Tangled Blood Lines

by Deborah Noel

  “I wouldn’t have it any other way,” Brae responded.

  “I filled Sam in on your heritage,” Shane told his girlfriend in an attempt not to divulge too much information.

  Brae smiled, “I told them, too.” She looked to me and Declan.

  I think I tried to smile. We all knew they were delicately talking about Brae being a witch. For some reason I chuckled, “Well, while we are being open and honest and sharing secrets, I am semi-telepathic.”

  “Semi?” Brae questioned.

  “Yeah, I can only have a conversation with Declan easily; Sam if I concentrate on Declan while they are speaking to each other, and Mattie.”

  “And Mattie?” my new witch friend said. “Why don’t you communicate with her now to find out where she is?”

  “I tried, back at the school. Her skills are limited as she is so young. If we are more than a mile or so apart, she can’t do it. She screamed out to me while the vampire and wolves were fighting in the back yard at the house, the vampire heard her and focused on me, that gave the wolves the upper hand to win. I put up my walls so no more airwaves were broadcasted.”

  “I can only hear Mattie within Cianna’s head,” Declan chimed in. “She and I were working on her skills trying to strengthen them and expand them.”

  “Well,” Shane began. “I can’t hear people’s thoughts but I can see the images they project in their mind. I have to be touching the person to see into the mind.”

  “Your drawings,” Declan and I exclaimed together.

  “Exactly what I saw,” I whispered, thoroughly impressed by his skills, both as an artist and as a person who can see the things in others’ mind.

  Sam laughed so hard his hand smacked the table. “Aren’t we just a unique bunch of misfits?”

  “Can we get back to the vampire and wolves fighting in the backyard?” Shane asked with much interest.

  I explained the whole fight that unfolded before me not less than 12 hours prior.

  “The vampire that took off…” Shane’s voice trailed off.

  A hush hung in the air.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Sam got up from the conference table and went into his office.

  The advantage of being a detective and also part of a crime scene investigation lab is that just about every technological advantage to look into any record is available to help find out information.

  Sam checked every airline’s records to see if Mattie’s name or the Dethstares’ names were listed in their passenger logs in our state plus the states that surround Pennsylvania.

  None of their names came up.

  He then checked the FAA’s records for all the flight plans registered for the past 24 and next 24 hours. He found three flight plans that piqued his interest. All were small private planes flying from private airports within five hours of our town. One left just before noon from a small airport and filed a flight plan that took the plane and it passengers into Canada, with a stop for a quick refuel, then on to the bottom tip of Greenland, another fuel stop, flying on to Iceland, England and finally stopping on the east coast of Germany.

  The second took to the air less than an hour ago. The plane was a twin engine plane, so it was able to travel further, stopping less for refueling. The plan again took the plane from Pennsylvania to Canada and then on to Iceland, bypassing Greenland, stopping in Ireland, with France as its final destination.

  The third small plane whose path was to fly from our general area to overseas was scheduled to leave within a few hours. Its flight plan had it flying from Pennsylvania to Canada then on to Greenland, followed by Iceland and a stop in England and finally flying into an airport called Basel in Switzerland.

  Black Forest was on the west coast of Germany bordered by France and Switzerland. The Rhine River was shared by all three.

  Any one of those flights could be carrying the Dethstares and/or Mattie.

  Sam placed a call to the officer in charge of missing persons and had him send out an officer to each of the departing airports and snoop around to see if anyone matching Mattie’s or the Dethstares’ descriptions boarded the planes matching the flight plans. The officer promised to call if he found out anything.

  Meanwhile, Shane and Brae booked a flight to Germany’s Black Forest for Brae, Declan and myself. Our flight was scheduled to leave in six short hours. Plenty of time to pack and get to the airport.

  We barely made it in time.

  We were in for a long flight. I was lucky I was able to sleep during the ride.

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  We traveled through the villages and valleys of Black Forest the entire day. Every time we stopped to ask for directions to Hellheim’s Eternity Hall, we were given misleading information. We weren’t exactly sure where we were going or how to get there. All we knew about Hellheim’s Eternity Hall was that it was located in Black Forest. What we didn’t know was just how big of a place Black Forest was.

  The beauty of the place was enough to make us miss a turn, but it was even harder finding our turn when we didn’t know which turn it was we were looking for.

  By dusk, we were in a small village called Kappelrodeck, in Württemberg. High on a hill sat Rodeck Castle which had been turned into a bed and breakfast. Brae and I persuaded Declan to go there to stay the night. There was something that spoke to me about the place.

  The castle was spectacular. It commanded respect as its giant stature overlooked the town with its beauty. From a distance, trees shielded the castle, masking its true enormity.

  As we traveled up the road leading to the entrance, the architecture was stunning in its detail. Huge curved walls stepped up the hill with greenage cascading down upon the next level. The stonework was pieced together with precision. Windows offered mountain and valley views for the guests. Dog-house dormers in different styles and sizes decorated the roof line.

  On one side, a huge tower reached high into the sky. Its steeple-like top looked like three wrought-iron fingers stretched up, seeking the attention of any lightning bolts. Beautiful wrought-iron fencing enclosed the flat roof next to the tower. A weather-vane stood at the far-side. It spun with the blowing wind.

  We parked in the designated area and walked the rest of the way to the big brown heavy front doors. Huge shapely trees with twisted branches stood tall beside the Castle. Life-sized concrete lions stood beside the trees poised to attack if the moment required such action. Wide brick steps with the same black wrought iron led the way to the massive stone patio. Decorative evergreens were in pots and placed around the landing of the steps. Huge three-light lampposts were everywhere.

  An alcove jetted from the front of the Castle close to the front door. It was two stories tall and curved like the tower on the opposite side. Imitations pillars tight to the windows held up its own roof that matched the rest of the roofs.

  To the left of the front door, spiral stairs climbed the side of the Castle.

  Four steps welcomed visitors to the front doors. A carving of a woman and a man in the stone greeted each person who wanted to walk through their doors. Above the door was a stone cameo with a beautiful face in the center.

  I watched as Brae’s face froze. Her eyes grew big. A smile in her blue-gray discs matched the one growing on her already pouty lips. She suddenly had a bounce in her step. Like a giddy school-girl, she turned to me clapping her hands.

  “Can you feel it?” She asked me.

  I arched my eyebrows in answer.

  She rushed back to me and took me hand. She turned to the Castle’s rustic facade and closed her eyes. Squeezing my hand, she silently urged me to follow her lead. I looked to the Castle; I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  Slowly I could feel something touch my soul. No words could have spoken so clearly to me. I felt a Heaven-like peace. A soothing of troubles. An aching quenched.

  I was amazed, “Oh where has this feeling been all my life?”

  Brae giggled.

  I looked to her, “I’
m sorry, did I say that out loud?”

  Declan was at the reservation desk when we walked through the heavy arched doorway.

  “I took the liberty of getting us two adjoining rooms. I didn’t think that would be a problem.”

  I winked at him. “You’re the best!”

  There were no elevators in the Castle. Guests had to trudge up the stairs to their accommodations. Thank goodness the bellhops made the journey up the thick steep stairway easier. (I suspected there was an elevator that was tucked away somewhere in the back.)

  I climbed the stairs with the mentality of a star-struck teenager. It was a good thing each step was deep, thick stone that offered enough room for me to circle about taking in the aura of the ancient walls and their decorations.

  Huge oil portraits that were decades old hung in heavy wooden frames displaying the royalty that once ruled Rodeck with honor and prestige. The older pictures were being held intact by the glass protecting it. Thin tear lines added character to the already silent story the faces held. If you listened closely enough, you could feel the buzz of the haunting tales.

  After winding up two floors, we reached the hallway of rooms. There was a faded and worn red carpet that showed the way down the hallway. The huge tower that once served as the guard tower during great old skirmishes brought the hallway to an end.

  Suddenly behind us, the bell-hop offered, “There is a door in your rooms so you can go into the tower and experience the breathtaking views. I would strongly suggest taking in a sunset or sunrise. It will be a treasure in your memory you will visit often.”

  The young boy had a certain mature charm. He smiled at me. He kept his eyes low. He looked to Brae and a strange smile washed over his thin lips, “These rooms are usually saved for visiting family descendants. Are you of Ehly descent?”

  “I do believe there are Ehlys on my father’s side,” she answered him. “But how would you know that?”

  He offered no answer as he continued to lead us down the hallway.

  He stopped before the tower’s curved wall and the answer presented itself to Brae.

  Hanging in a modest dark wooden frame was a charcoal sketch of a young girl sitting sadly in a rocking chair. The unhappiness in her eyes wiped away the smile from your own face. Behind her stood a tall powerful man, whose stature made the girl seem so tiny, though she resembled him. He had a hand upon her shoulder. A shorter woman stood slightly behind the man, her face showed empathy yet it wore obedience.

  This wasn’t a happy family portrait. I looked closely at the girl in hopes of learning the cause of the dismay. I did a double take, and moved in to make sure I was seeing what was in front of me. I looked at my friend beside me, who was still carrying on a conversation with the bell-hop. I tapped her shoulder and pointed to the girl in the picture.

  The bell-hop stood there nodding his head. “You’re the spitting image of her. From the shape of your eyes to the curves of your lips. From stories I’ve heard, I believe your blue irises duplicate hers. You are a little taller than I heard she was; perhaps genes from your mother’s side?”

  Branwen, my witch friend, took a step closer to gaze at what could have been her reflection. Without moving she questioned the man holding our duffle-bags beside her.

  “Her rebellion, captured here, its root?”

  He straightened up as he recanted the story his thick broken-English enhanced its authenticity, “Rodeck Castle was, for centuries, the seat of this Ehly family. They were an aristocratic family. Centuries ago, legend has it that their beautiful only daughter fell in love with a peasant boy. Her powerful father forbade her to marry the boy. The girl ran away to the other side of the valley and took up life as a hermit in a huge outcrop of rocks in the middle of the mountainside vineyards.” He paused. He had told this story a few times before. “The outcropping was known as Dasenstein. Over the years, the townsfolk came to believe that the girl was a powerful and good witch who watched over their blessed grape crops. The local wine cooperatives are known by the name, Hex von Dasenstein (Witch of Dasenstein). Its wines are renown throughout Europe.”

  Brae snickered, “Hex von Dasenstein is my favorite wine.”

  “What more can you tell me of the legend?” the boy asked in a whisper.

  Brae reflected for a few moments. Declan and I were mesmerized by this turn of events.

  “My great, great, great grandmother was said to have disappeared during a cold dreary night in December. She took shelter on the valley's vine-clad slope in a massive rock formation known as the Dasenstein. There she lived, an outcast, her deviations from religious norms earning her the label, the witch of Dasenstein - Hex vom Dasenstein. It's said she used magic to befuddle anyone who came near her home. And it was also said she watched over their grape crops.

  “In February of the next year, she visited her mother on the night of her father’s death. Honoring her husband’s dying wish, the woman banished her only daughter from their Castle and stripped her of her rights as heir. The daughter, named after her maternal grandmother, Gwenediere, married the love of her life, the man her father forbade her to, Sebastian Ludke. They went on to become the owners of Black Forest’s number one winery. They had 17 children over the years and their family soon become more powerful than most of the Royalty in that age.

  “Sebastian was a mysterious man. He lived well into his hundreds in good health with his Gwenediere always beside him. He was said to have trained under Merlin, and with Merlin’s permission taught his wife and his children all that he learned, though his wife knew of magic on her own before their marriage.

  “Many years passed and Gwenediere’s seven brothers died, leaving this world with few issues. Her mother died restlessly during a long nasty bout with the consumption. None of her grandchildren wanted to take up residence in the Castle, as they all swore it was cursed. Years of neglect began to show in the Castle. Gwenediere asked Sebastian to buy it from her estranged nephews and nieces who held its title. They paid a good penny for it and even more to restore it. They made a happy home of it here. These pictures were left hanging to remind them of what they didn’t want to ever become.”

  A tear glistened in my friend’s eye before it fell upon her high cheekbone.

  “I am one of Sebastian’s honored students and lucky to be one of his great, great, great grandchildren.”

  The boy stomped his foot on the floor. “I knew it! The moment I saw you walking through the arch.”

  He reached out to shake her hand. She offered it to him politely. He took her fingers into his and put his lips gently upon the back of her hand. She nodded appreciatively at him.

  He lowered his voice, and just above a whisper asked, “And Gwenediere’s mother?”

  Brae leaned into him, still with her hand in his, “A witch whose identity was never revealed until Merlin lifted the curse after her death.”

  “And her crime?”

  “She stole from Merlin. He cursed her to live a miserable existence, with her powers always just beyond her reach to help her. She was to lose the thing she most adored, which later came to be her daughter, Gwenediere. Out of respect for her children, and to keep them from paying for her sins, her identity as a witch remained secret.”

  The boy squealed with glee.

  He straightened and opened the door to one room on one side of the hall, and took a few steps across the hall and opened the door. He stood back under the picture against the tower’s wall and motioned for us to view our rooms.

  “Miss,” he called as Brae stepped foot into the doorway, “I can show you where Sebastian and Gwenediere left this world to go onto the next.”

  “I would love to see it, perhaps after dinner and some rest?”

  “I’ll ring your room.” And with that he disappeared down the hallway.

  The room was amazingly cozy for being within a stone structure. Flames were dancing within a fireplace to the far side of the room.

  The décor of the suite-size room was top-notch. Th
e carpet was plush under my feet, even with shoes on. It was bright and cheery, even the pictures hanging on the walls depicted pleasant scenes. A king size bed sported more bed pillows and throw pillows then I had ever seen. It was so inviting.

  An updated 40-inch flat screen television hung suspended from the wall. Its remote rested on the nightstand beside the bed. A lamp, alarm clock and telephone kept the remote company. A roll-top desk sat off to the side against the wall of the television. It was stocked with stationery, pens and pencils. An internet jack and plug were ready for a computer.

  The bathroom was twice the size of my own at home. A heart-shaped tube surrounded by a small tiled deck sat off to the side. A rounded shower stall wide enough for two took up the corner. An old fashioned toilet with the tank suspended above and a pull chain to flush was positioned next to a double sink. A full length mirror went to the ceiling behind the sink. Plush throw rugs covered the tiled floor. Shelves were filled with towels of the best fabric and aromatic candles burned gently in their glass holders.

  The heat lamp was an added bonus.

  After relaxing in a wonderfully HOT shower, I gently woke Declan who had fallen asleep on a chair at the window overlooking the lush gardens.

  We met Brae in a family style restaurant on the first floor. We waited for the maitre d' who escorted us to the dining room. Dinner was a delightful array of German cuisine. Stretched out across a large table was more food than I had ever seen in one place. There was the famous Black Forest ham, which the maitre d', Marcus, explained had been seasoned with special spices and cured over a pine brushwood and sawdust from the Black Forest itself. There also was Veal Fricassee, Russian eggs, Smoked Trout with creamed horseradish, Escargot in Fine Herb Garlic Butter, grilled Portobello with roasted sea scallops, along with at least four different styles of salads. There were at least a half a dozen platters of sausage. The desserts came out next. My favorite was the Black Forest Gateau.