The Ninth Door

Chapter 16 - Blood

Emmerich

The air was thick with tension, as Sienna stared at the key in her hand. One key. Did she really have to pick one key with her unknown father’s name? I heard the voice, too, and was rattled when I saw my own name among the four.

Was it possible?

I had never ventured into this world before. I was sure of it. There was too much going on in my world for me to even wander into another one. Before I traveled from my world to Sienna’s, I didn’t even think it possible.

War. Sword. Shield. Throne.

Those were the things that were hammered in my head as a child – as a spare. As Luther and I were growing up, people saw the need for me to take over. Turning into a dangerous leopard was my downfall. It made me wonder if Luther had known about Eric Wester’s affliction all along.

The woman in front of me couldn’t be my child. I would have known it, felt that fatherly affection. What I felt for her was far from fatherly.

Does it work like that, though?

I had very few lovers in my lifetime, totaling to a number I could count in one hand. I didn’t visit brothels either, knowing what diseases ran rampant there. Meanwhile, very few noble women would gladly lay with a man who was not her husband. I had slept with widows and young, “ruined” noble women. No promises. Just s*x. Lady Mary was supposed to be different – a woman I respected enough to lay with only on the marital bed. Unfortunately, my brother used my intention to hurt her.

Even with all the avoidance, Fara helped me with protection. I was lucky to have magick on my side to help me avoid venereal diseases and pregnancies. Most men weren’t as fortunate.

“Sienna?” I had to call her name, break her from her reverie. Her lips had gone pale and her pupils dilated.

“Do I get one chance to open a door with one of these?” she asked. Her voice didn’t tremble, but her anxiety was still evident.

“I don’t know.” I felt helpless and tired, even though it was early morning. I didn’t realize that helping her regain her identity required her knowing and accepting a part of her life she might not be ready for.

A door slammed from a distance. As far as we knew, we were the only ones in this wing of the house. This section was yet to be renovated. There was no rush since it couldn’t be more than a quarter of the ground floor. The family was small enough to stay within the front quarter. The upper floors seemed to be better prepared for visitors. Even the bride’s room in one of the turrets was ready for any woman engaged to be married.

“We need to see who that is,” Sienna urged, her hand clasping the key too hard I was sure it would bruise her palm.

She didn’t have to persuade me any further. I ran. She followed. The house seemed larger than it looked, giving way to twists and turns that didn’t look like they belonged. We passed the wall where a door had previously opened before it blended with its background. It wasn’t it. We could feel. We ran some more, and there was nothing. Nothing because we passed the same wall. Once. Twice. Three times more.

“What’s going on?” Sienna cried, clutching my arm.

“I think we’re in the loop because we’re supposed to open a door somewhere around here.”

“You’re right, Emmerich. We need to stop here.”

We stopped, our backs against each other as if we were expecting to be mobbed by enemies. I flared my nostrils and took gulps of air. Most times, I still couldn’t believe that I was here with Sienna Kelley. I still suspected that my real body was rotting in a dungeon cell.

The air wasn’t fetid. It didn’t smell like lavender and vanilla, either, although a sweet scent that almost resembled coffee and candy emanated from Sienna. She smelled like home, of my mother and my nurse when I was young as they served food and sang lullabies.

“I’m here,” I thought to myself, holding on to it, even though my practical side knew that there were things that I couldn’t fight.

A door slammed even though we didn’t see anything open or close. My ears perked, trying to gauge the direction of the sound.

“It came from the right,” I whispered, as if almost afraid that somebody else would hear me. Of course, somebody else was listening!

We padded to the right,our backs still pressed together.

“There it is,” Sienna said, sounding in awe.

I turned toward the direction she was facing, and there it was – a knob. My heart pounded so hard it gurgled in my ears.

“Make your choice,” I said, my voice raw. “Who sounds like the best option?”

Sienna pulled the keys from her pocket. She passed one key to me. It was the one with my name.

“It can’t be you. I know it’s not you. I’d rather be damned not to open any of the doors than know it’s you,” she said, her green eyes more vivid than ever. One iris had become half-yellow, as if she was forever marked by her leopard.

“It’s not me,” I said, taking the hand that held the key. I pulled it from her fist with one hand while my other hand held hers. I kissed her hand, still halfway closed to a fist. She slowly pulled her hand away to reach for another key, but her eyes were still on me.

“It can’t be Pete. If it were him, or even if he suspected I was his child, he wouldn’t violate my mother right in front of me. He might have done it when she was alone.”

“What if he was just sadistic, Sienna? What if he didn’t know about you?”

“I look like a mirror image of my mother now, Emmerich, except my eyes are green while hers were more blue. Pete had brown eyes. It couldn’t be you, either, with your blue eyes.”

“Blood can sometimes surprise you,” I whispered, my eyes still on the transforming eyes. Green and amber. Flash of red. No matter what the color, her eyes spoke to me just as her full lips did. I couldn’t help but watch her lips as she talked.

“Yes, blood surprises, indeed.”

A tear fell on her cheek. She blinked, putting a halt to whatever enchantment beheld us. She turn toward the door knob, her hand resolutely gripping a key. She knew who her father was, and damn it, I had to be blind not to see it.

The door unlocked. Then, it closed and seemed to revolve on its axis. Then, it unlocked again.

Sienna crumpled to her knees, sobbing. The door opened to darkness. A book lay on the floor. Dux Maleficarum. A number 4 is engraved in red on its hard leather cover. Sienna had opened two doors at once.

“We’re a third into our journey, Sienna,” I said gently, placing a hand on her shoulder.

She rose to her full height and clasped her arms around me. I was startled. She hugged me as tightly as she could, crying hard. I felt the tears wet my shirt.

“It was him all along, Emmerich. How am I going to face him for lunch?”

I held Sienna closer to my chest, fisting the blond hair that had gone loose and felt her heart breaking. I thought that marrying cousins during my time was too close. My father was my mother’s second cousin.

But Sienna? Finding out her uncle was also her father must have destroyed all illusions of a normal life.

**

Before lunch, Sienna and I spent time in her room. She needed the time to recuperate from the discovery. Opening Doors 2 and 3 was bittersweet, and I wasn’t sure the next few doors would be any better.

We had always tried to avoid physical connection, barricading ourselves from each other with books, but today was different. Sienna needed someone to comfort her. She rested her head on my lap while I rested my back on the bed’s headboard. She was letting me comb her hair with my fingers, making herself vulnerable. We remained like that in silence.

“Cry if you need to,” I said, determined to be a good friend. For what else could I offer her but friendship?

“I can’t. They’ll see.”

“They’ll see it, anyway.”

Her eyes had lost some of the recently-regained luster, and I wished we could turn back. It was futile. She had already started her journey.

“How did you know the order in which the doors had to be opened?” Her voice rose in pitch. Curious, not suspicious. At least that was what I told myself.

“I woke up in your world just knowing.”

“Oh.” Sienna couldn’t even hide her disappointment anymore. She had been peeled raw, possibly entertaining all kinds of possibilities. Was it a consensual but forbidden romance? Was it abuse? From what I could glean, Stefan Kelley was five years older than his sister Shiela. He looked about fifty. It meant that Sienna’s mother was already in her twenties when she was born. Not only that, Stefan was already married then.

Something skittered in my brain, too fast to grasp. There were faces that were too blurry to identify. A word seemed to bubble in my head.

“Have you heard of anyone called the Storyteller, Sienna?”

“You mean anyone who tells a story?”

“No. The Storyteller.”

“No, I haven’t,” she said, rising from my lap. Her hair was disheveled but still fell in graceful waves on her back. I wanted to reach out to her, and press her close to my chest, but that would be pressing on her too hard. “I want to focus on the fourth door.”

New determination seeped out of her. She didn’t want to think about Stefan Kelley – not anymore. She wanted to move on.

“You have a new book,” I reminded her. It wasn’t just a book, but a guide for witches. She had to face another aspect of her being.

“What am I really, Emmerich?” she asked, turning on her knees to face me. “What else can I be? I’m a shifter, a product of incest, and a witch? What kind of story has that in one woman who saw her mother die? I’m talking to someone who’s possibly a figment of my imagination. It’s why Uncle Stefan believed I was insane, wasn’t it? He knew what I was. I’m not supposed to be even exist.”

“I’m real,” I insisted. “You’re real. We’re here. I don’t always believe I’m here, Sienna, because there are moments I can still smell the stench of the dungeon. I’m probably dreaming you in the darkness while I hold on to my sanity.”

“Are there books about broken women trying to open doors in your world?” she asked, smiling through her tears.

“I’m not sure.”

Her smile faded.

**

“We wished we could have stayed for longer, An- Sienna, but we need to go,” Stefan said, while Sienna clutched my hand with her cold one. She was gripping me hard, a reminder of my reality and hers.

“It’s okay, Uncle. Emmerich is here.”

“Mom’s been bugging Dad to go home,” Joy explained, rolling her eyes. “If she came with us, then she wouldn’t have a problem.”

“We really enjoyed our time with you, Emmerich,” Silas said, smiling and nodding. He looked like he truly meant it. I felt a chill as I looked at the siblings more closely. Joy didn’t look like her father at all, with her dark hair and stern face. Silas looked like a mix. He had his father’s kind eyes and chin, but everything else was different. Sienna was her mother’s mirror image, and she also looked like Stefan so much it must hurt his wife to look at her.