The Volkovs

Chapter 1

Emily’s sightseeing expedition through Avalon included a trip to some of the notable local historical landmarks and the remains of an ancient Celtic settlement – one of many dotting the area surrounding our new home.

‘This town has a lot of history,’ Emily told me as we trudged past a pair of standing stones. They stood facing one another on either side of the road running to the left of us.

‘I’ve been reading up about it at the library. It’s quite the rabbit hole to dive into.’

I could tell from her look that she was hoping I’d ask her for details.

‘So what did you find out?’ I asked.

Emily proceeded to launch into a lengthy explanation about the Bavarians who lived in the area during the Middle Ages who had laid the foundations of the current town.

‘But the history here goes back way before then, to the middle and late iron ages. That was like 900 – 550 BC. During this period the Celts lived here. They were an offshoot of the Hallstatt Celts; some of the oldest tribes of Celtic peoples. They were the first groups to migrate and build a settlement here. These stone ruins you see around the edges of town belonged to them.’

‘One of the most fascinating things the Celts left behind were their myths and legends. Stories like the Tale of the Cursed Brothers. If you didn’t know, it’s a local folktale children here are told to scare them. Apparently. I learned about it from a librarian I spoke to yesterday.’

It was this tale she told me of next, at my request. I had a feeling she was going to explain it anyway; that or one of the other myths she’d read about.

Happily, Emily gave me a rundown of the legend as we meandered past a series of hollow stone cylinders which dotted the grassy plains; disorganized sentries which followed the line of encroaching trees.

I gazed out into the faded, gloomy depths of the forest as I listened to her story.

This is how she told it:

‘A council of powerful druids and tribal chiefs ruled the community of Celts. Unfortunately, they were very cruel and selfish. They brought the tribe into many unnecessary conflicts, leading them on an endless path of bloodshed. They treated the women and children in the town to horrific abuses. And they punished mercilessly anyone who tried to stand up to them.

The group of Celts settled in the area around Avalon to brave the coming winter.

Enter the two protagonists of this Legend. One day soon after the tribe’s arrival two young warriors named Issaut and Imurela went out hunting together, searching for food and medicine for Issaut’s family. For hours they looked and looked up and down the forest but found nothing useful.

Imurela (who was a well versed healer) finally spotted an abundance of useful herbs growing within a beautiful clearing.

As they neared the clearing a bear crawled out from the shadows of a tree nearby. The bear was huge, hulking and territorial. The hunters kept going anyway. They would willingly kill it and take its meat back to feed the tribe if they could.

So, they confronted and fought the bear.

The battle was brutal. Imurela nearly lost an arm defending Issaut, and in return Issaut fought off grievous wounds to fell the beast and end the miserable fight.

The entity which silently observed them during their fight was impressed by their bravery. Afterward it approached them in the form of a tall and proud, golden haired man.

The ‘friend,’ as he called himself was there to make them an offer. He offered them an end to the years of hunger and misfortune. A way for them to forge a new path for their tribe.

The brothers thought he was a madman. Then he gave them a demonstration of his powers. He healed both of the two brother’s wounds with no more than a flick of his hand, leaving them invigorated and strong like they’d never felt before.

The man offered them a deal. In exchange for the boons he could provide them with, they would pledge the allegiance of themselves and all their descendants to the man, worshiping him forevermore as their god.

The two brothers were suspicious and already suspected the man’s true nature. However he informed them, ‘I foresee years of tyranny for your tribe – never ending tyranny which will lead to your tribe’s eventual destruction. You can allow that, if it is your wish. Or you can take the lesser of two evils – a bargain with me, and forge a new future for yourselves and your loved ones. Make a sacrifice yourselves so the ones you care about most may have a future.’

The demon elected to give them a month to make up their minds. On the eve of the next full moon the brothers came back to him and they formed a fateful pact. Issaut and Imurela pledged their souls and those of their future children in exchange for the power they needed to take the tribe for themselves.

Having completed their bargain with him, the brothers returned to the settlement to challenge the tribal druids and their warriors.

No one thought they stood a chance that night. The elders ordered the brothers restrained and imprisoned. But the two men fought back. They each had superhuman strength, speed, and skill with their spears. Imurela could predict the attacks of the people he fought against and Issaut could disappear and reappear at will effortlessly.

Not only that, they seemed practically invincible in battle. They were immune to pain and tireless. They challenged and fought sixteen of the tribe’s strongest warriors, groups of them at a time. The two brothers would not be felled. When no more warriors would face them they confronted the elders and made them pay for their sins.

With the elders dead, the remaining warriors bent their knees in submission.

It was simple for the two to proclaim themselves leaders once the fight was over. In fact, it was practically done for them by their people. The tribe was theirs now.

The others in the tribe would from that day forward believe the pair were blessed by the gods. It was a lie the brothers allowed them to think.

From that day on there they ruled the tribe fairly and justly, as best as they were able. Issaut’s family recovered in a couple weeks. The tribe flourished and grew, supported by trading with Roman and later Bavarian and Slavic peoples. The brothers were blessed with an unnaturally long life and they hardly aged at all over the next decades, which further solidified their deity-like status among their people. They became local legends.

Issaut was a warrior, and Imurela became a druid. They worked and thought differently. This was their strength, but in time it also became their greatest weakness.

Over those years Issaut and Imurela had plenty of disagreements. They saw different visions for the tribe’s future: Imurela wanted them to form alliances with other nearby tribes, while Isaut thought they should conquer or subjugate any not under their rule. The disagreement over the principles of ruling created a rift between them.

Imurela in particular grew increasingly discontented. He eventually became convinced his brother would lead the people of the tribe to their downfall with the choices he was making for its future.

Imurela summoned the demon again in private and expressed these feelings. The demon claimed that he could take his brother’s power for himself – if he could win against him in a fair fight.

Imurela, though a great warrior, had never been a match for Issaut in combat. Because he knew he would lose a duel between them, he decided on a different approach.

Imurela lured Issaut out into the woods and stabbed him in the back with a dagger coated with a specially crafted poison. But Issaut fought back. He took the dagger from Imurela and cut him with it. Following their fast and brutal altercation, they both died from the poison coursing through their veins and their fate was sealed.

The demon was furious at the outcome and decided they had both failed him. It cursed their spirits to become twisted deities of the woods, separate urban legends each in their own right. Issaut, the Faceless One, and Inurela the Deceiver.  They’ve been wandering the woods as haunted spirits ever since -’

‘Hey, what the -’

A woman had grabbed Emily’s arm. She was haggard and old. I was close enough to Emily to smell her overpowering perfume and sweat. She held Emily’s arm in a vice-like grip.

Emily attempted to pull her arm away. The woman was stronger than she looked, but she let go as fast as she’d grabbed her and took a couple steps back.

‘Do not speak of them,’ she hissed. ‘It brings bad luck – and perhaps worse things.’

Emily frowned at her. ‘Is-’

The old woman pressed a finger to my sister’s lips to shush her. ‘Do not even speak of their names, child! Please!’

Emily apologized and the woman did too, appearing a little embarrassed with herself. We both went off on our own way. It was one of the first indications I would have that the people of Avalon were a bit of a superstitious lot.

There was also the limping homeless guy with haunted eyes I met the first time I visited the town weeks earlier. He kept insisting that the town was cursed and screamed some nonsensical curses when I didn’t react to his words.

Avalon was an eerie place, in its own unique way.

‘I could discuss the history Celtic peoples here for hours,’ Emily declared once we’d put some distance between ourselves and the old woman. ‘They’re such a fascinating culture; so mysterious, complex and so many other things!’

She must have noticed I looked preoccupied because she switched her attention over to me.

‘How are you feeling about things, anyway? Do you like the town?’ She asked hopefully.

‘No.’ I said. ‘What’s there to like?’

‘Oh come on, it’s beautiful,’ Emily cried, gesturing around her at the slopes and steep hills of deep green rising up past the town.

‘I hoped it would be a little warmer,’ I mumbled. ‘Why is it always so cold around here?’

Emily rubbed her shoulders in acknowledgement. ‘It’ll be better in the summer’, she said.

‘It’ll be worse during winter,’ I’d countered, and Emily pouted.

After we finished touring the local ruins, Emily made me take another trip through town with her. She drove me through streets filled with colorful and majestic houses, some of which were built against the steep foothills of nearby mountains. Emily wanted to show me around town, sharing with me the best restaurants, bakeries and cafes. She took me to the big library, the busy Italian Plaza, and then the medieval church. She was near desperate to prove how nice the town was.

‘It’ll be better here,’ she said, nudging me by the arm. ‘It will. We’ve both got an opportunity for a fresh start.’

She must have noticed I wasn’t really listening to her. ‘What are you thinking?’ She asked.

‘About our father,’ I told her. ‘I miss him.’

‘I miss them both,’ she murmured. ‘Mom and dad.’ I felt her wrap an arm around my shoulders and tug me closer.

‘Come on Tristrian. Give this place a chance. Please?’

After a moment I relented. ‘I’ll be fine. You should focus on yourself. On your degree. Getting accepted into Samara University was a big deal!’

Emily smiled at me slightly. ‘I will. But I want to see you do the same thing. You have to try to get a fresh start here.’

I nodded. I tried to put some resolve in my voice as I affirmed my commitment to making something better of my life.

I have no idea if Emily bought my act. I felt like acting like I cared was all I could manage at the moment. I wasn’t quite ready to let myself feel emotions properly again.

After a couple of hours of touring and a light lunch at Emily’s new favorite cafe in town, I made an excuse about meeting my uncle back at home. She looked like she was about to protest, and I was relieved when she decided not to.

She hugged me tight and ruffled my hair.

‘Call me, okay? Regularly. Like once a week, at least,’ she said. ‘You know how much of a nightmare I’ll make life for you if you don’t.’

‘Sure,’ I said, tiredly. ‘Of course.’

She continued to eye me for a long moment before returning to her car.

Emily turned to look back at me before driving away. Her face was one of concern, her gaze filled with unspoken words.

We were both pretending to be okay, I realized. Only Emily was much better at it than me. I tried my best to smile. She smiled sadly back.

Chapter 2

Emily had told me to make some friends. Decent people too, she said, not the kind who would get me into trouble.

Luckily for me, I was good at making friends. I could pick out the type who were easy to talk to and simple to satisfy. Usually, I could get a gauge of someone’s personality from one good look at them.

On my first day at school, I was greeted by a friendly, dim witted looking guy my age who immediately took a liking to me. His name was Ronnie and I’d accepted his befriending, tolerating his constant and slightly annoying prattling.

We compared classes. He needed a partner for an assignment in chemistry class, which we shared. I agreed readily. He probably made the mistake of thinking I was more intelligent than I actually was. See, I wear glasses, I dress nice, and I’ve become somewhat quiet and withdrawn since the accident, so I suppose I possess something of a nerdy dememaur. But I’ve really never been that type of person.

I could never forget the first time I saw her.

It was during recess. Me and Ronnie were walking alongside two of his other friends, a guy and a girl I couldn’t recall the names of. She was different from everyone else. I said I could read people fairly well, but not her. She was a mystery, and that alone intrigued me.

‘There is no way you have a chance with her, man,’ Ronnie’s friend whispered when she noticed where I was looking. I decided against answering her.

The girl’s eyes sparkled as she laughed at something her friend said. All her friends looked kind of bland and boring beside her, even though they were clearly some of the most popular and pretty kids at school.

Unexpectedly, she looked up and caught my gaze. She held it confidently until I turned mine away.

Whoever she was, I had to know her.

I was prepared for our next encounter. First I figured out where her locker was. Then I approached her when she stopped there to get some things. I waited until she was done sorting through her textbooks and getting ready to head off to her next class.

The girl didn’t react until I was close. When I cleared my throat, she appeared startled.

Her eyes appraised me. She didn’t seem impressed with what she saw.

‘You dropped this,’ I explained.

She looked at the rose in my hand and gave a short giggle, her face changing, breaking out into a disarming smile.

‘Wow. That’s very sweet of you,’ she told me.

‘I’m Tristian, by the way’ I said.

‘Desdemona,’ she responded.

‘Like from Shakespeare?’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Yes, like from Shakespeare.’

‘It’s very nice to meet you, Desdemona.’ I gave her my best confident grin. When she smiled back I felt a little thrill run through me.

The moment between us was interrupted by the arrival of a blonde eyed boy and another pretty girl who matched Desdemona’s grace and style. They each shared the same lustrous complexion, azure tinged eyes and slender features. It wasn’t hard to tell they were related somehow.

The boy and girl stopped behind Desdemona in unison. The boy eyed me with something near contempt; the girl, curiosity.

‘It’s time to go,’ the boy said, turning to Desdemona. ‘We’re going to be late for history.’ The moment between us died away.

‘I’m new here,’ I put in. I was feeling awkward now. ‘I’m just trying to get to know a few people. Hey, maybe I’ll see you in class sometime?’

‘Yeah, we’ll see,’ she said distractedly.

Desdemona gave me one last curious look before trailing after them, while I stood by with the rose in my hand looking like an idiot. I met her gaze was probably a little too long. Her male companion turned back to give me a disdainful look.

I noticed Desdemona frequently during my first couple days at school. She was hard to miss. The girl drew people to her like butterflies to a flower. She had a limitless supply of friends and they all adored her.

Avalon’s gymnasium offers fencing classes – among several other unique sports and art classes including acrobatics, aerials, dance classes and competitive athletics.

My choices of subjects had mostly been automatic. I picked what appeared easiest or what was familiar. None of the ‘performing arts’ classes were particularly appealing. Since I had to pick a couple I selected the required quota pretty much at random. Thus I had ended up with fencing.

I wasn’t happy when I walked into the room and spotted the guy who interrupted my moment with Desdemona.

I took a dislike to the class the second I saw him, and the feeling didn’t improve once things kicked off.

First there was an exhausting warm up running around the training area. I lagged increasingly behind everyone else and the teacher kept calling out for me to keep up.

After the run we retrieved uncomfortable looking fencing gear from an overflowing supply closet and changed into it. Then I followed my classmates to the front of the studio where we gathered before the teacher.

‘Today we are going to focus on rhythm,’ the teacher announced. The saber in his hand drew idle circles in the air. ‘A critical part of the fencing routine.’

‘Fencing is like a dance, and like any dancer, a fencer must pay attention to flow and tempo.’

He began to move slowly back and forth across the stage.

It took me less than a minute to tune out of what the teacher was saying. I began flicking through my phone when I thought he wasn’t looking.

Unfortunately it turned out he was paying more attention than I gave him credit for. Not a minute later I heard his voice carrying out across the room.

‘Put your phone away please, Tristrian.’

I somehow couldn’t imagine he was talking about me. I had to look around to confirm the fact.There were a couple of snickers from the students surrounding me. I sighed and put my phone in my pocket. The teacher pressed his lips together, allowing the silence to stretch on a little longer before resuming his speech.

‘I expect all students to take my class seriously.’ He sounded more irritated the second time he caught me a couple minutes later.

I glanced up, startled. I thought I was being surreptitious, having shifted toward the back of the little gathering of students.

Apparently not. I decided Mr. Thompson was one of those nosy teachers who was always going to be an ass to me. He didn’t say anything else but based on the judgemental look he gave me, I suspected he wasn’t done with me quite yet.

After a couple more minutes of explaining the nature of rhythm to us, the teacher moved on to show some moves to the class, and there his attention returned to me.

‘Tristrian care to assist in a demonstration?’ He asked.

‘I think I’ll pass,’ I told him.

‘It wasn’t a request.’ He responded almost before I’d finished speaking.

Once I was standing before him with a saber in my hand, he proceeded to ask the class what was wrong with my stance. A hand shot up immediately.

‘Too relaxed.’ It was Desdemona’s brother, or cousin or whatever. He elaborated with, ‘he’s not focused at all.’

The teacher nodded. He was pleased by this assessment. ‘Very good, Eldid.’

The teacher made a show of correcting my position, offhandedly insulted me a couple of times, and then went off on another tangent about fighting techniques, apparently forgetting I was still standing with him on stage.

When it came time for us to move on to the practical part of the class, the teacher had me practice several basic positions, what he called the ‘fundamentals’ of fencing. Eldid was assigned as my mentor. The teacher guided me through the positions, while Eldid acted as a demonstrator.

Eldid quickly got bored and began to toy with me. His hand twisted in a sudden flash of movement while making a jab at me. The sword spun out of my hand and I yelled out in surprise and pain.

‘You stopped paying attention,’ Eldid commented. ‘Not a good idea in fencing. You could get yourself injured. Seriously.’

I wanted to say something rude and I very nearly did until I noticed the teacher was still quietly observing us. He had taken no comment at what Eldid did, even starting to smile as he watched us.

I picked up the sword with sweaty, gloved fingers. I winced a little as my hand closed around the blade.

Eldid repeated the stunt after a couple more minutes of practicing.

‘I’ve fought plenty of guys who are new to this and none of them sucked quite as much as you do,’ he drawled as I reached down to pick up the sword again.

The teacher whose name I forgot stepped over to put in helpfully, ‘you’re panicking. You’re not in control. Don’t rush the sequence, focus on each move one at a time.’

There was no comment about Eldid’s repeated attempts to injure me.

He continued to observe Eldid embarrass me over the following couple of minutes, repeatedly knocking the sword out of my hand – or knocking me off my feet altogether. He actually went as far as letting out a short laugh one time.

Thank god Eldid eventually grew bored with me and politely asked to pick a new fencing partner.

‘This was fun,’ he said. ‘I’ll teach you a couple more tricks next week, how about it?’

He clapped me on the shoulder, causing me to bite my lip in protest – he’d hit a bruise which was forming there.

‘Seriously?’ I asked, glancing back. ‘You’ve got to be kidding.’

‘Oh, and stay away from my sister,’ he added. The smile vanished.

The teacher noticed some of the kids staring at us and called out to them. ‘Continue. Don’t let our new student over here distract you.’

As Eldid moved across the room to another pair of fencers, the teacher left me to run some more laps around the room. For the rest of the class he took little interest in me. Apparently he had enacted what he deemed a suitable punishment for my insolence.

I’d been encouraged by Desdemona’s reaction when we officially met.

Now I have to admit I can kind of come off as arrogant sometimes – particularly when I’m hitting on someone. Usually girls seem to like it. She didn’t.

Over the course of a number of short interactions, I proceeded to make an idiot of myself in front of her. First I tried flirting with her. Desdemona matched me word for word. She took the words I thought sounded cute and made them sound stupid. Her friends scowled or laughed at me.

I tried offering another charming gift, but this time she wasn’t impressed by it. She made the fact pretty clear by tossing the flower back in my face and telling me she was allergic to daffodils and then to piss off.

Yeah. I was pretty sure she was done with me after that.

During our semi frequent calls I’d gotten good at convincing Emily I was okay. And I guess I almost was. I was okay as I was ever going to get after we lost our only parent.

A part of the deal I’d made with her before we left our old home was for me to ‘live my life.’ It meant I couldn’t spend all my time holed up in my room listening to music or browsing netflix like I had been doing since my father died.

One highlight of Avalon is the range of festivities and events which are hosted frequently over here. They range from weekend makers markets and historical parades to special outdoor movie screenings.

I’d gone to the summer solstice festival to meet with Ronnie and his friends. After twenty minutes of listening to bands play I decided I didn’t much like the music. I slipped away from the group with the excuse of getting something to eat.

I wasn’t feeling particularly hungry. After a couple minutes of mindless wandering I arrived at a whimsically decorated stall advertising itself as a ‘one stop wicca shop’ selling potions, trinkets and fortune telling sessions.

Moving past beaded curtains which rattled gently around me I entered a dim, candlelit space dominated by a table with a blood-red cloth draped over it. At the table sat a young woman, her hands resting place down before her.

She looked at me as if she’d been expecting me. I felt like her mysterious demeanor seemed kind of contrived, though.

The first round of tarot card reading she did for me was what you’d expect. The girl offered observations about a complicated and challenging future awaiting me and discussed how my life was going to change big-time soon. She was as vague as she could get away with and I quickly lost interest.

Half tuned out to her words, I glanced around at various accessories strung about the room. There were photos of the girl’s eccentric family. There were also abstract looking sculptures; one of a robed woman balanced on a crescent moon, another of a fat looking demon grinning down at me with green, jeweled eyes.

‘You’re special.’ The woman spoke up, drawing my gaze back to her. ‘You have a fascinating journey ahead.’ She must have noticed I was losing interest.

I noticed she had one last card to turn over. She did so with a practiced flourish.

I’d been expecting some kind of surprised reaction. Instead, her response to what she saw on the cards was muted.

‘The Goatman.’ She frowned. ‘A Forbidden Card.’

She flipped it over and then back again before placing it facedown on the table. Her eyes lingered on it for a couple seconds before they met mine again.

‘It’s kind of a bad omen,’ she admitted, with an uneasy grin. ‘I very rarely draw that one. Don’t worry. All the other cards are fine omens. You’ve just got some tricky decisions ahead of you. That’s all it means in this context.’

There was a second reading, which was unremarkable. Then the girl asked if I was prepared for my third and final reading. With my approval she’d shuffled the deck of cards and placed five of them in a pentagonal shape on the table before us.

With every subsequent card she turned over the tension in the small room increased.

She plucked up the cards from left to right. ‘The devil. Symbolic of judgment.

The hanged man. Martyrdom. Sacrifice. Death. Ending, change.

She paused before the last pair, fingering the edge of one before pulling it over. 8 of swords. A symbol of hard times to come.

Then there was the final card she presented to me: ‘And… Oh, it’s the Issaut. The Faceless One. Oh my, you drew both of the Cursed Brothers.’

By then, she looked actually disturbed. It was as if there was something more than cards staring back up at her from the table. They’d acquired a life of their own and each watched her with a cold malevolence.

She took her time finding the words to explain the latest reading to me. ‘Your future – it is like none I’ve ever seen. Some dark times await you, I think. ’

I chuckled. ‘You use that line for every one of your customers?’

She shook her head rapidly. ‘I make no jest. Your coming here was a bad idea.’

She pushed the goatman card away from her with one hand. ‘I don’t think you should be here,’ she declared.

‘What?’ My smile slowly faded.

‘In this town, I mean,’ she clarified awkwardly.

‘Well, there’s not much I can do about that now.’ I tried to force out a chuckle.

She surveyed the cards slowly. ‘No, not now,’ she agreed. ‘Your fate is inevitable.’

She reached out and pulled the cards toward herself. In a few quick movements she collected them, shuffled the deck thoroughly and pushed it to the side.

The girl guided me outside. She was still polite but also oddly keen to get me out of her stall.

I was a bit unsettled at first. Then I realized it had to be all part of her act. And I’ll give her credit, the act did get to me. A little bit.

I went back to my friends and recommended her to them. I was looking forward to hearing about their own experiences with her.

Chapter 3

I happened across Desdemona by accident while searching for a quiet place to take a phone call. She was in an isolated area around the back of one of the school buildings, entirely absorbed in what she was doing on her phone. She paused to lean against the wall as she texted something. I shuffled back a couple steps into the hallway I’d emerged from so she wouldn’t notice me.

Just as I was doing this, three guys came around from the opposite edge of the building. They noticed her immediately and the second they saw there wasn’t anyone else around, their expressions changed.

The tallest one walked over quickly and got into her personal space, reaching out to touch her hair. He spoke up, asking, ‘where are all your friends now, sweetie?’

If it was anyone else, I probably wouldn’t have interceded. Of course, it wasn’t. Desdemona lifted her head slowly and faced them down. ‘What do you want?’

‘We just wanted to ask, is it true what they say?’ Another one put in. ‘Is Dionysia screwing her brother? Cause I’ve seen them acting real sus together when they don’t think anybody’s there to see.’

The guys all laughed.

‘What about you? Are you like that too?’

‘Come on, don’t be an asshole,’ I called as I neared them. ‘Leave her alone.’

He turned slowly toward me. The other two guys slowly followed suit.

‘I’ll say whatever I want to her,’ he said. His voice was condescending. ‘What the hell are you going to do to stop me?’

I allowed him to close the distance between us, holding my ground. ‘Haven’t you got anything better to do than harass people?’

He grabbed my shirt with one fist and shoved me, sending me stumbling backwards. I swore. The guy had the strength of a freaking bull.

He laughed. ‘Run away, new kid,’ he said. ‘Before -’

From behind Desdemona smacked him across the back of the head. She possessed a power belying her slender frame. He staggered back, cried out, and fell into the fence behind him. His two friends stepped back in surprise.

She surveyed all three of them with a pitying expression. ‘Do not talk about my brother that way. Or Dionysia. Do you understand?’

She moved right up to the guy who’d confronted her as he was retreating toward his friends. Despite being much shorter than him, he looked intimidated by her.

She shoved him backward again with both her hands. ‘Do you have any idea what he’d do to you if he learned you’re saying those things?’

The bell rang, cutting her short. Desdemona glared at the guys before heading off, pushing past two of them on her way.

She hardly acknowledged me. The guys didn’t either. They’d practically forgotten I was there, so I took the opportunity to skirt past them myself.

She surprised me later as I was walking between classes.

‘What you did, earlier, she said softly, touching my arm. It was stupid. But – it was also quite chivalrous of you. Though I didn’t really need your help and you could have gotten yourself hurt. I can handle them on my own next time, okay?’

I quickly composed myself. ‘I was just doing what any guy would have done,’ I said. ‘You know.’ She pressed her lips together.

‘You stay away from them, alright?’ she repeated.

‘Of course,’ I said earnestly. ‘No more chivalry from me, I promise.’

There was an awkward pause, then she half smiled and added, ‘hey, I’ll see you in class, okay?’

She isn’t just charming, I decided. She is bloody magnetic.

Me and Desdemona did in fact share a class, as I was delighted to discover. It was an elective I’d picked because it looked easy for me: piano studies.

Up until that point, my attempts to approach her had all been rejected, first with amusement, then annoyance.

Seeing how our last interaction went, I decided to try a new approach to get her attention.

I knew she liked music. I could see it from the way she got caught up in what she was doing whenever she started playing the piano during class, and how she always listened intently to what the teacher was saying when they gave advice to her.

In comparison to her, I wasn’t much of a piano player anymore, but I used to be pretty competent back in my pre-teenage years.

The kind of music I used to play was the kind of music I thought she would like. And luckily for me, my instincts were right.

I’d arrived early to the class to steal a seat beside where she usually sat.

She smiled when she saw me. It was different from the smiles she gave me before then. Less artificial, and more genuine.

When given the opportunity to work on our chosen music piece, I asked her what hers was and then I played mine for her.

‘It’s a beautiful song,’ Desdemona said, once I’d finished it.

I was uncharacteristically nervous and I stumbled over my words in an attempt to respond.

Once I found the right words, things went better. It was easier to talk to her when she cared about what I was saying.

I went on to ask her about her own music tastes and hesitantly explained what kind of music I was into (rock) in as interesting a way as I could.

When she asked to hear me play the first melody again, I felt a thrill of surprise.

‘My mom taught it to me, years ago,’ I explained afterward. ‘It was one of her favorites. We used to play together all the time, but I haven’t played too much since… Well, she passed away six years ago.’

‘I’m sorry,’ she said, a little sadly.

‘I can teach it to you if you want,’ I suggested. I added, ‘I’d like to, if you were interested.’

She hesitated. ‘Yes. I…. I would like that too.’

I spent the next part of the lesson walking her through the melody. She caught on fast. She told me she had all three minutes of the song mesmerized after playing through it a couple times.

‘My mother first taught piano to me when I was five,’ she said as she played. ‘She’s quite the pianist. You should hear her play sometime.’ She glanced sideways at me without pausing the melody she was playing. Her fingers danced over the keys as if they possessed a life of their own.

‘Would you like to go out with me?’

Desdemona paused her playing. She blinked. ‘Uh, excuse me?’

I made myself repeat the question. I was expecting another rejection but I couldn’t help myself.

Her mouth twitched up in an amused smile. ‘You are persistent, aren’t you? I -’

She was about to answer and then Enid, one of her other friends who’d given me a cross look when she caught me stealing her usual seat next to Desdemona interrupted us and asked Desdemona for some help with another song.

Desdemona offered me an apologetic look before leaning over to speak to her. After five minutes she’d practically forgotten I was there, and I couldn’t bring myself to disturb her.

During our tentative conversation I’d begun fantasizing about what it would be like to sit down at a restaurant or a cafe with her. It would be great to get to know her without any interruptions.

After class ended. I searched through the groups of milling students for Desdemona so I could say goodbye to her.

‘Tristrian?’ A voice asked, making me jump a little.

I turned around. Desdemona was standing right behind me.

‘Yes,’ she said, clasping her hands. ‘I will go out with you. Would you like to attend the harvest festival this weekend?’

I had already been. Twice.

‘Yeah, sure. I wanted to go, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet. Been too busy with… Studying, and stuff. You know.’

‘Great,’ Desdemona said, smiling brightly. ‘I’ll meet you at the main entrance at around 10 am?’

It took me a couple moments to collect myself. ‘Of course,’ I said. ‘Yeah. The main entrance. 10am. Got it.’

‘Great!’

My eyes followed her departure alongside Enid and another one of her friends. I quietly shook myself when I realized I was grinning stupidly and turned to go on my own way.

One of my new friends, a guy named Oliver who Ronnie had introduced me to, mentioned he’d heard about something disturbing happening to a couple of the football team’s top players. When he mentioned them by name, I remembered them as the ones who tried to pick on Desdemona.

‘The guys were freaking attacked by an animal. In the middle of a park around Wiesen.’

‘What?’ I had to have him repeat what he said.

‘Yeah, and they claim Eldid was behind it. You see, he owns a Czechoslovakian Wolfdog as a pet. Have I told you about that? His name is Shadow. He’s a pretty one, but not very friendly to strangers.’

‘These kids typically hang out to smoke at the park. They say he was waiting for them there this time. With Shadow. Eldid himself denies ever being there.’

‘The parents of two of the players were threatening to press charges against him. Then Esther stepped in and all the guys’ families just kind of shut up. They don’t want to mess with her.’

‘As for the kids, they seem okay mostly, except for Flynn. He’s still in hospital recovering from being mauled. He nearly lost a leg, apparently, so he won’t be going back to playing sports anytime soon.’

‘I wouldn’t feel too sorry though,’ Oliver continued happily. ‘No one wants to say so, but everyone hates him. Even the people who pretend to be his friends. He’s a freaking perv.’

He sniffed dismissively. ‘He always had a creepy obsession with Eldid’s sisters. He had it coming, I think.’

I agreed. ‘Do you really think Eldid did it?’ I asked.

He looked uncertain. ‘No one wants to ask. But it wouldn’t be the first time he’s hurt someone. Most people aren’t dumb enough to get on his bad side.’

I contemplated what might happen if I upset Desdemona and Eldid found out about it.

‘For sure,’ I said. ‘I don’t like Eldid, but Flynn definitely had it coming.’

Chapter 4

As I settled into my new life at Avalon, Emily lectured me further on the history of the town. About how the celtic settlement was destroyed and rebuilt by Slavs and then taken over by the Bavarians a century later. It fell under the reign of various dukes and lords, though most of the time Avalon was too isolated and difficult to reach to be of much interest to the local rulers. Furthermore, it was considered by outsiders to be a ‘cursed’ area as a result of the deaths and misfortunes frequently befalling inhabitants of the place.

‘Some people still believe that, I think,’ Emily admitted. ‘People living here are superstitious to say the least.’

She wrapped her trench coat more tightly around herself and readjusted her grip on the steaming Cappuccino in her hand.

‘You can’t talk about the history of the town and not mention the Volkovs. They’ve been presiding over the town for as long as anyone can remember. They claim to have lived here for over a thousand years. I believe it actually might be true, too.’

She paused. ‘I’m sure you must have heard of them by now?’

She looked sideways.

Desdemona. And Eldid. And Dionysia.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I have.’

Noticing she’d caught my attention, Emily launched into a lecture about Volkov family politics.

‘There are three main factions in the family, corresponding to the three children of the Patriarch, Leofric. Esther, Normann, and Roman. Each of them control a sizable portion of town. Normann is the owner of the Italian Plaza and all of its five star restaurants, Esther owns the shopping mall and most of the street it’s on, and Roman presides over the really big old catholic Church, who he’s the minister of. He also runs some smaller places like the gun shop, the legal firm and the funeral home.’

‘Whenever a business becomes successful in Avalon, one of the three are quick to gain ownership of it or build a friendship with the current owners. In time, the family gets whatever they want in Avalon.’

‘They seem pretty influential,’ I observed.

‘Yes, they are,’ Emily agreed. She sounded almost unsettled. ‘Weirdly so. They behave like they’re royalty or something.’ She laughed a little.

‘You wouldn’t believe how much trouble they get themselves into,’ she continued after she’d collected her thoughts. ‘Like there’s a long list of criminal cases relating back to them. Missing persons cases involving people they’re somehow connected to. Plus lots of legal disputes between them because of land or wealth they’re fighting over.’

‘How do you know all this?’ I asked curiously.

‘I went through some public records at the library,’ she said.

She turned her head, saw my expression, and huffed. ‘I’m just curious, that’s all. Don’t worry about it.’

A week following Emily introduced me to another topic of fascination for her.

‘Seven months ago a girl disappeared in this town,’ she informed me. ‘Her name was Anne Aevery. She caused a bit of a stir when she got caught snooping around the Volkov family residence shortly prior to her disappearance. I’ve done some reading up on the case. It’s a fascinating mystery, I’ll tell you. I’ve got some people on a list to interview who knew her.’

‘Why?’ I asked. ‘What do you hope to get out of it exactly?’

‘I… Want to make a documentary. I’ve been waiting for some kind of inspiration to film, and I feel like this is it.’

‘Do you really think it’s the best idea to try the sleuth thing again?’ I asked her.

‘That’s not what this is,’ she said quickly. ‘I meant it.’

I would like to have said she looked earnest, but her expression was inscrutable.

‘Well, don’t get too caught up with it, alright? Don’t get yourself into trouble.’

I felt like what Emily was planning was a bad idea. I didn’t say so, but I think she knew it, too.

The Saturday I had my date with Desdemona couldn’t come quickly enough. I spent the preceding day wondering what to wear and how to act around her. Confident? Aloof? I was used to being whatever I thought a particular girl would like, but she was different.

I decided it would be better to be myself. I think it was what she would have expected from me. Being myself felt inadequate, but it had worked out so far, so why not?

‘I’ve been curious as to what you’ve heard about my family,’ Desdemona commented as we were moving through the masses of people with plum cake slices in our hands.

We walked past a pair of food stalls, moving to the side for a cluster of parents as they rushed after two laughing kids. One of her hands brushed up against mine. The jolt it sent through me was so distracting my mind blanked for a second.

‘They’re powerful, elite and like, very wealthy right?’

‘Undoubtedly,’ she agreed. ‘What else have you heard?’

I summarized most of what Emily had said. Desdemona seemed amused but didn’t comment. I’d been hoping to hear more about them from her. For now I was disappointed. She wanted to learn more about me instead.

Later though, after we began trading stories about how crappy our childhoods had been, she became more open about it.

‘The problem with my mother’, she told me, ‘is how strict she is. With me in particular, though my siblings also.’

‘She’s crazy strict about what we wear and how we conduct ourselves when we’re in public, particularly during special events the family hosts. It’s insane how far my family will go with etiquette. You have to bow or curtsey before the certain people, women are expected to wear gowns and do their hair elaborately, while men will spend fortunes on suits. Also there is absolutely no swearing, not even uttering things like ‘damn, or god.’ Thank god we don’t have to act that way all the time. If I did, I do think I’d go mad.’

She continued, ‘plus, there’s an endless supply of family drama. People are constantly fighting, members of the family are always getting into spats and disputes. Anything of any value is fought over and any position of influence in the town is contested. Sometimes disputes will last whole freaking generations. A Volkov never forgets a vendetta, mother always tells me.’

‘The worst of the fighting is between my mom and my two uncles: Esther, Normann and Roman. Things are particularly tense right now because rumors have been circulating that Leofric – who is the de facto ruler of the family – is about to elect a successor.’

‘My family influences everything and everyone who’s important around here,’ Desdemona explained. ‘The police chief, the dean of Samara university, and the mayor are all friends of one of them. Nothing important ever happens without their approval.’

She waved her hands in the air, looking to either side of her. ‘Do you know they sponsored this whole event?’

‘No, I didn’t,’ I admitted. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah! Esther personally donated like ten thousand dollars to fund the setup expenses and hiring of staff and stuff. She does it every year. My family can be very generous when they feel like it.’

I had a lot of fun learning about her. By the end of the day I had a hundred more questions about her family and the expensive and otherworldly life they led.

Desdemona herself seemed inexplicably fascinated by me, despite how mundane and boring my life was in comparison to hers.

My first encounter with Desdemona’s family was at the weekend markets. One of Desdemona’s friends who’d warmed up to me let me know Desdemona was doing some volunteering there for a couple weeks.

They were in the last steps of setting up a stall when I found them. The merchandise showcased included an array of plush toy animals, key rings, and other similarly themed souvenirs.

As I came closer, I noticed small, glazed statues of various birds and wolves on display. Each one was painted in exceptional beauty and detail.

When she saw me, Desdemona gave me a bright smile and waved enthusiastically.

‘All the profits go to wildlife preservation. We’re raising money for endangered birds, ’ Desdemona explained as I came over to look.

She pointed to pictures of a couple of the birds posted up on the back canvas of the stall, naming each one in turn. ‘The Stalker Falcon, the Greater Spotted Eagle, the Snowy Owl.’ She grinned. ‘The Atlantic Puffin. Cute, isn’t it?’

‘Who is this?’ Another voice cut in. Desmona jumped a bit and turned around. I looked up, too. ‘Mother’ she said, in a voice full of an uncharacteristic awkwardness. ‘I’m sorry, this is Tristian. A – friend from school. We share a couple of classes together.’

Esther was the mother of Desdemona, Dionysia, and Eldid, along with a pair of other much younger siblings. She certainly shared in the startling beauty of her children. She possessed the same lustrous, curly hair, sharp eyes, and impeccably smooth skin. Her hair was long and elegantly braided. She also appeared somewhat ageless – I couldn’t guess if she was thirty or fifty. She was wearing a fluttering, dark blue dress which rose up to her shoulders with long, elegantly rimmed sleeves.

Esther seemed quite indifferent to the cold which everyone else was bundled up against. Like Desdemona, she stubbornly refused to dress for the weather.

It was clear from the outset we were to be quiet about our relationship with Desdemona’s mother, and though she was friendly, I couldn’t help feeling her gaze digging into me as we talked.

I pointed to the painted clay figures of Authrurian characters, horses, and mythical creatures.

‘Did you make these?’ I asked. ‘They’re beautiful.’

‘My aunt does,’ Esther said with a warm smile. ‘She spends most of her time indoors but likes to find a way to contribute to these events like she used to.’

‘Maybe we can meet later, go pick up something for lunch?’ Desdemona piped up.

She looked between me and her mother.

‘Of course dear,’ she said, rubbing her daughter’s shoulder. ‘You’ve been great these past few days.’

Desdemona practically glowed at the praise.

The two of us agreed on a time. Then I bought one of the medium sized pushies and thanked both of them.

Desdemona had described Esther to a tee. She was impeccably polite, but had a sharp edge to her which made me sure I would not want to be on her bad side.

When we met later that afternoon, Dedemona was looking slightly flustered.

‘She knows about us, I think,’ she told me. ‘It’s okay. She was going to find out eventually. Though I haven’t figured out what she thinks of our relationship yet.’

Our relationship, I repeated silently. That’s what we are now. I’d never been so happy to be going steady with someone before.

‘She was very nice.’ Such a description sounded inadequate, but it was all I could think of to say about Esther.

A couple of weeks later Emily again brought up her fascination with the mysteries surrounding Avalon.

‘This lore on this town is like a rabbit hole,’ she admitted. You keep discovering more strange things the deeper you dive into its history.’

‘You know something?’ She continued without waiting for a reply. ‘The number of people who have gone missing in Avalon is ridiculous! At least twelve individuals during the last three years. And literally no one talks about it. The cases are all glossed over by the local media. Families move on with their lives and act like nothing ever happened. I tried to talk with Anne’s family, but when I brought up any questions relating to her disappearance they just kind of shut down and gave responses which sounded rehearsed.’

She picked out her camera from her bag fiddled with the lens with restless fingers. ‘I got called privately by one of Anne’s relatives who isn’t living here at the moment. They agreed to answer some questions anonymously. They seemed paranoid. It was weird. Like what are they so afraid of?’

Chapter 5

A week later, I received an unexpected email from Emily.

There’s something I want you to take a look at.

A link beneath the message directed me to a website archived on the WayBack Machine. It was titled simply Anne’s Blog. At first glance it looked boring. Each post was overly long and the images decorating the website looked like they belonged in a history textbook.

Then I started reading it.

Her research connected back to Emily’s obsession: the Volkovs. For Anne, the research had a bizarre twist to it.

There are all sorts of rumors surrounding them, she wrote in one post. Tales of people who go missing or have accidents following a feud with one of them. Of course they always have an expensive lawyer and a person or two in the press to explain it away.

There are those kinds of claims, but they’re not the most intriguing ones. They’re just the tip of the iceberg, in fact…

A person I spoke to at Northpoint Asylum claims to have seen Normann and some others chanting in the woods one night while performing the ritualistic sacrifice of a deer. He said one man put on the head of a goat which appeared to have been hollowed out. The others painted themselves with the blood of the deceased animal.

The night got more and more crazy as it wore on. Other things he saw later defy explanation. Flames which rose up unnaturally high into the sky, which itself had taken on an abnormal, blood red hue. Haunted faces watching from the trees and the eyes of the Volkovs turning completely black as they danced naked around the fire and made all sorts of unnatural, inhuman noises.

After he left that night he slowly turned insane. He claimed to be haunted by something he called the Deceiver, another one of the town’s local urban legends (I’ll link a post I wrote about him in the comments).

He’s locked up in the asylum now – one which as it happens Roman partially funded the construction of. My impressions based on our meeting are that he’s completely out of touch with reality. The nurses say there isn’t much hope for restoring his mental state. At least he seems well taken care of there.

There were plenty of pictures of what Anne called the Goatman on her website, along with another unfamiliar and equally disturbing, faceless individual.

Anne wanted to know if the Volkov family were practicing devil worshippers (those were her own words). Besides examining the local legends of the town and the family’s interest in them, she had investigated various happenings seen by people Avalon; ranging from strange rituals in the forest like the earlier man described to another individual who claimed seeing a Volkov walk right out of a high speed car crash entirely unharmed.

Over time, her fascination had honed in on one particular Volkov: Normann.

Most recently he began unearthing the bones of a number of witches, shamans, and other alleged practitioners of magic from cultures all over the world. He’s also bought some very expensive, obscure and ancient texts. The information he’s gathering pertains to demons, Akuma, shaytan, or whatever name they are known as in the cultures these books belong to. He’s learning all he can about how they are summoned, bound, and controlled. A lot of it must be nonsense written by frauds or madmen, perhaps all of it. But then I don’t believe Normann thinks that.

This is the best lead I’m going to get.

In a subsequent post, Anne wrote: I’ve been following Normann’s strange obsession with a mysterious mine in Austria. He recently employed some new protogees into his service to acquire an unnamed artifact from the depths of these caves, which has been allegedly buried there for thousands of years. I don’t know what it is, only that Normann read about it in one of those crazy old books he acquired.

John and his brother are expert miners and engineers by trade. They were both recruited by Normann six months ago to manage the operation.

I’ll tell you a bit about Normann. He has a reputed habit of giving people a ‘second chance’ when they are at a difficult point in their life through some kind of special favor. When these lucky individuals get their lives back in order they remain deeply indebted and loyal to him. Then Normann puts their talents in use to pursue his needs, whatever they may be. In this case Normann offered to pay off some debts in exchange for employing John’s expertise as a geological engineer, and his brother, who is a demolition expert.

For most people a deal with Normann turns out well for them.

But John (he is the owner of the company he and his brother work for) failed Normann. Normann instructed him to retrieve the artifact from the half flooded mine. It was a very difficult and perilous operation for a number of reasons. To make it short, the entire cave system was unstable and at risk of collapse from an earthquake.

After detonating several explosives underground a major cave-in occurred which got three of his employees killed and another pair injured. It resulted in John abandoning the project – explicitly defying Normann’s  orders. Now Normann is upset. And when Normann is upset, bad things happen.

In this passage Anne was referring to my father, nearly a year before he died. According to Anne, he and my uncle knew about Normann and worked for him directly.

My dad had talked a little about quitting his job as a supervisor at the mining operation which had been earning him a lot of money. He’d discussed the disaster, too. He’d briefly mentioned a bad fight with his employer, though never by name, and never in my life would I have imagined it to be a Volkov.

He and my uncle did have a disagreement over the shutting down of the company, which Ian wanted to keep running for the money it was making them. This fight escalated to the point of them refusing to speak with each other.

Another passage from an update post written a couple days later read:

Normann went from playing nice with John to threatening him to attempting to blackmail him. Regardless, John has refused to back down. He won’t restart the mining operation and instead has threatened to get MSHA (Mine Safety and Health Administration) involved. The project has come to a standstill and Normann is becoming… Irritable.

Normann is oddly obsessed with acquiring whatever is in the mine. I’m beginning to think he really does believe whatever the scriptures claim.

One of the last posts I examined contained a single, disturbing image. My father and my uncle were standing next to a handsome, well dressed businessman. His gaze was piercing and he stared into the camera almost as if he was looking through it and into me.

I’d never seen the man but I still recognized him. He shared the features characteristic with all the Volkovs; the blonde hair, lustrous and supple complexion, and deep, soulful eyes. This, Anne claimed, was Normann. The picture was definitive proof my father had really been working for him and the Volkov family.

For now, Normann seems distracted with other matters. He’s given John an ultimatum, but I don’t think it is going to change John’s mind.

Emily also mentioned in her message that there were a couple more posts created immediately before the deletion of her blog which hadn’t been archived. She was in the process of searching for a different method of recovering them.

In the months following John’s death, Emily became convinced what happened to him was not an accident. She developed a whole conspiracy theory surrounding the idea. I thought it was her way of trying to process her grief. Now my entire world had just been turned upside down.

I responded by asking Emily if she believed all the stuff Anne wrote about the Volkovs. She replied, I don’t know yet. But I will find out the real truth behind our father’s death, whatever it is. I’ll have proof to back it up, too.

For now you’re just going to have to be patient. This might take a while.

‘I’m supposed to pretend everything is normal after what you’ve shown me?’ I responded to her.

Remember when you told me you could convince anyone of just about anything? I know you can fool him. Otherwise I would never have shared this with you.

Look, I know this is a lot to process. But if you want me to get to the bottom of what happened to John, you’ve got to stay quiet.

Things only got more complicated when Emily learned about my relationship with Desdemona. I found this out during an unexpected visit from her shortly after she emailed me with all of this.

She pushed past me into my uncle’s house. Tension was written into every movement she made.

When I noticed the furtive way she was glazing around, I told her, ‘Ian is at work at the moment.’

‘You have to stay away from her,’ she said, focusing back on me.

‘Who?’ I asked.

‘Desdemona!’ she replied impatiently. ‘I found out you two are a thing. Bad things are going to happen if you get intimate with her.’

‘So you read what I sent you?’ She cut in as I was about to respond.

‘Enough of it. But none of it involves her.’

‘Do you believe me?’ She proceeded to ask.

‘I don’t know!’ I said uncomfortably. ‘I suppose I do, yes.’

‘There is a lot more about them you still don’t know. Things the Normann and the others have done which I can’t prove – yet. Things much worse than what happened to John.’

‘Does any of it involve Desdemona?,’ I asked. ‘Or are you talking about Leofric and his other children?’

I relaxed a little bit when Emily didn’t immediately answer.

‘So as far as you know she’s not a part of this, then?’ I assumed. ‘Whatever this is.’

‘You really care about her, don’t you?’ Emily replied. She crossed her arms. ‘You’re an idiot.’

I tried to change the subject by pressing her about Normann. It didn’t work.

I could get into the rest of our argument about Desdemona but there wouldn’t be much point, except to make you feel uncomfortable reading about it. Surmise to say there was a reluctant agreement we’d come to by the end of our fight. I wouldn’t tell Desdemona anything about Emily’s investigation and she would leave us be; for the time being.

I felt guilty lying to her. More than I expected to, actually. But after what I’d read, what choice did I have? I needed to see Emily to get to the bottom of what happened to our father.

Chapter 6

It was one of the weekends when Desdemona was free from the mysterious duties of her family she was regularly expected to attend to.

I asked her what she wanted to do together. She suggested a trip to the forest for a little picnic.

Two days later we were meeting by a gap in between two backyards, where a slim pathway sloped upward into the forest and the foothills of the mountains.

She looked different dressed up in a pair of walking boots and tracksuit pants and a dark, leather shirt – though when she caught sight of me and smiled brightly, she was no less beautiful.

She appraised me. ‘You brought hiking clothes. Good. You’ll need them.’

We didn’t follow the trail for long. After no more than a couple of minutes of walking she veered off it abruptly. She appeared to know where she was going, which was reassuring, because it looked to me like we were headed straight into the middle of nowhere.

Deeper and deeper into the woods we went. Desdemona called at me to hurry up whenever I began to lag behind. I don’t know if she realized how much stamina she possessed – Desdemona never seemed to get tired.

We walked for maybe thirty minutes. We didn’t talk much, but it was a peaceful kind of quiet we shared between us.

Eventually, we reached a steep drop off where the ground fell into a wandering creek. The other side was two meters away, but the fall looked to be around ten meters.

Desdemona strode up to the edge confidently, kicking a couple of pebbles over and into the miniature canyon.

She glanced back and held out her arm. I looked down toward the bottom of the gully and then back at her.

‘Do you trust me?’ She asked. Her tone was teasing, but I felt like the question was serious.

‘Yes,’ I said. ‘I trust you.’

‘Then come on!’ She replied, laughing. ‘Let’s go. We’ll do it together.’

I thought if I waited too long I wouldn’t be able to gather the courage to join her, so I made myself move quickly.

I took her hand and we went running up to the ledge. We leapt together over it. I let out a gasp.

Seconds later, we landed in a sprawling heap on the other side. Both of us were laughing. The fear I had felt earlier was gone.

I helped her up. Her hand lingered on mine for a moment before she let go. She smiled in thanks.

There were numerous sides to Desdemona. There was an enchanting, mystical side to her, and then there was how I saw her that day in the forest; just a normal teenage girl. She was different when she was alone. Carefree, like a weight had been lifted off her shoulders. It was like she was afraid of what people would think if they saw how she looked underneath all her charms.

We settled down in the small and beautiful meadow Desdemona lead us to, still talking animatedly.

I spoke to her about Vienna – the city in Austria where I grew up, and then the various overseas countries I’d traveled to; Britain, North and South America. I lost myself for a bit going on about the many road trips I’d taken with my parents around Europe. They’d enjoyed lavishing me with holidays.

‘The trips became a way of remembering her after Caitlín – my mother passed away.’

She winced. ‘God. I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. Losing both your parents.’

She continued hesitantly, ‘I lost my father, but that was when I was much younger. I was only six years old. I hardly remember him, to be honest. There’s just flashes and sometimes dreams I have. Mother says he was a good man but she won’t discuss him much.’

She proceeded to tell me several members of her family had left her as she grew up, including a couple of cousins she’d grown quite close to.

‘My family owns lots of businesses overseas. It means there’s always a number of relatives traveling around and moving to different places, and if they have kids, they usually come with them. Our family is quite extensive.’

‘Once in a while they come back to visit us here and I feel like they’ve become entirely different people. They’re happier, somehow. And I wonder – if maybe I’d be happier out there exploring the world instead of stuck here.’

Eventually I gathered the courage to ask her a couple things which had been nagging me ever since I’d read Anne’s blog.

‘Two old women who live next door started lecturing me about how your family are a bunch of closet satanists. They were quite serious about it.’

She chuckled. Seeing she wasn’t offended, I cautiously pressed further.

‘It seems like some people in Avalon believe crazy things about the Volkovs. Do you have any idea why there are so many uh, conspiracy theories surrounding your family?’

‘I had a feeling you were going to ask me this at some point.’ She adjusted herself on the picnic rug I’d brought. ‘So what’s the craziest thing you’ve heard?’ She inquired with an amused smile. ‘I’m curious.’

‘Uh-’

‘Don’t worry, I won’t get offended. I promise.’ She rested her chin on her palm, watching me expectantly.

‘She suggested people in your family were… Sacrificing individuals during pagan rituals. She claimed that was behind some of the disappearances.’

She laughed loudly. ‘I hope you don’t believe the stories she told you, do you?’

I smiled. ‘I know you wouldn’t be involved in anything like that. Why would she even claim such a thing though? Why are there so many crazy rumors floating around about your family?’

A few moments of silence followed. Then she let out a long breath.

‘Well, some of the rumors have been started by someone in our family to try and make trouble for the rest of us, or to draw attention away from real scandals – or just for fun. Also, there are lots of people who hold grudges against our family for business, romantic and other reasons.

We do have some dirty secrets,’ she admitted. ‘There are things you definitely wouldn’t like to learn about my family. But all the crazier stuff is bullshit. We’re not evil people. We’re not witches, or satanists, or whatever else they’re calling us.’

‘And why are people here so superstitious?’ I pushed. ‘I mean, not just about your family. Even the non religious types tie shield knots on their doors and make protective gestures at the thirteenth of each month. I don’t get it.’

Desdemona bit her lip. ‘Some people do those things to comfort themselves. If it makes them feel better, does it hurt?’

’Do you believe in the supernatural?’ I asked.

She considered my question.

‘Sometimes things happen in Avalon which no one can explain. It’s for the best that they remain unexplained.’

She looked away. ‘I don’t know, honestly. It’s easier not to. But there are too many things people see – which I myself have seen – which defy rational explanation. Faceless men gliding through the trees. Tales of the ghosts of the people who have disappeared watching those still living, inviting them to go inside the forest to some special hidden place, or to return to their lost loved ones.

There are rules in this little town of ours. Rules which have been here since long before we were here. Like you don’t disrespect the Celtic sites. And you don’t stay out too long after dark in the forest.’ She chuckled. ‘You definitely don’t try supernatural rituals you know nothing about, like some visitors like to do after they come here and hear about the legends.’

A shiver ran down my spine at her words.

She saw my expression and said with emphasis, ‘my family isn’t involved with the supernatural. People have a way of linking them together with the creepy stuff because they don’t like us.’

‘Okay,’ I said. ‘I didn’t believe in it, by the way. I was just uh, curious.’

She relaxed, massaging her cheeks with her hands. ‘Yeah well, make sure you discuss anything occult-like in the Volkovs’ presence. They will not like that.’

After we finished lunch, Desdemona grew restless. She bounded up and jogged toward the far end of the clearing where I could pick out the beginnings of a trail leading further into the forest.

She gestured at me to follow her. As I pulled myself up she was already impatient to get going. We set off walking. Desdemona accelerated into a jog and then a sprint, challenging me to keep up with her.

We raced each other through the forest. Running with her was exhilarating. Desdemona’s playful demeanor was infectious; I couldn’t be around her without sharing in her excitement.

I tried my best to keep up with her. I wanted to get her to look at me the way she did when we sparred together after school. I wanted to prove to her that I could stay by her side no matter how fast she ran.

In the end, she still outran me and needed to come jogging back to find me. She guided me a little further along a vibrant forest trail to a huge oak tree to show me the detailed outline of a face which had been carved out into the wood.

‘I used to go out exploring all the time when I was a kid,’ Desdemona commented as we admired it. ‘I discovered lots of beautiful little places hidden around these mountains. I imagined myself as an explorer like Marco Polo, or one of the Austrian explorers my mom told me about.’

She laughed a bit. ‘I made up names and stories for each place and had imaginary adventures there.’

‘Didn’t you ever get lost?’ I asked.

She frowned. ‘I have a kind of instinct telling me where I need to go. It’s almost like the forest is guiding me? In a strange kind of way.’ She looked around her at the pine trees and sucked in a breath, closing her eyes for a moment.

I was about to poke a little fun at her. Then I realized how serious she was. She stood there for a couple of moments with this blissful expression which left me wishing I could feel whatever she was experiencing.

We collapsed together onto the sun warmed grass back in the meadow. Desdemona stared up at the sky for a bit, and then she started talking. She first spoke hesitantly, but more comfortably as time passed.

‘I hate seeing them fight all the time. My family, I mean. Do you know how many times I’ve been stuck sitting in a room full of people who secretly despise one another? And I have to listen to them insert snide remarks and veiled threats into everything they say.’

She kicked a couple of pebbles down the hill we sat on into a bubbling stream near the trees, and fiddled with a couple strands of her long, curly hair.

I watched her silently. She didn’t seem to mind.

‘Sometimes I fantasize about moving out of this town with someone and starting my own little family. Someplace else. Perhaps somewhere urban like somewhere you grew up. Or in the countryside. I’m not sure.’

‘I’ve never really thought about starting a family,’ I admitted. ‘I can hardly imagine it. But yeah. That sounds kind of nice.’

‘I wish I could,’ she clarified.

I sat up. ‘Des, don’t let your family responsibilities dictate the rest of your life. You should follow your own dreams.’

She wriggled her toes back and forth against the grass and stared up into the sky.

‘I wish it were so simple,’ she commented softly. ‘But… I have certain duties to my family which I must fulfill.’ She looked at me seriously. ‘Even if I don’t want to.’

‘You mean you don’t have a choice?’ I asked.

She slowly shook her head. ‘Not really.’

I wish I could say I figured out what Desdemona meant. When I pressed for more details, she claimed it was a private matter.

I wanted to know more but I could tell it would be pressing her too far. So I chose to drop it, hoping I could bring the subject up again later.

She looked a bit sad. I tried to cheer her up by telling her some stories of my trips away to Scandinavia and Norway, which she quickly grew invested in.

Our conversation lasted another hour. It was so easy and natural with her. I didn’t have to act a certain way to get her to like me.

She moved closer to lay her head on my shoulder as we sat watching the sunset together. I felt her soft breathing tune in with my own.

For a while I wished the moment between us wouldn’t have to end. I wished it would last forever like the fairytale I felt as if we were living in.

Eventually, she pulled away slightly.

‘I should get back,’ she said with some reluctance. ‘We need to get back to town. It’s never a good idea to stay out in the forest after dark.’

Desdemona had no trouble finding her way back. We returned to just about the exact same place we’d started our journey that morning.

From there we awkwardly exchanged goodbyes. She stopped a few paces away and gave me a long look before turning away. It made me want things from her which I felt guilty thinking about. Then she headed off with her hands in her pockets and her head covered up with a dark beanie.

I stared after her in longing. I missed her already.

Over the next couple months, things were pretty great between us. I joined a literature club with Desdemona, Enid, and a couple of their friends. I even managed to persuade Ronnie to join up; I thought it would do him some good, since he struggled a fair bit in English. Every week on Thursdays we would meet during lunch in one of the art rooms, with permission from a kindly teacher. Enid brought cupcakes or pastries her mother baked for us, which were always delicious. These after school sessions turned into something I really looked forward to.

As part of participating in the little events I’d persuaded Desdemona to read Lord of the Rings. In return, she’d had me read a selection of Robert Frost and John Donne poems so she could quiz me about them. I wish I could say I could offer some meaningful insight into these literary works, but most of what I did end up telling her was from online essays I read after I tried to puzzle out the poems themselves.

Meanwhile, I continued to read through Anne’s blog posts. I couldn’t help but wonder how much Desdemona knew regarding the secrets of her family which she wasn’t telling me.

Chapter 7

After our last little adventure into the woods, Desdemona informed me about an upcoming masquerade ball being run by her family.  The masquerade was to be a charity event attended by lots of rich and powerful people, hosted at the Volkov family mansion. Desdemona had decided it was time to make our relationship official to her family.

‘I’ve been putting off introducing you to them,’ she admitted. ‘But I’ve also been thinking about what you said earlier. About not allowing them to control my life. Plus, Dionysia is always going out with whoever the hell she wants, irrespective of mother’s approval. So I decided I’m going to make a statement – by going there with you.’

‘Are you sure?’ I asked. ‘I’d love to go with you, but I don’t want to cause any issues between you and your family.’

‘Yes,’ she said quickly. ‘I need to show them I’m strong and I can stand up for myself, Like everyone else does. Otherwise they’ll never stop treating me like a child.’

She took my arm. ‘I really do want you to come. If you’re okay with it, of course.’

‘Of course I’ll go,’ I assured her.

‘Oh, but you have to ask me,’ she added. ‘It’s traditional that way.’

‘Um, will you go out with me to the masquerade?’ I asked. I tried to sound kind of cute about it.

She giggled and clapped her hands together.

‘Why, yes I will! I’d love to go with you, Tristrian.’

‘Okay then. I very much look forward to it.’

I picked her hand up to kiss it. Desdemona acted suitably charmed and flattered, covering her mouth in mock surprise. Then she composed herself.

‘I’ll send you the details,’ she told me. ‘I’m going to have to get you a special letter of invitation. You’ll need it to get past the manor gates and inside.’

I ended up being driven part of the way by my uncle, who offered me a ride. He was under the pretense I was going on a date with someone I’d made up in the moment. He was happy to see me back to my ‘normal self’ again.

I decided to ask him about his falling out with my father over the mining operation. He told me a story similar to what Anne wrote on her blog. My uncle and John had a disagreement over whether they should continue running it.

He assured me their fight wasn’t a big deal. He allowed that he should have listened to my father, and felt bad for not doing so when he had the opportunity.

I wasn’t surprised by what he told me. I’d heard most of it from him already. Emily claimed he was involved in John’s death but as of yet had refused to explain how.

I’d hoped I might be able to figure out if he was hiding anything. He sounded perfectly sincere, but everything he said was short and rehearsed, too.

I asked to be dropped off near the edge of Avalon and walked the rest of the way through the town outskirts; a lightly wooded and hilly area interspersed with rugged looking buildings. The mansion stood just beyond the town, at the beginnings of a wide, open valley separating a pair of lush mountains.

A guard stopped me at the brick gates. He carefully inspected my ticket, then nodded curtly and extended his arm out in a gracious motion. Moments later, the gates began to swing open.

My first impressions pertained to the manor garden. It included a pair of elegant fountains, each carved up in the shape of tall and slender, robed women I recognized as goddesses from Greek mythology. The water which sprouted out of them in all directions was lit up from the fountain’s amber purple lights.

The yard rose up on a hill with the house at its center. The hill was itself separated into a series of immaculate gardens decorated with additional statues, manicured trees, and carefully carved out hedges. The sections of greenery were interspersed with neat pathways lined by vibrantly coloured masses of roses, tulips, lotuses, carnations, and other flowers. The mansion itself loomed on top of the gardens, lit up with gentle turquoise lights.

I was startled by another security guard as I was nearing the house. He examined my ticket with an unimpressed expression for what felt like an excessive amount of time.

Then Desdemona breezed out of the open doors to the mansion. She wore a shoulderless sweeping, dark blue dress which matched the color of her eyes with a billowing waist. The dress was complimented by a long chain linked silver necklace with a miniature, blood colored pentagram hanging from it which sat just over her heart. Her hair was long, tangled and curly, perfectly done yet also slightly tousled.

She waved the security guard away. He gave a respectful nod to her before taking a couple of steps backwards, melding into the shadows.

‘Wow,’ I said. In front of her, I felt inadequate in every way possible, doubly so as I noticed Desdemona looking me up and down.

‘This house – it looks like something out of a fairytale,’ I added. ‘You do too.’

She appeared amused, glancing down at herself.

‘I mean, you’re beautiful,’ I clarified quickly, fearing I’d offended her. ‘You’re just stunning.’ Desdemona blushed. ‘I kind of hate the dress,’ she stammered. ‘My mom chose it for me. I didn’t have much of a say in the issue. It’s just so tight and kind of heavy.’

She pushed her hair back behind one ear. ‘I’m glad you like it. If that’s so then it was worth wearing tonight.’

Desdemona had a gift for me. She offered it before we went inside, stopping me gently with one hand on my chest and moving to stand between me and the door.

From within one of her sleeves she pulled out an elegant switchblade engraved with her family initials in an elegant, gothic script.

‘I think you should have this,’ she said.

I eyed it uneasily. ‘That’s kind of a strange gift, Desdemona.’

Her mouth twisted up on one side. ‘I know. There are quite a few of them in the family. This one belonged to Edward. He was a noble man.’

She added, ‘I have to pay you back for the gift you gave me. Remember?’

On one of our previous dates I’d gifted her a pair of silver earrings shaped into elegant knots. It was something I’d found in my uncle’s house while cleaning out the attic with him. Ian said it was Celtic in origin and was supposed to mean something about protection. He supposed it was left there by some distant family member.

I asked Ian if I could keep it and since he didn’t seem to mind, I decided to give it to Desdemona.

She gently pushed the knife into my hand and closed my fingers around it, gazing into me with unexpected intensity.

‘Please, will you take it?’

It was impossible for me to refuse her when she looked at me with those eyes she had. I accepted the knife. Emily’s warnings about the Volkovs entered uninvited into my thoughts.

Was I prepared for what I was walking into?

As I was folding the knife away and sliding it into my pocket, Desdemona started fiddling with my suit, adjusting the tie this way and that and then smoothing out the collar repeatedly.

I gently pushed her away. ‘Come on, let’s go,’ I said in a low voice. ‘It can’t be that bad, right?’

She bit her lip, wringing her hands out, and then sighed. She nodded, and a touch of resolve entered her eyes. ‘Yes, let’s do this.’

The house was as splendid as the gardens, if not more. Walking in, I found myself surrounded by a grand, circular foyer lit up in a warm yellow glow from multiple hanging chandeliers. The foyer had a gothic design with an arching ceiling from which sweeping, dark curtains hung over the windows.

Mingling about the room was at least a hundred people standing together in small groups. Their soft chatter and laughter was a muted envelope of sound around me.

A smaller number of couples danced together in a central area, in tune with the Sous le Ciel de Paris, playing from speakers I couldn’t identify.

Desdemona linked her arm into mine. As we began to move forward, several guests paused to stare at us curiously, their chatter dying away.

‘Don’t look at them,’ Desdemona murmured, her breath warm against my ear. ‘Act like they’re not important. It’s what I do whenever we have visitors.’

The masquerade was like nothing I’d ever seen before. The masks and outfits varied in their degree of eccentricity. Every suit and dress in the room and even some of the masks looked to be very expensive. I saw dresses made out of complex, glittering patterns and dresses that billowed out with ruby sequins. One middle aged woman wore a deep purple dress with a long, dipping neckline. I spotted masks of owls, cats, and monkeys, along with other more exotic creatures.

I couldn’t stop looking around the room. Not once in my life had I seen such a display of splendor and degredance.

A couple minutes of awkward mingling proceeded. Desdemona left to get us both a drink. As she did I waited by idly, trying not to fidget and doing my best to try to imitate the air of casual indifference Desdemona adopted as she returned inside. I didn’t feel like I managed it very well.

‘Hello handsome.’

The voice made me jump a little.

It was Dionysia; Eldid and Desdemona’s sister. She was wearing a dress similar to the one Desdemona wore, though hers was a darker shade of red, matching her blood red, black tinged lipstick. Her dress was even more lacy and complex. Dionysia completed her look with a feline mask with pointed ears and long, curved slits for eyes.

‘Aren’t you going to ask me out for a dance?’ She asked innocently.

‘Uh -’

I wanted to refuse her, but how did you refuse someone like Dionysia?

She took my hand before I could answer, stepped back and practically yanked me onto the dance floor.

‘You know, you’re really quite fascinating,’ she purred as she guided me through the sea of gliding figures. ‘What is it exactly that has my little sister so attached to you, hmm?’

Her examination of me concluded with a curious and searching stare.

‘You’ve got me perplexed.’

‘I’m nothing special,’ I said. ‘Maybe she was just looking for someone normal?’

‘Normal,’ she repeated. ‘Yes, that would be like her wouldn’t it?’

She circled around me, taking my hand along with her. ‘Well, at the very least you’re a decent dancer.’

We danced for a couple of minutes. Dionysia lost interest in me soon enough, and seeing her gaze flitting elsewhere, I went to part myself from her.

Dionysia resisted, her attention returning to me fully. She tugged me in closer with one hand. She smelled like roses and lavender, and something sharper which I couldn’t identify.

‘How innocent you are,’ she murmured. ‘You’re like a little lamb caught up in a sleepy pack of lions. If only you knew -’

Desdemona stepped up to us, putting her hand on her sister’s shoulder. She was glaring daggers at Dionysia.

After a moment Dionysia let me go. She looked disappointed. Then she suddenly laughed like I’d just made a joke.

Desdemona practically snatched me away from her.

Dionysia didn’t seem to mind. She waved and then melted back into the crowd, leaving Desdemona to wrap her arms around my neck and pull herself close to me.

‘I’m sorry I took so long. I got caught up with a businessman Esther wanted to show me off to.’

‘It’s alright,’ I assured her. I felt somewhat embarrassed. Desdemona had caught the pair of us in what had appeared to be an intimate moment.

Desdemona glanced around her nervously as we moved slowly around the room, drifting alongside the others.

A melodic rendition of Dark Eyes began playing. Desdemona fell into step with the music effortlessly.

‘I can’t leave you alone for a moment, can I?’ She murmured into my ear with a chuckle.

A couple minutes later we witnessed the graceful entrance of Esther. The scene of her descending the stairs was so well rehearsed I thought it might have been practiced. She held a glass of wine delicately in one hand, the other trailing behind her across the wooden handrail. Her hair was prepared even more elaborately than Desdemona’s had been. Lavender coloured jewels hung from her ears. Her expression was serene, almost bored.

Behind her trailed both Eldid and Dionysia, the latter of whom had seemingly vanished from the opposite side of the ballroom. Eldid’s navy blue coat and white suit made him look uncharacteristically solemn, and his face matched this expression.

Esther didn’t notice me until she spotted Desdemona, who met her surprised gaze with a challenging stare.

After a couple seconds she resumed moving down the stairs, pausing to allow one man ascending past her to kiss her hand delicately.

‘Well, that was something of an entrance,’ I murmured. Desdemona laughed and pulled me a little closer to say softly, ‘she does like to make a scene. Always obsessed with being the most beautiful person in the room, though she’ll never admit to the fact.’

Over the course of the night, I was introduced to a couple notable family members.

First there was Nailah. I saw her outside of school from time to time. She’d been amicable enough with me, though never quite friendly.

She noticed us from her place beside the wine fountain and wandered over.

She looked between Desdemona and me curiously. ‘Hi, Tristrian. I didn’t expect to see you here.’

‘How did your application to Samara Uni go?’ Desdemona asked brightly.

‘Good. I think,’ Nailah answered. ‘I haven’t received word back yet.’

‘Nailah wants to become a doctor someday,’ Desdemona explained when she caught my uncomprehending look. ‘She’s looking at doing a course in oncology.’

I looked at Nailah.

‘Some time, I hope,’ she admitted. ‘Oncology – it was something one of my teachers talked to me about a couple years ago, and it’s stuck with me since then.’

We talked for a little while. Desdemona let on that Nailah was one of the less popular members of the Volkov family. She had been ever since a big scandal involving her mother decades ago.

I felt kind of bad for her. Nailah joked she felt like the other Volkovs secretly hated her. Being so alone and outcast by the rest of them must have been hard, even if she was raised in luxurious wealth.

What few words she offered to me that night were some of the only kind ones I received.

‘I like the look of the two of you together,’ she said. ‘You’re the only ones here who aren’t putting on a show.’

Desdemona seemed displeased by the comment. She admitted later, ‘I was trying to come off as confident – perhaps a little on the arrogant side. I suppose I still need to work on my act.’

‘Roman,’ she said, pointing to a noble looking man talking out of the edge of his mouth to an older woman beside him.

‘He mostly keeps to himself, more than any of the other Volkovs. No one trusts him. No one can figure out what he’s planning. He’s easy going, though. So I prefer him over my other uncles.’

I caught Desdemona as she spun around and stepped gracefully back into me. Thank god one of Desdemona’s friends had insisted on giving me a couple brief dancing lessons in preparation for the event. As it turned out, I’d really needed them.

She glanced to her right suddenly and her face paled.

‘And… That’s Godfrey. Roman’s son. He’s messed up, even by our family’s standards.’

I followed her gaze quickly and caught a glimpse of someone else raising his glass to us through all the crowd.

‘Godfrey makes me look positively cordial by comparison,’ Eldid commented, patting me on the arm. He’d come up out of nowhere from the masses of people.

‘The other’s reaction to your entrance was quite something,’ Eldid told her. He grinned.  ‘I’ll give it to you, sweet sister, you have a way of bringing out the most unhinged in our family. More even than sweet Godfrey does.’

‘What was Eldid talking about?’ I asked Desdemona, once he was out of earshot.

‘He’s right about Godfrey,’ she said reluctantly. ‘He’s reputed as a sadist. And a masochist. And that’s on top of the rumors floating around of him having multiple girlfriends who he keeps wrapped around his finger. It’s not like it is with Eldid though, these girls are much younger than him. Too young.’

‘Esther told me he hurts stray animals he finds. By hurt I mean skinning them and creating taxidermy displays with their remains. He’s gotten better at hiding his impulses over the years, but he hasn’t changed much.’

She swallowed back more words. ‘His father won’t like me sharing all this. It’s supposed to be a secret. I’ve got to be more careful about what I say.’

It wouldn’t be the last time that night Desdemona discussed members of her family with me. Words slipped out of her mouth every now and again as her eyes drifted across the sea of masked people drifting back and forth around us. Desdemona couldn’t help but gossip, no matter what she said.

After a while I caught on to how flustered Desdemona was getting from frequent and seemingly unending interactions with her family and their elitist friends. I suggested we sneak outside for some fresh air. She gladly agreed and guided me out the front door through to a secluded space in the garden near a miniature fish pond. She paused to give a light pat to a large dog padding past us as it glanced back our way.

Desdemona relaxed visibly once we were alone. I did too. After a couple minutes I recalled something I’d been wanting to talk to her about.

‘That poem you shared with me last week. I was thinking about it,’ I said.

‘Huh? Oh. Yeah. I don’t like it,’ she admitted. ‘I feel like it was incomplete – in need of another draft at least.’

I took a nervous breath. ‘Yeah. Maybe. You always seem a little rushed when you write. It’s like there’s this inexplicable urgency in your poems. They could really benefit if you focused on one for a while and didn’t jump from one to another before they’re completed. It’s a shame because you’ve got so much talent. I mean, this one was kind of incredible. I couldn’t stop thinking about it, what it meant. I would love for you to finish it.’

I shrugged. ‘Anyway, I just wanted to say you don’t put enough faith in your work.’

Desdemona looked up at me. Her eyes were glowing.

‘I’m happy you liked it. I – um, I wrote it for you. Kind of. At least I was thinking about you when I wrote it.’

I grinned. ‘Really? Huh. I’ll have to write one about you then.’

‘I look forward to reading it,’ she said. She smiled back, but her eyes were uncharacteristically serious.

It was true that Desdemona was a very talented artist, and though her talent was raw and unrefined, that made it all the more beautiful.

I had begun to wonder if Desdemona could be truly bad at anything. That was what I was thinking about when she spoke up suddenly. ‘You shouldn’t be this into me.’

My head shot up in surprise. ‘What do you mean?’

She took a deep breath. ‘I’m not the perfect, beautiful girl I look like. I have a – darkness inside of me.’

I had to suppress a little laugh at that.

‘I know it sounds silly to say,’ Desdemona continued. ‘But it’s true.’

I smiled slowly. ‘I’m not so perfect, either,’ I said. ‘I have a dark side, too. Darker than most people. There are things I’ve done in my past – after my mother passed away – which I’m definitely not proud of.’

She sighed and turned around, leaning over a garden bench to stare at the roses dappling the ground around us. Her eyes passed over the glistening surface of the moonlit pond.

‘Everyone has a dark side, Desdemona,’ I put in. ‘The part that really matters is if we let it define us.’

She straightened and shook her hands out in frustration. ‘It’s easy to say you don’t care when you don’t know what it is I’m not telling you.’

‘There’s nothing you could tell me about you that would make me feel differently,’ I declared.

She shifted her feet, pausing to prop her head on one hand and then pulling it away. She was full of restless energy.

‘I’m scared I’m going to hurt you, Tristrian! I don’t know when, or how, but I know I will.’

I stepped toward her instinctively. ‘Honestly? I don’t care. Des, tell me to stay away from you and I’ll leave you alone. But I know you don’t want that. And neither do I.’

She exhaled. ‘Damn it!’

Desdemona turned around. She took a couple steps forward, took my face in her hands, and kissed me on the mouth.

I stood there frozen until Desdemona leaned up and wrapped her hands around my neck, pressing herself up into me, invading my personal space.

It was cold out in the garden. Desdemona was warm, almost hot. I ran my hands through her hair the way I’d wanted to do since I met her. I caressed the sweaty bare skin of her neck and shoulders.

I’ve kissed girls before. This was different. I felt like I was kissing someone for the first time again.

When she pulled away, she was breathing hard. We both were.

She licked her lips. I was half tempted to lean down and kiss her again, but she spoke up quickly.

‘We should probably get back inside,’ she said. She said it with a kind of reluctance which suggested exactly what she would rather be doing. I nudged her chin up and pressed my mouth against hers instead.

With little resistance, she melted into my embrace and kissed me deeper.

The night and then the whole world melted away until it was just the two of us. And for a while, nothing else mattered.

The next family member Desdemona wanted me to know about arrived shortly after we returned inside.

His entrance was grandiose. The doors were pushed wide open as he swept through them. He strode through the crowd, hardly waiting for them to part for him as he moved.

The newcomer made his way through the room with a kind of snakelike grace. He ignored the other patrons, save for a couple with whom he gave a courteous nod to. Everyone, I noticed, stepped quickly out of his way as he passed them, and no one except for Esther was willing to look directly into his eyes.

She explained, ‘he’s the one I told you about, remember? Normann – unpredictable and unhinged.’ She lowered her voice further and practically whispered, ‘He’s also completely full of himself.’

His hair was dirty blonde, long and slightly tangled. In contrast, his suit was immaculate and untarnished.

Desdemona’s description was as accurate of him as hers had been for the rest of them. He was something beyond creepy. He was like a predator. He treated everyone around him as either a potential threat or as prey.

He was the one Anne wrote about, I remembered. He was the one supposedly connected to my father’s death.

‘He has a bit of a reputation,’ Desdemona continued. ‘About fifty years ago, he and Esther got into a spat over some territory. See, Normann owns pretty much all the businesses and some of the apartments in one section of town  – the Italian Plaza, and Esther and her husband another – the old suburb around Rosenheim. These two locations are connected by the river running through Avalon.’

She continued with her explanation, oblivious to the way I was looking at Normann. ‘In between these areas a young man from and his ailing mother came across some money from an unexpected inheritance. With this money he started up a successful French Pâtisserie which everyone quickly fell in love with.

Esther and Normann noticed the rapid growth of this business. It was stealing a good portion of the customers from nearby restaurants like Celine’s and J’adore Les Pâtisseries in the Italian Plaza.

They both desired a stake in the business. Normann befriended the man – Marcel – while Esther tried to buy him out.

Following that there was a fair bit of family infighting and a couple of legal disputes. At the end of it Esther came out on top, securing rights over the restaurant. She’d won, or so she thought.’

‘The night when she went to the restaurant to celebrate her victory, she found it burned and in complete ruin. Normann hardly cared that Esther blamed him for the event. It was deemed an accidental fire by police and she could never actually tie it to him.

‘My mother says told her later, if I can’t have Petites Gourmandises, no one can. I’d see it burn to the ground before I let you lay your hands on it.’

‘Normann bought back what remained of the land and started working on turning it into a new Pâtisserie, which he elected the still loyal Marcel as the new owner of.

It’s doing better than ever, or so I’ve heard. Marcel is something of a prodigy of Normann’s so that’s no surprise.’

‘Since then he’s agreed to a kind of truce with Esther. She doesn’t mess with him or his businesses, and he leaves her alone – mostly. Though he’s made a point of testing her limits every now and again. Through manipulation and intimidation he’s managed to expand his little empire of businesses further and further into her territory.

She hates what he’s doing. But she doesn’t want to directly challenge him because she knows the cost of a war with him.’

She sighed. ‘Her patience wears thin. I’m concerned she’s going to do something stupid to provoke him soon.’

Something else occurred to me.

‘You said thirty years ago? How old is he?’ He looked to be about thirty. Even taking into account his ageless appearance, I couldn’t imagine him being anywhere near sixty, and he’d have to be a fair bit older, judging by Desdemona’s story.

Desdemona hesitated.

‘I, uh, I meant fifteen,’ she said quickly, laughing. ‘Fifteen years ago, that stuff happened.’

‘Right,’ I said. ‘Fifteen years makes more sense.’

Normann moved off to the shadows on the other side of the ballroom along with a tall, Russian man. He spent most of the following hour engaging with him and some other people.

He was quite friendly, I observed. Though he seemed to scare away as many people as he drew over to him.

A little over an hour following his arrival he abruptly left. Desdemona looked relieved. I could have sworn as I observed them that some of the people he’d been talking to did, too.

‘Don’t ever do anything to anger or offend him,’ she said suddenly, grabbing my arm, her fingers digging into me. ‘He’s the most dangerous out of all of us.’

‘You really weren’t joking when you said your family was full of crazy people, huh? Bloody hell,’ I said uncomfortably.

She gave me a forced smile. ‘You don’t know the half of it yet.’

The most memorable moment of the night came with the entrance of the highest ranking member of the family. The one everyone else was awaiting the appearance of. The one everyone, even Esther and Normann, bowed down to. The Patriarch.

The man was tall and imposing – even for a Volkov. I guessed his age to be somewhere between sixty and eighty five.

‘Leofric. The current family patriarch. My grandfather,’ Desdemona whispered out of the side of her mouth.  ‘He’s been the leader of this family and effectively the whole town for as long as I can remember.’

She registered my lack of comprehension and explained further.

‘The patriarch – or matriarch, is a de facto ruler for all of us. They approve of all marriages within the family and have a stake in every business the family owns. He has the final say in just about anything important. His allegiance is to no one in particular and every couple of years he acts like he has a new favorite among his children.’

‘The position has been a tradition for a very long time -’

She shut up abruptly as the patriarch himself cleared his throat and began to speak.

‘First, I wish to take a moment to honor Edward. It has been a year since his passing, and his absence hangs heavy in this room. I am sure we all miss him. Tonight’s charity ball for the Stavropol Children’s hospital is a humble offering in his memory.’

Edward, as Desdemona later explained to me, was Nailah’s father who’d died in a mysterious and somewhat suspicious accident a couple of years ago.

‘He didn’t deserve what happened to him,’ she said, somewhat mournfully. ‘He was a good man. And always very kind to me.’ She paused. ‘Sometimes he felt like the father I never had.’

The patriarch bowed his head briefly, massaging the spherical frame of an overlooking wall post.

When he looked back up, his face was stern and decided. ‘More than a millenia ago my ancestors laid the foundations of this town. We have since transformed it into something of an empire. I am very proud of all of what we have built here.’ He waved his hands in the air in a single, grand gesture.

‘Now… I sense a new era coming. Our family faces a great destiny, one which could be our salvation or our destruction. Unfortunately, I do not believe I myself will not be there to witness it.’

He settled his hand, which had closed into a fist, on top of the overlook. ‘I know what all of you have been wondering and whispering about. Yes, I have chosen my successor,’ he announced.

The whole room held their breath. I looked at Desdemona and noticed she was positively stricken. It was clear people were waiting for him to elaborate, but the man didn’t deliver. He simply smiled.

‘Thank you, all of you. You will receive word of my choice soon enough. I still have some final preparations to make.’

He steepled his hands together and stepped back. After a couple moments the music resumed, the chatter following after a brief pause, noticeably louder and more animated than before.

‘He’s talking about his replacement,’ was what Desdemona would say on the matter. ‘One of his children will ultimately inherit his power and become the new ruler of the family. Everyone’s wondering who he’s chosen. Particularly his children.’

The Patriarch left soon after, and with him the excitement died down. I sensed an air of disappointment in the room. Desdemona told me Esther was pissed, though I couldn’t tell from her calm expression.

The night wore on, and from then on it remained mostly uneventful. Even beside Desdemona I began to feel increasingly out of place, and though I managed to hold some brief conversations with Esther and one or two of the rich patrons I recognized from around town, it seemed like everyone in the room regarded me with an aura of either boredom or bemusement.

They think I’m beneath them, I thought. And perhaps I was.

We snuck a kiss in at the end of the night but Desdemona pulled away quickly, glancing around self consciously. She guided me to the door and seemed a little relieved when we stepped outside into the night to say goodbye.

‘I’m glad you came,’ she told me. ‘And I had a good time tonight.’

‘Now we don’t have to hide our relationship anymore?’ I asked her, hopefully.

She hugged me. ‘Yes, yes. We’re a couple. Officially!’

Chapter 8

After the kiss and the unforgettable night at the Volkov manor, things seemed like they were going to be perfect between us. And I’d say they were perfect. For about a month.

Then over the course of two weeks Desdemona became distant and withdrawn, to the extent where I felt sure she was avoiding me. Enid and Desdemona’s other friends promised it was nothing to worry about, but I wasn’t convinced.

Desdemona texted me to meet her for a walk by the river one night, something we’d grown fond of doing together. We set off along a lamplit pathway to one side of it. You could see some of the most beautiful houses and restaurants of the Italian Plaza lining the riverbank opposite us.

We must have gone on walking together for twenty minutes in silence before she said more than a few words. It was enough time to let me know something was up. She didn’t speak up until we’d reached where the footpath ended at the beginning of a residential road.

She finally told me in a small voice, ‘I wanted to enjoy one last walk together.’

‘What do you mean?’

‘I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to keep seeing each other.’ She spoke the words so bluntly.

‘What?’

She repeated the statement. ‘This is me breaking up with you.’ She talked as if in a rush to get the words out.

‘What the hell happened?’ It was all I could think of to ask.

She glanced away.

‘I just can’t do this,’ she repeated.

I bit back a sharp retort. ‘You at least owe it to me to say why.’

‘It’s complicated. I mean, it’s a lot of things.’

She looked at me, finally. ‘Tristrian? You deserve someone better. I’d be selfish to keep you to myself. I knew it was going to end badly for you.’

‘Come on. You don’t really want this,’ I said. ‘ Did Esther convince you to break off things between us?’

‘You don’t know what I want.’ She’d raised her voice. ‘You think you know me. You don’t!’

Desdemona reached out and brushed back my hair with the side of one hand.

‘I’ll always be glad for the time we spent together. And I’m sorry. That’s what I came here to say.’

‘Wait -’

She spun around and began walking. Her steps sped up the further she moved away.

The look she gave me when I went to pursue her cut me off short.

I called her a while later, more than once. She didn’t respond. I still refused to believe what she said. Emily was the first person I looked to for support. Our mutual animosity meant little at the moment, stricken as I was by what happened.

She claimed the breakup was for the better.

‘I know you don’t like hearing this. But it’s what I expected her to do to you.’

‘Is this your fault?’ I demanded. ‘Did you talk her into it?’

‘No Tristrian, I haven’t spoken a word to her. I wanted you to figure out for yourself that she’s wrong for you.’ Pointedly she added, ‘if I wanted to push her away from you I would have told her about what you did to Skye.’

She took advantage of the uncomfortable silence to prod further. ‘How were you planning to explain that her uncle was involved in our father’s death? Or how I’ve been digging into the private lives of her family and you kept it a secret from her?’

I opened my mouth, then closed it again.

‘I’m sorry,’ she continued. ‘Look, maybe she made the choice she did to protect you?’

She sounded relieved, I realized.

I couldn’t listen to her anymore. I hung up with a sigh before I said anything I’d regret.

It was kind of awkward hanging out with Desdemona’s friends while we were on such terms with one another. We did come to a quiet agreement to not fight, though. I didn’t want to lose her from my life completely so I did her best to respect her decision, as much as I hated it.

I only wished I knew the real reason why she did it. Maybe then I could try to fix things between us.

Hardly three weeks passed since our breakup and there was another prestigious event connected to the Volkov family everyone was talking about. This time, it wasn’t at the Volkov mansion. The word was Eldid had gotten permission from his parents to rent out a holiday home owned by his father for a party celebrating his eighteenth birthday. The last thing I’d ever expected was to be invited – and it wasn’t by Desdemona.

‘Tristrian!’ A familiar spoke up. Dionysia had appeared seemingly out of nowhere to touch my shoulder, making me jump. ‘I have an offer for you. I’d like for you to accompany me to Eldid’s birthday party. Would that be acceptable?’

Dionysia had become uncharacteristically friendly during the past weeks. Her sudden interest in me was inexplicable. I asked her about it directly a couple days before and she was evasive.

I could only theorize that she, for whatever reason, was trying to mess with her sister.

At first, I’d rejected her offer. But Desdemona seemed to be getting along just fine with her life while I simply couldn’t. She was even talking to other guys in a suspiciously flirtatious manner.

In the midst of my frustration I changed my mind abruptly and agreed to go with her.

‘Great,’ she said with a wide smile. ‘I’ll send you the address – wait – I don’t have your phone number. Here’s mine.’

She’d handed me her number written in an impeccable handwriting on a torn off piece of one of her notebooks, her hand lingering on mine for a moment before she pulled away.

I knew all too well what I was doing was wrong. This was a screw you thrown right in Desdemona’s face.

But any attention at all would have to be better than the casual indifference she was giving me at the moment. Besides, I didn’t hate the idea of pissing off Eldid by going out with his sister. Particularly on his birthday.

The Volkovs second home was an expansive, modern looking building with a large outdoor garden and pool. Though it didn’t compare to the main mansion, it was nonetheless impressive.

I wasn’t in much of a mood to appreciate the lavish decorations or the beautiful girls waving around roman candles after I spotted Desdemona talking to a couple other guys I remembered her being flirty with earlier. That left me in a sour mood.

Dionysia drank. A lot. She made me drink with her. I wasn’t much of a drinker – at least, I hadn’t been in a while, but I made the night with her an exception.

When Desdemona took notice of me cuddling up with Dionysia on the couch later on she’d given me a look which made me think she was never going to speak to me again. Soon after I watched as she stormed out of the party house.

I doubled down in my drinking. I talked and laughed with people I hardly knew, mostly Dionysia’s friends who’d taken a superficial interest in me.

Later into the night Dionysia whispered to me that she and some others were going to go on a walk through the forest to a secluded spot in the woods. She promised it was very pretty and I’d love it.

I was easy enough to talk into coming, and found myself trailing after Dionysia and the other kids in a daze minutes later.

Dionysia mingled about with the others a little but never strayed too far from my side as we walked, brushing up against me, sometimes practically breathing down my neck. At one point she came forward suddenly and pressed herself against my chest, leaning up like she was about to kiss me before giggling and dancing away again when I reached out for her.

She was practically bursting full of energy. She was excited for something – weirdly so, though I could hardly be bothered to figure out her strange mood.

After a while she took my hand and murmured in my ear, ‘let’s get away from these idiots.’

I went along with the suggestion like I had with everything else so far. I allowed her to lure me deeper into the woods. When I finally began to resist she said quickly, ‘it’s not far now, I promise.’

By that point I had absolutely no idea where I was. I doubted I would be able to find my way back on my own, so I was easily persuaded.

Dionysia stopped us soon after. We’d reached an open space in the woodland. In the middle of it a small sized hill stood blanketed by darkness and shadows. It was topped by a series of standing stones hunched together in a tight formation, like huddled figures.

‘What is this place?’ I asked uneasily.

She didn’t respond immediately, instead urging me toward the center of the clearing past the remains of a complex maze-like pattern of uneven, low hanging walls and up over the remains of what might have once been stairs.

‘Celtic ruins,’ Dionysia explained as she moved. ‘Not many people know this particular place exists.’

‘Dionysia,  I think we should go back,’ I said. Something about the clearing gave off a powerful sense of wrongness. The best way I can describe it is I felt like something impossible was watching me from just beyond my line of sight.

Besides that I’d just begun to really think about how shitty what I was doing was to Desdemona.

Dionysia turned slowly to face me. She looked hurt.

‘You didn’t come all this way just to scorn me.’ She asked. ‘Come on. Let’s have some fun!’

She pulled me closer to her, trailing her hand up my shoulder and neck before linking it back into mine. She smelled strongly of lavender and other, less familiar herbs. It wasn’t like any kind of perfume I could think of.

‘I’m sorry,’ I repeated again, more forcefully this time. ‘This was a stupid idea. I’m going to go back if you don’t mind.’

Her grip fastened on my arm. In a second, it was as tight as a vice. Her expression changed, all the warmth draining out of it.

‘Dionysia, what -’

She hit me. It was a sucker punch right in the face and it sent me reeling backwards.  The world spun around me – at least, what little of it I could make out in the darkness.

I lost my footing and fell. My head smacked back against the ground. My vision turned black momentarily.

I tried to get up but Dionysia was already there, lightning fast. She yanked me to my feet and pressed a knife into my throat. She dug it in until I felt the force of the blade pushing uncomfortably into my skin.

I managed to pull free momentarily, elbowing her in the stomach. I was in the middle of stumbling away when she caught me. She smacked me across the face with such force I lost my balance and fell back onto the ground. Dionysia was as strong as or perhaps stronger than her sister.

‘I don’t mind if you struggle,’ she said. ‘You are not getting away from me.’ She didn’t bother to keep her voice down. Instead, she spoke quite loudly.

She loosened her grip as if to prove a point. I decided against taking the bait.

My next escape attempt was more pathetic than the last and was rewarded with a hard kick in the ribs.

I yelled out as she dragged me back.

‘Scream as loud as you want,’ Dionysia said. ‘Nobody can hear you.’ She screamed herself to drive the point home, making the sound as loud and deranged as she could.

I cringed back.

Dionysia worked quickly and efficiently, circling a thick rope around my wrists and then winding it around a tree behind me. The rope was long enough to allow me to move around a little. Not that it mattered. She bound my legs together next.

She was muttering to herself as she worked. She struggled with some of the knots, going so far as to hiss out in irritation when one came loose.

Was I going to die out here? I wondered. I tried to imagine it. I couldn’t. I was still waiting to see if Dionysia was playing some kind of twisted prank.

‘Why are you doing this?’ I asked her.

I needed to repeat the question to break her out of the internal dialogue she’d entered into.

‘Getting rid of a problem,’ she said, looking up. ‘The problem being you. My sister doesn’t seem to want to fall out of love with you no matter what I say to her.’

She eyed me in distaste and poked her tongue out.

‘I can’t stop thinking about how she feels about you. It’s so gross, it drives me nuts. She’s completely ruining the – the purity of this family!’ She clenched her hands into fists in emphasis.

‘What is all this for, though? What are you going to do to me?’ I asked.

She tossed her hair. ‘Well, I’m not going to do anything,’ she answered.

‘You know about the Faceless One, don’t you? You are an offering to him. We’re at one of his shines right now. Do you believe in the legends, Tristrian?’

When I didn’t answer she continued, ‘Well, you’ll find out if they’re real soon enough.’

‘Eldid – my brother – is going to make an offering for Issaut’s brother. He has someone he wants to get rid of almost as much as I want to get rid of you.’

‘Sacrifices for what?’

‘For love,’ she finished happily.

‘Oh’, I said.

‘Oh?’ Dionysia repeated.

I looked away.

‘Oh, don’t be such a prude’, she chided. She was circling me now, drawing up shapes in the dirt with a long stick.

‘Eldid and I have decided performing a special sacrifice together will be a suitable way of manifesting our relationship.’

She surveyed the little circle of trees, a miniature grove which had become my prison. She appeared satisfied.

Dionysia leaned in close. ‘This has been fun, but I’ve really got to get going now,’ she whispered in my ear. ‘Do svidaniya!’

I cried out for her to stop. Dionysia ignored me.

She moved some distance away. She paused again by the edge of the trees, and remained standing there for nearly a minute. Then she spasmed slightly, doubling over like she was about to puke.

She straightened back up slowly and tilted her head back. I saw her mouth open unnaturally wide. Her entire body arched so she was bent over backwards and then she screamed.

It was an entirely inhuman scream which shouldn’t have been able to come out of her mouth.

Hearing it made me want to cover my ears.

I cringed back in horror. The scream lasted for an unnaturally long time before dying off, and even then the sound seemed to linger in the air.

She coughed several times. When Dionysia glanced back at me, she appeared to be normal again.

‘He’ll make it quick – probably,’ she called. ‘I’ve heard he’s more merciful than his brother.’

The realization came to me only panic was threatening to take over, once Dionysia’s form had melded in with the shadows.

I still had Desdemona’s knife. Since our breakup it had become a little piece of her I carried with me almost everywhere.

It took me plenty enough time to position my hands just right so I could get a good grip on it, but eventually I was able to grab and carefully slide the switchblade out of my back pocket.

I went to work on slicing through the ropes. Within minutes my wrists felt raw and sensitive from the ropes rubbing against them as I repeatedly tried to readjust my hands.

The switchblade was very sharp. It slid in my grip and cut me more than once in my sweaty palms. I didn’t mind too much, because it also made my task a lot easier.

During this time I had plenty of opportunities to contemplate what Dionysia meant when she spoke of the brothers – and what she was talking about when she mentioned a second sacrifice.

Chapter 9

The sensation of being watched started almost immediately after Dionysia uttered the unearthly scream and left the clearing. From there it progressed from a chill at the back of my spine to something stronger; an overwhelming and crippling paranoia.

Did Dionysia really believe in the legends? Emily seemed to think so.

She believed something was going to happen to me, certainly. She wouldn’t have gone to all the trouble to kidnap me otherwise.

First, you’ll see him out of the periphery of your vision. The shape of a man, abnormally tall, with indiscernible features. You may believe at first that he’s a product of your imagination. Yet as time passes and you wander lost in the darkness he’ll transform from a ghostly figure in your mind’s eye to something more tangible.

He never speaks. Sometimes you may hear the sounds of footsteps on the grass behind you – though he’s never seen moving at all while he’s being watched.

Issaut, the Betrayed One. The Faceless One. Both Emily and Anne had familiarized themselves with the entity.

His gaze is hypnotic. You’re not supposed to look at him for too long. It is said you will lose your soul if you do, Anne wrote.

Hikers who take the trails surrounding Avalon are warned of the Banshee’s Wail, a sound rumored to bring the darkest of fortunes to any listener. Should a person hear the sound, the legends claim, they will be dead within the following couple nights, as one of the brothers – whichever one whose territory the hikers have intruded upon, will hunt them down – each and every individual who heard the sound, one by one.

I thought back to the demented noise Desdemona made before she left and suppressed a shiver.

What I first saw of him were glimpses. A subtly shimmering figure which stood among the trees observing me. These sightings left me twisting around on the ground restlessly as I searched for him.

The thing was always far away; most often half hidden behind a tree or well within the shroud of fog so that it was impossible for me to determine its presence with any certainty.

As the last pieces of rope fell in a tangled heap around my legs, I pulled myself to my feet. Still in a daze, I set off walking, tripping over myself several times in the process.

I tried my best to retrace the route Dionysia took me. The problem was I’d completely lost any sense of direction. And I kept getting distracted by the shape of the faceless man as it flickered in the corners of my vision.

Over the course of ten minutes I came across three torn up notes with childish drawings of tormented looking figures. They were either fighting or running; sometimes I wasn’t sure which.

Around these scribblings an unfamiliar script was written haphazardly across the pages.

One page was carried right past me by a gust of wind as I was making my way through the gloom, startling me. I caught it in my hand. I examined the note briefly before tossing it away and speeding up my pace.

Through some stroke of luck I happened across a road winding through the forest. Once I broke through the treeline and stepped onto it, I allowed myself to slow down and catch my breath.

After I’d calmed down a bit I called Emily. It had struck me she might be the second person Dionysia and Eldid decided to target.

The phone rang for close to a minute before I got an answer.

‘What’s wrong?’ She asked. ‘Why are you calling so late?’

Relief washed through me.

I struggled with how to explain myself. On the other end, I could hear Emily voicing concern for me with quickly increasing urgency.

‘Do you really believe all the things Anne wrote about the Volkov family?’ I asked when I’d gathered myself.

There was a tangible stretch of silence on the other end.

‘Why are you asking?’

‘I think one of them just tried to kill me.’

‘What?’

‘A girl – Dionysia – kidnapped me. She wanted to use me for a sacrifice of some sort.’ The words sounded insane coming out of my mouth but there was no better way I could think to explain the situation I was in.

There was a long pause.

‘She claimed I wasn’t the only sacrifice,’ I continued. ‘She said something about giving one soul to each of the brothers. I think she’s planning to kill someone else, and I was scared it might be you.’

‘You’re serious, aren’t you?’ Shock entered her voice. ‘Oh my god.’

I allowed myself to relax slightly. ‘You should find somewhere to hide, okay?,’ I said. ‘You still might be in danger.’

‘Did she say anything else? Did she give any other details about her plan?’ She asked.

I massaged my throbbing head, thinking back. ‘No, not really.’

‘Right.’ I could hear her moving around on the other end of the phone. I waited restlessly.

‘She led you to a celtic ruin in the forest? What did it look like?’

I’d summarized the layout of it as quickly as I could.

‘I think I know where you are,’ she said uncertainly. ‘It was once a site used by the Celts to conduct ceremonies and make offerings to their gods. There’s a corresponding site with a similar structure a couple of miles away from you on the other side of town.’

I heard the muffled sound of a door closing. ‘I’ve visited both of them before. I know how to get there.’

‘Emily, that’s not a good idea?’

‘I need to get you out of there. You’re in danger.’

‘From wha-’

I was in the middle of talking when it appeared again. This time it was noticeably closer, a figure cloaked in the mist with an aura darker than the blackness of the night surrounding it.

‘Tristrian!’ Emily was calling through the phone. Her voice drifted in and out of static. ‘What’s going on? What the hell was that?’

I swallowed down bile from the back of my throat. I felt nauseatingly sick. ‘I don’t know, Emily. Something is following me.’

‘When I found the road I figured I would be okay,’ I explained shakily. ‘But it’s still coming after me. Crap.’

‘Okay. Okay. I’m on my way to you. You need to describe exactly where you are.’

‘I don’t think it’s human,’ I continued. It made what I said next sound kind of stupid in retrospect.

‘I think I should call the police,’ I added. ‘It’s better than you coming out here and putting yourself in danger trying to help me -’

‘They wouldn’t arrive in time to save you from him.’

The voice I heard then wasn’t Emily’s.

‘Shit!’ Emily’s voice had become audible again through the static. ‘Whatever you do, do not look at him,’ she urged. ‘Especially not at his face. Do you hear me? No matter what happens. Now keep moving. Run, if you can.’

I turned around slowly. Someone was standing at the edge of the treeline. It was just beyond where he would be properly visible from the light.’

‘Who are you?’ I called out.

‘I’m the reason you’re not dead right now.’

It was there again. This time, no longer in my periphery. The faceless form was standing just behind the man at the fringes of the trees, a demon observing me without eyes. It couldn’t have been more than ten meters away.

Thankfully I had the sense to look down quickly.

‘What the hell was that?’ Emily demanded. Her voice was faint and echoey, only half audible.

I lowered the phone slowly.

‘You have a choice to make, and you don’t have much time to make it,’ the man instructed. ‘Do you want me to help you?’

‘What? Who are you?’

‘Does it matter who I am?’ He asked.

‘Why would you help me?’

When he tilted his head, I could have sworn I caught the hint of horns jutting out into the darkness.

‘Why? What do you get out of helping me?’ I repeated, more forcefully.

My faceless stalker vanished again. He reappeared momentarily in front of the man on the road, flickering in and out of existence like a stuttering hologram.

The closer he came to me, the sicker I felt in his presence. With Issaut only a couple meters away I staggered, choking on my own vomit as I fought back against an overwhelming and very frightening sense of weakness.

‘You have something I want. Now, the only way you’re going to survive the next minute is if you do exactly as I say. It won’t be difficult. Repeat a simple incantation after me and this will all be over. I promise.’

I tried looking at the road. It didn’t work. His visage lingered in the corners of my vision even as I stared unwillingly downward.

It wasn’t much of a decision to make. I was beyond terrified, and the man was already speaking out the incantation for me. It was the only choice I had.

I did my best to force out the words as he did, but the man interrupted part way through. ‘Try again. And this time don’t mispronounce anything, alright?’

The words sounded the same to me when I uttered them again – until I finished repeating them after him. Then I realized something about them was different.

A shiver seemed to run through the forest, vibrating through the trees all around me and down my body.

‘Good,’ the voice sighed.

‘Now what?’ I asked.

The figure slowly raised his hand, as if to wave. That was the last thing I remembered seeing. I was still trying to figure out what the hell was going on when I passed out.

Emily said she found me lying at the edge of the road. It was purely by accident while she was driving over to the ruins.

I scared her half to death when she saw me. She thought I might be dead. When I came to she was shaking me frantically and yelling my name.

Emily hugged me, clinging on to me tightly as her panicked breathing slowed and her body relaxed. She refused to let go for half a minute.

As  I pried myself free of her she looked me over and asked, ‘no more fighting between us, alright?’

I agreed wholeheartedly.

‘So what happened?’ She asked shakily. ‘You have to tell me what happened.’

I explained what I could, the memories coming back to me in pieces as I told the story.

By the end of my story Emily looked troubled, and her eyes had become distant.

‘I know it sounds crazy, but that’s what happened. I swear.’

‘That man saved me,’ I added. ‘Although I suppose it wasn’t a man, was it?’

It was nearly a minute before she replied. When she did, her voice was very small.

‘You’re right. It was no man who visited you.’

She appeared to have some difficulty getting the next words out. ‘He was Imurela. The Goatman. I think you would have guessed as much by now.’

‘I’ve seen him, too. He approached me a couple of weeks ago,’ she explained hollowly. ‘It was right around the time I learned you were with Desdemona.’

‘The Goatman wanted to make a deal with me. He attempted to convince me we should work together. He showed me things. Like visions, and I didn’t know if they were real or not but god were they awful. One was from tonight – it was of you dying. That was why I kind of freaked out when you called me. It’s also why I knew where to look for you.’

‘Why did he want your help?’ I asked.

‘The Goatman offered me a deal,’ she said slowly. He would protect me from the Volkov family, who he promised would come after me once they realized I was looking into them. And he would help me take down the Volkovs. In return, I would swear my loyalty to him and do whatever he asked of me. Of what he wanted he wasn’t specific.’

‘I said no because I’d heard of the kinds of deals he made with people. Imurela is a manipulator and a psychopath. Making any kind of deal with him would be a terrible idea.’

‘I didn’t expect him to take my refusal so well, but he wasn’t angry at all. He just accepted it. He left me with a parting message though. He’d come back, he claimed. He’d get what he wanted. It was only a matter of time.’

‘Speak these words,’ he tells me. ‘It’s all you have to do to call me.’

He whispered them in my ear. I tried to forget them but I couldn’t. They’ve been stuck in my mind since I heard them.’

Emily recited three phrases carefully. I felt a biting shiver run through me as I listened to her speak.

When she looked at me, she must have read my expression.

‘That’s what you heard, isn’t it?’ She asked.

I didn’t answer.

‘God, I’ve been trying to keep you out of this,’ she sighed.

I swallowed. ‘What does this mean for me, exactly?’

‘I don’t know. But you’d be dead right now if you didn’t speak the spell.’ She sounded unsettlingly certain of the fact.

‘So am I in some kind of devil bargain now?’

‘I don’t know,’ Emily repeated, frustrated. ‘He wants me, not you. I think he’s using you to get me to do what he wants.’

She touched my shoulder. ‘You should be fine as long as I do whatever he says – and trust me, I will. I have to.’

Her words weren’t much of a consolation.  ‘What if he asks you to do something bad? like to hurt someone?’

She pulled back. ‘If he wanted to kill someone, he could easily do it himself,’ she said uncomfortably. ‘I don’t think he wants me to do his dirty work for him. I’d guess he wants me to help him gather information on them.’

Emily collected herself. ‘Anyway, we can’t worry about that now. You said someone else is in danger? We’ve got to find them.’

‘Emily, we need to talk about this.’

She shook her head. ‘Let me deal with Imurela. You’re in this situation because of me. It’s my responsibility.’

‘You can’t let him make you his slave,’ I protested.

‘I have no idea what I’m going to do about him, okay?’ Emily burst out. ‘If you’d just shut up and let me think, maybe I could come up with some kind of plan.’

The expression Emily was wearing was stricken. She blamed herself, I realized. Somehow in her head what happened to me tonight was her fault.

The drive didn’t take long. We’d barely left town before we were steering onto a backroad. We continued down it for a couple of minutes before parking off to one side.

I couldn’t stop myself from searching for some sign of the tall, faceless stalker.

‘You aren’t likely to see him,’ Emily commented. ‘Imurela is a manipulator, but he is also reputed to honor his bargains. He’ll protect you.’

She didn’t sound comforted by the fact – or entirely sure of herself.

‘The two sites were traditionally used for pagan rituals and sacrifices,’ Emily said as we began hiking our way into the forest. ‘Though not human ones, I believe.’

The quiet of the night was broken by the sudden bleating of a car alarm in the distance. Hearing it caused me to nearly jump out of my skin. I tried to calm myself as I noticed Emily looking at me with concern.

‘You’re okay, aren’t you?’ She asked again.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I said. I paused to lean against a tree. My head was throbbing, my face still stinging from where Dionysia had hit me.

I had a feeling it wasn’t the last time I was going to hear her worrying about me that night.

The deceiver. The traitor. He can wear other people’s forms like a second skin, and make himself a near perfect imitation of their character and personality.

He enjoys playing mind games. He likes to turn people against one another and watch them as they tear each other apart, rather than hurting people directly.

Anne had discussed several stories on her blog written from survivors of purported Goatman attacks. The Goatman didn’t mind leaving behind a survivor or two. Such individuals had little of their sanity left and their lives would be forever haunted by the demon which had hunted them – and the things it made them do.

She retold a story about a small group of hikers who were touring Austria a decade ago. They visited Avalon for a couple days and then headed off on a trip exploring the surrounding wilderness.

Their little slice of hell began with them hearing the Banshee’s Wail from far away. One of them disappeared later during that first night.

He returned hours after claiming to not remember leaving them. He stayed long enough to lure them off the trail and deeper into the woods. Then once again he vanished.

Imurela took another during the following night, leaving the remains of the first body out in the forest for the survivors to discover. Each night the Goatman tormented them in its true form, chasing them, stalking them, and filling the night with its inhuman screams.

The only reason a lone survivor escaped was because he killed the last two of his companions to save himself at the Goatman’s behest. Eventually he’d confessed all of his crimes to the police and he spent what remained of his life at a mental institution.

As we walked together, I experienced a similar kind of dread to what I felt when Issaut first appeared. It grew stronger the further we moved. The chirps of cicadas and intermittent hooting of owls were overtaken by an unnatural silence. Goosebumps flared on the back of my neck and I kept looking around me in fear of something I couldn’t quite identify.

I was more than a little relieved once we reached the end of our journey. Emily pointed ahead of us just as I spotted the standing stones through the trees.

I yelled out toward the ruins as they became visible through the pale, drifting gloom of the forest, ignoring Emily as she squeezed my arm tightly. Some seconds of silence followed as I held my breath. And then:

‘Here! Help me! Please, oh god, HELP ME!’

Nailah was tied up against the rock of a standing stone. The vague shape of a frowning face curved into the stone stared down at her disapprovingly as she looked up at us.

The process of freeing her wasn’t easy, even with me and Emily working together. Eldid had been careful and meticulous about tying her down, using duct tape instead of ropes, and a lot of it.

There was no sign of movement from the trees around us. I kept an eye directed toward the forest anyway.

In the beginning Nailah looked around her anxiously, examining every shadow like something or someone was about to emerge from it. After a while she laid her head back against the wall and closed her eyes. I needed to call out her name to get her attention once Emily tore the last of the duct tape off her wrists.

‘Come on, we’ve got to go,’ Emily said, tugging at her arms.

Once Nailah was freed, some energy seemed to return to her. We climbed down the hill together, stumbling over the maze of short stone walls. Nailah nearly fell over herself a couple of times but she always picked herself up and kept going.

We moved as fast as we could back to the car. And… Nothing happened. There were no more encounters with the Goatman that night. The sounds of the forest resumed, and soon after that we reached the road. I still felt like something was watching me. But I was longer filled with the inexplicable sense of dread.

Chapter 10

Once we reached the car Nailah turned back to assess us one by one. She was very pale and sick. When I saw the looks Emily gave both of us I wondered whether I looked as bad as her.

‘You should probably visit a hospital,’ Emily commented as she examined her.

‘No, no hospitals,’ Nailah said. ‘Honestly, I wish I could go home and try to pretend none of this night happened.’

‘Are you for real? Someone just tried to get you killed!’

‘We can’t go to the police,’ Nailah said quickly. ‘If that’s what you’re thinking. They won’t listen to our story and they certainly won’t raise a finger against any of Esther’s children.’

‘What are you going to do, then?’ Emily glanced down. ‘You at least need to get your arm stitched up.’

Nailah looked at her arm like she hadn’t noticed how much it was bleeding. I’ll admit I hadn’t, either.

‘Oh,’ she said.

‘We can deal with your arm at my place,’ Emily decided.

‘Em, are you a doctor or something?’ Nailah asked.

‘I did some volunteering at a clinic a couple years ago. I know the basics. Look, if you don’t want to go to a hospital you at least need to do something about it, or the wound is going to get infected.’

She added after a couple moments, ‘plus, you owe us an explanation for what happened out there tonight – to you and to Tristrian.’

Nailah glanced at me. Then she nodded slowly. ‘Okay. I’ll come with you.’

Emily gave Nailah a rundown of the earlier part of the night. She notably omitted the Goatman out of her explanation of events, giving me a warning look in the rearview mirror as she lied to her. I decided it was best to play along and trust Emily’s decision.

‘Do you two know each other?’ I asked.

The girls glanced at me, then at each other. ‘Kind of,’ Nailah said.

‘We – worked together for a bit,’ Emily admitted. ‘She’s been helping me get information about the Volkovs.’

‘She’s very determined,’ Nailah observed. ‘I hope you can get to the bottom of the mystery around your dads death, by the way.’

‘Yeah,’ Emily responded shortly. She kept her eyes on the road. ‘Nailah has some family secrets of her own she is looking to expose, so we’ve been exchanging information a bit.’

‘For how long?’ I asked.

‘A month,’ she said offhandedly. ‘It’s been covert and online. We’ve hardly talked in person.’

I wanted to ask her more but Emily cut in first to press Nailah about what happened to her.

‘The Volkovs came after you. Why?’ she asked.

Nailah hesitated. ‘Dionysia is convinced I’m in on some secret plan to destroy her family from within. She thinks I want revenge for what happened to my parents. And that’s something I’d rather not get into at the moment.’

‘If you hadn’t noticed, she gets extremely paranoid,’ Nailah continued. ‘She hardly trusts anyone except for her mother and Eldid, and sometimes not even them.

‘Eldid is working with her. He somehow figured out I was going into the woods tonight for a ritual offering to Cambion. He followed me, and he did to me pretty much what Dionysia did with you. Hit me a couple of times over the head with something, tied me by my hands and feet and dragged me to the altar. He left me there for you to find.’

‘I don’t think they were worried about getting caught. She knows few people will care enough to go looking for me.’

Nailah had lots of other things to say about the Volkovs and Emily had plenty enough to ask.

From their conversation I realized how much Emily had already learned about them.

As the car rolled to a stop, Emily leaned back against the driver’s seat. She remained there for a couple moments before pushing open the car door.

‘There’s another thing I should mention,’ Nailah said, laying a hand on my arm. ‘Dionysia hates seeing you with Desdemona. It drives her nuts. She was the one who convinced Desdemona to break up with you. She made up some story about her putting you in danger by being with you.

But then she saw Desdemona – well – she still really cares about you and nothing Dionysia could say would change the fact. So she decided breaking you two up wasn’t enough. She took things a step further.’

You need to understand I only pieced this together after she kidnapped me. I had no idea she’d go as far as killing you – or killing anyone until now. I knew she was crazy, but I didn’t know she was as far gone as this.’

Nailah agreed readily when I asked her to tell Desdemona what she’d told me. ‘She needs to know,’ she agreed. ‘And it’s the least I can do to get back at Dionysia.’

‘Desdemona,’ I said, turning to Emily. ‘She’s not like the rest of them.’

Emily eyed me and then Nailah skeptically.

‘She isn’t,’ I repeated, more forcefully.

‘She isn’t yet,’ Nailah put in. ‘Though I fear she will become like the rest of them in another couple of years.’

‘So we help her,’ I said. ‘We have to convince her to leave her family.’

‘Even if I could – or you could for that matter, she can’t simply leave. It doesn’t work like that. When you’re born into this family, you’re born into the pact with Cambion made by our forefathers a millenia ago.’

‘If you don’t continue to actively participate in the rituals and sacrifices, Cambion punishes you. It’ll start with bad luck. Before long it progresses to people you care about dying all around you. Finally, you get sick yourself and die a slow and painful death. And after your death?

Supposedly, you are destined for eternal torment wandering the forest as a twisted spirit like the two brothers became.’

‘Shit,’ I admitted. ‘Well, I didn’t know that.’

‘I’d like freedom myself,’ Nailah continued. ‘And there is one way out of the bargain. But the few people who’ve tried already have seen it end badly for them. And even if she succeeds, she may not be the same person afterward.’

‘See, you have to do something radical for Cambion to consider freeing you,’ Nailah explained. ‘You must make a single, exceptional offering to him.’

‘And before you even do that you need to ask if he will help you. There’s some sort of ritualistic prayer involved where you are confronted with a vision of what he wants you to do. You have to make the vision come to pass, which means causing something very bad to happen.’

‘There’s another condition, too,’ she continued. ‘The ritual can only work if you’re uninitiated – if you haven’t had your proving ceremony. I’ve already had mine, and Desdemona has been deemed not ready yet. Luckily for her.’

Nailah must have noticed my confusion. ‘Oh, right, sorry. Every family member must participate in a special ceremony, typically around when they turn twenty. If a new wife or husband married into the family is deemed worthy, they can engage in a version of the ceremony where they drink the blood of other family members. It is how the family intermarries while maintaining their perceived ‘purity of blood’.’

‘Some family members work managing overseas businesses, making the Volkovs money and expanding their power and influence. Each of these people have a patron, another family member who makes sacrifices on their behalf.’

I slumped back in the chair. I felt exhausted by her explanation.

‘I guess I need your help, then,’ I said. ‘Tell me you’ll help her.’

‘What?’ Emily interjected.

‘I will,’ Nailah decided. ‘If I can get her to accept my help. Our help.’

‘You will?’ I repeated.

She exhaled. ‘Yes. I care about her too. We grew up together, and she was one of the only people who showed me any real kindness.’

‘Besides – I owe you, don’t I?’ She smiled slightly. ‘I believe I would be dead right now if not for you.’

But Nailah was still apprehensive. She proceeded to warn me, ‘listen, I don’t really know if it is even possible. Everything I’ve told you is based on stories passed down from my ancestors, and those stories date back centuries. These are myths and legends we’re talking about, not facts.’

I leaned forward in my seat. ‘So we try. We do whatever we can.’

‘Tristrian, you’ve put yourself in enough danger already,’ Emily put in persistently.

‘It’s his choice, not yours’ Nailah replied. Emily looked away to mouth something and then glared at Nailah.

‘We should call Desdemona and tell her what happened,’ Nailah suggested, looking to me. ‘We’ve got plenty to talk about.’

Emily wasn’t happy about bringing Desdemona into things but Nailah dismissed her protests. She moved away slightly to speak to her as Emily showed her irritation. Eventually, she returned her attention to me and came over.

‘Tristian, listen to me,’ Emily hissed in my ear, tugging at my arm. ‘Tristian! They can’t find out about what happened with Imurela. That stays between us. Do you understand?’ She lowered her voice further. ‘If Desdemona found out that he’s plotting against her family, she will do something stupid. I’m sure of it.’

I acknowledged her with a reluctant nod. ‘But we still have to talk about it, Emily.’

‘There will be time to. Later,’ she acknowledged.

With Emily appearing distracted watching Nailah, I returned to listening to her and Desdemona speak. Its messed up how happy I was to hear her worrying about me.

She didn’t stay on the phone for long. Desdemona turned up at Emily’s house half an hour later to hear what happened in person.

I watched the expression on her face change as Nailah spoke to her. She glanced back at me with wide eyes, opening her mouth soundlessly. She clenched and then unclenched her fists. When Nailah was done speaking, she put her face in her hands.

I took a step toward her instinctively and called out her name.

‘Desdemona!’

Her head shot up. She jumped up, ran over to me and practically leapt into my arms, hugging me tightly. I embraced her back as hard as she was clutching onto me.

It felt so good just to be holding her again. For a few moments I allowed the images imprinted in  my mind’s eye to fade into my subconscious.

She was crying and sobbing uncontrollably. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she gasped in between sniffles. ‘This is all my fault!’

‘What? No! It was your siblings who did this,’ I said gently. ‘Nailah explained how they planned this all out, didn’t she?’

‘Yeah, she did. I swear, I didn’t think either of them would be capable of something so vile.’

‘I know,’ I added. ‘About your family. I know everything.’

‘By everything, you mean -’

‘The rituals. The murders and sacrifices. And Cambion.’

‘For how long?’ She didn’t appear shocked by the news.

‘For a while, I guess. I didn’t really believe any of it until tonight though.’

‘I wanted to tell you. All of it – well, most,’ Desdemona whispered, taking one of my hands in hers. ‘But if you knew it would put you in more danger.’

On the other side of the room, Emily cleared her throat pointedly.

All three of us ended up talking for a while, our conversation stretching far on into the night. We weren’t going to the police, we agreed. I understood the futility of such an action given how insane our story sounded and who we were accusing.

I got Emily to give us a rundown of all she’d been up to over the last couple of months.

‘I initially became interested in the Volkovs because – well, you know why. There was John’s death. It didn’t look like an accident, it looked targeted. And of course, there’s the way he dies and Ian immediately takes over his company, restarts it and begins making a ton of money for himself and his mysterious benefactor.’

‘But the police investigated Ian and they decided he was innocent. I thought I must have been wrong. For a while, anyway.’

‘Then someone calling themselves Samuel contacted me. He linked me to Anne’s blog. You know what I read. Anne found out what the benefactor – Normann – was looking for, with the help of an anonymous informant from inside the company. From them she learned Normann was paying our dad a large amount of money to retrieve an artifact for him. She also wrote about dad and Ian’s falling out over the mining operation. From everything I could gather, Ian wanted to continue the operation and take the extra money Normann was offering them.’

‘In her final post she claimed our dad was going to be the next one to disappear if he decided to go through with shutting down the company.’

‘This man who was helping me, he was somewhat vague about what was in it for him. He said he had a mutual interest with me in hunting down the perpetrators of our dad’s murder. But the things he told me didn’t line up. I got suspicious. I did a little digging around on my own. And I couldn’t find anything about him. He had no identity on the internet and trust me, everyone leaves some kind of digital footprint.’

‘In the end, I needed to persuade Samuel to tell me who he really was. Otherwise I threatened to stop working for him. And so he showed me exactly what he was.’

She took a deep breath. ‘He was Imurela. A monster. Once I’d come to terms with what I’d seen him transform into, I warned him to stay the hell away from me.’ She paused, looking at me meaningfully. ‘I said I would never work with a monster like him.’

‘I searched for help elsewhere. I got some from her,’ Emily continued, nodding to Nailah. Samuel introduced me to her earlier on. We exchanged information for a while. I looked into some shady online business dealings from the Volkovs at her request. In exchange she told me who she suspected was behind the murder of our father. She also gave me some insight into what Normann was looking for.’

‘What exactly do you plan on doing once you find what you’re looking for?’ I interjected.

Emily glanced at Desdemona and Nailah before focusing on me. ‘I am searching for something which will put the Volkovs behind bars. But it hasn’t been easy. Anything short of bulletproof evidence they’ll be able to lie their way out of with the help of good enough lawyers.’

Nailah interjected. ‘What you want is never going to happen. Trust me. People have attempted to go up against my family before. It always ended badly for them.’

‘I have to try.’ Emily’s voice was decisive. ‘And if I can’t destroy the Volkovs, I’ll release all the things I’ve found out about them. I’ll destroy their legacy. I’ll make people despise them. They’ll be remembered by everyone as the monsters I exposed them for.’

Nailah didn’t protest. She almost smiled, though the look in her eyes remained unconvinced.

I turned to Desdemona. ‘You need to get away from the Volkovs.’

‘I can’t.’ She looked down, starting to fidget with her hands. ‘They’re my family. And even if I wanted to, leaving isn’t an option. I’m stuck with them – literally.’

I glanced at Nailah. ‘There is a way out of the bargain, isn’t there?’

She lifted her face. ‘You’re not listening to me. I will not abandon my family, no matter how evil they are.’

I sighed. ‘Okay then. Fine. You’v’e still got a year or two before the ritual happens right? We’ll figure out how to help you, and then you can decide if you truly want your freedom.’

I looked at her searchingly. ‘You have to at least consider it. Please? I’ll help you, I’ll be there for you. I’ll be your… Friend, or whatever you need me to be. I’m begging you – at least think about it.’

‘If I say no, what will you do?’ She asked. She sounded nervous.

‘I won’t leave your side no matter what you decide,’ I said.

Her eyes were searching. ‘You’d stick by me?’ She asked, sounding disbelieving. ‘How could you? You should stay away, listen to Emily. Just being near me is dangerous for you.’

‘I don’t care,’ I admitted. Hesitantly, I moved over to her.

She watched me. She didn’t step away. Instead, she took a couple of small steps closer to me herself.

Emily let out a loud breath. ‘Tristrian? What are you doing?’

We both froze.

Nailah glanced at her, then at us. ‘Come on. They deserve some time alone after everything that’s happened. Plus, I need to talk to you about something privately.’

Emily resisted when Nailah pulled at her hand.

‘It’s about your father,’ Nailah pushed.

She let out a loud breath, but allowed Nailah to urge her out of the room reluctantly.

With them gone, the tension between us doubled. Desdemona struggled for words and so did I, leaving us stuck in an awkward silence.

Desdemona was the one to bridge the small void between us.

‘Tristrian, the time we’ve spent apart feels like it has been like the worst month of my life. Maybe that sounds stupid -’

‘No, it doesn’t,’ I interrupted quickly.

‘I thought I could live without you,’ she continued. ‘But I can’t. I let myself get too close with you, and now I can’t shut you out. ’

She walked right up to me. ‘And I don’t want to anymore. I could have lost you tonight,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t lose you. Never. Losing you would mean losing the best part of myself.’

She touched my face. Her hand was warm and our contact was electrifying.

‘Desdemona, you never lost me,’ I said. ‘You could never lose me.’

Her breath hitched a bit. I pulled her in closer and she didn’t resist. She didn’t resist when I ran one of my hands through the thick curls of her hair. She didn’t resist when I leaned in to kiss her.

‘I’m never letting you out of my sight,’ she promised as she pulled herself free. ‘I swear to god, never.’

Then she kissed me again more forcefully.

In those moments, a part of me became whole again. I felt right. I was hit by a wave of relief and exhilaration and I felt almost high.

Desdemona was mine, I thought. And this time there was no way I was ever going to let her go. She was mine.

‘Always and forever,’ I promised her. ‘You’re mine. I am not losing you again.’

Chapter 11

The following morning the pair of us met up before our first class in the school courtyard.

Eldid was quick to make an appearance as everyone witnessed us cuddling up to one another and laughing together. His face darkened when he saw me.

‘Tristrian,’ he said curtly.

‘Nice to see you too,’ I told him.

He looked like he was going to make a snide remark, but Desdemona cut in first. ‘Screw you, Eldid,’ she snapped. ‘Tristrian is off limits. Remember?’

‘Sister, please,’ he said with a meaningful look between her and me.

‘You have a lot of brazenness speaking to me after what you did,’ she accused. ‘What you wouldn’t even admit to!’

Desdemona turned to me. She took my hands and then encircled her arms around my neck. She kissed me.

‘Come on, kiss me back,’ she whispered, pulling away a little bit. And I did.

As we parted, she met Eldid’s stare. Eldid said nothing. Dionysia, who’d just joined him, took him by the arm and led him away wordlessly.

A surprising number of students took note of the exchange. This included some of my friends, who approached me as Eldid and Dionysia left.

Enid clapped her hands together and gave me a big smile. ‘I’m so glad to see you back together again!’ she cried.

Ronnie shared his enthusiasm. ‘I get the feeling everyone is going to be whispering about you for a while. Again.’ He looked like he wanted to say more but right then the bell rang and the surrounding students began to disperse off across the courtyard.

Desdemona ultimately succeeded in exposing what Dionysia and Eldid had tried with me, as she explained during a warm evening meander through the Italian Plaza.

‘Esther would likely have figured the truth herself in short order. She knew the two of them were hiding something,’ she explained.

‘You know what infuriates me though? Esther was mad about them for being stupid and careless. She hardly cared about the possibility of you being killed, or Nailah either. She was disappointed in them for their disobedience.’

‘She approves of my relationship with you about as much as they do. I actually wonder if Desdemona tried what she did partly to please our mother. It just sucks.’

She sighed as I massaged her back. ‘I guess at least she is mad at them. She’s as angry as I’ve ever seen her. Dionysia and Eldid are going to have a hard time winning back her affection. You should try to stay away from them, though.’

Her eyes darkened. ‘I wish there was some way for me to… Make them understand the awfulness of what they tried. They shouldn’t be allowed to get away with this!’

I didn’t think it was a good idea for Desdermona to lash out at her siblings. I expressed my concern to her and found her unreceptive. Whatever she was planning to do, she’d already made up her mind about it.

‘Whatever you do, please be careful,’ I asked. ‘Promise me.’

She did. She sounded somewhat earnest. I worried for her, but I knew there wasn’t much I could do. Desdemona had made it clear more than once I wasn’t to interfere with her handling of family matters.

With her being more open about everything, I managed to get Desdemona to explain how the supernatural side of things worked for the Volkovs.

‘My family made a pact with a demon called Cambion well over a thousand years ago. That part you know. It is why we’re so powerful,’ she continued. ‘And beautiful, and lucky, and strong and all the rest. It’s all part of the blessing he provides us with.’

‘Each of us lives well over a century – though some longer than others. Normann? I believe he’s over two hundred years old. My mother, too. They don’t like sharing their real ages to me. In fact, they won’t speak of their lives at all past a couple decades ago.’

‘What about the patriarch? How old is he?’ I wanted to know.

‘Um – I’d guess at least twice my mothers age.’ ‘

Four hundred years old?’ I repeated. ‘Wow.’

‘As we grow older we grow more powerful. We do age and die – some of us more quickly than others. It depends on how frequently and fervently we worship Cambion, and how much he personally favors us. The Patriarch tends to live the longest.’

Desdemona admitted she didn’t like the sound of living so much longer than everyone else.

‘I want to be normal, like everyone else,’ she complained. ‘And I know I’m never going to have a shot at a normal life if I go on living twice as long as everyone else does.’

Her words made me hopeful. They provided me with something I could use to persuade her to free herself her curse.

‘Tristrian. Can we talk?’

I froze. I was sitting outside a coffee shop in the Italian Quarter, enjoying the afternoon sun while I deliberated over an English assignment on my laptop. Emily had wanted to meet me to speak about something important which she wouldn’t discuss over the phone.

‘I told you I suspected the Volkovs were involved in John’s death. And how I believe Normann was the one responsible for what happened.’

I shut my laptop quietly, turning my full attention to her.

‘Ian was involved too. As it turns out, he played a part in our father’s murder and then helped cover it up.

I felt my hands tighten on the table. ‘He did what?’

‘I didn’t want to believe it,’ she continued. ‘I’ve tried to find any evidence to prove the theory wrong. The more I looked, the more proof I found I was right, until there was no doubting it.

She paused to tap a couple of times swiftly on her phone, then held it out to me.

On the screen I saw an email. The name of the sender was a jumble of letters and numbers. The receiver I couldn’t identify.

‘I hacked into Ian’s mail account,’ she said without preamble. ‘Which is what you’re looking at right now.’

When I eyed her disapprovingly, she pushed the phone into my hands and instructed, ‘just read it, okay?’

The email was short and to the point:

I’ve made it easy. You make sure he is at the right place at the right time. Check the back door is unlocked and the alarm is switched off. Then give the call to my friends and they’ll take care of the rest. Got it?

By the way,

I’m not going to ask you nicely again.

‘He’s worked his way into Normann’s circle of elitist friends,’ Emily explained, her words blunt. ‘He may have started as a reluctant accomplice, but the money Normann offered him got to his

head. Now he does whatever Normann wants.  They seem to have a good relationship.’

Our uncle had promised a better future for us in Avalon. He recommended Emily to the prestigious Samara University and offered her enough money to provide for her for the next couple years. For me the deal was similar. A nice school, a fresh start. He promised to support me financially with whatever education I desired after I graduated.

Ian was a withdrawn person, quiet and always busy with work. He respected my personal space and most of the time he let me do whatever I wanted. I can’t say I was very close to him, but besides Emily, he was the only real family I had left.

After John’s murder, our uncle had changed. I sometimes wondered if he felt somehow responsible for our father’s death because of how reluctant he was to discuss anything about John after his passing.

‘Are you sure about this?’ I asked.

She replied immediately. ‘I am. I’ll show you the other evidence if you want.’

The other evidence was a bit to sift through. It included more communications between Normann and Ian, further proof tying these interactions back to Ian, and some conversations with someone else where Ian said some pretty awful and threatening things about my father.

Put together, the evidence was convincing enough for me. I didn’t want to believe Emily, but what I saw was undeniable.

‘He’s caught up in whatever Normann is planning. As a key player or a pawn in his schemes? I don’t know.’

‘What is it you are going to do once you find proof?’ I asked uneasily. ‘You’ll take it to the police, right?’

‘He will get what he deserves. I promise,’ Emily assured me.

‘But he’s not the only one who has to pay,’ she continued swiftly. ‘The Volkovs are all evil. The world is a darker place with them in it. I intend to see their empire destroyed – every business they’ve built in this town and everything of value to them.’

I shifted on the chair uncomfortably.

‘They’ll all suffer,’ Emily emphasized. ‘Him and Normann and the rest of them. Imurela is going to make sure of it.’

‘You’re fine with working for him now?’ I asked.

She threw up her hands. ‘No! I hate working for him. But I don’t have a choice. And don’t tell me you wouldn’t wish to see Ian and Normann face retribution for what they did to John.’

I sighed.

‘What does the Goatman want you to do? Is he using you to hurt people?’ I asked her.

She looked down unwillingly. ‘I can’t tell anyone that. He’s sworn me to secrecy.’

‘Emily -’

‘He promised me once the Volkovs are dealt with, our deal is over and me and you can both leave this town forever. We’ll start a new life somewhere else. All of this will be just another bad memory.’

She took one of my hands in hers and squeezed it tightly. ‘All you have to do for now is keep this a secret.’

We both fell silent for a while. Emily looked tired and a little scared. The more I examined her, the more her appearance perturbed me.

‘Emily, please don’t hurt her.’

She didn’t have to ask who I was referring to.

‘You should stay away from her,’ she told me.

‘That’s not going to happen,’ I said.

Emily threw up her hands. ‘How can you stick by her when you know what her family has done?

I don’t know what’s wrong with you!’

‘She’s just a kid.’

Her gaze made me tense. ‘Given the deal they’ve made they’re hardly people anymore, are they?’ She asked cuttingly. ‘Besides, you have no idea what she’s done for them.’ She added, ‘You know, I suspect she’s been helping Esther gather dirt on people she can use to exploit them.’

‘I know Esther has questionable ways of doing business with people. I also know Desdemona doesn’t like or agree with her mother’s actions. She would never do that,’ I told her.

‘I bet she would.’

‘But you don’t know, do you? You don’t know if she’s actually done anything?’

She sighed begrudgingly.

‘Come on. Just give her a chance,’ I pleaded.

‘No. She’s one of them,’ Emily repeated stubbornly.

‘I won’t let you hurt her.’

‘You can’t stop me.’ She clasped her hands together on the table. ‘Are you afraid I’ll uncover something about her, something she’s done?’ She leaned forward. ‘If I do, and I expect I will, she’ll pay for her sins with the rest of them.’

‘You’re getting good,’ Desdemona spoke breathlessly. It was one late afternoon and we were practicing fencing at the school gym. We were one of a number of regulars who sought to hone their skill to a more competitive level.

It was one of the fights I thought I’d won. I let her lunge in on and force me toward the back of the miniature piste. In between two of her wild cuts I saw an opening and jumped forward to jab her in her chest.

I pointed the saber at her, pressing it slightly into her torso.

‘I win,’ I said, and playfully asked, ‘do you surrender?’

With her characteristic lightning quickness she danced out of the way of the blade. Then she turned my saber to the side with her own while dashing forward.

The sword fell out of my hand. I looked down at it stupidly, and Desdemona pointed her saber at me.

‘Ow. That was unfair,’ I said as I rubbed my wrist.

‘We fight dirty,’ Desdemona replied. ‘If you’re ever going to be part of my family, you must always remember that.’

Desdemona put her saber down and came over to me. She winced as she plucked up my hand and examined it. ‘Sorry, that was a little too rough, I think. Are you okay?’

I repeated her words to myself silently, my annoyance melting away.

Part of her family. I loved the sound of that more than I could say.

Chapter 12

Desdemona came to me unexpectedly the following night, appearing at my front door and stepping in without a word.

She was encircling one of her hands around the other, pulling at it as if there was something stuck to her skin.

The stricken expression on her face scared me. I grabbed her, demanding to know what happened.

‘I did something stupid,’ she mumbled. ‘I need to talk to someone about it, and you were the only person I could think of.’

I pulled her closer and held her while she calmed down. Eventually she began to speak, somewhat unsteadily.

She sucked in a deep breath. ‘Esther has plans in motion, power plays in preparation for the appointment of a new family patriarch. She’s looking to get back at Normann finally.’

‘For a while she has had her eyes on a particular Pâtisserie. It’s the most successful bakery in town, mainly thanks to its famous delicacies. I think I took you there once. Anyway, she had the idea of capturing the heart of the owner, who happens to be one of Normann’s closest business partners. And by capturing his heart I mean seducing him.’

‘My friend and confidant, a maid named Vivienne, first told me about their private meetings. The rest of the story wasn’t hard to put together. It was exactly the kind of scheme I’d expect from my mother.’

‘Once I put together what was going on, I decided to step in. Marcel was a good friend to me. He used to give me tarts and slices for free whenever I visited him when I was younger.’

‘I said there was only one way this could end for him.’ She sniffed. ‘As I explained, Esther has tried things like this before. She’d find a way to take control of the business from him and once it was hers she’d abandon him. Then Normann would ultimately find out about what really happened and he’d be furious.’

I pulled her in gently, stroking her hair. Emily’s words flashed back into my mind unwelcomed: her warning about Desdemona. I pushed the thought away.

‘I said Esther didn’t care about him and was only using him to get the restaurant. He seemed to be receptive.’

Fast forward a couple of weeks and I happen to be picking out dresses with Esther when Normann suddenly walks in the room. The rude entrance is quite uncharacteristic of him.

‘I’ve got something to show you,,’ Normann tells her. He’s holding out a box. He’s smiling. Perfectly relaxed, and then – well, then she opens it.’

‘Do you like it?’ He asks.

Dionysia wanders over and peeks inside. She recoils and yells, ‘what the hell is that? Jesus!’

The expression on Esther’s face was more disgusted than anything else. What she saw didn’t horrify her, she’s got a thick skin. But because of their conflicting reactions I didn’t know what to make of what was going on.

Normann pushed the box into her hands, which she nearly dropped on the floor. It was quite uncharacteristic of her to be so flustered.

Desdemona shifted beside me. ‘First he was calm. Then he was full of anger.’

‘I thought we were past these family squabbles!’ He shouts out. ‘You said you wanted to put all this fighting behind us. You lied. Again.’

I got the feeling he was about to snap and do something terrible. But he had already snapped.’ She exhaled. ‘Marcel is dead. And it’s because of me.’

‘What -’

‘I’m not finished,’ she interrupted. ‘I think I’ve figured out how it played out. Marcel tried to call the agreement with Esther off and ended up in a fight with her, which I assume didn’t end well for him. So then he went to Normann and claimed Esther tried to make a deal with him about the Pâtisserie. Normann, paranoid as he is, found out the rest of the truth on his own. I think he had someone search Marcel’s home and discovered the intimate nature of their relationship.’

‘He found out they’d been together. Normann hates being betrayed. Betrayal is like the cardinal sin to him. And he considered Marcel to be family. Thus Normann responded by killing him.’

She turned her face up to look at me. ‘Do you get it now, Tristrian? Do you understand what I’ve done?’

‘You couldn’t have known what was going to happen,’ I assured her.

‘It doesn’t matter.’ She sounded despondent now. ‘I should have thought more about the risks of what I was doing. I mean, I could have just asked Esther to leave him alone. I could have handled it better.’

She wiped tears from the corner of one eye with the side of her hand.

‘You want to know what was in the box? It contained a couple of things. They were gifts and mementos Esther had exchanged with Marcel over some years. There was a Volkov family ring.’ She paused. ‘The ring was caked in blood. Normann claimed it was from the interrogation where he extracted a confession out of him.’

Desdemona shook her head, her eyes wide. ‘In the end all this is your average family drama. This is normal for my family. Not all of them wander off and cut people open the way Normann likes to do, but they all have blood on their hands. I suppose I do too, now.’

‘How long will it take before I turn into one of them?’ She asked, tugging me closer.

‘You couldn’t be less like them,’ I tried to reassure her.

‘You won’t let me become like Normann, will you? You promise?’ She grabbed one of my hands urgently with both of her own.

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Of course.’ I made sure to speak the words with conviction.

She relaxed a bit. I sighed and rested my head down against hers.

‘What if we never find a way to free me?’ She asked after a couple of minutes.

‘We will. We have to.’

She glanced up. ‘We might. We don’t know if it’s truly possible, and even if it is, we have no idea of the cost.’

‘If it doesn’t work, we’ll think of something else. Okay?’ I replied.

I pulled her in and kissed her when she tried to protest.

‘There’s no point wallowing around in guilt – which, by the way, you do not deserve to feel,’ I told her.

I nudged her when she didn’t answer. ‘Hey. Do you think there’s any humanity left in Normann?’

Desdemona hesitated. ‘I want to believe there is. I honestly don’t know.’

‘If there is any chance of redemption left for him and the others, you’re the one who will help them find it. Hey. You might be able to find a way to end this awful cycle of violence in your family.’

She thought about what I’d said. ‘You’re right,’ she said softly. A touch or resolve entered her voice. ‘Thank you.’

She looked at least a little better when she left. Nonetheless, I wondered whether I should have said more.

After Desdemona’s most recent admission I decided it was time to bring up her future again.

‘I was thinking about us getting out of here someday. After you’re free of Cambion’s influence.’

She looked receptive, so I continued carefully.

‘We could build a life for ourselves. Together, Just the two of us. I could take you around the world to all the places I’ve been telling you about. France, Italy, America.’

She frowned. She looked like she was trying to imagine it.

‘You truly want to spend the rest of your life with me?’ She asked.

‘I do,’ I said with certainty. ‘I want to fall in love with you. I want to start a family with you; bloody hell, I’d grow old with you and have kids if that’s what you wanted.’

Her eyes glistened. Her next words were full of emotion. ‘Of course I’d run away with you, Tristrian. There isn’t anyone else I’d rather be with.’

‘There’s so much of the world you deserve to see,’ I murmured, leaning closer and massaging her back. She rested her head on my shoulder in response.

‘Tell me you’ll try the ritual Nailah is looking for. Once you’re free you can live whatever life you want.’

‘If we ever did manage to somehow free me, I’d couldn’t leave without doing the same with my family. I’m sure I could help Esther. And you may not see it but there are times where even Normann shows he’s not all bad.’

‘Okay then. First, we free you from the curse. Then we try to do the same with your family. But at the end of it all, we leave this place forever and go somewhere else together. Just you and I.’

When she met my gaze again, I could tell she’d made up her answer.

‘Yes. Yes, of course.’ She wrapped her arms around my shoulders, laughing. ‘You’re the only one I want to spend my future with! I can’t imagine anything more perfect.’

I had an unexpected visit from Emily two weeks later. She appeared at the door of my uncle’s place appearing fidgety and uncomfortable.

‘Can we talk?’ She hardly waited for an answer, sliding past me into the house.

‘What is it?’

Emily turned around, running a hand through her hair. She took a couple of seconds to compose herself.

‘I said a lot of things about Desdemona and your relationship with her.’

‘Yeah, you did.’

She continued, ‘I see the way you look at her. You become a different kind of person around her, a better person. ‘It scares me how much you’ve grown up this past year.’ She reached out and ruffled my hair, retracting her hand when I gave her an irritated look.

She took a deep breath.

‘I don’t trust her. But – I do trust you. I trust you when you say she has some good in her.’

I scrutinized Emily, trying to assess her sincerity.

‘If you want to be with her – I guess I’m fine with it. Okay?’

‘Really?’

‘I can’t promise to be nice to her. And if I ever see her try to hurt you – ’

‘Yeah, I get it,’ I interrupted. ‘You won’t regret giving her a chance.’

‘God, I hate fighting,’ she admitted.

‘So do I,’ I remarked. ‘So let’s just go back to being friends?’

After a moment, she ran up and embraced me tightly.

‘Thank you,’ I said softly. ‘For this.’

She looked to be struggling for words. ‘If I find out about any useful information pertaining to the  curse, I’ll pass it on to you,’ she promised. ‘I doubt I’ll be much help. But I will help if I can.’

‘What made you change your mind?’ I asked.

‘I got some perspective. I realized how I’d allowed the Goatman to get into my head. He was trying to turn me into someone I don’t want to become – the worst version of myself. And if I didn’t do something I think he would have succeeded.’

She shifted on her feet. ‘I think I might have found a way to get out of my deal with him.’ She held up her hand quickly. ‘I hope so, but I’m not sure if it will work out yet. So don’t let yourself get too excited.’

She pulled something out of her pocket and held it out to me in her hands. ‘Also, Desdemona gave me this. Our father’s locket, the one mom gave him before she died. I don’t know how she got it. I think she might have stolen it.’ She shrugged. ‘It meant a lot to me. Particularly after how I treated her.’

Chapter 13

I couldn’t have placed why, but the next couple of days left me feeling restless and uneasy. Something was coming, I felt. Something which awaited just beyond the horizon. Something significant.

I hadn’t received any more news from Emily about how she was dealing with Imurela, so I was happy to get a call from her as I was walking home from school.

‘Hi,’ she said.

Her voice came off as oddly muted.

‘Hi. What’s going on?’

She didn’t respond immediately.

‘Are you okay?’ I prompted. She sounded – sad, I thought. Almost… Resigned.

She sniffed. ‘Yeah,’ she said quickly. ‘I mean, no, I’m okay. What are you doing?’

I gave her a quick summary of my day. ‘What about you? What’s going on?’ I pressed.

‘I guess I just wanted to hear your voice. One last time,’ she said, after another short stretch of silence.

‘Emily,’ I said, more forcefully. ‘What’s wrong? Where are you?’

‘I’m so sorry,’ the voice on the other end said. ‘I love you, Tris.’ Her voice cracked and the phone abruptly cut off.

I called her back numerous times. More times than I could count. Each time I was greeted by her voicemail.

I called Desdemona next, explaining quickly what happened. By then, reality was starting to unravel around me. Desdemona’s voice sounded faint and surreal in my ears. She tried to reassure me, suggesting a number of explanations for what happened where Emily would be perfectly fine.

I didn’t believe any of them. I didn’t believe Emily was fine.

I tried to keep my voice steady. ‘Please. You have to help me find her.’

Desdemona promised that she would try.

Desdemona called me regularly. She never had any news to offer. She attempted to remain hopeful but after three days with Emily still missing she struggled to keep up the pretense.

Then something unexpected hit the Volkov family. Desdemona called in again early on the morning of the fourth day.

‘The patriarch is dead,’ she said without preamble. ‘He was found dead in his room this morning when a maid went up to check on him.’

‘Oh, shit,’ I whispered. I felt my fingers curl up around the phone.

‘That’s not all,’ she continued. ‘It wasn’t an accident. We don’t know who the killer is, but someone definitely killed him. With poison. A very rare and very expensive, irreversible poison, as I heard.’

She was quiet on the other end for a moment. ‘They’re all at each other’s throats – more than usual. Esther is hardly willing to let me or my siblings out of her sight for fear of what might happen to us.’

‘She says she suspects Nailah, though Nailah was out of town and far away when it happened.

One of the other Volkovs went looking for her but I know Nailah is quite good at staying off the radar. Plus, I doubt they truly believe she could have done it.’

‘Can I help?’ I asked. The question sounded futile to me but I asked it anyway.

‘I’m okay,’ she answered, a little shakily. ‘You need to focus on finding Emily right now, alright? And I’ve got some good news on that front.’

She steadied her breathing and continued, ‘Nailah thinks she knows what happened to Emily and she thought you’d want to help bring her back.’

‘Oh, thank god.’ I felt the knot around my heart loosen slightly. ‘What did she say?’

‘Um. She wouldn’t share the details with me. She says she wants to tell you in person.’ She paused. ‘I do think her disappearance has something to do with Normann.’

The answer shook me, though it wasn’t much of a surprise.

‘You go get her back, but be very careful. And watch out for Nailah, too. She tells me she can keep you safe, but things are always unpredictable when it comes to dealing with Volkovs. Normann most of all.’ She sighed. ‘If it was anyone but your sister I wouldn’t let either of you do this at all.’

‘What about you? What are you going to do?’

‘I can’t do much of anything at the moment,’ she admitted. ‘Esther will hardly let me out of her sight. I’m okay, though. She won’t let anything happen to me.’

Desdemona concluded our conversation by adding, ‘don’t share this information with anyone. Leofric’s death will become public at some point. For now though, my family is keeping it under wraps. And if they found out I told you -’

‘Yeah, of course,’ I said. ‘I won’t speak a word. Take care of yourself, Des.’ I bit my lip. ‘I’m always here if you need someone to talk to.’

‘You too.’

In solemn tones we promised one another to be safe. I hung up on her struggling with a concoction of hope, anticipation and dread.

I caught up with Nailah a couple of hours later.

‘Tell me you can help her,’ I said breathlessly.

Silently, she pulled me closer, urging me away from the other people on the street. ‘I can,’ she said.

She elaborated once we were safely out of earshot of passers by.

‘Emily vanishing wasn’t an accident. It was staged to look like one. By Normann.’

‘Do you have any idea what happened to her?’ I asked quickly.

She was blunt and to the point. ‘They intend to use her as a sacrifice for Cambion.’

A little shock ran through me. ‘When?’ I demanded.

‘Tomorrow night. We’re going to help her.’

‘These kinds of rituals are quite rare,’ she explained. ‘Most of their offerings are animals, like deer they’ve hunted and captured. Only in cases of great significance do they rely on human sacrifices.’

She continued, ‘They want to know who killed Leofric and who should be the successor. Which means a divination ritual, which requires a lot of power.’

‘A divination ritual occurs in three phases. The preparation, the conducting of the ritual and then interpreting what they see in the fire. The rules are very specific about how it’s done. They have to be followed to the letter.’

‘Breaking those rules during the ritual will hurt them. It should give you the time you need to rescue Emily and escape.’

She took in an uneasy breath.

‘I’ve decided to allow you to come – because it’s your sister. And because I don’t know if I can do this on my own. But you’re going to do exactly what I say. And if you don’t listen to what I say? You won’t make it through the night and neither will she.’

‘Why don’t we go help her now? You’re talking about waiting until the last moment. What will happen if we’re too late?’ I protested.

‘We won’t be. You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.’

‘But -’

‘How we rescue Emily isn’t up for negotiation,’ Nailah interrupted. ‘Do you want to help her or not?’

I shut my mouth.

‘Another thing. Once she’s rescued she needs to get out of town. Rashida – my mother – has agreed to offer her refuge. She wants something in return though. She wants to ask Emily what she knows about Normann’s plans.’

‘Okay.’ I ran a hand through my hair. ‘We can worry about that when she’s safe. When is the ritual?’ I asked.

‘Tomorrow night,’ she replied. ‘We’ll meet here again and we’ll get her back for you.’

Chapter 14

The following day passed by much too slowly. Restlessness drove me to a point near madness.

I contemplated calling Desdemona. In the end I did, but she didn’t answer. She left a short text message telling me it wasn’t a good time to talk.

Nailah told me to meet her at a quiet spot near the outskirts of town. The sun was just beginning to set when I arrived, bathing the street in a warm swathe of blood orange.

She paused briefly to inspect me.

I’d worn black, thinking it would be best suited for avoiding attention. At Nailah’s request, I’d also brought a couple of other items for the trip: a flare gun, a rudimentary first aid kit, and some pepper spray. Nailah said she really hoped we wouldn’t need to use any of them.

I’d also brought the switchblade Desdemona gave me.

The initial part of our journey was a short drive out of town, deep into the forest. Nailah parked the car at the dead end of a gravel road, got out and opened the door for me.

‘We’re walking?’ I asked.

She rolled her eyes. ‘What did you expect? They’re not going to have the ritual site anywhere someone might just stumble across it. Particularly since it’s already happened once.’

‘Once we’ve rescued Emily, I’ll take us back here. There’s a road which circles around this whole area you will reach if you walk far enough east. Follow the road toward the mountains and you’ll find the car. You shouldn’t get lost unless you’re an idiot.’

She really has this all planned out, I thought. It made me feel hopeful.

She tossed me something. ‘Keys to my car,’ she explained. ‘Just in case… Something happens.’ She looked away pointedly as I opened my mouth. I was lost for words. Nailah hardly cared, though. ‘Are you ready?’ She asked.

‘Will Desdemona be there?’

She shook her head. ‘These kinds of rituals are participated in only by initiated members of the family. Desdemona will be kept somewhere far away.’

Since passing the time talking seemed preferable to making the journey in silence I tried to keep the conversation alive between us.

‘What is your relationship with the Volkovs like?’ I asked as we headed downhill into the woods.

‘You claimed it was difficult?’

Nailah glanced at me. She took her time in responding.

‘My mother has been a black sheep in our lineage for a long time – since before she got exiled by them. She was cast out after they learned she was what they considered a bastard. You see Leofric had an affair with someone who wasn’t initiated by blood rite into the family. She got pregnant. The Patriarch somehow managed to fool everyone into thinking the child belonged to his legitimate wife. When the truth came out about her forty years later, everyone despised the child. After enough pressure, Leofric caved and decreed his bastard child be cast out of the family. My father persuaded him to allow me, Rashida’s daughter, to stay. He was well respected. And I guess me being only the daughter of a bastard was acceptable enough for them.’

‘Now she has a vendetta against the Volkovs. After Edward’s passing she went a bit crazy for a while. Once we’d grieved and she came to her senses she was more angry than ever. She made a vow of retribution against the other Volkovs. She has ten times the fury of Emily.’

She changed the subject abruptly. ‘How are you and Dessie going?’

The question took me by surprise. An awkward silence ensued as I collected my thoughts.

Nailah watched me speak the way Emily did sometimes when I’d talked about Desdemona – almost enviously.

‘You really do bring out something special in her,’ she commented. ‘Before she met you I feared she was destined to lose her soul to Cambian.’

She looked down. ‘I didn’t think much of you when I first saw you. Not until I started to notice the way Desdemona changed whenever she was around you.’

She leapt gracefully off the small, rocky slope of a little hill ahead of me. I followed suit, tripping slightly in the process.

‘I wish I could find with someone what you share with her,’ I heard her say. She sounded sad. ‘I don’t think I ever will, though.’

‘Why can’t you?’

‘It’s complicated.’ The way she said it made me hesitant to prod further.

‘Has there been any news about the thing that happened?’ I decided to ask instead.

She looked at me questioningly.

‘Leofric dying,’ I clarified.

‘Oh,’ she said, uneasily. ‘Right.’

‘I understand if you can’t discuss it,’ I added. ‘I was just curious – Desdemona didn’t say much.’

‘Things have been very chaotic since the Patriarch died,’ Nailah commented. ‘Everyone suspects each other. But they’re avoiding getting into a fight about it.’

‘Roman and his son left for somewhere else to stay. Esther has made it her mission to figure out who exactly killed the Patriarch. She won’t let her children out of her sight. The mansion is under her legal ownership at the moment.

They all have agreed to hold the perpetrator accountable – to make sure they pay the price. There won’t be an official trial. My family has their own methods of dealing justice.’

She shivered. ‘I pray whoever they pick out is actually guilty of the crime.’

She elaborated, ‘the chance they’ll find who really did it questionable. The last time a Patriarch was killed was over four hundred years ago. There were two near simultaneous assassination attempts on the man. Two of the three perpetrators responsible ended up getting away with it. We only realized the fact quite recently, when Edward was tasked with re-evaluating the case.’

‘He brought out the truth during an extensive investigation requested by the patriarch. He set the story straight as to what truly happened.’

Nailah’s eyes became distant. ‘It didn’t matter much anymore, though. Everyone involved was long dead.’

She spoke more of her father as the reddish sky darkened and faded into a midnight blue.

‘Edward was the kind of person who would never work with Normann. Perhaps if he was, he might still be alive right now. It’s something I struggle to come to peace with.’

She sighed. ‘It sucks. Waking up every morning and remembering he’s gone. It’s like I’m reliving the experience of losing him over and over again a little bit each day. Some days are less bad than others but god, the nights always suck.’

I spoke up. ‘Sometimes I still have nightmares about what happened to my parents. During them, I relive the night I learned about my father’s death. I remember everything during those hours so clearly. I was there for my mother’s passing and I recall it just as well.’

She opened her mouth, then closed it again. ‘I console myself with lies about how I’ll see them again after I die. You’re lucky you’re not consigned to where I’m doomed to go. The reality is, I’m going to some kind of hell some day. Just like the rest of the Volkovs.’

‘God, being a part of my family sucks. I try to imagine what it would be like sometimes to be one of those normal kids at school, blissfully oblivious to all the secrets of this town. If I allow myself to consider it for too long, I get depressed.’

‘You can’t think like that,’ I protested. ‘We can save Des, and we can save you too. Right?’

Her response was reluctant.

‘Right. Yes, you might save me from the Volkov curse, but my fate will still be the same.’ She broke off and then finished, ‘there are things I am going to do which will doom my soul forever.’

‘My mother – she desires retribution against the entire Volkov family. She won’t stop until she sees them all burn in fire and blood. She has sworn as much to me personally, over the grave of Edward.’

‘I have come up with a plan to stop her committing an unspeakable act that I know she won’t be able to forgive herself for later. It means I must do something terrible in her place.’

I didn’t know how to respond to her. Thankfully, I don’t think Nailah wanted me to.

‘My father – Normann killed him,’ she said abruptly. ‘As I’ve learned recently. I wasn’t surprised when I found out.’

‘Do you know why?’ I asked.

‘Not yet. But I’m working on it. I suspect it has a connection to what Emily was looking into.

Normann has something planned, and he doesn’t want anyone else knowing about it.’

She looked back briefly and slowed down to allow me to catch up to her.

Over the next couple of minutes I kept thinking about the things Nailah said. There was a sense of finality she carried with her which I didn’t like.

‘Nailah,’ I called.

‘Huh?’

‘I think I deserve to be let in on whatever your plan is,’ I prompted.

‘I’ve told you our plan,’ she said without looking back. ‘Your job is to get Emily out and escape.’

‘And what about you?’

She replied in a weary voice. ‘Once you get Emily, you run. Don’t hesitate, don’t wait for me. That’s the plan, alright?’

‘But -’

‘Remember what I said? You don’t call the shots here, I do. So shut up and do as I say.’

I was still trying to think of something else to say when I noticed the trees thinning out ahead of us.

‘Live a happy life with Desdemona, okay?’ She asked, suddenly half turning around. We were nearing the steep end to the treeline and the edge of a broad meadow. ‘Take care of her for me.’

‘Nailah, we’re going to get out of this,’ I called back.

‘We are,’ she agreed. She didn’t look back this time, continuing forward into the gloom.

The meadow was different from the clearing Dionysia took me to. The lighting was the most evident change. Where that previous night the forest was enveloped in a gentle, dark blue hue and a thin layer or drifting fog, tonight was clearer and the gloom surrounding me was  tinged with red. The trees were different, too. Instead of oaks and beeches there were firs and pines interspersed with bushes tangled up with snaking vines.

The area was empty except for some stacks of wood piled up in a small pyramid shape some distance from us. It would have looked innocent if I didn’t understand what the wood was going to be used for later.

Nailah pulled me to a stop, placing a finger on her lips.

‘We go no further,’ she said softly. ‘I don’t think they’re here yet. But we have to play it safe.’

We circled the clearing, skirting cautiously along the edges of the trees. The place was eerie, lonely and entirely empty. Nailah looked relieved, though she only relaxed once we’d walked around the entire clearing, which took us around twenty minutes.

Afterward, Nailah took me to the northernmost tip of the area, the tallest point of a hill which overlooked the glade. There she laid out what I was supposed to do.

Her instructions were simple, I was relieved to hear. Actually, her plan sounded almost easy.

The riskiest part was our escape once we retrieved Emily, where we would have only a brief window of time to get a head start on the Volkovs before they came after us.

‘And now, we wait,’ she declared. ‘They should be here in the next hour or two. We may have to be patient.’

They came earlier than Nailah expected. Their arrival was marked by a row of glimmering lights which decorated the surrounding forest in wildly dancing shadows.

I recognized Normann first, then Esther and Roman behind him. I couldn’t have guessed there was any tension between them. Normann and Esther hardly acknowledged one another at all, and Roman wore a strangely serene appearance.

They were focused and coordinated. They moved to circle the clearing – one person toward either side of it and the third down the middle. Each individual sprinkled something underneath them as they walked – salt, as Nailah had explained.

They took their time with the preparations. The salting of the ground took twenty minutes at least. When they were done with that they began placing a set of medium sized stones into a pentagram shape around the bonfire. I saw them each pause in what appeared to be a brief prayer once they finished this task.

Then I spotted Emily. She was guided in by a woman I didn’t recognize, who was holding her hand to the small of her back to urge her on. Once she reached Esther and the others, the woman nodded to them. After exchanging a few brief words with them, she melted back into the forest the way she came.

Nailah reached out to grip my hand hard. I had to bite my lip to stop myself from making a sound.

Emily was limping. Her clothes were torn and dirty, her hair filthy. There was a horrifying kind of lifelessness in her steps. When I saw her, I was scared to imagine of what she went through during the days she spent in imprisonment.

‘Not yet,’ Nailah hissed at me sharply. ‘Don’t you dare move until I tell you to.’

We didn’t have to wait long. Roman stepped forward with a somewhat withered, bible sized book in his hands, which he reverently opened with one hand. The words he spoke rose and fell along with the wind carrying them over to me. They were in Latin and thus were as incomprehensible to me as the symbols he proceeded to draw on the largest of the stone effigies in front of him.

For this he used his own blood, which came from a cut he drew by closing a fist around the athame and yanking it upward.

‘It’s about to start,’ Nailah whispered urgently. Roman continued to read from the book, his voice getting louder with each verse. Nailah urged me along the edge of the trees, her steps quickening. We were in the middle of moving when the next stage of the ritual commenced.

One by one they switched their flashlights off. After the last one flickered into blackness, a flame sprung into existence, tiny and barely visible. The match was slowly lowered to the ground and held there until more flames began to spread amongst the stack of wood and sticks.

Nailah touched my shoulder in a single, silent gesture.

It was time.

My heart sped up in my chest.

I moved as quietly as I could over to a pair of crude, clay effigies closest to me; the bottoms of which had been shoved down deep into the soft earth. I kept looking up at the shadowy figures of the family as they slowly circled the bonfire, waiting for them to take notice of me.

‘Knock them over,’ Emily had instructed me. ‘Pick them up and throw them away if you can. Break the lines of salt on the ground, too. Don’t take too long – no more than a minute at most. Then run like hell for Emily.’

I picked one up. The moment the stone left the ground I felt an electric shock shoot up through my arm. I nearly dropped the fetish in surprise. I caught myself, readjusted my grip and threw the stone away into the darkness as hard as I could.

‘Screwing with one of their rituals, particularly a powerful one, will take its toll on them. Though only temporarily. You have a small window of time to get a head start on them before they recover and come after you. Do not waste it.’

You, she’d said. Not us.

Moments after hurling the stones the Volkovs each started to scream. The shrieks I heard that night were utterly inhuman, yet I was sure they came from them – as sure as I was when I listened to Dionysia, who’d made a similar sound before she left me to my fate.

With an increasing urgency, I searched for the lines of sand on the ground Nailah had described. I ended up kicking at the dirt at random until I was lucky enough to spot one of them in the moonlight. Then I was scrambling toward Emily, shouting out her name.

‘Once you have her -’ Nailah instructed, ‘run like hell for the car. Go by yourself if you have to. You can’t risk waiting for me.’

Emily was tied up against a tree with her head hanging down near the bonfire.

I ran over to help her. Desdemona’s switchblade, sharp as ever, worked through the ropes easily. I don’t think the Volkovs had made too much of an effort to keep her down. From the look of it, she wasn’t about to go running off anywhere.

Emily stirred a little as I worked, tilting her chin up to look at me. She didn’t seem to recognize me at first. When I attempted to lift her off the ground, her weight sagged against me and I nearly dropped her.

‘Emily!’ I cried. I slapped her. ‘Emily, wake the hell up!’

Emily croaked out in protest, but she allowed me to pull her arm around my shoulder. She coughed and wheezed in a shallow breath and together we began to limp toward the trees, one shaky step at a time.

I’d nearly forgotten about Nailah while I was helping Emily. Only as we were approaching the edge of the clearing did I remember. I spun around in a panic, searching for her.

‘Nailah!’ I shouted.

She turned. She was standing before the three prone Volkovs. She held a blade in her hand. It was another athame, nearly identical to the one Roman was using earlier, but noticeably longer and larger. She hardly reacted when I shouted her name, so I called out again.

She turned slightly. ‘Go,’ she snarled. ‘Take Emily and get out of here!’

‘You can’t kill Esther,’ I cried. ‘You know what that would do to Desdemona.’

‘They all have to die,’ she screamed back.

She didn’t wait for a reply. ‘Run’, Nailah yelled. ‘RUN!’ She turned around again to face Normann, who was struggling to his knees, and began to close the small distance between them.

Emily started moving first. She seemed to have stirred somewhat out of her stupor. She began tugging at me urgently until she had my attention.

The last I ever saw of Nailah was the single time I glanced back. She was grappling with Normann on the ground. One of the three of them must have tripped her. Both of them were reaching for something, the same knife Nailah had been stalking toward them with moments earlier.

I never saw who got to it first.

I could have returned to help her. But Emily was already urging me toward the trees and I couldn’t quite bring myself to turn back. In the end, I made the decision to leave Nailah behind.

Two more minutes passed before I heard someone let out a piercing, heart wrenching scream.

When she screamed again, I stopped.

‘It’s too late now,’ Emily cried. ‘We need to keep going.’

I’d made the wrong decision.

Not more than a minute later, the quiet of the woods was broken by a different voice.

‘Run faster, little lambs!’ It called out in the blackness. ‘I do love a little chase.’

I tried to run. But with Emily, it just wasn’t possible.

Whatever burst of adrenaline got her moving didn’t last long. I frequently needed to stop to allow Emily to catch her breath. We never paused for long, but the noises of pursuit grew closer every time. And every movement we made caused sounds of cracks and rustling to mark our passage.

Emily was emaciated. She was also dragging one of her legs behind her. It was twisted around in a wrong way. I couldn’t see much in the darkness, but what I did make out left me surprised she was able to walk on it at all.

As we paused at the crest of a small hill, she just about collapsed into me. Her body shook uncontrollably as she tried to catch her breath.

‘This is hopeless,’ she choked out. ‘You’re going to get yourself killed.’

She took in a deep, shuddering breath. ‘Just go. Leave me here – maybe I can escape on my own. It’ll be harder for them if they have to chase both of us down individually.’

‘Are you kidding?’ I hissed. ‘After all me and Nailah went through to save you? No way!’ I shook her. ‘You can’t give up. I won’t let you.’

I thought she was going to refuse. ‘I think I can go a little further,’ she whimpered instead.

We started moving again. We hadn’t gone on for more than another minute before something tripped Emily and sent us both sprawling.

‘I would like to keep this going on a bit longer. But I have to make sure one of you dies by midnight.’

It was Normann. He yanked up Emily’s arm as I reached out for her.

I screamed in frustration. Another pair of hands closed around me and my scream ended in a gasp.

I pulled out the switchblade and attempted to swing it at Normann. He caught my arm with his own and extracted the knife from my hand. It all took only a couple seconds.

‘A noble attempt,’ he observed, tossing the blade onto the ground. I could feel a rough, firm grip tightening around my neck. ‘You made it further than I thought you would.’

He turned and began walking.

It took us little time to return to the bonfire. By then it was roaring and crackling with energy, the flames ascending unnaturally high into the sky.

Emily turned her head to stare at me with a pleading expression in her eyes. It made my heart hurt for her.

‘You should have listened when I first spoke to you,’ Normann said idly. He was looking at Emily. ‘You could have left this town alive, completely forgotten about our world. Look at where you’ve gotten yourself instead.’

He shook his head. ‘And you?’ He glanced at me. ‘You were asking to die by coming here tonight. What were you thinking?’

I looked around for Nailah. She was nowhere to be found. I thought the grass looked discolored where she’d been struggling with the Volkovs earlier, but it was too dark to be sure of anything.

‘She isn’t going to save you,’ Normann said, noticing where my head was turned. ‘No one is. There’s no happy ending for you. Not now.’

Chapter 15

Roman was painting something of Emily’s face; an unrecognizable, abstract symbol using her blood, which his hands were dripping wet with. He’d made a deep cut across her left upper arm. It was bleeding heavily.

Meanwhile, Esther was trying to get Normann’s attention. ‘I saved you back there,’ she reminded him. Nailah was about to use that knife to gut you.’

‘I noticed,’ Normann replied without looking at her.

‘Normann,’ she said. ‘I am not asking for forgiveness. Only another chance.’

I was struggling to stay conscious at that point. Only fear for myself and for Emily kept me from slipping off into oblivion.

‘How very sweet of you,’ Normann replied. ‘But as long as I suspect you were behind the killing of our dead patriarch, there won’t be any kind of reconciliation between us.’

‘I’m not giving up on us,’ she pressed.

Normann didn’t respond. Roman finished his work and nodded to him. Normann gently brushed Emily’s matted hair out of her face. Then he straightened and strode over to me.

Emily was dragged toward the bonfire. Normann forced me to my knees.

‘You’re going to watch as she dies,’ he murmured into my ear, ‘knowing you were too weak to save her.’ He lifted his head up and gave a hysterical laugh.

The rest happened quite fast. There were words spoken by Roman, words of the ancestors of the family who had migrated to Avalon a thousand years ago and how they met the creature called Cambion. He told of the original pact they made with it.

Next he spoke of them conquering the evil demon and living off of its power, channeling it to do as they desired.

And then Roman said in a clear, ringing voice, ‘Now, with this sacrifice, we call for the power of Cambion.  We invoke the rights of blood, bone, fire and ice, life and death. We summon forth our lord from within his black prison!’

I stiffened as Emily was dragged forward by Roman. Everything slowed down. I briefly considered closing my eyes, but such an act seemed cowardly and weak.

Normann stood to the side next to Esther, watching. Unlike the others, he didn’t feel the need to gaze into the fire or murmur words of prayer. He was staring at me instead. Smiling.

Emily screamed. She was crying, struggling frantically against Roman.

Roman halted right next to the fire, yanking Emily up by her hair. Normann diverted his attention from me and approached her with predatory grace. He kneeled down beside her, then turned to look at me again. His eyes gleamed in the blackness of the night.

In the next moments I watched as Normann slowly slid the athame deep into the side of her neck and pulled it sideways with a swift flick of his wrist. Emily’s eyes opened wide and her whole body tensed.

I held her gaze as I watched the life drain from her, trying to convey through it some kind of meaningful comfort. I thought I saw a final tear run down her cheek before her head lolled slowly to the side and her body relaxed.

‘Why? What did she do to you?’

My voice was hoarse. It sounded strange in my own ears.

Normann tilted his head back. He was grinning stupidly as he stared into the sky. He ignored me.

‘Roman. What did you see?’ Esther called out.

Roman raised a hand without looking at her. He was still staring into the crackling flames, mesmerized by something invisible to me.

After close to a minute, he stirred. Normann called out his name and repeated Esther’s question.

He replied slowly. ‘I saw nothing conclusive about Leofric’s murder.’ He turned away from the bonfire to face the other two.

‘And as for the succession,’ he added as Esther opened her mouth, ‘I do have an answer for that. As we know, Leofric’s murderer stole the family crown. Whoever finds the crown and returns it to us is destined to be the next patriarch. This act will prove them worthy of being Leofric’s successor.’

A brooding silence followed his words as each of the Volkovs contemplated this revelation: Normann with a slow, machinating smile, Esther a suspicious frown and Roman by raising his head to stare up at the stars in wordless contemplation.

Normann raised his voice.

‘Our sacrifice tonight may not have answered all our questions, but it has shown me the way forward for us.’

‘We will go forth with the mourning ceremony to honor Leofric’s passing at the moon’s turn. We already have another offering.’

He glanced down at me. ‘You should be honored. You’ve been chosen as a sacrifice to something much greater than yourself.’

‘Take him back to the manor,’ Normann spoke to Roman. He glanced at where Emily was still slumped over. ‘I’ll carry what’s left of her there. Let her rot in a cell with him.’ He laughed again. He still didn’t look to be quite over the high Emily’s murder had sent him into.

‘It will be my pleasure,’ Roman said. His voice was polite and unamused.

I let out a single half hearted, choked sob. I didn’t offer up any further resistance as they dragged me away. There wasn’t any point. Normann had been right about what he said. I’d failed Emily completely. Perhaps I deserved whatever awaited me next.

Roman took me somewhere underground, past an overgrown graveyard and into the undercroft of a long unused church sitting just beyond the walls of the manor gardens.

There I spent an unknown stretch of time. I alternated between staring at Emily’s body and trying my best not to look at her. Here and there I passed out for a bit and dreamed of the moments where I was forced to watch her die. These memories haunted me as mercilessly as the recollections of my parents’ deaths had for years.

The time spent inside the cell stretched on into a small eternity. There was no way of measuring its passing from within. I don’t think I could have been in there for more than a day or two but it felt more like a week at the time.

The cell was cold – uncomfortably so, and equally damp. Perhaps had I been in a more lucid state those details might have bothered me. As it was I was only vaguely aware of my filthy and shivering body.

I faded periodically in and out of reality. Whenever the sight and then smell of Emily became too much to deal with I allowed myself to drift into oblivion, only to be startled back into wakefulness by the haunted fever dreams of my subconscious.

During one of the moments in between states of awareness and restless unconsciousness, I came to realize Emily wasn’t lying on the floor anymore. With this realization, clarity returned to me. I scrambled up, looking about the room. I spotted someone lounging against the door.

It was Emily. I couldn’t believe it. For a moment, I thought she’d come back to me.

But the girl wasn’t really Emily. I could tell that immediately from the dead look in her eyes. She was as lifeless as she had been as her body twitched and shook in the midst of rigor mortis, minutes or possibly hours ago.

‘Am I dreaming?’ I asked dully.

‘Do you think you are?’ She asked in return.

I didn’t. Yet neither could I find an explanation for what I was looking at as I struggled to rationalize it.

A few passages from Anne’s blog made their way into my mind. They spoke of a creature which could take the shape of anyone or anything it desired, wearing them like a skin.

‘Who are you?’

She considered my question for a moment before answering.

‘I am – I used to be – Imurela. Now I am known as the Deceiver. I have a proposition for you.’

I stared at the figure. It’s not Em, I reminded myself. She’s gone, she’s somewhere better.’

It was like Anne wrote. The Deceiver didn’t merely adopt the appearance of its victims but also their personality and mannerisms. It imitated them perfectly.

‘Will you hear me out?’ she asked.

‘Haven’t we already made a deal?’ My voice came out in a hoarse croak.

‘You remembered.’ She sounded appreciative. ‘You’re correct. And as part of our agreement, I can make you do whatever I want.’

She raised her hands, palms up to either side of her. ‘I can be nice, or I can be mean. And for the moment I am looking for your voluntary cooperation.’

For a moment the room started to spin slowly, lazily around me. I wondered if I should allow myself to pass out, be this vision real or not. Did it really matter?

Then I remembered Desdemona. I thought about who’d killed the Patriarch and wondered if she could be next. Then I thought again of the future she faced if someone didn’t pry her from the clutches of her evil family.

Desdemona needed me.

‘I suppose I’ll hear what you have to say,’ I found myself agreeing. I laughed hollowly. ‘What else am I going to do down here?’

Emily laughed too. The sound was unsettling, perhaps the first thing about her which seemed truly alien.

‘So what did you want to discuss with me?’ I went on to ask slowly.

Emily responded to my question with one of her own. ‘Do you know about Cambion?’

My mind returned to the picture Emily had shown me of the two brothers kneeling before a dark and foreboding alien shadow.

‘Yes, I know of him.’

‘Do you believe in him?’

I stopped to think about it.

‘I guess I don’t know what to believe anymore,’ I admitted.

‘All legends are real in Avalon,’ Emily declared.

‘Why is Cambion important to you?’ I asked.

‘You want to know what I want from you. Why am I here,’ Emily said patiently. ‘This is me explaining it to you.’

Emily paused her pacing and turned toward me. In little more than a moment she had shifted to kneeling beside where I sat.

She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. Before I could struggle, she had placed her other palm, fingers splayed out, against my forehead.

My vision flashed white. I jerked reflexively and yelled out something. Shadows engulfed my vision. They stole away my little world inside the cell with their arrival, and they left me with nothing.

Everything was gone except for Emily, whose voice I could hear in the darkness. Yet as she spoke, silent silhouettes formed and danced lazily around me. These abstract shapes moved through a drifting veil of mist which had coalesced around my knees.

It was much colder than it had been seconds before. And given how cold it was before, now I was shivering uncontrollably.

‘Cambion, their supposed god, hasn’t convened with the family for more than seven hundred years.’ Emily said, her voice an indiscernible distance from me.

The mist cleared and the darkness abated somewhat. The cold dulled with it, though it lingered enough to keep me shivering.

‘Desmdemona told you how the Volkovs bargained with Cambion for power. She doesn’t know the whole story, only the very first part of it.’

‘After their initial bargain the family spent two hundred and thirty two years building their empire. Back in those days Avalon was sustained off of rich iron and tin mines. It was also a trading hub for furs and pretty gemstones, operating under the watchful eyes of the Volkovs.

For a century or so it seemed as if their fortunes would never end. But over time, their fortunes did wane and times became increasingly difficult. They would always go to Cambion for help, but the demon began demanding increasingly steep prices for the favors it granted.

One of the worst trials they faced was the long and severe winter in 1217. It left terrible famine and sickness in its wake.

Like they had become accustomed to doing, the family turned to Cambion for a solution. This time it asked for the greatest favor yet: a sacrifice from the newest generation of children in the family.

For the first time ever they decided to refuse him. They’d already sacrificed more than enough of their own to the god at its behest, and never before had it demanded a newborn as an offering.’

‘They begged him for another way. Cambion told them to come back when they were ready to prove their devotion to him. And so the long winter continued – and it got worse. Another month and people were starving, sick and fighting one another for scraps of food. Avalon was on the precipice of destruction.’

‘Discontent rose within the family. There was a fervent group of Volkovs who disagreed with letting the child live. They thought they needed to follow through with Cambion’s demands for the survival of the town.

A fight broke out. It nearly tore the Volkov family apart. There was a fair bit of murder and coercing on either side. In the end however, those in favor of sacrificing the child were killed and publicly denounced.

Dimitri, the collective’s leader, was one of a small number who escaped. Not long after their supposed victory, he stole the child away in secret with the help of some townsfolk and sacrificed him to Cambion.

When the others found out, he faced a terrible retribution. Despite knowing this, Dimitri let the Volkovs take him. ‘I have no regrets,’ he said to them. ‘I’d do it again.’ He was just trying to do what had to be done for the greater good of the people of Avalon.

Retaliation against Dimitri wasn’t enough for the Volkovs. The real perpetrator of the crime wasn’t him. In the end, they would be expected to continue making whatever sacrifices they demanded to appease them by Cambion. And like Cambion said, the demon always got what it wanted eventually.

Initially they searched for a way to kill their overlord, but they weren’t ready to give up all their power. It was like a drug to them which they’d been addicted to since birth. They were dependent on it to survive. Another solution was necessary.’

The scene around me changed. Now, I was watching the funeral of a child no older than ten. He was surrounded by six solemn figures. The sight was real enough for me to reach out to try to touch the boy on the shoulder from where he lay on a stack of burning hay, but Emily stopped me. She stepped out from the foggy edges of the scene and an invisible force shoved me backwards. As I was struggling to regain my balance, the mist enshrouded the both of us once again.

When my vision returned to me, we were witnesses to something different. This event played out at a vaguely familiar Celtic ruin.

I watched as a woman in a long dress rose up in the air and was physically crushed by an invisible force. I looked away as blood fountained from her body in all directions, raising my hands to shield my face instinctively as it sprayed around me. Emily didn’t acknowledge my cry of horror.

‘The Volkovs assembled together a myriad of allies from across the world. Close friends who owed them favors. Allies they’d made during their travels and enemies who’d become their vassals. Among these were powerful witches, cultists of forgotten gods, holy warriors of God, and some beings more ancient and powerful than themselves.’

I surveyed the small crowd, which consisted of women and men in all kinds of clothing. Some held weapons, others had their hands raised out in prayer.

In the center of the loose circle they formed together whipped a howling storm of smoke and fire which rose into the air and spread out tendrils of sickly, red light into the sky. Above it all loomed an impossibly tall and skeletal figure which stared down at the little crowd with an intense loathing. His eyes were infinite pits of blackness, and what might have been his mouth gaped impossibly wide as if it were an entrance into hell itself.

As I watched the scene unfold, the sounds in it – screams, wails and chanting –  were muted as if they were being played through some earphones as they were held inches away from me. Despite the fact I still wanted to cover my ears to block out the unearthly noises.

Emily gestured grandly to the ungodly scene in front of us. ‘With the assistance of each of these individuals they managed a seemingly impossible feat. Upon that cursed and bloody night, the demon was imprisoned.’

A scream tore through the night, so awful and twisted it forced me to my knees and extracted from me a haunted cry of my own. Emily continued to speak, entirely indifferent.

‘The location of Cambions imprisonment became an abandoned and desecrated place in the midst of forest and mountains. I believe you today call it Toirmisgte, the place where nobody walks.

Where even my brother and I avoid venturing to.’

‘After it was done, the Volkovs systematically killed each and every person involved in the ritual and destroyed all evidence of it they could find. They did their best to erase the event from history. Only the most powerful and elite of the family knew about it and they were sworn to secrecy. For what few beings involved which were too powerful for them to kill, they offered great gifts or favors to ensure their secrecy.’

‘That slaughter of so many of their friends and allies was the greatest betrayal the family ever committed,’ she stated. Notably, Emily didn’t say it like it was such a bad thing.

‘They Volkovs had done it, this seemingly impossible feat of defeating a god. All that was left was make sure knowledge of Cambion’s imprisonment continued to remain secret.

But the secret was never as secure as they’d thought. Of the thirty eight individuals the Volkovs needed dead, only thirty four were found and killed. Fedor, who’d been tasked with tracking the survivors who’d gone into hiding, searched for years but a couple of them continued to elude his grasp. In the end he decided to lie about their fate, convinced they posed no threat to the family.

‘For the centuries since the Volkovs have had a parasitic relationship with Cambion. Their rituals draw on his essence from the bowels of the earth where he is chained up. They suck on his lifeblood like little leeches. They can’t quite replicate the abilities they used to wield, but it is enough. Cambion exists in a state of constant torment, and the family are allowed to keep their precious powers.’

The mist returned again, as did the full force of the cold. I began shaking uncontrollably as Emily circled around me. She was only half visible in the dimness.

‘Let’s fast forward,’ she suggested. ‘To a time three centuries ago. Give or take a decade or two – Normann was born. His sister, Esther, and two brothers Roman and Viktor were born a total of thirteen years apart. Normann was the eldest of the four.’

Emily considered for a moment, then corrected herself. ‘Leofric had five children technically, but his affair with Rashida’s mother took place some decades later.’

Another vision. This time it was of a younger boy who I could only surmise was Normann. He was wearing a plait, dirty white shirt and sipping from a crude, ceramic cup.

‘I recall him being humble and quiet as a young boy. Unlike young Esther and Roman, he was patient and didn’t rush to impulsive decisions. They were close once, much different from how they are together now.’

She grimaced slightly. ‘As you know, this closeness didn’t last forever. Families are fragile things; they all break sooner or later. Even the closest ones.’ She paused. ‘Two hundred years ago, Normann’s family betrayed him.’

The vision changed again. A slightly more recognizable version of Normann with shorter hair came into view. He was holding hands with a girl in a nightgown who had long, tousled orange locks of hair and freckled skin.

‘Normann fell in love with a maiden from the local church, the most beautiful woman in town and the daughter of two wealthy Avars who’d recently befriended the Volkovs.

She happened to be the same woman both of his brothers lusted over. She’d rejected each of them, leaving them angry at her and jealous of Normann.

They decided if they couldn’t have her then no one could. Especially not Normann.

A younger version of Esther, Roman and one man I guessed to be Viktor took the place of Normann and his lover. They were sitting around a fireplace inside an older version of the Volkov manor, speaking quietly and intensely.

‘Esther was the closest to Normann at the time. She was the most reluctant of all of them to go against their brother, but she agreed to join them in the end. You see, she went through her own quarrel with him. The result of another love affair- one which Normann broke up when he found out what the man’s intentions were.’

‘Together they concocted a carefully crafted lie framing the girl’s parents for a plot against the Volkovs and pretended to help their father uncover it. Then they suggested as revenge that their father should offer up the Avar’s daughter at the next ritual sacrifice.’

‘When Normann learned about his father’s decision, he protested. At first, he begged Leofric to be merciful to the girl. When he  remained adamant, Norman threatened to hurt him.

‘His insolence made Leofric furious. When it was time for them to go through with the sacrifice Leofric overpowered and imprisoned Normann to stop him from interfering.’

The figure of Normann slowly reformed in the mist, this time prostrated on the ground. He was holding the redheaded girl as if to shield her from the flames raging behind her. The vision lingered for a few moments before fading.

Emily explained, ‘He escaped from his prison. He dove into the flames of that raging bonfire and pulled her out. But he was not in time to save her.’

An unsteady image of Normann, Roman, Esther, and the unfamiliar brother coalesced in front of us.

‘Normann’s hate-blinded siblings did not understand the gravity of their betrayal,’ she spoke softly. ‘Until they experienced the fallout of their crime.’

‘Normann swore to take away everything they held dear. To one day destroy each of them. After that he left them, fleeing with what remained of Valerya’s body. Leofric told his children to leave Normann be, claiming he would come crawling back to them soon enough.’

‘Following was fifty years of conflict within the family which ended with the death of Viktor by the hands of Normann, and then the subsequent imprisonment of Normann at the hands of his siblings and father. The imprisonment involved stabbing him with a specially crafted dagger created by them after Viktors death which caused him unimaginable amounts of torment. It was the kind of retribution he earned for killing their brother. They told themselves that, anyway.’

Emily raised her voice. ‘Imagine this: pieces of a blade slowly forcing themselves deeper inside you. Every once in a while one of these pieces splits into two. They multiply exponentially as they continue to burrow into your flesh. And all the while you are trapped in a stifling coffin – perpetually suffocating.’

‘The blessings of the long lives of the Volkovs transformed into a curse. For a hundred and eleven years Normann experienced levels of pain and misery even I cannot fathom. A century is a very long time to spend trapped in merciless agony. It was enough to eradicate every last shred of his humanity and forge him into a new person – who he is today.’

‘His siblings eventually felt guilty enough to let him go, even acting in defiance of their father. But by then it was far too late for him.’

A scene materialized Esther and Roman trying to control an enraged Normann as he fought against them. I spotted a newly dug up grave beside them. It was much deeper than I imagined any grave should need to be.

‘They managed to calm and guide him back to a semblance of sanity. Given a couple of years they even got their father to come around and give Normann another chance. After a long while Normann chose to forgive each of them – his father and his siblings – after a decade, mind you, of him refusing to speak to any of them at all.’

‘He claimed he didn’t want to spend eternity hating them. They each agreed to work out their differences. It took them a bit of work but they reunited their family and the whole town prospered.’

She offered me a brief glimpse of the group of them sitting together at a long table piled with food, laughing. In addition to the recognizable faces I spotted a woman holding a child no older than four, a little girl with striking, red hair who reminded me of Nailah.

Emily gave me a sinister smile. ‘You must understand, Normann never really stopped being angry. He never forgave his family, he only pretended to. There was no forgiving them for what they put him through.’

The next scene Emily showed me was of a tall, shadowy figure watching Normann kneel at a graveside from the gloom of the trees. I suspected it was the same graveside I was stuck underneath at the moment.

‘Normann wasn’t the only individual seeking retribution. As he was released back into the world by his family, Issaut had just finished uncovering the truth of what really happened to Cambion, and was beginning to put together an insane plan.

Issaut approached Normann just as he was about to end his own life a couple months after he was released by Esther and Roman. Issaut felt a kind of empathy for Normann since they’d both been betrayed by family. In Normann he saw a part of himself. He also saw an opportunity for a useful ally.

He summoned an apparition of Cambion for Normann. Cambion offered Normann the same deal he’d already offered Issaut; vengeance against his family and unparalleled power the likes of which he’d never gifted anyone before – once he’d freed him from his prison in purgatory.’

‘Normann could get revenge on all his family. Issaut would finally be given the power to end his millenia old feud with his brother. Me. And then to end his own miserable, tormented existence if he desired it.’

She turned to share with me an unimpressed look. Then she pointed at something distant through the shifting mist.

It was Normann again. He looked older now and he possessed the same air of sinister malice he’d carried when I first saw him.

‘It’s been close to another hundred years since then. Normann and my brother have nearly completed their plan. Over the past couple decades he has located ashes of the summoners who helped bind Cambion centuries ago. He has discovered a witch powerful enough to conduct a spell of unbinding. And he has retrieved an artifact: a vial of blood belonging to the god itself with the help of some people close to you.’

Without warning, I caught a glimpse of my father through the mist. He was sweating in a mining uniform as he peered through a cramped looking cave passageway.

‘He still needs to find an appropriately powerful sacrifice to tear apart the bonds binding Cambion. That is the only piece of the puzzle left for him.’

‘The night of Samhain is approaching. It’s all coming together. Time is running out.’

Through the mist I watched Emily as she examined a pair of standing stones, trailing her hand along the surface of one, mouthing something I couldn’t hear. The expression on her face was both fascinated and disturbed.

‘Did you know that Emily helped him uncover the last piece of information he requires to complete the ritual? She came across a piece of scripture Normann had been searching for during her investigation, but was oblivious to the magnitude of her discovery.

When Normann found out she had acquired this information during his interrogation of her, she was as good as dead. He needed what she had, and he couldn’t risk leaving Emily alive once he’d taken it from her. She had stumbled across a crucial piece of his plan whilst searching for answers for the death of your father.

‘This whole fight for the throne of the Patriarch?’ Emily threw up her hands. ‘Irrelevant. A convenient transgression which will distract the Volkovs whilst Normann and Issaut complete their scheme.’

‘None of the other Volkovs have the slightest clue what he has planned for all of them. But he has no idea I’ve been watching the whole time.’

Emily gave a self satisfied smirk.

‘And that leads us to now.’ She waved a hand and the mist dissipated. I was back in the cell with Emily standing over me, uncomfortably close.

Chapter 16

‘So you want me to stop Normann?’ I asked.

‘You’ll find out what I want when you need to know it. What I require right now is your allegiance,’ she said.

‘My allegiance,’ I repeated. ‘If I agree to… Work for you, will I lose my soul? Like the Volkovs did?’

‘I don’t have the power to do anything with your soul,’ Emily told me. ‘Though there are plenty of other ways I can make you suffer if you fail me.’

Emily poked me in the chest with one finger. It was only a light touch, but the sensation sent an unpleasant shock running through me. ‘You must do exactly as I say. No matter how much it conflicts with your conscience.’

I looked away from her, toward where the apparition of Emily had been standing moments ago.

‘And if I refuse?’

Emily shrugged. ‘I could leave you here for Normann to use for tonight’s ritual. Or I might try persuading you some… Other way? I’m not sure yet.’

She paused to allow her words to sink in.

‘But,’ she interjected. ‘There is one final thing I have to show you. I want to make sure you make the right decision.’

The mist returned to surround us as Emily grabbed one of my hands.

‘I’m going to share with you Desdemona’s fate if you refuse me,’ Emily explained. ‘It is one of many I’ve foreseen for her.’

The girl she showed me appeared standing over three bodies; those of her mother, Eldid, and Dionysia. Each of them lay prone before her on a marble floor, propped up against a wooden railing.

She stared through me without seeing. Her hands were filthy with blood and bits of bodily matter. She was standing over the balcony overlooking the ballroom, the same place where the patriarch made his speech at the masquerade.

I spotted a couple of other bodies on the ballroom floor, though I didn’t get a good enough look to identify them.

The vision was brief, long enough for me to register the haunted look in her eyes and the despair written across her face.

Emily retracted her hand. ‘Every future I’ve seen for her shares one thing in common. Her becoming the thing you fear she will become. A monster. But the future can still change.’

‘I’ll give you the key to save her from her fate. Help me and I promise to free her for you. How does that sound?’

I said, ‘When you came to her, Emily didn’t want to make a deal with you. She said she knew what kind of person you were. Then she did what you asked of her and now she’s dead.’

‘I didn’t send Emily after the Volkovs,’ Emily’s body corrected dispassionately. ‘She got herself caught. She contacted a witch in the hope of getting out of her deal with me. After I asked her to locate someone for me so I could… Interrogate them. Too much for her conscience, I guess. It was a shame.’

‘Unbeknownst to her, she and just about every other practicing witch in Avalon are loyal to Normann. The witch went straight to Normann and told him all about Emily. She lured Emily into a trap for Normann – you can figure out the rest. Emily betrayed me. That’s what got her killed.’

‘Why should I believe you?’

‘You’re going to have to take a chance,’ Emily said indifferently. ‘Consider your options, Tristrian. Time is running out. You won’t make it through tonight if you don’t accept my help.’

As she awaited a response, Emily began to pace the room again restlessly.

‘Let’s make this easy, alright? I already know what your answer will be. I can see it written on your face. You believe me about Desdemona. Which is all that really matters.’

‘So don’t waste your time. The sooner we make a pact, the sooner you can get out of this awful place.’ She waved a hand around her.

An apprehensive pause followed.

I lifted my head slowly. ‘I have one question,’ I announced.

Emily inclined her head. A thin trail of blood meandered slowly down her forehead, following the path of her matted hair.

‘Why do you need me? I can’t see how I’d be of any use to you. I’m not smart like Emily or gifted like the Volkovs are.’

Emily smiled slowly.

‘You have potential.’ She leaned forward until I could smell the sweet scent of her rotting flesh.

‘You and I are not so different. I know it may be hard to hear, but we really aren’t. You know how to get what you want out of anybody.. You can fool people into loving you when they should hate you. You can make people believe any lie you want them to.’

‘I’ve seen what you could be capable of. You and I? We will do great things together.’

She let out a breath, and I cringed back in disgust as the stench of death overpowered me.

‘I am very much looking forward to working with you, Tristrian.’

Emily held out her hand abruptly as I opened my mouth. ‘No more questions.’ She opened and closed her fingers, watching me expectantly.

‘Fine, I guess,’ I said, suppressing frustration. ‘We have an agreement.’

I raised my arm, then stopped myself before taking her bloodstained hand in my own.

‘Wait,’ I said. Her hand, which had been reaching out to me, curled back slightly. Now Emily was looking irritated.

‘There’s one other thing I have to ask.’

‘Oh really?’

‘It’s about Emily. Not you. The real her. It’s going to have to be part of our deal.’

Emily agreed to the request willingly enough.

‘No one can know what really happened to her. Her death will be viewed as an unfortunate accident. Nothing more,’ she warned. Then she held her hand out again.

I glanced down at it. ‘I mean, do I have to?’ I motioned at her. ‘You’re wearing the skin of my dead sister. I don’t really -’

Emily didn’t respond. Seeing the irritated look returning to her eyes, I took her hand begrudgingly.

Her hand was warm, sweaty, and wet with blood. I snatched my own away after a couple seconds, wiping it hard on my pants.

Emily stepped back with a satisfied smile. She turned toward the other side of the cell, glancing up the steep stairs and the trap door which led out of the cellar.

‘You must leave immediately,’ she instructed. ‘And you need to hurry. You won’t have much time before the Volkovs notice you’re gone. Once they find out, they will want to deal with you swiftly.’

She continued, ‘You will find Rashida; the woman Nailah instructed you to take Emily to. Tell her you are Nailah’s friend and the Volkovs are after you. I need you to get her to trust you. After a couple weeks, I’ll come find you, and we’ll discuss what’s next.’

‘How am I supposed to tell her what happened to her daughter?’

‘Nailah isn’t dead, Tristrian. Not yet. You’ll tell her there’s still hope for her child.’

‘Okay.’ I swallowed. ‘And then how am I supposed to get this woman to trust me?’

‘Help Rashida save her daughter, and she’ll trust you. She might even come to like you.’

I rubbed my head. ‘Say I somehow manage that. Then what?’ I asked.

Emily leaned toward me. ‘Do you remember Skye?’

I froze.

‘She’s that woman you catfished for fun a couple years ago. I saw how you fed her a web of lies. You made up an entire identity to seduce her. She would have done anything for you. Whatever you wanted.’

‘What I did there was -’

‘Incredible. You got her to throw her entire life away for a fantasy. A lie.’

‘I didn’t know she would actually go through with what she did!’ I protested.

‘She did though, didn’t she? And that’s my point,’ Emily put in. ‘I need you to be that person again. So you can get Rashida to do what you – what I – want.’

She picked herself up from the wall and then prompted, ‘anything else?’

I considered her question. ‘I don’t know if I can do what you’re asking of me,’ I said.

‘If you fail me then you fail Desdemona, and you saw what happened to her.’ Emily said. There was ice in her voice. ‘Do you understand?’

I swallowed. ‘Fine.’ I tried to say it with a confidence I didn’t really feel.

‘Okay, I’m ready. I guess,’ I said. I stood unsteadily, swaying slightly on my feet. ‘Get me out of this place.’

Emily’s mouth turned up in a small smile. The fingers of her left hand twitched once.

Then she collapsed. All the life simply went out of her. Emily fell to the floor, her body sagging and the breath expelling her lungs in a gasp. Her eyes rolled back into her head as she returned to a lifeless state.

As I was staring at her numbly, I heard the door to my cell slowly creak open.

A month laterI stood in the frigid air, though I hardly felt the cold. Most of the others had gone inside, but I remained standing at the graveside. I couldn’t bring myself to leave. Not yet.

‘There are a thousand things I wish I could say to her,’ I admitted.

Desdemona put a hand on my shoulder, her touch light as a feather.

‘I understand.’

I glanced at her.

‘I meant to say I understand what it feels like to have things left unsaid after someone’s passed away,’ she amended.

She came over to me. I allowed her to put an arm around my shoulder.

‘You’re freezing,’ she murmured. ‘You should really get inside.’

‘Just a little longer,’ I promised.

Desdemona didn’t protest. Instead, she pulled me closer.

She was one of the only ones who had any idea of what really happened to Emily. The story everyone else knew was one they’d all heard before in Avalon. Emily disappeared without a word or explanation. Her remains were discovered by a hiker a couple days after she went missing, deep in the forest.

What I told Desdemona of the night was what I said to Rashida. Nailah and I went off into the forest to rescue Emily. Then everything went wrong, with the Volkovs capturing Nailah. I managed to escape while she distracted them. I’d failed to do anything to help Emily.

Emily’s body was planted by the Volkovs in the forest. That’s what Desdemona and Nailah believed. Everyone else suspected a mysterious, unnamed killer. Of course it wouldn’t be tied back to any of the Volkovs.

‘What aren’t you telling me?’ Desdemona asked, once I’d found the right words to explain what happened.

I stayed silent.

‘Come on,’ she pressed. ‘You know you can tell me anything.’ She paused. ‘Don’t you?’

For a few seconds I tried to imagine how she’d react if she knew the truth. I didn’t even know how I’d begin to explain myself to her.

Thankfully, she agreed to let it go for the moment.

Desdemona turned me around and gave me a smile as she took both of my hands in hers.

‘Once this is all over, I’m going hold you to your promise.’

‘Which promise?’ I asked her, getting a little nervous.

‘You told me we would move away from here. You and I are going to spend the rest of our lives together somewhere. Once this is all over.’

I tried to conjure up some hope at the thought. I couldn’t quite manage it.

I mustered up a smile for her anyway, averting my eyes from the graveside.

‘I’m ready to go inside now.’

Desdemona slid her arm into mine and we moved slowly back toward the small church.

Words can’t describe how much I miss Emily to this day. I do my best to keep the memory of her alive in any way I can.

I can’t help but imagine how differently things could have played out if she made it out alive that night. She would have made different choices, better ones. Maybe if Emily were still here, there could have been a happy ending to this story.