Inflaming the Vampire's Stone Heart

Chapter Eight

The path was not anything that resembled a driveway. It was just a dirt road with the rough spikey rocks of a mountain on one side and a sheer cliff down on the other. Stones as small as my fist were loose, while others as large as boulders looked like they could fall at any point. Tree trunks stuck their branches out periodically, and too looked like they could fall from above by the smallest gush of air to become completely uprooted.

I kept climbing up as the path coursed roughly around the mountainside. When I turned around after some twists the village was now completely out of sight.

More than an hour later and the road had become much rockier and more perilous with how steep it was. I thought several times that I should just turn around. My curiosity over an ancient castle, however, was more powerful than the thought of however long this passage was.

I reached the top of the path which was not at all near the peak of the actual mountain. It was perhaps only a third of the way up it. Looking up, I can’t even spot the summit through the morning sun. The degree now heading downwards was just as dangerous appearing. Fallen rocks from above were scattered everywhere and the distance to the cliff had become only several feet to the mountain side. I stopped to catch my breath and held the side of the mountain with one hand as I looked over the drop down the cliff side. I could use a glass of water right now, but I will just have to make do. I am committed. There is no turning back once I made the decision to start the descent hoping that meant I was half way.

There was water running below that I could hear but not see without leaning too far over the cliffside. I continued with slow and careful steps to move around the large stones making sure that my feet hand ample steady gripping with each foot forward. My jeans and boots were now covered in dirt from the hike and a pearl of sweat from the morning heat and exercise had formed on my brow.

I stopped again when I heard the caw of a what I thought might be an eagle. I lifted my hand above my eyes to stop the glare of the sun and saw the shape of two large wings hovering in the wind. The falcon I had seen at the river the afternoon before was unmistakable and just as beautiful today. Not another sound came from her as she started into a diving position and shot through the air like a bullet heading downward. The next sight was the falcon with its talon’s gripped upon a mouse heading back up into the sky.

“Looks like that’s it for you mousy.” I said under my breath.

There was no doubt in my mind that was the same falcon I saw by the streambed yesterday evening. I admired the stealth of her even as she killed the poor mouse with such glorious violence. A striking reminder of the cruelness that is nature and the chain of survival. The mouse had no chance once the falcon spotted it with her skilled huntress eyes.

I don’t know how long the journey took, but I am sure it was more than a few hours when around a final corner I could see the entrance to a massive castle. What a hauntingly beautiful sight.

It was massive, with carved lines of adjoining pathways and towers. Two iron gates twisted in metal and iron were locked leading to a courtyard with dusty brown gravel. Twin wooden doors were half the size of the façade and imposing to even look at. They were dotted with bolted metal and more iron. Beyond the front were a multitude of windows on differing levels, lined passageways open to the air, and balconies that sprawled viewing points to the mountains I now stood at the base of. Some of the windows were as small as the cubbyholes back in at The Red Rose, while others were the sheer size of the stories that they were built into. Upon trying to study them given the distance they reach up into the sky, I cannot see one sight of glass. Perhaps they are opened with glass to the inside. But all of them?

To the left of the castle was the entrance to a courtyard by hedges. Beyond those hedges I could make out the colored fruits of citrus trees. Plump oranges, ripe lemons, and nectarines all looked ready to fall for a late autumn harvest. Another archway open to the castle has hay lining the floor. I can only conclude it is a set of horse stables.

As an Englander I have seen plenty of incredible castles. But nothing like this. It is something out of a Disney movie. Not Disney, I argue with myself. More like a rendition of Frankenstein. It is beautiful, yes, but so dark. Many of the windows were covered in darkness but I did spot several lights around the first few floors which meant there was some life inside the colossal dark stones.

So, this was where Lord Lark lived? Not a bad life. The twenty or so servants I had seen at the festival yesterday would definitely be a number needed to keep a place like this going. However, if Lord Lark lives here alone with Alina in such a massive amount of space and countless rooms then would all of them be open to use? This was such a magnificent home for just two occupants to enjoy.

That raises another curiosity. How the heck did he afford it? I am not that experienced with this country at all, but I have never before seen a castle like this when I did my research on travelling here a few weeks ago. How can that be? Were we close to the border of another country altogether? Was this place really a hidden diamond that no one else knew of? Or was it just that it was privately owned? You would think that someone had taken a picture or even heard of it. Something this majestic could not be completely unknown. I prided myself on my history education and knew of so many castles like a dictionary in my mind. Nothing of my past teachings of castles or palaces were close to remembering a sight like this. And if I had seen something so incredible in a book, I would have definitely had remembered it. I would have even made travel plans to see it.

When Nicolae told us there was royalty here, I had logically assumed that they would not actually be wealthy. This structure alone was enough to contradict any thoughts I had of that. Julia heard the word royalty and that to her equaled money because she liked to romanticize. Myself, I have studied enough history to know that ancestorial wealth did not last. A King in one point of time eventually faded by the means of disease, famine, war and politics. Family names fell quickly and often brutally even if there were several successful generations of intelligent male patriarchs. In order to travel through such time with a continued stream of finances meant investments had been made generously and continuously.

The fog lining up to the castle gates added to its haunting appeal. I walked up to the locked gates and saw a peaceful looking lake that was visible from the main entrance and was at the back of the castle’s left side opposite that vast looking orchard. I thought I would see several servants, but I see no one. No one at all in fact.

I look at the lock. A steel ring gate latching is bolting it shut. I pick it up and it is heavy, half rusted, and unmovable. The climb over the gate would be impossible but then I see a massive oak tree a few yards away. I look up to the incredible sight of the daunting castle and immediately have an impression of vast importance. I want to see that lake.

I climb the oak tree and carefully cross over the branch closest to the gate. I jump the full height and land with a grunt on both my feet with difficulty. I look back at the gate with a smile. I am not so old after all I think to myself having achieved that like a playful rebellious kid.

There is no way I am going to dare knock on the door. I remind myself I came here without an invitation. This is not like a castle to take pictures of back in England. No, this is someone’s home and I do not want to intrude on that. I just want to have an innocent look around.

I let my gaze fall away from the enchanting sight of the castle and to the corner of a lake below several stories of the circular first floor of the entrance. I only want to be in the vicinity of something so beautiful, even if for the briefest of time.

Soft light grass with potted flowers kept well-groomed line a garden pathway leading to a stone bench at the lakeside. As I reach that bench, I can see it is not stone, but carved marble. Grey lines vine like human veins through the white polished surface. I spot a pair of swans gliding across the water. It is such a peaceful view. I sit down on the bench, promising myself I will only be here a few minutes. I lean back resting my wrists to hold me at an angle as I lift my eyes towards the warmth of the sun.

I take a deep breath of the mountain air. It is light and tranquil. Not at all like the smells of London and the stench of the city there that is unavoidable. The air here is clean, crisp, and yet encased by the musty fog adding a slight weight to it. The smell of pine from the forest surrounding the lake scents the air. I could take in this smell forever.

I close my eyes feeling in a restful meditative state as a whisk of a breeze catches my hair and I feel it tickle the back of my neck like a lover’s fingers dangling a feather against my skin.

Every thought of the stress of work, returning to the boredom of my daily routine in London, and the necessary tasks of paying bills in everyday life is taken from the weight of my shoulders. I let out a long breath and hear a sigh escape me unwillingly. My body wants me to stay here, even my soul wants it, but my mind is another matter. Right now, I feel empty… but peacefully so. I wish I could have this feeling forever. But I can’t, I have to return to the village. Just a few minutes longer… I tempt myself taking another full breath of the scent of this place.

“Good morning.” I heard a voice state behind me.

I spun around startled beyond measure from my trans and spot two grey eyes were watching me from the shadow of an entrance at the bottom floor of the castle. I stood like the perch of a bird quick to the attention when it was being watched by a cat. I squinted to make out the figure of Dorian Lark. I feel like I have just been caught illegally trespassing on his property. Oh wait, I have.