The Impaled Bride

by Rhiannon Frater

  “Your father wants to speak to both of you as soon as possible in his study. He seems... distraught.”

  “We will be there shortly,” I reply.

  With a nod, she pivots about and hurries to deliver my response to Balázs.

  “Brush your hair and let me tighten your lacings,” I say to Ágota. “You do not look at all respectable.”

  Running her long fingers through her wild mane, she avoids my reach. “Dress yourself and hurry. Father’s probably upset over the letter he received from the count demanding your hand in marriage. Ugh! This is entirely my fault.”

  With those words, Ágota slips out of my room.

  I bathe and dress as rapidly as I can while Valentini sunbathes in the window. My maids come to help me with my hair and lacing. Wearing my hair down, but with the sides braided and pinned into buns, I feel like a countess already. My favorite green cotton gown with long sleeves and a slight train whispers against the stone floor as I hurry from my room and through the castle to Balázs’s study.

  I rap on the door and it immediately opens to reveal Ágota slumped in a chair and Balázs pacing.

  “Erzsébet, I apologize for summoning you here before you have had a chance to eat, but we need to discuss the letter I received from Wirich. It was delivered this morning by a...” Balázs frowns and looks at Ágota for clarification.

  “Kobold. He was very small and smiled far too wide. Had quite a lot of teeth,” Ágota answers.

  “So this was no ordinary correspondence,” I say.

  “Not at all. I suspect The White Woman of the Wood is behind this development. The letter is written in Wirich’s hand, but the tone is more imperious than usual.” Balázs settles his big hands on my shoulders and peers down at me. “Erzsébet, he wishes for you to travel to Gratz immediately so you can marry into his family.”

  “I see,” I reply.

  Despite my attempt not to sound ecstatic, my joy leaks into my tone.

  Ágota sniffs. “Impatient, the whole lot of them.”

  “Honestly, I am surprised I was able to delay for as long as I have. Nobility is not known for patience.” Balázs sighs, dropping his hands from my shoulders before returning to pacing. “I had hoped to delay a few more years. The coven needs you here, Erzsebet.”

  “Are you certain you need a battlewitch?” I ask. “The spell Ágota cast to bring forth this estate was very effective. As far as anyone remembers, we have always been here. We are accepted by our neighbors, the village, and merchants in Buda. You wear your real face once again, as do the rest of the coven. This is a good, safe place.”

  “This world may never be a good, safe place for us, Erzsébet,” Balázs answers with a cynical expression.

  “As far as the court of King Charles remembers, you are a loyal landowner. You are safe,” I insist.

  “Except for the other, larger portion of the coven and Fülöp,” Ágota reminds me.

  “Do you really believe they would leave the safe haven they stole from us and attack us? Especially when they absolutely comprehend your power?” I toss a doubtful and dismissive look at Ágota.

  My sister widens her eyes at me, determined to win our argument. “Once they know the battlewitch is not here, they might risk coming against me. Fülöp is a bitter man and he knows I do not like to kill.”

  “This world changed him,” Balázs mutters.

  “Why are you telling me all of this when you know I have no choice other than to travel to Gratz?” I glower at them, irate at their gloominess over what I consider rather good news.

  Ágota tilts her head to regard her father. “Father, you need to tell her.”

  “Tell me what?”

  “The coven cannot afford to have you so far away without any sort of contingency, Erzsébet. Therefore, I have asked Ágota to delve even deeper into the coven archives and prepare one of our more dangerous spells.”

  I immediately bristle at the thought of my sister endangering herself. “If it is going to hurt her like the last one could have—”

  “The risks are different, yet dire,” Ágota says, interrupting my next tirade. “Instead of opening a portal between two worlds, I will be creating a bridge between two points in this one. I might get lost in between the two points if I do not perform the spell correctly.”

  “I do not approve!”

  “Erzsébet, we have no choice. We need to be able to summon you to us when needed. The coven needs you,” Balázs says gently.

  Fury fills my chest. “My life is not the coven! We have all known this since before my magic manifested. I will soon be Countess Dolingen of Gratz. That is my destiny. It is also my choice!”

  “I told you she would throw a tantrum,” Ágota says with a sigh.

  Balázs stills in his pacing and turns to regard me with a look of frustration upon his handsome face. “Erzsébet, as a battlewitch, you are important to this coven.”

  “The coven was fine before my ascension,” I retort.

  Towering over me in an attempt to intimidate me, he says, “Our numbers are what gave us power. Now our coven is diminished. You know we struggle to harness the magic of this world, Erzsébet.”

  “Ágota is the Archwitch that can wield the magic of this world. Fülöp would never come against her. Never! There is no reason to place Ágota in harm’s way to open a pathway between Gratz and here. Are we not supposed to pretend to be mortal? We should travel by horse and carriage and not risk Ágota.”

  “I am sorry, Erzsébet, but Ágota will open the pathway to Gratz. I would think you would be happy to see your sister every New Moon for the High Rituals.”

  “You cannot put my sister at risk—”

  Balázs interrupts me. “That is what we do, Erzsébet! Those with power sometimes have to risk themselves to protect the weaker. The three witches in this room are the most powerful known to this world. Do not pretend you do not enjoy the magic you wield. That power is coupled with the sacred duty to protect the lesser witches. This is the way it has always been.”

  “Then why risk Ágota? She is needed! She is the Archwitch!”

  Ágota lowers her eyes. “The pathway is important, Erjy. I have to open it. To not open it will mean your death.”

  “You are lying,” I say, aghast at this proclamation.

  “No, I am not. I am certain of it. I must perform the ritual and open the pathway, or I will lose you.” My sister says the words calmly, yet her eyes brim with tears. Lashing out, she grips my wrist with her long fingers. “Let Father prattle on about the protection of the coven, but we both know I will always protect you first.”

  Ágota’s magic seeps through her fingertips into flesh and her voice forms in my mind to say, There is darkness on the horizon, Erjy. It is coming for you, and I must stop it.

  Chapter 21

  As the spell draws me ever closer to that fateful day when all was revealed, I am comforted by the memories of what came before. Those were precious moments, more precious than I realized at the time. I was loved, cared for, and safe in the arms of a family and coven. How I long for those days before my life was consumed in darkness!

  Those lovely moments flutter past me, my mind grasping at them desperately. I wish to relive them all, but I am a slave to the spell.

  One truth stands out starkly in these recollections. I doomed myself. I was maddeningly innocent, recklessly in love, arrogant in my abilities, and too strong-willed to listen to those wiser than I.

  Ah, I was so young and foolish!

  I see it plainly in these lost memories.

  I observe myself preparing for a life far from the coven while ignoring Ágota’s declaration that darkness stalks me. I rebuff her worries and concentrate solely on my upcoming marriage. I had forgotten so many moments such as Ágota regarding all of the planning with a scowl and refusing to help. The spell draws me faster through the days, my glimpses of my past disappearing in a blink of an eye. I hear my voice demanding to know what secrets my sister is hiding from me and
her refusing to answer.

  “Why, Ágota, why?” I call out

  And then the spell ceases to spin me about in my own memories to leave me standing outside Ágota’s bedroom door. As always, my mind is subsumed by the younger aspect of me. I listen to my internal thoughts, eavesdropping on my worries of another time.

  I am reconsidering my actions. I do not want to fight with Ágota. I love her with all my heart, but I am also lost without her support. I crave her approval in every endeavor I embark upon—from learning how to ride a horse, to cooking Balázs’s favorite pie. It is quite evident she is unhappy about my approaching marriage, but I crave her approval. I do not understand why she cannot be happy for me since I am finally becoming the noblewoman she saw in her portents.

  I raise my hand to knock, hesitate, and ponder once again if this is the right course of action.

  The door is flung open and Ágota stands before me in a black chemise, her hair wild about her face, and a smirk on her lips. “Was she too loud?” Ágota inquires. “I told her to stop screaming.”

  Peering beyond my sister, I observe Marianna, one of the youngest of the coven, hurriedly pulling on her dress. Blonde hair tumbling around her flushed face, my sister’s newest conquest casts a sheepish smile in my direction.

  “Actually, I did not hear her. Perhaps she was not as loud as you believe,” I say, grinning impishly.

  “Oh, no. She was loud. Were you not?” Ágota sets a hand on her cocked hip and gives the other woman a sultry look.

  “Please do not tell anyone. This is the first time I ever dared do this,” Marianna says to me while hopping on one foot while pulling on a slipper.

  “But not the last,” Ágota replies.

  “We shall see,” Marianna mutters, sliding past my sister, but from the pleased expression on her face I am certain she will return to my sister’s bed.

  Watching the witch disappear down the hallway, I cross my arms and wonder at my sister’s abilities. “Do you spell them?”

  She waves me into the room. “With my seductive ways, yes. With magic, no. I am insulted you would believe such a thing of me.”

  “Isn’t Marianna in love with that tall, daft landowner who lives a few miles from here?”

  Ágota shrugs. “Maybe. Why should I care? She is in my bed, not his.”

  Whereas I am the hopeless romantic pining for a boy I haven’t seen in years, Ágota could care less about romance. When she finds a particular girl attractive and compelling, she lets it be known in her roguish, charming way that she desires her in her bed. I suspect she is rarely turned away.

  “Are you intent on seducing all the women in the world?”

  Slamming her bedroom door shut, Ágota tilts her head in a thoughtful manner. “I am willing to try as long as they are not related by blood, do not have a despicable nature, or are hideously ugly.”

  “So you do have standards,” I tease.

  With a playful snarl, she sits in a chair set near her desk. “This from the girl who has loved only one boy and plans to marry him.”

  “My fate was chosen for me when I was young. I am merely fulfilling my destiny.”

  “So you do not love him after all.”

  “Albrecht is my love. I will never love another,” I vow with the arrogance of youth.

  “Yes, you will,” Ágota grumbles, flicking her long fingers at me so sparkles of magic fill the air. “I can see it.”

  “No, I will not.” I bestow her with an arrogant smile. “You are wrong. Albrecht is my great love.”

  Leaning toward me, Ágota fastens her glimmering green eyes on me in a way that makes me uneasy. Her magic swirls around me before dissipating. I sense she is withholding something from me. “Erjy, you might believe that to be true at this moment, but time will change so much. Which is why I am doing all of this. For you.” Waving her hand toward the top of the table, she slumps down in her chair. “I will always protect you, even if you resist.”

  The surface is littered with parchment paper. Curious, I move closer to scrutinize what she has been doing all these days while locked away. The arcane symbols, illustrations, and mathematics confound me, but I piece together bits and pieces of what she is attempting.

  My sister regards me with a stare that is a bit intimidating.

  “Do you understand any of it, Erjy?”

  “These are for the gateway you wish to create.”

  With a nod, she leans one elbow on the desk and leans her head against her closed fist.

  “I already told you and Balázs it is not necessary!” I glower at her, furious that they are so insistent on controlling my life.

  With a grunt, she folds her arms across her bosom and returns my glare. “I do not wish to argue with you again, Erjy. You know why I must establish this doorway.”

  “You once admitted that you see all different versions of my future dependent on the choices I make. I am about to be a noblewoman, which is one of the good futures you predicted.”

  “That path has grown dark. If I do not open this portal, you may die!”

  “Yet you cannot tell me the possible manner of my death,” I say, scoffing at her.

  With a hiss, Ágota looks away from me. “No, though I have tried every spell possible to unveil all possibilities.”

  Often she disappears for hours into her room clutching my mother’s book of spells. Sometimes she vanishes for the entire day into the surrounding woods only to return disheveled and carrying my mother’s bag. While I have been obsessed with preparing for my new life, she has been equally obsessed with saving mine.

  “Did it ever occur to you that I will naturally die before you, Ágota? I am half-mortal. We may have hidden the truth from your father, but we cannot hide it from fate. One day I will die, probably long before you, and it will be in my home in Gratz. Maybe that is what you saw in your portent.”

  “You cannot say that with any certainty, Erjy! You are half-witch. And that half is truly powerful. You may have our long lifespan, which means your death could be by more nefarious means!”

  “Yet, you cannot say for certain. These are your fears speaking because of what happened to—”

  “Do not mention our mother!”

  “Why else would you be so afraid? Do you see other futures for me other than the ones that end in death?”

  “Yes, but...” Ágota crosses her arms over her breasts, frowning. “I cannot be certain which path you are traveling. Therefore, I must protect you.”

  “I refuse to be shackled to the coven,” I retort. “I will come when I can by horse and carriage as any noblewoman would to visit her family. Henrietta is becoming more powerful and can help defend the coven should Fülöp ever be so unwise as to attack here.”

  “Why must you be so stubborn?”

  “I will not have you risking yourself for a portent you have misread! You are terribly protective of me to your own detriment.”

  Slamming her fist on the table, she rises to loom over me. “I made a sacred vow to our mother to protect you and I will! You are my sister, Erzsébet. I love you and I will keep you from all harm. Your childish stubbornness cannot prevent me from my sisterly duty.”

  “I am not childish! I am about to be a married woman!”

  “You are a child!” Ágota snarls in my face. “A stubborn child who refuses to see the truth of this world.”

  “I acknowledge that the world is a dangerous place. I have killed to protect you and the coven. I would willingly do so again! But our enemies are far from here and our lives are at peace at last. We are not shackled to the threats of our old lives. We have begun anew!”

  “New threats could reveal themselves tomorrow!”

  “I am a powerful battlewitch. I can defend myself.”

  “And what of the coven? You know I refuse to kill.”

  “I would never ask that of you.”

  “But you are by refusing the usage of the portal.”

  “You may lose yourself opening it!”

&n
bsp; “It is a risk I must take to protect this coven and you!”

  “If you create it, I will never use it!” I shout at her, my rage nearly choking me. “So do not even attempt to make it! I will not have you risking your life!”

  My emotions are complicated. A part of my argument is purely selfish. I desire to establish my own life with my beloved Albrecht far from here. I love Balázs and the coven, but I cannot always be the one to fight their battles. They survived before Ágota and I arrived on their doorstep, certainly, they can do so again. But beyond my own selfish motives is the root of fear that I will lose my sister if she attempts to create the gateway. Magic can be terrifying, and the thought of her performing a spell that could kill her just so that I may return home once a month frightens me. Even though I believe she sincerely fears for my life, I cannot allow her to risk her own when she cannot even determine the possible sources of my supposed demise.

  Ágota flings up her long hands at me and stomps about the room in a rage. “Why must you be so stubborn? You are so very much like our mother! She never listened to my warnings. I told her we needed to leave our home, but she insisted we had more time before we had to move on. You are so like her!”

  The memory of my mother’s screams as she burned haunts my dreams and sends an icy finger of dread down my spine. Ágota is not the only one who compares me to our mother. The coven does as well. There are times when I see Balázs gaze upon with me with great sadness, mourning what he has lost.

  “So are you, Ágota! You always think you are right and disregard what everyone else says! You know the creation of the gateway will be dangerous and might kill you, yet you are determined to risk yourself. The coven needs you! I need you! So does father!”

  “He agrees with me!”

  “Because he is afraid and knows you will not kill to defend the coven.”

  “Do not use my desire not to kill against me!”

  “I am the killer, not you! Ágota, you are the best of us because you want to preserve life. You have so much power, but you do not use it to elevate yourself. You use it to help others. Which is why you must not risk yourself!”

  “I love you, Erjy. Can you not see the lengths I would go to make sure you are safe? I remember when you were born and I held you in my arms. Shriveled, wet, and beautiful, you stared up at me and I named you. You are my sister. Nothing in this world will keep me from protecting you. Nothing!”