He marched past her and slipped out of the room, locking the door behind him.
Blackbrew glared at the door for a moment before she returned her attention to the fire. She brushed her hand in front of her in the direction of the hearth, and the flames died. The witch beckoned, and the spoon floated up before it shot into her hand. She laid the slightly charred spoon in her lap and stroked the blackened handle. The scoring slowly vanished until the spoon was as good as new.
Blackbrew stood and hung the spoon back in its place. She stepped back, and a faint smile slipped onto her lips. “Just you wait, Calder Crestmoor. The gods will give you everything you deserve.”
Chapter 10
Eldric led us up the stairs and through the door at the top. The portal led into a luxurious mansion of wood-paneled walls, mahogany floors, and more busts, paintings, and tapestries than a museum. Gas chandeliers hung over our heads, and the hall was filled with thick wooden doors that led into rooms stuffed with heavy furniture, thick woven rugs, and more dead ancestors than I could shake an exorcism stick at.
One particular portrait caught my attention. I glimpsed the painting through an ajar door. It wasn’t so much the majesty of the painter as the strange eyes of the young man. He seemed to pierce my very soul, and I couldn’t help but be drawn into the room. The space was some sort of study with a personal desk and bookshelves. The portrait hung over the mantel, a brushwork some three feet high and two feet wide.
I stopped in front of the painting and gaped at the figure. The faint light from the hall allowed me to see his short sun-bleached blond hair and piercing blue eyes.
“What do you think of him?”
I jumped and whipped my head to my left. Marc stood at my side, his eyes lifted to the portrait. I swallowed the lump in my throat. “I-I’m not sure. Who is he?”
He grinned at me. “Can’t you tell?”
I stared blankly at him before my eyes widened. I whipped my head between the two, and my mouth dropped open. “Is that. . .is that a relative of yours?”
Marc chuckled. “Something closer than that. He was my father.”
“Your father?” I whispered as I looked back at the portrait. Those bright eyes. That bright hair. The hint of a sly smile. “Does that mean Eldric knew him?”
“Eldric is my uncle.”
You could have knocked me over with a feather. “Y-your uncle?”
“And I wish he’d pay me some due respects,” Eldric spoke up as he appeared in the doorway with Ramaro at his side. He crossed his arms over his chest and frowned at the painting. “You’re as pigheaded as your father.”
I half-turned to our host. “So you were his dad’s brother?”
Eldric choked on his spittle. “That fool my brother? The gods forbid! He was fortunate enough to marry my dear little sister.” A slight tremor in his voice revealed his affections on that topic. He partially turned away from us and nodded down the hall. “But we’re wasting time on old memories. Come on, and no more dawdling.”
Our host slipped out of sight. Ramaro lifted his nose and marched after Eldric. I turned to Marc, but my smile faded as I noticed the soft look in his eye.
“You okay?” I whispered to him.
He shook himself and smiled at me. “I think I’ll listen to Eldric this time and follow him. Come on, Rose.” He took my hand and drew me away from the portrait.
I glanced over my shoulder as we left the room. The faint smile on that portrait seemed to grow wider as we left.
The other two waited for us further down the hall. Eldric continued as we joined them and led us to the foyer. He had just reached the archway when a figure jumped out from the left side.
“Lord Eldric!”
The bubbly voice belonged to the buxom figure. She was a woman of thirty with long brown hair that waved to and fro with her bouncy personality. The woman wore a maid’s outfit and completed the ensemble with a feather duster in one hand.
She waved the duster in his direction. “Have you been having fun with more guests? I hope they weren’t down there too long. Those young men were so hungry, they nearly emptied the larder!”
Eldric stiffened, and his voice came out in a sharp hiss. “Now is not the time, Gisela. We have some important guests.”
She leaned to one side, and her gaze fell on us. Her eyes lit up, and a smile stretched across her face. “Marcy-poo! Ramy!”
My face drooped before I looked up at Marc. “Marcy-poo?”
“It’s been so long!” Gisela squealed as she pushed past Eldric and raced over to us. She wrapped Marc in a hug so tight his face turned an unhealthy shade of white. “You should’ve visited us sooner! My goodness, but you’re as thin as a stick!” She drew them apart, and her sparkling eyes fell on Ramaro. “Ramy!”
