Spell of the Dark Castle

Chapter 2

Chapter 2“What in the name of Immortals is going on?” Zofia cried, horrified.

Elton took a step toward the spot.

“No!” Dorian warned, grasping him by the shoulder. “Blanche, get over here!”

Blanche surged obediently toward him. Withershins whinnied and trotted right behind her.

“That seems to be a Portal of some sort,” Dorian said, glaring at the spot, just past the white daisies and onion stalks—the few items left that Withershins had found delectable enough to eat in their gardens.

The huge iridescent Bubble landed quietly and gently in the garden, just barely bending the leaves of the squash and cucumbers. An oval opening appeared in its center and out stepped a tall, handsome man in his early forties, wearing a peacock-blue robe with gold edging. A small gold skull, emblem of the Knights, was embroidered over his heart. His long, blond hair was pulled back off his face and tied with several matching ribbons, as always. He stood six-foot-five, and looked like something chiseled from marble by a great artist, like Michelangelo.

“Blessed be,” Stephen Restormell, Head of the Knights of Witenagemont, stated casually to all present as he stepped out into the garden. Stephen wasn't simply handsome, he was drop-dead gorgeous. A woman's head would be able to complete a 180 degree turn in order to take him in, should she miss him on the first pass.

Behind him, another man emerged wearing a shiny, silvery-gold tunic over matching pantaloons tucked into boots of the same color and sheen. His long white hair and flowing white beard looked whiter than usual. In fact, the Immortal Paradeep seemed to glow. A breeze pushed at the unfettered ends of his tresses, which came nearly to the ground.

“Paradeep!” Zofia squeaked, suddenly feeling over-exposed as she remembered she was not wearing a b*a underneath her T-shirt, and seeing Stephen had given her goose bumps—all over. And she was certain she had never shown as much of her legs on Euphoria since she was a small girl. She suddenly felt terribly under-dressed before the Immortal, and Stephen.

“Blessed be all who dwell here.” Paradeep greeted, his gaze taking Zofia in. “Zofia, you're looking”—his eyes took her in—“well.”

Zofia self-consciously edged behind Dorian. “Blessed be. Welcome to our home,” she said almost too quietly, and made an awkward curtsy.

“Thank you,” Paradeep said, and looked around himself almost anxiously.

“Blessed be my Lord,” Dorian said, making a moderate, but respectful bow to both men. Stephen was his boss, as well as a prince of his own realm.

“Blessed be,” Stephen repeated.

“Stephen, old man,” Dorian said casually. “We didn't expect you until nightfall.”

“It couldn't wait,” Stephen said, stepping aside for the Immortal, giving him way.

“Everyone, stay right where you are,” Paradeep cautioned. Hands raised, he stepped further into the garden. His robes contrasted against the orange blossoms of the melons. “An illegal Portal has just been issued from Euphoria, and I've tracked it the whole way, to this planet, right into your backyard.” He waived his hands in a circle toward the area where the dog, Lolly, and the cats had just been sucked in.

A sound like a jar of peanuts being opened was heard.

“There. I've closed it,” Paradeep said, and strode further into the garden where golden black-eyed Susans nodded in his wake. “Is everyone alright?”

“Yes, thank you,” Zofia said, but Stephen's gaze held hers as he stepped toward them. He winked at her. It was a knowing wink, and she knew exactly what he was thinking, because she was thinking it too. Feeling herself blush, she had to avert her eyes.

“Dorian,” Stephen said as he strode up to him, smiling a dazzling smile. “Have you everything in order to join us back on Euphoria?” If they were Ugwumps—mortals—they would have grasped hands and shook them in a meaningful, manly way. But they were wizards. Actually, Stephen was one-eighth god. If they touched each other on the hands, even briefly, there'd be enough sparks to start the 4th of July celebration all over again, right in her own backyard. The Power serge would most likely be enough to knock Dorian on his keister, and leave a burned out hole half the size of their potting shed. They merely bowed to one another. And then, as though they could not hold back, they embraced briefly, cuffing one another boisterously, on the back. They were best friends, after all.

“Pretty much,” Dorian said, a broad grin etched across his face. “Just need a moment to go and gather it all up.” It was an unguarded moment of emotion Zofia rarely, if ever witnessed from him. If Zofia was none the wiser, she would never have guessed that the two had been rivals and had fought over her once, a long time ago. That was how Dorian had given Stephen a knot on his otherwise straight nose.

“Zofia,” Stephen said, turning his eyes on her. “You take the breath away, as always.”

“My Lord Stephen,” Zofia said, bowing and making another curtsy, just as awkward as the last one. He had become Lord of Restormell Castle ten years after his father had died when he came of age. The fact that he was one-eighth god only increased the butterflies in her stomach while standing in the same atmosphere with him. An odd, but familiar fluttering low in her abdomen reminded her of the last kiss he'd bestowed upon her when she had gone to see Paradeep only a few days ago, at his mountain retreat on Euphoria. She had never expected the kiss, nor the o****m she'd experienced from it. Goddess!

“Was there a mishap?” Paradeep asked them, concern in his slightly hoarse voice, he studied each of them. Zofia was glad for the interruption, pulling Stephen's gaze off her. She tugged at her shirt collar—there wasn't enough material to hide the terrible fang marks made by Dorian just a few days before. Or had Stephen already seen them?

“There rather was,” Dorian spoke up. “The neighbor lady, Lulu, and her dog—”

“Lolly,” Zofia corrected. “As well as Perth and Argyll vanished into that Portal along with them,” Zofia concluded, holding the collar up on one side. She tried for casual indifference, hoping she wasn't too obvious, but knew she probably was. If either Stephen, or Paradeep saw the vampire bites, she'd be in big doo-doo. It was Taboo to allow a vampire to bite you. If Stephen saw the marks, he'd know what she'd done right away.

Not having caught any of this, Paradeep turned toward the Bubble, made a wave of his hand and the Bubble vanished with a resounding pop of air.

“This is most disturbing,” Paradeep said, then stopped and peered around the garden as though he'd just discovered it. “Very lovely place you have, Zofia. I must commend you.”

“Thank you,” Zofia said quickly, and tried to keep a safe distance from his sharp eyes. She hoped desperately he would not use his Powers to read her mind. He was never one to pry, ever, unless warranted, and that was the best thing she had going right now, because Paradeep could look into anyone's mind, if he really wanted to, and know what they were thinking.

“Do you know where on Euphoria this illegal Portal issued?” Dorian asked.

“I'm not at all sure where the Portal came from precisely, only that it did come from somewhere in the northeastern quadrant of The Province,” Paradeep said. “Close to the Oblast.” The Province was where she, Dorian, Stephen, and just about one third of their world's population lived. The Oblast was out of their jurisdiction where the most lawless, and mostly Were families lived, and vampires liked to seclude themselves as well. No one in their right minds would venture into The Oblast without a good reason, and only with a small army of very good Knights at their back.

“Gardner?” Dorian asked, his anxious gaze slid to include Stephen.

“That would be a good speculation,” Stephen said smoothly. His gaze darted off Dorian to take in Zofia, and slipped back on Dorian. There was the look of subterfuge in his gold-green eyes, plus an evasiveness in his tone.

Dorian turned to glance at Zofia. His expression matched Stephen's. It was a look she knew well and took it upon herself to excuse herself. She knew the men would want to speak privately amongst themselves. And she could use the excuse to go put on more cloths. The black turtleneck came to mind, and she dismissed it just as quickly. It was already warm and muggy, the usual Illinois weather for this time of year.

“I see this is Witenagemont business,” she said and padded barefoot toward the house, trying hard not to glance back at them. But Stephen's words made her look back.

“It is,” Stephen said. “The last assignment Dorian had before he was—”

“Right,” Dorian said briskly, cutting Stephen's words off. “Zofia, take the children and go wait in the house.”

Halting, Zofia frowned at Dorian's command. Then remembered her place. She'd really been single, living as an Ugwump on this planet way too long. Besides, she really didn't mind getting out from under Stephen's intense gaze. Blanche and Elton were obediently heading inside ahead of her. The screen door slammed twice. Zofia was three steps from escaping herself, but heard the swish of something behind her. Stephen's deep voice caught her by surprise.

“Zofia? A moment, please,” Stephen said. His voice was the usual silky-deep, yet caressing. Commanding, yet gentle.

Halting, Zofia turned to see him angling toward her, down the garden path. When he caught up with her he darted a look back over his shoulder at Paradeep and Dorian, who were deep in their own, low conversation, not noticing where Stephen had gone.

Stephen's fingers grasped her arm firmly, turning her about and leading her away from the two men. The heat from his fingers on her skin gave her another fluttering in the stomach. Just being next to him made her feel a little floaty. They stood next to a planter where once had grown a proud display of purple and blue petunias. Withershins had taken it upon himself to cultivate them down to the roots.

“What is it?” she asked with concern, her head tilted far back to look into his chiseled features. She watched his jaw muscles bunching; he looked as though in two minds as to what he wanted to say to her. His one hand slid down her arm and took her hand in his. His other hand snagged the one that was holding up the material of the T-shirt, to hide those angry welts. As though not having noticed, he held her hands as they stood face to face like that, like old friends.

“I only wish to impart—” he began, and then as though needing to reword it, started again. “Zofia, you are all invited to come back to our world with us for the Feast.”

This was very sudden. Perplexed by the news she asked, “Now? I-I mean, today?”

“Today. Yes. Within the hour, in fact, you need to be ready,” he said, dipping his face lower so as to peer into her eyes ever more deeply. His seemed gentle and more golden than green at the moment, and she decided it was more likely the more intense sun here on First World, than any thing more. It didn't matter the color, right now, she was held captive by those eyes. They were the kind a woman could get lost in.

“I can't explain this to you right now. But your presence is very much required.”

She blinked back her surprise. “Me? Really?” He had released her hands, and she pressed one to her chest, the other went back to her throat, feeling the bumps from the bite marks. She glanced back at Dorian briefly. Did he know they were all to return to Euphoria?

“You said we'd leave soon?” she asked.

“As soon as possible,” Stephen said.

“The children, and my Aunt Tillie?” She didn't know if Aunt Tillie would be welcomed. She was not exactly a favorite of the Knights. She had been married multiple times to different Knights, and each of them had wound up being murdered—not that she had anything to do with the murders, but she was considered bad luck. At least for a man who happened to be a Knight. (In other words, it was a good bet she wouldn't get any dates while there.)

“Your Aunt Tillie is most welcome to come along,” he said, smiling.

“Well, I guess, if everyone is welcomed…”

“I can't urge you enough, Kitten,” he said, lowering his voice. “And, you will have to leave the Stone of Irdisi here, I'm afraid.”

“What? How can I? I'm the Keeper,” she said, even more shocked at the suggestion of leaving the Stone here, unguarded.

“It can be brought back later,” he suggested with a calming gesture of the hands. “For right now, the best place for it is here, on First World. Trust me.”

She gazed into the depths of his eyes. Sunlight picked up flecks of deeper gold in those dazzling eyes. She felt herself shudder with the next intake of air.

“Well, alright,” she said. “I'll have to call Tillie. She's at the store right now.”

“Take as much time as you need to make preparations to leave, but do not dawdle. Take only what you need, and nothing more. Everything will be provided.”

“Clothes?”

“Yes,” he said. “We will provide you with everything you may need in clothing.”

“Where are we to stay?”

“In my castle. Of course.”

Of course. Zofia nodded and left him in the heat of the day to find sanctuary in the cool of the house, where she could think. He wouldn't give his reasons for her returning with them, aside from the excuse of joining them in the Feast. The Feast was an integral part of the Knight's realm, and it was more of a social gathering, and a way to rub elbows with the most elite of their kind. The Induction Feast celebrated, and honored the newest member of the Knights—a young initiate—who was chosen once a year from the Vanguard, and voted in by the highest-ranking Knights. Dorian was one, and, of course, Stephen was the Head of the Knights. But why was it so important she be present? It made her feel deeply uncomfortable. Also his telling her to leave the Stone of Irdisi, the most powerful magical implement of their planet, caused her a thread of alarm. Maybe with so many Knights, the idea of the Stone in their presence made them uncomfortable? Or, was it that it was simply against Code? She couldn't recall that one.

Zofia had never attended any of these events, mainly because they were rather stuffy occasions, more geared for the mothers and fathers of the would-be initiates, where they were wont to go about trying to get endorsements from members to vote their son in. And since Elton was way too young—and was not in the Brotherhood of Knights—it had nothing to do with him.

No. Stephen knew something, and it was somehow part of this whole scenario to get her back to their planet. She feared he knew all about her various Taboos. Both of them. The thought of it, how much trouble she was in, gnawed at her insides.

“Mom!” Blanche was waiting inside the kitchen as Zofia stood there staring at the phone. She needed to call Tillie. She grabbed up the phone. “What about my party?”

“Your party?” Zofia hadn't even given a thought to this—all the planning, invitations had gone out weeks ago, the cake and ice cream, balloons, party favors—it hadn't even entered her mind, now after speaking with Stephen. She turned to face Blanche whose face twisted into a scowl. “I'm sorry, Blanche, I didn't expect this to happen. But it's by the decree of the Witenagemont that we attend the Feast.”

“Great! Everyone will come, and no one will be here, and I'll miss out on my sixteenth birthday!” she cried and withered into a kitchen chair, fists to her cheeks, elbows jammed onto the table. This wasn't the first time Blanche had made a big fuss over something she would rather do. It was her sixteenth birthday, but this couldn't be helped. Stephen came short of demanding they all attend. Even Tillie. How weird.

“I'll call Aunt Tillie and tell her what's happening,” Zofia said, pushing the numbers on the wall phone pad. “I don't know what else we can do.”

“When will we be back?” Blanche asked.

“I don't know…” the phone at the shop rang once and Tillie's voice was in her ear.

“Notions and Potions, we'll brew it and bag it, just for you.”

“Tillie!” Zofia was startled by the way she had just answered the phone. “What are you doing answering like that?”

“Oops,” Tillie's tight voice replied. “Sorry.”

“Never mind. Stephen and Paradeep just arrived and—”

“What? Now? In the middle of broad daylight? Are they mad?”

“Yes—I can't explain it all over the phone just now. But we're to go with them back to Euphoria and attend the Induction Feast tonight.”

“Tonight?” Tillie's craggy voice screeched. “What about Blanche's party?”

“I can't get out of this. It's an edict from the top,” Zofia said.

“Did they give a reason?”

“No.” But I've got a few ideas.

“Hum,” Tillie said. “It might be that Dorian's nephew is old enough to be Inducted by now.”

“Really? You think that might be why?”

“Must be…” Silence, then, “This one?” She suddenly sounded distracted. There were muffled voices, as though she'd just covered the mouth piece. Then she came back on. “It must be. What else could it be? Didn't he say?”

“Well, no.”

“When do you leave?”

“He said within the hour. He seemed to be in a hurry.”

“Paradeep?”

“No. Stephen.”

“I can't leave just now. I'll have to close up shop. How can I go if not with you?”

“You could use the Sorcerer's Tree, maybe?”

“Well, I could, I guess.”

“Would you mind, then, calling up as many people invited to Blanche's party as you can? I simply don't have the time.”

Tillie sighed. The register rang in Zofia's ear. “That's eleven seventy-five.” Tillie said in the background. “I'll begin making calls from here, and then when I get home.”

“Thanks Tillie. You're a peach.”

“You don't think it might have anything to do with—you know—?”

Zofia bit her lower lip in thought. “I hope not. Or I'm in big trouble.”