The Count of Castle Rock

Chapter XXI- Thorns and Ballrooms

Once the Count of Castle Rock, a mass of barbed vines, thorns, and lilies drags itself along the battered ballroom floor. Cruel twenty-foot vines dig furrows into the once pristine marble tiles and cut deep gashes into the ancient pillars holding up the old ceiling. The abomination slowly tears away at the foundation with the aimless destructiveness of the siege giants of old. Its aromatic lilies fill the space with a beautiful scent at odds with the ugliness of the whole ordeal.

Methuen moans from the center of the lurching mass then the thing lumbers another fifteen feet and lashes out.

Hans watches from the balcony, unmoving since he sent Byrghir and Cape for help. They'd sent Knife who quickly found Captain Carlos and Olivia. While the familiars collected their allies, Hans used his mind's eye to pour over every page and scrap of information he'd ever read. Part of him is proud of the surprising wealth of knowledge he's managed to accumulate in the last six months. The rest of him laments his inability to come up with a solution.

He watches Methuen with a mix of pity and disdain. Count Methuen is his lord and teacher, but he is also a dark man with horrible secrets. Hans can't ignore what he stumbled upon or the implications it gave birth to.

Tentative footsteps approach.

"What is that thing, Hans?" Leesa asks, leaning against the balcony railing beside him.

He looks up at the sound of her voice, smiling despite the circumstances. She's more beautiful than he remembers. Words well up in him; months of unsaid affirmations, tender sweet nothings, and embarrassing confessions. They hang at the tip of his tongue, his heart not bold enough to speak up. Then the Methuen thing moans and the clatter of the scraping thorns brings him back to reality and the present.

"I'm not sure," he says, turning his attention back to the abomination. "I watched it happen and I still have no idea. Whatever magic has caused this is far beyond my meager training..."

"So that is definitely Methuen?"

Hans flinches at the casual way she says The Count's name, but nods his head.

"By the gods..."

"Thueny is trapped in a forest of green," Olivia says, coming up on Hans's opposite side. In her hand is one of her dolls, flesh colored with a head painted white. She'd reverted to her childlike state the moment she saw what had happened to Methuen. "My magic can't show him the way home." She grabs the sleeve of Hans's robes like a child clinging to the nearest adult. "Come back, Master. Olivia doesn't want to be alone."

For the first time since their twisted meeting, Hans isn't disturbed by her behavior. For once, he thinks he understands her. The expression on Leesa's face is equal parts surprise and revulsion. She hasn't had six months to grow used to the strange half-elf.

"Hans..." she begins, clearly at a loss for words.

"It's okay. Now isn't the time to explain."

"Fine. One thing at a time. What do we do about this?"

"Young lady, there is nothing you can do at the moment," Captain Carlos says as he joins them all on the balcony. He wipes the blood from his hands with a stained rag. "I'm not sure why you were summoned, but it would be best if you ran along and forgot what you've seen." He turns to Hans as if he fully expects Leesa to disappear. "I've bandaged the leg of The Count's guest and staunched the bleeding to the best of my ability, but she must be seen by a physicker."

"Leesa's here because I told the familiars to find help. They brought her, which means they think she can assist."

The captain looks back at Knife, Cape, and Byrghir, waiting in the archway. The three shrink away from his stern gaze.