The Maid of Chateau Winslow

by Pippa J Frost

  Spring had come to the valley, and wildflowers speckled the hillsides the day I walked into the tavern, feeling depleted, my mind riddled with turmoil.

  “What can I get you?” the tavern owner asked as I dropped onto a stool at the counter. “Although I ain’t sure I got enough to heal what ails ya.”

  “Ale. And keep them coming,” I said.

  As he sauntered away, my eyes swept over the place and halted on two earthmen sitting at a table in the corner with their eyes trained on me. I returned their gaze, and they busied themselves with a newspaper spread on the table in front of them. With my suspicions still on my mind, I strolled toward them. The clicking of my boots on the plank floor warned the earthmen of my approach. The gray-bearded fellow leaned in and whispered to his mate.

  “Something I can help you with, gentlemen?” I cast a glance at the newspaper heading, which read Victims of the Teufel on the Rise.

  “What is it with you humans? Always thinking we are up to something. Can’t a couple of mates enjoy a drink?” the older of the pair asked.

  “Why are you scouting me out?” I asked.

  He leaned forward, and anxiety shadowed his countenance. “What is your interest in the old Winslow place?”

  I bristled inside but kept my composure. “I’m looking for someone.”

  “No one has lived there in years. Not since the Winslows—”

  “Yes, I know. The same story I’ve been told for months.” I restrained my building impatience. “Any chance you know much of the family?”

  “Not much, except Lord Winslow showed up here with a young wife heavy with child. Pretty little thing. They were very much in love, from what I recall. He was a collector of sorts. After his wife died, he returned to England with his daughters.”

  “Collector of what?” I asked. Bodies? My imagination raced with images of his lordship in the cellar of his home, wielding black magic. The rumors surrounding the death of his firstborn and wife came to mind. Had he returned to England? Perhaps he was responsible for the deaths of his family and the bodies piling up. My thoughts veered to Mary Shelley’s character, Victor Frankenstein, the Swiss student who wanted to mimic the power of the gods by creating an anomaly made of corpses.

  “Artifacts that have no business being in human hands.” The dwarf with a pox-scarred face spoke for the first time.

  I raised a brow. “Care to explain yourself?”

  The older dwarf silenced his mate with a stony glare from his deep-set eyes. “He tinkered with relics containing metaphysical energies. Artifacts belonging to our forefathers that have no place in the inadequate hands of the humans.”

  “Am I to believe there was bad blood between the earthmen clans and Lord Winslow?” I asked.

  “I warn you, mister, you stay away from the estate. The place is cursed, and you’re no match for what is out there.” He jumped down from his seat, and his mate followed. They waddled through the tables and out the back door.

  Mystified by the new information, I returned to my seat as the tavern owner placed a mug of ale before me. “Friends of yours?” He nudged his head at the empty table the earthmen had occupied.

  “Never saw them before. They come in here often?” I lifted the mug and guzzled back several gulps.

  “In recent months, with the hunting parties coming and going, I’ve had a slew of earthmen in here. Can’t recall them all,” he said. “Looks like you haven’t slept in weeks. Your vater was a good man, and we miss him too.”

  “Much appreciated,” I said.

  He set another mug before me. “What’s on your mind besides what has got us all on edge?”

  “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.” I stared at the foam seeping over the rim and trickling down the side.

  “Give me a go. You never know.”

  I reiterated Valentina’s claim and my findings, and by the time I’d finished, he stepped back with his thick arms crossed, looking befuddled. “See, I told you there’s no sense to any of it,” I said.

  He rinsed a mug and picked up a cloth to wipe it. “No more sense than this creature carrying us off one by one.”

  “We are sitting prey, ripe for the plucking,” I said. “Do you remember much about the Fürst family?”

  “I grew up with Timo. A right looker, he was. A shrewd fellow that gained his fortune and lost it just as quick. Then he went off to Italy and got himself married and brought Piera back here. Never knew what she saw in him. Became one of his victims, I suspect. Had a way about him that could fool you into believing he was a man of integrity—he could charm the leeriest of folks. Biggest fraud to wander these parts. Too bad he set his sights on Piera. Poor soul dedicated her life to trying to make up for his wrongdoings.

  “Then, when Timo moved her to the country after it was rumored he had to sell their home to cover his debts to the mining dwarves, she became pregnant with that abomination, Orell. The boy has caused nothing but chaos since he came into this world. Watching him and his sister after Timo and Piera disappeared was like their parents had been reincarnated. The oddest thing was what happened to Piera when she became pregnant with the bastard.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “Piera was a stunning woman. But during her pregnancy, she stopped coming to the village. Then, one day, I stopped by the homestead to deliver the kegs Timo had purchased. She greeted me at the door, and I stumbled back in shock at her condition. She was nothing but a rack of bones. It was as though the fetus had sucked the life from her. Her eyes were sunken into their sockets, and her once luminous locks were all scraggly and thin. Her hands were bandaged with cloths that seeped blood. Yet her stomach swelled with a babe of seven months or so. But it was her behavior that I remember after all these years.”

  “Well, out with it!” I slammed my mug down, impatient with anxiety.

  “Fear,” he said.

  “Of you?”

  “No, I’d always been good to her. And she knew I didn’t mean her any harm. I asked her that day if Timo was withholding food from her, and she pulled her shawl tighter around herself as if she was unaware of the shock her appearance would cause. She said the pregnancy had taken its toll on her. Although she played it off as trifling, the look in her eyes told me she was scared. Downright terrified.”

  “If Timo isolated her in the country, maybe she worried about delivering a babe without a midwife or another woman for miles,” I said.

  “It was more than that. She looked like a walking corpse,” he said.

  I tried to sort the clutter of information. “But she lived, and managed to give birth again.”

  “See, that is where it gets bizarre. When she was pregnant with the girl, Piera blossomed, as most women do when they are with child. I met her in the street, and she told me she felt better than she ever had.”

  I swiped a hand over my face, my mind spinning with confusion. “I think the dwarves know more than they are letting on. They appease us by joining our hunt for the monster, but I’ve studied them and how they gather together and speak on things they feel we’re incompetent to address.”

  He wiped the counter with a cloth. “What makes you say that?”

  “Because a friend of mine, a dwarf, made mention of a Seelenfresser. A creature that feeds on souls. Yet the earthmen trudging through the forest and countryside with us have never made mention of it.”

  He straightened, his gaze probing. “Have you questioned your friend further?”

  “No, he seems to have vanished too.”

  “That leaves you with one option.” He slung the cloth over his shoulder.

  “State your meaning.”

  “The answers you seek may be in England.”

  “But I can’t leave the valley when there is so much apprehension,” I said.

  He nodded. “With the amped-up attempts of the council to protect the villagers, access in and out is restricted. Word has spread of the beast that terrorizes our valley, and shipments are being delayed. I, for one, am not
looking to have my soul sucked out. You ain’t doing anyone any good here. If you’ve managed to get outside the gates twice already, you may be able to do it again. Get yourself on a ship and go get the answers we all seek.”

  Moments later, I stepped out onto the boardwalk and glanced around my beloved home. I needed answers, and scouring the woodlands for a creature we had never seen was squandered time. If I were to assist the village, my time was better spent elsewhere. I’d journey to England to inquire of Lord Winslow’s whereabouts in hopes of gaining insight into what was at stake. Only then would I be of service to my village.

  Valentina

  Spring had come, and the Alps’ tears cascaded down the mountainside, causing floods in the valley. Melting snow dripped steadily from the roof tiles and droplets splashed on the windowsills. The curtains in half-cocked windows in the library ruffled in the breeze, chasing away the stale air of the winter months.

  The Winslows had left for the afternoon, and with the servants awarded the day off in the family’s absence, quiet encompassed the estate. I strolled the floor of the library. Book-lined shelves extended to the ceiling and I regarded them in wonder, trailing my fingers over the bindings with care, afraid they would evaporate into powder at any moment. I removed one from the shelf and flipped through pages dense with text and maps. A hunger to learn kindled in me. My studies had terminated with the loss of my mutter, and responsibilities at the farm had consumed my time. Nonno had provided Mutter with the best education, and like the Winslow children, she had a private tutor. Mutter and Vater couldn’t afford a tutor for us, so she took it upon herself to educate Orell and me. I thrived under her tutorship, but Orell protested, and when he turned eleven, Vater permitted him to resign from his studies to work alongside him in the fields.

  “Valentina.”

  I shifted to the reedy servant tasked with managing the household while Mrs. Potts was away with the family on their outing. “What is it?”

  “There’s an odd little fellow in the foyer who says he’s a friend of yours,” she said, finishing with an inquisitive lilt. “He says his name is Flicker.”

  My nerves hummed. What was he doing here? “Thank you.” I strolled past her and down the corridor to the foyer. Flicker stood with his hat in his hands, inspecting the crumbling plaster of the ceiling.

  “There you are,” he said. “It appears there’s still a fair amount of work required to get the place in order. But it’s coming along. Lord Winslow has outdone himself.”

  “Shh!” I glanced over my shoulder before marching to the door and swinging it open. Gesturing for him to follow, I stepped outside. “Let’s take a walk, shall we?” I said when he joined me.

  After we reached the forest, I slowed my pace. “What are you doing here?”

  He leveled a scowl on me. “Checking on you, of course. With it being Sunday and all, I figured you’d have part of the day off for a little visit with a friend.” He brightened.

  “How do you suppose I’m to explain having acquaintances here when I’ve only left the estate once in the months since I came here?”

  “I noticed fresh carriage tracks on the main road, coming from here. Did a little spying, and the place seemed lifeless.”

  “And you’re lucky it was,” I said.

  He postured. “I see nothing to worry about.”

  “I mean it. You mustn’t show up without me telling you it’s safe.”

  He grunted and waved a hand in defeat. “Fine. As you say. Now, are we going to enjoy our time together, or will you continue to scold me like one of your wards?”

  I linked my arm with his. “I’m thrilled to see you.”

  He bent, picked an alpine snowbell, and held it out to me. When I elevated an eyebrow, he grinned and said, “A peace offering.”

  “Charming and clever.” I shook my head and tucked the flower in the waistband of my apron.

  We bantered back and forth, and the tension of his arrival vanished and my heart lightened in his company. All came to a halt when an earth-shattering howl permeated the air and I dropped to my knees, clutching the sides of my head. Pain ripped through my skull, and the blood coursing through my veins burned like fire. Flicker gripped my shoulders. My eyesight blurred, and tears spilled as my body convulsed with agonizing pain. Help me! Please!

  Then the misery withdrew, and I gasped and sagged against Flicker. He rocked back but steadied himself and draped his arms around me. His words were muffled by the ringing in my ears. When the world stopped spinning, my hearing and vision cleared.

  “W-what was that?” I said, my voice quavering.

  His heart thundered against my ear. “I don’t know.” Fear echoed in his voice.

  My strength returned, and I clambered to my feet and glanced in the direction the scream had come from.

  “Don’t even think of it.” He grabbed my arm.

  The thrashing of my heart hammered in my ears, and I swung to look at him. “Did you not see what just happened?”

  He swallowed hard and stared at the forest over my shoulder. “You aren’t safe.”

  The agonized cry rose again and my knees buckled, but Flicker dashed forward to catch me. I clutched the sides of my head. I couldn’t breathe. No, no. Make it stop. The force of the wail paralyzed my body, but as the scream silenced the pain retreated. I clambered to my feet, pushed away from Flicker, and trotted farther into the forest.

  “Are you crazy?” He clutched my hand.

  I pulled my hand free and raced on as I regained control of my senses. I had to find where the noise came from before it struck again.

  Flicker jogged after me. “Valentina, stop. You mustn’t go near it.”

  The scream cut through the forest, and birds fled in panic. I clung to a tree trunk to stay upright and pressed my forehead against the bark as I fought through the agony. What is happening? Terror clawed at my throat.

  The cry released me from its grip, and I gasped air into my lungs. I bent to rest my hands on my knees as I struggled to catch my breath. I eyed Flicker, who stood gawking into the woods, his face drained of color.

  I continued on, Flicker trailing.

  The trees parted to reveal a meadow. I stood at the tree line and scoured it for movement until my gaze halted at the edge of the forest to our left. Cold fear settled in my core as I gaped at a dark form writhing on the ground. A massive humanoid hand with long talons stabbed at the heavens, followed by a colossal head with a white mane as the creature rose. It was as tall as the surrounding trees. It staggered, and the earth trembled under my feet. Amber eyes blazed, and it arched back, its mouth unhinged, exposing glistening ivory fangs as it threw back its head and vented its rage.

  I covered my ears and planted my feet as I fought against the intense pain that blurred my vision. I lost all sense of reality, slipping between what was real and the stories of my youth. The cry ended, and my vision cleared. Trapped in a realm between reality and dreams, I rubbed my eyes to remove the illusions. But the beast remained.

  It fell to its knees, and its mass began to shrink. The creature transformed into a man before my eyes. His blond locks shielded his face as he rose to his feet, naked and trembling. He hesitated, as if getting his bearings, then swiveled to gaze at us.

  Orell? I lurched back in horror and disbelief. My brother stared at me as though not truly seeing me. Then he spun and scampered into the forest. I fell to the earth, sobbing. No, no, no. It couldn’t be real.

  Flicker pulled me against him as sobs racked my body, offering hushed words of comfort. “Valentina, you must listen to me.” He pulled back and looked me hard in the eye. “We can’t stay here.”

  “What is happening?” I grabbed fistfuls of his shirt, and he winced and struggled against my attack.

  “You must calm down. I can’t hold on much longer,” he said through gritted teeth.

  I rocked back on my knees and gawked at him as my brain reeled in confusion.

  “There is a lot you must know, but it mustn�
��t come from me,” he said.

  “What is it? You know. Tell me.” I lunged forward. He put his hands up to shield himself, and I froze in mid-movement, dumbfounded by his reaction. “Flicker?” Tears tattered my voice. “I’m not like him. I’m not capable of harming anyone.”

  He lowered his hands, and a solemnness that was foreign to him altered his expression. “It has awakened.”

  “What?” I asked.

  “The power within you.”

  “Power? What power?” I said, on the brink of hysteria.

  He pushed to his feet and held out a hand. “Let’s get back.”

  My mind raced. “What are you keeping from me? You’re supposed to be my friend, and we promised to never lie to each other.”

  He winced. “I am your friend. And I’m begging you to trust me.” He grabbed my hand and yanked me around and darted back the way we had come.

  Wake up, you must wake up, my mind screamed. Branches whipped my face and chest, but the numbness dominating my body and mind made them seem like windblown hairs brushing my face. We bolted across the grounds, then up the stairs to the main door before Flicker paused and looked over his shoulder. He threw open the door and shoved me inside.

  “Flicker?” I twisted and gripped his shirt, holding onto the one person that I trusted with all of my being.

  “Stay here and don’t come out. I must check the grounds.” He slammed the door.

  I charged at the door and pulled on the knob. It wouldn’t open. “Flicker, open this door at once.” I pounded on the door.

  “Valentina, what seems to be the trouble?” I jumped at the sound of Lord Winslow’s voice and whirled around to find him and Mrs. Potts staring at me in amazement.

  “When did you get back?” I asked. Expecting their bodies to contort and change into creatures I conjured in my mind, I looked around for an escape route. Fresh tears spilled as my panic rose. Their voices closed in on me.

  “It is all right. You have nothing to fear,” Lord Winslow said.