by Lindsay Mead
“Because I met the woman who created the curse.” He raised his chin. “And she mentioned Fenrir’s name.”
“What? A woman?” This was not the reply Belle had expected. “I think you need to start from the beginning.”
“Yes, mademoiselle.” Aleksander smiled and it reached up to his beautiful, blue eyes. “The moment that curse swept through my kingdom, my people became great wolves, and my castle became a prison to everyone within.”
“The whole castle? I thought only you were imprisoned?” Belle relaxed her arms, moving them to rest in front of her.
“My prison is different.” He paused, thinking, then tried to explain further. “If anyone from within the castle grounds tries to leave, they are immediately cursed like the others. We lost several good men in learning this.”
Finally, a piece of the puzzle fell into place. Now Belle knew why there was a castle full of able people, but why none ever came for help. She also realized then that there would be no way to send word to her father. The only person that could leave this castle was, in fact, her. “Why was I not changed by the curse when I broached your lands?”
“Perhaps because you were not touched by it originally?” He held up defeated hands. “To be frank, mademoiselle, I do not have an answer for that.”
“What about why the castle was unaffected?”
He smiled at Belle again, causing her body to feel strangely light.
“That I do know. For two days we didn’t have answers. With telescopes we could see that the closest village and shipyard had been lost, but there was no reason for any of it. No sign of any human that had walked away untouched.” His gaze drifted off and Belle knew he was remembering. “Then she came. She was not human—she looked human, but there was no question that she was something else. This woman called herself a norn.”
“Norn?” The foreign word felt odd on her tongue.
“They are otherworldly beings sent by some universal power to change fate.” Aleksander turned toward her. “I can show her to you, if you would like to see her.”
“Would it be like before?” Belle wasn’t sure she wanted to experience anything that intense again.
“Yes, but I won’t give you the full experience.” He stepped closer, gently taking her hand. “I’ll just let you see her in my memory and I’ll be with you this time.”
The warmth of his hand seeped through her gloves and sent tingles through her arm. “Okay, I’d like that. Thank you.”
“You should close your eyes. It’ll make it easier for you to adjust to the change.”
Belle obeyed, feeling the tingles reach her stomach. Aleksander was so close to her…asking her to close her eyes. Briefly she imagined what it would be like to have him kiss her. Her lips began to part at the very idea.
“You may open them now,” Prince Aleksander said, sounding farther away.
Belle hadn’t felt her surroundings change or Aleksander let go of her hand. Her eyes opened. Belle instinctively stepped away when she saw the woman. She was tall, thin, and draped in a luxurious, blue cloak. It was trimmed in silver with matching archaic symbols decorating the cloth. Shining metal armor wrapped her chest, arms, and shoulders. A large, evil-looking dagger was strapped to her front waist. Everything she wore had strange symbols carved into it. Visible just beneath the cloak were small, cat-like black eyes and white skin.
“Terrifying, isn’t she?” Aleksander stood a few feet away, watching the woman. “Be grateful you can’t hear her voice too.”
“Why can’t I?” The norn talked to someone that Belle couldn’t see; she assumed that it was Aleksander. Belle looked around, but the room was hidden in blackness. The only thing in full detail was the woman.
“Some of it is personal,” The Prince replied vaguely. “She did tell me that she created the curse and that my kingdom was chosen by the wolf god, Fenrir, to receive this great honor, but that something had gone wrong. She said the roses that grew around the castle protected the people within from the curse.”
“How did the roses protect you?” Belle watched the norn, who stood with an air of invincibility.
“She said another norn had interfered long ago and planted seeds, embedded with the power of fatum, to protect this castle. But the roses only held the curse at bay. If we step beyond them, we succumb to the curse.”
“That’s why the roses grow and bloom here all year long.” Belle was beginning to understand, but at the same time it was all still strange to grasp. “You said that norns are sent by some universal power. Is that what this wolf god is?”
Belle had a horrible thought then…Could Aleksander’s captor be this wolf god? She recalled the image of him ripping a soldier from the saddle, and a chill ran through her. With all of his evidence, and the norn before her, Belle was becoming inclined to believe Aleksander’s version of events over that of the church’s. So if what he said was true, how was she to kill a god?
“No. The information I’ve found on norns has been scattered and brief, but the texts have been very clear. Norns are the most powerful beings and as such obey only the universe, not even the gods.” As Aleksander walked toward Belle, the strange woman faded and the blackness formed into the shape of his study. Oddly, she felt safer here, away from the norn. Aleksander went to his desk and picked up the book written in Old Norse. He tapped the pages thoughtfully. “I’m not sure how or why, but somehow Fenrir has convinced a norn to change fate for him.”
“Thank God the universe sent a norn to plant those enchanted roses.” Belle walked over to the window to look at the creeping rose vines below. So much information rattled through her brain. “The norn that placed the curse, why did she tell you all of that? Why did she talk to you at all?”
“She wanted me to join Fenrir willingly.” He started flipping through the book. “Of course, I would not follow a god who would do this to my kingdom.”
Belle turned to look at him. “Why did Fenrir curse your kingdom?”
“I believe this is why.” Aleksander gestured to the book. “After the norn came here, I started searching for all I could find on the wolf god and I came across a poem titled, Völuspá, and it reads that a woman came to the forest Járnviðr, ‘and bred there the broods of Fenrir.’ I believe that this Járnviðr, which the poem also calls Iron-wood, is Vakre Fjell Forest. ‘In the east sat an old woman in Iron-wood and nurtured there offspring of Fenrir’. The poem is mostly about killing the god, Odin, but I think Fenrir sent this norn here to create his broods, as it says.”
Belle was completely enraptured. She loved the way Aleksander read so easily from a book written in an all but forgotten language. Suddenly, she wanted badly to meet this man in person. “Is it this wolf god that has you imprisoned?”
“In a manner of speaking,” he answered, not looking up from the book.
“So he is not the thing I saw in your quarters yesterday?” Belle tilted her head, trying better to see the Prince’s face. “He’s not what’s holding you prisoner?”
“What holds me is not your concern, mademoiselle. Put it from your mind.” Aleksander looked at her through the veil of his lashes, the lines of his mouth flattening with sternness. “If you wish to help my kingdom—and therefore me—find a way to defeat the norn and to lift this curse. Only then, I feel, will we stop Fenrir’s plans.”
Belle straightened in subtle defiance, but she was not foolish enough to think she could go against a Prince Regent. Nor was she about to press her luck with one. “What is Fenrir’s plans? Why do all of this?”
“Why would any god want to make an army of blood-thirsty wolf spawn? To wage war and conquer.” He said it casually as he closed the old book, but Belle’s throat had gone dry.
It didn’t matter if they were great wolves or hellhounds, created by Fenrir or Satan, the end result was the same.
Aleksander closed the heavy book with a sigh and reached up to press his fingers against his eyelids, weary from the past week of endless research. He glanced at her, t
ilting his head curiously. “Have you been to see our gardens yet?”
Belle peered up from her own set of dusty pages and raised an eyebrow at him. “No, your Royal Highness. I’m restricted to my rooms if you recall.”
“Ah.” He scratched his chin, looking a little sheepish. Then he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands in his lap. “Well, that just proves the point I was about to make.”
“Which is?” Her interest piqued at his unusually playful manner.
“We’ve been cooped up in this study for too long. For five nights we’ve had our noses stuck in these dusty old books.” He reached across the table and took the book from Belle’s hand. He snapped it shut. “My brain is turning to mush. If I’m forgetting something as simple as your castle restrictions, then I must need a break.”
“Your evidence is certainly sound.” Belle grinned. “But I thought you wanted me to go over all of your research; see if I can find anything you may have overlooked?”
After the Prince’s order to not concern herself with his captor, Belle had decided to follow his lead and search for a way to break the curse, or defeat the norn. She didn’t dare ask Prince Aleksander about his captor again, not after his reaction from before, and no one else was willing to divulge in the topic—not even Edvina.
“For nearly a week’s time, you’ve been reading these old books, and you’ve seen little else.” He stood and tugged down the sleeves of his black brocade coat. Belle noticed the cuff links were custom embossed with the family seal. The Prince then offered his hand. “You cannot convince me that a visit to the royal gardens is not warranted.”
Belle couldn’t deny that she’d been dying to see more of the castle. Technically she was a prisoner and this place was cursed, perhaps even evil, but it was the only castle she was likely to ever be in. She wanted to see all of it, enjoy the grandeur that was so different from anything in Contefées.
Taking his hand, Belle let him guide her out of her chair. She closed her eyes as he instructed. A gust of cold wind snaked up her skirts, causing her to clutch his hand in surprise. But only when he said so, did she open her eyes.
They were in the courtyard; a section Belle had not yet wandered too. Before them was a glass building lined with stone and steel supports. A hard-edged roof led up to a domed glass top, like a church made of glass. Glass that was frosted on the outside and coated with steam on the inside.
Keeping hold of her hand, Aleksander escorted her up the few steps and under the steel awning where he held the door open for her. Heat wafted out the door, wrapping around her like water as she entered. Moisture was thick in the air. She breathed deeply, enjoying the heavy feel of it inside her lungs.
“Do you like it?” Aleksander closed the door behind him, shutting off the stream of cold air.
“Oh, I do.” Belle smiled as she gazed around the room. Never had she seen so much green—so much color! Flowery vines climbed walls, tendriled arrangements hung from the ceiling, and small aisles separated the many rows of exotic flora. “I love the cold beauty of God’s Cup, but I have never seen anything like this.”
“My mother loved flowers and insisted that our castle’s arrangements rival that of the warmer kingdoms.” The Prince kept off to the side, watching her smell the largest yellow flower she’d ever seen. “I think the enchanted roses did more to this castle than just protect it. We’ve been able to grow any foreign or strange flower my mother wished.”
“It must have been very hard for your mother, losing her husband and then seeing her lands cursed.” Belle marveled at a ladybug crawling along a thick, green leaf. Did they have the bugs imported too? The Prince didn’t say anything and she turned to look at him.
He was staring down at a flower, but not really seeing it. “After my father’s passing, my mother wanted to go out and see the people. She knew they were mourning and she wanted to mourn with them…”
Aleksander didn’t finish his story, and Belle didn’t need him to. The muscles in her chest tightened. She swallowed hard to relax them. “The Queen was outside the castle grounds when the curse hit.”
“She was.” He turned away from her, hiding his face and the tears she saw him fighting back.
His body had become tense, stretching the fabric of his clothes. Belle wanted to reach out, smooth her hands over his back and comfort him with her touch. Instead, she fiddled with the trim of her dress and searched for something to say. “Your sister was in France though when it happened. Thank God for that.”
She waited for his reply, but Prince Aleksander gave none. Allowing him space, Belle walked over to the archway opening into the other half of the greenhouse. Over here there were rows and rows of food. There were enough fruits and vegetables to feed the entire castle.
“What about your family?” Aleksander finally said. Belle glanced over at him, askance. He had turned back to her and the lines in his face had relaxed. “Have they been affected by this curse?”
“Yes, my mother was killed by a hellhou—wolf—about three years ago,” she began, grasping hold of her own emotions. It was difficult to talk about the hardships her family had endured. But with Prince Aleksander, she felt the desire to be forthright. “My father had thrown himself into the cause, giving up his inventions for the last five years. My sisters were sent away after my mother’s death.”
“So your family has been torn apart by this.” He paused, waiting until she met his eyes. “We have that in common then.”
“Many families have that in common, your Royal Highness.”
“Not like us, I’d imagine.” He formed a connection to Belle with his eyes, conveying the certainty he put behind his words.
Belle couldn’t look away and she couldn’t argue. Her breathing became shallow. “No, I suppose you’re correct.”
The moment stretched on with neither one speaking and she was perfectly content to bask in the stillness of his stare. Aleksander stepped towards her, then broke eye contact by casting his gaze over a row of tomatoes. “It’s a shame your father no longer invents.”
Finally, she inhaled. “Oh no, he’s built things over the years.”
Aleksander’s eyebrows rose, showing his baby blues even more. “Truly? What has he invented?”
“Many things.” Belle shrugged. “Currency counters, self-filling bathtubs, heated carriages…He even built an automaton pixie for me as a child. It still works to this day.”
“Amazing.” He smiled at Belle. Like his eyes, it was so open—so welcoming. Her heart felt like it was expanding in her chest. “I would like to see these inventions someday.”
She returned his smile, unable to prevent it. “He’d like that.”
Aleksander’s eyes danced over her curved lips. Then he blinked and gazed back into her eyes. “So tell me, how did the world react to the news of actual demons on Earth?”
“The same way it reacts to most things. A large uproar in the beginning, but soon they all lose interest.” Belle stepped back into the flower garden, slowly walking down one of the rows.
“What about the King of Norway and Sweden? Did old Charles have anything to say about it?” Aleksander said, his footsteps following closely behind.
“He sent ships to investigate, but the ports were overrun with hellhoun—wolves—then.” Belle glanced behind her, admiring the Prince’s long frame and perfect posture. “When these reports reached King Charles, all he said was that he knew he was destined to rule over two countries, but he never expected three.”
“Charles never was afraid to speak plainly. So if he intended to retake Vakre Fjell, why hasn’t he arrived at my gates yet?”
“The cursed. Some say he’s biding his time, letting the wolves eat themselves into starvation. Others say he’s just afraid of them.” Belle found a green, metal bench along a frosted window. She pulled out the pearl and gold skirts of her dress to sit. Each day a new gown was brought for her and they were all finer than anything she’d ever worn. “The only thing they seem to agree on is
that King Charles would see any country coming to your aid as a threat to what he believes is his by rites. And no one wishes to go to war with Norway and Sweden.”
“Other countries aren’t worried about the potential Hell on Earth threat?” Aleksander fiddled absently with a wall-climbing vine. They were all over this area. Belle felt nearly surrounded by the leafy plants.
“They are. So they make sure the Catholic Church has all the resources it needs to keep the hounds contained.”
“Oh, of course. As long as it doesn’t become a direct threat, there are other things to worry about.” Aleksander nodded, accepting this terrible statement so easily. “What of the public? Do they have an opinion on the matter?”
“A very mixed opinion, actually.” Belle frowned. She didn’t like the path their conversation had taken. Every word she spoke made the world seem so cruel and uncaring. That wasn’t true for everyone—it wasn’t true for her. “Most believe the church, that the Vakreins were sinful and turned by the Devil. Some won’t even admit that they had family or friends living here because they’re afraid that they’ll be marked by it. Many in the scientific communities, however, believe there may be more to it.”
“Really?” Aleksander’s face lit up again, much the way it did when he asked about Henri’s inventions. He sat on the bench opposite her, tugging his vest and straightening his shoulders. “And what have they said about it?”
“Oh, many things…Many theories.” She wanted to keep the conversation here, in a place that lightened the Prince’s mood. “They petitioned the church incessantly in the beginning, but even now they still try to get consent. The church won’t agree though and in this situation, the church has all the power.”
“Consent? For what?”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” Belle fumbled, realizing she’d left out the most important part. “The church has received requests to autopsy some of the bodies and to capture a live hound for experiments.”