Into The Shadows, page 14
She forced herself to stop pacing as she grumbled in annoyance. What to do… what to do… the princess thought to herself, tapping her fingers incessantly against her folded arms. Anna glanced out at the window. It had to be around mid or late afternoon by now.
Where was Hera during all of this maddening free time?
Since curiosity was the only thing Anna had to explore, she ventured out of the armory and decided to start searching for Hera. She looked in all the usual places: the library, the archives, her bedchambers, and the dining room. That left only one more haunt – the gardens.
In this weather? the princess thought to herself.
Anna, exhaling in defeat, pulled on her coat and headed outside.
It had grown much colder in the past few weeks. The sky was clear every evening, and during the day, it was overcast, blocking the sun from shinning its welcoming rays onto the rather tensed and heavy-laden village. Not so much as sighting a vampire for this long was rarely a good sign.
Anna trudged through the snow, a chilling breeze rustling through her hair.
"Hera?" she called out into the wonderland of ice and snow. She turned the bend towards the gardens.
"I'm over here, Anna!" came the sound of the woman's voice.
Anna narrowed her eyes a bit to see Hera sitting curled up on a stone bench, dressed in a heavy black and burgundy cloak, her hair wrapped up in a pashmina scarf so only a few strands of her hair could be seen, a book in hand… of course. The gypsy couldn't help but smile as she made her way over to the woman who was crazy enough to be reading outside in this kind of weather when there were perfectly good fires blazing within the manor.
Hera looked up from her novel and removed the ear buds from her ears, turning off the music she had been listening to.
"You finally got bored enough to come looking for me," Hera pointed out.
Anna's grin turned sheepish as she rubbed her hands together before thrusting them into her pockets, trying to ward off the cold.
"I'm pathetic, I know."
Hera snapped the volume shut and placed her iPod into the pocket within her cloak as she swung her legs off the seat, making room for Anna to join her.
"What were you reading?" Anna asked, apparently trying to strike up some sort of conversation.
The feeble attempt amused the redhead.
"Frederick Augustus Rauch's Psychology, or a View of the Human Soul." Anna nodded in an "uh-huh" sort of fashion, clearly having no idea who Rauch's was or what sort of things he wrote. Hera took pity on the princess and decided to change the subject. "Besides fighting and hunting, is there anything you enjoy doing, Anna?"
"You make me sound so barbaric."
Hera laughed.
"I didn't mean to. I promise."
"It's alright," she assured the woman and she thought about the query for a moment. "I enjoy music, I suppose. My mother, from what I can remember, used to love it as well. She played the fiddle – something my grandfather had taught her. After she died, my father got rid of the instrument. He disposed of a lot of things that reminded him of her."
"How did she die?"
"I thought you knew?"
"I know she was killed by Aleera, but I'm not aware of the particulars."
Anna stood.
"Do you mind if we go for a walk or something? Otherwise I'm going to freeze."
Hera agreed and followed Anna as they wandered through the gardens and soon the outskirts of the woods that bordered the village itself. As they walked, Anna related the tale of her mother.
"My mother's name was Katarina, as you know. When I was a young child, my father used to say that she was the most beautiful woman in all of Transylvania, and that Aleera became so jealous that she killed her. When I was thirteen years of age, I learned the real story," Anna began, her eyes gazing in front of her in a thoughtful manner as if remembering…
"My mother never really cared for our family's war with Count Dracula," Anna began. "She met my father on one of his many journeys to Rome. She had gone there herself on holiday while my father went to pray for his family. They met, fell in love, and he discovered she was a native to Budapest. He accompanied her to her home and after a few months of courting, they were married and he returned home to Visceria with a new bride.
"Unfortunately, she was also unwittingly thrust into a war between my father's legacy and the Count. My mother was always very sympathetic to both sides. She had done her own research on the Count's history and she pitied him for the way my ancestor, Valerious the Elder, supposedly treated him. My father said she was soft, weak for making excuses for Dracula. Others said she was the most compassionate woman who ever entered this war. And compassion is what killed her.
"She had caught Aleera terrorizing a little girl, a young orphan whose father had just been killed by Marishka and Verona. My mother intervened and Aleera tortured and then finally fed from my mother instead. But instead of sucking her dry and putting her out of her misery, Aleera left my mother alive, feeding her just enough of her own blood to turn her into what my family was struggling to destroy. When my father found out what she had become…"
Hera watched out of the corner of her eye as Anna briskly wiped away the tear that had started to tumble down her cheek and seeing the princess thus moved the young woman. It was clear the ending of this story was too painful to narrate, so Hera finished it for her.
"Your father had to kill her, didn't he?" Hera asked. The princess took a deep breath, getting control over her emotions as she nodded, confirming her suspicion. "Anna, I'm so sorry. I had no idea."
"It's alright. I will see her again. We Transylvanians always look on the brighter side of death."
Hera chuckled, recognizing this bit of dialogue.
"There's a brighter side of death?" she mused.
"Of course. It's just harder to see…"
Hera smirked. Oh, all she needed now was an appearance by Van Helsing and everything would be "complete". But they still had a good many months to go before he'd arrive.
After talking rather at length about the war with Dracula, the sun began to sink behind the horizon, the clouds that had been looming overhead all day dissipating in a matter of minutes as a visage of diamond stars appeared in the sky that now resembled velvet the shades of midnight blue, a dark, rich violet, and the deepest black.
Hera was quickly learning that night skies here in Transylvania were infinitely superior to anywhere else she had ever been. Perhaps it was the atmosphere of the place, or some secret enchantment, the supernatural forces at work. Whatever it was, she had never seen stars so beautiful.
Eventually, the women decided to eat supper in the village. Although the town itself seemed cold and lifeless from the outside, within the wood walls and behind the filthy glass of the old windows was a warmth and spirit that surprised Hera time and time again. Life had been undeniably difficult for the people of Visceria, and though to a stranger they might appear harsh and depressing, in that moment – in the dead of night ironically enough – they were absolutely teeming with life.
Lively music was being scratched out on the worn strings on a fiddle and thumbed masterfully on a guitar while nearly the entire company sang along to the familiar tunes. Some played cards while others enjoyed the other's company over a hot and savory meal and some of the foulest beers Hera had ever tasted. Laughter constantly rolled throughout the room as jokes were told or people attempted to sing.
The scene was fascinating to Hera.
These people who had lived with death always lingering on their doorstep were so happy and blissful, even with all the losses they had experienced, the tragedies, the heartaches, the horrors. They still chose to smile, to keep on living, and for the first time in Hera's life did Anna's traditional saying truly make sense: There must've been a brighter side of death, because everyone in Visceria could see it.
To Anna, it meant being reunited with her mother, an end to the nightmares that never slept here in Transylvania. To the villagers, it meant an end to the horror. They were all united in a single belief that any shred of light can dispel the darkness. In that moment, as Hera watched Anna dance around and sing with some of the locals, she wasn't their princess. She was their equal.
Hera took another drink of the cooled beer in her mug as she continued to observe the others crammed within the inn. As of right now, they were all singing the most ridiculous folk song Hera had ever heard. From what she could translate, it was about a girl who was so in love with her reflection, one day she looked into a well and fell inside, only to be saved by the boy she had called ugly just the day before.
Hera snickered throughout the entire thing as she listened, Anna having moved back to her seat at the table, still humming to herself.
"Are they always like this?" Hera asked curiously.
"Who? The people? Not always. Though they usually come to life in the evening."
"Clearly."
"So, in your time, are there any crazy folk songs that everyone knows?"
"Of course, but I think the ones in the future are far more scandalous than any of those I've heard tonight. Before I arrived, my generation had developed this bizarre fascination with singing about butts."
"The future sounds so strange," the princess said with a laugh before taking a long drink. "I'm so glad we came here tonight!"
"I can see that," Hera replied with a knowing smirk.
"How do you get your hair to change colors like that?" Anna suddenly asked, taking one of the stray locks that had escaped the pashmina wrap that Hera's hair was tucked away in.
"Hair dye," the young woman explained. "Remember, we had this conversation thirty minutes ago? The marmalade color is pretty much all faded now."
"I like your hair better like this anyway. The other color reminds me too much of Aleera."
"And we can't have that, now can we?"
"It doesn't matter. You're a lot nicer than Aleera is anyway," the princess proclaimed and Hera just chuckled in amusement as Anna got up again, grabbing one of the local village men by the hand.
The pair began to dance about the inn, the company all clapping to the rhythm of their steps before Anna and her partner suddenly tripped over one another's feet, toppling over onto the floor. The room exploded into a fit of laughter.
Anna was drunk.
And drunk-Anna was kind of hilarious.
But, like all happy moments, this one was soon shattered by a shrilling laughter that rang out in the night air like an icy wind, the music screeching to an abrupt halt as an eerie hush fell over the crowd. Every eye in the room began darting about, some looking up at the ceiling while others quickly turned to the windows and doors.
Hera knew that laugh from somewhere, but where, she couldn't be sure. But by the expression on Anna's face, Hera could tell that the princess recognized who it was.
"Oh God. They're here…"
"Who?" Hera asked unwittingly.
It should have seemed obvious, but the alcohol in her system was hindering her usual astuteness. Anna stood up slowly as the villagers all listened to the laughter that echoed in the night. It was almost beautiful – like a siren song, although a tad shrill. The gentleman that Anna had been dancing with earlier, his name she had learned was Aurel, stood up and glanced over at Hera.
"The brides," he whispered, but everyone heard what he said, the two words, as if on cue, followed by that unnerving laughter, now accompanied by two other familiar voices.
"Dracula's brides?" Hera clarified.
Aurel nodded his head solemnly as Hera's gaze turned back to Anna who was staring at the window that led to the outside cold, the glass obscured with fog from the contrasting heat inside of the inn. Anna's eyes were fixed, as though she had seen something.
"Lock the door and close the drapes," she whispered to the innkeeper who immediately obeyed as the villagers huddled together around their warrior princess.
The anxiety and tension in the room quickly became oppressive. Mothers grabbed hold of their children as the men held to their wives, standing in front of them in a protective manner. The barmaids hid behind their customers and all hid behind Anna, their fearless leader.
"Hera," Anna called softly and she motioned for her to join the rest of the group.
The woman was about to comply, but the sounds of the brides just outside the building rang out once more and Hera froze in place when it dawned on her who was laughing. She knew that laugh.
A chill ran down Hera's spine.
"Aleera," she breathed almost inaudibly. The shrill was joined by the sound of another crawling about on the rooftop above them, the voices muted, yet distinguishable. "Marishka…"
Hera's eyes found Anna's, the princess having unsheathed her silver-plated sword, the one that had been blessed by the pope in Rome on one of her father's many visits. Oh, did she silently pray that it would accomplish the purpose for which it had been made: to destroy the devil's concubine – particularly that of the red-haired vampire.
"Can they get in here?" Hera asked quietly.
"Oh they'll get in," the innkeeper said eerily. "They always get in. It starts with that laughter, and then the most deafening silence. And just when you think they've gone…"
Suddenly, the sounds outside the inn ceased and the night became still and silent once more, but the tension in the air was heavy, so heavy Hera was certain she could feel it weighing down on her shoulders, threatening to press her into oblivion. It was maddening, this uneasy quiet. She glanced back over at the innkeeper whose eyes were full of fear.
"They're here," he breathed.
As if on cue, the front door flew open and several of the women in attendance screamed as the wood shattered and went flying across the room.
"Knock, knock? Anybody home?" came a melodious voice from the mist that filled the doorway. It gradually began to dissipate as a woman appeared, dressed in the most evocative gown Hera had ever seen.
The newcomer was certainly beautiful, far more beautiful in person than initially anticipated. The color of her harem-styled attire was that of a deep pink, the shade accenting the fiery orange color of her hair. Her skin was deathly pale, soft and toned, her full, nubile breasts erupting from the front of her indecently low-cut gown, catching the attention of every eye in the room, male and female alike.
She walked with an arrogance and grace that strangely befitted her, like that of her master, her eyes dancing about the room. The bride stopped in the center of the establishment and placed her hands on her hips as a twistedly sensuous smile curved her red stained lips.
"Good evening, everyone," Aleera cooed. "Marishka, dear sister… they're all speechless!"
Another woman entered the inn through the shattered doorway, this one as beautiful as the first, although her attire was far more revealing than that of her counterpart. She was every part the smoldering temptress.
"They must have missed us most cruelly," Marishka purred, standing beside her sister.
Her luscious, wavy blonde hair matched the gold of her attire and the cat-yellow of her glowing eyes. Her toned stomach was a sight to be seen and for the briefest of moments, Hera caught herself envying the female's seemingly flawless physique.
Although each soul in the room knew the danger these women brought with them, that didn't mean that the two weren't candy for the eyes. They were every man's desire, sirens of the soul, molded from the darkest of fantasies.
Just like the Count must be for every woman, Hera silently mused.
Marishka and Aleera noticed Anna within the crowd and both women grinned toothy smiles as their canines extended.
"Hello, Princess," Aleera purred.
Anna stood her ground bravely as the other villagers backed away from the incoming bride, struck dumb with fear like stupid cattle being herded in a barn as Marishka growled at them tauntingly, threatening to pounce at any moment.
"It has been so long, your grace, since we last met," Aleera continued as she moved towards the gypsy princess.
One of the villagers went to run for the exit, the fear and stress becoming too much to bear, but Marishka grabbed him by the throat and threw him against the wall, knocking the man unconscious before he could obtain his freedom. She laughed wickedly as she stalked over to him, lifting him up as if his dead-weight were no trifle, and she placed him on a table before crawling on top of him, fangs bared.
"Aleera, darling, come feed!" she called. "Verona won't be back for a while longer."
"Fill me a glass, Marishka," the bride replied, her brown irises starting to turn an unnatural violet as she locked eyes with the Valerious in front of her.
Anna raised her sword to strike, but the vampire was too quick. She grabbed the princess by the wrist, knocking her sword out of her grip and holding tight, forcing the gypsy to her knees.
"That's right, Anna… bow to me…" the vampire mocked.
Hera watched as the remaining villagers took the brides' distraction as an opportunity to run for their lives. She, however, remained where she was, having gone unnoticed by the two women. Marishka got off her dead meal after sucking him dry and she licked her lips dramatically before joining her younger sister.
"A pity the master will not permit us to kill you as of yet," Aleera replied sourly.
"But he didn't say we couldn't taste her," Marishka pointed out.
"The master would not approve, Marishka," Aleera stated, but the look in her eyes said otherwise. The way she scrutinized Anna was borderline sexual and it even made Hera uncomfortable. "But what he doesn't know can't hurt him…"
Marishka grabbed Anna by the hair and pulled her head back slowly, running her long finger along the princess' neck, tracing her pulsating jugular.
"Such a beautiful throat, is it not sister?"
"Yes. I can't wait to scar it," Aleera hissed and she went to bite, but a chair collided with the back of her head, the wood smashing to pieces as it hit her skull. The vampire dropped the gypsy princess to the ground in surprise, Anna rendered temporarily unconscious when her head hit the edge of a neighboring table.
