Chapter 9 #2
The house looks much grander when I am standing directly in front of it on the gravel path.
There are three floors with small wooden framed windows all along its length and big floor to ceiling glass on the bottom level of both of the towers.
The apex of each tower holds a beautiful stained glass window, as does the large window spanning from the second to the third floor in the centre of the house.
I would bet that is where the staircase leads within its walls and can imagine the beautiful colours washing the whole interior in rainbow as the sun sets.
The large front door is made up of a sturdy dark wood with large iron bolts and curved, elaborate iron handles.
A smartly dressed man with dark skin and tightly curled hair is standing in front of the bottom of the steps, waiting for us.
His face is bleak and stern and I guess that this must be Nerius, awaiting our arrival.
How he got here so much quicker than us and looking clean and well rested is beyond me.
“He is waiting for you in the study. Garr you will do, the rest of your ilk may skulk off somewhere,” Nerius says with his chin lifted high and his nose crinkled at the gathered vargs.
“You heard him, to the kitchen lads,” Garr chuckles as he dismisses the others. He grabs onto the back of my neck and gives me a shove, causing me to stumble in front of Nerius.
“A pity,” Nerius says, looking down at me with one eyebrow raised, then stepping ahead to lead the way into the house.
Garr takes up the rear as we walk in single file.
Nerius swings open the huge double doors sending a gust of deliciously spiced aroma coming from within the house into our faces.
It smells of crackling fires and winter baking, even though it is the middle of an extremely hot summer.
As we step inside, we are met with an open foyer with high ceilings that open up to a red velvet-lined staircase directly across from the front door. I tilt my head, taking in the grandeur of the space, noticing the many doors lining the halls on each of the floors.
Nerius directs us through a set of doors to the left which opens up into what I believe is called a drawing room, a term also gleaned from my mother’s period piece romance movies.
The walls are painted a dark red, with matching red, straight-backed, uncomfortable looking sofas and elaborate red rugs that partly cover a hardwood floor.
There is a low table set in between the sofas in front of a large, white stone fireplace.
An enormous painting of the wolf headed king standing next to Pyralis sits proudly on top of the mantel.
I can now confirm that the menacing figure in my vision was indeed this same king and try not to shudder at the memory.
In the far right corner there is another door which we are being guided to.
Nerius pauses before giving it one swift knock.
“Enter,” a deep voice replies. I can’t avoid my audible gulp.
Nerius opens the door and walks in ahead of us to announce our arrival.
We step into the room and I can see a fierce looking man in his forties, with close cut, red hair sitting in a high back leather chair behind a large mahogany desk.
He has a well-groomed beard and a face that is all sharp angles.
He looks as if he wouldn’t know the meaning of a smile.
The room itself must be the bottom level of the tower because I notice the floor to ceiling bay windows, and I wonder if there is a hidden staircase somewhere in this room.
I look around but all I can see are walls lined with books and Pyralis’ large desk with two smaller leather chairs sitting in front of it.
I wonder what the nature of his work is and catch the smallest glimpse of maps spread over his desk.
“I present you Garr and…?” He turns to me, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh, uh, Nuria,” I say, bowing at the waist. I realize a moment too late that the bow is silly. I straighten up clumsily, already blushing.
Pyralis momentarily has a look of shock on his face as I step up to Nerius’ side, which turns into a smile I can’t quite read but it makes me decidedly uncomfortable.
He stretches his hand over his desk as if he wishes to shake my hand and I look at Nerius in confusion.
Nerius widens his eyes and gives me a swift nod so I step up to the desk and grasp Pyralis’ hand, giving him a swift shake.
His hand is so hot it nearly burns me but I swallow the yelp I feel bubbling up my throat and dip my chin before stepping back to my place beside Nerius.
That was strange, perhaps a show of dominance?
“And Miss Nuria is the sister of our… target, Master,” Nerius says, scowling at Garr.
“I see, and what, pray tell, happened there Garr? My sources said you had taken one from the human realm that fits a different description to this one, meaning you did not make the mistake from the beginning. So how on Earth did you lose her?” Pyralis questions Garr.
I catch flames crackling in his eyes. Strange…
“Well, you see, Master Pyralis… this one here pulled one over on us. She broke her sister out but… but I caught her and brought her here!” the varg stammers and I suddenly wonder how I was so afraid of this fool.
Pyralis only glares at him then holds out his hand, flames dancing within his palm. Fire wielder!
“Unacceptable,” is all he says in a very cool tone as he snaps his fiery fingers and Garr bursts into flames.
His scream nearly pops my ear drums but he does nothing to run away or put them out.
I just stare, dumbfounded at the horror, and can’t help my cough at the stench of burning hair.
I stop myself from covering my ears but the overwhelm to my senses is bringing tears to my eyes.
Not that I particularly care about this beast that kidnapped me and my sister, I still can’t stand watching this level of suffering.
I turn away from the horror to glare at Pyralis, whose gaze snaps to mine. I try to tap into his thoughts but I am met with a wall of flame within my mind that makes my eyes burn. I try not to wince but I have to break our eye contact which feels like a defeat.
This carries on for another painful few seconds before, out of thin air, a deluge of water encompasses Garr and the fire is put out.
Garr is left with barely any hair left on his body and lots of angry red sores that I am sure will turn into huge blisters later.
I can only imagine the pain he is in right now and pity fills my heart for this creature that I harboured hatred for only moments ago.
He felt so much pride in his Master, how could someone treat their employee like this? I know my face is crumpled in pure hatred for the man seated in front of me and I don’t feign to hide it.
I look around to see where that water came from when I notice Nerius suspending a little water droplet in the centre of his palm before he quickly closes his fist and turns to face Pyralis.
A water Elemental and a fire Elemental…Wait, is this Oleander’s Father? I can suddenly see the resemblance. What did he want with Marissa… or me rather? Did Oleander know?
“Thank you Nerius. Garr you are dismissed,” Pyralis says nonchalantly as he flicks his fingers, motioning for Garr to leave.
“Yes Master, thank you Master,” Garr says before walking away, whimpering slightly as he goes.
“Now, what shall I do with you, Miss Nuria. You appear to have stolen something from me so we must think of a fitting punishment,” he says, steepling his finger-tips. I can’t hold back my rage at what he has claimed.
“I stole from you?! She is my sister! And your minion literally kidnapped her! If anything I should punish you!” I fume, starting to take a step towards him as if I could, in any way, fight this man.
All memory of the pain he just inflicted on Garr is wiped from my memory as my anger rises to a point.
Nerius catches me by the shoulders and pulls me back.
Shockingly, Pyralis starts to laugh, a laugh that doesn’t meet his serious eyes and I am taken aback by the outburst.
“Feisty little human, I like your fire! After all, like speaks to like, but you are terribly mistaken. She let herself be taken in the first place. It is perhaps an unwritten rule of the fae that you would not be familiar with but unless she managed to escape by herself, she has technically been stolen from me and since you, her saviour, have now been caught, a debt is owed!” he says, his laugh turning to thunder.
“I believe fifty years of servitude would do the trick,” he says, snapping back into his steely cool demeanour from before. His ability to instantly switch from pure fire to pure ice within his emotions frightens me.
“Fifty years!?” I exclaim, trying to shake Nerius’ grasp.
“Or until your sister is returned to me. A human lifetime for a life seems only fair. Humans do make the best servants I find, so docile, so eager to please. Fear not, you will be looked after well enough. I’m not a monster.
” He snaps his fingers and a small flame sparks to life, hovering over his pointer finger. Did he say there are other humans here?
“Now this may sting a little,” he says indifferently, and my attention is snapped back into focus.
Nerius grabs my wrist and twists my arm to show it to Pyralis.
The next thing I feel is a searing hot burn on the inside of my arm and I can’t help the whimper that escapes my mouth as I try yanking my arm away.
It is over in a moment and I look down to see the letter P enclosed in flames, imprinted into my skin.
“You can try and run away but every fae on the Continent will recognize that mark and bring you back here immediately. I suggest you settle into your new life, Miss Nuria. You are dismissed,” he says, waving his hand at us like we are hovering flies.
Nerius lightly grasps my elbow to steer me out of the room. I allow him to guide me as I just stare, mouth agape, down at my branded wrist in disbelief.
How did I get myself into this mess? Fifty years for trying to save my family?! Screw all these stupid fae rules! He branded me like a piece of livestock! I start to shake in my rage, feeling completely helpless.
Once we are out of the study Nerius softly closes the door behind us and gives me a little tilt of his head to say, follow me.
I comply with gritted teeth and tears threatening to spill over as he leads me out of the drawing room and across the foyer to the other side of the house.
As we pass the stairs I look up and catch the eye of a little girl in a grey dress poking her head through the bars of the railing.
As soon as our eyes meet she darts out of sight. Human or fae?
Nerius opens the mirroring door to the one of the red study and inside there is another drawing room, except this one is all soft greens and blues with woodland motifs on the walls.
The sofas look much more welcoming, plush even.
The low table in front of the fireplace has a beautiful tea set with whimsical tea cups with mushroom designs on.
In the right corner, near the window, there is a wooden grand piano with ivy vines carved into the legs and a tableau of frolicking winged creatures on the front panel.
I notice there are tiny boxes made of wood, shell and stone on nearly every side table making me want to run around and peek inside.
I feel as though they would all be hiding treats of some sort.
“Does Pyralis have a wife?” I ask, noting that a fiery man would probably not select such décor.
“That is Master Pyralis to you, and no. His most recent wife… died a few years ago. It would be in your own interest to never mention her in his presence,” Nerius responds curtly.
I look around as I am led to another door in the back corner of the room and notice a little framed painting on a small side table. A beautiful woman with soft auburn curls and what appears to be fur for skin inhabits the frame. She has a very familiar pert nose and slanted smile.
This was Oleander’s mother’s space. I give the room one more sweeping glance, feeling strange about the intimacy of knowing a bit more about her mother. I can picture her as a little girl sitting alongside her mom at the piano and wonder how old Oleander was when she died.
Nerius opens the door and ushers me into a fairly empty room.
The walls are painted white, there is no art or decorations and the lace curtains that frame the window are pulled shut, giving the room a grey pallor.
There are a few pieces of furniture covered by white sheets that make it feel like it is inhabited only by ghosts.
There is still a clean and light feeling to the space as if it is cared for and dusted frequently.
“What was in here?” I ask. Nerius looks irritated at my presence and sighs.
“Someone we do not speak of…” he trails off, pausing mid-sentence then clears his throat.
“Not for you to know, now hurry along.” He leads me to the back corner where I can see a little golden doorknob shaped like a flower jutting out of the wall.
Nerius twists and pulls on the knob and the door swings open to reveal a spiraling stone staircase leading up to the top of the tower.
I wonder to myself whether the hidden door is in the same location in Pyralis’ study, but doubt I will ever get the chance to find out.
Once we are in the hall of the staircase I notice there is another door, directly across from the stairs.
“That leads down to the kitchens, where you will report for duty in one hour. Up here is your room.” He motions as we start to ascend the stairs.
“We had prepared for the arrival of your sister so you should count yourself lucky that you will be graced by this grand room. The servants quarters are full at the moment but believe me, as soon as a space opens up you will be out of this house,” he says, making it sound like I am dirt beneath his boot.
“For now, you will travel only from this room to the kitchens. I do not want to find you snooping around,” he says as we near the door.
“I am the only one who addresses the Master, the rest of you report to me. I am your Master and he is mine. Keep your head down and fulfill your duties and you may find that life in the fae realm is not so bad.”
Not that you have any reference, I roll my eyes, feeling that life in this realm will unquestionably not be pleasant at all.
Nerius pushes open the door, which makes a loud creak, and makes way for me to pass him before shutting the door behind me again.
I can hear his footsteps fade as he descends. I am finally alone.