Lost in the Castle

~25~

I walked to the dark window instead, pausing there to watch the soft moonlight glitter off the snow. I shivered as the window pane fogged up from the heat emanating from my body, still warm after the bath. It looked very cold outside. Freezing cold. Don't think about him.

When I couldn't see anything anymore through the misted glass, I continued to my basin. While I cleaned my teeth and brushed my damp hair, I studied my reflection in the mirror. I was a mess; the dark rings under my eyes caused by the restless nights made me look old and frail. Frowning at my reflection, I finished in a hurry.

Walking back to my bed, I got an idea. There was a way to avoid both Katerina's company and my bed. Quick!

Rushing over to my bed, I grabbed my beloved blanket and wrapped it over my shoulders. I snatched my book from under the pillow and drew the curtains around completely, paying attention not to leave any gaps, hiding the bed from view. As a last thought, I arranged my slippers under the curtains, pointing out, making it look as if I was in bed, asleep. That should fool Katerina, Clara, and whoever else who might be willing to talk to me.

Barefooted, I tiptoed back to the fireplace and took a candle from the high mantelpiece. I noticed the key from the door leading to the spiral staircase lying there, next to the candles, and wondered however it got there. The last time I saw it... but there was no time to think about it now. I lit the candle from the fire and ran from the room as fast as I could without having the tiny flame blown out.

Not wanting to attract Katerina's attention to it, I left the door leading to the corridor half open as I had found it, but I closed the next one, leading to the library. Here, I found myself in near total darkness. I made my way across the room carefully, the single candle's flame insufficient to guide me both safely and fast towards Vlad's chamber. Finally, I reached the door I was aiming for and entered, closing it firmly behind me.

I hadn't been here since he left. The room was empty and cold, abandoned and uninviting. I remembered asking Katerina to keep the fire on in here. Obviously, she did not take my wishes as commands. Wasn't she supposed to listen to me?

I crossed the room guided by the long shafts of weak, ethereal moonlight streaming in through the windows and reached the fireplace, my feet freezing. At least the wood was already in; all I had to do was set it on fire. No big deal.

I put the book on the floor, then selected the smallest piece of wood I could see and brought it to my candle. It caught fire, but as I pushed it under the pile on the hearth, it died, mocking me with a hint of fume. I tried again and again, but all that I could see was a thin plume of smoke, no sign of a flame. I was freezing, barefoot on the stone floor. But I would not go back in my room. I set the candle on the hearth and leafed through my book. There were several blank pages at the end. I tore them out without hesitation, stuffing them under the pile of wood, then added the whole candle. That finally worked, and soon enough, I had a small fire on. But I was still cold, too cold to sleep on his bed, I realised. The heat of the fire would not reach me there, not anytime soon.

Walking over to the bed, I took a couple of furs lying on top of it and carried them to the fireplace. There, I spread them on the floor as close to the fire as was safe. Then I just sat there, wrapped in my blanket trying to warm myself up, but certain that the cold that was spreading through my body had its origin in my heart, and only Vlad's return would make it go away completely.

My errant, traitorous thoughts were not helpful, reminding me too often that now it was not only Vlad that was missing but Junior too was lost. It's your fault.

I opened my book on a random page, forcing myself to read to stop thinking.

'Therefore I write this in case... Take the papers that are with this, the diaries of Harker and the rest, and read them, and then find this great UnDead, and cut off his head, and burn his heart, or drive a stake through it, so that the world may rest from him.'

"Not helpful, Mr. Stoker!" I called, my desperation morphing into anger.

I snapped the book shut and sent it flying across the chamber, watching with utter satisfaction as it hit the floor with a loud thud, then continued skidding to the opposite wall.

I was definitely done with Stoker and his tale. At least for tonight... Or for the moment... I sighed, standing up from my nest of furs, feeling guilty for having mistreated it this way. That silly book is my only reminder, my only link with my other life, I thought as I went to retrieve it, straightened its crumpled pages, and brought it back to my makeshift bed. The book was innocent. But I would give anything to strangle its author.

After adding a few more pieces of wood into the fire, I nestled back among the furs, feeling bone-chillingly cold. I stared at the mesmerising flames dancing in front of me, weaving together, their bright orange centres morphing gradually into cobalt blue tips. Pulling my blanket closer around my shoulders, I tried to ignore the memory of the conversations with Vlad held in front of the fire in my room. I brushed impatiently at a lone tear rolling down my cheek. He will be back, I told myself, concentrating harder on the lively flicker filling my field of vision. Eventually, I started to feel my eyelids growing heavy.

I laid down, hovering on the verge of sleep, letting the flames weave themselves together with my first dreams, confused visions of vampire hunters and burning towers, people running along smoke filled corridors... Fire... Footfalls, running and pausing on thresholds. Doors opening, letting in multitude of distant, scared voices...

"Father, she is here!"

My eyes snapped open.

Junior.