The Enemy's Kiss

by Zandria Munson

  Chapter 15

  Entering Borsec was like stepping one hundred years into the past. With its quaint little cottages and dirt roads, it was a picturesque village that clung to the grassy hillside.

  Nicholas surveyed the small wooden house that sat at the base of the hill. It was set away from the village and surrounded by a scattering of tall trees. They’d been directed there by a few of the villagers.

  His attention spanned the area, seeking anything out of the ordinary. He’d learned from centuries of experience, that adversity could often be hidden in tranquility. Something within him warned that they would meet danger on their mission. Before leaving the mansion, he’d learned from his father that Stefan had failed to present himself before the Darcian Council. Then, upon a search of his home, it had been concluded that he was missing.

  Nicholas had been more than surprised to learn that Stefan had also retained his ability to transform into a gargoyle. Initially, he’d been convinced only he and Simion had been affected because of the barrier spell they’d cast. But Stefan hadn’t even attended that ceremony. How was it then that he presented with the same abilities?

  During the long drive to the village, Nicholas had decided on two possible conclusions. One, because of Stefan’s absence that night, he’d been freed from the curse, but the sorcery hadn’t completely dissipated. And when new spells had started being performed in an effort to free Gabriel, Stefan had been susceptible to them. Or two, Stefan was the one responsible for the reckless witchcraft being performed, and in so doing, he’d reinstated his own abilities.

  After his transformation, Stefan had admitted to Nicholas that he had sought out the assistance of witches, but only in an attempt to reverse what was happening to him. Nicholas had listened but had not relayed the fact that he shared the same dilemma, uncertain if Stefan could be trusted. And now with Stefan a fugitive, as he’d not reported to the Council after promising Nicholas he’d do so, he realized that he’d been wise to keep secret that information.

  Simion began making his way down the hill and Nicholas sent Daniela a look over his shoulder. “Stay at my side,” he said as he followed his brother.

  He’d allowed Daniela to accompany them in exchange for the location of the rune. She’d confessed to burying it in a forest near Sighisoara. There’d been an exchange of trust between them. He’d had to accept her admission as the truth. He knew that if something happened to her, or if she found her sister and left spontaneously, all hope for recovering the rune would be lost.

  She, on the other hand, had given up her leverage even with the looming possibility that he could’ve simply reneged on his promise to help her and focused his attentions on his pressing family matters. The faith she’d placed in him had enhanced his urge to find and rescue her little sister. It had shocked him to realize that at this point he was willing to go to any extent to set things right in her life. He had developed feelings for her, yes, but he knew that his devotion was due mostly to pity. Or so he told himself. Daniela’s life had been hard. It was time some good fortune came her way. Her admission had also served to diminish Simion’s contempt toward her, and his brother had not objected to her coming along.

  As they approached the house, Nicholas could see the figure of a woman hunched over what appeared to be a small vegetable garden. They paused before the wooden gate that was partially concealed by an overgrowth of shrubbery and she turned to look at them. If his father had been correct, she was called Adela and had once been the pupil of the witch who’d bound Gabriel’s soul into the runes.

  “Good day,” Simion greeted her. “We are…”

  “I know who you are,” Adela interjected.

  She appeared to be in her late sixties, but was hundreds of years old, so they’d been told. She was dressed in a knitted green sweater and a long skirt, and her hair was covered with a scarf that was fastened beneath her chin. She advanced, wiping her hands on her apron.

  “I exchanged words with your father,” she said. “I have been awaiting your arrival. Please, come inside.”

  They followed her into the house and were greeted by the subtle tunes of wind chimes. Simion ducked his head as he entered, but Nicholas saw the colorful chimes too late. There were about fifteen of them strung above the doorway and they chorused wildly as he passed through them.

  Adela laughed mischievously. “Ignore them. They let me know when spirits enter my home.”

  She led them to a modest dining room that was dominated by a long wooden table. One side was neatly arranged with metal plates and cutlery, while the other side was cluttered with candles, empty glass jars with their necks wrapped with twine, and a collection of colorful ornate bottles.

  “Please, sit.” She motioned toward the table which had been set for three. “I was not expecting so many visitors, but you can sit in my place, dear.”

  Daniela smiled graciously at Adela and moved to the head of the table. Nicholas pulled the chair for her and took the seat to her right. Simion sat opposite him.

  Adela disappeared into a room Nicholas assumed was the kitchen. Wonderful smells poured out and he could hear running water then the clanking of dishes within.

  Simion leaned forward on the table. “Do you think she can be trusted?”

  Nicholas nodded. “Father instructed us to visit her and I trust his judgment.”

  He exchanged a look with Daniela. He could tell that she was still not too pleased with the purpose of their mission—to find a way to deactivate the runes. She was still afraid that if they were able to achieve such a thing and her sister’s captor found out, the situation would be out of her control. He understood her fear, and would do whatever was in his power to deliver her sister from the kidnapper before any potential leaks could reach them.

  Adela returned with a large oval tray laden with bread, a bottle of wine and a steaming ceramic dish. She placed it on the table.

  “This is my favorite. It’s called sarmale,” she said as she served them.

  She’d also brought another plate for herself and she sat to eat with them.

  “So you wish to know more about the rune,” she said and the jovial light in her eyes simmered to seriousness.

  Nicholas nodded. “If our father has not already told you, you should know that the Rune of Moloch has been stolen. It is one of the runes Agatha used in the binding spell she performed centuries ago. And now, our adversary is after its twin and his intentions are more than clear. He will attempt to awaken our uncle and his followers.”

  “I see,” Adela said. “And what would you ask of me?”

  Nicholas looked at his brother and it was Simion who supplied the answer. “We have come to you with the hope of finding a way to strip the runes of their powers.”

  Adela sighed softly and lowered her fork. “Knowledge of runes is not something that is heavily focused upon as it is a dying method in the craft. Nevertheless, everything in sorcery can be manipulated, with the right spells, of course.”

  “So there is a way?” Simion asked.

  Adela took a sip of her wine. “There is always a way. But it is as I said, the right spell must be used. I alone do not possess these abilities. The ancient spell books that governed such things have been lost for many years.”

  Nicholas could feel the hope fast leaving him. “And there are absolutely no other spells that can be substituted?”

  “Perhaps,” Adela admitted. “But the process of trial and error could prove to be more detrimental than actually releasing the beast that remains in captivity.”

  She was right. Nicholas’s own transformation was no doubt a result of sorcery cast in trial and error. Complicating things with uncertainty was definitely not an option. It seemed they’d run out of choices. The runes couldn’t be destroyed or deactivated.

  Simion exhaled a heavy breath. “Is there no other opti
on?” he asked.

  Adela set her glass down. “There is one way, but if you choose this, no spell will be able to undo it.” Her gaze was intense as she combed the faces of those present.

  Nicholas’s eyes narrowed in curiosity. “What is it?”

  Again she sent her gaze about the table. “The only way you can assure that the statues are never resurrected is by destroying them.”

  Silence crept into the room and Nicholas exchanged looks with Simion. By the expression on his brother’s face, he knew that they shared the same thought. There was a chance that their father wouldn’t agree to this method, for Lord Victor still had many regrets about what he’d done to his own brother. For centuries Lord Victor had blamed himself for what Gabriel had become, since it was he who had brought the curse upon their family. To think that their father would simply agree to completely destroy Gabriel was foolish. But their father had stated that destroying the statues would be done as a last resort, and Nicholas felt they’d arrived at that point of desperation.

  Simion’s head fell. “And if we do this and the runes are still broken, what will happen to the souls within them?”

  “Without hosts it will be as in death. The souls will be released into the spirit world.”

  Daniela’s attention snapped to Nicholas. It was obvious that she was waiting for his response. What Adela described could be considered murder and he didn’t want to give Daniela the impression that life was insignificant to him. She’d seen him kill before; if he could avoid it, he wouldn’t want her to witness it again.

  Simion pinned Nicholas with a stare and he understood. They’d been handed a solution and they had no choice but to make use of it. The statues would have to be destroyed.

  Adela stood and moved toward the brick fireplace. A small flame burned within, warming the room. She knelt and removed a brick from the wall at the base of the fireplace, revealing a small compartment. She reached in and withdrew an item that was wrapped in a length of haggard cloth. She returned to the table and handed it to Nicholas.

  “What is this?” he asked.

  “Should you be too late,” her voice was barely audible as she spoke. “Use it.”

  Simion’s head came up slowly and he and Daniela watched as Nicholas carefully unfolded the cloth. A small bronze dagger with a hilt engraved with Ananovian symbols lay within.

  Disappointment weighed heavily on him. “A lovely blade, but I fail to see how it will help.”

  Adela reached forward with both hands and removed the dagger from its wrapping. “Ah, it is no more a simple dagger than the runes are worthless stones. Even you should know that in sorcery, things are often more than they seem.”

  “What is it then?” Nicholas watched as she brought the weapon up to her eye level.

  She rotated it, examining the inscriptions that Nicholas now realized spilled onto the blade. “It is my most powerful return spell. I am often taunted by spirits and I use these spells to cast them back into the pits from which they came. They can also be used to reverse spells.”

  Simion reached for the blade and she passed it to him. “How is it used?” he asked.

  “You must plunge it into the flesh of the beast. But know this—it can only be used once, and it will only be effective during or shortly after the resurrection takes place.”

  Daniela, who’d been silent throughout the conversation, spoke up. “It’s only one dagger, though. There are twelve statues.”

  Adela nodded regretfully. “I have no others like it, and it would take at least a fortnight for me to fashion the quantity you require. You see, a combination of spells must be carefully and sequentially integrated into the dagger for it to be effective. Therefore, you must use this one where and when it is most needed.”

  Chapter 16

  Nicholas barely recognized the grounds of Fagara Castle. The land was overrun by weeds and vines, heavy trees loomed about, fighting off the pale moonlight. It had been nearly two hundred years since he’d last been there, yet he could vividly recall the night Gabriel and his followers had been brought in off the battlefield. Their tortured screams lingered in the air, filling the cavity of time.

  Simion paused at his side. He traced his flashlight along the dilapidated ramparts above.

  “So much has changed,” he said.

  Nicholas grunted in agreement. Uneasiness crept over him and he drew his gun. He sent Daniela a look that warned her to be on her guard. Their gazes held for a moment and even in the darkness, he could read the havoc of emotions that doubtlessly tortured her. She was afraid, yet courage and determination resonated amidst her trepidation. She was truly a strong, beautiful and unique woman. Much like him, she faced her fears and adversaries with an unfaltering boldness. And this he admired. With his eyes, he sent her a silent promise—he’d allow no harm to befall her.

  Together, the three of them advanced up the stone steps that led into the castle’s front entrance. The door had long decayed, leaving a yawning archway. Nicholas was first to enter while Simion lingered in the rear, scanning the shadows.

  Upon entering the foyer, Nicholas realized that the once beautiful domed ceiling had all but caved in. A gaping hole remained, permitting a scant view of the moon through the branches overhead. The majority of the walls had also crumbled and the second floor was completely gone, leaving the rooms open to the night. And as the trees parted, the starlit sky became visible overhead. The ground was also covered with grass and weeds, yet he managed to locate the passage that led to the dungeon.

  “This way,” he said.

  Daniela and Simion followed him. The glow from their flashlights cast shadows on the walls, obscuring Nicholas’s perceptions of what lay ahead. He held his gun ready for anything, but he wasn’t prepared for what he found at the end of the passage. The thick wall that he himself had helped to erect had been destroyed, and the stairway that led down into the dungeon could be seen.

  The pounding of his heart wasn’t enough to subdue the warning bells that went off in his head. Were they too late? Had Gabriel already been awakened?

  He shot Simion and Daniela a glance over his shoulder. “The barrier is gone,” he said before ducking in the portal.

  He cocked his gun as he descended the stairway. At the bottom, his fear was realized. The twelve statues were gone.

  Simion stormed into the chamber. “Who could’ve done this?” he asked, furious. Daniela wore a worried expression. “We’re too late, aren’t we?”

  Nicholas trailed the light over the dust-laden floor. “So it would seem.” He noted that there were only human footprints in the dust.

  He frowned. There was no way the gargoyles could’ve flown out of there, and there were no signs that the statues had been removed through the entrance. He wondered if Stefan had been right. Perhaps the twelve gargoyles had become human with the rest of the clan. That, or some sort of witchcraft had been used.

  Simion crouched to the floor and studied the tracks, as well. “It has been about two days since whatever happened here took place.”

  Nicholas’s discontent rose. If his brother was right then there was a chance that Gabriel and those loyal to him had already been awoken. But without the use of the second rune there was no telling what sort of mindless entities had been brought into the world. And with so much time elapsed, the dagger that Adela had given them was useless.

  A sound emerged from outside. It was unmistakable—the steady beating of wings. One thought clamored in his mind: Gabriel had returned or had never left his place of captivity!

  Simion stripped the crossbow from his back and they ran up the stairway. A large form was silhouetted by the moon. It hovered in the sky above, its massive wings fluidly caressing the night air.

  Without taking his eyes from the gargoyle, Nicholas reached for Daniela and gently eased her behind them. If the one
above them was truly Gabriel then that could only mean that eleven others lurked about. A fight was inevitable.

  Nicholas aimed his gun and beside him, his brother brought his crossbow up.

  “Show yourself,” Nicholas said loudly.

  “It is as I thought,” came a heavy voice. “You and your brother have betrayed the Drakon Clan.”

  Daniela spoke then. “Who is he?” she asked.

  Instantly, Nicholas recognized the voice. The gargoyle wasn’t Gabriel, but Stefan. “He is the one we suspect is Sabbath,” he replied.

  Stefan continued. “It seems my suspicions were correct. I do not know how I missed it before. You and your brother are the only ones Lord Drakon would ever trust with his secrets.”

  Nicholas’s eyes narrowed on him. He wondered if Stefan was really blaming them for everything that happened or trying to provide a distraction.

  Simion kept his crossbow aimed. “You are wanted before the Darcian Council. Surrender yourself.”

  Stefan’s laugh was quick and derisive. “And be brought to trial for the crimes that you two have committed? I think not. I must commend you on your cleverness, though. I would imagine that deceiving Lord Victor, and doing so right in front of his eyes, is no easy task.” He swooped upward and perched on the peak of a wall.

  Stefan’s attention flitted to Daniela. “And who is she? The witch who has been aiding you?”

  Nicholas’s gun followed him. “We are not the ones responsible for this. Tell me, what reason do you have for being here?”

  “I have been following you since you left my home this morning. I see now that I was right to do so. I have all the proof I need to implicate you and clear my name.”

  An impatient growl escaped his brother and Nicholas glanced at Simion just in time to see his finger ease on the trigger of the crossbow.

  “I grow tired of your nonsense,” Simion barked. “Come with us willingly or you will be taken by force.”