Snow Heart

by Knight, Arvalee

  “We’re going outside,” Alric ordered, seemingly bored.

  “It’s cold outside,” Wilhelm informed.

  The youth glowered before stating, “Do I appear improvident to you, Wilhelm? I know quite well what the temperature is like outside; I was sitting out there just a second ago. Or perhaps you are the one too idiotic to realize.”

  There appeared to be no other reason for argument or debate. Alric’s mind was made up and once he decided something then it was all too illegal to disagree. Wilhelm certainly wasn’t going to risk his life for Alric.

  Wilhelm led the young Macter out onto the porch and around to the front of the house. The field and gardens reached for miles on the Macter estate. Small streams ran through the area and there was even a lake on the farthest side—a lake Alric had hardly been able to go to.

  The main house linked nicely to the smaller family houses by mere sidewalks. There were only three gates in the wall that surrounded the place: a gate to the city, a gate to the mountains and another gate that led out to the country side towards another city.

  Very few members of the family lived away from Alric. There were those who lived in Meissen in small cramped apartments, barely getting by. Those who did not live among the land did not know of the curse. Very few Macter were granted that privilege to live a normal life. Once they knew the family secret they were hardly given the option of privacy. Alric kept a close eye on every member of his dwindling family.

  “How is Rusuto doing?” Alric inquired while heading towards the bridge—a small structure arching over a thin rivulet of nearly frozen water.

  Wilhelm held his hands professionally locked behind his back. “Rusuto is going out to the lake this week. He decided on leaving Dan and Angel behind when he goes.”

  “Is that so?” The sickly youth draped his arms over the edge of the rail. “Those pathetic orphans.”

  Wilhelm vaguely recalled the events that left the two teens fending for themselves. Dan’s mother and father were viciously murdered in the comfort of their apartment. Angel had lived with her aunt, abandoned by the rest of her family. It was when her aunt was taken to illness—left brain-dead—that Angel had no home to return to.

  Both children were of Macter decent.

  Rusuto felt compelled to take Dan and Angel, children then, when he found them lost in the vast forest behind his home. They had raided his kitchen and when he returned, Rusuto found them frightened and alone. Dan was just seven and Angel a simple five.

  Wilhelm always considered Rusuto soft-hearted and far too generous. He was taught to keep away from Rusuto by Alric through pain staking conditioning.

  Alric scraped a nail along the wood of the bridge. “What about Danzig?” the youth asked with repugnance.

  “Danzig?” Wilhelm tried to recall the conversation he had with the elder man—a man burdened with senile consistency and deteriorating bones. “He said he was coming to see you as soon as he could.”

  Alric gave a half smile. “How does he look anyway?”

  “His condition is getting worse,” Wilhelm answered. “Completely bed ridden.”

  “Good,” Alric whispered with secret enjoyment. “He deserves every bit of it.”

  The sound of joyful laughter made Alric’s stomach twist with disgust. He could not believe the nerve of the person who dared to laugh on Macter land. If anything, they should be crying out in agony. No one had to the right to laugh.

  Wilhelm followed at Alric’s heels. The laughter became distinguished and recognizable to Wilhelm even though he had only heard it once in his entire life. The girl, who Wilhelm knew not her name, sat on top of a small mound in the midst of the field. Her hair seemed to shine like honey in the sunlight—even on this cloudy winter day.

  “Stop,” the girl laughed as the Labrador nudged her with his nose. “You’re supposed to be helping me write my letter.”

  Alric stopped his advance towards her to merely observe.

  Wilhelm noted Alric’s plotting expression.

  “Okay,” the girl beamed. “Dear Grandma and Grandpa, things here are great.”

  The black lab barked in agreement.

  “Are you sure?” asked she. “It sounds a little rehearsed.”

  Alric’s plotting was to an end. His thoughts were ready and organized to the fine, microscopic point that no sword or needle could ever reach. His thin fragile body held determination while heading up the mound towards the girl he hated from the beginning.

  She was bemused only for a second as the dog howled into the air. It whined pulling back its thin floppy ears. Her feet never delayed to pull her off the ground and face Alric head on.

  “What are you doing out here?” Alric said in his usual dark tone.

  Nieves shifted through attitudes quickly. Being bossed around was not something she took lightly. Strangely enough, Nieves bit back her anger and said, “I’m writing a letter to my grandparents.” There was no reason for her to hate the Head Macter. At least not yet, anyway. Hopefully he wasn’t as cruel as Boris, Nieves thought naively.

  “You will appear at my home in one hour,” Alric firmly ordered—no emotion crossing his face. “The servants will prepare drinks.”

  Without further words Alric set off to the awaiting Wilhelm at the bottom of the hill. The doctor looked mildly surprised that the youth had invited her—this cheerful young woman—over for tea. There must be some hidden plot to everything.

  This was Alric not some generous monk.

  “What will you do?” asked Wilhelm after being sure their conversation would not be heard by the girl.

  Alric gave a smile he reserved for the pleasure of torturing another. “I’ll give her a little taste of nightshade with that cup of tea. Or perhaps one of my poisons I haven’t used recently.”

  “Nightshade,” Wilhelm stated the word just to feel it on his tongue. “You’re going to poison her?”

  “What else did you expect?”

  The fumbling doctor did not know how to respond.

  Alric laughed—a sound that hardly left his lips. “You actually thought I’d invite her for tea? You amuse me, Wilhelm. Your absurd hope to find goodness in me is quite a waste of time.”

  Still, nonetheless, Wilhelm would never stop hoping.

  †

  The table was set with Alric’s finest dishes, cup and silverware. He even ordered the servants to use his finest table cloth when moving the dining table into his room. He slid into his most comfortable of robes—a white cotton one nicely made for winter—and waited for his latest victim. His heart raced at thinking how she might look after poison entered her veins.

  Would she scream after the discovery? Or maybe she’d remain calm about it.

  “Alric, sir,” someone on the other side of the shoji door muttered before sliding it open. “Your guest has arrived.”

  The youth grinded his teeth with impatience. “Then why are you in here telling me this. Send her in.” He cursed, “Fool” under his breath. “Useless servants.”

  “Uh…” the servant seemed rather confused. He turned to the hallway then called out, “Come here, girl. Come here.” He clapped his hands together, beckoning whatever it was forward.

  Alric’s expression went hard as the whimpering black dog padded into the room. Its ears were drawn back in subordination but Alric was not moved. In fact, this merely made Alric angry at the feeling of being inferior.

  Alric didn’t say a word—not even as the mutt before him dropped the letter clenched between its teeth. He eyed the letter then the whimpering creature.

  “Pathetic,” he cursed and the dog went racing for the garden door. Jumping right through the paper and wooden crosshatched frame—it never looked back or slowed down.

  Alric’s hatred turned to the nearest person. “Get out! Get to Boris’s house and bring whoever comes home first. I want all of them! I want her here!”

  The servant shook with fear, jolting for the exit.

  Alric snatched up the letter an
d eyed the words for quite some time.

  “Dear Head Macter,” it read, “NO. Sincerely, Nieves.”

  For some odd reason, Alric found himself smiling at her boldness.

  CHAPTER 3

  Nieves found herself waking up under a blanket of stars. In the city it was nearly impossible to even see a single one but here, in this field, the whole sky was twinkling with them. She would have smiled and gazed if reality hadn’t slapped her across the face. It was nighttime and Boris would surely beat her till bleeding for it. She had to get home soon, hopefully before he got home from work—whatever it was he did as a lawyer.

  She let out a sigh before sitting up.

  The black lab next to her lifted its head and yawned.

  Nieves softly said, “You’re still here? Shouldn’t you be with your master?”

  Nonetheless, Nieves scratched him on the head, a little while longer before heading home to face the hot-headed Boris. She would like to gauge his eyes out but that would be too gruesome of a task for her. In fact, despite her bold character, Nieves was rather reserved and quiet. She didn’t like attention and preferred to spend her time alone—maybe with a black Labrador as company.

  All the lights in the house were off, Nieves noted as she headed down the path completely unaware of any form of danger. To her, danger was simply a word in the dictionary. She had lived her life side-by-side with agony that it had become a background noise.

  The Labrador gave a soft whine.

  “What is it?” asked Nieves with a small hint of amusement.

  He stopped at the bottom step and lay there, whining and pleading.

  Nieves overlooked its fearful attitude and opened the front door. There was no Boris inside—or his wife. The place seemed rather calm as she flicked on the entryway lights. Even as Nieves called out, “Anyone home,” the house seemed empty.

  “Nieves,” called out Boris’s wife.

  Nieves rolled her eyes with exasperation. “Yes?” Who else would it be, she thought to herself.

  Boris’s wife came from around the corner in a hurry. “What did you do?” she asked gravely while holding a dish towel in hand.

  Nieves gave her a confused look but it was swept away in an instant by pure panic.

  A thin man, rather lanky, stepped out from behind Boris’s wife. At the tip of his nose rested a thin frame of glasses—his green eyes were starring out at Nieves. His tanned skin went rather well with his light blonde hair.

  He asked, “Nieves?”

  “Yes,” replied Nieves.

  “You need to come with me.”

  The girl took a step backwards out of the house and onto the porch. She hadn’t even been able to blink when the man leapt forward and snatched hold of her thin arm. He was so fast she had hardly seen him move.

  He could have snapped Nieves’s arm like a toothpick with how large his hands were. “Alric is in need of your presence.” This character seemed to have no expression—like Botox, Nieves considered mildly.

  But her humor was quickly consumed with fear.

  “Alric?” blurted Nieves. “Why the hell should I see him?”

  The man made no reply. He tossed the fragile young lady over his shoulder and carried her into the darkness of the night. The companion that had followed her home had vanished. And as Nieves called out for Boris’s wife’s help she wished the Labrador had stayed to rescue her.

  †

  “Let me go,” Nieves screamed, pounding her fists against the man carrying her.

  His strength never faltered and his expression never changed—not once. He carried her all the way to Alric’s house, the main house as it was called, and threw her onto the floor of Alric’s room. Alric, standing over Boris’s quivering body, looked at Nieves emotionlessly—not at all bothered.

  “You wretch,” Boris yelled at Nieves—his fear now turned to anger.

  Nieves sat up and combed the falling strands out of her face casually.

  Boris spat, “Bitch! You’ll get what’s coming to you when Alric’s done.”

  Nieves huffed very softly. “I doubt he can hurt me worse than you already have.”

  A growl slipped through Boris’s lips as he leapt like an animal towards Nieves. He was ready to wrap his hands around her neck when Alric lifted his hand—he simply lifted it—and Boris was on the floor howling in pain. His body writhed until his back arched over the floor with the agony.

  Nieves gasped while leaning away from the screams.

  Alric threw his hand aside and Boris went flying through the open shoji door to the rock garden. His body fell like a rag doll into the sand—tumbling and sliding.

  Boris laid there for a moment, panting with the release of pain. “Alric,” he muttered the name like a prayer. “Forgive me of my sin.”

  Alric lowered his hand and the paper door slid closed. The thin Head Macter disappeared from sight as if the shadows had consumed him in a single bite. In fact, the entire room seemed swallowed by shadows.

  It felt like hours had past between Nieves and Alric. For all she knew, daybreak could be coming at anytime now.

  Finally Alric said, “You told me ‘no’.”

  Nieves nodded her head.

  “Not a soul has denied my offerings,” he clarified.

  “Really?” Nieves beamed. “I’m the first?”

  Alric wasn’t at all enjoying her happiness. “You are obviously too dimwitted to realize how powerful I am. I have this entire establishment kneeling at my feet. Yet, you—you and your smiles and laughter—how dare you enter my lands and think you can be happy here?”

  Nieves shrugged a shoulder—careless of what he said. “I’ll be leaving in a few months anyway.”

  “That is not the point!” Alric growled and the room went icy cold.

  Nieves bit back her words of hatred—she was too kind hearted to yell at him though she had every right. For some odd reason, Nieves felt sorry for the arrogant and heartless Alric.

  The Head Macter lowered his head—a thick darkness looming over his eyes. “I will make you endure our torture,” he whispered. “It is only fair.”

  Nieves got to her feet. “No. I won’t let you hurt me.”

  The young master wasn’t used to being told ‘no’. His anger accumulated to the brink of overflowing from the sides of the cup. “Boris’s torture is nothing compared to mine. You know nothing of suffering. I have lived with this curse my entire life.”

  Nieves was just about to say something when a black shape leapt through the hole in the rock garden’s door—a hole Nieves hadn’t noticed until now. It looked as if something had leapt through it previously.

  A low growl—animalistic in every way—grumbled from the shadow’s throat.

  Alric didn’t even bother turning his head to the creature. He simply narrowed his eyes with irritation and stood there, arms hanging at his side and patience running thin.

  The shadow barked—a sound familiar to Nieves that drove away her fear.

  “Sneeuwbal!” Nieves didn’t wait even for a quick-breath’s moment. She ran right to the shadowy black dog and hugged him lovingly.

  Alric raised an eyebrow. “Sneeuwbal? His coat is ebony.”

  Why would she name a black dog Snowball?

  Nieves giggled a little then said, “That’s the only name he listens to.”

  Sneeuwbal barked a deep sound then nudged Nieves to the door—its silent words quite understood. Nieves escaped through the paper door out into the rock garden. She crossed the sand in a quickening stride, not pausing for a second—not even to look at the lifeless Boris. She forced her way through the thorn bushes and coarse tan grasses. She ran as quickly as her legs would carry her—all the way to the darkness of the forest where she never stopped to look behind her.

  Sneeuwbal had given her the chance to escape.

  The soft padding sounds behind her stomped against the dead leaves from the season of autumn. Its breathing was heavy as it ran to catch up with Nieves—panting and lunging forwa
rd. Sneeuwbal was at her heels giving raspy huffs of air in its forceful running.

  Nieves felt like her legs might snap under the pressure of running—leaping over the fallen logs and ducking beneath the low branches.

  Sneeuwbal let out a bark of encouragement. “Keep going,” he seemed to yell.

  †

  Rusuto let out a long over-exaggerated sigh.

  “Shut up,” Dan muttered, his arms folded across his chest in a way to appear bad-assed. Dan was all about appearing much stronger than he was—it was the way he gained his confidence after all the suffering he’d been through. Mostly, he did it for Angel—the most important person in his life.

  “I didn’t say anything,” Rusuto said with a laugh.

  Dan huffed arrogantly. “The only thing you ever do is complain.”

  “I do not.” Rusuto straightened his white dress shirt and faded blue jeans. He fixed the cufflinks prestigiously with a smile.

  Angel began giggling softly—she was taking the sheets off of the line after letting them dry in the warm sun. Leaving them out at night would only cause them to gain water from the midnight dew.

  “Why are you laughing?” asked Rusuto jokingly.

  “Well,” Angel replied, folding the sheet in her hands and placing it into the basket. “I’d like it if we could go with you to the lake this weekend.”

  Dan groaned. “Great. Now you’ve got Angel complaining.”