Chapter 2
Chapter Two
JADEON
By the age of ten, I had developed a deep affection for Catherine, and we rarely played with wooden swords now, but she was often in my presence.
Her gentle temperament brought me out of my shell, and it was she who introduced me to astronomy.
She would point up at the stars and test my knowledge of the formations.
During the long winter nights, we found rooms within the castle in which to hide, and in the summer, we stole out to the water’s edge where we would chat well into the morning… all so very innocent.
My parents could never figure out why I slept so much during the day.
On a night so similar to the others, I lay under my bed covers and strained to keep my eyes open.
I had again arranged to meet Catherine, whose family had enjoyed a late-night dinner as guests of my parents and were staying in the east wing.
When the appointed hour arrived, I dressed as quietly as possible, glancing occasionally at my brother who slept soundly beside me.
Alex, despite having his own bedroom, often preferred to sleep in my bed, where he found comfort from his fear of the dark.
I had grown used to his need and didn’t mind at all.
The floorboards creaked, as if cursing my footing. I reached for Alex’s still-burning candle from the small rosewood table before heading out to the south terrace. I tiptoed through the shadows, hugging the walls, and made my way down the sweeping staircase into the main hallway toward the exit.
Screams echoed.
I stopped.
They came from a corridor that led away from the foyer.
I followed the sobs, proceeding cautiously down the dark, intimidating corridor positioned to the right of the main stairwell.
To my horror, a gust of wind blew out the flame from my candle, and for a moment I was thrown into complete blackness.
I hoped Catherine would wait.
My eyes adjusted to the shadowy darkness—again, those female cries—and despite my overwhelming dread, I could not turn back. The noises resonated from the castle’s dungeons.
I held my candle in front of me, as though by some miracle it would relight, and fumbled my way down the stairs with my left hand on the cold stone wall, using the torchlight that reflected from the lower chambers.
I heard a scuffle from inside the very room my father had strictly forbidden me ever to enter.
I considered waking him up but was drawn to the door.
Crouching down, I peered through the keyhole. Numerous candles lit the chamber, allowing a fair view of the men who moved purposefully within. Muffled voices now rhythmically chanted, and over them came a woman’s voice.
My hands trembled, and I willed them to stop.
I peeked again. A shrill almost knocked me back. Something very bad was happening. A girl begged for mercy. I considered saving her from the monsters that tortured her. Father would know what to do.
I was going in.
I will save you.
A key turned in the lock.
Those inside were coming out.
I sprinted toward the large wooden trunk that was against the far wall, horrified to see Alex had followed me down.
Quickly, I shoved him behind the trunk and covered his mouth.
Although furious with Alex, the events of the moment took precedence.
Together, we watched in fear, startled to see five masked men withdraw from the dark chamber, all dressed in black, their long capes billowing.
Forcefully, four of the men dragged a young woman, her disheveled raven hair falling over her face, her eyes blindfolded. She was dressed in a man’s clothes.
I covered my ears to block out her screams. Alex wet himself and whimpered.
I grasped his hand.
Her head bobbed up and down as they hauled her away—to my relief, in the opposite direction.
I thanked God they headed away from us. For a moment, I feared they would step in the urine and find us.
I recognized one of the men. He followed the entourage, walking speedily toward the dungeons. It was Father.
Alex bit down on his hand, and I pulled his fingers out of his mouth before he drew blood.
“It’s Father,” I reassured him.
“Father?” Alex leapt up.
I yanked him down. “No,” I mouthed.
Father too wore a mask, and though his eyes could be seen clearly, it covered the rest of his face. I wondered why he was trying to conceal his identity.
The woman’s blindfold fell to the ground, and we set eyes on the most beautiful woman. Her pale, porcelain skin was dazzling.
Her deep turquoise eyes fixed on us.
I took a deep breath, unable to remember taking my last.
She struggled, but with hands bound tightly behind her back and with the unwavering grip of the four men, she failed to get loose. Within a moment, and with much panic, the men replaced the blindfold, covering the woman’s face again. She was carried off into the dark.
As they disappeared from view, the woman cried out again. “Orpheus!” The name echoed into the silence.
Alex was on his feet and running toward the dungeons. I reached out to stop him but failed. I scampered after him and soon caught up. We gazed down the long corridor. The men, Lord Artimas, and the woman were gone.
We explored the dungeons, looking for any sign of them.
On finding nothing, we looked at each other in disbelief.
I was shaken but selfishly reassured that Alex had shared witness.
I told him of my plan to meet with Catherine, and we both headed away from the cells, back toward his bedroom.
Alex changed clothes and shoved his soiled trousers under his bed.
I was grateful they were not under mine. We scurried toward the south terrace.
“You’re sure it was Father?” Alex asked.
“Yes.”
“Do you think the woman was a witch?”
“She must have been, otherwise why would he—”
“Do you think she put a spell on us when she saw us?” he asked.
“No.”
“You don’t look too sure.”
“Witches need potions,” I said.
Alex was persuaded. Now all I had to do was convince myself. We reached the water’s edge.
“You both look like you’ve seen a ghost!” Catherine said.
With a subtle glance, I instructed Alex to be quiet.
At the age of nine, Catherine was a delicate-looking child, with fine features, a small build, and thick blond hair that fell in familiar golden waves down her back.
“You are both so late!” she obviously said for Alex’s sake, having expected only me. “Still, you are here now. Ready for our forbidden nightly swim?”
I forced a smile. “You go on, Catherine, and we’ll join you.” I drew close to Alex. “We mustn’t tell her anything, not until we have discovered what it’s all about.”
Alex grasped my arm. “We must speak with Father in the morning.”
My reply was interrupted by a loud splash.
Catherine had jumped into the cold water.
Alex quickly undressed, then pushed past me and joined Catherine.
Together, they swam out, away from the rocky shoreline.
Unsettled, I glanced back at the castle walls, the many rooms and prominent turrets, and wondered if the recent events of the evening were a dark portent.
On hearing both Catherine and Alex call to me, I too undressed before wading into the chilly waves and pushing off from the rocks toward them.
When I caught up, we all tread in the water while looking back at the castle’s looming silhouette.
I sighed, much relieved that things seemed to be slowly returning to normal.
Our nightly swim had become somewhat of a routine in the summer.
We had been strictly banned from such behavior, but had defied our parents.
It had been I who taught Catherine to swim.
I watched her with pride, she seemingly unaware of my attention.
Catherine laughed, pulling at my arms, and then pushing me away playfully.
Her expression turned to terror. “Where’s Alex?”
I searched the surface. “No!”
We’d swum out too far, near the undercurrents.
“Alex?” Her voice was high-pitched, panicked.
I recalled where we had last seen him, swam in that direction, and dove down, frantically scrambling with outstretched hands.
Lungs bursting, I returned to the surface empty-handed, gasping for air, only to dive again into the deep.
My heart pounding, I grappled in the blackness.
As if by a miracle, I felt Alex’s hand lashing out and grabbed hold.
Swimming with all my might, I thrashed with my legs to speed our ascent, out from the wrenching current.
My lungs were bursting. I ignored the strain, determined to rise with Alex or not at all.
With all my strength, I yanked him up, his head now out of the water.
Gasping for air, we both coughed and spluttered.
Alex clung to me as I guided him to the water’s edge.
Catherine, a slower swimmer, followed behind.
I pushed Alex, shaken and weak, up onto the bank.
For a moment, he lay quite still, reeling with fear, staring blankly.
I pulled him toward me and embraced him.
I caught my breath and turned awkwardly to help Catherine out of the water.
I shrieked.
Catherine had disappeared.
“Stay here,” I ordered Alex and plunged back into the water, my arms reaching out, feeling blindingly in panic.
After minutes of tirelessly searching, I caught sight of her.
Catherine had been dragged down by a strong current and held there.
She had been swept along the water’s edge and onto the rocks, where she clutched at the jagged granite.
Recovering her balance, Catherine pulled herself up onto the rocky bank, safe again on dry land.
We ran toward her, helping her away from the water’s edge.
We collapsed by the wall of the castle, shivering in shock.
I took Catherine in my arms, cradling her.
She flung her arms around me and held me close.
Alex covered her with her own dress before continuing to dress himself.
“I saw her!” she panted.