Wildwood

16. A Castle for a Queen-1

A Castle for a Queen“Are you coming?” Lucas asks. “There’s something you need to see.”

I turn toward the sound of his voice. He’s standing on a rock beach, bathed in silvery white light. He guides me to a large, black rock. It’s layered with sand. I try to wipe it away. Six stick figures ringed in red spirals appear. Even though they are identical, I focus on the last one. I trace it with my finger. Heat sizzles through my hand and I instinctively draw it away. Blood seeps from my skin. A drop of it falls to the beach. The ground beneath me trembles. The sea churns as the ocean floor quakes, and the waves that crash ashore grow increasingly powerful.

A towering wall of water charges for the shore and as it breaks upon the sand, thousands of white horses emerge from the surf and cover the beach like the spill from a wave. They gallop in tight formation and then circle around Lucas and me. I hold my breath as the horses halt in perfect synchronization and turn to face us.

“They’ve been waiting for you. We all have,” Lucas says. “I wasn’t sure it was really you. Never believed Asher could do it. But he has. You’re here now. And he’s coming for you.”

The moment the words leave his lips, the horses dissolve into a wave.

“Be seeing you,” Lucas whispers and disappears as the foaming water flows back to the sea. The water rises, climbing my legs, reaching my thighs. I stand, rooted to the spot. I should move. But there’s nowhere to go. There’s nothing but water as far as I can see. I look down, wanting to see if the black rock is still underneath my feet, but it’s not. I plunge downward, and the ocean swallows me.

I jerk awake, gasping for air.

“Are you okay?” Vanessa asks from beside me. My surrounding come into focus, and pain spreads across my back and my neck. I’m scrunched against the car door. My arm has gone numb from being used as a pillow.

“Just a bad dream,” I mutter, trying to mentally grab the bits and pieces as it scatters.

“I’m glad you slept a little, but that doesn’t count. You’re going to bed as soon as we get to my house. We’re right up here,” Vanessa says, and points at the only green lawn I’ve seen on the whole drive. The unblemished land is neatly dotted with hardwoods and rolls on as far as I can see. No house is visible from the road. She slows the car down and whips expertly onto a cobblestone driveway, which is guarded by an iron gate hung between two stone pillars. She presses a button on her visor and the gate swings open. We pass through the gate, and it closes behind us. Mature trees line the drive in checkered rows. We curve to the right and then back to the left, cutting a gentle switchback climb across the steep terrain.

A stone mansion sits atop the hillcrest. In front of it, a diagonal divide slices through the driveway as the cobblestone changes to a fiery-colored marble. The driveway loops in front of the spectacular stone house and doubles back on itself, leading back to the tree-lined entrance. An ornate fountain made of the same rust colored stone stands in the center of the circle drive. In its center slowly spins a metallic statue of a woman. Water flows from one hand, and some kind of liquid flame drips from the other. Steam rises from the pool beneath her as the drops of fire are extinguished at her submerged feet.

I open my door as Vanessa pulls the key out of the ignition. Land rises and falls around us. Wind whips across the tall grass. The morning glow stripes the gray sky with gold.

“You have a lot of property,” I say, a whisper of freedom lifting my spirits.

“Almost a thousand acres. It’s been in my family for a very long time.”

“Do you use it for any kind of farming?” I ask, and immediately know the answer. Vanessa purses her lips, suppressing a laugh.

“Do I look like I farm?” Her brow lifts.

“You’d be surprised,” I say, tilting my head. “The only part of you that’s a dead giveaway are your hands. Your nails are long and manicured, and they’re smooth as a baby’s butt,” I say with a snort. “Farm girls can clean up with the best of them, but it’s hard to hide the toll farm life takes on a person’s hands.” I inspect my hands. Even though it’s been a year since I last worked on a farm, I have the hands of someone three times my age, my joints more pronounced than Vanessa’s, the skin loose and textured.

“Actually, I’ve wanted to own a horse for as long as I can remember,” she says, and then looks at me. “I had a barn built behind the house a few years ago, but I know I’m not ready to have a horse yet. One day, though. I’ve always loved them. Our guest room is a loft apartment above the barn. I hope you’ll like it. I’ll take you on a quick tour of the house so you know your way around, and then we’ll get you settled.”

I walk forward, drawn to the mention of a barn despite the winter wind slicing through my thin clothes, and peer behind her house. The corner of a stone barn peeks out from behind a cluster of willow trees.

“You must be hungry. I’m starved.” Vanessa moves toward the front entrance.

“Not really,” I reply. Between the events of the last twenty-four hours, the pressure of what lies ahead, and sheer exhaustion, I can’t imagine eating.

“Maybe some tea, then? You need something on your stomach.”

“Tea sounds good.” I follow her inside. She closes the doors behind us, and a wisp of fear passes through me. The interior is dark, the tall windows shielded with thick velvet curtains. There are shadows everywhere. I back up until my heels touch the wall, and nearly jump at the chilly contact.

“Tanzy, you’re safe here,” Vanessa says softly.

“It’s just… it’s so dark,” I say.

“My husband prefers to keep the curtains drawn. He says sunlight fades the floor and the furniture.” She rolls her eyes. Vanessa moves to the closest window and throws the curtains open. Light floods the foyer. The pale green, marble stair case that curls along the curved wall glitters in the dawn. The stone railing is engraved with roses and thorny vines. I reach out and touch it, finding it cold.

“It’s jade,” Vanessa explains as she slips her shoes off and uses her foot to arrange them by the door. “Let’s throw those away,” she continues, eyeing the muddy bottoms of my scrubs. I look behind me. A few crumbles of dirt litter the entryway. I bend down to pick them up, but the motion shakes more dirt and debris loose from my pants.

“Tanzy, no. Don’t worry about that,” Vanessa says, and pulls me up by my elbow. “Just roll them up for now. I’ll get you a change of clothes.”

We cut through a spacious oval shaped room. The curve of the wall is made out of glass. An oriental rug takes up most of the floor space. I stop and stare upward; the ceiling is glass, too. The glow from the rising sun tints the glass with gold. I feel ridiculous standing in its center, which reminds me of heaven itself, in stolen scrubs and bare feet.

“This is my favorite room,” Vanessa says. “I refused to put drapes up in here. It nearly became a war.”

I follow her out of the atrium and into the kitchen. She moves around the room, opening every curtain. Dawn filters through the windows and casts streaks of light across a huge marble island. She fills a tea pot with water and sets it on a burner.

“I’ll give you a quick tour of this floor while the water heats up,” she says. “There’s one room in particular I think you’re going to like.”

Vanessa leads me into a great study. Books line the built-in shelves climbing the treacherous height of the room.

“See, kindred spirits,” she says, and shows me a life-sized black marble statue of a horse. His head is raised; his eyes defiant. The stone radiates warmth and life. I almost expect him to snort in annoyance. I move toward him and reach out to see if he feels as real as he looks. Why does this statue look so familiar? I know I’ve never seen anything like it before.

“Don’t touch him!” Her words come out in a rush, and I jerk my hand away. “Sorry. He’s very valuable. The stone he’s made of is very porous. Any oil from our fingertips would decrease his worth tremendously,” she explains.

“Got it,” I say, squeezing my right hand with my left, massaging my fingers where my pulse beats against my skin. Vanessa continues down the hall, but I chance a last glimpse of the black horse. His smooth ears seem to be pricked harder than before, more focused. His gleaming eyes are trained on mine. Even after we leave the room and walk down the hall, I can still feel his presence.

“So here’s the plan,” she says once we return to the kitchen. “You need to rest. I’m going to give you some tea with a little valerian root to help you relax. I know it sounds like something a hippy would suggest, but I swear it works.”

“My dad used it all the time to help calm anxious horses,” I say, nearly laughing. “Herbs are the kind of medicine I believe in most.”

“Good,” Vanessa responds as she mixes in a spoonful of powder into my mug, and then hands it to me. “Once we’re done, I will show you the barn and the loft. It’s already set up as a guest room, so you’re good to go. I’ll grab some of my clothes for you to borrow, and bring some snacks, too.”

I take a sip of the hot drink, enjoying the feel of warmth that fills me.

“I have some errands to run in town,” Vanessa continues as she stows a few packs of crackers, cookies, and some fruit in a reusable shopping bag. “When I get back, I’ll tell you what I know so far about Asher and the Unseen world. I’ll answer every question you have. And if I don’t know it, I know someone who does.”

“Shouldn’t we start now?” I ask, stifling a yawn.

“No, you are going to rest now,” she says. “At least try to sleep. As soon as you wake up, we will begin. You have my word.”

“Okay.” I yawn again.

“I have one favor to ask. My research about the Unseen world didn’t just cost me pieces of my professional life, it took a toll on my marriage as well. Honestly, it nearly ended it. My husband is driven by results. It’s why he’s so good at what he does. However, he also needs to see results to believe in something. When it comes to the Unseen world, that’s something I couldn’t give him.

“You couldn’t just have him stand outside with a lightning rod in a thunderstorm?” I joke, nearly delirious with exhaustion.

“I’ve been tempted,” she says, mustering a smile. “This is serious, though, unfortunately. We cannot discuss Asher, Maris, what happened tonight, the world of the clear, any of it in his presence.”

“Ten-four,” I say, offering a salute.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were tipsy,” Vanessa says, giggling. I smile, a warm tingling sensation moving through me.

“This must be why the horses like it,” I mumble.

“Come on, let’s get you to the loft before you pass out,” she says.

She leads me through her house, collects a bagful of clothes from her room, and then heads to the back door.

“You can change clothes in the loft, but I’m sure you’ll want these for the walk across the yard.” She hands me a pair of paddock boots that don’t have a single scuff on the leather or a grain of dirt in the tread. They’re a little small and stiff. They’d probably rub a blister if I wear them long, but at least they’re warm and dry.

We step outside. A gust of fresh air breathes life and clarity into my cloudy mind. I blink away the mental fog. The barn I’d glimpsed earlier comes into full view. The walls are crafted from polished, black stone, which catches the morning light. The barn doors look to be made of iron, and stand wide open. There’s an empty iron plate over the archway, and a small metal balcony above that. I catch myself looking forward to standing out on that balcony, surveying the pasture, imagining horses running across a thousand acres. I force the thoughts aside, uncomfortable with the sudden rush of longing.