Legends of Astræa_Cupid's Arrow

by Sophia Alessandrini

  “Special delivery,” the guard said officially.

  “Now?” I asked.

  It was sometime past midnight. The guard handed me the letter. I smiled at him. He didn’t. I had tried many times to exchange words with any of them, but they were devoid of human connection.

  I was exhausted, so I pointed at the table in the antechamber. He brought the large package inside and left my room without even lifting his sight on me, almost as if they were under a spell not to look at me.

  Once alone again, I opened the letter and read:

  Dance with me,

  The antichrist

  I giggled and opened the box next. Inside was the most beautiful red and gold embroidered gown, as beautiful as the one I wore in Demyan’s dreams, and a mask that matched it with red feathers, encrusted rubies, and gold trimmings, an exquisite work of art. Demyan wanted to dance with me at the ball. Then I closed my eyes and thought of Demyan’s kiss. I was sure he knew he was competing for my attention with Nicholas. Excitement flushed my cheeks, quickly crashing into panic.

  Honestly, I didn’t know what to do.

  I realized that I was in love with both. How could this be?

  I brought the big box and letter with me into the dressing room. I put it next to the many other things that had arrived that morning and hadn’t been sorted yet. I looked at the ornamented mannequin inside my dressing room. I had one of those and a large round settee, wall-to-wall dresses hanging, and all kinds of things I didn’t care about. A triple-frosting-cupcake ball dress that had a train twelve feet long made entirely of white ostrich feathers was fitted over the mannequin. A blue banner laced with gold thread lay across the shoulder and was pinned at the waist with a real gold-and-sapphires emblem of the kingdom’s crown. A leather box held a sapphire-and-diamonds tiara that was also part of the ensemble. There was no mask for me. I was supposed to be the only one without one. According to the designer, I was supposed to be an angel coming from heaven. Obviously, he had never met dear old Ash.

  The shoes were the worst part. They must had been designed by Lucifer himself. How was I supposed to walk with those weapons without ripping the dress’s train or trip going down the royal staircase, or causing irreparable harm to anyone’s foot for that matter—namely Demyan or Nicholas.

  Then I looked at the large box Demyan had sent. I pulled one of the shoes out. They had small, one-inch pointy heels and very flexible hand-painted leather. I tried the left one. It was very comfortable. I could easily run in those. Demyan had thought of my feet. There was now the debate of which dress I was going to wear. I also had to convince Demyan to help me with my getaway plan.

  I changed into my black exercise leggings, black leather plimsolls, and black long-sleeve hoodie—that I had forced the circus asylum to buy for me— over my shoulder armor.

  How was it possible to feel so wonderful and so lost at the same time? I was in love with both and tragically none of that would matter at a critical moment like this. I didn’t have the luxury of choosing or playing the princess. I had to find the medallion first. Émil was somewhat wrong; it was my only chance to vanquish Ash, to fight against him. I pulled my hair back into a tight bun and covered it with the hoodie.

  I opened the secret panel and pulled everything out of the leather backpack. I was taking it with me tonight. I put everything back in the panel, including Demyan’s letter, and I closed the panel. I slid the backpack on.

  Time was running short. If I waited to investigate the Count’s whereabouts until right before the party, I could fall into the trouble of needing to get Enit, or any other Draugr, away from my room. I couldn’t risk waiting until then. This was the last chance I had.

  Since the night was already proving to be a long one, I decided to use just my third eye, as Demyan and Francis had called it. I didn’t want to surprise anyone at the palace with my glowing greenish body. Last time had been real close.

  I pictured the Count’s face to find him and found him instantly. He was busy in the main royal hall, screaming orders to a couple of royal guards. Then I watched him leave the palace in a vehicle that waited for him. Where would he be going at this hour? I wondered, reaching with my mind the Count’s room. I had to make sure his room was empty.

  The room was empty. No Draugr on site.

  I opened my eyes and readied myself to a life of crime.

  Chapter 42

  After thorough inspection, I felt confident to say that the palace’s security had been lowered tonight, since Reginald knew the prince was going to kidnap me. I couldn’t help myself from breaking into a nervous giggle.

  The queen’s balcony overlooked the gardens. My face felt heated at the sight. It seemed inevitable to think of Nicholas’s kisses and hands. What had taken over me? All right enough. Climbing roofs. Focus.

  The Gothic ancient architecture of the palace had tall spires with pointed arches made from limestone over each window. Crap. This was a really bad idea. The trick was to climb the thick and wide moldings using the creepy water spouts carved with imaginary creatures. Once I could reach the life-size gargoyle by the spire, then I could very well reach the east wing of the palace, if I dared walking over the medieval buttress that was barely a couple feet wide and about 120 feet tall according to Enit. It connected into the east wing roof. I wondered how many Draugr liked to perch over those buttresses. Would I be able to move without being noticed? Would I be able to do it without killing myself?

  Right then, I wished I had wings, but I had wait until I was thirty. Then, I could then drink some old creep’s blood in a weird ritual and become immortal—geez, couldn’t wait. Gross. No thanks.

  From afar on the east wing, the Count’s balcony windows looked closed, probably even locked, and I knew why. He didn’t want any other Draugr or Strzyga flying to his chambers and finding what I saw in those three little notebooks. I sighed, giving a second glance at the craziness I was planning to do.

  This is my window of opportunity, I thought as I jumped off my balcony onto the molding edging the building. I crossed my fingers that none of those moldings were too old or weak to hold my weight. My hearts raced, and my breaths burst in and out as I stepped onto the creepy waterspouts and ornamental moldings all the way to the top. The force of gravity pulled me toward the empty bottom. I grabbed the edges of the stone moldings harder.

  You can do this. I balanced my weight with terrible difficulty as I reached the buttress. The moonlight had disappeared behind the hills, and I couldn’t see much in the dark. I barely had but a prayer. I knew those heights were alarmingly dangerous. Crap. I realized I couldn’t do this. This was a bad idea from the start. My body quivered. It had broken into sweating, and my hands felt slippery. I could go back, but I wanted those notebooks. The next step seemed impossible. I had to jump between roofs. From my window, it had looked like a very easy, small distance between them. Not anymore.

  Please don’t look down. You can do this, I kept repeating inside my head. You can do it. I inhaled and exhaled deeply, and had my mind concentrate on something pleasant, just like Francis had taught me to calm myself. My mind wandered to the dancing invitation from Demyan and the dress inside that box. Then it wandered to Nicholas’s forward courting this morning. I giggled at the fall we had together. Suddenly I wasn’t as tense or scared.

  Once I reached that clarity of thought and regained my composure, I concentrated on the spot where I was going to land. I breathed easily and jumped between the roofs of the palace. I looked up from my feet to look around. Just as I suspected, the Count’s window balcony was a little too high from where I had landed, but some of the ornate molding helped my footing.

  Once I reached the balcony, I used my mind to open the lock on the small, old-style, flat, brass knob. I was inside the room. I had made it. I felt a mix of elation, fear, and caution. I strode directly to his desk. I took the notebooks and threw them inside my black leather backpack. I prayed the Count was so overwhelmed with party arrangements he wouldn’
t have a chance to even glance at his notebooks. I went outside and locked his windows back. Now, I had to repeat the process and go back to my room. I inhaled and exhaled calmly as I climbed off the Count’s balcony. If I could do it once, I could do it again.

  Ten minutes later, badda-bing badda-bang, I was back in my room. Who knew a rush of adrenaline could be so exhilarating? I licked my finger and rubbed it over the flattened egg. The armor rings collapsed into three separate pieces again. My mind was fully awake, so I took the notebooks out and began to glance through them. I had to see for myself where to look for the medallion, why the Count was receiving so much money, and what kind of drug was he making.

  I got caught in the notes about the experiments. I translated subject one, type one—my dad. Shows extreme signs of violent and uncontrollable behavior. Subject has mutated into a thirsty animal, despondent to human cognition. Must be terminated.

  I wiped my tears. I hated the Count so much. Most of his notes ended like that, except for Marcum’s. Subject nine type seven. Shows extreme signs of strong will. His cognitive abilities are present. Although his thirst is great, subject loathes human blood or any other type of blood. He prefers to die of starvation. But he is resourceful. Currently, he has survived on rodents and begs for his termination. Cannot be controlled. Subject must be terminated. Formula 7 must be perfected for our next subject.

  Marcum was the one who had his intelligence intact, despite the loss of his Draugr. Sometime later, I put the notebooks back in the backpack along with my documents and crammed in the three armor pieces including the Tear of Uadjet. I hid them inside the secret panel. I was going to need them at one point soon—like in little less than sixty-one hours.

  I accidentally pushed open the secret panel two more times before closing the panel. A second wood panel disguised as the back wall popped open. A cold musty breeze touched my face, and the view of a small, dark staircase was asking me to follow it. I wondered if it led straight into the dungeons. Only one way to find out.

  However, it was too dark to venture into it. My brain searched for something I could take with me that illuminated those steps other than my own greeny glow. I took myself into the bathroom. I had seen a couple of candelabra with real candles I had never used. I stole two and lit one with the automatic lighter I saw Enit use for the fireplace. I pocketed the lighter and the second candle under the waist of my leggings. I didn’t know if I would use a second one for my return. I hid my backpack under the mannequin with the twelve-foot-long train. I didn’t want Enit or anyone else stumbling upon it by accident.

  I wondered if this stairway had been how Demyan had put those chocolates in my room without anyone seeing him—or how the queen had disappeared. Crap. My hand passed over the stone wall on my right side of the curving staircase, which was the center part of it. It felt rough and uneven, which was better than the small crumbling narrowed steps. I was just glad that there were no spider webs. On the other hand, it just meant this passage had been used frequently and recently. Crap. There was one direction I had to follow—down, until reaching the bottom.

  There, I saw the large rodents with French pedigree under the light of my candle. I recognized this section of the palace. To my left was the dungeon’s side of the palace where we had been guests. To my right, or east side of the palace it, led to Marcum’s section. I had guessed right. This staircase led to the dungeons.

  I knew how was I going to help Marcum. I yawned.

  Crap. It might be better if I went to sleep. I had too many things I had to do before the party, so I returned to my room, hid my backpack inside the secret panel, and slid inside my bed covers.

  Enit’s voice woke me up. I yawned, stretching lazily, and feeling drowsy from the lack of sleep the night before. I had stolen the notebooks. Now I had to free Gavril and, if I had a chance, perhaps even Marcum. I grinned and patted myself mentally then I kicked myself mentally for doing it. The truth was that the Count was as lost as I was. His notes detailed all the excavations and travels he had done for the last seven centuries. He was out of ideas, and I was too. The good news was that maybe those formulas and notes could help poor Marcum. In general, those notes needed a closer examination. Sigh.

  I glanced out my window balcony. The soft morning sunshine greeted me. I inhaled the sweet crisp air that permeated the vineyards and forest beyond. People were delivering items for the party, security was screening everyone, and people were setting special illumination around the gardens. The palace was crowded with a lot of activity.

  The day moved faster but not fast enough for me. My antechamber had become the center of stylists that pulled my hair one too many times and makeover specialists who ignored my plea to keep my eyeshadow on the light side by pretending to speak only French. I had so much makeup on my face, I felt ridiculous. I could say I had joined the circus.

  Francis had been busy in meetings with Nicholas. I suspected Francis had heard about last night’s prank, and Nicholas was still holding Gavril ransom, and things were not going to change any time before the ball.

  I was exhausted. The lack of sleep was zapping my day, so I asked everyone to leave so I could have an hour’s rest. They all nodded and left me alone. Enit brought me tea and something light to eat.

  “Enit, I can do the dressing tonight,” I told her

  “But the corset and the dress are too heavy,” she said. No kidding.

  “I am ditching the steel cage crinoline and half of the train and the corset. It’s better if you are not here to see the destruction,” I whispered as sort of a secret.

  “But—”

  “I promise, no one will notice the difference,” I assured her.

  “Fine. Those things are horrible anyway. Just make sure you leave the feathers intact,” she said.

  Once she left me alone inside my room, I sat to write a small letter for Francis in my blue bathrobe. I didn’t know how to begin.

  I wrote my apologies to him first, for not trusting him enough, then I explained, “Indeed, trust has been a great issue between us. But please know that I cannot risk Gavril’s life or accept marriage and the responsibility of the crown. I understand we don’t have many choices at the moment. So, this is my solution. You must accept my trade with Nicholas. I will trade my virtue for Gavril’s freedom. I must ask you to leave the palace as this is agreed upon and trust that Demyan Greco will take care of me after that. I wish for Gavril and you to be as far away from this place as possible. The plan is to have a great distraction at exactly five minutes before 11 p.m. where Mr. Greco will interrupt me from this situation. I will look for you as soon as I can. I trust you can figure a way to disappear. Please go with this plan.”

  I purposefully omitted telling him about Émil’s forewarning. I couldn’t say much except to ask him to do his part. Leave and never come back. I told him I would look for him after my escape. I lied.

  I still had one more matter I had to tend to before the party. I changed back into my black leggings. I had to head back to the center of the dungeons and then head east. As I went down the stairs, I slid my right hand over the center stone pillar, feeling a smudgy coarse film over the palm of my hand. I wiped it over my leggings. The stone must have had some mold growing over it.

  I ran inside the tunnels, avoiding splashing the icky water—which wasn’t sewer water, thank God—or stepping on the French rodents who seemed slow to move away from my path. The first thing that hit me as I approached his section was the nauseating smell. As I reached the door where Marcum was, I wanted to throw up my tea and food. I found some fortitude and my hand to pinch my nose. I wondered how long could I last until my next breath. I shook my head avoiding the horror of that thought and focused on the lock instead.

  My mind went inside the lock, examining and understanding the mechanical engrains. They were no different from what I had seen before in the other side of the dungeon. I moved the right engrain to click and unlocked his cell. I had to make this a quick rescue; the smell was unb
earable. He caught my scent and raised his red eyes to see me with a grin. I wondered how could he smell anything in this place.

  “We don’t have much time for questions. If I let you free, Marcum, will you hurt me?” I asked him, listening to his thoughts and avoiding the sight of his dead prey. His red eyes were indifferent, but his grin was speculative even amused. This was risky and dangerous. But I trusted my instincts and his mind.

  She healed me, and it wasn’t a delusion. I would never desecrate something so pure. She is the one. She is Astræa, the Star-Maiden. Why would she run such a risk with someone in my condition? I am not worthy of her, his mind thought. So, he understood far more than I expected. I realized I had to be very careful not to expose myself so much.

  “You would free me—now?” he asked, uncertain of my offer, rattling his chains and shackles.

  “Just if you promise not to harm anyone or me in the palace.” I paused, waiting for his answer. He was taking too long to think about it. Crap. In the meantime I was barely holding back from breathing. In his mind, he was debating on how to beat the crap out of the Count. I shook my head. He was not the only one, and I couldn’t blame him, but we couldn’t afford a different plan. Timing was important.

  “Look if you like your accommodations, that is fine with me.” I began to walk away, hoping to get a whiff of cleaner air.

  “I won’t harm anyone—for you. I would give my life to protect thee. But I must know what your conditions are first.”

  Now, we were talking business. I sighed with relief, and I wished I hadn’t—

  the smell was revolting. “Tonight, there is a ball in the palace, and I need you to help me set up a distraction for me to escape, but I don’t want you to get killed with all the security in the palace or for you to harm anyone,” I said.