Charlotte stopped again and frowned up at him. It was hard to see through the heavy gusts. “I have to go for him! He can’t go on his own! It’s against the Regime law!” she called over the wind.
The man with the eight appendages thought for a moment. “Those awful Wizards. I have no idea how they’re able to keep the power over some er’ these other Occult people. Especially Vampires. Vampires are very powerful, too, ya know,” he mused. “Why, they’re just a bunch of wisecrackin’ old Elves is all those Wizards are.” His mustache ruffled again.
Charlotte blinked up at him. She hadn’t really thought about that before. What kind of creatures
were
the Wizards exactly? “Are they really Elves?”
“Yes’um.” He grumbled. “Wisecrackin’ ones. Thinkin’ they're so great just ‘cause they’re all so book smart.”
Charlotte had to chuckle.
“Anyway, I think maybe you should be gettin’ home. There are Lycans and Fairies about in weather like this. Why, you could catch a serious cold, too.” He adjusted the aviator’s goggles on the bridge of his nose.
“What are
you
doing out here, then?” Charlotte asked, amused now.
“Where there are Fairies about, there are arachnids about.” He winked at her.
That made sense. He was a spider. Spiders eat flies. Well, technically the Fae weren’t flies but they were close enough, she decided. She cringed and grimaced as she pictured the strange man chomping down on one.
“A delicacy!” He licked his chops.
Thunder sounded over them again and a single drop of rain splattered on her nose and then another on her cheek.
“Come!” the man said, gesturing to himself. “Hop on. If you don’t want to go home now, I’ll get ya somewhere safe at least. Maybe not dry, but safe.”
“How do I know you won’t eat me?” Charlotte crossed her arms, half-joking.
He put his two front hands on his hips. “You don’t look like a Fairy to me!” He chuckled.
She laughed, too.
“Besides, I don't have a taste for humans. Too mealy.”
The ground disappeared beneath Charlotte’s feet as one of his large hands grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her onto his back. She marveled at how high up she was. His limbs seemed to be twice the size of his body.
“Ready?” He beamed at her through one, goggled, red eye.
She sucked in a breath of the balmy air through her nose. “Ready.” She gulped and gripped both hands around the scarlet material of his scarf.
They were off. She crouched, keeping her head low, grasping even tighter to him. He moved like lightning through the alleyways of the town, up on the rooftops and down over the cobblestone streets. She shut her eyes against the tunnel of cold rain and the fear of being thrown off.
He was much faster than Aiden’s horse, and a lot scarier. She hardly recognized the city that should have been too familiar to her as it flew by. Everything was a dark, gray blur, once in a while illuminated by the glow of a passing streetlight. She could hardly tell what direction they were going in, but there was something about this Phaser she truly trusted. She kept her face hidden in his back until she felt the large spider lurch to a stop.
“Here we are,” he said confidently. One of his enormously long arms helped her onto the ground. She felt slightly disoriented, but she smiled politely at him and nodded once.
She looked to see that they weren’t in front of her house, but rather just beyond her house, at the start of the dense forest. She could see the top of the mansion behind the trees. All of the lights were on inside, making her little castle glow. It looked so welcoming in comparison to the stormy witching hour.
However, in front of her was a rather large, dirt mound like that of a giant anthill—a very dark hole as the entrance to this strange abode.
“Okay, well…thank you for the ride. But I’ll be going back to my house now.” Charlotte glowered.
He chuckled down at her. “Not a problem, Charlotte. You did well. I thought you might’ve passed out.” He adjusted his goggles again.
Her mouth fell open. “You know my name?”
“Once you told me that you belonged to Valek, I knew exactly who you were.” He smiled, his wiry, frosted mustache bristling. “I’ve heard so much about you over the years. It
is
a pleasure to actually meet a human girl!” He extended a human hand toward his borough. “You’re welcome to come in for some tea. I make it myself!” he said proudly, his thumbs resting in his vest.
Charlotte looked again at the dark hole in the forest floor, squinting at it, and then back at the face of the Phaser. She turned once, glancing back at her house, and decided Valek probably wasn’t missing her right now, anyway. Why should she be in such a hurry to return to him? “Sure.” She smiled politely. “Thanks again, Mr.—”
“Třínožka,” he informed her, and grabbed her by the hand as they disappeared down the dark tunnel.
Her eyes didn’t adjust well to the blackness of the dirt-packed entrance. Her free hand felt around at the walls so she could guide herself more easily, even though Mr. Třínožka was doing most of the guiding for her. Her fingertips trailed across the winding tree roots and rocks hiding in the topsoil, until finally her eyes were met with a faint, warm light behind a set of patterned curtains.
When the spider pushed through, Charlotte emerged into a rather large burrow he had dug for his home under the forest. Multiples of trinkets, oddities, and collectables lined the walls, stacked next to crude, pillowy sacks that she guessed the spider used for couches.
Another Phaser was playing music from one corner of the burrow. A caterpillar type just as large as Mr. Třínožka, sat folded over a small bench before an old, upright piano. He did not seem to notice the pair had entered behind him as he continued to play.
“That sounds beautiful,” Charlotte said softly.
“That’s just Horris. He’s completely deaf.” Mr. Třínožka began removing his scarf and his knit gloves with the fingers cut out. He laid them on one of the couches.
“He’s deaf?” Charlotte blanched. “How can he play?”
“Charlotte, trust me, it is not a hindrance.” The spider leaned in close to her. “You do not need your ears in order to hear that which you wish to create.” He winked before scurrying off to a different part of the burrow. He called out to her, “Please, have a seat! I am expecting other company and tea will be on shortly!”
Charlotte did as he said, finding one of the large, fluffy sacks and plopping in the center of it. She struggled to keep herself upright, though the softness of it swallowed her, her knees folding up to her stomach.
“I really like your home!” she said so that he could hear her from the other room.
“Thank you.” The Phaser reappeared with a bronze teakettle in one hand and two ceramic jugs in the others. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”
“Earl Grey, please.” She smiled, continuing to try and find her balance in the chair.
His mustache bristled again as he disappeared once more.
“Where do you find all of these things?” Charlotte asked, her eyes scanning the various pieces. There were clock gears, and only halves of sets of human pairs of shoes. There were dented pots and pans, many books, cuckoo clocks, lamps, hunks of un-polished scrap metal, stuffed animals, sculptures, photographs, silverware, snow globes, and about a million other things that decorated the spider’s home.
“I’m a junk collector. I collect junk.” Mr. Třínožka reappeared again with four cups of tea in each of his hands. “Like Horris.”
Charlotte laughed.
He gave one cup to Charlotte, set one down on a small, crooked coffee table, and placed one on the piano in front of Horris before sitting down in one of the couches. “It’s what I do. One spider’s trash is another spider’s treasure,” he said, sipping at his tea. “You wouldn’t believe the things I discover.”
“Thank you,” Charlotte heard Horris grumble under his music.
Charlotte took a sip, too, the hot steam bringing warmth back to her cheeks. She smiled when she tasted the milk and honey, exactly how she liked it. She sipped at it again. “So, who’s the other company you’re expecting?”
As if on cue, a familiar burlap figure came rolling down the tunnel, landing on his backside facing Charlotte and the spider, reeling from dizziness.
“Ah, Edwin! Just in time!” Mr. Třínožka said, one of his arms stretching out to hand him his cup of tea.
Edwin took it, eyes still spinning. “Thanks. Hi, Charlotte.”
“Edwin!” She giggled. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”
Edwin grumbled something incoherent and sipped at his tea.
The evening went on like that for just a while longer and the three talked and laughed while Horris continued to play the piano, seemingly oblivious to the goings-on behind him. Mr. Třínožka told stories of how he obtained some of his more interesting pieces before Charlotte finally stood up, stretching out her arms and legs.
“I better get going. Mr. Třínožka, thank you so much for your hospitality.”
“Any time, my dear. Don’t be a stranger! Say hello to Valek, and tell him not be so careless with a lovely little girl like yourself.”
Charlotte smiled once to Edwin, patting him on the head, before turning and exiting out the long tunnel from whence she came.
The wind had finally died down and the walk back to the steps of her home was quick. She could hear laughter coming from inside. That was when she remembered. Evangeline.
Charlotte burst through the front door, expecting to see the two of them just on the other side. The room was lit, but empty. She looked to see slight shadows moving from inside the library. Her stomach twisted with a feeling she didn’t recognize. She crept over to the library door, hearing Evangeline’s unmistakable, musical laughter. It made Charlotte’s cheeks burn.
Slowly peering around the threshold, the thing she saw next made something hard and icy shatter deep within her chest. Evangeline’s long, sleek body leaned over Valek, who sat in his armchair, tie undone, shirt slightly unbuttoned at the top. Her lips moved slickly across his neck and up to his mouth, and the worst part was…he kissed her back.
Charlotte froze in the doorway, wanting to run out again into the storm. But her legs seemed to be nothing but bricks of lead. A feeling twisted in her gut, like shards of serrated glass, as the onset of salty tears stung the bridge of her nose. She hadn’t realized her satchel had dropped to the floor, shattering the empty spell bottles inside.
Evangeline jumped at the sound and looked to see Charlotte standing there in the doorway.
Chapter Five
The Price of Sinning
“Char—Lottie…” Valek started quietly.
Charlotte saw herself out of body, staring back at him, slowly breaking into two pieces. Her mouth fell open in an effort to speak, willing something,
anything
to stumble out, but nothing would. Slowly, she turned and padded out into the night.
She walked a slow, even pace off the porch steps and back onto the stone footpath then stood there, sucking in a deep breath of rimy air. Exhaling, she could see her misty breath between the silvery plummets of rain. She straightened up and broke into a run. That was the only thing she wanted to do—the only thing her swimming mind could think of. She just wanted to run.
She prayed to God Valek was far enough away not to be able to hear her miserable thoughts, knowing if he had the opportunity, he
would
have been listening. Her throat felt thick as a fresh wave of bile crawled up her esophagus. Had she really just seen what she thought she had? Impossible. Out of every evil thing this nightmarish city contained, her very
worst
nightmare had been realized. The images flashed, vivid at the forefront of her mind, recalling that which had sucker punched her clear across the face only a few moments ago. She ran, passing the taverns and shops, not knowing where to turn next. There was no safe haven. She needed to find some place empty, some place quiet, where she could think.
Why did it have to be
Evangeline?
It just confirmed all of the fears that constantly tormented Charlotte in the back of her mind.
Nights she lay awake, conjuring up in her mind this very thing was somehow eventual, somehow inevitable. Tears from her eyes meshed so well with the cold rain on her face; she could hardly tell she had started to cry. Her lungs began to scorch in her chest after a distance and she bent in half, her hands on her knees as the tears continued to fall. Oxygen returned to her in a fury of blistering waves. Her shivering fingers wound absently around her silver whistle, habitual.
Charlotte straightened again and looked around at the desolate village square. Her teeth chattered as she wrapped her arms around her shoulders, suddenly too aware of the zillions of goose bumps on seemingly every plane of her body.
She turned to her left to see a shadowed alley between the freestanding gothic cathedral and Broucka General Store. It didn’t look to her like it would a dead end, as the dank path seemed to twist around the side of the church walls.
Perhaps this would be a good, quiet place.
She began walking. A gargoyle loomed at her as she passed, its wretched jaws extended in an eternal howl, like it too was disgusted with the putrid love she hid so fervently from the one who
raised
her. She shuddered.
Sure enough, the washed cobblestone pathway turned and disappeared under a mound of dirt and grass. A low, black fence surrounded the entire churchyard, its twisted gate mangled and rusted. Grass, a brilliant emerald color, even in the dead of night, stretched to the moon, her ankles drowning in it as she walked. A stony fountain stood in the very center of the forsaken garden, its winged statue pointing his cherubic hand toward the night sky.
Charlotte walked over and peered into the basin, a sickly sort of jade color with moss growing around the sides. It didn’t look like it worked at all with the limestone decay built up around the bottom. It was completely unkempt, but it was just the peaceful sort of place she needed. She sank into the basin of the dirty fountain where the rainwater collected, her legs dangling over the brim. She was already sopping, and anyway, getting dirt on her clothes was the very furthest thing she cared about. She buried her head in her hands and sucked deep an enormous breath of the clean, dewy air. Tears finally starting to dry, she shoved the rest of the garbage from her mind so she could finally think more clearly.
Valek was her parent—her guardian, she amended. He never wanted her to refer to him as ‘Father’. He made that point when she was very young, learning to talk. Perhaps if he
had
made those boundaries more clear, this might have never been an issue. Valek
raised
her. He was the only thing she had ever learned to love, and by far her greatest treasure. In spite of growing up around all of this magic, Charlotte looked at Valek like she looked at nothing else. He meant
everything
, and she had just walked in on him and Evangeline.
Together
.
Exhausted, Charlotte sighed and looked up at the stars. The downpour had diminished into a light drizzle. The storm seemed to have cleaned all of the thick, ominous clouds away, leaving the sky sparkling. Thankful the rain had stopped. She breathed in the clean air and watched Polaris wink down at her. She returned to her conundrum.
She decided she should be happy for Valek. He had been alone for years, even before he’d found her. Yet the thought of Valek romantically involved with anyone at all seemed weird and unnatural, because it had always just been the two of them, simple and unchanging.
Maybe it made sense for Valek to be with Evangeline now. Of course it did. Charlotte could never be
that
for him. She wasn’t supposed to be. And Evangeline was nice. She was beautiful. She would take care of him.
Something hard and icy stabbed at the inside of Charlotte’s chest again, and she lurched forward, balling her fists in her hair. No! She wasn’t going to accept that. She needed Valek, and she needed him all to herself. They were
soul mates
. That was the reason he’d found her nearly nineteen years ago in Prague. There
must
have been a reason. They belonged together.
Biologically, he wasn’t much older than her—about four years. They weren’t related in the least. They practically were like different
species
altogether. They could be together once she was old enough. He only needed to wait for her.
No
, her logical half fought back. That was too disgusting to even think about. Why was she thinking it?
Her heart and mind raged on in battle, neither half making any sort of victory. What was she going to say to him? What was he going to think? Charlotte couldn’t imagine her situation getting any worse.
“Lottie?”
The soft, familiar voice dripped like honey in the thick gardenia-scented air. She looked up to see him standing at the edge of the broken gate.
No! Go away!
She said the words in her mind, but nothing came out of her lips that had frozen shut. Instead, she buried her face in her knees again.
Wrong. It can always get worse
.
“I’m not going to go away,” Valek said aloud, answering her thoughts defiantly.
He padded over to her with his hands up in surrender, careful, as though she were a spooked rabbit.
She felt like she was going to be sick. This was it. The floodgates were now open. Her heart pounded in her chest as she looked at him. He had cleaned up. His hair was tied neatly back with a black ribbon. His red ascot with the Czech coat of arms scrawled in elegant gold, and brown sear-sucker vest were back in their rightful place—the buttons closed. She wanted to look away again, but his lingering, sapphire gaze kept her there.
“What?” She sniffed and quickly wiped at her face with an already dampened sleeve. She hated when she was vulnerable. She wished she were on the opposite end of the world.
He sat down on the scummy brim of the fountain and took her small hand in his. His skin was cool and satiny, like it always felt—dry, though with a slick sort of feeling, like the scales on a snake.
“I am sorry, Lottie,” he said almost too quietly for her to hear. “I should never have allowed that to happen.”
She sniffed again. “Why are
you
sorry?” She wriggled her hand free and folded it sheepishly in her lap. “Who you choose to be involved with is none of my business. You deserve to be happy.”
“Do not say such things. It
is
without a doubt your business. I do not feel that way about Evangeline.” He pleaded for her to look at him. She refused.
“That’s not the way it looked.” This was stupid. She felt like a jealous wife.
“I am aware of the way it looked.” He sighed. “And I am not going to try and explain. But I promise it was meaningless. Evangeline will not be my betrothed anytime soon.” He chuckled darkly.
Charlotte didn’t buy it. Instead, she turned her face away, the only effort she could make to hide from him. She felt him inch closer to her as she sniffled once more.
“Please do not cry, my Lottie.” He eased one long bony finger over her cheek, wiping away a tear. She couldn’t help but completely melt inside.
Finally, she turned to look him in the eye, which proved to be a big mistake. Her tears flowed inconsolably then and it was all she could do to bury her face in his chest, her hands knotting around the back of his neck.
“Valek. I’m so confused. It’s not like I can hide it from you any longer. Eventually you were going to hear it.” She sobbed.
He rested his bony cheek on top of her head, listening to the thoughts she knew he had not since paid much attention to. This
did
complicate things quite a bit, and she knew it.
“Shhh, Lottie.” He stroked her hair. “You shouldn’t have to hide anything from me. You know that. I told you to come to me under any circumstance. I meant it.”
He delicately slid his hand up the side of her arm—a gesture she was sure he meant to be comforting, but it wasn’t. She pulled away. “I’m sure this was not the sort of circumstance you meant.” She quickly brushed away more falling tears.
Valek held her by the shoulders, separating himself farther so he could look directly into her burning face. She denied herself from looking up at him, wanting so much to protect him from her horrible, weird, perverted thoughts. Instead, her gaze rested on the sopping skirt of her dress.
“Listen to me now, Lottie.” He spoke gently, though his words seemed to carry a current of electricity. It made her want to glance up, but she forced her focus downward.
“Not now, nor will I ever forsake you. Not under
any
circumstance. My love is unconditional. I hope you can understand that.”
Her eyes pricked, and she clenched her jaw tighter.
“We are going to go home now and give all of this up for tonight. This can be discussed a different time.”
She heard a smile on the last three words, and she knew he was trying to be nothing but comforting again. Her gaze finally touched his, her heart feeling like it had splintered. “But what about you? I didn’t hunt for you tonight.”
He smiled again. “I’ll be fine.” He stood. “Come. Let’s go home.” He held his arm out to her, offering to pull her from the thoughts she was drowning in.
Apprehensively, she took it and they started walking together, out of the abandoned garden. Her eyelids felt so heavy, she fought to keep them open. The world around her started to tilt in odd ways. Her teeth began to chatter again. She just wanted it all to be over.
The image of the Witch hovering over him branded itself into Charlotte’s mind, and she decided she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. Valek’s hand enveloped hers, but things still felt a little weird so she tried to casually wriggle her hand free. He let it go, but Charlotte was sure he didn’t miss her motive. He rarely missed anything.
“I was actually just about to come and find you after our argument when she knocked on the door,” he continued.
She knew he was only trying to make things better, but it wasn’t working and Charlotte wished he had just left it alone. The earth started to tilt a little more under her feet. She blinked, stumbled forward, and caught herself on his arm.
“Lottie?” He stopped. “Lottie, are you okay?”
His liquid velvet voice reverberated around in her hollowed-out head. It almost sounded like he was calling to her down a long, steel tunnel. She opened her mouth to respond when her eyes rolled back into her head. The entire world disappeared from under her as everything faded to black.
***
Aiden was still awake, skimming over a crumpled set of parchment paper. Everyone else in the house had already gone to bed, and he found the solitude—something he rarely experienced with so many siblings—soothing as he read.
Before him, lit by a dim lantern perched next to him on the edge of the sofa, was a list of names, all employed by the
Central European Magic Regime
. Aiden was determined to find out who the assailant from the woods was. How dare anyone from the Regime try and attack
him?
After all, that Lycanthrope guard should have known immediately who he was.
He glanced up at the small, wooden clock above the mantle. The second hand ticked, like a metronome, a little too loudly. Father should be arriving any moment. Aiden had called on him the moment Charlotte left, not wanting to reveal to her the enormous secret he’d been hiding over the years they had been friends.
Danek Price was not simply a mere, woodland Elf. Aiden couldn’t help but grin in the dark room from the utter reverence he felt for his father.
Hearing the familiar sound, like a heavy gush of wind, of someone
projecting
just outside the front door, Aiden shot up from the couch. His father had arrived at last. A knot formed in Aiden’s throat just before he approached the door. It had been a considerable amount of time since they had last seen one another. The Regime didn’t always allow time for Father to return home. Then again, he probably wouldn’t have wanted to, Aiden admitted with a frown.
“Son.” Danek lingered in the doorway, a mere astral projection of his physical self. His bottom half was nothing but a swirling cloud of smoky mist, and any uninformed person might have thought they’d seen a ghost if they were lucky enough to catch a glimpse. Aiden guessed his father’s physical body must be somewhere secure within the walls of the Regime palace. Astral projection was considered very dangerous, and by law, something only a very skilled Wizard could perform. Aiden was not yet experienced enough.