Chapter 31
JACOB
WISSEN MANOR
The door creaks against the silence as I enter a dark hallway, absent of any light except for one candle at the far end, flickering morosely.
Evil lurks in these corridors. It nips at my skin and coats my throat with its stench.
I don’t like the idea of Ella being here, but at the same time, I want her to find freedom.
It’s something I wish for myself and Wilhelm every day of this cursed life.
Except if anything happened to her, I don’t think I could live with myself.
“Perhaps we should split up,” Prince William offers. “We could scout out the place faster that way. You take the stairs to the left while the maiden and I go down this hallway.”
“The maiden has a name,” Ella corrects him sharply.
“It would be best if Ella and I stick together in case,” the prince says and winks. “Because. You know.”
“You might turn into a frog and need a kiss?” Ella snorts and rolls her eyes. “You can find yourself another maiden for that.”
“Sometimes it happens when I get frightened.” Fritz tugs at the edge of his shirt, not able to look at us.
“It’s a good plan,” Wilhelm says. “We’ll accomplish our investigation faster that way.”
“If anything happens to Ella,” I say, giving Wilhelm and the prince a hard look, “I’m holding you both responsible.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine,” Ella says and pulls out the dagger I gave her. “I’ll look for the contract while you find the evidence you need. We get in and out quickly.”
Bristling, I withdraw my sword and spin on my heels, heading upstairs. I hate the fact that being with her makes life worthwhile. Makes breathing bearable.
It doesn’t help thinking about her kissing the prince or even being near the guy. Sure, she doesn’t realize Fritz is Prince William, but the more time he spends with her, he’ll see how amazing she is.
And what woman can resist a prince?
Not that I care. I’ve no right, time, or position to offer her happiness. I’ve nothing to offer Ella other than a life on the road, hunting down the Forbidden. It isn’t a life; it’s a curse.
“You keep stomping around like that,” Wilhelm whispers, grabbing me by the shoulder, “and you’re going to get us both killed.”
I swear under my breath, leaning against the stairwell wall.
He’s right. I need to get myself under control and focus on making sure Ella never sets foot in this place again.
I set off, the floorboards creaking beneath my boots as I work my way down the hall.
I begin opening each door, searching for clues for Dr. Wissen’s story.
I’m on my fifth one when I notice a brass plaque on it.
Gretel, Beloved 8th Wife
Eighth wife? And here I thought he only had six? Startled, I glance back at the other doors. Just like this one, they all have name plaques.
“Every wife had her own room.” I point to the plaques. The whites of Wilhelm’s eyes grow wide as moons.
With dread, I crack open Gretel’s door and peer inside.
Darkness fills most of the room, other than a lone beam of light spilling from a tiny, barred window.
A wedding dress hangs on the side of the wardrobe as if it were worn only yesterday.
My boots crunch on the floor. I’m stepping on dried flower petals that had fallen loose from a forgotten bouquet.
I check the other rooms. They’re all the same. Wedding dresses—some lying on the bed, others hanging from the ceiling beams—while forgotten veils, slippers, and bouquets are tossed aside as if dropped in a rush.
My mind reels, trying to understand what I’m seeing.
Was Dr. Wissen that obsessed with his wives’ wedding day that after they died, he hung the dress up in remembrance?
Or were his actions darker and more sinister?
I reach the far end of the hall, all the rooms boasting plaques except this last one at the end.
This door has the face of a wolf carved into its wood.
“I don’t like this.” Wilhelm adjusts the grip on his dagger.
Swallowing hard, I twist the doorknob. Instead of opening, the carving on the door springs to life. The eyes of the werewolf blink open. Its teeth gleam moon-white, and drool drips down the door. Heart thudding, I leap backward, while Wilhelm holds out his dagger.
“Who tries to enter the abode of the master?” the carved werewolf rumbles.
“Hello, there,” I say, trying to sound nonchalant. “We thought we’d pop in for a moment.”
The creature howls. Instantly, a howl echoes outside as if in reply.
“Guess we just lost our element of surprise,” I say.
I pull out my knife and stab the carving in its wooden eye. The knife in my hand sinks into the door as if it’s being swallowed whole. I let go and stare in shock as it disappears into the wood.
“It just took my best knife!” I exclaim.
“That’s the least of our worries,” Wilhelm says, eyeing the hallway behind us as the howls outside grow louder. “We need to hurry.”
Heart pounding, I kick the door open and rush inside.
A large wooden desk sits in front of floor-to-ceiling glass doors that open to a balcony overlooking the village.
It’s not quite as prestigious a view as from the castle, but not bad.
One stone wall is filled with names. I don’t want to know what that means.
Warily, I inch closer to the desk. One of the boards sinks inward. A trap.
I leap backward just as daggers plummet from the chandelier above into the carpet, inches from either side of my spur-tipped boots.
“Hurry!” Wilhelm barks from the doorway, drawing back an arrow in his bow. “We’ve got company.”
The sound of arrows whizzing in the hall warns me that Wilhelm is already shooting.
I suck in a deep breath and bypass the dagger-riddled floor to the desk.
I scan the letters and lists of names and materials.
My heart sinks when I spy a giant book with a picture of a rooster on it.
Its title tells me everything I needed to know about who Wissen really is. ABCs of Witchcraft and Sorcery.
There’s also a map of the Swabian valley filled with arrows, x’s, and circles. But when I pick it up, the back section of the desk morphs and twists, coming to life. A branch-like hand snaps out and wraps its wooden fingers around my wrist. I cry out in pain.
“That’s not yours,” the desk’s deep voice booms.
Refusing to drop the map, I begin hacking at the wood with my sword. Chips fly into the air, but its grip remains firm.
“Jacob!” Wilhelm calls from the doorway. “I need your help!”
“Little tied up right now!” I glare at the wooden fingers only to discover more hands pushing themselves out of the wood, reaching for me.
This isn’t how I planned for tonight to go.
A scream from below vibrates through the air. My heart starts to seize. Ella! Wilhelm rushes into the room, slamming the door shut. He pushes a large cabinet in front of the door.
“You may have sealed us in a prison,” I point out.
The cabinet shakes as someone on the other side tries to break down the door.
“Thought I’d delay our demise for a moment,” Wilhelm says. “Besides, it looks like you need help.”
“Forget me. Find Ella. I heard her cry out. Try the window. Be careful of the traps in the floor.”
Wilhelm ignores me. He pulls an ax off the wall and begins chopping at the wooden hand gripping me.
“You nicked my wrist!” I growl, trying to block out the pain and blood.
The branch snaps. The fingers let me go. I’m free and still holding the map.
“You’re welcome.” Wilhelm snatches a few papers off the desk and stuffs them into his pouch. “You’ll heal. You always do.”
Frantically, I search for another exit as the cabinet scrapes outward. The far wall is filled with jagged, knife-edged saws as tall as I am hanging vertically. There’s an odd glow to them, and as I step closer, I realize they’re like a moving picture.
“Is it just me, or does that look like the throne room in the palace?” I ask, dread filling my chest.
Wilhelm whistles. “It does. And this one looks like the inside of the tavern in town. People are…moving? What is this?”
“Sorcery,” I say.
I turn only for my foot to trip on the rug. My eyes narrow. I toss the carpet aside to find a ring on the floor. I pull on it. A section of the floor lifts up, revealing a set of stone steps spiraling downward.
“Rather risky.” Wilhelm grimaces. “Reeks, too.”
The cabinet finally moves enough to allow a guard to squeeze through. His face contorts and then twists into a snout. Fur spikes on his skin. Eyes burn red.
“The guard is transforming into a werewolf,” Wilhelm chokes out.
“Everything is starting to make a whole lot more sense.”
I practically throw myself down the staircase.