by Deborah Noel
I didn’t have a chance to say goodbye. We sped away into the trees. I wrapped my arms around the stranger’s waist and squeezed my thighs tightly against the metal of the bike which was hurtling me through the woods. I was completely confused as to where exactly I had been, how I gotten there and in which direction I was going.
We stopped just before reaching the edge of the trees. I could see the Castle’s shadowy structure a few hundred yards away. My escort untangled my hands from around his waist and lifted me off the bike. “Stay here,” he ordered in a deep voice. Then he was gone.
Without making a peep, suddenly there was a young girl holding my left hand. When I looked at her, I could barely see her eyes, the rest of her was draped in a dark cape-like cloth. She raised a finger to her lips instructing me to keep quiet.
She looked around, sniffed the air, then when she felt all was okay, she ushered me to the back service door of Rodeck Castle. We entered and took the elevator up through the tower part of the Castle. She pulled out a key and used it to open the door in front of us. Declan was standing at the window looking out. Brae was asleep on the sofa.
The girl’s eyes looked from me to Declan and back to me. She disappeared back into the elevator, pulling and locking the door almost without a sound. Declan turned to face me. A tear fell down his cheek. He rushed over to hold me.
“I was so worried I’d never see you again.”
I sunk into his arms, against his chest and whispered, “I want to go home.”
Chapter Thirty-two
I woke up to the quiet mumbling of the TV in the other room. Declan had already gotten out of bed, I could hear the shower running in the bathroom. I had fallen asleep in my sweats, so I just eased my feet into my lambskin slippers and headed for the make-shift living room in our suite.
I stopped short when I saw Declan and Branwen sitting on the sofa eyes fixed to the TV and their jaws hanging open. I followed their gazes to the television.
The scene was of a horrific fire devouring beautiful crop fields. Just then the view switched to a home in near rubble with firefighters still dousing orange flames that danced with fury. A reporter came into the frame and across the bottom flashed her name and location. I read the words three times before it sunk in. Dethstare Gaardens. Just when the firefighters seemed to relax, another area would flare up with a vengeance.
“A witch’s fire spell,” Brae explained, “I’ve seen them before. This one is meant to destroy everything. No amount of water can stop it until there is nothing left but the earth upon which the target stood. This spell even included the crops.”
The reporter spoke in German, explaining that the highly loved and respected owner of the land, Ms. Evelyn Dethstare, had gone missing, and once the fire scene was declared safe, investigators would be combing the wreckage to hopefully find her and the cause of this deadly inferno.
“They won’t find her,” Brae announced.
I looked surprisingly at my friend, “How do you know?”
She never took her eyes from the TV. Pointing at the screen, she explained. “Do you see the white glow at the base of the fire near where the front door should be?”
Declan and I answered yes.
“Do you see the blue hue next to it?”
I strained to see it.
“Barely,” Declan answered.
“Oh, I see it now,” I said, “but it is very faint.”
“The white fire will burn the rest of it away so that there will be no trace of it. That is a … let’s call it a by-product of a freezing spell that a witch will use to render a combative target incapable of resisting. She was taken captive. Her place is being burned as some sort of punishment.”
We all sat quietly for a moment.
“Someone paid big bucks for this to happen. I can’t wait to see how the authorities explain this one. This fire is not just some random fire. It was a spell of a witch.”
“How do you know that?” I asked.
She just laughed at me. “I should have known you couldn’t recognize it. See the purplish color floating within the flames? Well that’s one sign. Secondly, see how the flames flare up and become more violent when water hits them? That’s another for-sure sign of a spell. It’s all little things a witch can recognize that a regular human wouldn’t know to look for. I’m hoping to see something that will tell me if the creator left an indentifying sign, but so far whoever conjured up this spell did a good job of it and has left no clue as to who this fire’s author is.”
My cell phone announced that I had received a text message. I walked over to the table to retrieve it. I looked out the window as I waited for the message to appear on the screen. I could see a billowing dark cloud of smoke rising up to join the heavens off in a distance. I felt a twinge inside hoping that Ms. Evelyn and Jondra were somewhere safe. I looked down at the text as it appeared.
I began to tremble as I read the message. “Save yourselves; get out of Germany now. You have a short window of opportunity. A flight is waiting for you at the airport. The bellhop knows where to take you. You can trust him. If you wait too long I will not be able to help you. Jondra.”
Declan was standing behind me, reading the message over my shoulder. Brae was already across the room at the door.
Declan looked at her, “Five minutes Branwen. We can’t wait.”
And with that she was out the door to pack her bags.
Declan wasted no time. He skipped his shower and cleared the bathroom of our belongings. I was dressed and had the suitcases on the bed instantly. Within a few short minutes we were packed up and had the suitcases waiting by the door. Declan picked up the phone to call the front desk for a bellhop when there was a knock on the door. I slowly opened the door expecting it to be Brae, but it was a bellhop ready to retrieve our luggage.
Like the man who took me to see Jondra the night before, this bellhop said nothing. He went about his business of gathering all of our bags, then crossed the hall to add Brae’s to ours. He returned to our room with Brae in tow. He went to the closet in our bedroom and opened a hidden compartment. We followed him through the doorway into a tight dark corridor. The hidden door replaced itself sealing us off from the room. He then made a sharp whistle sound and a small glow illuminated the passage way before us.
We followed our guide as we descended deep within the hidden portion of the castle until we came to an archway with huge oak doors. The man rapped twice upon the thick wood. A few moments later the doors opened revealing a chamber that was richly decorated with red and purple velvet draperies and polished stone flooring. Placed in the middle of this space were several plush sofas and high back chairs. A large oblong oval oak table with thick chairs stood off to the right. A television, facing the sofas, had the same news station as we were watching upstairs still following the breaking fire story at Dethstare Gaardens; though the volume was off. The picture showed flames blazing up and teasing the firefighters. Our bellhop motioned for us to sit on the sofas as he pulled the cart with our luggage across the room to another huge archway with thick oak doors.
He walked to the table and lit the ancient looking candelabras. He then grabbed a small brown box and a white envelope and walked over to us. He handed them both to me. In a heavy German accent, he dryly said, “Your plane is being prepared for your departure. I will take you to it when it is ready.” He turned around and disappeared through a small archway, leaving us to ourselves.
I turned my attention to the box now sitting in my lap. There were no markings and it was taped closed. I handed the box to Declan as Brae turned up the volume slightly on the TV. Declan shook the box around, but that offered no clue as to what was inside. The box was as light as a pile of feathers.
Without looking from the news report Brae called over her shoulder, “It’s safe to open it. I’ve already cast a protection spell.”
I chuckled and took the box back from my husband. I used my fingernails to split the tape in the middle along the edges of the top
flaps of the box. Inside was shredded newspaper with a small razor thin cell phone. I flipped open the phone and a message appeared on the tiny screen.
“This is an untraced mobile that I will use to contact you soon. Be safe. Jondra”
“Humph,” Declan grumbled.
I flipped the phone shut and stuffed it into the inside pocket of my sweat-jacket. I picked up the white envelope. A twinge coursed through my body as the premonition from the other night flashed through my mind. I ripped it open.
I unfolded the paper to read the note.
Please accept my sincerest apologies for the episode at dinner last night. I hope I did not offend you or your husband. My grandson is in trouble and I’m trying to find him to protect him from powers he does not understand.
I have spoken to Benipal and he wants very much to meet with you. When I told him of your Irish pixie heritage he became very adamant in making sure I arranged a meeting between you both.
I have some of my employees inquiring about the disappearance of your daughter. If I receive any word, I will be sure to pass it along to you.
I hope we can meet again before you close your visit to Germany.
Kindest Regards,
Rogi
I read the letter twice. On the second reading, I noticed a smudge at the end of the first paragraph as if something was erased. Declan pointed to the smudge too. I looked at him.
He whispered in my head telepathically, “I was reading your mind.”
Suddenly Brae gasped. We both looked to her. She was standing and backing up toward us, pointing to the TV. There on the screen should a tall burly man dressed in jeans and a pullover sweater. He stood with his arms folded tightly against his chest. His facial features seemed to be chiseled from stone. His dark hair, peppered with gray, fell straight to the top of his shoulders. His eyes were dark, unreadable and haunting. He had a thick gold hoop through his left eyebrow with a ball. His five o’clock shadow was perfectly groomed and accented his features with an appealing sharpness. Around his neck he wore a small black vile on a gold chain. Looking at him would stop you in your tracks and fill your heart with fear. That wasn’t the part that was chilling to me. He was talking to a reporter not far from the embers that were still bursting with flames with total disregard and detachment. And a hint of pride.
Standing behind him was a pale woman who never lifted her eyes. Her head hung low. She was clothed in a long plain brown dress with a cloak draped over her. The cloak was tied closed at her neck. She kept her hands clasped behind her back. You could almost see her trembling.
His name was printed across the bottom of the screen in bold yet simple font. Oxmeade Carlsburg.
Still trying to get oxygen into her lungs, she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “Do you know who that is?”
I remembered what Jondra told me about him.
“The most feared evil in the world,” Brae and I said in unison. Declan looked at us both.
“How do you know that?” I asked Brae at the same time she asked me.
“Um, excuse me,” Declan chimed in, “what did I miss?”
I answered first, “I asked Jondra since Sam brought up the name.”
“I have seen his work and his face firsthand, but we refer to him as the brutal one,” Brae stated with a shudder.
“Girls…”
We ignored Declan and continued note swapping.
Brae explained, “Not too many years ago, a neighboring covenant had a member who was accused of casting spells that destroyed vampires. Simple spells such as pouring boiling water over any cracks or holes visible on gravesites or walking a horse back and forth over the gravesites. Unfortunately, one of the vampires she killed was Oxmeade’s partner. He hunted her down and tortured her openly in public to make an example of his brutal tendencies. He showed no mercy, he executed her slowly. She suffered an agonizing death.
“Her sisters tried to avenge her death, but he captured them one by one and killed them, one more disgustingly than the last. He kept one alive. He made a deal with her, if she would agree to be at his beck and call and work solely for him, he would let her live.”
“The girl standing behind him at Dethstare's,” Declan said.
Brae nodded in confirmation.
Just then the bellhop returned. “Your plane is ready. We must go now.”
We followed him out the big oak door and into a waiting dark car with dark tinted windows. We were sped off to a small private airport, where we were quickly ushered on board a charter plane. In no time we were in the air and flying home.
Chapter Thirty-three
The puddle-jumper we were flying in was called a Cessna Citation and could hold about nine or so passengers, but only the three of us, the pilot, co-pilot and a flight attendant were on board. There were rows, one seat wide, with a few seats that faced each other. Declan and I took those seats so we could talk face to face and Brae sat on the opposite side of the small isle. Our attendant wore a badge with the name “Kelly” printed on it. She was quietly sitting in the back of the plane waiting to accommodate our needs. The only sound was the purr of the engine as we flew through the clouds. We were otherwise silent.
Declan was stretched out in front of me. He smiled at me before closing his eyes. Brae was busy chanting a spell, probably another one for our protection. I took Rogi’s note from my pocket and read it again. I was interested in the prospect of meeting Benipal to learn all I could from him. I felt a twinge of guilt for not seeing Rogi again before we left, but time was of the essence and Jondra left me no option.
My mind went to thoughts of Jondra. I hoped she was okay, as I did Ms. Evelyn.
I revisited the smudge and examined it carefully. It looked like an “O” going into another letter, but I couldn’t be sure. Oxmeade instantly popped into my mind. I reread the first paragraph again. It seemed to fit. “… protect him from powers he doesn’t understand.” Just made sense to me.
“I agree,” Declan chimed in, in my head. I looked up at him. He still had his eyes closed and smiled. “I have been brushing up on my mind reading skills. I think you are on the right track. And Brae is casting a protection spell.”
I just smiled at him. “Don’t I have any privacy?”
“Sure. I’m gone. Poof.”
“I know you’re still in here,” I challenged him.
No reply. No curve added to the corner of his lips. He didn’t even flinch.
I glanced over a Brae and then it hit me. Out of the blue. When we first met her in front of Mattie’s school she said she was Irish. When we got to Germany, she told the tale of her German and witch bloodline in the hallway in front of the picture. Which was she? And why did she lie?
Declan’s eyes bolted open and moved from my gaze to a glare at Brae.
“I’ll handle this,” I told him telepathically.
I slid across the aisle and into the seat facing my witch friend. She was still chanting under her breath with her eyes closed. I reached out and touched her knee. I startled her.
“Just adding a little protection for us.”
“I know.” I looked into her eyes.
“Is there a problem?”
“Well, I have a question.”
She sat up, “Shoot.”
“Well, I need an honest answer.”
“Of course. Of course.”
“Do you remember when we first met outside of Mattie’s school?”
“Yes.”
“You told us you were Irish. And then when we first got into the hallway of Rodeck Castle, you told the tale of a German heritage. Which is it?”
“The German one,” her normal smile faded from her face.
“Why did you lie when we first met?”
She looked from me to Declan. “I’m surprised you caught that. I was hoping you were so distraught over Mattie’s disappearance you would forget about such details.”
Declan spoke up, “Well, I did, but Cianna didn’t.”
“So wh
y?” I pressed.
She looked at me and sighed. “The truth?”
“Only.”
“It’s a long story.”
“We have a few hours.”
Brae sighed, “Okay, but you aren’t going to like this.”
“I will like the truth, no matter what it is.”
“The witch that I told you about while we were waiting for the plane…”
“The one who was tortured and killed by Oxmeade.”
“Yes. She was my sister. My real sister.” She inhaled a deep breath.
“When she was new into our world of witchcraft, she got a little overzealous with her spells and did, in fact, go out to a cemetery and performed the destroying vampire spells. She figured no harm, no foul; they were dead creatures anyway who only hurt innocent people.
“It turns out that one of the vampires she eliminated was Oxmeade’s female partner. He was beyond furious. They had been together for hundreds of years. We never did learn how he did it, but he found my sister and questioned her about. She, of course, denied it at first, but apparently he hired a different witch to cast a truth spell, so he gave her one more chance to come clean. She could only shake her head no, but her eyes gave her away. He promised to kill her entire covenant and her blood family as well. After hours of silence and torture, she broke and confessed.”
A phantom-like anger came over Brae’s pale face as she continued, “That evening, Oxmeade took her to the center of town and hung her to a cross over a pile of kindling and brush. He called an assembly of authority figures, top witches and vampires and forced her to confess in public. I won’t go into the details of how brutally she was tortured, but I will tell you that she was set ablaze and as the flames reached her body, he promised to kill her loved ones as she had done to him.
“Her remains where left in place for weeks as a reminder of the punishment for her crimes to those who may have similar thoughts of spell casting. Shane, being a top wizard, was required to attend. He overheard Oxmeade’s promise to kill Sable’s loved ones and petitioned for the elders to put a stop to Oxmeade. There was a meeting between all of the head vampires and witches and wizards. It was determined that Oxmeade had gotten justice by Sable’s death and he was forbidden to carry out his promise.