The guests continued to arrive even though the weather was ghastly. They came from Paris and from Versailles and from the neighboring villages from houses as large and splendid as their own. Many came to meet the new wife for the first time as it was whispered in many circles just how beautiful his distant cousin was and how charming and what a blessing she was to the grieving man. Of course they al knew that she had been his mistress but they chose to ignore this piece of information and welcomed her into the civilized society as the Countess D’Aumont. The servants were kept busy tending to the horses that continued to pull up to the unassuming façade and almost every guest failed to suppress the wonder and surprise at finding themselves at the top of the most magnificent marble staircase leading down to the great gallery already brimming with people. The house never looked more beautiful and Celine knew it. She wanted to impress the society in which she was becoming a bit of a local legend. She had to live up to that legend and even surpass it. She felt the familiar hunger for power and prestige and worship wash over her again as she fastened the pin of emeralds into her coiffure. She wanted to wait until everyone had arrived before making a proper entrance. She had her maid convey to her who had arrived and marked a list at her vanity table each time a name was revealed. Only a handful were left and it was possible they might not make the event due to the winter storm that was already gaining in intensity. The snow falling outside her windows only gave her more strength as if she gathered energy from the display of power that only nature could provide. She looked into her reflection and was taken back at how truly stunning she was. She wore a gown of red velvet accented with white and green ribbons. In her hair were ribbons of emerald color woven into the upswept locks that took hours to put into place. She wore only emeralds as her jewelry tonight knowing how the light and color showed off the creaminess of her skin and the scarlet color of her mane. She was never more beautiful that she was right now and she wanted to remember this moment forever. She smiled at the notion that she truly would remember this moment until the end of time. Her husband had knocked at her door three times already to urge her to greet her guests and each time he was sent away with the promise that she was only a few minutes away from being ready. Her mirror image looked proudly back at her. She had every reason to be proud as she had in such a short time conquered this new age with all its strangeness and frightening progress. The morals of this time confused her as they went against her own upbringing which regarded sexual relations as natural and part of worship. These people were prudes which was a word that had no existence to her until recently and how she had learned it all so quickly. She remembered with a slight giggle how shocked Marcel had been at her wanton advances and her unreserved manner in which she regarded her own body. He had never met a woman like her who was in control of her sexuality and knew exactly how to utilize it. She behaved like a common woman of the streets at times but this only fueled the passion he already felt for her and then in a flash she could become as regal as a queen and an upstanding member of high society. She was a mystery to him and lately he was beginning to see what a paradox she truly was. Celine finally roused herself and gathered a light shawl to wrap around her shoulders. She told her maid to fetch her husband and stood before the mirror looking in vain to find any flaws in her form.
There was music playing above the voices of the guests as the Count and Countess D’Aumont descended the pink marble stairs. They walked slowly arm in arm and were whispering little things in each others’ ears. At first no one saw them on the landing in the gallery and then little by little the voices were hushed as a ripple of wonder spread through the gathering. The host and hostess smiled benevolently at everyone and slowly the sound of applause filled the room. The music took a turn into something light and gay and the beautiful couple began to greet each of their guests properly walking from group to group with bows and curtsies and kisses on the cheek. Many of the men were staring blatantly at this fascinating creature wishing quietly that their own wives could pull off something like the countess. She was obviously wealthy and self possessed yet there was something so sensual about her that the men found themselves thinking thoughts they had no right to be thinking. The party got underway and there was much food in silver dishes and an abundance of wine and claret and brandy. As the hour of midnight approached the noise from the party reached a new peak as excitement at the prospect of a new year was at hand. Celine behaved beautifully and none could have guessed that she was not truly born of French royalty because every gesture and every word spoke only of the most refined training and her accent was as perfect as her deportment. In that evening Celine was envied by more than half of the women present and hated by the remaining half. She was well aware of this little fact and counted it as a personal victory. Her place was secured now. They would talk of this party for months to come and about how gracious and kind the new countess was. Celine counted this night as a victory and wished that it would last and last but like all things time was ticking madly away and around two in the morning the party was still going on and many of the guests who were staying for a few days had stayed up dancing and playing cards and gossiping the night away. Celine wandered from group to group and chatted politely with everyone she encountered acting as if they were the most fascinating of all people and begged them to tell her more of their lives and adventures. All this information she locked away inside her bright mind like little jewels. The more she knew about these people the more power she would be able to glean for her and her husband. She was listening intently to the most oppressive of bores, a fat countess with a title who complained endlessly about her health. Suddenly Celine could no longer hear the monotonous ramblings about the woman’s digestion because she was startled by the presence of someone who was staring at her. It was someone outside in the snow looking into the windows directly at her. At first she thought it must be a stable boy who was lured by the lights and the music but dismissed the thought when she got a good look at his clothing. He was apparently someone of social standing with his long black cloak and even in the dark she thought she could see diamonds shining on his fingers. He was a man of small stature standing all alone in the drifting snow. She thought he was a guest who had drank too much and was confused but then something about him began to haunt her. There was something familiar about him and in a heartbeat she knew who he was. He was one of the invaders who had stolen the water from her all those years ago. He had come looking for the spring which was now well hidden far beneath the large house and he was staring at her coldly and accusingly and most definitely with a look of disbelief. Celine excused herself from the tirade of the old woman and walked quickly to the stairs where her husband was talking excitedly about business with a few other of his wealthy friends.
“Please excuse us gentlemen.” She said in her most feminine and seductive of voices. “I need to borrow my husband for just one moment, I promise to return him to you unharmed.” She laughed and grabbed Marcel’s arm and led him away from the ears of the partygoers. She whispered to him as quietly as possible about the man on the terrace. Marcel looked shocked and his eyes flew to the windows to see the man Celine was talking about. There was no one outside. Celine just clucked her tongue and shook her head. “Oh don’t worry my love. He’ll be back and I bet you he doesn’t come alone.”
“What do we do?” Marcel sounded frightened.
“Oh I will tell you what we are going to do my love. We will lay the most intricate of mouse traps because after all it is we who have the cheese.” She kissed him unexpectedly. “Don’t you worry about a thing. You take care of the guests and begin to make excuses for me that I am simply too tired to continue on anymore and had to retire but don’t interrupt their fun. Tell everyone I will see them in the morning over a hot and sumptuous breakfast which our cooks are preparing even as we speak.” She smiled at him reassuringly “Don’t worry darling. We have what he wants and that is to our advantage. He won’t risk anything with so many people around and this t
ime he doesn’t have an army.” An angry dark look clouded her eyes and for a second Marcel was afraid of her. She turned and walked up the stairs quickly leaving the party without a single glance backwards. Marcel watched the figure of his wife ascend the stairway with a look of awe and timid fear. It was easy to forget who she really was at times and tonight had been one of those evenings where he had almost forgotten everything except that he had a beautiful wife and that most of his peers were envious of him. The illusion of normalcy had come to him this evening and he had reveled in it. Seeing the mad look of vengeance on her face reminded Marcel that there was nothing normal about Celine. There were times when he looked at her as if she were some demon or monster from an old legend and when she caught him looking at her thus, she would kiss and coddle him and smooth away his fears with the pleasures of the flesh at which she was very skilled. She made it to her room unseen and ran to her windows. Out in the park she could barely make out the footsteps leading from the terrace out into the lovely grounds. They were disappearing quickly but from the looks of the white dusty trail it seemed as if the interloper had made his way down to the stables. How could it be that none of her vast army of servants had seen him? For a moment she considered going after him but abandoned the idea. He would return. He must know by now that the house stood on top of the ancient sight of the pool of Locium. To get to the waters he would have to get through her and she would make that very easy for him. She sat down wearily on her bed and began to remove her silk shoes. She would have to get rid of her guests before she could deal with him. Most of them would be gone in a few days and since she had waited now for her revenge for countless centuries she knew that a couple of days would mean nothing in the vast expanse of time, besides it would give her time to devise a plan worthy of the men who stole her life from her. Mere death was not good enough for them. She would make them suffer horribly first and relish each moment of pain she would be able to inflict before ridding herself of the threat to her life and her claim to the waters. Once again she found herself the guardian of the sacred pool and never more than now was her destiny more clear to her. She rang for her maid to help her undress and as the woman removed the yards of material that Celine found ridiculous yet pleasing to look at she began to think of just how she was going to get the men who had stolen what was hers. She was excited at the prospect of creating a plan that was both clever and cruel. For so long now she had been nothing but civilized and proper and was all that everyone had expected from a woman of her position. For the first time in a long time she was going to be herself again. She would be powerful and primitive and eternal and as she sat there she began to feel the energy rise dangerously from her body and her maid stopped in the middle of unlacing the ribbons that held her in and looked around the room as if she sensed something was wrong. Celine regained control of herself and the woman returned to the task at hand as if nothing unusual had occurred. Celine would have to be more careful. She came perilously close to revealing just how powerful she was and in front of her chamber maid of all people. She belonged to the most superstitious and frightened group of all these outlandish people who called her ancient land their home. She didn’t want to have to kill another servant and she really liked this one though for the life of her she could not remember her name. No, there would be enough killing soon. She breathed in and out slowly and deeply to calm the boiling rage that was coming up to the surface of her mad soul.
ORLEANS
Sasha got off the train at the quaint brick station in Orleans and had no trouble finding a taxi as there were several waiting in line as the passengers disembarked. Her driver was an old French man who had a passion for collecting the wild mushrooms that abounded in the heavy forests of Orleans. He went on and on telling her how many different types could be found in the woods surrounding the town and how amazing and delicate each species was to him. In a way she envied the old man and his passion for something so simple and solid and once again she wondered why she was beginning to yearn for a life that was bourgeoisie when all her life she dreamed of the polar opposite. This dichotomy of thoughts was interrupted when she realized that they had arrived at Celgen. She paid the man and then asked for him to wait as she was totally aware that she had no plan of action. All she knew was that she had to see Taylor and make sure that he was alright. The driver had no problem waiting and pulled out a book about the different varieties of wild mushrooms and began to read. Sasha got out of the taxi and blinked in the midday sun. The lab was an enormous chateau with round turrets and even sported a moat. There were white swans swimming in the water and she thought she could hear the bleating of sheep in the background. It was definitely an unusual location for a laboratory. She gathered her courage and rang the doorbell not quite knowing what she was going to say. After a few minutes a middle aged rotund woman answered the door and looked Sasha up and down as if she were a street beggar.
“Excuse me. I work for Celine D’Aumont and I’ve come on some urgent business. It’s imperative that I speak to her.” The woman continued to stare but began to nod up and down as if she understood.
“Miss D’Aumont in not here.” She finally said in a low heavy accent. “She left for Paris this morning. You missed her by a couple of hours. I’m sorry you wasted your time.” She smiled as if she were not sorry at all.
“Well then, is Taylor Hamilton still here? The American journalist? I need to see him as well.” Sasha was surprised at how shaky her voice sounded. The old woman glared at her and looked around to see if anyone were near.
“No. I’m afraid he left with her.” She began to close the door and Sasha put out her hand to stop her.
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