Authors: Rebecca A. Rogers
Tags: #Teen & Young Adult, #Historical Fiction, #Renaissance, #Science Fiction & Fantasy, #Fantasy, #Paranormal & Urban, #young adult teen werewolves fantasy magic historical
“There is naught ye can do for them further. They must rest,” said Lavenia.
Alaric nodded a few times. “And they shall be well by morning?”
“Very.” Lavenia smiled despite Alaric’s frown. “Now, off ye go.” She nearly shoved him out the door.
Alaric turned around to tell Lavenia he would be back, but she closed the door in his face. Baffled by Lavenia’s behavior, Alaric’s mind began spiraling with questions. Why had she returned without herbs, if that was her sole purpose of leaving the cottage? Why was her hair tangled, and her face and clothing fouled? Why was there a gaping tear on her skirt? Alaric did not have immediate answers to these queries, but he aimed to uncover them.
Several hours later, and wee into the morning, Ulric and Daciana awoke in a haze. Lavenia stood watch nearby, in case they attempted to escape. Her aides had attended to the baby, while Lavenia attended to Ulric and Daciana. Now, her apprentices and the child were fast asleep, as she looked after her unexpected guests.
“My congratulations to ye both,” Lavenia said, breaking the silence in the cottage. “Ye have made it through the night and are showing rapid signs of healing.”
Ulric tried to sit up, but his neck and body were sore, so he lay back down. “Where is my brother?”
Lavenia inspected him like a bird trapped in a cage. “I am afraid he is gone, for now. I sent him away until the sun rises.”
Ulric closed his eyes and thanked any higher beings who listened that his brother was all right. “And Daciana?” He gulped as he awaited a response.
“The same as ye,” replied Lavenia.
“Saints be praised!”
Lavenia moved about the room, placing vials of potions back in their respectful cabinets. She stirred a pot on the hearth, scooped two bowls full of stew, and brought them, along with two spoons, to Ulric and Daciana.
“Eat,” she said. “Ye need thy strength for what I am about to say.”
Ulric glanced at Daciana in the opposite room. She had the same perplexed look on her face as he felt was on his. What could Lavenia possibly share with them? He hardly knew her, and was only acquainted with the trysts she and his brother shared formerly. Mayhap she would explain the extent of their injuries, and how they should treat themselves once they walk out her door.
When Ulric and Daciana had finished the last remnants in their bowls, Lavenia collected the dishes and returned to stand in the doorway connecting both rooms.
“Ye will condemn what I am about to tell ye, but know I speak the truth,” Lavenia said. “The attack ye underwent in the forest was dreadful. Both of ye were bitten by a powerful wolf, one of myth and legend. The bite incited a curse to crawl into thy blood and under thy skin. Forevermore, ye both shall carry this burden.”
Ulric felt a chill wash over his body. “What are ye saying?” He did not want to hear it, nor did he want to believe it.
“I am saying ye are transforming into werewolves,” Lavenia stated, confirming Ulric’s deepest fears. “However, I can lessen this blow by formulating another curse, a
cure
to alleviate thy suffering.”
“If thou think I am going to be cursed yet again—” Daciana started.
“This second curse will ease thy troubles of becoming a creature of the night,” said Lavenia. “I can give ye powers beyond thy imaginings. The choice, nonetheless, is up to ye.”
Ulric studied Daciana’s terrified features, and a small pang twisted his gut. He wished then that Daciana had listened to him, that she would have remained inside the Lowell residence during the hunt. She would not be in this predicament had she obeyed.
A new thought struck him, though. “What of my brother? Is he infected with this blight, as well?”
Lavenia shook her head. “Nay, he is not. It seems the wolf did not choose him.”
At least he was spared
, thought Ulric. ’Twas inconvenient, still, that the creature chose Daciana and him. Why, though? What did they possess that was of importance to this wolf?
“These powers thou speak of,” Daciana began, “what are they?”
Lavenia found a chair and dragged it to the center of the room, where she sat. “The spell I will place on ye, should ye so choose to go forward with the enchantment, is only just that—a spell. The powers ye will receive from this spell are not mine to give ye; they are given by the Old Gods. They decide what ye should be blessed with, not I.”
Daciana breathed heavily, inward and outward. “What thou speak of is witchcraft and punishable, by law, with death. If any person should find out—”
Lavenia interjected, “Then I suggest ye keep thy mouth closed, for thy own good. Aye, death is the punishment, should ye be found out. If, however, ye keep quiet, ye shall be immortal—
powerful
—with abilities that defy logic. Very shortly, ye will be protectors of the forest, enemies to the moon and man, and eternally living in a world where death cannot touch ye. I would say that is a small price to pay for what ye are about to endure.”
“Does Alaric know this?” Ulric questioned.
“Nay, he does not, and it should remain so. Should ye tell another living being of thy curse, ye not only place thyself in danger, but also pass the curse on to thy children and theirs.”
Daciana stiffened as she remembered the conversation she had not so long ago with Frida. Everything had turned out exactly as Frida predicted. If only she had listened to Ulric and waited at home, none of this would have happened. But then, had she minded, Ulric would be in this ill-fated quandary apart from her, and he would observe her grow old, withered, and wrinkled, while he remained so young and handsome. She would have died like any normal human, and he would have watched, knowing he would never see her again. The thought of him moving on, completely alone in the world without her there by his side, split Daciana’s heart in two. Despite the situation, she was relieved the wolf bit her.
“I am ready,” Daciana said, lifting her chin. She did not believe there was ever a more opportune moment than this, so she would seize it by the throat and take charge of her destiny.
Lavenia did not seem surprised. She looked to Ulric and asked, “And ye? Will ye join her?”
Ulric had doubts written all over his face, Daciana noticed, but he stood and answered, “Aye, I am ready, as well.”
“So be it,” Lavenia said, before she cast the spell that would change their lives until the end of time.
Chapter Ten
A
laric waited until sunup before he returned to the scene of the attack. He was risking his life yet again just to pacify the inner demons haunting his mind. Lavenia’s appearance was too disheveled for him to believe she was out picking herbs. Even the way she shut the door in his face seemed odd. He was in search of the truth, and he would not cease until he deciphered the mystery.
Finding the exact location of the onslaught would prove to be difficult; ’twas late in the evening when it occurred, and he was not thinking quite clearly. Nevertheless, he knew he would not stop until he unearthed proof he was not losing his mind. ’Twas a funny thing, his mentality, shoving notions around his head like they were in a tavern brawl. Yet the ideas he formulated coincided with what he witnessed the night before, and how Lavenia emerged. He also noted the distance between her cottage and the forest was not remote.
Hours later, Alaric came upon the precise site where the wolf attacked his brother and Daciana. The bodies of those men who perished last night had already been removed from nearby, and Alaric followed the trail of broken twigs, paw prints, and snapped limbs . . . until they led him to a bush with a shred of fabric. The same piece of material torn from the skirt Lavenia wore.
Alaric struggled for air. He had intended to prove his mind wrong, but this tiny bit of fabric was attestation that his wits were sound. He knew what had to be done, and he dreaded the confrontation. Lavenia must be interrogated. For a long time, there had been talk among the townsfolk that Lavenia was practicing the dark arts, yet nobody had the courage to confront her, for fear of being hexed. Alaric was not afraid, and if anybody could challenge Lavenia, ’twould be him.
He marched off toward her cottage. Ulric and Daciana should have been awake, and Alaric wanted naught more than to confront them about what happened, about what Lavenia said after he was banished from her home. They would have the answers he desired.
A couple of dogs ambled about the cottage, eager to see Alaric, but he ignored them as he strode up to the front door and let himself in. The two apprentices were cleaning the tables and glanced up at Alaric’s unexpected arrival. It took him a moment to gather his reasoning, because Ulric and Daciana were nowhere to be seen.
Damn her
, he thought, knowing Lavenia sent them on their merry way before Alaric could return.
“Where is she?” he growled.
“Right here,” Lavenia said, as she casually ambled into view from the back of the home.
Alaric tried to restrain his temper, but ’twas proving to be difficult. “Mind explaining this?” He held up the small piece of cloth he found earlier.
Lavenia’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second, then returned to a glower. “Simple. I explained to ye I was searching for herbs in the forest. When I heard the cries emanating from those poor fellows, I took off in a sprint. My dress caught on some shrubbery.”
“Yet ye did not return here for a mere hour,” Alaric contended. “Does that not seem a bit odd? Where were ye during that time?”
Lavenia did not counter, at first, and when she could not supply a response, she plainly said, “Get out.”
“Not until ye explain what in the bloody hell is going on,” Alaric retorted. He crossed his arms in a display of defiance.
Lavenia lost her composure, then. “Get out!” Her apprentices fled to the back area of the cottage in fear.
“Nay,” said Alaric. “Ye are hiding something from me, and I intend to keep my feet planted here until I find out.”
Face red and blood boiling, Lavenia could no longer contain her emotions. “They are cursed. Thy brother and Daciana will forever walk this world as immortal beings, and they are slowly becoming the same creature ye hunted last night.”
Aye, the words departed from her lips, yet Alaric could not seem to grasp them. In the darkest recesses of his mind, he thought of this development, but he did not want to believe it true. Although, there they stood, face to face, Lavenia confirming everything he already knew. Alaric felt as if she punched his stomach.
“This cannot be true, for man cannot transform into beast,” he said, finally.
Lavenia pursed her lips.
“Even if ’twere true, my brother is no monster. Neither is Daciana.” He paced the room, ran clammy fingers through his hair, and bit back a cry of protest. “Do they know of this? Have ye told them?”
“Of course,” Lavenia replied. “And they know not to utter a word of their condition. Should they wag their tongues, they will be killed. Ye know witchcraft is forbidden, and people will believe they took part in black magic, even though they did not.”
“This is absurd! I-I . . .” Alaric could not form appropriate words for what he contemplated. He was torn between loathing the wolf, and pitying his brother and Daciana. ’Twas not their fault; they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. At present, they would be hunted for what they were. “Ye did this to them! Do not deny it.” He scowled at Lavenia, which did not worry her.
She lifted her chin. “I do not deny it, but I will not confirm it, either.”
“Damn you!” he said, as he stalked out the front door the same way he entered. All of the reflections swirling around in his head came at once, like a torrential downpour of rain. The thunderstorm of his mind blended malice and treachery into a perfect combination. She did this to spite him for their past. She took out her anger on his brother and another innocent woman. To serve what purpose? Jealousy? Rage? Hate?
’Twas time to oust the witch, once and for all.
Chapter Eleven
A
laric burst through the door at Murdock’s, searching for a particular man, one who would help with his dilemma. The Captain of the Watch stood near the bar, surrounded by a group of somber men. ’Twas horrible that Colchester lost Mr. Murdock the prior evening. Just as well, those other men had wives and children, and now naught but memories remained.
“I need thy help,” Alaric said, as he approached the Captain. He was a tall man, with graying hair and a thick moustache.
“Alaric, ’tis good to see ye made it out alive after last night. What of thy brother? Did he survive?”
Alaric glanced around at the other men, second-guessing whether he should speak openly in front of them, or in private with the Captain. He decided on the former. “My brother is well, but I have another important matter which I would like to discuss with ye.” He did not hesitate pushing the conversation toward the more serious topic. “I have reason to believe Lavenia is practicing the dark arts.”
The Captain smirked. “Do ye? And what proof can ye provide?”
Alaric could give naught more than a shred of material found on a bush. “This,” he said, offering the piece of cloth. “I found it on shrubbery near the scene of the attack. I had witnessed this type of fabric, and the color, before. The connection was not made at once, but my eyes beheld a tear in Lavenia’s skirts, the dye matching flawlessly.”