The Maid of Chateau Winslow

by Pippa J Frost

  “I trust our prisoner is awake?” I recognized the voice of the dwarf from the pavilion before he came into view. The small legion of creatures attending him resembled the sentinels stationed by me.

  One of my captors let out a rasping call, and the dwarf smiled. “Good.” He lifted a hand, and a floating bridge expanded and granted him and two of his attendants passage. He stopped before me, garbed in black robes and furs, regarding me with glassy eyes sunken in blue-tinged sockets. Around his neck hung a golden eagle medallion with a dull amber gem embedded in its center. He tilted his head, ropes of his hair swinging, the wind of their movement fanning my face. “By the sound of your rapid breathing, I can assume you are scared.”

  “What do you want with me?” I asked, my voice hoarse.

  He laughed. “Why, to bleed the power that courses through your veins.”

  He twisted as the beasts on the other side of the river parted to reveal a middle-aged dwarf dressed in rags. She edged forward, slowly at first, until a creature shoved her from behind. She regained her balance and moved more quickly. As she drew near, I saw the leather pouch she carried with trembling hands.

  “Don’t dally,” the dwarf said.

  Fear clogged my throat. “Please, don’t do this. I’m not this Reinheit you speak of. I’ve never had magic of any sort.”

  “Don’t fret, my little pet.” I cringed as the dwarf stroked my hair as a parent would a child. “Soon your blood will spill, and when you’ve taken your last breath, your soul will be mine.”

  I don’t want to die. My heart threatened to batter my ribcage. I wanted to scream for help, but I had no one to call on. Lord Winslow, the children, Mrs. Potts, Yara—none of them were tangible. The barrier between reality and fantasy had crashed around me, and I’d fallen into a world of necromancy.

  “Why do you seek this power?” I asked, needing to understand the nightmare I couldn’t wake from since the day in the meadow.

  “Death will soon claim you. I suppose there is no threat in disclosing what will transpire when you are gone.” He lifted the medallion and caressed it with admiration. “This holds the Vormact power, an energy that dates back to ancient Rome. It was fashioned by Roman senators. The Roman Empire unleashed brutality, terror, and tyranny, and its leaders were driven by greed and belief in their superiority. At his victory at the Battle of the Trebia, Hannibal, a Carthaginian military commander, acquired this supreme power during the pillaging. The Vormact never returned to the Romans. Its last known whereabouts was somewhere in the Totholz forest. I’ve gone to great lengths to obtain the means to reawaken its ability, and you, my pet, are one facet of the plan.”

  The threads of my sanity frayed with this insight, stripping me of the normalcy and security I’d known in a world free of magic and creatures—a world I’d considered flawed but less complicated. I was forever changed because I couldn’t unsee what I had seen. Tears blotted out the faces towering over me, and I jerked when cold hands touched my arm.

  “I need room to work,” the woman said.

  The dwarf gripped her arm and placed his mouth to her ear. “Don’t try anything, or your flesh and that of your kin will bubble and melt from your skeletons in the depths of what sprawls before you.” As he breathed his threat, the elongated, shadowy heads of fire ghouls rose from the pool, their gaping mouths stretching wider as they groaned with desire.

  The dwarf and his entourage stood back to observe as the woman unrolled the pouch, revealing various sizes of gleaming blades. Fern-green eyes brimming with pity and fear held mine. The straining muscles in my neck relaxed, and I lay my head back against the stone and watched her. “Forgive me,” she whispered. “Take a deep breath, and it will be over before you know it.”

  I nodded, squeezed my eyes shut, and inhaled. Wincing as the blade parted my flesh, I kept my eyes closed, unwilling to look upon the world I’d been plunged into. Tears cascaded down my cheeks and dampened my neck. Warmth trailed along my arm as the blood left my body. Today I would die. The faces of Mutter, Nisse, and Flicker flashed before me, and a vast love surged. I would never feel the touch of Nisse’s lips on mine and never again observe the glint of mischievousness in Flicker’s eyes. A wail rose in my chest, and my lips parted. The walls of the cave heard my lament.

  And energy erupted within me.

  My eyes flew open as my body arched, and the marble trembled and fractured beneath me. The threads of the ropes confining me unraveled.

  “Magnificent!” the dwarf’s voice thundered. “The Reinheit is strong in her.”

  “Sire, the wound—it heals,” a raspy voice said.

  I twisted my head to look and found no blemish marring my arm.

  “Impossible. She isn’t trained. How can she hold such strength?” The dwarf lurched forward and clutched my arm. His long, grotesque fingernails crumbled into dust against my flesh. He snatched back his hand as if scorched, and his mouth hung open. “Bring chains and fetch the Seelenfresser, now!” He lifted a hand, and a purple aura burst from his fingertips and pinned me back, bleeding the tears from my eyes.

  Nisse

  Ahead of me, Lord Winslow sat stiff and alert, scouring the terrain as we wove our mounts along the mountain path.

  “Do you see anything familiar?” I asked.

  “I need to get my bearings. The forest has grown since I was last here,” he said over his shoulder.

  Rocks skidded beneath my mount’s hooves. “Steady boy.” I stroked his neck. The horse had been my companion on many journeys and battlefields, but today he seemed skittish, his ears twitching with alertness. My hands were white-knuckled on the reins, and my eyes burned with weariness as we pushed deeper into the forbidden territory of the dwarf kingdoms.

  Overhead, the bloated gray sky churned and seethed with the threat of more rain. “If we don’t find the access soon, we will be forced to seek cover until this storm passes,” I said.

  After Lord Winslow had told me about what was happening, I’d spent the days leading up to our departure from Liverpool and then the voyage back worrying that Valentina and her family had fallen prey to King Gian. Each passing moment became grueling and unbearable. The return to Schläfrigz had been a crippling blow: ten more lives had been lost in my absence. It appeared the Seelenfresser’s taste had evolved, and only the young would satisfy his cravings.

  Lord Winslow and I had ridden to Chateau Winslow. The estate sat in abandoned decrepitude, as I remembered it. I felt confused and disheartened, but that had receded when his lordship pointed at the many sets of horse tracks leading from the forest to the pavilion. The grass had been uprooted under the treads of an army. Someone had come to the estate, but for what purpose, we did not know. We set out to find out.

  Some hours ago, we’d lost their trail. We ventured farther into the mountains, relying merely on Lord Winslow’s memory.

  He lifted a hand, signaling me to stop. “Listen—do you hear that?”

  “Sounds like a legion,” I said.

  “Do you suppose it’s the ones from the estate?”

  “Perhaps. Let’s check it out.” Heeling my mount, I guided him forward until I spotted the dwarf army through the trees. I urged my horse into the shelter of the forest and dismounted. Lord Winslow, light on his feet, dropped to the ground beside me. As the regiment drew closer, I observed the ginger-haired general riding next to a striking fellow who sat tall and proud upon his steed.

  “That’s Prince Sixtus from the mountain tribes,” Lord Winslow said. “And that is General Crispian.”

  Behind them rode an older dwarf with a full beard and an ample stomach, who looked like he would teeter over with a shift in the wind. Beside him on a black stallion rode a woman cloaked in a red hooded cape with gleaming white tresses that cascaded over her chest and stopped at her waistline.

  “It appears they are prepared for a battle,” Lord Winslow said. “But against who?”

  “And what is a human doing with them?”

  “Your question
is my own.”

  “Do you recognize her?” I asked.

  “No.”

  “Well, I’m not about to stand around and waste more time. If what the villagers say is true, King Jörg is an honorable man, and I will take my chances with him.” I swung onto the back of my horse. “Let’s not repeat the mistakes of the past, and address him straightaway. Shall we?”

  Lord Winslow shook his head. “And lose our heads in the process.” But without hesitation, he mounted his mare. We guided our horses into the open.

  Seeing us, the general held up a gloved hand. “Halt,” he said, and the clang of armor and thudding of horses’ hooves ceased. “Who goes there?”

  “We come in peace,” I said.

  “Peace,” Prince Sixtus said. “Humans are forbidden to enter these mountains.”

  “We need to speak to King Jörg about matters concerning King Gian and the disappearance of a woman from the village,” I said.

  The prince stiffened in his saddle. “What is the woman’s name?”

  “Valentina Fürst.”

  His eyes narrowed. “What do you want with the woman?”

  “She is my ward of sorts,” I said. “I’ve spent most of my life looking out for her.”

  “Nisse,” a woman’s voice said, and I looked to the human.

  My brow furrowed. “Do I know you?”

  She urged her mount forward, and the king grabbed her arm to stop her. “It will be all right,” she said. He released his hold, and she closed the distance between us before reining her horse to a halt and lowering her hood. I beheld the majestic woman with pale, glimmering skin whose mauve eyes held mine in a tender gaze. “It has been a long time,” she said.

  “Do I know you?” I asked again.

  “You used to,” she said with a soft smile. “I am Piera Fürst.”

  I tensed. “I assure you, you’re not. And I’ve had my fill of trickery.” I looked at the king. “Your Majesty, we come seeking your help. It’s urgent. And treaty or no treaty, what is at stake was worth the risk.”

  The king’s knights parted to give him passage, and he joined the woman. “Speak freely.”

  Not looking to waste any more time, I reiterated what I knew, and Lord Winslow inserted his knowledge when needed.

  “We too seek Valentina’s whereabouts,” Prince Sixtus said, sizing up Lord Winslow.

  “We fear my daughter is in grave danger,” the woman said.

  “Enough!” I glared at her. “You aren’t who you claim.”

  “I assure you, I am.” To prove her claim, she spoke of the day Orell had scarred my face and the day I’d carried Valentina into the cottage after she’d fallen from the tree.

  “How do you know these things?” I asked.

  She went on to explain her past and the power embedded in her by the traveler. As she revealed the identity of the Seelenfresser, I seethed. Orell had murdered my vater, and with this newfound knowledge, I wanted to rip his throat out.

  “If your son is the Seelenfresser, then that would make your daughter the Reinheit,” Lord Winslow said.

  The woman nodded. “And King Gian will stop at nothing to destroy my children to raise the Vormacht.”

  Could it all be true? Was Valentina the one they called the Reinheit? “I—”

  I fell silent as the earth trembled beneath us, and a harrowing scream sent birds scattering.

  “She bleeds,” the Träger moaned in a tattered voice. She craned her neck in the direction of the bloodcurdling. “We must hurry.”

  Valentina

  The dwarf’s face contorted as he struggled to constrain the entity warring to breathe life within me. His bewilderment at the force’s power was minuscule in comparison to my own. What was happening to me? His hold weakened, and my right hand burst from its bonds. Hope surged, but it receded as a sentry sprang forward to deter me.

  No. Panic erupted, but as if some invisible force had filled the cave the creature’s knees buckled and he went down.

  “Stop her,” the dwarf said as the ropes shredded on my other wrist.

  I sat up and scoured the cave’s shadows for the liberator of my bonds but found no one. Witchery had manifested itself. But from whom? Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two wardens skulking toward me. Stay back, I opened my mouth to say, but they too dropped to their knees. My heart pounded, and I gawked in astonishment. It wasn’t possible, was it? I looked at the bonds imprisoning my legs. Let go. The ropes frayed before my eyes. I glanced at the dwarf woman, who had fallen back as everything unfolded. She stood quivering. My soul cried for her protection from the evil we had plummeted into. Run. Don’t look back.

  As if hearing my thoughts, she nodded, lowered her head, and bolted past the dwarf. I concentrated on her retreat. The beasts closed in to impede her. No. Stop. The creatures froze in mid-motion, hands outstretched.

  A newfound awareness shook me—an invisible force thrived within me, manipulating my mind to fight against the dwarf’s sorcery. The authority controlling my mind and body terrified me, but I lacked the mastery and knowledge to reject it. Unlike the dwarf’s magic, the entity fusing with me silently presented itself without any demonstration of palpable energy.

  Bouncing to my feet with foreign agility, I gulped back the nerves clenching my throat and inched toward the dwarf, seeking my escape before it was too late. Please let this work.

  I’d walked a few steps when the earth shuddered, and a roar erupted. The pain that had racked my skull most of my life returned, and I clutched the sides of my head. “No.” I fought against the incapacitating pain as the colossal form of the Seelenfresser plodded from the shadows of a tunnel on the far side of the lava river. Blazing amber eyes focused on me as he stomped and snorted like a bull ready to charge. As he’d done in the meadow, he arched back his massive head and raged at the cave’s colossal dome. Again I had an epiphany: the witchery that had altered my brother had ignited in me.

  The eerie dark aura encircling the dwarf intensified at the arrival of my brother. As it had withstood the dwarf, the entity governing me revolted against the Seelenfresser. But with every roar, my brother drained the energy of the force.

  “She’s weakening. Grab her now!” the dwarf said.

  Claws snatched at my arm and broke the flesh. I heard the hiss of my captor’s every breath as it yanked me backward onto the cold marble slab. Chains rattled, and I sobbed. Soon I lay stretched out like a sacrificial lamb, the chains cutting off the circulation in my limbs.

  The dwarf approached and stood beside me. “I will bleed you myself.” He held out a hand, and the blade lying on the cavern floor appeared within his fingers.

  “Why are you doing this?” The bones in my body throbbed with the Seelenfresser’s continuous howls.

  Blade in hand, the dwarf said, “I can’t allow you to nurture your power. You and your brother were connected from birth because of a fool king’s desire to rid his tribesmen of the Zwilling. I bled this Earth of twins to extract the power. But the Zwilling had outwitted us all for hundreds of years, and I underestimated it. After I found the power and set it free, it denied me what was rightfully mine and hid in a human—your mutter. But its deception and brilliance weren’t to be ignored, because not only did it make her a carrier, it jeopardized its rise by splitting and implanting itself in babes born years apart. It aimed to seed the earth with a human lineage of Zwilling. There is but one power known to suppress the Zwilling, and that is the Vormact. It has taken me decades to arrive at this day.” A sinister grin twisted his scarred face as he placed the dagger on my wrist. “Rest, my pet.”

  The blade slashed my wrist. I screamed and blood gushed from the wound. A tendril of gleaming energy rose from my chest, moving through the air as if summoned by the medallion dangling around the dwarf’s neck.

  “Gian.” A familiar voice ricocheted throughout the cave. “Stand down.”

  Lord Winslow? I twisted my head to locate the owner of the voice. Dwarves and humans emerged from a tunne
l on the opposite bank from the Seelenfresser. Although fog shrouded my brain, I recognized the two dwarves who had watched over me. After them came a man. At first glance, he was the spitting image of Lord Winslow, but different in some way.

  Behind him came a face that seized my heart. Nisse. He’d come. Fury and fear darkened his face as he scanned the cave.

  My eyelids grew heavy. I glimpsed a beautiful woman with glowing purple eyes and white tresses, which glimmered as though woven from the stars. The dwarf beside me cried out, “The Träger.” For the first time, I noted fear in his voice. Everything was becoming muffled. I closed my eyes. I wanted to sleep, just for a moment.

  “Fight, Valentina. You must fight,” a woman said. The passion in her voice pulled at me, but it was smothered in a growing commotion. Open your eyes. You must wake. I tried to call on the energy as I had earlier, but it had dimmed. It was dying.

  Gentle hands touched my arm. “Don’t you die on me,” Nisse’s husky voice said. The chains rattled as he attempted to release me. He hadn’t abandoned me. Love swelled in my chest.

  The weight of the chains holding my wrists fell away, and the entity flickered. I opened my eyes to find Nisse leaning over me. He moved to free my legs. The Seelenfresser’s howls had faded. My blood pooled and stained the ground, but I stared at my wounded wrist as the flesh fused. I heard the clang of swords and harsh war cries as armored dwarves clashed with the sentries. In my peripheral vision, I saw the raven-haired dwarf who had been my guardian fighting with the dwarf who’d attempted to kill me.

  Across the cave the woman stood with her hands raised, flashes of blue energy blazing from her fingertips to envelop my brother. He struggled to stay upright, legs trembling, his arms outstretched, straining to snatch her. She stood firm and unbending against his power as her own power imprisoned him in a transparent, energized dome that muffled his cries.