Jasmyn

by Alex Bell

  ‘Who?’ I said, startled.

  ‘I don’t know where it’s been hidden but . . . if you come back here at night then you’ll get a better idea.’

  ‘Who else will I lose?’ I said again. I certainly didn’t take what he’d said at face value but if he’d made it up to scare me then he’d succeeded. Death was much harder to deal with than I had ever imagined because it was so final and immovable and I hated having to be so young with so many years without him stretching out before me . . . The only thing I could take comfort in was that the person I loved most was already gone and - having happened once, it could not happen again. But there were still plenty of other loved ones still left . . .

  I shook myself a little, getting a grip, thinking it through. What Lukas had said didn’t make any sense. My family were all safely back home in England, I didn’t think it was even possible to steal a swan’s song and he was probably making the whole thing up to scare me anyway . . .

  ‘It’s the truth,’ Lukas said. He looked suddenly troubled and his expression - assuming it was genuine - unnerved me. He took a step forwards and, backed up against the lake, I couldn’t step away without ending up in the water. ‘Listen,’ he said quietly, taking hold of my elbows to stop me from walking away. ‘I don’t want to say too much. You wouldn’t believe me. But . . . something truly . . .’ He trailed off as if searching for the right word, then shook his head impatiently and said, ‘Something truly evil has happened here. Something more devastating than you can possibly realise. You think you’re in pain right now as a widow but - trust me - you don’t even know the half of it. It’s worse, it’s much worse than you think.’

  I shook him off, for the intensity in his eyes, not to mention the things he was saying, sent a chill down my spine.

  ‘You’ve obviously never lost the love of your life before,’ I said acidly. ‘Nothing’s more painful than that.’

  I moved past him towards the path leading back to the castle. I had been uneasy even before he had walked forwards and grabbed my arms but now I was even more conscious of the fact that I was here at the secluded lake completely alone with him - a man I knew had been stalking me in England and who had now followed me to Germany as well. It seemed prudent to get back to other people as soon as possible.

  But then Lukas said something that stopped me in my tracks.

  ‘You’ve already lost something else, something you didn’t even know you had.’

  My mind flew back to the times I had woken from dreams about swans to experience that strange, inexplicable sense of loss that was for something other than Liam. As if something was gone but I couldn’t remember what . . .

  ‘You’ve felt it, haven’t you?’ Lukas said as I turned back around, obviously realising from the expression on my face.

  ‘What else have I lost?’ The question tumbled from my lips and even I could hear the fear in my voice. I was desperate to find out and be rid of the terrible sensation. It was like knowing you’d forgotten to do something really important but having no idea what it was. ‘What is it?’ I asked again when Lukas didn’t reply, but merely stood there looking at me with a strange expression on his face. ‘Do you know?’

  ‘If you want to find out,’ Lukas said at last, ‘find the swansong. All I can say is that if you find it quickly enough, you just might be able to get back what’s gone. But you haven’t got much time left, Jasmyn. If you don’t find it - or if Jaxon gets there first - things are going to get even worse than they already are.’

  ‘How do you know all this?’ I asked, but he sidestepped the question completely.

  ‘Look at the time,’ he said with a sudden smile. ‘I’d better be going. Kini will be around though, keeping an eye on you. And there’s no need to lecture me about his wandering around loose again. He’s not an ordinary horse, you know.’

  And, without another word, he turned and walked away down one of the tree-lined paths around the lake. After hesitating for a few seconds, I hurried after him. But when I got to the mouth of the path there was no sign of Lukas or anyone else. I stared down the dark, dappled walkway stretching away before me. He couldn’t have disappeared that quickly - it wasn’t possible. And that could only mean that he had concealed himself amongst the trees, perhaps hoping that I would follow him out of sight where he could . . . do whatever he liked - after all, he was almost seven feet tall . . . But although I instinctively wanted to chase after him and insist on more answers, more explanations, I had watched enough horror films to know that you never set off down a dark, secluded path like that by yourself. So I turned on my heel and headed back towards the car, aware all the while of the horrible, unsettling sensation of unseen eyes burning into the back of my neck.

  12

  Travel Chess

  As soon as I got back to the car I phoned Ben to ask him to meet me at the guest house. Our conversation was brief and abrupt. He said he would get back as soon as he could but that - as he had to wait for a taxi - it might take a little while. His pointed tone clearly indicated that he wanted me to drive down and pick him up but I decided that if that was what he wanted then he was going to have to come out and ask - and politely too. And as he couldn’t bring himself to do that I just said, ‘Don’t worry. There’s no rush,’ and hung up on him.

  When I got back to the guest house he still hadn’t arrived so I went back up to my room. Ben would know that I was back because he would see the car, so I assumed he would knock on my door when he turned up. In the meantime, I took off my coat and unzipped my violin case to check on my Violectra. I felt nervous about leaving it alone in the room when I went out in case the unthinkable should happen and someone should steal it. It was, of course, insured, but that was not the point. I loved it for the smooth quality of its sound and the breathtaking beauty of its appearance but - most of all - I loved it because of where it had come from. I loved it for the fact that Liam had scrimped and saved to buy it for me, I loved it for the fact that he had been the one to pick out its colour and design, I loved it for being there with me at the funeral and for being here with me now. I loved it like an old friend - a precious relic from my previous life when I had been happy and everything had been okay.

  I took the skeletal thing out of its case and cradled it in my lap where I sat cross-legged on the floor - enjoying the familiar feel of it. Then I flipped open the compartment at the end of the case and took out the golden block of rosin, running my fingers over its smooth surface, breathing in the familiar scent - my favourite smell in the world, even more so than horses and saddle soap.

  I reached for the bow still in the case with the intention of running the block of rosin down it a few times, but my hand froze halfway there - for there was something else in my violin case. Something that had not been there before.

  Pinned between the bow and the soft interior was a thorny black rose. Slowly, I drew the bow out and laid it to one side, causing the rose to drop down into the main body of the case. I picked it up between thumb and forefinger, careful not to touch any of the thorns. It was identical to the one I had seen on the deck of the Queen Mary and when I lifted it to my face I could tell that it had the same sweet scent . . .

  ‘Where did you get that?’ a sharp voice said from the doorway.

  I jumped in alarm and almost dropped the rose. In my preoccupation with it, I hadn’t noticed the door opening behind me and when I turned around I saw Ben standing there, staring suspiciously at the flower in my hand.

  ‘I found it in my violin case,’ I said.

  ‘The violin case?’ he repeated, eyes narrowing even further.

  ‘Yes, it was pinned behind my bow.’

  ‘Let me see it,’ he demanded, already striding into my room.

  But before he could get to me, the rose disintegrated in my hand, just like the last time . . . Well, not quite like the last time. On the Queen Mary, the petals had all dropped off and then been carried away by the wind before the stem turned to dust. This time, the petals fell into
my lap and the thorny stem disintegrated as before, but when I looked down at the petals and gathered them up in my hand they were no longer petals, but small black feathers instead.

  ‘Those roses seem to keep on finding you,’ Ben said in an almost accusatory tone.

  ‘Hmm.’ I gazed down at the feathers in my hand, wondering what they meant.

  ‘Was that why you phoned me?’

  ‘No,’ I said, dropping the feathers to put my violin back in its case. ‘I wanted to talk to you about Lukas. I met him again at the castle. He’s the one I saw back in England on my grandparents’ estate - the one with the black horse.’

  ‘He’s here in Germany? What did he want?’

  I told Ben what Lukas had said about Ludwig and the magic swans and the enchanted swansong. He listened in silence until I said, ‘So? Have you heard any of that before?’

  He shrugged. ‘I’ve come across the myth that magical swans can enchant people with their song but I’ve never heard of their voices being taken away before. If it’s true it fits with what Liam told me. He said this object was proof that the swans were magical.’

  ‘Lukas said that if we didn’t find the swansong soon, I’d lose someone else.’

  ‘Did he now?’ Ben said evenly, raising one eyebrow just slightly.

  ‘Do you think he means someone will actually die?’

  ‘I have no idea,’ Ben replied. ‘But whether he’s telling the truth or not I think we’re agreed that we need to find this swansong, or whatever it is, quickly. If nothing else, to ensure that we get to it before Jaxon can find it and sell it.’

  I told Ben what Lukas had said about returning to Neuschwanstein after dark. In that moment I felt glad that he was with me for I would have been distinctly uneasy about going back to the castle at night on my own in case it was some kind of trap. Of course, I had no way of knowing that it wasn’t a trap and Ben coming with me didn’t mean it was necessarily safe. But still, the thought of returning was less frightening if he was going to be there as well. I remembered that he had talked about going to Neuschwanstein after dark himself that morning and said, ‘Why did you suggest it anyway?’

  He shrugged. ‘It’s the obvious thing to do,’ he said quietly. Then added, ‘Things change around Neuschwanstein at night, if the stories are anything to go by. With nothing else to go on, all we can do is retrace Liam’s footsteps for now.’

  After a brief hesitation, I decided to tell him about the other thing Lukas had said to me, about losing something I hadn’t even known I’d had. I was right on the verge of confiding to him the strange, unsettling feeling I sometimes got when Ben said coolly, ‘Aren’t you going to ask what I’ve been doing this morning?’

  ‘I know what you’ve been doing,’ I replied sharply. ‘Wasting your time.’

  ‘You’re not even a tiny bit curious about whether or not I found a mistress?’

  ‘No. Because I know there isn’t one.’

  ‘It must be nice,’ he grunted, ‘to trust someone so completely.’

  His tone didn’t match his words, for he spoke as if I was some kind of idiot. So I ignored him and said calmly - as if he hadn’t upset me at all, ‘I’m going to get some lunch.’

  It occurred to me as I walked past Ben and out through the door that, although he may not have found a mistress who could give us any information, he might have come across someone else - a receptionist or a waitress - who remembered Liam and could tell us something about what he’d done whilst he was staying here. I shouldn’t have been so quick to dismiss what he’d been doing that morning for he might have discovered something of value. But now I didn’t like to ask because . . . I had just told him I wasn’t interested . . . and to ask now would make me look like a fool . . .

  I shook myself impatiently. This was about Liam - looking a fool shouldn’t come into it. How could I possibly let something as petty as vanity have any influence over me now? I stopped in the corridor and turned around. Ben had followed me and was closing my door behind him.

  ‘So did you learn anything this morning?’ I asked.

  He seemed to take an almost malicious delight in the question and replied, ‘I thought you and Liam trusted each other from the very beginning!’

  I scowled at him with a sudden surge of dislike. It seemed that every time he had the chance to make things harder for me he did so.

  ‘You smug git!’ I snapped, fervently wishing I didn’t need him so that I could tell him to go to hell. ‘I don’t believe for a second that there was a mistress but you could still have found someone else who knew something. Besides, even if I didn’t trust Liam, I would know you hadn’t found another woman because if you had you would have rammed it down my throat the moment you saw me!’

  ‘You’re right about that!’ Ben said and - in that moment - he didn’t look like Liam one bit. He looked hard and cold and mean so that I could no longer see my husband in him at all. This was a stranger - a man I hardly knew . . .

  ‘Be very careful around Ben . . .’ Liam’s voice seemed to echo inside my head. ‘Sometimes he does things . . . without meaning to . . .’

  I had been letting myself feel safe with him but I mustn’t forget that Liam hadn’t trusted his brother, hadn’t wanted him in our lives, hadn’t even wanted him in the house. And there must have been a reason for that . . .

  ‘I think you’d better tell me why the two of you fell out,’ I said sharply, suddenly desperate to clear this up once and for all. ‘I need to know I can trust you!’

  To my surprise, Ben started to laugh. It seemed to burst from him against his will, until his shoulders shook and tears streamed down his face. I stared at him in alarm. I had never seen him like that before. And if he didn’t take a breath soon I thought he might suffocate. Death by laughing . . .

  Finally he took a great shuddering gasp of air, one hand on the wall to steady himself as he wiped away the tears and pulled himself together. Then his eyes met mine and I flinched at the look on his face - a horrible mixture of anger, contempt and bitterness.

  ‘At least that makes us even!’ he snapped. ‘Because I don’t trust you either! Not one bit!’

  ‘What possible reason could you have not to trust me?’ I shouted, not caring that we were in the corridor and people would hear us.

  ‘You’re—’ But then he broke off abruptly and shook his head. ‘Never mind,’ he said. ‘Forget it. I trust you. More or less. Let’s go and get something to eat.’

  And with that he strode past me towards the stairs as though the last few heated minutes had never happened. I thought about not following him but decided against it, for it would just make the situation worse. If we ate together - even in stilted silence - it might help clear the air and smooth things over between us. So I went down to the restaurant with him and - as I’d expected - Ben was in a dour, silent mood, picking grumpily at the food on his plate, looking out of the window rather than at me. When I asked him again if he’d learned anything useful that morning, he replied that the guest house down the road remembered Liam staying there but could tell him nothing useful. So I decided that he must be sulking because he’d wasted his morning and been proved wrong. Served him right for being so smug.

  I just wished I knew what he and Liam had fallen out about last year. It was eating away at me - a great weight on my mind. When Liam had been alive it hadn’t mattered much because we had never seen Ben anyway. But now I was here with him and I needed to know that I wasn’t somehow betraying Liam. They could have fallen out over any number of things, but I knew it had to be something serious because it had lasted so long and neither one of them wanted to tell me what it was about. The more I thought about it now, the stranger it seemed that Liam himself had refused to tell me. I could understand Ben not wanting to, as I was sure whatever had happened was his fault. But if Liam had been blameless it seemed strange that he had not told me about it and I suddenly had the uncomfortable feeling that, perhaps, he hadn’t been completely blameless after all . . .<
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  I looked out of the window to distract myself from such unwelcome thoughts and noticed a small group of horse riders passing the guest house in the light snowfall that had started - probably on their way back to the stable I had seen just down the road.

  ‘You had a horse-drawn carriage at your wedding, didn’t you?’ Ben grunted suddenly.

  ‘Yes,’ I replied vaguely, my mind going back at once to that magical day. The two grey horses had had ribbons in their manes and flowers tied to their livery . . .

  ‘How did you manage to talk him into that?’

  ‘What?’ I said, confused.

  ‘Liam,’ Ben said, gazing at me sullenly. ‘How did you talk him into the horses?’

  ‘I didn’t talk him into it. They were his idea.’

  ‘But he didn’t like horses.’

  I stared at him. He had said a couple of other things about Liam that had been incorrect but I had assumed that was because he’d not seen him for a year and so there were things that he had missed or - possibly - things that he’d forgotten. But Liam had always loved horses, right from when he’d been a little boy coming to spend the summer holidays with me at my grandparents’. Surely Ben must remember that. It suddenly occurred to me that perhaps Ben was not quite as balanced - or as stable - as he appeared to be.

  ‘He used to come and stay with me at my grandparents’,’ I said. ‘My grandfather taught him to ride.’

  ‘Oh, yes,’ Ben said, shaking his head as if impatient with himself. ‘I remember now.’

  Well, it had been twenty-odd years ago. Perhaps it wasn’t so very strange that Ben didn’t remember where Liam had been during the holidays.

  ‘Of course, if you’d been at the wedding you’d know he liked horses,’ I said, unable to keep some frost from creeping into my voice. I knew Liam had been disappointed that his brother hadn’t been there.