“You are too quick to make that assumption, Laurentz. There is more at play here than you are capable of understanding.”
“You’re right. I don’t understand it. You’ve protected Rune, didn’t give away her whereabouts when he asked you, yet you’ve agreed she’s dangerous. And this,” I gesture back toward the room with the endless rows of cradles. “
What is this
?”
“There are reasons I don’t tell you everything. Things that could hurt you. The money bag is hush money, Laurentz. The bishop must believe I am loyal.”
“Are you?”
“I would have hoped you’d know me enough to answer that for yourself, but I’ve purposely kept myself at an arm’s length from you all these years. Keeping you safe has been my only intention, Laurentz.”
“I don’t understand. Safe from what?”
My father shakes his head as if saying he cannot,
will
not, answer that question for me just yet. “I’ve raised you in a grim world of alliances, raised you to question each card dealt to you. I suppose now is when I ask myself if I’ve done well in this.”
Like Rune, my father has become a mystery I now need to solve. Everything he ever was to me, is to me now, is uncertain.
“And have you?” I ask.
He looks into my face with worry, loss, and years of distance, all collected into one deep stare. “I don’t know.”
“The bishop has dealt a new card, hasn’t he? One you are afraid of.”
I am onto this. He nods slowly, telling me we tread on thin ice.
“It’s a game he’s been playing for a very long time.” He expels a long sigh that echoes around us. “What you feel for that girl of yours is a card you must hide beneath your sleeve,” he says carefully. “She left Eltz. Take your horse and ride until you find her. Find her before anyone else does.”
I’ve never seen my father like this before. He won’t allow me to take measure of our conversation for too long. He won’t allow me to waste time trying to figure all this out. As soon as we reach the bottom of the steps, far away from the nursery, my father turns to me. “I have seen things I cannot explain, been privy to secrets I should know nothing about. For years I have offered my loyalty to him and kept quiet. But mark my words, my son; sometimes it is best
not
to know. Find that witch of yours. Find her and hide her someplace safe.” He leans closer, his eyes dark with dread. “Both of your lives depend on it now, for the bishop is a dangerous man.”
Chapter 44
Rune
I
‘ve known the forest all my life, and yet how I see it right now has never been so magnified, nor so dangerously beautiful. I am acutely aware of what I see between the boughs, of what is ahead of me, as well as behind me. I’ve learned to listen to the slight sounds muffled against the forest floor, learned to distinguish what comes from the horse I ride and what I must be alert for. As I lead the horse through the trees, further away from the safety of Eltz, I hope that his black coat will hide us from what goes undetected.
Wind, please make our journey swift
.
Somewhere to the right of the tree line lies the road to the city of Bamberg. Even amongst the chaos the day Laurentz helped me escape the Drudenhaus, I recognize it, and I stay away from veering too close. It’s quite possible they still search for me, that a bounty is upon my head. If the city is anything like my own village, then the townspeople will be hunting for any way possible to put extra food on their tables, and a witch hunt will bring a high reward. My mother was the Witch of Bavaria. If Angeline knew that, then the others will, too, and my capture and execution will be a spectacle sure to draw an even larger crowd than the first time.
Do they believe the witch’s daughter could be worse than she? More powerful? More cunning? Though uncomfortable, I talk myself into using that status to give me strength. Instilling fear in others may be the only way to ensure my survival.
I smile at the familiar gurgling stream that cuts a pattern through the earth. What began on the property of Eltz has now transitioned into the little trickle flowing next to where the horse walks. The stream closest to the cottage was never wide, but narrow in odd places as it wound around the trees and roots, sometimes flowing beneath the ground, and then poking back out. The water I follow is doing just that, and I know if I continue along it, I will find my way home.
Fear and worry distort my sense of time, but not direction, and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry out loud when I see the forest floor rise into a horizontal wall of green a few yards away. The fading afternoon light reveals I’ve reached the beginning of the hedge. I am just feet from the line of the village, and as much as I’d like to walk closer to it, just to make sure it’s really there and not an illusion, I steer the horse the other way.
It’s been too long since I’ve felt this joyful, but I don’t let the happiness shadow my need to stay invisible. No one can see me or find me. I’m as good as dead if they do. And then I see the crumbled ruins of my home. I slip from the saddle and fall to the ground, nervous I’ve made too much noise, but no one comes. My bones ache like I have aged a thousand years. I wonder how anyone can ride for days without breaking every bone in their body. Night envelops the forest, but the rising moon gives edges to the shadows. I give the stallion’s hind quarters a slap, sending him off into the forest alone. I have no need for him anymore.
I’d like to run to my home, but I stay quiet and guarded. No matter how ruined, how sad it is, Matilde is here, in every stone and slab. I am here, too. It never occurred to me how much of my old self I had to leave behind. I wonder if I had a looking glass if I’d even recognize the girl I used to be.
Whatever was left after the fire has been taken, and I’m sure the lonely little structure has now become part of the grisly tales of this forest. It is a new tale now, perhaps living forever in the minds of children at their bedtimes. How the old cottage from the Black Forest, the one where the daughter of a terrible witch lived, burned to the ground one night. What once held visions of the future is a place now lost in the past, haunted. No one will ever come back, and because of this, it is safe for me to spend the night here.
Rocks slip and tumble off to the left of where I stand, and I begin to wonder if I am wrong to think this place is safe. I crouch low just as a black boot steps into the ruins. I see the outline of a figure, but it is concealed in shadow. I’ve gotten this far on my own—I can’t let myself be seen. Who knows what would become of me? Witch or not, I’m a girl alone in the dark, in the forest.
I quietly fit a large, jagged stone into the palm of my hand, ready to use it if I have to, and then I look up and see the shock of hair that has become tousled from riding. The familiar strong jaw lining his face catches the moonlight falling between the trees. He doesn’t speak, but I hear him, and he sighs with relief as I stand and the moon reveals us to one another.
I land in his arms, just where I’ve aimed. Even here, in this broken place, it is the way he holds me that tells me I am home. The ruins may hold the echoes of who I used to be, but when I look up into his eyes, I only see who I am now—the girl in his arms, the girl who forgives him for being frightened and running off.
“How did you know?”
“I knew you would find your way home.” Laurentz bends closer, resting his head wearily, thankfully, upon my forehead. “Would you also believe my father told me to come after you?”
I let out a tired sigh. “No, I don’t believe that one.”
He takes my hand in his, pressing his thumb to my palm. “People are scared of what they don’t understand. They make rash decisions; they panic. You are far too valuable to be at the mercy of one mistake, especially mine. Rune, you frighten me.”
“I scare you?”
With a smirk, he admits, “Very much so.”
Part of me revels in this. My mother would be proud.
“But after I left, I was frightened most about what my life might be like without you in it.”
Laurentz looks around at what is left of my home. Even I find it difficult to recognize it without its walls, without the furniture or all the other belongings Matilde and I once filled it with. The memories are still here, though. Those will never go away.
“You can’t stay here.”
“And I can’t come back with you, either.” I know he only means to protect me, and I made incredible strides in earning his father’s respect and trust, but I am no longer welcome in Burg Eltz. I cannot return to Angeline.
“But you’re not safe.” Laurentz hold my face between his palms.
I’m safe right here
, I want to tell him.
Right now
.
“Come back with me,” he says again. “Not to Eltz, but to Pyrmont. Fight for it.”
“But you and your father told me it’s an empty tower of death.”
“You could fill it with light and love and happiness.”
“It doesn’t feel like it belongs to me.”
“But it does,” he argues gently, “by birthright.”
He doesn’t need moonlight to know I am shaking my head.
“This is where I belong.” I step carefully over the stones and look out at the darkness that surrounds the tiny house. “I belong out there. You know I do.”
“And what about the village?” Laurentz walks to my side. “When they discover you here, they will take you again. They won’t think twice about who you are, or where you think you belong. They will kill you. Rune, the bishop wishes to destroy you, and he won’t stop until you have burned, just like your mother.”
“Then maybe that’s what is meant to be.”
Laurentz grabs my arm and makes me look at him. What I see in his face is disturbing—fear and anger, loss that threatens to repeat over and over again. I don’t want to do this to him, but he doesn’t seem to accept that he can’t keep me. I am not like him.
“I’ve seen what you can do. You are powerful. You can change everything, Rune.” Laurentz’s eyes shine. “You don’t have to follow the footprints your mother has left for you. Make your own. Make them all see that, as a witch, you can do good, not harm.”
“What you ask is impossible.”
“Then prove me wrong.” His voice changes to a meaningful challenge. “The bishop has turned Pyrmont into an orphanage. Help me do something about this.”
“An orphanage? His heart isn’t that generous.”
“No, it isn’t. These are children taken from those who have been tried for witchcraft. Dozens of cradles filled with infants—no one older. He believes he can make them pure. A new Germany, he called it.”
“Laurentz, what do you mean, ‘taken?’ Weren’t they already orphans? Please tell me that they were.”
He shakes his head from side to side. He doesn’t know. But I do. I’ve seen it with my own eyes, heard the stories with my own ears—babies taken from their mothers moments after birth by pitiless guards. I thought the babies were taken to be destroyed. That’s what Anna and I had thought. I’d forgotten my promise to her until now. Could her daughter be inside the castle? If her tiny birthmark has gone undetected, then yes, it’s a possibility, and I must keep my promise.
“My father’s warned me to keep you safe. The bishop has something terrible planned, not only for Bavaria, but for you and me as well. Going back to Pyrmont means I will intentionally disobey my father. And it places you in grave danger. So tell me what to do and I’ll do it, after I’ve made certain you’re out of harm’s way.”
“And I am to arm you with herbs that will heal you, should something happen,” I whisper, “rather than stand at your side, fighting for what is right?”
“Yes.”
“It’s not that simple. Magick will only protect you if it’s wielded from my hands.”
“Then you must help me some other way,” he insists. “I won’t place your soul in danger. It’s far too precious.”
“And what of
your
soul, Laurentz?”
His face may be cloaked in shadow but it cannot hide how he scoffs at this. “Mine has much to make up for.”
An owl stirs above the roofless cottage. It is out of the question that we light a fire tonight, so I nestle into him, the two of us keeping each other warm. Despite knowing he will leave tomorrow, that old feeling of being protected is back, and I hold onto it.
I drift off to sleep in his arms, waking to a paling sky and a warm embrace. I move to sit up, causing the contents of the rune bag I have tied to my wrist to clink.
Laurentz opens his eyes. “Do you know how to read them?” He points to the bag.
“Not really. I suppose I have much to learn if I’m to be a
real
witch.” I spill the contents onto my lap. The stones clink together. It’s such a comforting sound that, if I were to close my eyes right now, I might hear Matilde’s voice deciphering the meanings of the little symbols. I wonder if my fortune has changed. I don’t tell him what I’m doing, but I hold my hand over the pile, knowing it’s dark enough that he won’t become curious and ask. Immediately there is a pull, and I choose two stones. Only two. Strangely, the others are quiet.
When I turn them over, I see the symbols. Man and Woman. I feel the warmth of him next to me, and as the thin light of morning brightens between the trees, I smile at what the future holds.
“I’ve almost forgot, I have my own stone to show you,” and he pulls a tiny broken gem from his coat pocket. “I don’t know if it has anything to do with the future, but I do think it’s a secret to the past.”
He places it in my hand and I turn it over, not quite sure what it could be. At first I think it’s nothing, perhaps a piece of glass, but I don’t want to hurt his feelings, and then the voice of my mother surges within me with an unforeseen vengeance, and I am most certain he has found a key to a puzzle.
Chapter 45
Laurentz
“W
hat is it?”
It’s not the stone I ask about.
She holds her hands to her head as if it’s splitting open. Words tumble from her lips in a voice that is not hers, and when finally her own pushes forth, I hear a word that sends my heart racing.
“Mother.”
I grab her hand and pull her with me, stumbling down the broken rocks to the muddy ground. “I’m taking you back to Eltz.”