are you ready to go, Roxy?” Placido asked, urging her on with a fatherly smile, entirely unaware of her inner turmoil.
“Go where, Uncle?” she asked as she rubbed her aching wrist.
“To see the bishop,” he responded with the epitome of gentle calm. “He wants to meet you.”
Rock had thrown herself into the heart of her enemy’s camp, hoping for this chance. And yet, she found herself trembling with fear, now that she’d gotten what she wanted.
♚♚♚
ROCK was led by Placido through the ancient ruins.
Mazelike passages had been carved out of the limestone and branched out in different directions along the way, but Placido carried on his path without getting lost. Had he traveled this route so many times that he knew it like the back of his hand? Or did his werewolf senses guide him? Either way, being forced to follow him into this maze was enough to put Rock on high alert.
Eventually, a wooden double door appeared in front of them.
Placido pushed it open with both hands, and the heavy door groaned with the effort.
A sprawling open space with high ceilings appeared. It was the only section of the ruins left like a natural cave, with several dozen small holes in the limestone ceiling. Narrow shafts of light spilled in through those holes, pouring down on the surroundings like a shimmering veil of silk. Fragrant wood incense was burning here too, and billows of smoke rose toward the ceiling, as if riding on the light.
But Rock’s full attention was directed to something altogether different from that beautiful display.
Her eyes fixed on a large, old stone statue enshrined in the back of the cavernous room.
Many years—centuries, perhaps—must have passed since it was made. The chiseled shape and features carved into the limestone had rounded and become ambiguous over time.
But Rock recognized it. The statue looked just like the one she’d bought at Lady Trilian’s shop. Like the one Guido Linus had gotten his hands on and cursed himself with.
The entire back wall had been carved out in the shape of that damned werewolf statue.
“This is…”
Placido wordlessly passed by Rock as she stared in terror at the wall. Her eyes tracked him as he walked toward the two people waiting in front of the life-size statue.
It was Lauretta and someone Rock didn’t know. The stranger was shorter and altogether smaller than Lauretta and wore the same blue wool satin faille robe. Their face was hidden under a white-painted wooden mask, revealing only their eyes and lips.
“Oh, hello, darling. I see you brought Roxy with you.” Lauretta’s voice sounded awfully chipper for the eerie atmosphere weighing over the whole room. “I was just speaking to the bishop about her.”
She looked to the petite masked person when she said that.
“Go on, Roxy. Greet the bishop,” Placido urged her.
“A-All right.”
Urge me all they want, but who in their right mind would want to speak to such a blatantly suspicious person?
Rock was wary, but Lord and Lady Alexis were watching her. She reluctantly stepped forward.
“How do you do? I’m Roxy,” she introduced herself, and the bishop slowly nodded.
“Roxy Alexis. I have already heard all about you.”
The bishop’s voice sounded so young that it took Rock by surprise. It had such an innocent tone, and the pitch was just at the level where it was impossible to tell if it was a boy or girl speaking.
“A young girl guided to your new family by the werewolf’s power. I pray that your path in life is always warm and filled with success,” the bishop said, faltering along the way, as if they were reading off a script.
It seemed only Rock was alarmed by that oddity. Both Placido and Lauretta listened with tranquil, reverent expressions.
And the bishop even had the nerve to call her Roxy Alexis.
I don’t remember ever relying on the werewolf’s power to guide me to a new family I didn’t want.
Rock’s opinion on that matter remained uncompromised and defiant.
“Now then, Roxy, I will bestow the blessing upon you,” the tiny bishop said, pointing to the area in front of the statue. “Lay there.”
They had pointed to an altar that looked like a bed carved out of stone.
Rock thought it was an altar because werewolves had been carved into its base as well. It came up to her knees and was just long enough for a person to lie across it without issue.
Obviously, Rock had no intention of obeying.
“Why?” Rock asked, not hiding the wariness from her voice.
“Didn’t you hear me?” the bishop replied in dulcet tones. “It’s to bestow the blessing upon you.”
“What is this blessing?” Rock asked her aunt and uncle since she didn’t think she’d get anywhere with the elusive bishop.
Unfortunately, it seemed they were just as confused. Lauretta gave her husband a questioning look and Placido voiced his doubts.
“We didn’t hear anything about this either, Bishop.”
“And you wouldn’t have,” the bishop said with a guileless nod. “The moonlight delivered the oracle to this altar just last night. The oracle told me to offer the statue a drop of blood from the newcomer and to bestow the blessing upon them.”
The werewolf curse would be unleashed when the statue received blood.
Knowing that, Rock blanched.
Lord and Lady Alexis also gave each other baffled looks.
“Does that mean Roxy will gain the werewolf’s power…?”
“With all due respect, Bishop, our daughter is as delicate as a flower, as I’m sure you can see. I doubt she will be of use to the Brotherhood even if she receives the werewolf blessing.”
“Do not misunderstand the blessing,” the bishop replied with absolute composure in the face of Lauretta’s confused frown and Placido’s objection. “It is not for the Brotherhood’s benefit but for hers.”
“You mean to say it is for Roxy’s own good?”
“Indeed. According to the oracle, this girl’s path in life is fraught with thorns. There is much she must fight and resist going ahead. The pow
er of the werewolf is a blessing granted to overcome those obstacles.”
HOGWASH!
Rock resisted the urge to shout, but she couldn’t conceal her anger.
The bishop’s eyes gleamed through their mask as they took in the sight of her biting her lip.
“There’s nothing to fear, Roxy Alexis. You are about to obtain a wonderful power! It’s the power to crush every difficulty, obstacle, and enemy in your way, so you can fulfill your deepest wishes.”
Everything about the bishop’s voice, from its tone to its lilt, sounded terribly young. The way they spoke like a child clumsily reciting a poem from memory only ignited fear in Rock.
“Now…entrust yourself to the altar.”
“Hell no!”
Rock shouted out loud this time, but her feet were swept off the ground before she could make a run for it. Placido had picked her up and placed her on top of the altar.
“Uncle?!”
Placido looked down at his terrified niece with a calming smile.
“You heard the bishop. Not many people can receive this blessing. Gladly accept it.”
“What the hell are you saying?! I don’t want this shit!”
“Hell? Shit?” the bishop quietly repeated her unladylike word choice, as if they found fault with it. But they quickly shook their head and ordered Placido and Lauretta. “The ritual will be over quick. Both of you, please restrain your daughter.”
“Stop! Lemme go!”
Rock swung her arms and thrashed like her life depended on it.
But Placido pinned down her hands, preventing her from leaving the altar.
“This is a miraculous power! It is the only blessing granted to weaklings abandoned by the gods.”
The praying bishop pulled a slender dagger out of their robe pocket.
Rock became even more terrified when the needlelike tip gleamed in a shaft of sunlight.
“It’s all right. It’s just a little prick.”
The level of kindness in Placido’s soothing voice was downright eerie.
Rock wasn’t just afraid because she had witnessed the werewolf curse before.
She had a terrible feeling she wouldn’t be able to resist it right now.
She had an earnest wish buried deep within her—or rather, desires.
I want to go home. I want to reassure Father. I want to see Ebel.
I don’t want to be here!
I don’t want anything to do with something as terrifying as a curse. I wish I had the power to destroy every last thing connected to these statues that caused Ebel, Guido, and those around them to suffer so much.
If only I had the power to make it, so no one has to suffer again—
“Please! Don’t do this! I’m begging you!”
Rock’s plea devolved into screams.
She had a terrible, unshakeable feeling that if she were to receive the werewolf curse at this moment, she would lose herself forever.
She probably wouldn’t be satisfied until she’d destroyed everything and everyone in these ruins.
“I don’t need power! I absolutely don’t want it!”
Placido loosened his grip when he heard her strangled cry.
“Roxy…?”
He blinked in a daze, as if he’d just awoken from a dream.
Lauretta’s expression also changed, and she clung to the bishop, who had the dagger raised over Rock.
“Bishop, my daughter is terribly upset. Please let her go for today—”
“What has gotten into you two? There was an oracle. Oracles are absolute.” The suspicious bishop shook Lauretta off.
Lauretta rushed over and placed herself between the bishop and Rock.
“Please stop! My daughter is so terrified!”
“What happened to you? Why would such devout believers stand in my way…?”
The bishop tilted their neck, as if they were staring at an enigma they couldn’t understand.
Placido and Lauretta also seemed confused. They stiffened and exchanged perplexed looks
This was the time to escape.
With her arm restraints loosened, Rock sat up on the altar.
Just as she did, the double doors were thrown open with enough force to break them.
“Bishop!”
A man dressed in the cult’s blue robes barreled into the room.
“What’s the matter?” the bishop asked.
“We’ve got trouble!” the distraught man cried. “Werewolves! People who suddenly transformed into werewolves are rampaging in the sanctuary!”
“Werewolves?” the bishop repeated, emphasizing the plurality.
The man jerked his head up and down.
“Y-Yes. I saw at least two, both young men. They were praying in the sanctuary, when, without any warning, their clothes tore, and they became werewolves.”
“Impossible… Only those who’ve received the blessing can become werewolves,” the bishop muttered in their childish voice. “The people worshipping in the sanctuary haven’t received the blessing yet. Are you certain you didn’t see wrong?”
“I know what I saw!”
All the color had drained from the man’s face. His knees were shaking so hard they were smacking together—a sure sign he’d seen something terrifying.
“They’ve lost their minds! Please do something!” he begged for assistance from the bishop, as if the child were his one and only hope not to be eaten.
But his nightmare was Rock’s salvation.
Two young male werewolves the Brotherhood knows nothing about… They might just be…
Rock couldn’t sit still when she thought of that possibility.
She slid off the altar and ran at full speed for the doors, shoving the bishop and man out of her way as she went.
“Outta my way!”
Rock might not have been the strongest person out there, but the trembling man and child bishop posed no obstacle to her. They easily tumbled to the ground, and Rock took that opening to bolt from the cavernous room.
“Roxy!” Placido called after her a moment later as he regained his senses.
“Don’t go, Roxy! It’s dangerous! Come back!”
Rock heard Lauretta’s panicked plea as well, but she didn’t look back. She yanked up her dress so the hem wouldn’t get in the way and ran for her life in the direction of all the noise.
She didn’t know which way to go. But if she relied on the screams and commotion, she was sure to run into them.
I knew he’d come. I trusted he would absolutely rescue me. I’ve cried. I’ve suffered. Yet, I was able to endure it all and wait because I knew. And just as I’d hoped, he—they have come for me.
Rock was sure of it even before she saw him with her own eyes.
She was about to see Ebel again.
As she raced through the narrow corridors, she gradually started to make out more of the noises. Multiple screams and the sounds of people running around like crazy mixed into the louder bangs and crashes of stuff being destroyed. It sounded like beasts were going on a wild rampage.
Rock relied on those sounds to navigate her way through the mazelike corridors of the ancient ruins.
When she finally managed to return to what she assumed was the living quarters, Krister flashed to the front of her thoughts.
He should’ve been somewhere behind one of the many doors.
If she was going to run for it, then she should take him with her, but he’d only one good leg now. She didn’t have the strength or stamina to escape while supporting an adult man.
But rescuing him shouldn’t be hard if she could meet up with Ebel and the others. She had nothing to lose by confirming his whereabouts first.
With that in mind, Rock started searching the familiar living quarters.
Relying on her memory, she threw open the wooden doors and cloth partitions.
Every single room was empty—only the beds and simple furniture remained. It seemed like the cultists cohabited here, but maybe the residents had fled i
n all the commotion. Chairs were knocked over in some of the rooms, and half-eaten bread and opened books were left atop the tables.
The identical rooms continued on endlessly, with Krister’s workshop nowhere in sight.
I hope he got out all right, Rock thought as she left the nth room she’d checked.
Suddenly, someone clad in a blue robe appeared in the corridor she thought was empty.
It was a tall man. He had the hood low over his face, obscuring it from view, but he was quickly coming her way.
Rock freaked out for a moment, her back pressed up against the door, keeping her out of sight.
She considered running for it, but the robed man didn’t seem to be after Rock. He walked by as if he couldn’t care less about her, so Rock tried to run past him like she was fleeing the commotion.
“…!”
Then the man’s arm shot out and caught Rock around the waist.
Rock jumped back and cautiously looked up, just as the man used his other hand to pull down his hood.
“Don’t run away and spoil our touching reunion.”
The devious grin that appeared made Rock’s voice crack.
“…Father!”
There was her father’s face that was so comforting she could cry.
He had his chestnut-colored tresses tied back and his beautiful skin free of makeup. His blue eyes gazed down at his daughter lovingly.
Driven by joy and relief, Rock flung herself at him, and Phoebe caught his daughter, wrapping her up in his strong arms.
“Sorry I took so long, Roxy.”
“Don’t be. I’m glad you came,” she said, rubbing her face into her father’s muscled chest. It felt weird to press her cheek against the robe’s strange fabric rather than her father’s usual dresses, but it was still reassuring nevertheless.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t do anything when it happened. You were kidnapped right before my eyes…”
“It’s all good, as long as you’re safe, Father. And I’m grateful you came for me.” After telling him the honest truth, Rock tugged on the robe he was wearing. “But where’d this come from? Why are you wearing it?”
Phoebe was wearing the blue wool satin faille robe over his favorite leather armor. She could see his sword pommel poking out through the robe opening, telling her he’d come armed for a fight.
The Werewolf Count and the Trickster Tailor, Volume 2 Page 17