Chapter 18
Chapter 18
It felt strange waking up and not hearing my mother's comforting hum in the kitchen or the chorus of roosters that accompanied the morning sun. I knew it would take time. Eventually, I would accept that I was a married woman.
There were times when I wondered if I could make a run for it and escape into the surrounding dense jungle, but it would have been suicide. Trapped on an estate that could rival any fairytale, the stories I heard as a girl all had happy endings. There was no leaving this tower.
Meroveo's men were always on patrol. Silent guards blended with the background. I wasn't used to seeing guns carried so openly.
I was never left alone, and yet, thankfully, I enjoyed the company.
Ines was like a sweet mother hen, always fussing over whether I'd had enough to eat and keeping watch over Yani. She always smiled, laughed, and cracked jokes, making me feel less lonely. After my first night, I ran into her early in the morning, my eyes swollen from crying myself to sleep. She said nothing, and Yani came to the room with fresh aloe to help relieve the swelling.
Naira kept a polite distance, handling the day-to-day operations. Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always served on time, and the house was always immaculate. Ines told me she'd been the head housekeeper here for over twenty years when Meroveo's grandfather was still alive. She'd been with the family most of her life. Naira ran a tight ship with the help of Ines, who balanced out her strictness.
Yani and I became fast friends after catching her trying to scare the peacocks that roamed freely on the vast grounds. She ran off to hide behind a tree but came out from hiding with a guilty grin when I fell to the floor laughing at her playful mischief.
I secretly wanted to join in, reminding me of times with Samara and Amias, our childish antics getting us in trouble.
Yani was eight and never spoke a word out loud. She was the niece of one of the men who worked for Meroveo. She was playful and shy and communicated through a small notebook and sign language, which she slowly began to teach me.
Yani showed me all the secret spots around Monteverde. She knew every inch of this place, including where to get the sweetest mangos and the small creeks and ponds scattered around. I loved the grove where we foraged for herbs and fed the wild chini monkeys in the surrounding jungles. They were small and friendly, tame enough to take food directly from your hand.
Unable to resist the call of any garden, I kept myself busy, avoiding thoughts of home, adding new discoveries to my journals of the blooming flowers, and learning the soil's temperament.
Intrigued by La garante, I became slightly obsessed, trying to find as much information as possible. I repeatedly searched my books and notes and found nothing on the obscure tree. The only information I found online was an outdated website with a brief description.
I sighed, placing down the current sketch of the tree, breathing in the scent of the flower in bloom. Yani picked up my book, flipping through the pages curiously. Her dark hair was braided in two plaits, and her round, girlish cheeks were framed by a soft bang over her forehead.
"La garanate, do you know anything about it, Yani?" I asked, scribbling it down on the writing pad.
Her eyes lit up with an idea. She looked around to make sure we were alone before pointing to the sketch of the flower, nodding her head, and smiling at me with a secret.
"Senora," Naira called out, her hawkish gaze watching us suspiciously from above the terrace."Lunch will be served in an hour," she announced, focusing on Yani with a frown, who hid behind me.
"Thank You, Naira," I smiled, dismissing her.
Yani waited until Naira was gone before her secretive smile returned, urging me to follow her. She led us through the many halls of Monteverde, a maze of twists and turns.
The secret entrance was hidden behind an old, weathered stone staircase. It was easy to miss if you didn't know it was there or what you were looking for. The pressure in the air changed as we descended the steps lit by dim lights. The air was colder, and the further down we went, the more we were surrounded by the scent of damp earth.
"Where are we going, Yani?" I whispered. Yani smiled sweetly, pulling my hand for me to follow.
We were met by large wooden doors with intricate images of a snake carved into the rich wood of a medieval seal. I pushed against the heavy door with a pounding heart, revealing a private study.
The scent of cigar smoke lingered faintly in the air, mixing with leather and aged wood. I circled the room, taking in the surroundings. It was spacious, with dark mahogany paneled walls and a polished hardwood floor. Oil paintings of art and landscapes hung on the walls behind a large, imposing desk dominating the room. Organized documents were laid out on the desk neatly, along with sleek pens that wrote smoothly and refined. A cigar box sat next to a crystal flask filled with deep amber liquid, next to an opened book of ancient philosophy.
I touched the mantle of the grand fireplace, admiring the craftsmanship as I watched the tiny embers burn in the hearth, quiet and subdued.
Yani tapped me on the back, eagerly pointing to the lines of the imposing bookshelves.
"I don't think we're supposed to be in here." I didn't understand why I felt the need to whisper. This place felt like a secret. Yani simply shrugged, eagerly pointing to the bookshelves.
"Thank you," A quick peek couldn't hurt. My fingers grazed the spines of the many volumes in his collection.
I was fascinated by the books spanning literary genres and time, including the Greek classics, philosophy and economics, linguistics, religion, and history. It offered a glimpse into the mind of the stranger I married.
An antique leather-bound journal stood out of place amongst the shelves. It was hard to make out the frantic handwriting written in old Spanish, retelling the accounts of strange incidents happening in the local villages hundreds of years ago. From what I could read, the author was documenting the unexplainable deaths and disappearances plaguing the people, blaming it on the supernatural. Symbols of veves were drawn on the delicate pages, powerful symbols that represented the old gods and spirits. I traced the sinuous lines and curves of the drawing resembling a serpent, trying to determine if the unsettling symbol was a talisman or a seal. I've never seen it used in any ceremonies I've attended. It had to be very old. The author never signed their name.
My eye wandered to the display case mounted on the wall above the fireplace, the sound of the wood and embers crackling, the fire slowly gaining strength.
A sword was locked away in a display case. The long steel blade was polished, highlighting the eerie glow of the razor-sharp edge and deadly pointed tip.
The hilt was wrapped in black leather, and the grip in diamonds.
As magnificent as it was, its beauty was overshadowed by the sinister aura it emitted. It was powerful and permeating. I felt a haunting whisper in my spirit, my body repelled by the invisible energy, imbued with something otherwordly and familiar. Its malignant touch slithered up my spine with hushed whispers of warning.
“La espada de los muertos.”
I jumped back at the sound of Meroveo's voice pulling me out of the sword's snare. The sword of the dead.
His lips curved into an amused smirk. "You and your accomplice. Have made yourselves at home." His calm tone did nothing to reveal his emotions.
Yani knocked over something in fright, popping up from where she hid with guilty eyes as she scurried away in a flash, leaving me alone with him.
"You're back already," I replied, trying to catch my breath. I did not hide my disappointment at his return. My thoughts focused on the easiest way to escape.
"You wear your emotions all over your face." His gaze moved up and down my body, lingering on my lips. The primitive glint in his eyes terrified me.
My knees trembled, knowing what his return meant.
"Tell me about the sword," I said, clearing my throat, trying to make the conversation a distraction.
"It's been passed down for generations in my family," his movements seemed innocent. They say it's cursed." He looked at the sword briefly, his eyes darkening with the same evil reflected in them. "Do you believe in curses?" he asked with a smile, making me feel like his prey. My body trembling, and the chills on my skin warm. He always made me feel like I was being hunted.
I do," I whispered angrily, looking away from him.I was cursed the day I met him.
"Very well, little Dove," he acquiesced, releasing me."You won't be able to run from me for much longer."