Beauty's Beast (24 page)

“I'm afraid not.”

There was another knock at the door. Kristine blinked back her tears as she crossed the floor to admit Nan. The maid's eyes grew wide when she saw the wolf standing beside the bed.

“It's all right, Nan,” Kristine said, taking the tray from the girl's hands. “Thank you.”

Nan pointed at the wolf with a hand that trembled. “Where did that come from?”

“He is my pet,” Caddaric said smoothly. “You needn't be afraid. He won't harm you.”

“Your pet? I've never in all my life seen a wolf that big! Why, he's as big as a pony. How did he get here?”

Caddaric raised one brow. “I conjured him, of course. I am, after all, a wizard.”

Nan glanced at Kristine, at the wolf, at Caddaric, then hurried out of the room.

“Do you intend to tell the staff about this?” Caddaric asked.

Kristine shook her head. “No. I shall tell them that Erik was called away on business.”

“Yes, perhaps that would be best,” the wizard agreed. He let out a heavy sigh. “I do not look forward to telling Edith.”

Kristine nodded, glad she would not have to tell Erik's mother that the transformation was complete.

She set the tray on the table and removed the lid. The sight of the roast beef somehow made it all real. She put the plate on the floor and stepped back.

The wolf looked at it, then looked up at her. With a shake of his head, he ran out of the room.

Moments later, there was a scream from the kitchen followed by the crash of crockery.

Caddaric and Kristine hurried downstairs to find Erik scratching at the back door. Mrs. Grainger stood with her hack to the wall, her face as white as her apron.

“It's all right, Mrs. Grainger,” Kristine said. She opened the door and the wolf ran outside. “He's harmless.”

“Harmless! I've never in all my life seen a wolf as big as that one. However did the beast get into the house?”

“He belongs to Caddaric. Didn't Nan tell you?”

Mrs. Grainger shook her head. “Will it be staying here, in the house?”

“Yes.”

Mrs. Grainger sank down onto one of the kitchen chairs. A moment later, Yvette came bursting into the room. “There's a huge black wolf in the yard!”

“It's all right, Yvette,” Kristine said. “He's quite tame.”

Caddaric grinned. “I think I had best go and inform the rest of the staff.”

Kristine nodded. “Thank you.”

“Talk to the staff about what?”

All heads turned as Edith appeared in the kitchen doorway.

“Whatever is going on?” Edith glanced at Mrs. Grainger's pale face, at Kristine's red-rimmed eyes, at the grave expression on her husband's face. “Oh,” she exclaimed softly.

“Come, my dear,” Caddaric said, and wrapping one arm around Edith's shoulder, he led her out of the room.

Kristine patted Mrs. Grainger's hand. “I doubt if anyone will be having breakfast this morning,” she said. “You might send some tea up to Erik's mother.”

“Yes, my lady.” Mrs. Grainger stood up.

Heavy-hearted, Kristine left the kitchen and returned to her room. Finding a sheet of paper, she sat down and began to write.

It was the most difficult letter she had ever written.

He ran effortlessly, tirelessly. Two days had passed since the transformation. The reality of it was his worst nightmare come true. He ran for miles. He killed a rabbit, devouring the poor creature in three quick bites. The meat and blood were sweet on his tongue. He drank from the stream that ran behind the castle, basked in the sun. And all the while his mind screamed that it could not be true. Each morning he woke in Kristine's room, hoping it had all been a dream. And each morning he faced the truth in her eyes.

He had thought himself prepared for the final transformation. For days before it happened, he had known it would soon be upon him and still he had not been prepared for the reality of it, the sheer unadulterated horror of it. The pain of it. He recalled the look of shock, of pity, in Kristine's eyes when she had first seen him. He had yearned to tell her he loved her, that he was sorry he had involved her in this nightmare, but of course he could not.

A low whine rose in his throat as he recalled the sight of her tears, the feel of her hands gently stroking his fur. Charmion had said he would always remember that he had been a man; now he prayed he would forget, prayed that the beast would take over his mind as well. As much as he feared losing the memory of his humanity, he knew it would be a blessing. It was too painful to be near Kristine, to see the pity in her eyes, to know he would never again hold her in his arms, that he would never be a father to their child.

He had promised to stay until the transformation was complete, and he had fulfilled that promise. He rose each morning with the intention of leaving Hawksbridge, and each day Kristine begged him to stay until the babe was born. And because he had nothing else to give her but his presence, because he could not bear the sadness in her eyes, he stayed. As soon as the child was born, he would leave. He would go to Charmion, and he would destroy her, or be destroyed himself.

Throwing back his head, he began to howl, the feral cry filled with all the grief in his heart, all the anguish in his soul.

Caddaric and Edith stared at Kristine in stunned silence.

Edith shook her head. “You did what?”

“I thought you should know. I sent a letter to Charmion, offering to give her my child if she would break the spell.”

Kristine took a deep breath. She had torn up the first letter she had written. And the second. Three days had passed since the awful transformation, three long days, and lonely nights. This morning, she had written a new letter. Even now, Brandt was carrying her missive to Charmion.

“You cannot mean it,” Edith said, her face pale with shock.

“I do.”

Caddaric stroked his beard thoughtfully. “You do not intend to invite her into the house?”

“I don't know. I hadn't thought about that. I only know I cannot go on like this. I cannot bear to see Erik as he is. I cannot bear to see the pain in his eyes. It's worse than anything I ever imagined. He's so unhappy.”

“And what of Erik?” Edith asked quietly. “Do you think he would approve of this?”

Kristine shook her head. “I'm sure he would not.”

“Have you asked him?”

“No. I know what his answer would be.”

They were able to communicate with him, so long as they asked him questions that could be answered yes or no. But she would not ask for his permission. This was something she had to do, even if he hated her for the rest of his life.

She pressed a hand to her back, massaging the dull ache that had been plaguing her since early morning.

“And if the witch agrees, what then? Do you think she can be trusted?”

“I don't know,” Kristine replied. “I only know I have to try.”

“Caddaric?” Edith looked at her husband.

He shook his head. “I have never known her to have any honor.” He began to pace the room. “She wants the child. She will know that, should she revoke the spell, Erik will not rest in his efforts to get the child back.” He stopped in front of Kristine. “You cannot bargain with her. We can only hope that, should she come here, the wards I have placed around the castle will be strong enough to repel her.”

“I cannot believe you made this decision without consulting us,” Edith said.

“I'm sorry.”

“How long ago did you send the letter?”

“I sent Brandt early this morning.”

Caddaric grunted softly. “I think we must lock Erik up.”

“What? How can you even suggest such a thing?”

“It's for his own good,” Caddaric explained. “He spends most of his time outside. Brandt will have arrived at Cimmerian Crag by now. Charmion could arrive here at any moment. I do not think it would be wise for wolf and witch to confront each other.”

Kristine shook her head. “I cannot. I cannot lock him up.”

“I will take care of it. Call him.”

Kristine left the room and went out the back door. Was there no end to this nightmare? Cupping her hands around her mouth, she called Erik's name.

Several minutes passed, and then she saw him running toward her. She forced a smile as he rubbed against her legs.

“Come,” she said, “Caddaric wishes to see you.”

The wolf looked up at her, a question in his dark gray eyes. It was disconcerting, seeing Erik's eyes in the face of the wolf.

“I don't know what he wants.” Fighting back tears, she laid her hand on his head. “I love you.”

Whining softly, he licked her hand.

Caddaric was waiting for them in the library. He closed the door once Erik and Kristine were inside.

Erik stared up at Kristine.

“It's all right,” she said.

“Erik, look at me,” Caddaric said, his voice soft, hypnotic.

The wolf looked at the sorcerer, his eyes filled with suspicion.

“Erik, you must trust me,” Caddaric said. “Listen to my voice.”

The wolf shook his head, his hackles rising.

“Erik, it will be all right.” Kristine knelt beside him and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Please, you must do as he says.”

The wolf looked at her, a look of such love, such trust, she thought her heart would break.

She heard the wizard's voice, speaking in a language she did not understand, felt his power coalesce, felt it brush against her skin. There was a gentle whooshing sound, and Erik was gone.

She looked up at Caddaric, her eyes wide with panic. “What have you done?”

“Nothing, my lady. I have only sent him to the dungeon. It is the only place I could think of where he cannot escape. We dare not keep him in one of the rooms. One of the maids might accidentally open the door, or he might leap through a window.”

“The dungeon,” Kristine said, her voice tinged with despair.

“He will be comfortable there. There are furs for him to rest on. Fresh meat. Water. Clean straw on the floor.”

“But to lock him up . . .”

“Kristine, it is for his own good. I had promised not to tell you this, but now I fear I must. It was Erik's intent to go to Charmion, to become her pet, to let her think he was fully her creature, and then try to destroy her. He had asked me if I could find a spell to protect him from her.” Caddaric shrugged. “I found one that might have worked, but there is no way to be sure.”

“What kind of wizard are you, anyway?” Kristine cried.

Caddaric drew himself up to his full height. “I do the best I can, Lady Trevayne, but the truth is, Charmion is the most powerful witch I have ever known.”

 

 

Erik paced the cell, his anger growing, spreading, until he thought he would vomit it up. So she had decided he was nothing but an animal after all, to be locked away in a cage.

He howled his fury until the cold stone walls echoed with his rage, all the while remembering another dungeon, one filled with mirrors.

He had to get out of here, had to find Charmion, had to destroy her before the child was born.

He heard the sound of the dungeon door opening, footsteps on the cold stones. Her footsteps.

“Erik?” Kristine knelt at the door, her beautiful green eyes glistening with tears. “I'm sorry, so very sorry.”

She reached through the bars.

And he growled at her. Growled his anger, his frustration, his helplessness.

She jerked her hand back, her eyes wide and afraid. “Erik?”

Dropping to his belly, he crawled toward her, whining softly.

“Oh, Erik,” she breathed. “Caddaric told me you were going to try to destroy Charmion. That's why we locked you up.” It was not fully a lie, she thought, nor fully the truth. “We couldn't let you go. Please forgive me, but I cannot bear to lose you.”

He stared up at her, the need to speak clawing at his throat. So much to tell her.
I love you. I love you. . . .

“Caddaric said he thought he had found a spell to protect you from her evil, but he said there was no way to be sure it would work. You understand, don't you? I couldn't let you go. I just couldn't.”

She reached through the bars again, and he licked her hand.
Kristine, Kristine, know that I will always love you. . . .

“Kristine? Are you down here?”

“Yes, Caddaric.”

He was at her side in minutes, his face flushed. “I think I may have found the solution.” He glanced at Erik, then tapped her on the shoulder. “Come upstairs, we need to talk.”

Kristine glanced at Erik. “All right,” she said, but when she started to rise, the wolf took her hand in his mouth and tugged softly. “I don't think he wants us to go.”

Caddaric looked at the wolf, disconcerted, as always, to see human eyes in the wolf's face. “I think we should discuss this upstairs.”

Erik growled low in his throat.

“All right,” Kristine said. “We'll stay.”

“Kristine . . .”

“This involves Erik, too. He has a right to know.”

“Very well. Brandt returned moments ago with a message from . . .” Caddaric glanced at the wolf. Erik still held Kristine's hand in his mouth. “Charmion has agreed to your terms.”

Erik tugged on Kristine's hand, a growl that sounded very much like a question rising in his throat.

“I sent Charmion a note,” Kristine explained. “I told her I would . . . I would give her our baby if she would revoke the curse.”

Erik shook his head, a sharp growl of protest rumbling deep in his throat.

“Erik, it's the only way,” Kristine said. “Do you think this is easy for me? Do you think I want that witch to have my child? Our child?” She sniffed back her tears. “You can hate me if you wish, I don't care! I don't care. I have to do this. Please understand.”

He released her hand, his tongue stroking lightly over the marks his teeth had left in her tender flesh.
Forgive me, beloved, forgive me.

And then, with a growl, he shook his head again, needing to make her understand, desperate for her to know that there was no way to break the spell, that anything Charmion promised would be a lie. Only Dominique had the power to revoke the hideous curse.

He tried desperately to form the words, howled with frustration when he could not.

Caddaric helped Kristine to her feet and drew her away from the bars. “Come,” he said. “I think our presence is upsetting him.”

“I'll come to see you later,” Kristine said. Blinded by her tears, she let the wizard lead her away.

 

 

“What solution have you found?” Kristine asked.

“I do not trust Charmion,” Caddaric replied. He sat on a low sofa beside Edith, holding her hand. “We cannot allow you to go to her with the child. In her own realm, her power is far too strong. She could take the babe and destroy Erik, and there would be nothing you could do to stop her. Nor can we allow her to come here, to Hawksbridge.”

Edith looked up at her husband. “Caddaric, what are you trying to say?”

“We need to find neutral ground, someplace where her dark magic will have no power.”

“Where might that be?” Edith asked.

“You are certain you wish to do this, Kristine? Certain you want to exchange your child for Erik's life?”

“Yes.”

“Very well. Her evil magic is of little effect within the sanctuary of holy ground. We will meet at the chapel near Hawksbridge Cross. The priest there will be entrusted to hold the child and instructed to give the babe to Charmion only when Erik has been returned to his human form.”

“But if her magic is of no effect in the chapel, how will she revoke the spell?”

“Revoking an evil spell is not considered evil magic. There is a room in the cellar of the church. We will put Erik there. Once Erik is human again, the priest will give the babe to Charmion. When she is gone, we will free Erik.”

“How will we keep Erik from going after her?”

“That, my dear, will be up to you. However, if I know Charmion, she will not return to Cimmerian Crag.”

“Why not? It's her home.”

“Only one of many. I think she will take the child to her holding in the south. It is a far more cheerful place, if any place where that witch dwells can be considered cheerful. Dominique was born there.” Caddaric drummed his fingers on the ebony table beside the sofa. “The other alternative is to put a spell on Erik that will make it impossible for him to find Cimmerian Crag, should she return.” The wizard grunted softly. “That may be the wisest thing to do, in any case.”

Kristine nodded. Would the wizard's plan work, she wondered, and then thrust all doubt from her mind. It had to work.

It was their only hope.