Chapter 6

- Elly -

Trembling in uncertainty Elly stood in front of the door to the Count's rooms. Ricarda eyed her curiously with pursed lips and Elly could only imagine how much worse the gossip about her was going to be.

But it did not matter much anymore. Elly had made up her mind. She would not wait around anymore for things to happen as others pleased. She would not ask her father for permissions anymore. He had clearly proven to her that he did not know better. That he did not care about her wellbeing, only about money and alcohol.

She did not want to stay in Burgate anymore, so she would leave it, as simple as that.

Behind the wooden door Elly heard muffled voices speaking, one must have been the Count and the other his personal servant, but judging the tone of the conversation it was not a good time to ask favours.

She took a deep breath and forced herself to knock anyway.

"What business?" asked the servant through the door.

"This is Elizabeth Glassner. I-I am here to speak to the Count, if I may," Elly stuttered.

Instantly the door flew open and at her stared the black-haired man with an eery grin. "Please do come in," he said and eagerly gestured her inside.

Elly was entirely put off by the expression on his face. The smile looked more like a wild beast blaring its teeth right before an attack. And so did his posture. She had thought his way to walk odd before, but right there it looked plain inhuman. A shudder ran down her spine.

"What do you need?" the Count asked.

Elly swallowed down the sensation of threat and focused on him, trying to remember her determination. But looking at him was even worse. He looked angry. Very, very angry.

"I am sorry to bother you at an inconvenient time, but I heard you would leave today in the afternoon," Elly said.

"So?" the Count snapped. He stood intimidatingly tall, arms crossed over his chest, chin raised high. His eyes were ice, cold and unforgiving.

Elly took another deep breath. "Please take me along to Castermere."

"No," the Count answered without even thinking about it.

"I would work my fare. I can clean and cook and –"

"As expected of a maid. But I do not need another servant, otherwise I would have employed one already."

"Please, my Lord. I do not wish to stay in town after ... ..." Elly could not speak the words. She did not know how to phrase them appropriately. And just thinking about them had her heart in turmoil.

"And I wish you would stop involving me in your affairs," the Count snapped.

Elly stood frozen. Heat rushed to her cheeks and her heart dropped. "You cannot mean to think I claimed such indecency myself," she mumbled to the floor at her feet.

When she dared glimpse up again, some softness returned to the Count's face and voice. "I do not. And for what it's worth, I think it was a wise choice not to marry yourself to that fool of a man."

An ache took hold of Elly's heart with the relief, that at least someone did not think her mad. That at least one person knew the truth and stood on her side. She could have cried on the spot.

"Nevertheless, I do not want to involve myself with you any further. Please leave now," the Count said.

The harsh words cut deep. Deeper than Elly would have expected, even if she didn't really know what exactly she had expected. To be miraculously saved by a stranger she'd had about two proper conversations with?

"Of course," Elly said. Still, her voice sounded quite unlike herself. "Forgive my intrusion." She bowed and turned to leave.

The door fell shut behind her with a squeak.

That stupid door.

If she hadn't been so careful about closing it, no one would have thought her sneaking around.

Tears prickled in her throat. But she wouldn't give in to them. She wouldn't give in to despair. Her aunt in Castermere would understand, would help her. All Elly needed to do was get there somehow. Travel companionship would have been nice, but she would do just fine on her own.

***

- Jake -

"Maybe you should employ your personal maid servant though. To avoid such inconveniences in the future," Nathaniel said. His eyes rested on the door the girl had closed behind her, still staring like he saw something no one else did.

Jake gave the demon a grim stare. "I bet if I ask around enough, I'll find you the culprit for spouting those nonsense rumours." The monster had ruined yet another life of yet another innocent person and couldn't care less.

"Oh, oh, no." Nathaniel laughed, thoroughly enjoying himself with Jake's distaste. "This one is all upon yourself. I couldn't have manufactured it so well even if I had tried."

Jake clenched his fists in anger. If a bloody face hadn't caused more source for rumours, he had punched the demon that grin off right there until not one bone in it had remained unbroken. No matter the wasted effort.

"Send note to Rutger and Annabelle," Jake snarled. "We need to tell them to meet us in Castermere."

He brushed his finger through his hair, then pulled at his jacket and loosened the tie. He couldn't wait to get out of those ridiculous costumes. Whoever had decided that noble Lords and Ladies had to wear such horrible clothing enjoyed misery just as much as Nathaniel.

The demon rolled his eyes. He opened the window and made a sound that might have been a word in another language, the call of an unusual name, or nothing all together. A shudder ran down Jake's spine, as it always did when the demon played at his unnatural tricks.

Seconds later a raven landed on the window sill. It was a creature like any other if one didn't pay enough attention. Only on the second thought the feathers looked too dark, the beak too crooked, the eyes too dead. Only if one knew, they saw a thing of darkness and sinister magic, hidden in plain sight, like its master.

Nathaniel reached out his hand towards Jake and snapped his fingers impatiently.

"I am not a dog," Jake grumbled while scribbling the few words of the message on a piece of paper. He handed it to Nathaniel to fix it to the raven's claw and off it flew again. To find its target, always, without fail.

"Now that's that," Nathaniel said satisfied and let himself down on the cushioned chair. "Just to make sure, and I am saying this for your sake, although you might not believe it. Are you certain about the girl?"

Jake snarled instead of a proper answer, tired of the demon's jests.

If he had the time, Jake might have considered offering help. But he didn't and she was better off on her own anyway.

"As you wish. But consider that I might be a more proper judge in this case, since you hardly talk to women besides Annabelle, and I am quite certain she does not even count as such," the demon said with mild disgust in his face.

"Annabelle is as much a woman as any," Jake defended.

"Really? Have you ever considered sharing a bed with her?"

"That has nothing to do with anything."

"It has though. But never mind," Nathaniel said and smirked. "Are we certain the Baron will keep silent?"

Jake blinked, taken aback by the sudden turn of the conversation, was rather glad about it, however. "We are," he said.

"I could make us a little bit more certain," Nathaniel said with an evil grin. He sat up straight with expectations, every unnatural muscle flexed in anticipation.

"You are not to bewitch the poor old man!" Jake said.

Nathaniel threw the hands in the air in a frustrated gesture. "You are never letting me have any fun."

"Somehow I feel you have had plenty," Jake grumbled. "Go make sure the carriage is being prepared. I want to be gone as soon as possible."

"Slave driver," Nathaniel snarled.

Jake gave him an angry stare.

***

- Elly -

The pouch containing her mother's private savings in the pocket of her coat weighing as much as her consciousness Elly sneaked down to the Goldstein's farm. After that she really would never be able to return home.

But she couldn't stay. There was no way she could turn her side of the story as Elaina had meant to turn hers, whatever had really happened. She wouldn't even try to.

Contrary to what all the people said, the Count of Malinijak was not a bad man, he didn't deserve another stain on his already questionable reputation. She refused to let any doubts about that cross her mind.

Elly crunched down and leaned her back against the wall of the barn, listening for noises from inside. Maybe she should have waited until nightfall. But she didn't trust herself to read her father's old map properly in the dark. He would be furious when he found it ripped from the frame on the wall of his shop.

When Elly was sure the barn was empty, she carefully sneaked inside. She rushed to fetch the saddle, but took a moment to pet Mr. Stingley's nose and whisper some kind words to him. "I'll have someone take you home later on, I promise."

She fastened the saddle and reins as she had seen Len do it countless times already, then she led the horse outside and mounted.

"And now, fast," she whispered into the horse's ear. Mr. Stingley dashed away, Elly clang on tightly. They would be easy enough to spot, she had to make it to the forest before anyone realised this was not one of her regular riding trips.

Luckily, no one paid too much attention.

Soon the farm and the town had disappeared behind Elly. The forest and underwood thickened along the muddy path she rode. The scent of wild nature and unknown rushed into her nose and lungs. Elly dared to slow down. Thick tears rolled down her cheeks. She tried to fight them, determined not to give in, but this time she couldn't help it.

How in the world had everything turned out so wrong so suddenly? What a string of unfortunate coincidences.

And it had to be coincidences. Elly wasn't one to fall to superstition. She was not about to blame demons or black magic that did not exist besides in the minds of ignorant people.

At sunset Elly stopped close to a little river marking about the half point to Castermere according to the map. She prepared herself a shelter, like she and her brother had played to in the forest behind the Goldstein's farm, when they had been little.

Maybe she should go to him instead of her aunt. In terrible moments like this one she missed David the most. But the capital city was so far away, it wasn't even on the map. Maybe she would visit him though, in a proper carriage, after settling at her aunt's place.

Mr. Stingley napped at Elly's hair. He pulled off her shawl looking for treats. She gave him the last of it, she hadn't had time to pack properly.

Elly pulled the worn coat tighter around her shoulders and made herself comfortable, at least as comfortable as possible on the cold hard ground. To keep the dark thoughts and worries away she forced herself to go through lists of ingredients for dishes her mother had taught her to cook until she fell asleep.

***

She woke with a stiff neck and to voices murmuring in the dark. Within a heartbeat she was wide awake.

Two men stood in front of Elly, one held Mr. Stingley's holsters, the other held a knife. Both wore peasant clothing, dirt like a cloak and nasty grins on their lips. A lantern on the ground next to them gave just enough light to see.

"Good morning, beauty," the one with the knife said.

"G-Good morning," Elly stuttered, even if the night was far from being over. She brushed her hair straight and a leaf out of them, then slowly stood up.

"Are you lost, little bird?"

"I ... I am on my way to meet my aunt in Castermere. She will be worried if I do not arrive within the day and have the King's soldiers look for me if I don't," Elly lied, sensing nothing good. She had heard that people were the most dangerous threats on travels, but she had brushed that off as another piece of gossip. Staring at those hostile faces, she wasn't so sure anymore.

The men laughed. First at her, then at each other, then not at all anymore. The one with the knife lunged at her.

Elly flinched back, turned, fled and blindly dashed ahead into the darkness. The man caught up. A rough hand closed on Elly's neck and brought her to fall, pushed her on the ground.

She had brawled with her brother many times as a child, of course she had. But she had not won once back then, and she feared she might have even less chances of winning now. But that did not stop her from struggling. She wiggled and turned, clawed at the man's face.

He screamed in pain and anger, just a second his grip loosened, enough for Elly to grab at the knife in his hand.

Yes, she was a girl, but she was not stupid. If she could claim the weapon for herself, she would get away.

But the man didn't let go. His fingers grabbed tightly around the knife, he pulled his arm away and Elly, clinging on, off the ground with it. When her hands slipped, she bumped the ground hard again. Pain shot through her head.

The man punched her in the face. Her breath stuck in her chest. Pain bloomed from her cheeks through her bones. She wildly threw her fists at him in return.

"Enough of this nonsense, you wench!" he yelled.

His free hand closed around her throat, the knife neared it too. Elly struggled, grabbed for his weapon again, all her strength against his one arm, she pulled to all sides in hasty movements, hoping to make his fingers slip. She cut herself, blood dropped, the pain didn't reach her mind.

She tried pushing instead of pulling, he pulled as well, the knife shot at his face. A dark gush opened over his cheek.

He grunted.

He lost the fight for the blade.

Elly slashed at him with it.

He let out an ugly scream.

Blood spilled. Lots of blood.

Elly froze. She had not meant to hurt the man. Not really.

He cried in pain, hit at her with uncontrolled force and everything turned black.

***