The words startled Sophie and she narrowed her eyes. Aunt Marilyn saw her expression and waved a hand through the air.
“Oh, I don't mean truly seeing. I mean in dreams. Always the same type of dream. We are in this castle, but it's very dark. He's leading me away. He wants me to follow, but I can't. I can't follow him.”
Her voice trailed to a stop. The look of sadness on her face, and the way she twisted the napkin in her lap with shaky breaths was heartbreaking to watch.
“You know,” Sophie said finally, giving her head a shake, “I think this castle is messing with our heads. Maybe we need to take a day trip. Get out of here for a while.”
Aunt Marilyn cocked one eyebrow, but did not object, as Sophie thought she might.
“Where should we go?” she asked instead. “We could take a boat out on the lake. Maybe head across to Hartt to do some shopping?”
“Sure,” Sophie answered, “that sounds like fun.”
“Of course, we will have to check with Carol first,” Aunt Marilyn tilted her head toward the doors. “We wouldn't want to be scolded for running out on Katie's plans.”
“There are enough people here now to handle everything,” Sophie said. “I don't think they would miss us.”
They settled on heading out early the next morning. There was a small pier in town where they could borrow a rowboat and cross the lake to the town of Hartt on the opposite side. Despite her frayed emotions, Sophie felt a shred of excitement at the thought of getting out. She had not left the castle grounds since the day they had arrived, and with everything that had happened since then, she knew the time away would be helpful.
The rest of that morning passed in a blur. Katie rallied every available person to help her, and the main rooms of the castle were bustling with activity. Just before lunch, she summoned each of her family members and wedding party to the reception hall, standing in front of the head table with her hands clasped in front of her as if she were preparing to deliver a speech.
“Hi everyone,” she said, her voice uncharacteristically formal. “As you know, the remainder of my guests will be arriving on Thursday. That leaves us, like, one day to get ready. I'm sorry if I've been a little bitchy, but I'm totally stressed. So if you could all pull your weight for the next twenty-four hours, I so think this would be a lot easier on me.”
“You are absolutely right, honey,” Carol said, rushing forwards to embrace her daughter. “You have had all of this placed on your shoulders. Listen up, everyone. We all need to smarten up and start doing our share for this wedding.”
“Aren't they appreciative,” Aunt Marilyn whispered in Sophie's ear, sarcasm dripping from her voice. Sophie shook her head in response, holding her hands stiff by her side. As she listened to her mother and sister talk, she had to admit they were acting more like spoiled children than grown women.
“So,” Katie was saying, “if you don't mind, I would love a little help.”
Nods and murmurs of agreement ran through the small group. Sophie was itching to escape, eager for the chance to break away and find Rausch. She did not get her chance until after two o'clock that afternoon, when the bride and her maids had gone into town and Carol had coerced her husband to take a walk in one of the gardens.
As she pulled her bedroom door shut on her way out, Sophie surprised herself by knocking on her aunt's door without an ounce of hesitation.
“Hold on,” Aunt Marilyn called from behind the door.
“What am I doing?” Sophie hissed under her breath. She considered hurrying away and ignoring the urge to bring another unknowing soul into the mess she had found herself, but the door opened before she had taken more than two steps.
“Sophie?” Aunt Marilyn asked, poking her head into the hall. “What do you need, dear?”
“I, um, was wondering,” Sophie ran a hand through her hair. “Did you want to come with me?”
“Where are we going?” Without a second thought, Aunt Marilyn stepped out of her room and pulled her door shut.
“I'm just in the mood to wander,” Sophie answered, shooting a glance at her aunt as they walked. “You know me.”
“Yes, I do. And what you are is a snoop, Sophie Iris.”
Aunt Marilyn chuckled and Sophie shrugged lightly. They wandered through the halls, chatting lightly. A voice in her mind continued to nag at her to let Aunt Marilyn in on her secret, but she ignored it. Despite her deep admiration for her aunt, there was no way of predicting how she might react or what she might say. If Sophie thought hard about it, she didn't even know how she was reacting to it. The past two days had flown by in such a blur that she hadn't even sat to ponder what was happening or who she had met. The fear had settled to a dull ache in her stomach, and even the slightest thought of the forest beyond the castle walls sent her heart pounding.
She had not even contemplated that it could possibly be a lie.
Whatever Rausch had told her, which was not much, may or may not have been true. There was no way to validate his story. Despite the strange occurrences and the feeling of fright that haunted her in the darkness, Sophie had no proof.
An idea struck her then, and she looked eagerly at Aunt Marilyn. If she dared go through with her sudden urge, it would mean dragging her aunt into the middle of something that she could not explain. Her current situation, though relatively quiet so far, could potentially become dangerous. Why else would she have been warned to be cautious? Regardless, she knew she had to try.
Aunt Marilyn hadn't noticed Sophie's mood swings. She was busy perusing each painting they passed with great interest.
“Do you know what these must be worth?” she exclaimed, holding up her hands, gesturing toward the artwork. “I have a good mind to bet these are all originals.”
“Mmmhmm,” Sophie murmured. She did not look at the pictures, but watched her aunt with conflicting emotions.
“Oh, I wish I could have been there when these were painted,” Aunt Marilyn was saying. “Can you imagine what it must have been like, then? So long ago. The world certainly has changed since those days, hasn't it? My word, look at this one!”
A large portrait of a woman in yellow caught her attention and she hobbled over to it, holding one hand to her mouth as she stared. The woman was young, Sophie's age, and her face, though not beautiful in the typical sense, held something interesting and unique in its features. Wide, bright eyes peered out at them from underneath thick eyebrows. Strawberry blonde hair fell in thick waves around her shoulders, framing her ivory skinned face and neck. Her lips were full and pink, curving up just a twitch at the corners to provide the viewer with some semblance of a smile.
“She is beautiful,” Aunt Marilyn whispered through her fingers.
Sophie looked at her aunt before turning her gaze back to the woman, cocking her head to the side in an effort to discover the source of her beauty. Something in her posture, perhaps her delicate structure or pale skin, was captivating. Her eyes were mesmerizing, blue as sapphires but their depths rivaled the deepest ocean. If she had had the time, Sophie could have spent the rest of the day simply looking at her.
“Do you see what I mean now?” Aunt Marilyn asked, dropping her hand and turning to Sophie. “To have known her,” she gestured to the painting, “to have seen her in her living days. She had charisma, believe-you-me.”
With narrowed eyes, Sophie watched her aunt and pondered. Perhaps she had judged her harshly. Perhaps Aunt Marilyn would be able to handle some of the burden. Her mind was made up, then, and she inched her aunt away from the paintings with some effort.
I am so selfish, Sophie thought, slowly leading her aunt toward the front entrance.
“Where are we going now, my dear Watson?” Aunt Marilyn teased. “You sure are antsy this afternoon. What's on your mind, Sophie? I know you have been wanting to tell me. You can't hide anything from your old aunt, don't you know?”
“No. I know,” Sophie replied. “There is something, sort of.”
“Sort of?” Aunt Marilyn laughed.
“How can there be something, sort of?”
“It's complicated,” Sophie muttered. “Can I show you something? It might help me explain.”
Entering the main hall, she steered her aunt past the front doors toward the wide staircase. She bypassed the stairs exactly as Rausch had done, seeking the camouflaged door in the far corner. Laying her hand on the knob, Sophie turned to her aunt.
“Are we allowed in there?” Aunt Marilyn asked. Sophie had expected her aunt to be skeptical, but her voice was high, excited.
“Technically,” Sophie answered with a smile, “maybe.”
“Good enough for me,” Aunt Marilyn answered and motioned for Sophie to open the door. It did not creak as she pulled it toward her and they slipped inside without a sound.
The light was as it had been when she had walked there with Rausch, but something about her present company made it much less ominous. The walls did not seem quite so narrow, the air much less thick.
As though they both knew it would be foolish, they did not speak, making no sound at all – even their footsteps brushed silently across the floors. Time passed quickly and before she knew it, Sophie was leading Aunt Marilyn through the tiny hall that would bring them to Rausch's room. Upon reaching the door, she paused.
“I should have explained before we got here,” she whispered. Aunt Marilyn had to lean forward to hear her words. “This is someone's room, but I don't know if he is here or not.”
“He?” Aunt Marilyn hissed, eyeing Sophie with surprise.
“No,” Sophie answered, understanding the inflection. “Not like that. It's just… I need to see if you can see him.”
Without waiting for Aunt Marilyn's response, Sophie knocked quietly and pushed the door open.
The room appeared to be the same, down to the last faded book, but something had changed. Sophie took a step forward with building unease, and surveyed the entire space. Everything was in its place, but the feeling of warmth had vanished. Instead, Sophie felt a cold disturbance. The further she went, the stronger it became.
“Sophie,” Aunt Marilyn said from behind her, “I don't like it here.” Her voice was shaky and Sophie saw, upon turning around, that her aunt had not crossed the doorway. Her wide, frightened eyes were locked on Sophie's face and she pleaded silently to leave.
“I,” Sophie started, but a sudden intuition surged in her and she knew she had made the wrong choice in bringing her aunt there.
A chill crept through the room, penetrating her clothing and coating her skin with cold.
“Oh, my,” Aunt Marilyn whispered. “It is freezing in here.”
Sophie nodded and rushed forward, a sudden sense of being followed seized her; it was the same sensation she had felt in the tower room, of being pushed by unseen hands. She hastened to the doorway, terrified that someone, something, was about to lay its grip on her. Almost falling over the threshold, she followed Aunt Marilyn's thick form as she waddled through the narrow hall and turned to head back to the entrance.
It was not until they were both safely outside the hidden door that she turned to Sophie. Breath heaving and eyes narrowed, Aunt Marilyn placed her hands on her hips and scowled at her niece.
“What, in the name of Sam, was that?”
“It,” Sophie huffed, bending forwards with her hands on her knees. “It wasn't like that before.”
“Who did you think would be in there?” Aunt Marilyn asked. “And what did you mean, you wanted to know if I could see him?”
“There's an old man, a butler or something, he lives there. Listen, Aunt Mar, I don't know if I want to tell you. I don't know if I can. It was stupid of me to take you there.”
“Sophie,” Aunt Marilyn said softly, placing a hand on Sophie's shoulder, “you can tell me anything.”
“I know, I know,” Sophie answered. “I'm sorry for scaring you, okay?”
“I wasn't scared!” Aunt Marilyn raised her eyebrows in indignation. “If anyone was scared, it was you. You ran out of there faster than I've ever seen anyone move.”
Sophie forced a laugh.
“Whatever you say.”
As quickly as the urge had seized her, the desire to indulge her aunt in her secret passed and she was left feeling foolish – and more than a little guilty. Aunt Marilyn did not raise the subject again, and Sophie sensed that she was not interested in knowing more.
For the rest of the day, her every thought was on Rausch's room and the danger she had felt there. Something was lurking in that room, something frightening. It disturbed her that Rausch had not contacted her since the day he sent her running from there, urging her out, telling her she was not safe. She worried for his safety. Leaving Aunt Marilyn at the door to her room an hour before dinner, Sophie continued down the hall. Upon closing her own bedroom door, she trailed to the bed and sat. The sudden burst of adrenaline had led to an emotional and physical crash, making her limbs and eyes heavy.
Laying back, ignoring the thick pillows, Sophie closed her eyes and drifted almost instantly to sleep. Her final thoughts before succumbing to unconsciousness were of Rausch, and she prayed silently for his wellbeing before drifting into uneasy dreams.
Chapter 7
That evening passed slowly. Sophie had nothing but her own company to amuse her and she was too distracted to attempt to stifle the boredom. She sat in the dining room, in a chair at the furthest end of the long table, with her chin resting in her hands. Thoughts of her uncle and Lukas alternated in waves causing her emotions to run hot and cold in exhausting intervals.
The thick, lace tablecloth hung over her knees. She could feel it scratching against her bare skin as her feet bobbed anxiously. Since Lukas's convoluted warning about the man she had met in the kitchen, her nerves had been on edge and she could not stop looking over her shoulder, jumping at every sound. It was as though the anxiety she always carried with her had tripled in intensity, though she could hardly say it was with good reason. A shred of doubt still lingered in the back of her mind.
Katie flounced into the room just as Sophie was debating turning in for the night. Her appearance made the decision much easier.
“Have you seen Natalie?” Katie asked, sweeping into the chair next to Sophie.
“Nope,” Sophie answered. “I was just going to go to bed.”
“Bed? It's nine-thirty. That's a little sad.” Katie's voice was high as she pulled her hair into a ponytail at the base of her neck.
Sophie smiled in response to her sister's rudeness, pushing her chair out and standing.
“Yeah, well,” she said, “there's not much to do around here.”
“For you maybe,” Katie answered. “I've got Brian for that.”
She turned up to Sophie with a curt smile and laughed. With wide eyes, Sophie watched her sister for a moment before turning to leave.
“Wait,” Katie called, raising a hand. “I need you to do something for me.”
“Katie, I-”
“Come on!” Katie whined. “Didn't you listen to a word I said before? I need your help, for god's sake. Like I want to be organizing this wedding by myself.”
“You're not by yourself, Kate,” Sophie muttered. Her sister's voice was grating. “What do you need?”
“Make sure someone has swept the floors of the reception room,” Katie yawned, “the girls and I were practicing with the confetti.”
Sophie turned without responding and strode from the room as Katie laughed drunkenly behind her.
Before she reached the double doors at the end of the hall, a faint rustle and whisper reached her ears. She froze on the spot, her hands automatically clenching into fists, and listened carefully, barely daring to breathe. The rustling was coming from a low door on her left, a room she had not entered since being in the castle. Stepping to the side, Sophie pressed herself against the wall next to the door. Voices were conversing in hushed tones, unaware of her presence.
“You know you want to, baby,” a female voice purred.
Sophie's eyebr
ows shot up and she covered her mouth with one hand. There was something familiar about that voice.
“What is the matter with you?” a man growled. The gasp that escaped Sophie was only slightly stifled by her hand and she squeezed her eyes shut, expecting the door to come flying open at any moment. Had she been less surprised, she would have fled the scene.
“Not that I'm surprised,” Brian whispered as Sophie listened further, breathing a sigh of relief that she had not been caught eavesdropping, “but you do realize I'm getting married, to your friend.”
“Screw her,” the female hissed. “Or better yet, screw me.”
“Stop,” Brian's voice was quiet, at first, but grew in intensity as he continued to make the same demand. “I said, stop!”
“Are you kidding me?” the woman hissed violently. It was then that Sophie recognized the voice. “You think she can satisfy you? You've never been satisfied, baby, until you've been with me. You're going to pass that up?”
Natalie, Sophie thought, I guess Holly was right about you, after all.
At that moment, the door burst open and Brian came barreling through, face reddened and eyes wide. His body jolted in shock when he saw Sophie and he shot a look at Natalie, who was coming through the door behind him with a look of fury on her face.
“S-Sophie,” he stammered. “This isn't what it looks like.”
Sophie nodded. Natalie shot a look of disgust at her and sniffed.
“You're damn right it is,” she said. “What are you, some kind of pervert? Or did your perfect little sister send you to spy?”
Brian was breathing heavily, shaking his head and staring at Sophie with pleading eyes.
“If I were you,” Sophie said quietly, surprised by her bravery. “I would choose your victim a little more carefully next time. Or maybe try a little stealth.”
“Excuse me?” Natalie spat, taking a step forward. Sophie did not flinch away, the anger surging through her veins giving her a shocking amount of courage. The sensation reminded her of something, but she couldn't place it.
“Is this how you treat all of your friends?” she said, motioning to Brian. “Trying to seduce their husbands? Trying being the key word.”
Ashes of Iris Page 10
