Ashes of Iris

by Stephanie Poscente

  As they passed the front counter on their way out, she caught a glimpse of their waiter crouched behind it. He was rummaging through the cupboards underneath, and did not see them pass. Aunt Marilyn paused and placed a friendly hand on his shoulder.

  “Thank you so much,” she began. “It was-”

  She yanked her hand back as he jerked upright and stumbled out of reach. His eyes were wide and he leaned back into the counter, as if hoping to ward her off.

  “Oh, I'm sorry,” Aunt Marilyn proclaimed, putting a hand out in apology. “I didn't mean to startle you.”

  “No,” the waiter spoke, his voice deep and his accent strong. “Please. Have a nice day.”

  He remained still, keeping his eyes focused on her hand as she lowered it. His blue eyes shifted to Sophie's face and she couldn’t understand why she saw fear in them.

  “Let's go,” Katie's voice rang out.

  Sophie tore her eyes from the frightened man's face. Katie stood by the door, one hand resting on the handle, and tapped her foot impatiently. Tim and Carol rushed to her side, ignorant of the waiter's strange behavior.

  “He sure was strange,” Aunt Marilyn said, placing a hand on Sophie's arm. “Are you ready to go?”

  “Yeah,” Sophie replied. She glanced back at the waiter, but he was gone. “Let's go.”

  The black truck navigated the winding gravel road, twisting and bumping with barely a jostle to its occupants. As they drove, Sophie could not keep the waiter's fear-filled eyes from her thoughts. The motive behind his reaction was a complete mystery to her.

  “Maybe he just doesn't trust foreigners,” she said to herself upon reaching the quiet safety of her room. The stone walls repeated her words back to her, exacerbating the room's emptiness. With nothing to do but wait for dinner, she made her way to the bathroom, locking herself in and taking a moment to relax.

  The modern features of the bathroom stood in stark contrast to the rest of the castle. It had all been recently re-done, according to her aunt, though the plumbing and electrical had been added many years prior. The granite counter and claw-footed tub stood out against the chipped stone tiles of the floor and walls. She turned the brass handle on the edge of the tub, holding her hand under the stream of freezing water until it gradually began to warm. With the warmth grew a feeling of calm, and she pulled off her clothes in anticipation of immersing her body entirely in its depths.

  After a few minutes, the soothing water had all but put her to sleep. She lazed against the padded headrest with her eyes closed and let the silence pound against her ears. Her fingers ran down the length of her thighs, massaging away every last ounce of tension. She sighed, absolutely content for the first time in weeks. Pulling her arms from the water and resting her hands on the edges of the tub, she immersed her shoulders and neck, feeling the frigid air pierce through the layer of moisture on her exposed skin.

  After twenty minutes – her fingertips shriveled and her skin flushed with heat – she had almost decided to peel herself from the luxury when a deafening crash just outside the bathroom door shook the mirror on the wall and created shallow ripples on the surface of the water. Jolting upright, Sophie glanced at the space under the door, half-hoping to see the shadow of feet on the other side. She listened for a moment before standing and wrapping herself in one of the castle's oversized towels. Tiptoeing to the door, the towel clutched in both hands, she pressed her ear against the cold wood and closed her eyes, waiting.

  Save for the slow drip of water draining in the tub behind her, all was silent.

  She stepped back, taking a deep breath to slow her racing heart, and pulled the door open an inch. Peeking through the crack, she could see that her bag was still sitting untouched on the chair and all in her line of sight remained intact.

  Opening the door further, she stepped forward.

  “Hello?” she called softly into the empty room. After a moment of complete silence, she left the safety of the moist bathroom, feeling foolish. The sound must have come from outside somewhere. She chuckled at her reaction, scolding herself for being so wound up as she rifled through her clothes and began to dress.

  The following morning, Sophie woke late.

  She had tossed and turned for hours after climbing between the cool sheets. Though the sun had barely set when she excused herself from the dinner table, she had not fallen asleep until nearly three o'clock in the morning. Even then, her dreams were disturbed and fitful.

  A foggy memory floated through her mind as she sat up in bed and rubbed her eyes. Vengeful eyes glared at her from underneath a mass of dark hair, a sharp finger jabbed at her chest. She felt a glimmer of apprehension, but shook her head.

  “Just a dream,” she whispered.

  Swinging her sleep-heavy legs over the edge of the bed, she reached for her watch on the bedside table. A quick glance at its face sent her hand flying to her head and she let out a shout of dismay.

  “Five-thirty?” she gasped. “That's impossible!”

  Soaring out of bed, she flew through the room, stopping in front of the large, antique clock above the mantle. Her mind was already racing through excuses, anything to explain how she had slept through the day and missed the arrival of Katie's groom that afternoon.

  One look at the clock set her heart at ease and she laughed out loud in relief.

  “I am such an idiot,” she said to herself, twisting the small dial on her watch until the hands reflected the proper time zone. “Eleven-thirty.”

  Standing for a minute, letting the adrenaline filter out of her bloodstream, she was surprised at how awake she felt after such a terrible night. The bathroom mirror reflected nothing of the sporadic rest she had had, save for a slight shadow under her eyes. She dragged her body back to the bed and debated whether or not to crawl into the disgruntled sheets. She stood at its foot for a moment, feeling slightly guilty, before climbing onto the mattress on her hands and knees and shuffling toward the still warm and inviting pillows. The second before her head hit the sheets, a knock sounded on the door. She stifled a groan, pressing her face into the pillow, and waited.

  Another knock echoed through the room.

  “Sophie!” Katie called through the door. “You aren't still sleeping. Please tell me you aren't still sleeping.”

  Heaving her reluctant body from the bed, Sophie padded across the room and pulled her door open.

  “Hi,” she said, rubbing at her eyes.

  “Are you kidding me?” Katie exploded with her hands on her hips and her eyes blazing. “It's almost noon!”

  “Not for me,” Sophie grumbled. “I'm still on Nova Scotia time. It's before dawn in my brain.”

  “You've been here for days, get used to it already.”

  The harsh tone in Katie's voice did not permeate Sophie's skin like her mother’s would have and she only smiled, pulling the door open further and stepping back to allow her sister to sidle into the room.

  “I swear, if you sleep through my wedding-”

  “Don't worry,” she interrupted. “I just didn't sleep well last night. Your wedding will be perfect.”

  Katie's face broke into a wide grin and she clapped her hands together. Her eyes lost focus as though she were looking into some far off place – a place that was not open to invitation.

  “It will be perfect,” she said in a high voice, “just like it should be.”

  Katie perused the room, rifling through Sophie's few belongings, as Sophie quickly showered and dressed. She was pulling a comb through her dark hair when Katie joined her in the bathroom. She held up a battered picture.

  “Why do you carry this around?” she asked.

  Blood rushed to her face as the familiar image met her eyes. It was the same photograph she had clutched for weeks after the death of her uncle, and still carried with her for comfort. The thought of her sister’s scrutiny made her blood run hot. She turned back to her reflection, hoping to avoid Katie's presumptuous glare.

  “I don't know,” she ans
wered, waiting to be sure that her voice would come out steady before she spoke. “It's comforting.”

  “Hm,” Katie shrugged, looking at the picture again. “I don't understand why you liked him so much. I mean, he was a nice guy, but he was weird.”

  “He was not weird,” Sophie replied, instantly regretting her sharp tone. “I mean, I know some people didn't understand him, but I did.”

  “Yeah, but now he's dead.”

  The words pierced Sophie's heart like hot blades, knocking the breath from her lungs. Her teeth ground together, fighting against the fury that threatened to explode. What she wouldn't have given to unleash her fury upon her sister, to let every ounce of frustration burst forth in a single moment of freedom and release.

  Instead, she turned, forced a small smile and gingerly took the picture back.

  Katie shrugged again and made her way to the bedroom door. As she exited the room, she spoke once more without turning back.

  “Let it go, Sophie. There are more important things.”

  Chapter 4

  A soft breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees of the thick forest surrounding the Isa Caecilia. Beyond the perimeter of a sunny courtyard, a doe stepped cautiously through the underbrush, avoiding the sharp needles that pricked from every angle. Her wide ears twisted from side to side, her lithe body permanently tensed, as though sensing danger in every sound. She lowered her head for only a second, snatching a mouthful of foliage before jerking upright once more, twisting and listening.

  Behind her, only a few yards away, a figure crept silently through the shadows. Its footfalls made no sound, though the bracken underfoot was dried and stiff.

  The doe had made a slight trail through the thickness, and the figure weaved in and out of sight, following the path. At intervals, the animal would glance around as though aware of a presence, but unable to determine its location.

  As the figure lurched toward her, she burst forward in a fit of speed, barreling through the trees into the well-manicured courtyard, startling a group of women sitting around a patio table.

  “Oh, my!” A wide-set blonde spluttered, holding a hand to her heart.

  The figure stopped just inside the curtain of trees. He peered through the tangled branches, watching the women, all thought of the deer washed from his mind.

  Three blondes crowded one side of the table. On the other, a young woman with long, black hair sat facing the trees. When the deer had darted across the lawn, her body had twitched in surprise, but her arms were once again wrapped around her torso and she was staring away from the others, lost in thought.

  Catching sight of her face, the figure – hidden only by a thin veil of branches – froze. Even the soft breath that passed his lips was cut off. Had he dared to try, he could not have pulled his eyes away.

  The position of her lips, the line of her nose, it was all so familiar. Too familiar. He narrowed his eyes, leaning forward in an effort to focus. As he did, a branch shattered under the weight of his foot, sending a loud crack echoing through the wind. The sound jarred every nerve in his body as he waited for the women to turn in surprise.

  Watching the back of one blonde head, he held his breath, fists clenched. She did not turn.

  With a heavy exhale, he crouched to the ground and shifted to the right in order to see the black-haired girl again. As her face came into view, he jolted back, a silent curse on his lips.

  Her dark eyes were fixed on him.

  No, he thought. Not on him, that was impossible. She must have heard the snap of the branch under his foot.

  Before he could contemplate further, the three blondes stood, pushing their teacups away and shifting their skirts before making for the open patio doors. The black-haired girl sat for a moment, watching the area he had occupied a moment ago, before rising to her feet. He watched as she stepped slowly to the doors, the others having already disappeared inside, and placed a hand on the door-frame. After a slight pause, she turned her head to look over her shoulder.

  He froze again, though he was now deep enough in shadow that there was no possibility of her seeing his form. Something in her gaze unsettled him.

  After a moment, she turned and disappeared through the doors, leaving nothing but sunlight and silence behind her.

  Sophie stood on the wide stone veranda, watching as a tall, graying man stepped from her father's truck. Streaks of silver ran through his hair from temple to ear, contrasting sharply with the dark brown surrounding it. His toned arms bulged under the tight cotton of his shirt, a smile stretched wide on his tanned face and perfectly straight teeth glistened in the afternoon sun. It was plain to see why Brian Hunter had struck her sister's fancy.

  “Brian!” Carol chimed, running forward to embrace him. Katie had stepped forward initially, but her mother made no apology for stealing the first contact.

  “Mrs. Iris,” Brian smiled down at the slim woman. Though Carol stood at least five inches taller than Sophie, he towered over her. “It's wonderful to see you again.”

  Tim sauntered around the front of the vehicle, running a hand over its glossy black hood.

  “Here's your betrothed, daughter,” he said in a deep voice, bowing low and motioning toward Katie. “Safe and sound, as promised.”

  Katie screeched with laughter, running toward Brian. He stood with arms outstretched, and Carol was forced to step aside with a sour look on her face. Wrapping his arms around Katie's waist, he lifted her in the air and laughed heartily.

  “Hello, my darling,” he said, his eyes filled with happiness. “I've missed you.”

  Aunt Marilyn cleared her throat expectantly, and Katie swung around with a look of apology on her face.

  “Oh,” she said, grasping Brian's hand in both of hers. “Brian, this is my Aunt Marilyn.”

  “Hello,” Brian said, extending his free hand toward Aunt Marilyn, who took it eagerly and shook it, keeping her eyes locked on his handsome face.

  “So very nice to meet you,” she said, her voice somewhat higher than usual.

  By then, Sophie had made her way down the stairs, though still maintaining a comfortable distance. Katie made no move to introduce her, but Brian caught a glimpse of her over Aunt Marilyn's shoulder. Looking first at Katie, who turned to her mother, he took a step forward and smiled in Sophie's direction.

  “You must be Sophie,” he said, extending his hand once more for Sophie to take.

  She did, reluctantly, and smiled in response.

  “Nice to meet you,” was all she said.

  After unloading Brian's luggage, the couple led the way into the castle. Katie talked incessantly, clinging to her fiancé’s arm. Carol and Tim trailed them in silence. With nothing planned for the remainder of the afternoon and Katie absorbed in Brian's attention, Carol demanded that the family break up.

  “For a breather,” she said, but Sophie knew better. The lack of enthusiasm in Brian's greeting had left her bitter and disappointed, and she pitied her father. She knew the next few hours would be torturous for him.

  “I think I'll take a short rest,” Aunt Marilyn said to Sophie when they were alone in the hall outside their adjoining rooms. “You'll be okay on your own?”

  “Sure,” she replied, waving her aunt in the direction of her room. “Go relax. I'd like to wander a bit anyway.”

  With a smile, Aunt Marilyn retreated into her room. Sophie watched until the door had clicked shut and the lock sounded before heading in the opposite direction. She made her way down a flight of stairs and through the foyer before choosing a route she had not yet travelled. A tall archway welcomed her into a narrow hall. Dim light bounced from hanging mirrors, brightening her way.

  Many of the halls and rooms she travelled through had the same brass light fixtures, from tiny candle-shaped sconces to huge chandeliers hanging from high ceilings. She quickly became lost in the ancient details of the decor, absorbing as much as she could while she walked, and paying no attention to where she was headed. An open expanse of sitting room
led her to a wide corridor. Tall wooden doors opened into a high-ceilinged conservatory, and opposite them stood a floor to ceiling stone mural.

  She entered the conservatory, drawn to it by the bright sunlight falling through the walls of windows. Potted trees, shrubs and flowers greeted her, creating wide paths throughout the room. The room felt like an extension of the garden outside, giving the illusion of openness, and the musky fragrance of foliage engulfed her. She inhaled deeply, brushing her hand against the leaves of a nearby tree, feeling moisture under her fingertips.

  Near the far windows, a small seating area had been arranged in a tight half-circle, positioned so that the view beyond was not obscured.

  Sophie sat in one of the chairs, blissfully aware of the relaxing rush of a small fountain somewhere unseen, when a break in the wall near the corner caught her eye. Craning her neck, she squinted through the leaves of a large potted tree. The space seemed no larger than a few inches, but dim sunlight filtered through from behind. A large shrub had been crammed right up to it, blocking the lower half of the crack with its billowing branches, but was not tall enough to conceal it entirely.

  Out of curiosity, she rose and approached it, keeping her eyes locked on the light coming from behind. As she neared, she realized that the opening was larger than it had appeared from afar. Her whole body would fit through if she squeezed in sideways.

  Shifting the branches and placing her hands on either side of the crack, Sophie leaned forward and peered through. The first few steps of a spiral stairway were visible beyond, and the sunlight seemed to pour in from above, further up from the few stairs she could see.

  A rustle behind her made her jump and she turned, stepping away from the wall, tucking her hands behind her as if trying to protect the open space. There was no one to be seen, but the leaves trembled on the thin tree near the entrance, as though they had been shifted by a breeze.

  She waited for a breath before returning her attention to the space in the wall. Leaving no time to second guess her actions, she turned her body and pressed through the tight space. It did not take much effort, as she was fairly thin, but the narrowness of the crack made her feel claustrophobic. Once through, her eyes adjusted quickly to the dim light, but the lingering dust in the air made them burn and itch.