“Your mother sounds very selfish,” he said. “Perhaps you are lucky to have not been made to endure the same traits.”
“I knew things were strained,” Sophie wiped the back of her hand across her cheek, “but I never thought,” she stopped with a sigh.
Lukas stepped away, leaning his back against a nearby tree and glanced around. The darkness was complete by then, a cool breeze still ruffling the leaves and brush, sending a flourish of unearthly tones through the air. Sophie shivered as the wind rustled through her skirt, but paid no attention to the fleeting thought of returning to the castle for warmth. As if he could read her mind, Lukas looked past her in the direction of the courtyard followed by a glance over his shoulder.
“Perhaps you should come out of the chill,” he said.
She followed when he turned away, letting him lead her through the darkness. After she had stumbled her way for a few minutes, he turned back and placed a hand under her elbow, guiding her around obstacles as though she were blind. She may as well have been, considering the blackness that surrounded her, but Lukas led her as easily as if it were broad daylight.
She lost sense of time passing, focusing only on the rustle beneath her feet and the sound of her ragged breath. He made no sound beside her, his hand applying a gentle pressure to her arm. Neither of them found any reason to speak. When she saw a faint light through the trees, her breath came easier. He led her through the overgrown yard and up to the front door, pausing briefly before pushing it open.
The light from inside pooled around them, burning her eyes as he pulled her gently through the door and closed it behind them. The comforting scent of a wood fire embraced her, soothing the pounding ache in her chest. Lukas touched her back softly, guiding her to a small sofa in the center of the room. She sat gratefully, pulling the sandals from her sore feet and wrapping her legs underneath her body. The drying tears on her face were making her skin itch, and she rubbed at them with the heel of her hands.
A moment later, the creak of a door opening to her left startled her and she turned to see a middle-aged woman emerge from one of the two bedrooms. Her body was tiny, her head would reach no higher than Sophie's shoulder, but the flaming red hair falling to her waist and her stern expression gave the impression of potency.
“Where have you been?” she spoke, unaware of Sophie's watchful eyes.
Lukas moved to a small cabinet beside the dated refrigerator and pulled a thin pad of paper from a shelf. The woman watched the paper patiently as he scrawled a few words and placed it on the table without a sound.
She moved to it, read the words quickly, and spun around to face Sophie.
“Oh,” she gasped, her hands flying up in surprise. “I'm so sorry. I didn't see you there.”
“No,” Sophie forced a smile. It felt out of place amongst her tormented emotions. “It's okay. I'm Sophie.”
She held out her hand, surprised when the woman rushed forward to seize it, grasping it with both hands and holding it tight as she spoke.
“Agatha. Aggie,” the stern look faded, replaced with a warm smile. “Aggie Hann.”
“Nice to meet you, Aggie.”
“The voice you heard,” Lukas motioned toward the beaming red-head to his right. “Changed your opinion?”
“I never had an opinion,” she retorted, gaining a confused look from Aggie. “Oh. Sorry. I was talking to-”
“Gracious!” Aggie exclaimed, spinning around to scan the room. “I forgot entirely. This must be quite strange for you. It was for me, in the beginning. I've settled into the lifestyle, though, these past years.”
“It helped that she was already strange when I found her,” Lukas muttered while scribbling another note on the pad in front of him.
Sophie gave a weak smile when he turned back to her, but she could not find the energy to laugh.
Aggie was bent over the pad, reading his words.
“I'll leave you two alone, then,” she smiled as she turned to Sophie. “You don't need a nosey old woman listening to your business.”
“You don't have to,” Sophie began but Lukas shushed her, dropping his body into a weathered armchair opposite the sofa. She gave him a puzzled look, but he did not meet her gaze, watching instead as Aggie bustled about the kitchen before returning to her room.
“You didn't have to send her away,” Sophie chided. “I liked her.”
“Yes, she is endearing, isn't she?” he said. Despite his sarcasm, she could hear a faint softness in his voice. “But you and I were in the middle of a discussion and I thought you'd want privacy.”
“I don't have much else to say. My head is pounding and I'm tired. Not sure I'm up for any more talking.”
He watched her with narrowed eyes, nodding slowly.
“Would you mind if I did the talking, then?” he asked.
Sophie's eyes widened – the question being entirely unexpected – but she nodded her head. He pursed his lips, running a hand through his hair with a sigh.
“I heard your story and it brought back my own memories,” his voice was quiet as he spoke. “I thought perhaps my mistakes could be of some use to you.”
“Mistakes?” she interrupted. “How?”
“So that you might avoid them.”
A shuddering sigh escaped Sophie’s lips and Lukas looked up at her, tearing his eyes from the thick bear-skin beneath his feet. She rubbed at her eyes with her fists, settling her body further onto the sofa, surprised by its softness. By looking at it, she would have thought it would have been solid as wood.
He stood without a word, treading silently to the door opposite Aggie's room and returned with a linen-clad pillow and soft wool afghan. Dropping both onto the sofa beside her, he returned to his chair and waited for her to get comfortable.
When she had positioned her body against the pillow and cocooned herself in the folds of the blanket, she glanced at him through reddened eyes, waiting for him to begin.
“As a small child, I was brought to this country by my parents,” he began. “I was very young. Too young to recall their faces now, too young to know my own family name, but I remember the river.”
“The river?” Sophie repeated, and he nodded.
“It runs through these woods, swift though not exceptionally deep,” he answered. “There was a bridge crossing its width. I returned there years ago, but the bridge had been destroyed. However, the memory of it remains within me. Even after all this time, I still hear the water rushing, the sound of footsteps on the rotting wood, my mother's shrill laughter as she leaned over the rail.
“It happened quickly. They both fell, I cannot tell you why, but the current took them downstream. I remained on the shore, too young to comprehend. The memory of those hours is vague, but I remember keeping close to the bridge. Time passed. Minutes, hours, days, I do not recall, but eventually they found me.”
“Your parents?” Sophie asked, relieved, for the reality of his words had stopped her breath.
The relief vanished when he shook his head.
“Not my parents,” he said. “Though they would become just that to me. Silva and Grieg Prust, a young couple hiking the woods. They found me there, beside the river. I was dirty, hungry, alone. They brought me here,” he gestured to the small cabin. “My parents never returned, though if they had, I suppose I would not have known.”
“You never found out what happened?” Sophie asked.
“Never. I searched. I searched for years for any information, a sign, a whisper of their survival, but it was in vain,” he watched her with cautious eyes. “My first mistake,” he said quietly.
“Searching for them? How could that possibly have been a mistake? They were your parents.”
“Yes, but they were gone.”
She sat back in shock at his words, shaking her head in an effort to wrap her mind around them.
“You must understand,” he said. “I wasted many years, wasted time with the ones that had saved me, loved me. It was far too late befo
re I realized my mistake. They both died with the memory of my rage, my ingratitude, and for that I will be forever haunted.”
“Lukas,” Sophie whispered. “I don't understand.”
He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees and gave her a keen look.
“I was twenty-three when Grieg passed on, twenty-six when Silva followed. It was not until I had come into my twenty-ninth year that I realized my love for Annka, and hers for me. By then, my desires had changed course. It was then I became aware of what I had wasted. The family I longed for had always been with me, but I was too absorbed in my own thoughts to realize it. The parents I searched for, the life I felt had been stolen from me, were illusions, and it was too late for me to make amends. It was too late to appreciate fully everything I had been given.”
“I'm sorry,” she said.
“Do not be sorry for me,” he said. “Take my words and remember them. Do not waste the time you have with those who love you. Do not spend your life trying to mend relationships that are not intended to be put right. Focus on what is most important, regardless of label or duty.”
Sophie thought of Aunt Marilyn and of how, despite her efforts, she had never been able to break through her niece's thick emotional walls.
She thought of her uncle, and the throbbing pain in her chest intensified, making her hunch over her knees with her eyes squeezed shut. Uncle Gus had always provided comfort for her, even during the times that she did not fully deserve his care and compassion.
She thought of Marshall, sitting on his front porch with a video game or computer, always ready with a smile and wave whenever she came near.
She thought of her father.
“I have to go,” she said suddenly, pushing herself from the couch.
Lukas raised his eyebrows and stood to follow her.
“It is past midnight,” he said, grabbing her arm as she pulled the door open. “There is no sense in wandering through the woods this late. In the morning, I will take you back.”
“No,” she pulled on the handle, but his free hand pushed against the door, making it impossible for her to open it. “Please. Didn't you just tell me-”
“I told you not to waste your time,” he interrupted. “If you go now, even if they are still awake, nothing good will come of it tonight.”
“How do you know that?” she demanded, feeling a sudden desperation.
“Because I have been here long enough to learn what a poison like alcohol does to a decent person's conscience,” he replied coldly. “You are emotional, exhausted. They are drunk. You must see how unreasonable it would be.”
“Let me out,” she whispered. His hand twitched against the door, but he did not pull it away. Anger began to course through her, obliterating the sadness with its power. “Let me out!”
Aggie's bedroom door flew open and she sped into the room, her red hair cascading behind her like a flaming waterfall.
“What's wrong?” she said, rushing to Sophie's side. Lukas watched her with narrowed eyes. “Are you alright?”
“I'm fine,” Sophie replied, the anger so palpable that she did not feel guilt at the curtness in her voice. “I want to leave.”
“Leave?” Aggie's eyes widened. “It's very late. Have you had an argument with-”
Her voice was cut off as Lukas slammed his fist into the door, the loud vibration of the solid doorframe echoing through the air. Aggie's small body jolted in surprise and she stared at the suddenly damaged door with widened eyes.
Sophie looked up at him in shock, her mouth falling open at the intensity in his eyes.
She released the handle and stepped away. He dropped his hand from her arm and folded his arms across his chest.
Aggie nodded her head.
“He is angry.”
It was not a question.
Sophie turned to her. She was looking at the door with a small smile, the shock on her face replaced with amusement.
“Ask her to leave,” Lukas said quietly, looking at Sophie. “I cannot stand her nonsense right now.”
“I won't,” Sophie replied, and Aggie glanced at her, her smile widening. “You're a hypocrite, Lukas. You tell me to be careful. You talk about your mistakes. But you still act like a spoiled child.”
The words were coming without thought, but she did not stop. Relief coursed into her body as easily as the words flowed out, one replacing the other, filling her up.
“You are always angry,” she continued. “Mean. Spiteful. You say you've learned, but you haven't. Ever since I met you, I've felt it too. The anger. It's like a disease. I have never been able to speak so angrily to my family, but now I do. It feels good in the moment but there is always guilt after, and the guilt fuels the anger.”
“Better to speak your mind than to have those around you, your own family, treat you as they would an unwanted house-pet.”
His words stung, but she did not falter.
“At what expense?” she asked. “Speaking your mind may have its places, but to ignore the effect on those around you is selfish.”
Aggie's eyes were moving from Sophie to the door, unaware that Lukas had moved to stand near the table, his back turned to them and his head bowed. Her face was slightly confused, mystified, and Sophie remembered that she was seeing and hearing what would sound like a one-sided conversation. Lukas’s responses were no more than silence to her.
She turned her eyes back to him. He was watching her, an unreadable expression on his face. Silence filled the small cottage, not even the sound of the wind penetrated the walls. As she watched them, his eyes softened, his mouth curved up in the shadow of a smile and he leaned against the table.
“Well, I believe you may have found a like-minded acquaintance, then,” he said, then eyed Aggie pointedly.
“She's right,” Sophie responded.
“Oh, are you talking about me?” Aggie's voice was high and her hands were wringing. “This is so strange. What is he saying? I wish you'd write it down, Luke. I'm sure it's the same thing he says to me when I get on him. There are times when he goes for weeks without saying a word to me.”
“Weeks,” Sophie repeated slowly, eyeing Lukas. He shrugged and, with a sigh, turned to the paper on the table.
She watched as he scrawled a few words across the page, setting the pen down carefully when he was through. Aggie moved toward the table, leaning over and reading the words. She remained silent, though more than enough time had passed for her to read the message. Lukas roamed the small kitchen.
After what seemed like hours, Sophie inched closer to the table where Aggie stood with one hand pressed against her mouth. Not waiting for an invitation, she leaned around her, straining to see the paper.
She is right. You deserve better than what I give you. I am sorry for that.
Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she re-read the words several times before glancing at Aggie. With her hand still over her mouth, Aggie turned her eyes to Sophie, the bright green sparkling with emotion. In an instant, she had thrown out her arms and wrapped them around Sophie's waist, hugging her close. Unsure of how to respond, Sophie patted her back softly.
“Ridiculous,” she heard Lukas mutter from somewhere behind her, but when she turned to look at him, his eyes were soft.
After being coerced into remaining for the night, with the promise of leaving early, Sophie returned to the couch, pulling the knit blanket and pillow into position. Aggie rushed to her side, pulling the blanket from her hands gently.
“Don't be silly,” she said, giving her a warm smile. “You don't need to sleep on this musty old thing.”
Taking her hand, she led Sophie to the small hallway. Lukas remained seated at the table, watching them with interest. Before she opened the door opposite her own room, Aggie paused.
“I'm giving her your room,” she called over her shoulder, and turned to Sophie with a grin and a wink. “I don't want to sleep on that couch either.”
“How noble of you,” Sophie heard Lukas mu
rmur, but was pulled into the small room before she had the chance to look back at him.
The room was small, barely wide enough for the double bed against the far wall. What it lacked in size, however, it made up for with light. Windows lined the outside walls, letting in a generous view of the surrounding forest. The trees were swaying in the forgotten wind, but even when she strained to hear it, Sophie could only catch a tiny rustle.
“It's so quiet,” she observed, and Aggie nodded.
“These old log homes, they block out most of the noise. Not that there is much noise to block, way in here. But it does muffle the wind, when it manages to break through these trees.”
“It must be very peaceful.”
Stepping further into the room, Sophie saw that a small desk was set up, packed high with books and scattered papers. She noticed that the papers were filled with the same hurried writing she had seen on the notepad sitting on the kitchen table.
“He spends a lot of time with these books,” Aggie mused, picking up a particularly ancient looking one and turning it over in her hands. “I should say, he used to spend a lot of time with them. Until a week ago.”
The look on her face was kind, but her words made Sophie uncomfortable. She changed the subject, asking a question that had been on her mind since the day she had overheard the woman's voice outside their cabin.
“How did all of this happen?” she asked, motioning to Aggie and then around the room. “How did you find out? They all tell me that no one has ever known of their existence after the curse was cast.”
“Now, I don't know much about that curse,” Aggie shrugged. “Our communication isn't exactly simple. But what I do know is that, until my arrival twenty-nine years ago, he was alone.”
“You came here?”
“Yes, I did,” her voice had lost some of its perkiness and Sophie watched as her eyes glazed. Whether they were filled with nostalgia or sadness, she could not be sure. “I was twenty-two years old. I was born in Ireland, though my family moved around quite a lot, dragging me with them wherever it was they wanted to go.”
Ashes of Iris Page 21
