Spell of the Dark Castle (Chronicles of Zofia Trickenbod Book 2)

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Spell of the Dark Castle (Chronicles of Zofia Trickenbod Book 2) Page 47

by Lorelei Bell


  She gazed back at him, feeling the room wanting to spin right out from under her. She fought it best she could and gripped the back of a chair. “So, this is the way we stay?” She bit back her tears. Goddess, she couldn't show him how much it hurt her right now. Her hand began to hurt—the one that gripped the chair. She changed hands. Then placed both on the wood and felt her nails dig in, imagining it was Dorian's flesh.

  “What more is there?”

  “What am I to do?” she barked. It was difficult to keep herself from crying. The indignation and hurt he'd caused her was tearing her apart. People had witnessed his giving her to Stephen. A public divorce was the worse in every way because if there was any way to reconcile, they would have to go public again. But she didn't think it would come to that. Not now. Not the way he was acting.

  “It's for the best,” he said almost gently. “You're a Knight, now, Zofia. You'll do alright, I'm thinking.” He made another soft snort. “Hell, your beauty alone could make a guy fall in love and babble anything to you, you won't have to spell him.”

  He was talking work and money, the two things that were important to him. Meanwhile her heart was breaking at the thought he really was this crass, and their divorce was quite final as far as he was concerned.

  Unable to bare this new emotional overload, she twirled away, hands clutching her hot, tear-stained cheeks. She couldn't believe this was happening.

  “By the way,” he said, still in that quiet, calm tone. “This came by night hawk.”

  Sniffling, she turned to see him holding a large envelope. She caught sight of the golden seal of Restormell Castle on the back, her name written plainly in large, slashing letters on the front. Stephen had returned her a letter. But she didn't know if it was from her first one, or the one she'd sent with Biddle.

  “Oh!” She surged across the room to take it from him, but his glinting expression made her stop just short. “A lot of things have happened since I arrived. I've sent Biddle with one very long letter about it all. I need to know if he made it.” She wanted to explain her excitement over the letter. Now, after what she'd seen down below, there had to be a truce struck between them. She had to put all her personal issues with Dorian aside. He too. It took all she had to suck it in. I will not cry… I will not cry! He was a fellow Knight—a commander. In fact, he was her superior in the field, according to what little she'd read in The Knight's Code Book.

  “I'm sure it's quite important,” he said, his stoic business face in place.

  “It is,” she said, re-energized by what she had to impart. “I was attacked while staying in the Nest.”

  Leaning against the stone of the fireplace with arms folded, one leg lazily crossed the other. Sapphire eyes steady, he studied her. “Go on.”

  “By a rogue wizard. And I know who it is now.”

  “Who?”

  She gnawed on her lower lip, gauging his emotionless face. “Gardner. Phineas Gardner.”

  There was a slight glimmer in his eyes, but he remained unemotional. “How did he attack you?”

  She had expected a little more from him, really. A bit of surprise registering on his face, at least. But he was ever the Knight, through and through.

  “I was in bed, and he tried to take me. I zapped him. He Evanished. Also, two vampires have tried to take me one night, over at Raven's Inn. But just today I learned something else. The other two Knights who were with you that last time you were here five years ago, are with Phineas.”

  “Garrison, and Keeler?”

  “Yes. Plus, they have someone else with them. They brought him from First World, just now through a portal. He's going to help them in some sort of ritual.” She moved toward him. “They know who I am, now. That I'm your wife,” she managed to say evenly, and even managed to not grab a handful of shirt, while everything inside her screamed for her to do so. Goddess, she felt so alone and vulnerable. “They were the ones who opened up the Portal in our backyard, on First World.”

  “I've been trying to track them. First time I've gotten close in days. Where did you last see them?”

  “Down below the castle,” she said, hand stretching outward in the general direction.

  “Below? In the menhir? How did you manage to get down there?” He sounded slightly impressed and at the same time jealous.

  “Earlier today I was with Saint Germain, in his personal library, speaking to him. After I left I heard this huge sound. When I returned to the library, he was gone, and I was suddenly sucked into the Portal and transported somewhere down in the bowels of the castle, deep inside the menhir. It was a strange place, with a lot of odd, and big—no—huge things. Lots of different machines, plus his Portal machine—it's a huge organ.”

  “Organ?” He sounded confused.

  “You know, the musical thing with the keys?”

  “Oh, yes. Go on.”

  “I was on a catwalk, right above them, and I could hear everything they said.”

  “They?”

  “Phineas and the others. They were there as I popped in on them. I was right above them, well hidden. I heard pretty much everything they said.”

  “Can you find this room again?”

  “Maybe.”

  Dorian's expression was tight as cat gut on a guitar as he strode the room, then pulled up beside the sitting nook. “Why would he go after you?”

  This was the first real emotion Dorian had shown since he'd come to her room.

  “Maybe he has some personal vendetta to settle with you?” she offered.

  He made that scoffing noise again. “You think?”

  “How does he know who I am?” she asked.

  “Believe me, he would know. Tell me what you overheard.”

  “Well, they brought back this guy named Cagliostro, I'm certain he's an alchemist from Saint Germain's time. That's about all I know about him.”

  “Time? You mean era?”

  “Yes.”

  “Which is?”

  “Eighteenth century, First World.”

  “Both Ugwumps? And they're still alive?” Finally, he now looked flabbergasted.

  She nodded.

  “How?”

  “Alchemists. Philosopher's Stone. Something called Elixir of Life.”

  “Wicked. Go on. What was Phineas saying? You said you over heard him?”

  “Phineas was saying something about a ritual to call upon some god, or a demon. But I've never heard the name before. Started with an A.”

  “You're not sure which?”

  “What?”

  “God, or demon,” he clarified.

  “I don't know. I think a god. Why?”

  “There's a big difference.”

  She rolled her eyes. “I know that.”

  He went into his pacing and recited what he knew about demons and gods. “A demon needs a sacrifice, a god, depending upon his alignment, needs an offering, if they are good; sacrifice if they're bad. Come on, Zofia, that's basic Ceremonial Magic. You know this.”

  Eyes closed, she remembered. “Offering,” she said, then added, “and sacrifice.”

  “Both?”

  “It sounded like either way the offering wouldn't make it through the ordeal with him.”

  “What is the offering?”

  “Me.”

  Now Dorian's eyes bulged, just a weensy bit. “YOU?”

  “Yes. Me. I told you he tried to abduct me. I didn't know why until today.”

  Dorian became quiet again, going into his thinking mode; blue gaze down, fixed to the floor, fingers rubbing the roughness of his beard at his chin and jaw. The sandpapery sound went through her. She knew how his beard would feel against her skin. This thought fluttered around for a moment until she realized her thoughts were sabotaging her need to keep her emotions under control.

  “What did you say the name of the god was?” his words interrupted her thoughts.

  “I didn't. It began with an A. Must be an ancient god. One that his cult must worship.” She paused, won
dering if she should tell him what else Phineas had said.

  “Was it Apep?” Dorian asked.

  Amazed, she nodded. “Yes! How did you know?”

  “It's an ancient god, and quite evil. Brought here from First World. More demon than god—at least for humans and wizards alike. In fact no one on First World had ever worshiped him. But, here, The Fraternal Order of the Egyptian Lodge does.” He leaned against the wall of the cubby, flopped an arm across the flat stone top, letting his hand hang loosely while the other worried the carved handle of his wand.

  “Gardner was assigned to inspect this group, five years ago,” he began. “Gardner was the head Knight originally assigned. Garison and Keeler were his back-ups, and they were called in. When contact was cut off on their end, I was sent to check up on them.”

  “Because you're a commander.”

  “Yes,” he said distractedly. “That was five years ago.”

  “I know,” she said. “You said that.”

  “I've been trying to remember what happened. All this time that's passed and I can't bring it all back. But I know that somehow they were part of the whole scheme. Gardner's plot to undermine the Witenagemont was expanding quicker than we'd thought. He hasn't succeeded as yet. Possibly, he hasn't found the right ritual to bring Apep into power; to extract him from his abyss.”

  “I think he does now,” Zofia said, causing him to arch his eyebrows at her, although she couldn't see them for the forest of hair over his brow. “They brought Cagliostro to our planet for a reason. There seemed to be works that he alone possesses, maybe the ritual itself.” She felt chill bumps go up her arms, realizing that she was a target for them, their offering/sacrifice to Apep. “Your turn to explain. Phineas wanted to sabotage the Knights? Why?” she wanted to know. This was something left out of her 'briefing' with Stephen. She felt he should have told her about this part.

  Flicking a shoulder, Dorian brought the arm back up to rest on the wall. “He's into chaos.”

  “You know more than you're saying,” she accused, knowing his stalling tactics well.

  He shrugged again.

  “I'm a Knight, now. You can't keep things from me, like you used to. I need to know.”

  She saw the resignation on his face. “You're right. Perhaps you should know all that I know. It might help keep you alive.”

  “Gosh, thanks for caring,” she said with a sarcastic air. “It's like I'm in a theater, and everyone is laughing, but they're laughing at me because my dress hem is stuck in my panties showing my butt to the world.”

  Dorian gave her a troubled glare, then, as if dismissing her words as one who is quite mad went on to explain. “This society prizes something called 'Letters to the Dead', written on papyrus. You ever see anything like that?”

  “No.”

  “Well, at some point, somehow, Gardner either found it, or produced it himself. That's all I remember about it, from back then. And after this is when he and the other two vanished. They went underground.”

  “I'll say. I think they've been living beneath the castle, down inside the cavernous menhir, right below us, undetected. Probably ever since then.”

  “Yes. They've been holding secret lodgings somewhere inside. I can't find my way into the menhir. You have to help me,” he said.

  “Not until you tell me everything you know about this Apep, and the Lodge,” she said, folding her arms again.

  Resigned, he took a breath and let it out raggedly. “Very well,” he said and began to pace the room while he talked. “Apep is an old First World god of the Egyptians,” he began. “It's the very same creature as what we call the Helsingas.”

  Zofia's mouth unhinged at that. Helsingas stood ten to fifteen feet tall, when they stood up like men. With heads and tails like crocodiles, and bodies of men, they ate meat, exclusively. Sometimes cooked, but not always. They ate whatever they desired, without preference, and so humans as well as animals where their prime dining pleasure. That was why the Immortals had to eradicate them from this world before this world could be inhabited. But if there was a god of the Helsingas, she didn't want to fathom his size at all.

  Throat going dry, she searched for her pitcher of water. Locating it, she poured herself a glass and drank half of it before she could relate the rest of what Phineas had said. Dorian eyed her, but said nothing, waiting for her to go on.

  “Phineas said I was to be for Apep's amusement.”

  “Amusement? I thought you were his offering,” he made the argument, eyes squinting at her, now.

  Turning with the glass in hand, she made her way back toward him. “Offering. Sacrifice. Amusement. What's the difference?” she huffed.

  “An offering is something that's ingested, or used somehow. Amusement? That's something entirely different. And we all know what a sacrifice is. What exactly did he say, Zofia? I have to know!” His voice had become louder. She held her free hand up, hushing him as her eyes flashed toward the door as though she could see through it.

  “He said I wouldn't last under Apep's tool—he said it just like that, too,” she said low, feeling a dread fill her.

  Dorian's head twisted away, looking as if in thought. But after a few heartbeats, she could tell what she'd told him had hit him a little harder than he'd wanted it to. He was hiding his face from her, hiding his emotions from her. Well, now she didn't have to wonder. He still harbored some deep emotion for her.

  When he brought his head up, sooty hair obscured his face, one eye peered out through the dark curtain until he shook it out of his eyes. “How do I get down to that secret room?” he growled.

  “Go out my door, turn right, follow the corridor to the end. Don't take any stairs, or any other hall,” she said, watching as he made for the door in an eerily, and very un-human sort of way. It was almost as if he were still a vampire, that's how strangely he'd moved.

  “Right?” he said at the door, hand on the door handle, the other pointing right.

  “Yes. Hey!” she stopped him. He looked back at her.

  “Why would Phineas want me as an offering?”

  “I don't know. Maybe to get back at me.”

  “For what?”

  “For ratting him out. I was the one who suspected him in the first place. He was under my scrutiny.”

  She nodded with mute understanding. He turned back to the door, and tried the knob.

  “It's locked,” he said, throwing a look of annoyance at her.

  “I know,” she said, just as annoyed.

  “Open it!” He moved away from the door.

  Wizards! Rolling her eyes, she aimed a finger at it. “Twizzle!” The lock disengaged. Dorian grabbed it, and opened it, just enough to peer out into the hallway.

  “Wait!”

  “What?”

  She clicked her tongue at his annoyance again. “You don't even know what you're looking for.”

  “And you do, I suppose?”

  “Bookcase, left of the fireplace. I don't know how it's opened.”

  “Don't need that.” He held up that gold thing that held the Portable Portal.

  She nodded. “Right.”

  He turned, pointing. “Right. Where is Saint Germain?”

  “Gone,” she replied in a stage whisper. “Shopping, I'm sure, somewhere on First World.”

  He shut the door halfway, looking at her for a beat. “So what are you doing here? You didn't answer that.”

  “Me? I'm here as an Ugwump library clerk. Cataloging his library for him.”

  “Like old times,” he mused.

  “Yeah. Just like old times. Only I was never an Ugwump, I didn't have vampires wanting to bite me at every turn, or a rogue wizard wanting to snatch me for some crazy spell. And Speaking of First World, where did you get that outfit?” she asked, pointing at him while scrutinizing him.

  “Immaterial, and unimportant,” came his stanch reply as he sailed out the door. Zofia leaned out the door and watched him stride down the hall.

  “Hey, don't
forget there's other people in this castle.”

  “You mean the English butler, and the little Arpiesian guy?”

  “Yeah.” He didn't miss a thing.

  “Already checked them out,” he said, making a wave as he went, not looking back. “I didn't make commander for nothing, you know.”

  “Wait, Mr. Commander!”

  This caused Dorian to turn about, and stomp back toward her. He pulled up before her and said in a huff, “What now?”

  “What am I to do? I mean, now that you're here?”

  “You do what you've been sent as a Knight to do.”

  She nodded.

  “Keep Saint Germain interested in you.”

  “Interested in me?”

  Eyes slid shut and he did the breathing thing again. Opening them, he said, “Look. I can't be with you. Do you understand? I can't protect you. It can't be like it was before.”

  Okay, teary-eyed now.

  “But—”

  His hand reached for her arm, his warm fingers circled it firmly. His touch felt comforting this time, not hurting her, even though she knew there was nothing behind it. It was simply the man trying to keep her from panicking.

  “I'm here trying to find out what Phineas and the others are up to, and stop him if I can. That's my job, you do yours.”

  She strove to keep a strong outer shell, but was losing it quickly.

  “Read the letter from Stephen. He'll have something important to tell you, no doubt.”

  She'd forgotten all about that. Nodding, she could feel her emotions rising to the surface. She bit her lip gingerly against the tears that were forming. I will not cry. Damnit!

  “Look, I didn't want to tell you this, but now that I think it over, I'd better warn you about Gardner. He's a top-notch wizard. One of the best, but his brains are scrambled. He's deranged. Dangerous is just a word when it comes to Gardner.” A long finger of warning shook in front of her face. “Stay out of the place you just described to me. Promise.”

  “No problem.”

 

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