by Sara Clancy
Roughly scrubbing his face, Radu stumbled his way into the kitchen, bumping into just about everything possible along the way. His slumberous rambling provided plenty of time for Mihail to finish cooking an omelet, serve it on a plate, and place it on the table for his arrival. Radu slumped into the seat and devoured the large meal in only a few mouthfuls.
“Has Abe woken up yet?” Radu asked.
Handing over a glass of orange juice, Mihail shook his head, “If he did, he hasn’t come out of his room.”
“I had the weirdest dreams about that damn doll.” The police officer muttered as he scrubbed at his face.
“I don't think that's weird, given the circumstances.”
Radu arched a dark eyebrow, “It was chasing me around the sinking Titanic.”
“Oh. I don't know what to say to that.”
At last, a small smile crossed Radu's face. Mihail caught a glimpse of it as he turned back to the stove and prepared to make another omelet.
“How’s your ankle?” Radu yawned.
“I'm trying my best to ignore it. How’s your bite?”
“Still there,” Radu said. “I know because of the constant pain. Do you think I'll need to get a rabies shot?”
“That's an Abe question.”
“Right.”
Mihail kept his attention on the frying pan before him, but couldn't help whispering to himself, “I did warn you.”
Turning around, he saw Radu's eyes narrow, but the officer kept any comments to himself. His annoyance didn't stop him from finishing off the second meal as quickly as the first. After hearing that the croissants still needed a few minutes, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and lurched to his feet.
“I need to run into town. Do you think you’ll be able to keep Abe here by yourself? I'll be as quick as I can.”
Mihail nodded, “I’ll just keep feeding him.”
“That’ll work.”
Mihail frowned when the taller man headed to the door without further comment.
“I'd prefer it if you told me what you're doing. It’ll make it easier to keep Abe pacified if we know what we’re waiting for.”
“I’m going to check in on the local police station. They know I’m involved in all this now, so there's no reason to be subtle. I want to see what they’re up to.” Pulling on his jacket, he smiled. “And I’m hoping to borrow a few toys for our adventure today.”
“Good luck,” Mihail said. He didn't know what else to say to a police officer informing him that he plans to steal from corrupt officers.
Radu reached for the door again and then paused. “You don't think the doll is still out there, do you?”
“I don't know,” Mihail admitted. “But, from what I've seen, this sort of stuff doesn't seem to be as active during the day.”
The moment the door closed behind Radu, Mihail rushed to find a way to busy himself. He cleaned up the snow that had swept in while the door was open and went back to preparing Abe's breakfast. He also made extra for him, although he wasn't sure his stomach was up to the task of eating anything. All of this activity didn't help to quell his growing anxiety of what they were about to face. The possibilities threatened to drive him insane within a moment. So he clung to facts. Cold and simple. Mindless, fine details instead of the overall implications. It was easier to try and remember how many steps there were between the front door and the dining room than it was to think of what would happen if they failed. Or what success might mean.
The thought passed his mind to make a map. He clutched to it. Rushing around the house, he searched for and failed to find some paper or pens. So Mihail gathered every odd item he could and set about making a model of the castle layout. It was hard to get anything to scale. There weren’t enough things the same size. It made it nearly impossible to get it right.
He started the project on the kitchen table, but the intricate, maze-like layout of the castle proved to be too cumbersome. It spread out onto the coffee table and, by the time Abe emerged from his bedroom, a good portion of the living room floor had been taken over by the replica.
“Stop,” Mihail snapped a hand up to stop Abe an instant before his bare foot collided with on ghost shaped cookie jar. “That's the ball room. Don’t step on it.”
“I shouldn't have left you alone,” Abe said as he scratched his cheek, his fingers working his beard into odd angles. He sighed, “Mihail, it’s not even six.”
“Uh huh. Breakfast is ready.”
Without looking, he flapped an arm towards the table. Abe carefully maneuvered across the room and returned with coffee in one hand and a croissant in the other. Standing on the edge of the display, he ate noisily as he watched Mihail work.
“Are these blueprints of the castle?”
At least that was what Mihail thought Abe said. It was hard to understand his deep, grumbling voice when he was sleepy. The mouthful of food didn't help the matter.
“Yes.” Sitting back on his ankles, Mihail surveyed his handiwork. “Admittedly, it’s not perfect, but it’s close.”
Abe grunted, gulped down the last of the baked good, and asked, “How long have ya been awake?”
“A while.”
“Ya eaten?”
“Huh?” Mihail asked, more focused on trying to get one of the third level bedrooms just right than the conversation.
“I’ll take that as a no.”
Mihail had thought that was the end of it as Abe shuffled his way into the kitchen. So it was a bit of a shock to have a pastry suddenly shoved into his face.
“Thank you, but I'm not hungry.”
“Have you slept?” Abe demanded, his voice clearer.
“A little.”
Abe didn't believe him for a second. “Eat the damn thing.”
All protest would just be a waste of time and effort, so Mihail surrendered. Ripping off little bits and chewing them carefully, he tried to force the morsels into his upset stomach.
“Where’s Radu?” Abe asked.
“He went to town,” Mihail said. “And left strict instructions that you weren’t to leave until he got back.”
“Didn’t know he was in charge,” Abe mumbled into his coffee.
“Neither did I, but here we are.”
Mihail tried not to conceal all signs of anxiety as he waited to see how Abe would react to this. Despite what Mihail had said, he knew that Abe remaining here relied entirely on the colossal man agreeing to do so. After a painfully long moment, Abe grunted, asked about Mihail's leg, and then turned his full focus onto his breakfast. There was enough food to keep Abe occupied for a while, but Mihail still took effort to make himself look busy, like there was too much to do now to jump the gun and return to the castle. His concern that Abe would be reckless proved to be unfounded, as after finishing breakfast, the medium started sorting through all of the items they were going to take with them.
As Mihail worked on the model, he kept sneaking glances at Abe's ever-growing war chest. Most of the items he knew by sight but couldn't name. Abe had never gone into great detail with him about the tools of his trade. Mostly because Abe never had much need for them. As a physical medium, Abe was simultaneously the most vulnerable and the most dangerous being at a haunted location. He could touch ghosts without the need for charms. Could injure them as if they were flesh and bone. It was the fact that they could hurt him that created a few problems. Blessings and protections were generally what Abe employed. All the other stuff, the enchantments and holy items, were used by his parents. Maybe that was why Mihail cringed to see Abe preparing those things now, fussing over them with an expert touch and a keen eye before storing them into a dense, black duffel bag.
Chapter 10
Radu returned shortly after Abe had finished his task. He burst into the house with a gust of frigid air and careening snowflakes to find the other two studying the model that now claimed much of the space. Fighting his way free of his jacket and boots, both of which were currently creating puddles across the
floor, he quickly glanced over the area and asked,
“Is this the whole of the castle?”
“I'm fairly sure it's not,” Mihail admitted. “There are too many hidden rooms and passageways and it all doubles back on each other. The moment I think I've seen everything, I move a painting and find a whole other wing.”
Radu took another look, and frowned, “Who built this place?”
“What's in the bag?” Abe asked.
Mihail had been so focused on his task that he hadn't even spotted the large bag Radu was carrying. It looked very much like Abe's, only with the police logo branded on the side in an almost fluorescent ink. It seemed full to the brim, but Radu had no problem lifting it above his head.
“Presents,” he declared with a grin. “And for the record, Abe, this covers me for all future birthdays and Christmases.”
With one careful but swift step, Abe was able to snatch the bag from Radu's hand.
“I'm Jewish,” Abe smiled and took the bag to the kitchen.
It hadn't occurred to Mihail at the time, but when he had sent Abe to eat, the table had already been claimed by his project. He supposed that his friend had made do by sitting on the floor because that was where he settled down now, legs splayed out, back against the cabinets, and bag between his knees.
“Okay,” Radu said as he eased himself down to sit opposite him. “Let’s compare notes.”
“What did you learn?” The words rushed out of Mihail's mouth like a floodgate had failed.
“Pretty much what I expected,” Radu eased. He waited until Mihail was sitting cross-legged to continue. “No one’s in a big hurry to help a murderous witch. We’ll have a bit of time before anyone starts interfering.”
Mihail wasn’t sure what he should feel about these revelations. Sitting silently, he waited for the raw rush of righteous anger he knew should come. After all, law enforcement had just abandoned an elderly woman because of superstition. He waited, but didn't feel anything.
Is it still a ‘superstition’ if it’s correct? Mihail pushed the thought away. His grandmother, identity theft, even the way the town of Rupt Teren clung to old traditions, beliefs, and horrors were only distractions. They blinded him to the danger that loomed over him like a dagger ready to drop.
What'll happen if we can't save Draciana? The question rolled around his mind, unable to find a reliable answer, only terrifying whispers of his imagination. He could no longer kid himself that she was as ignorant as he was about all of this. If anything, she seemed to be the gatekeeper. The one who decided which souls remained to roam, restless and violent. Would her death set them free? Throw open the doors and let the dead spread like a plague? And what if there's something worse she's been keeping prisoner? A gnawing sense of helplessness opened behind Mihail’s ribs and he grappled for something to distract him from his thoughts.
While he had been distracted, Abe had been busy emptying out Radu's bag.
“Bulletproof vests?” The material was thick and rigid, keeping its shape as Abe held it up before him, staring at it as if closer inspection would prove it to be something else. “Seriously?”
“People do like stabbing you,” Mihail commented.
Both men turned to look at him. Only Radu was amused.
“What? A doll tried to kill you last night,” Mihail said.
“Mostly you,” Radu said.
Mihail frowned, “It was trying to take me. That’s different.”
“While we’re on the subject,” Radu said. “Can we discuss where it might have taken you?”
“Home,” Abe said.
“To the castle?” Radu asked.
“Well, there are only two options. One; the guy impersonating him had orders to bring Mihail back. Or two; Draciana waited to stash him away somewhere. Take your pick.”
Radu looked at him for a long moment. “That’s not exactly how my brain works. I’m going to need a bit more.”
“Like what?” Abe asked.
“What on earth would they want with him?”
Mihail tried not to take offence at the thumb that was jerked in his direction. The least he could do was look at me when he said it, Mihail thought as he silently watched the pair.
“He’d be a decent bargaining chip against Draciana. Though I doubt even threatening to kill her grandson would be enough to make that woman bow,” Abe replied.
“So,” Radu stretched the word out as he lifted his hands to mimic scales. “I’m hearing that we think the doppelganger made the doll.”
“It’s fifty-fifty. But whatever helps ya.”
Abe dumped the surprisingly heavy vest into Mihail's lap and smirked at hearing the smaller man's disgruntled huff of protest.
“That was mean and uncalled for,” Mihail pointed out, trying to sound stern while fighting back a small smile.
“Two of my defining characteristics,” Abe mumbled, already more interested in the next item. “What the hell?”
“Ah! Careful with those,” Radu reached forward to cup his hands under the cumbersome, metallic goggles that Abe was manhandling. “Night vision goggles are expensive.”
“Why would the local police even have these?”
“You have no idea how many times we get called out to find missing livestock in the middle of the night,” Radu said.
Mihail gently took the goggles from Abe’s hand and began to fiddle with them, trying to figure out how they worked. Radu relaxed to see them in Mihail's care, even with all of the mindless poking and twisting.
“Would they be able to see temperature differences?” He paused and glanced up at Abe, “Is it true that people can see ghosts by their heat signatures? I've heard that they show up as cold spots.”
Abe's brow furrowed. “How would I know?”
“You’re a medium,” Radu said it like a question.
“Yeah,” Abe said. “I already see ghosts. All that paranormal investigation junk is to help folks catch up to me.”
“Right, what were we thinking?” Radu smiled.
Instead of a reply, Abe went back to the task of emptying the bag. There were a few metal cylinders that Radu informed them was tear gas. A left over from the government’s half-hearted attempt to settle a riot a few years back. Radu couldn’t recall what exactly had sparked the disturbance, although he tossed out a few ideas. It rose the question of expiry dates, and what exactly happens to tear gas when it reaches them.
“Guess we'll find out,” Radu shrugged.
Mihail stopped rolling the can between his hands at that point, and carefully set it down as far away from them as he could reach. The few other items from the bag were far more mundane. Rope and first-aid kits and the like. Mihail had almost tuned out when Abe cautiously lifted a handgun into the air. Radu was quick to pull it from the medium's grasp and tucked it into the back of his pants. It was both unsettling and reassuring how casually the large man handled the weapon.
“It might be a little late to ask this, but has anyone actually stormed a castle before?” Radu asked.
“How hard can it be?” Abe asked.
Mihail and Radu both looked at him for a long moment.
“How hard can it be to break into a medieval castle?” Mihail laughed slightly. “It was built for the sole purpose of keeping people out. If they remember to pull up the drawbridge, we have no way in.”
“We can climb,” Abe said.
Mihail lifted his eyebrows. “Climb? Miles up a sheer stone?”
“Why not?” Abe said.
“Did you forget how much I struggled to get up a few feet of rope? And that time I had the motivation of getting away from a demon, not running towards one.”
“So, I'll carry ya.” A sharp edge was creeping into Abe's words.
“Just strap me on your back? That's your solution? You know that there are rapids at the base of the pillar, right? We'll have to traverse them first. Then climb up a distance that will mean death if we fall, all while leaving us utterly exposed.”
“Alright,” Abe cut in. “Let's hear your brilliant idea.”
Mihail didn’t have one. Admitting that, however, would be an act of stupidity. And would go against his whole reason for constructing the model.
“I've done the layout as best I can. I suggest that we let the one person we have with any measure of training look it over and make a few suggestions.”
Radu's answering smile quickly faded, “Wait. Did you just shift all the blame to me?”
Mihail pretended not to have heard the question as he got to his feet. There was a sudden shift in Radu's demeanor as they began to study the blueprints. All jokes and teasing stopped. Every question he formed was concise and used the least amount of words necessary to convey his point. This was a matter of business, something he intended to carry out with military precision.
Radu pointed to a circular room, “What’s that?”
“It’s Draciana’s breakfast nook,” Mihail said. “It’s relatively open, there are no walls to speak of, just a series of huge stone gargoyles holding up the roof. But I don't think it'll be much help. It's the highest point in the castle.”
Radu's professionalism broke just long enough for him to ask, “Gargoyles?”
“There’s quite a few of them in the castle,” Abe said.
“In the upper corridors, there are rows of small silver ones that work to catch and spread the moonlight,” Mihail cut into explain. “And some in the foyer.”
“Who decorated this place?” Radu laughed.
“We should probably have a plan for them, actually,” Mihail said. “The last time the spirits got stirred up, they animated the silver gargoyles to attack me.”
Abe added, “I vaguely remember being strung up between a few of the big ones. Was your granny gonna shoot me?”
“Technically, you were possessed at the time,” Mihail said.
“So,” Radu said, “a few things are clear; Avoid statues. Mihail is likely to be attacked by tiny things. The deranged woman has a gun. And I need to be far more selective about the people I make friends with.”
“I would say all of those are accurate, yes,” Mihail said.
