by Ally Shields
“I’m trying to explain, but you need to stay cool and not make any sudden moves. Lilith has a very itchy trigger finger.” Ari stood in the doorway, waiting for him to come to a decision.
“You come in here making accusations and waving guns and expect me to stay cool?” He finally stepped back and relaxed his stiff shoulders. “OK. I want to know what’s happened, so we’ll talk.” He waved them toward the table. “Have a chair, and a beer.”
Ari sat down across from him but ignored the beer.
“You don’t drink?”
“Only with friends, and I’m not sure what you are yet.”
He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Is your friend really going to stand there with those guns aimed at me?”
“Yes.”
He scowled. “Then let’s hear it.”
“A warlock attacked the vampire compound in my hometown of Riverdale. He admitted to being a Kirsch brother but refused to tell me which one. You’re very much alike, including your voices. That warlock was working for the O-Seven and was responsible for the murder of one of my best friends. Plus dozens of vampires, a police officer, and a scientist.” By the time she finished, her pulse pounded and energy sparked from her fingertips.
“Hell, no.” Gerhard shook his head in vigorous denial. “This can’t be true. Somebody fooled you. You’ve made a mistake.”
“I talked to one of you in Riverdale.”
Gerhard still shook his head, staring at the floor as if he couldn’t grasp what he’d heard. Ari was just cynical enough to think he was a damn good actor.
“Warin has always been difficult, but I never dreamed… Tell me all of it.” He frowned at her. “You can’t really think I’d be a part of this.”
“I don’t know you that well.” In fact, she didn’t even know if he was Gerhard. The more she looked at him she realized Sophie was right. The differences she’d seen were mostly based on the brothers’ behavior. If they’d been faking, she didn’t know who was who. She searched his face and hands for some distinguishing feature and noticed a tiny scar above his right eyebrow. It looked old.
She pulled out her cell phone and dialed the hospital, asking to be put through to Sophistrina. When the priestess answered, Ari asked her about the scar.
“It’s Gerhard all right. He got the scar in a fall when we were kids.”
“Thanks, that’s all I need for now. I’ll call you back when I can.” Ari hung up before the woman started asking questions.
“Satisfied?” Gerhard had regained his composure.
“For now.” She turned to Lilith. “You can put away the guns. At least I know who I’m talking to.” She cocked her head. “So where’s Warin?”
Gerhard waved a casual hand. “You seem to know more about his whereabouts than I do. He left here five days ago. Said he was making a short business trip. Didn’t say where, and I haven’t seen him since.”
She made a small disparaging noise in her throat.
“You think I’m lying? Why?” he protested. “Warin and I don’t report to each other. I almost wish we did. I might have some clue what he’s doing.”
“You didn’t know his loyalties had changed?”
“To the vampires?” He sat forward abruptly. “Hell, no. I’d have killed him myself.”
He sounded like he meant it, but was he a little too adamant? “Where have you been the last few days?”
“Right here. I was at a symposium in Frankfurt for a couple of days. You can check if you like.” He got up, retrieved a brochure from the kitchen counter, and threw it on the table.
Ari handed it to Lilith. “Can you check that out while we finish chatting?”
“Sure. The number’s right here, so it should be easy.” Lilith grabbed her cell phone and walked into the next room, keeping them in sight through the doorway.
Ari turned back to Gerhard. “And since the conference?”
“Here. Working on a paper for the Warlock Quarterly.”
“Alone, I assume. With no one to vouch for you.”
He snorted in derision. “Hardly enough time to get to the US and back.”
“Maybe.” Unless he’d teleported.
Lilith interrupted their conversation, waving her cell phone. “He was at the Frankfurt meeting. Both days.”
Gerhard’s gave her a smug look. “See? Now do you believe me?”
“I believe you were in Frankfurt.”
Gerhard shifted in his chair and rubbed his chin. “Tell me more about this incident in the States. I still can’t believe he would hurt people.”
Watching his face, she laid out some of the details. He denied knowing Bartole, gave all the appropriate answers, showed all the right reactions. She still wasn’t convinced.
When she finished, Gerhard stood and got another beer from the fridge. “My brother has been hiding his life from me. I never imagined he had that kind of power. I knew he’d dabbled in black magic, but teleportation…” He closed his eyes and rested his forehead briefly against his fist. “The spell, the killings. How could my brother be responsible for that? How could any single warlock have that kind of power? But you say you talked to him?”
“To one of you.”
He shot her a swift glance, but didn’t comment on her correction. “He’s got to be out of his mind.” He crossed to the window and gazed outside. “How can I help? He must be stopped.”
“I think he’s inside the vampire stronghold. Do you know a way to get inside?”
“I wish I did.” His focus remained on the scene outside. “These woods are filled with spies, and the numbers increase close to the castle. The gates are guarded at all hours.”
“I heard there’s a tunnel.”
“The troll tunnel?” He cut off a laugh. “A fairy tale. No one has ever found it.” He turned away from the window. “How’d you hear about it?”
“Sophistrina.”
“How is she? I heard about the attack and that she was injured.”
And conveniently he’d been out of town. “She’s doing OK, but it’s going to take the coven quite a while to recover.” She didn’t mention Sophie’s pending release. The less the warlock knew, the better.
“I should visit her.” He finished the beer and set the empty on the counter. “I could offer to help with the coven while she’s recuperating.”
Ari wasn’t so sure Sophie would welcome him, and she certainly wouldn’t want his help. Until they knew which brother was the traitor, each brother would be persona non grata. She brought the conversation back to the tunnel. “Who might know more about this underground passage?”
“I suppose you could check at the troll market. They don’t like strangers much, so don’t be surprised if they snub you. You’d be wasting your time, but I can take you.”
“Directions will do. There’s no need to take up your time.”
“Still don’t trust me, huh?” Gerhard shrugged. “Your choice. I have my own work to do.” He wrote down the directions, even drew a map, and handed Ari the paper. “If you locate my brother or a way to get into Castle Verdammung, you may want my help. Call me. I wouldn’t attempt to go alone.”
“Verdammung?”
“It’s the name locals call the stronghold. Loosely translated, it means damnation or doom.”
“That’s just creepy,” Lilith said.
Gerhard’s gave her a wry look. “You Americans are so prone to understatement.”
* * *
It was dark, much too late for an outdoor market to be open, so Ari and Lilith found a motel room and settled in for the night. While Lilith watched TV, Ari spent almost an hour talking with Claris by phone, reliving the memorial and the day’s events, and sharing silent tears. Steffan and Ryan had stayed by Claris’s side throughout the church and cemetery services. Ari didn’t know how she could ever thank them enough. Mangi had been a constant shadow that everyone had gradually accepted as a more or less permanent fixture.
Ari wiped her cheeks when they finally h
ung up and wandered over to peer out the window. A sliver of moon winked at her from a clear night sky. Was Brando up there somewhere? Could he still see the friends he’d left behind? She lifted a hand to still her trembling chin. Maybe he could watch over Andreas for her.
* * *
The troll market was busy at 9:00 a.m. the following morning, teeming with bridge trolls, the squat creatures that resembled hairless dwarves, and intermingled with an occasional tree troll, their much larger cousins. The tree trolls were seven foot plus, pushing three-hundred-fifty pounds, with square chests and long elephant-like legs. Lilith had been alarmed when she first saw the huge creatures.
“I hope they don’t mind us being here. They wouldn’t need weapons to squash us like bugs.” Lilith balked at leaving her guns in the car, but Gerhard had warned them that weapons weren’t allowed in the market. Ari locked them in the glove compartment and added her Walther with equal reluctance. She was getting rather fond of the pistol.
“So far no one’s paid much attention to us.”
Colorful vendor stands of bright yellows, oranges, and green formed a large circle with a small hub at the center, which included a grog tent. Considering the singing from the tent’s patrons, the traditional water and rum drink must be heavy on the rum-side. Contrary to the hands-off treatment they were given by most of the trolls, the tent’s occupants encouraged Ari and Lilith to join the fun. Ari smiled but shook her head. A little too early for alcohol, but the smell of freshly baked bread lured her to another tent, where she bartered with the handful of coins in her pockets.
Munching on two ample hunks of the pretzel-like bread, they strolled around the rest of the circle, examining the merchandise and asking about a troll named Grogan. No one admitted to having heard the name. Although they weren’t making any progress in their inquiry, the market was interesting. The stands sold everything from jellies to blankets to tree troll shoes made of flat boards that looked very uncomfortable. Ari noticed most of the trolls were barefoot.
“I don’t think they’re going to tell us anything.” Lilith sounded resigned. They’d almost reached the spot where they’d entered the market. “Shall we visit the grog tent? Loose lips and all that.”
“It’s worth a try, but I’m not really going to drink that stuff.”
“Well, I plan to sample my share. Why not?”
Ari chuckled. “I can think—” She whipped around at the scream. “What’s that?”
“It sounded like a child.”
A second scream, then a third. They ran toward the sounds, mingling with the trolls who had also responded. A short path led them to edge of a crumbling cliff edge. A large chunk of the mountain had eroded at some point in the distant past, leaving a slope of loose shale leading to a ledge protruding over the forest below. A young troll—Ari couldn’t tell whether it was a boy or girl since both wore baggy leather outfits similar to coveralls—had fallen over the edge and onto a second ledge fifteen feet below. The child clung to a straggly bush and looked up at them in mute fear. Other children still on top of the cliff had done all the screaming.
The bridge trolls were too small and the tree trolls too heavy to attempt a rescue without ropes or ladders. Runners were quickly sent to bring equipment. But the child’s situation was too precarious to wait. Ari thought she was light enough to get down there. She was figuring out how she could get the child back up, when Lilith bounded past her in her furry form.
The lioness landed lightly on the ledge next to the child, grabbed the back of the coveralls in her massive jaws, and leaped for the top. Her jump was short. She’d miscalculated the added weight of the troll child, and she scrambled for leverage. The loose shale shifted under Lilith’s feet, and she began to slide. The watching crowd alternately gasped and cheered as the lioness struggled. Using whipcord muscles, she bounded over the unstable surface, finally bringing her bundle to safety. Setting the child at Ari’s feet, Lilith loped into the forest to shift back into her human self. Unlike the wolves, lions came back fully clothed in whatever they’d been wearing, but the process was still unpleasant to watch.
“Are you OK?” Ari crouched to comfort the frightened child.
Before the young girl could answer, three adult tree trolls pushed through the crowd. The two in the lead swept up their daughter, exclaiming in big, rumbling voices over her scraped knees, her recklessness, and their delight in seeing her. They thanked Ari several times, and when Lilith reappeared they turned their gratitude upon her. The mother even drew Lilith into a crushing embrace.
Eventually, the family and the congratulatory crowd began to migrate toward the market area. The third adult tree toll, who’d arrived with the parents, stayed behind.
“Thank you for helping my niece. Peyta is precious to us.” His heavily accented voice was deep with a slight echo, as if he spoke from the bottom of a barrel. “You asked for me. My name is Grogan.”
Chapter Eleven
Ari looked up. And up. Grogan was tall. Probably pushing seven and a half feet.
“What do witch and lion want with troll?” he asked.
Ari was just as direct. “I need to get into Castle Verdammung. I was told you might know about a tunnel.”
The giant troll laughed; his voice boomed. “Ha. Ha. Good joke. No one goes to Verdammung, except friends of vampires or those who wish to die. Which are you?”
“Neither. They’re holding our friend, and we intend to free him.”
The troll regarded her with serious eyes. “Your friend is doomed. How do you think fortress got its name? Too bad. Lion friend has done a kindness today, but would not be right to take you place where you die.”
“Then there is such a tunnel?” Ari barely contained her excitement.
“Shaft, high in mountains go to tunnel. Old. Before vampires. Not used now. Not for long, long time.”
“But it still exists. Have you been inside?”
“Ja. But I am troll. Not safe for strangers. Parts are blocked, collapsed.”
“What if you took us?” Lilith cocked her head, and her coaxing tone seemed to be a subtle reminder of his debt to her.
Grogan let out a heartfelt sigh that rumbled from his big chest and stirred the air around him. “Come. We will talk.”
An hour and a half later, Ari and Lilith had been watching Grogan smoke his enormous full bent pipe for at least twenty minutes. He had led them to the rear of the grog tent on the market square, entering a separate section that was sealed off from the public sales area by a solid wood partition. He sat on a grass mat on the floor and demanded to hear everything from beginning to end. After Ari and Lilith chose their own grassy pads, Ari tried to keep her story brief, but Grogan asked numerous questions and the telling took quite a while.
She’d tried to gauge his reaction. “If I have a way into the castle, I know I can come up with a rescue plan. Just show me the entrance to the tunnel. I’ll make a quick trip inside and come back later with additional help.”
Grogan had murmured, “Strange story,” picked up his pipe, and lit it. After five minutes of watching him puff, Ari ventured to ask what he’d decided. He’d replied, “I am thinking.” They hadn’t heard a word since.
During the long wait, Ari’s mind had begun to wander, envisioning what things might be like inside the fortress. It was barren and foreboding from the outside. Was it the same within or had the vampires built in modern conveniences? Was Andreas being held in a dungeon? A picture formed in her head of a long hallway lighted with torches, then the image was gone. She straightened. It was as if…but she hadn’t felt a magical surge, and Andreas would be in his sleep cycle. Just her imagination filling in the blanks. Wasn’t it?
“Do you think we’re supposed to just sit here?” Lilith suddenly whispered in her ear. “I’m getting hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“Food in bin.” Startled, Ari and Lilith turned to stare at the troll. He pointed to a covered basket. “Eat. I will have answer soon.”
Deciding there was no way to hurry him, Ari did as he suggested. Opening the basket they found more of the delicious bread they’d eaten earlier, which appeared to be a staple for the trolls. They shared a large chunk and were discussing the possibility of finding something to drink, when Grogan stood and set his pipe aside.
“I show you tunnel now. Come. You must remember path for your return. I will not help attack the damned ones.” Following this pronouncement, Grogan strode out of the tent and headed toward a path into the woods. Ari and Lilith raced to keep up with him. For all his bulk, the tree troll was fast on his feet.
The trio wound higher up the mountain. He finally stopped at a pile of huge boulders, put his massive arms around the largest, and grunted a little while lifting it several feet to the right. His efforts exposed a sizable dark hole. Reaching inside, Grogan produced a lantern, switched it on, and led the way through the opening. Although Grogan ducked to enter, the tunnel immediately became high enough to accommodate his extra inches. He retrieved two flashlights from a wooden crate set against the wall and handed them to Ari and Lilith.
Clearly the tunnel was used more often than Grogan had suggested. The flashlights and lantern were giveaways that someone came here regularly. The tunnel itself was unlike anything Ari had seen before. The earth-packed walls were tall like the trolls and had no visible supports. What was keeping them from falling?
The narrowness of the path forced them to walk single file, and Ari was glad to have her own light. She played it warily over the earthen walls, looking for cracks, then kept it on the path at her feet. The walls loomed closer, and her hands turned clammy, her breathing shallow. An image flashed through her head of walls moving inward, the ceiling lowering. She stopped, wiped sweat from her face with her sleeve. Claustrophobia. She hadn’t had an attack since childhood, but she’d never been this deep in the earth without solid rock or wooden beams around her. She took a deep breath, shook off the feeling, and kept moving. Her breathing finally steadied.
