by Cory Barclay
“My lords and ladies, thank you all for coming today,” Malachite began, his hands still raised. “It is my pleasure to welcome you to my estate, for the celebration of the union between the Lees and Reynoldses.” The Overseer’s raised hand motioned up toward the study room.
All the faces in the ballroom turned to the window Annabel stared out from. She would have blushed furiously if she’d been able to. Instead, she felt dizzy from the attention shifting to her so abruptly. She instinctively tried to move out of the window’s line of sight. Tiberius grabbed her hard by the waist—his hands still hidden from view—and made her stay. Annabel felt humiliated as the congregation below began to politely clap.
“Now, as promised,” Malachite continued, drawing attention back to himself, “I have organized a special event for this special occasion. While the bride and groom descend the stairs and join us on the floor, please welcome my very special guest. She has come from Terrus, where she has made a worldwide name for herself. Ladies and lords, please welcome . . . Nersi Magdalin!”
Malachite threw his arms out to the other end of the ballroom, where a giant, red curtain fell away, revealing a stage. A few people gasped delightedly, while others shouted with glee.
A spotlight shined on the center of the stage, the disturbed dust motes dancing in the empty space. A moment later, amidst the pin-drop quietness, high heels clanked on the wooden floor.
Nersi Magdalin appeared in the spotlight, dressed in a red-and-gold skirt that barely reached her knees. She curtsied to the crowd, whipping her golden hair around her shoulders, then smiled at the crowd. The men in the audience groaned and the women sighed dreamily.
Nersi waved her hands in the direction of the musicians. They started playing without delay, the first, bright notes of a violin ringing out.
Tiberius said, “Let’s go,” and grabbed his wife by the shoulder.
As the violinist played a beautiful melody, other instruments joined in, creating a soulful tune. Nersi rocked back and forth to the rhythm of the slow percussion. Then she opened her mouth and started singing.
Tiberius guided Annabel out of the study and they walked down a hallway, toward a set of stairs. The entire time they walked, Tiberius had his hand gripped on Annabel’s shoulder. When they reached the stairs and the sight of the onlookers below, Tiberius released his hand from her and put on his finest smile.
Annabel, too, tried to smile, but she was much less practiced in the deceptive art of feigning enjoyment.
They made their way down the stairs as the musicians played a pretty song and Nersi Magdalin softly sang to the crowd. It was a magical moment, for everyone but Annabel. She still felt dizzy and out of place. The court of Overseer Malachite and the Brethren Council was no place for her. She couldn’t fake merriment.
When the couple reached the bottom of the stairs, kisses, embraces, handshakes, and smiles greeted them. Annabel tried to smile back at the people she was introduced to, but she hardly knew a soul.
The approaching crowd naturally separated Annabel and Tiberius. Annabel felt a wave of relief wash over her. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Tiberius patting some lord or important person on the back. She made sure to keep going the way the crowd was pushing her, which was away from Tiberius.
Before long, she found herself in front of the stage, staring up admiringly at Nersi Magdalin. The siren was belting out a smooth song that sounded like jazz fusion. Annabel was sure the lords and ladies of Mythicus had never heard anything like it before.
Nersi’s eyes met her own. The siren’s pouty red lips curved upward. She winked at Annabel, showing her recognition, and Annabel felt her heart fill. For the first time in a long time, she felt alive again. She didn’t feel trapped—Nersi’s music freed her from her unfortunate confines of life.
All she wanted to do was get up on that stage and sing along with Lady Magdalin.
To her amazement, Nersi must have sensed it. The siren bent her knees and reached out, twiddling her red-gloved fingers at Annabel.
Annabel’s mouth fell open and she smiled wide. She walked toward the stage like a woman possessed, unable to feel anything else in the room other than that primordial urge to take Nersi’s hand.
Then the large door of the ballroom flew open with a loud thump, jarring Annabel from her spiritual reverie.
A few lords and ladies looked toward the door. Even the musicians missed a beat in their music.
Nersi’s hand closed, the moment lost, and she went back to singing.
Annabel lamented and her heart sank. She angrily turned around to see what commotion had ruined her big moment.
Her mother and father stood defiantly in the doorway, a pull-cart of some kind behind them. A white cloth was draped over the pull-cart, covering some bulbous shape.
Annabel’s eyes bulged as she realized what must’ve been under the cloth.
Constantin spoke loudly and clearly, above the din of music, Nersi’s voice, and the congregation of lords and ladies.
“Overseer Malachite, I have arrived on this, my family’s Naming Day, to present to you utter proof of that man’s abhorrent and reprehensible actions!” The vampire pointed a finger down the length of the ballroom and people moved out of the way so it didn’t land on them.
At the end of the room, the point landed on Jareth Reynolds, who had been drinking a mug of ale. He sputtered and nearly coughed out his ale.
“What nonsense is this, Constantin?” Jareth bellowed, his eyes flashing a fierce orange for an instant. “You would do this now? When my son is being celebrated?”
Constantin grabbed the edge of the white cloth beside him and yanked as hard and dramatically as he could.
Yelps and cries exploded from the room as eyes fell on the pull-cart.
Charles Lee’s dead, rotting, grotesque, naked body was splayed on the cart as if he was ready to be autopsied.
One lady in the crowd fainted and thudded to the floor. Another gagged and had to flee the ballroom, squeezing past Constantin and his stern wife.
“You bastard!” Overseer Malachite cried, lunging to his feet and thrusting a finger in Constantin’s direction. “You would dare ruin my celebration for your own satisfaction?”
“Your celebration, Overseer? My satisfaction?” Constantin shouted. “Lord Onyx and his damnable son killed my boy! There must be retribution! Where is that little shit?” Constantin’s eyes searched the room for Tiberius and found him.
Instinctively, Tiberius scanned the room, trying to find Annabel. It seemed he wanted to hold her hostage or save himself somehow, and he swore he’d just seen her next to the stage.
But, strangely enough, she was nowhere to be seen . . .
ANNABEL RACED UP THE stairs, her heart pounding. She hadn’t felt this alive in months. She ran with the hems of her dress hiked up, so as not to trip, and reached the top of the stairs. She knew the general layout of the Overseer’s castle because she’d been here before, in a dream.
She looked left and right, then ran down a hallway. She came to a large room, where a black cat jumped out of the shadows and hissed at her. She recognized the cat’s white belly and grimaced, clenching her jaw.
She kicked out and launched Misty into the shadows with a wail.
Annabel ran across the room and came to another hallway and another fork in the road. She kept going straight, running along the walkway as sunlight poured in from the windows.
She ran around the labyrinthine halls until she recognized a room ahead. She could tell the noise from the ballroom below was growing in volume.
She peeked out from the hallway and saw two blackguards standing stoically in front of a large door. A set of gold keys dangled from one of the guard’s belt.
She took a deep breath and jumped out from the hallway, startling both the guards. They bent their knees and lowered their spears in a fighting stance.
They must have recognized her face, because the guards eyed each other anxiously.
“Sirs!”
Annabel cried out desperately, before they could get any ideas.
“Aren’t you the bride everyone’s celebrating downstairs?” one of the guards asked, his voice muffled from his black mask.
Annabel nodded. She jabbed her thumb over her shoulder, back down the hall. “You must hurry, sirs! There’s a commotion downstairs and I don’t know what’s going to happen!”
“What commotion?” the guard asked. From this distance, the cries from the ballroom were muted.
“We’ve been ordered to stand our ground outside this room, madam . . .”
“Annabel,” she said. “But you can call me Bel.”
“Well, Madam Bel, then you know—”
“Of course I do, man! But the Overseer himself directed me to fetch you. It seems he needs all the help he can get down there.”
The guards both looked uneasy and apprehensive. One of them made a move for the hallway, but the other stopped him.
“We can’t . . .”
“You won’t hear the end of it if you aren’t down there. I promise you, it’s madness!”
“What’s going on?”
“There’s no time to explain!” Annabel actually jumped up and down, excitedly trying to rile up the guards.
It worked.
After glancing at his comrade, one of the guards shrugged and said, “It’s worth a peek, right?”
“Shit, if it means our jobs otherwise . . .”
“Hurry, there’s no time!” Annabel said.
“Will you watch this door?” one of the guards asked stupidly.
“What’s behind it?” Annabel asked, trying to act equally as stupid.
The guard shrugged. “We’ve just been stationed here. That isn’t our—”
“Yes, yes” Annabel said, flapping her hand at them irritably. “I’ll watch it.”
The guards moved toward the hallway, but Annabel was still blocking their path. She had deliberately set herself in front of the guard with the keys hanging from his belt. As he ran toward her, almost bowling her over, she scooted aside at the last moment and deftly dragged her hand across his belt . . .
The guard felt the pull and slowed down. Annabel crashed into him, trying to divert attention from her failed thievery.
The guard grabbed her shoulders to steady her. As he did, Annabel managed to unclasp the chain from the guard’s belt.
“You’re okay, madam?” the guard asked.
“Yes, I’m fine,” she said, pointing with her other hand down the hall.
The two guards sped down the hall.
Annabel took a deep breath and looked down at her shaking hands. The keys rattled and she held them to her chest, closing her eyes to get her nerves under control.
She went to the door, put the key in the hole, and heard a click as she turned it. She opened the door and stepped into the room, closing the door behind her.
“Who are you?” a voice from the shadows asked.
“Annabel Lee. You should recognize me from the wedding, Geddon. You were there.”
Geddon meandered out from the shadowy crook of the room, squinting at Annabel. “Of course I do,” he said. “You’re Steve’s girl.”
“Yes. I’m Steve’s girl.”
“What are you doing here, dear?” another voice asked, this one from the other side of the small room. Selestria appeared with her arms wrapped around her chest, as if she was freezing to death.
It was chilly in the room.
“I’ve come here to rescue you,” Annabel said. “Obviously.”
“Why?” Geddon asked. “What’s the play?”
Selestria rolled her eyes. “Not everyone has an ulterior motive, Ged—”
“No, he’s right,” Annabel interjected. “I can get you out of this room, but from there you must find your own way out of the castle. I can’t be seen guiding fugitives.”
Selestria asked, “Why are you helping us?”
“Because the Vagrant Kinship is in need of your help,” she said, without feeling bad at her little lie.
Geddon smiled at the news, probably for the first time since his imprisonment. “I knew they’d come for us!” he shouted, punching his fist into his open palm. “I told you, Sela!”
“Where are we to rendezvous, girl?” Selestria asked, still businesslike in her demeanor.
“At my parent’s house, my lady,” Annabel said.
“Please,” Selestria said with a soft smile. “I’m the one who should be calling you ‘my lady.’ I’m—”
“There’s no time for these pleasantries!” Geddon snapped.
“He’s right again, ma’am. Unfortunately. You must be away this instant. I’ve distracted the guards, but I don’t know for how long. My parents have created a diversion on the ground level. Whatever you do, don’t go downstairs!”
Annabel paused, out of breath. She rolled her shoulders up and down, then continued. “Understand?”
“Yes,” they both said in unison.
“How can we repay you?” Selestria asked.
“By appearing at the Lee estate. Can you do that?”
They both nodded.
“I’ll make sure to lead him there,” Selestria said.
Geddon frowned. “I know the way, woman. Steve told—”
“Yes, but I’ll make sure you actually arrive there,” Selestria quipped.
Geddon was about to open his mouth to retort, but Annabel held a hand out. Geddon and Selestria sounded like a married couple. And if this was what married sounded like, she wanted no part in it. She couldn’t wait to be free from Tiberius, if it ever came to pass.
Even though she couldn’t trust Geddon, Selestria seemed a bit more reliable. She stood out of the way and opened the door.
“After you,” Annabel said, waving them on.
The prisoners left the room and were officially fugitives. Once outside, they looked left and right, then to Annabel.
“Go that way,” she said, pointing to the left, down a dark, dimly lit hallway. “When you get to a window, I’d recommend breaking it and escaping that way. Or not. I just know there aren’t any exits on the second level of a castle. I think.”
Geddon put a finger to his temple and smiled. “Smart lass.”
“Good luck,” Annabel said. “And I’ll see you soon. You should be greeted at my house by a small, creepy looking servant named Lig. Don’t worry, he’s harmless.”
“Very well,” Geddon said.
Before they parted ways, Selestria put a soothing hand on Annabel’s arm. “Thank you, Annabel. Steve picked a good one.”
“You’re damn right he did,” Annabel replied, flashing the nymph a smile.
With that, Geddon and Selestria ran left. Annabel ran right, but not before she locked the door and threw the keys down a hallway, into darkness. She headed back toward the commotion downstairs, hoping her parents were still alive when she saw them again.
Well, they’ve never really been alive, have they?
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
Annabel raced to the end of the hallway and retraced her steps back toward the ballroom. She ran nimbly—trying to make her feet fall as lightly as possible—but fast. She had one more thing to do while the diversion downstairs played out, but she didn’t know if she still had time. If she didn’t, she’d have to return for her second task later.
Her heart ached at the idea of abandoning her plan.
As she neared the ballroom, she could hear the raucous voices growing louder.
Will anyone recognize I’ve been missing?
What if those blackguards return to their post and realize Geddon and Selestria are gone? They’ll know who helped them flee . . . they can’t be that inept.
As her heart hammered in her chest, she reached the staircase. She took a deep breath and poked her head out from the hallway, gazing downstairs toward the ballroom. From her vantage point, she could only see the first room of the house and the opening of the ballroom. The rest of the ballroom was hidden from view by the stair’s railing.
Constantin stood near the front of the room, Charles’ body splayed on the roll-cart behind him. Annabel couldn’t see her mother.
Constantin raised his hands, trying to quiet the crowd. For once, he looked a bit out of control. His explosive entrance had engrossed him. Annabel felt bad—she wanted to do something to help her father, but that wasn’t part of the plan. She had her own scheme: something that her father and mother didn’t even know about.
As if sensing her presence, Constantin twisted his head to glance up the stairs. He locked eyes with Annabel for a split second. Annabel gave him an almost imperceptible nod, telling him the deed was done. He nodded back, but then had a confused look on his face when he realized Annabel was not coming down the stairs.
Annabel’s eyes went wide, partly in fear, partly in anticipation. She turned around and disappeared back into the hallway.
Constantin almost opened his mouth to call her name, but he would be giving away his daughter’s position. So far, no one had noticed she was missing. But it was only a matter of time . . . so where was she going?
“That’s enough, everyone!” a voice called from the middle of the ballroom. It was a loud, booming voice, and everyone turned toward the sound.
Overseer Malachite raised his hands and said, “Tensions are flaring. I understand that. But today is a special day, is it not? Can we not celebrate this occasion before we tear each other’s throats out?”
Constantin replied. “The day in question is celebrating my family’s Naming Day, Overseer. How can we celebrate something that should not even be taking place?” He wanted to mention it was also celebrating Annabel’s marriage, but that would call attention to her whereabouts. He wanted to buy her a little more time to do whatever it was she was doing. He also didn’t want to mention that the Naming Day was only taking place because of the marriage.
But someone wasn’t going to let that be forgotten.
“As it stands, Lord Constantin, your daughter’s marriage is still in effect,” Overseer Malachite said. “You are still a member of the Brethren Council because of that, as is your wife.”