Castle of the Wolf

by Sandra Schwab

The castle was vast. There was so much to see. Yet when they finally came across the grandfather clock, Cissy wondered why she hadn’t noticed it before. But then, it stood almost hidden in a small niche, rising up in warm honeyed tones against the cold gray stone. The afternoon sun slanted a lonely beam of light across the wood and lent it a reddish tinge.

  Entranced, Cissy stopped in her tracks. “Oh, it’s beautiful,” she breathed.

  “What?” Leopold turned to follow her gaze. “That?” He gave a laugh, then flashed his sweet dimple at her along with a broad grin. “It’s just an old clock. One of the oddities my brother loves to accumulate.”

  “Is it?” For once his dimple failed to charm her. She was much more interested in this clock, which stood taller than a man. Graceful, slim pillars framed the three levels of the timepiece—a lower compartment where the counterweights would be, a mysterious middle compartment with a curved double door, and a glass-covered upper section, which held the face, faintly yellowed with age, and a curious, dark blue half disk.

  Stepping nearer, Cissy peered up at this last element. Royal blue, with a stormcloud face to the left and a smiling sun on the right. And in the middle before them…

  Cissy blinked. “Is this a sheep?” When she didn’t get an answer she turned, and only then became aware of the tapping of Leopold’s foot on the stone tiles. Impatient? She frowned. “Sheep?” she repeated, making her voice more assertive than before.

  “Sheep? Where?” Leo looked around as if he thought a live sheep were running bleating through the castle.

  She felt her frown deepen.

  Her irritation increased. Whatever was the matter with her charming golden god? “There. On the clock.” She pointed, even though that was supposed to be unladylike.

  Leopold rolled his eyes. “Gosh, that old thing. What’s the attraction? A pile of rotting wood and an old music box which will be forever out of tune.”

  Her heart gave an excited thump against her breastbone. “There’s a music box, too?”

  He shrugged. As she continued to stare at him expectantly, he finally heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Oh, all right, it’s got something to do with gnomes, dwarves, or whatever you call the little buggers.” He pointed to the middle section of the clock. “That’s where they are.”

  “But, why is there a sheep at the top?”

  With an expression of exasperation, he threw up his arms. “How should I know? It’s probably there because the clockmaker was a loony or—”

  To their right a door was thrust open with enough force to make the hinges creak in protest. “Do you plan to raise the dead with all your screaming and shouting?” Fenris von Wolfenbach growled.

  Cissy quickly stifled a startled squeak behind her hand.

  Von Wolfenbach shot her a murderous glance. “What?" he snapped.

  Gracious, she marveled, he looked as ferocious as his namesake. His expression was angry, his hair dusty and sticking up in odd tufts as if he had repeatedly run his hands through it. A thin trace of black ink marred the corner of his mouth. Like black blood dripping to his chin. Cissy shuddered.

  “My, my,” Leopold drawled. “Aren’t we testy today?” He had hooked his thumbs in the pockets of his waistcoat, and, smirking at his brother, rocked back and forth on his heels.

  Von Wolfenbach’s black brows drew together and he muttered something unintelligible while apparently trying to murder his brother with his gaze. If he would but lift his lips and reveal his teeth and growl some more, he would look exactly like a mad dog, Cissy thought.

  Or rather, like a mad wolf.

  She shook her head. No matter. She’d had enough of these antics.

  “What are you doing here?” she asked loudly.

  He turned his dagger-like glare on her. “This,” he said clearly and slowly, as if talking to a particularly daft child, “is my study. Where I work.”

  Leopold leaned forward to whisper. “His den.” His breath whispered intimately over her ear. “As in, the lion’s den. Where the beast resides.” He winked at her.

  His brother grimaced in distaste. “You always had a horrible sense of humor, Leo.”

  “Better a horrid one than none altogether.”

  Cissy rolled her eyes. The men reminded her of snarling dogs.

  And then she heard the melody.

  Whirling around, she faced the old clock. After the first few notes a clicking sound joined in, and the door to the middle compartment opened to reveal a group of dwarves hacking away in their mine. Click-clack, click-clack.

  “Oh!” Delighted, she stepped nearer. They were perfect, with little caps and hammers and long beards.

  Click-clack, click-clack.

  Eventually their work slowed down, then stopped altogether, just as the last few notes of the little melody sounded. A creaking and whirring started, and on the face of the clock the eight turned inward and a man with a flowing cap and starry cloak appeared at the window.

  The clock struck the hour in clear, almost musical strokes. And all the while the tiny man looked yearningly up toward the sheep on the disk above him, looked and looked, until the last stroke had sounded and the door to the dwarves’ mine closed. Slowly, the cloaked man turned away, too. The window closed, and the big hand slipped to one minute past four.

  “Oh,” Cissy said again. “How lovely!” Behind her, she heard Leopold’s long-suffering sigh. Not paying him any attention, she turned toward the other brother. “What is this?”

  Fenris von Wolfenbach looked her up and down, then raised a mocking brow. “A grandfather clock.”

  Cissy briefly considered hitting him over the head. In her eagerness, she had forgotten what a grumpy old wolf he was. A wolf who surely loved to devour small Little Red Riding Hoods.

  Not that she saw herself as a Little Red Riding Hood. She hoped to have far more sense than to let herself be devoured.

  She decided to ignore his testiness for once, and waved in the general direction of the clock instead. “Of course this is a grandfather clock. For what kind of moron do you take me?” She allowed herself a momentary glare before she went on. “But what about the sheep? Why is there a sheep up there? And why was that mannikin staring at the sheep?”

  Von Wolfenbach shrugged. “She’s a fairy princess.”

  “A fairy princess?” Cissy could hardly believe her ears. “It’s a sheep!”

  Von Wolfenbach’s long-suffering sigh sounded almost exactly like his brother’s. “Because she is an enchanted fairy princess. She is…” He pointed toward the clock and stepped nearer. “It’s a punishment for…” Another step nearer. “She has been cursed.” And then the story caught up with him. Cissy watched how he lost himself in it, how it lit his face and eyes, and she marveled at the transformation that came over him. “She’s been cursed because she fell in love with the King of Dwarves.” He pointed to the face of the clock. “He comes out every hour, waiting for her, hoping to catch a glimpse of his beloved. But she only changes when the clock strikes twelve. And for the span of the twelve strokes, she lights up the starry sky with her radiant beauty.” His voice trailed away.

  “How sad,” Cissy murmured. “The poor princess. And the poor king!”

  Von Wolfenbach blinked, as if only now he became aware of what he had been doing. Astonished, Cissy watched the flare of dark color that rose from beneath his collar. For a moment, he looked almost adorable; then his features shifted, tightened into a fierce scowl once more.

  She sighed with disappointment.

  “Sad?” Leopold scoffed behind them. “It’s pathetic! The King of Dwarves in love with a fairy princess! He should have been the one to be punished. After all, what right does he have to court a fairy princess in the first place?”

  “What do you mean?” Cissy turned toward him.

  “Oh, come on.” Clearly exasperated, he rolled his eyes. “He’s just an ugly old dwarf, after all. The likes of him shouldn’t go around courting fairy princesses. Or any princesses, come to think of it.” />
  Leopold’s obvious annoyance astonished her. “But…but he’s in love with her!” It was romantic and tragic; lovers caught between their two worlds. Like Romeo and Juliet, really.

  “Love? Gosh.” Leopold huffed. “He isn’t even worthy of looking at her! If she ever spares him so much as a glance, it will be out of sheer pity.”

  Aghast, Cissy stared. “I can’t believe you’ve just said that.”

  “Why?” Leo threw up his arms. “He’s a dwarf. A D-WA-R-F.” With his thumb and forefinger he showed her how small he considered a dwarf to be. How insignificant. “And besides,”—putting his hands on his hips, he narrowed his eyes at her—“this is just a silly old story, anyway. A fabricated story.”

  Fenris gave a grunt that sounded very much like disgust.

  Unperturbed, Leopold continued. “I thought you were interested in reality! This is not real. What difference does it make whether he loves her or not? They’re both not real!” Breathing heavily, he stared at her as if he expected something.

  Baffled, she could only reply, “Of course it’s not real. It’s a fairy tale.” What was his point?

  “Bah!” He snorted. “All my life I’ve heard nothing but fairy tales and legends and all this mythological crap. I’m sick of it! Sick, do you hear me?” His fair face slowly turned a mottled crimson, and he no longer looked quite like a golden god.

  “Oh, I’m sure she’s heard you.” His arms crossed on his chest, the older von Wolfenbach leaned one hip against the wall. “Actually, I believe they’ve heard you down in Kirchwalden.” And he smiled. It was far from attractive.

  At his brother’s taunting words, Leopold’s color deepened. “You!” Enraged, he advanced on his sibling. “You adore all this fairy tale nonsense, don’t you?” He leaned in, crowding his brother. “You enjoy twisting reality for your own purposes. And our parents support you, of course. Our great wartime hero!” A feverish light glittered in his eyes.

  Casually, Fenris von Wolfenbach shifted his weight and straightened to his full height. He easily towered over Leopold. “You talk rubbish, little brother,” he said, very quietly. “And perhaps you shouldn’t forget that this is my home…” Letting his voice trail away, he lifted a brow. He certainly liked these taunting little gestures.

  Cissy cleared her throat. She waited until both brothers looked at her, both wearing similar expressions of annoyance. “Actually,” she said sweetly, lifting both brows “this is my home now.” She gave them both a beaming smile. “Or have you forgotten?”

  Leopold visibly pulled himself together. With an effort, he wiped the surly expression from his face and managed a tight smile instead. “My dearest, I apologize. I am mortified.” He went to her, took her hand and made as if to lift it to his mouth. But halfway there, Cissy snatched it back. After all, he had behaved like a perfect churl. Why, he had even yelled at her! She saw how he gritted his teeth. But then he sketched her a bow. “I am deeply ashamed I have let myself go like this. Be assured it will not happen again. Let me make up for it. Shall I show you the state rooms? They’re quite wondrous.”

  Again he reached for her hand, but again she evaded him. This time she could hear the crunching sound of his teeth.

  “Thank you, this is very kind, but I believe I prefer freshening up before dinner. Perhaps—”

  He turned purple. He actually turned purple. A blue vein pulsed across his forehead. “Well then,” he snapped. “Do whatever you like.” And with that he turned and stomped away.

  Blinking, Cissy stared after him. “Whatever set him off like that?” she wondered aloud.

  The sound Fenris von Wolfenbach made was something between a snort and a laugh. “Well.” He shrugged, and again a mocking smile twisted his lips. “My brother doesn’t like fairy tales.” He raised his brow. “Obviously.”

  ~*~

  Leopold apologized at dinner, while his brother and Mrs. Chisholm looked on. He even produced a little box, which he gave to Cissy, and when she opened it, a singing tin cat rolled out.

  “Awww.” Mrs. Chisholm clapped and looked rather touched. The older von Wolfenbach brother just gave an indelicate snort and drank his wine.

  Flustered, Cissy didn’t know what to say. “It’s lovely,” she finally managed. A singing tin cat? In cadmium green?

  Leopold’s face lit. “I knew you would love it. Young ladies always enjoy these silly little things.” He positively beamed at her, and Cissy didn’t have the heart to disappoint him by saying she had no idea what to do with a singing tin cat in cadmium green.

  The next day she let him continue the tour of the castle and listened to his tales about the Wolfenbach Hoard. He was as charming as she could wish for, and over the next few days his churlish behavior began to appear like a thing of the distant past, something to be easily forgotten.

  Almost.

  Interlude

  The Other was taking over their realm. They watched him strut across the stones that formed their world, watched him charm an innocent maiden, their hope for the future. Like poison, worry dripped into them. The Other had a sunny smile, yet the heart of a viper, they knew. But caught in stone, there was not much they could do to reveal a heart of human flesh and bone.

  Agitated, they muttered amongst themselves until their humming filled the dark night like a swarm of bees. Whispers wound through the foundations of the castle, sprang from stone to stone.

  A thing to reveal a human heart.

  A thing to invoke fear in a maiden’s heart.

  And they searched and searched, and when they had found what they were looking for, all it needed was a little nudge.

  And then…

  …and then…

  …and then…

  …they watched and waited some more.

  Chapter 10

  The rattling of the shutters was what alerted her first. Slowly she came awake, blinking in the dark room. Snuggled up in an enormous featherbed, Cissy liked to keep the window open at night so the fresh, crisp smell of the forest would accompany her even in her dreams. But the shutters she always partly closed. The rattling of the shutters…

  She rubbed the rest of the sleep from her eyes and then lay still, listening. For a moment, there was nothing. But then…

  Flop-flop.

  Flop.

  Cissy shot upright, her heart hammering in her ears.

  Flop-flop-flop-flop-flop-flop.

  The sound of agitated wings. Something was flying around her room—with large wings. Not tiny and soundless like a fly’s.

  Cissy swallowed hard. What could it be? A large insect, a moth perhaps? She imagined how whatever it was would flap against her and cling to her nightgown, and she shuddered with revulsion.

  Hastily she scrambled out of bed and searched for the flint box. Her candle flared up and cast the room in mellow golden light. Cissy grabbed a shoe and looked around. If it was a moth, she could kill it. True, that would probably leave a stain on the wall, but she considered such a stain preferable to sharing a room with a monster moth.

  Only it wasn’t a moth….

  Flop-flop-flop-flop-flop-flop-flop.

  She saw a dark body, a blur of skinny wings.

  “Eeeeeeh!" Cissy shrieked, grabbed her candle and, still screaming, fled the room. Safely arrived in the hallway, she banged the door closed behind her and stopped shouting. Leaning against the old wood, she took a deep breath. “Drat,” she said. “Drat! Drat! Drat!” She kicked the door frame. “Ouch!” She yelped as she found that kicking a stone door frame with bare feet was not a very wise idea. “Dang my buttons!”

  “I was not aware that gently reared young women would even know such words,” drawled an amused male voice behind her.

  Cissy whirled around.

  Leopold stood in the hallway, one shoulder leaned nonchalantly against the wall. His mouth curved upward in a mischievous smile, and the dimple appeared in his cheek, while the light of his candle transformed his fair hair into a halo. He looked utterly charming.
r />   While she…

  Cissy’s gaze fell to the shoe she was still holding. She hastily hid her hand behind her back, feeling very much like a naughty child who had been discovered stealing a biscuit. Heat rushed into her face. Flustered, she raised her eyes to his. “I…”

  She saw how his gaze ran over her, and became aware of how scantily clad she was. Just a nightgown. Not even a robe. Her blush deepened, and his smile changed.

  “What amazing things one finds when staying up late for a little game of billiards. Did you know my brother keeps a billiard room in this godforsaken castle?” He pushed himself off the wall. “What a truly charming figure you cut. Exquisite.” Slowly he came nearer, like a panther on the prowl.

  Or more like a sleek, golden, leopard.

  Cissy bit her lip. “I know you must think this highly unusual—”

  “Highly.” He halted in front of her and reached for the arm she hid behind her back. He slowly drew it around and forward, running his hand from her upper arm to her wrist. “But very, very charming.” Her shoe fell to the floor with a thunk, when, with gentle force, he pried her fingers open. He bowed over her hand and kissed her knuckles.

  “Oh.” Finally. To feel his lips on her skin again. It was terribly improper, of course. A gently bred young woman should not invite a man to take liberties with her person, yet… Forbidden, but oh-so-pleasurable tingles spread up her arm, and her knees weakened a little.

  Leopold looked up at her. “Enticing,” he breathed against her hand, and the sweet aroma of port drifted up to tickle her nose. And then she felt his warm, wet tongue sweep into the crease between two fingers.

  His tongue?

  With a gasp she snatched her hand away. Mortification made her cheeks burn. Surely this was too intimate, too—

  Laughing, Leopold straightened. “And shyly virginal, like freshly fallen snow.”

  “What?” She gaped at him, hardly believing her ears. A spark of anger joined her mortification. This was not her charming golden god!

  “Don’t be such a prissy little madam.” He trailed his knuckle over her cheek and laughed again when she twisted her head away. “It does not fit your state of dishabille.” Again, the smell of port wafted to her.