“It wasn't a date.”
“Who went on a date?” Carol asked, entering the dining room, dragging Tim by the hand behind her. “Sophie? I don't believe it.”
“Good,” Sophie said, surprised by the sudden wave of anger that accompanied her mother's entrance. “Don't.”
Tim pulled his hand from his wife's grip and sat in the chair next to Sophie.
“A date, huh, kiddo?” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “That sounds like fun. I was wondering where Marilyn had left you.”
“She left me in town with a complete stranger,” Sophie replied with a resigned sigh. She leaned back in her chair and folded her arms, once again, across her chest. “We met him at the boat rental place. He was nice enough, just wanted to know more about the castle. Seriously,” she added after seeing the look that passed between her mother and sister, “it was not a date.”
“Whatever you say,” Katie shrugged, picking at her fingernails and smiling. “You, a guy, alone all afternoon. Sounds like a date.”
“Did he know what he was getting himself into?” Carol laughed, waving a hand in Sophie's direction from across the table. “You can be a handful sometimes.”
“Now, Carol,” Tim started, but Carol shushed him.
“I was kidding, just kidding,” she laughed, rolling her eyes toward the ceiling. “No need to raise the alarm.”
Sophie untangled her arms and legs from the tense knots they had twisted into. Standing up and straightening the hem of her shirt, she smiled coldly at them before turning away without a word.
“Now you've done it,” she heard her mother hiss behind her. “She'll be sulking for a week.”
With the knowledge that she was not neglecting her sister's needs and knowing that her aunt had most likely retired to her room, Sophie made her way to the familiar courtyard, hoping to iron out the details Jude had so carefully skipped over.
The air was cooler than it had been earlier, but not cold enough to make her want to return for a sweater. The sunlight had faded to a dull orange, and she stood on the stone patio for a moment, watching the last of the brightness fade from the sky. Shadows danced across the grass, filtering through the jagged outline of the garden's edge. The coldness reached out and brushed her bare arms as she walked briskly through the damp grass, and she wrapped them around herself with a small shiver. The dim light of twilight left her much less courageous than her previous visits, and she did not venture further than a few paces beyond the line of trees.
“Lukas?” she called quietly into the darkness. “Are you here?”
As she had in her earlier visits to the woods, she felt foolish calling out his name, but could think of no other option. After a few minutes of silence she decided to turn back and try again in the light of morning.
The French doors allowed a dull yellow light to fall onto the pressed concrete patio, and she stepped into it gratefully, aware of the tingling anxiety in her limbs. Before she could reach out to turn the handle, a voice called out from behind her. She spun around, backing into the doors, expecting to see a figure as she squinted into the darkness of the yard. It was vacant, and for a moment she thought she had imagined the voice. After only a moment, Lukas called out again.
“I'm here,” he said, but did not move into view.
Sophie stepped forward, her eyes darting to every break in the trees in an effort to catch sight of a shadow or rustle.
“Where?” she called as she moved slowly across the grass. “Come out so I can see you.”
When he did not answer, she hesitated in mid-step, the silence pounding in her ears.
“Lukas?”
“I am right here.”
The anger in his voice was unexpected – though not unfamiliar – and she knew then that he was in the trees only a few feet to her left. Silence resumed while she contemplated retreating into the castle, but he spoke again, softly, before she took a step back.
“Come to your left,” he said, “I cannot come to you.”
Sophie followed his directions, stepping over the low edge of the flowerbed, trying to avoid trampling any of the carefully tended bouquets. The breeze picked up and she felt the chill creep up her bare legs and arms, along with a wave of apprehension as she moved into the shadows. Her eyes were blind in the complete darkness and she stood still for a moment, blinking the darkness away.
She listened for the crackle of footsteps or rustle of clothes that would indicate Lukas's whereabouts, but aside from the chill wind, she was surrounded by silence. Feeling her way forward, using the vague outline of trees as a guide, she stepped further into the dense woods before she heard him sigh behind her.
“Right here,” he said, and she spun to face him, thankful that he could not see the hot blush rise in her cheeks.
“You could have said so before I tried to walk blindly through all this junk,” she kicked the forest floor with her toe.
He did not respond, but she could see his form in front of her, facing her, and she took his silence as a sign to continue.
“I wanted to talk to you about something,” she said.
“That need has been increasing in frequency,” he replied, his voice quiet, “despite my efforts to keep you away.”
“How can you expect me to stay away when there is so much I want to know?” she asked. The tone in his voice was maddening, causing her to go on the defensive before she had gotten the chance to ask her questions. “Besides, I'm paying to be here and this is the castle's property, so I can be here if I want to be here.”
If she could have seen his face it may have frightened her, for the anger displayed there was unrelenting. She waited, fists clenched, for him to speak, but still he refused.
“Alright,” she hissed, unwilling to fight the frustration she felt at his silence. “I'll just talk and assume you're listening, then.”
Still he said nothing.
“Right,” she took a deep breath. “I want to know about the witch that lived in this castle. Rausch told me-”
“I thought I told you to stay away from them?” Lukas interrupted suddenly. “You haven't seen him again, have you? Do you not understand the implications of my warning?”
“Them?” Sophie repeated, “them, who? I only wanted to ask you about her.”
“Don't,” he warned, and she could see him take a step back and turn his body toward the castle. “Don't say her name.”
“I wasn't going to, I just wanted to know what happened,” she paused, “I mean, how she died.” After a moment, and seeing that Lukas was still looking in the direction of the courtyard, Sophie thought of something that made her flinch. “Are you afraid of her?”
“Afraid,” he spat the word as though the taste of it was vile on his tongue. “What do I have to be afraid of? Is there nothing more frightening to you than a spirit? For what it's worth, I was not present at her death, though I have been suffering the consequences since then. Is there a reason for your curiosity?”
Sophie let his words sink in, making an effort to remember them for future reference, before speaking again.
“Yes,” she said, “there is a reason. I was in town today and-” but she could not finish the sentence. The memory of the warmth in Jude's eyes and a twinge of fear for him appeared simultaneously in her mind. Though he had not asked her to keep his knowledge a secret, his behavior suggested she should, and she wondered if it would be safe to disclose their conversation.
“And?” Lukas pressed, turning back toward her.
“And,” Sophie said quietly, “and I was thinking about everything, but I couldn't make the pieces fit together.” The words sounded false, even to her. “Rausch told me some, but not everything.”
“I don't know everything, but I know you're in danger,” he said, stepping closer. Sophie grimaced at the familiarity of those words. “I warned you to stay away from him.”
“Rausch?” Sophie spluttered in shock. “You never said-”
“Not Rausch. Fantir. I assume Rausch
told you of him, at least?”
Sophie nodded, and then remembered the darkness and began to respond aloud when Lukas spoke again.
“I believe him to be a threat to you,” he said. “Not because I hold a grudge, but because I know what he is capable of when under her power.”
“I know what he did to you,” Sophie whispered. “Are you saying it was her? She was controlling him?”
“That is my belief,” he replied, “though some may disagree.”
“But she's not alive anymore,” she said, trying to find logic amidst the tangled rumors. “How could he be in her power now?”
“Love lives beyond death,” Lukas replied, the sadness in his voice piercing Sophie's heart. “Its power does not weaken with time. Or absence.”
Rausch's words, his description of the young lovers, came back to her and Sophie yearned to reach out a hand in comfort, but resisted the urge. He shifted his stance to lean against the nearest tree and went still.
“Rausch told me,” Sophie said after a moment, “about Annka. You loved her.”
“I do still.”
“Is she-” she hesitated, “I mean, are you alone here?”
“Yes.”
Silence resumed as the weight of his sadness pressed on them both. There was nothing to be said in comfort, and the silence grew deep. It was not until she shivered violently that Lukas looked up from the ground, seeming to become aware again of her existence.
“You're cold,” he noted.
“Slightly,” she hugged herself and stepped from one foot to the other. “But I'm not finished.”
“Not tonight,” he said, stepping nearer when she trembled again. “It's too late now. Come to me tomorrow and I'll tell you what you want to know.”
“Tomorrow?” Sophie asked, her voice wobbling with the tremors that shook her body. “I guess so. I have plans for dinner, but I can meet you before that.”
“You must come here,” he said. “Meet me right here.”
“When?”
“Whenever you can.”
“But I-” Sophie began to protest but Lukas threw up his hands and sighed in frustration.
“You have found me every other time, have you not? That was not coincidence, Sophie. Just come when you can, plan to be away for a time and I will tell you. Now, go.”
Without another word, Lukas stepped past her and sauntered away, his form disappearing into the black only a few strides from where she stood. Not needing a second dismissal, Sophie jogged to the edge of the trees and hopped through the flowerbed, making her way across the courtyard into the warmth and safety of the castle.
Not safety, she reminded herself silently. But at least it's warm.
Thursday morning dawned cloudy and grey, but Sophie's spirits were high as she hopped out of bed before seven o'clock. Showered, dressed and ready, she was in the breakfast hall before nine, alone and content as she munched her pastry and gazed at the overcast sky in the distance. It was her hope to eat without being seen in order to sneak away to the forest during the morning hours, when the rest of her family and the few scattered guests would still be preparing for their day.
With a final swig of orange juice and swipe of the napkin, she bounded from her chair and through the halls, silently praying that no one would meet her as she went. With a sigh of relief, she reached the French doors, pulling them open and stepping into the dewy haze of the courtyard.
The air was brisk as she tiptoed across the rain-glazed grass, crossing between the flowerbeds and into the shelter of the trees. As she stepped through the brush, the smell of wet moss met her nose and she grimaced, missing the fresh scent of wet grass and leaves outside the wall of trees. Coming to a stop just short of a line of low shrubs, Sophie glanced around before speaking.
“Luk-” she began, jumping violently when a hand rested on her shoulder. When she spun around, hands over her heart, her breath came in a loud rush as she looked up into his smirking face with wide eyes.
“Don't do that!” she exclaimed, reaching out a hand and pushing his shoulder without thinking.
He looked down to where she had touched him, his eyes narrowed. For a moment, she felt afraid, and then he looked back at her and cocked an eyebrow.
“Let’s go.”
He led her through the trees, his pace quick enough to keep him a few paces ahead. She noticed that he did not hold the branches away as Jude had done and thought ahead to their meeting that evening. When traces of excitement began to bubble in her stomach, she pushed the thoughts aside and focused on her surroundings, hoping to avoid a stumble into the wet mush of trampled leaves and grass that swelled around her feet.
When enough time had passed that Sophie was beginning to wonder where he was leading her, they stepped through an opening in the trees and she saw the outline of the small cottage she had stumbled upon during her first trip into the woods.
“Is this where you live?” she asked when Lukas made his way to the front door. “I've been here before.”
“I know you have,” he said, motioning for her to enter in front of him. “I was here.”
“It was you?” she turned to look at him as he shut the door. “But, you were out there,” she pointed back the way they had come. “You grabbed me in the woods. How could you have been here and there?”
“I wasn't. I followed you.”
“I was running.”
“Yes.”
“I… it…” Sophie stammered, waving her hands in small circles as she tried to form words. Lukas smiled at her confusion and pulled out a chair at the small table. The room was as it had been when she had entered it days prior, but the atmosphere had changed significantly. The last time she had entered that space, it had been shrouded by fear. Now it was as though she was seeing it with a clear mind. It was almost welcoming, in a minimalist way.
“Sit,” he said and Sophie obeyed. “There are more important things to discuss, if you haven't forgotten.”
The curtness in his voice was surprising, though Sophie was becoming used to his mood swings. He folded his arms across his chest, leaning back into the wooden chair, his gaze locked on her face. Seconds ticked by as she tried to organize her thoughts, shuffling through the clutter in her mind, prioritizing information.
“I'll start, shall I?” Lukas asked, leaning his head back and gazing at the ceiling. “You want to know how she died.”
“Yes, I do.”
“She was a witch,” he explained, his voice still sharp and cold. “In this town and in those days, when a witch was caught, even without proof, it was burned. They say nothing can destroy the spirit of one who encompasses the art of witchcraft but flames. I suppose, in light of your experiences, they were wrong.”
He paused for a moment, closing his eyes. The information was not entirely news to Sophie, but she did not speak. Lukas opened his eyes with a sigh and continued.
“She was discovered in the spring of 1860, captured and bound by members of the church. It was as though they were hunting wolves, they were so armed, but she did not struggle. I watched as they bound her wrists and ankles and pulled her from the castle like a dog. Nothing will ever omit that memory from my mind.
“Though I was glad to see her go, I cannot say I enjoyed watching her abused. What she did, she did out of love. Right or wrong, to deny the power behind it is foolish. We were left alone after that. Rausch, Fantir and I remained in the castle. An-” he faltered slightly, “Annka was away. Isa had passed the year prior. No other servants had been permitted to reside there since Fantir – how should I put it – lost his mind.”
“He wouldn't let anyone work?” Sophie asked, watching Lukas's body language as he became progressively lost in his own words. The tense anger so familiar to her by then was fading. Now, his shoulders sagged and his head tipped forward as if he were exhausted.
“No one. Many of the rooms fell into ruin, but he was not concerned. Isa's death had taken its toll and he was vulnerable to every one of the witch's advances
. Even I was not permitted in the castle during the daylight hours. The others were at his mercy,” he stopped and sighed, glancing up at Sophie as he ran his hands through his hair.
“What could you have done?” she asked, seeing the guilt burning in his eyes as he spoke. “Rausch told me about the way he treated you. He hated you because she loved you.”
“Yes. But she hated Annka through him. In the hours when she needed me most, I was absent. I was a coward.”
With no idea of what to say, Sophie reached out a hand and touched his arm, letting the contact linger. His eyes traced down her arm, pausing on her fingers. Her heart fluttered as she watched his hand move toward hers, stuttering to a stop when his skin made contact. He stroked the length of her hand gently, seizing her wrist in his hand and pulling her grip away. When her heart sank, Sophie was shocked at her disappointment. She pulled her hand back, rubbing the sting of the contact from her palm and keeping her gaze on the floor beneath her feet. She did not look up as he began to speak again.
“It was late in the afternoon when they burned her. Over a week had passed since her capture. I was working, as always, grooming the perimeter of the forest that surrounds the castle. I had no desire to witness it, as so many others did. Rumor spread quickly and many of the surrounding settlements had travelled to partake in the ritual. Fantir and Rausch stayed away, as well, but Annka would not be held back. I could not understand her wicked desire,” he pounded a fist on the table, “but she was determined to watch it, even in light of my protests. The desire was foreign to me, for I wished nothing but haste to the entire affair. I suppose she wanted to see justice done for the suffering brought upon us all.”
“Did she tell you about it, after?” Sophie asked.
To her surprise, Lukas's face clouded over in shadow and his eyes narrowed. His lips curved into a spiteful smirk and she could feel the rage surging in waves from his tense muscles. The hard chair she was sitting on suddenly felt much too close to him and she leaned as far back as was possible. Nothing but the sound of the soft breeze hovered in the small room and her discomfort grew as she avoided the glare locked on her face.
Ashes of Iris Page 14
